by Tripp Ellis
He pressed another button. The outer hatch disengaged and slid open. They were roughly 25 yards from the outer hull of the Revenant. The ship looked ominous against the luminescent green nebula and the electrical storm flashing around it.
Zoey gazed at the ship in awe. It wasn’t often that she got to see the outside of an Avenger class star destroyer while it was in space. Even in dry dock, these ships looked powerful and majestic. But floating free, in their native habitat, they were a sight to behold. And no one had seen this particular ship in 25 years. It was like discovering the Titanic at the bottom of the ocean.
The stories of the Revenant were often told on long deployments in deep space. Usually to frighten junior officers, or enlisted fresh out of boot camp. Everyone had a different version of the fateful events, and each story had morphed so far from the original that nobody knew what the truth was anymore. The only thing that was for certain was that the ship went missing, and the crew along with it.
Zoey’s heartbeat pulsed. She couldn’t help but feel the thrill of discovery. She was going to be one of the first to set foot aboard.
Mitch fired a magnetic harpoon that attached to the Revenant’s hall. He secured the line to the bulkhead in the airlock. He wound it taught and tugged on it to test its strength. “These suits don’t have built in propulsion, so we’re on our own.”
Mitch grabbed the line and pulled himself toward the Revenant. He spoke into his comm line. “We are leaving the Zephyr.”
“Roger that,” Declan said.
Zoey followed behind Mitch. It was an eerie feeling, floating through space in the middle of a nebula. It was like crossing a tight rope between two skyscrapers—except there was no up or down. If you were afraid of heights, this definitely wasn’t the place for you. If you lost your grip, or if the safety harness broke, it would be a long cold death as you drifted off into space.
Within a few moments they had reached the hull of the Revenant. Mitch activated the magnetic soles on his boots. He placed his feet against the hull, and they snapped into place with a firm attachment.
Zoey followed suit.
Mitch took a few steps on the hull and looked back at the Zephyr. He had a grin on his face as he rotated around, taking in the view from all angles. “This is cool.”
Zoey cautiously let go of the tethered line they had crossed on. Her boots clanked against the hull as she marched to the manual control for the airlock hatch. She knelt down and opened a fairing that covered the control panel. She pressed the button, and the display came to life. The ship still had power.
She had to enter a four digit passcode in order to access airlock functions. It was a generic code used by every UPDF ship. At least, she hoped it was still the same code. The codes were programmable and could be unique to each Navy ship. But the UPDF had mandated that all hatch access codes should be the same to facilitate emergency rescue operations.
She entered 0000 into the keypad. A moment later, the display flashed: access granted. The Navy figured they would make the code so simple, no one could forget it. It was like the old nuclear football code.
Before she could open the outer hatch, the inner hatch had to be sealed. She keyed in the commands, and a moment later, the external hatch released and slid open. A rush of air blew out of the airlock.
Mitch and Zoey climbed into the airlock and sealed the hatch behind them. Zoey pushed the button on the bulkhead and pressurized the compartment. An overhead light flashed green, and a klaxon sounded.
Zoey’s fist mashed another button, and the inner hatch slid open.
The corridor in front of her was pitch black.
She activated her helmet lights. Two brilliant beams pierced the darkness. Dust and debris floated in the air. A pencil, a piece of paper, a coffee mug tumbling end over end. Her magnetic boots were keeping her affixed to the deck, but the ship’s gravity generators weren’t working.
There was clearly some available power. But the main system was off-line. Even the emergency lighting wasn’t functioning. It was possible that after all this time the ship went into some kind of hibernation mode to preserve energy.
“I hope you’re not afraid of the dark,” Zoey said.
Mitch gulped with fear. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
As Zoey stepped into the passageway, she felt a chill run down her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck stood tall. Goosebumps rose on her flesh, like skyscrapers. She didn’t know if it was just her imagination or not, but there was something chilling about this place. It felt like evil.
15
WALKER
The Officer of the Deck sneered at their appearance. One side of his lip curled up, and his big amphibian eyes grew even wider. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this tattered group of Saarkturains—or what appeared to be Saarkturains.
Malik, Saaja, and Walker stood at attention. With his battle armor and face shield, Walker blended in. Though they all stood out. Perhaps the fact that they were covered in dirt and mud drew some of the attention away from Walker.
“Permission to come aboard?” Malik said.
The OOD hesitated. When he spoke, he did so in Saarkturese. “Permission granted.” He looked them up and down again. “Perhaps you would like to freshen up before you meet with Emperor Tyvelon?”
“We had a little… engine trouble on the way over,” Malik said.
The OOD glanced at the damaged thruster. “Yes, so it seems.”
“We were ambushed by raiders. We had to make an unexpected stop on a rather unfriendly planet.”
“I see.” His big round eyes were suspicious. “Well, if we can be of any assistance in repairing your ship, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you.”
The OOD’s eyes found Bailey sitting at the top of the ramp in the Phantom. “And that… thing? What function does it serve?”
“It’s highly trained in tactical explosive detection, gas detection, search and rescue.”
“I can assure you, there are no hidden explosives, or poison gas aboard the Korvectus. But the ship is large. I can’t promise you won’t get lost.” His tone was condescending. “I guess I will allow the beast on board.”
“He’s very well behaved,” Malik said. “Years of extensive training.” The only training Bailey had was fighting nasty arthropods on Thantos 6.
Walker motioned for Bailey. He bolted down the ramp and sat alongside Walker.
The OOD stared at Walker, but he couldn’t see through his visor. It perturbed him a little.
Bailey gave a subtle growl as the OOD stepped close. Walker petted Bailey’s head to settle him down.
The OOD turned up his nose. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your temporary quarters.”
As they followed him off the flight deck, Walker saw a slew of prisoners offloaded from a transport ship. They were humans. Frightened and tattered. Wide eyes and hopeless faces. But they were healthy, for the most part. There weren’t any wounded—the Decluvians had either killed the wounded, or left them to die on Delta Vega.
Walker clenched his jaw. He knew that these people were going to be slaves, or worse. But now was not the time to do anything about it.
The OOD led Walker and the others through a network of passageways to a small berthing compartment with four bunks. But they weren’t ordinary bunks. There were misting stations above each bunk, in case you needed to rehydrate your amphibian skin during the night.
“There are bathing facilities down the hall. There is also a pool if you’d like to take a dip. The 2nd deck mess hall is just forward from here. There are a variety of insects, worms, and slugs from across the galaxy, if you get hungry. Just don’t spoil your appetite. I’ll send someone to fetch you for the ceremony.”
“Thank you,” said Malik.
“If that’s all, I’ll be returning to my post?”
Malik nodded, and the OOD marched away.
Bailey leapt into one of the bunks and settled in for a nap.
The ship was ho
t and humid. It felt like a swamp. And that was just how the Decluvian’s liked it.
Walker peeled off his helmet and took a deep breath. “We’ve got to do something about those prisoners.”
“Whoa. Hang on,” Malik said. “Let’s not get carried away.”
“If those were Saarkturians, how would you feel?”
Malik frowned. “Let’s just stick to the plan.”
“What plan is that?”
“We’ll attend the ceremony,” Malik said. “You stay here with Bailey. We’ll say you weren’t feeling well. We’ll have dinner, then we’ll say thank you, and be on our way.”
“I say we make a new plan. This fleet is on a mission to exterminate mankind. This may be our only chance to do something. We need to kill the Emperor, free the hostages, and destroy the ship.”
“If my people have formed an alliance with the Decluvians, then I must honor that alliance.”
“We’re talking about the annihilation of my people.” The veins in Walker’s neck were popping out.”
Saaja intervened. “Let’s all take a deep breath and calm down. The agreement we made was to help each other get off the planet and get each other to safety. None of us are exactly safe just yet.”
Malik gave her a sideways glance.
“You don’t really trust the Decluvians, do you?” she said. “They’ve never held to an agreement before.”
“I’m sure Prince Valinok had his reasons.”
“He’s a boy,” Saaja said. “He’s not qualified to make these decisions. He’s too young to remember our history. If he’s been taught anything of our history at all.”
“This conversation is veering into a treasonous direction.” Malik grew visibly uncomfortable.
“I am merely stating fact.” Saaja’s eyes burned into him.
Malik was quiet.
“He couldn’t have orchestrated an arrangement like this on his own. Someone is pulling the strings. I wonder what he had to agree to in order to get the Decluvians to wage war?”
“It makes no difference,” Malik said. “We are warriors, not politicians. We shouldn’t concern ourselves with such things.”
“Can you not think for yourself?” Saaja said.
Malik clenched his jaw. His pale face was beginning to flush red. “The bottom line is that the humans are occupying a sacred land.” His gaze met Walker’s. “No offense.”
“Because a 6000 year old scripture dictates this sector is off limits, that makes it okay to exterminate a sentient species?”
“It wasn’t like there was a no trespassing sign on New Earth when we settled it,” Walker said.
Malik’s eyes snapped back to Saaja. “Are you suggesting we should ignore scripture?”
“I’m not suggesting what you should or shouldn’t believe,” Saaja said. “I’m just saying, I’m not comfortable with annihilating a species because a book written 6000 years ago says to do so.”
“I’m not asking either one of you to betray your allegiance,” Walker said. “But I took an oath that I would support and defend the Constitution of the United Planetary Federation against all enemies foreign and domestic. If I have the ability to make a difference in the outcome of this war, I’m sworn to take it.”
16
SAARKTURIA
Kyva sat on the edge of her bed sobbing. The tears leaked down her orange and blue skin. She was the daughter of Emperor Tyvelon. She was the queen-in-waiting of Saarkturia. And she could think of nothing worse. Both of those facts made her amphibian skin crawl.
She had a sprawling chamber in the palace that had a beautiful view of the capitol city. But it was nothing more than a gilded prison.
There was a knock at the door, but she didn’t seem inclined to respond. A few moments later, Rylon entered. He carried with him a magnificent evening gown and set it on the bed. “I hope the afternoon finds you well, My Lady.”
“It does not,” Kyva said. Her words were like daggers, and she could see right through Rylon’s pretenses.
Rylon was a wormy sort of Saarkturian. Black, baggy eyes, sharp angular features, and an unrivaled lust for power. He had been advisor to Queen L’Naar, and was now advisor to Prince Valinok. He had orchestrated the alliance with the Decluvians. And for that, Kyva wanted to kill him.
“The ascension ceremony is tonight. Prince Valinok will be crowned King. And, soon you will be his bride. It is a magnificent occasion. I have had the finest gown handmade for you.”
“It’s ugly.” She didn’t even look at it. She kept her head down, sulking.
Rylon’s attempt at cordial behavior vanished. His fake smile turned to a scowl. “You will put the dress on, attend the ceremony, and at least pretend to have a good time.”
“I don’t have to do anything you say. My father is the Emperor of Decluvia.”
“And that is precisely why you must do exactly as I say. It is his wish that you become Queen of Saarkturia one day.”
“I don’t care what he wishes. My life is not for him to determine.”
“I beg to differ, my dear. Your father has given me full authority to discipline you however I see fit. You have the run of this palace, you are treated like a queen, your every need is met… yet, I can just as easily have you locked up and confined until your rebellious spirit is broken. Perhaps then you would be more compliant?”
Her eyes burned into him. She was seething with the kind of rage only a teenage princess could muster.
“My first order as Queen will be to have your head.”
“Well, that should give you some incentive now, shouldn’t it?” Rylon smiled. “Put on the dress.” He strutted out of the room.
Kyva grabbed the dress and tossed it on the floor.
She sat in a huff for a moment, then picked up her PDU and called her father. A moment later, the Emperor appeared on the screen.
“I hate it here, and I hate you.”
“At least you are consistent in your emotions,” Tyvelon said.
“Ugh,” she grumbled. “You can’t make me marry him. He’s repulsive. He’s got pale skin and black eyes. He’s got five fingers. Disgusting.”
Tyvelon rolled his eyes, enduring her rant. “Are you done?”
“No, I’m not done. I’m just getting started.”
“That’s great. I’d love to hear all about it, but I’ve got worlds to conquer.”
“You never listen to me.”
“That’s exactly what your mother used to say.”
She growled at him. “I hate you.”
“One day, when you are ruler of all you survey, you will thank me.”
“Send a transport to take me back to Decluvia, or I swear, I’ll make you regret it.”
Tyvelon was partially amused at her spunk.
“I’ll ruin this whole alliance. I’ll kill the prince. I’ll be executed for treason. Then you won’t have a daughter to boss around.”
“If you’re going to kill him, at least wait until after you’re Queen. By then, hopefully you will be smart enough not to get caught.” Tyvelon ended the transmission.
She huffed and threw the PDU on the bed. She grumbled for the next few minutes, then finally looked at the dress. Kyva picked it up and held it out, gazing at its splendor. She had to admit, it was quite tasteful.
17
ZOEY
Zoey’s body was covered in a slick greasy sweat. Not so much from heat, but from anxiety—though the suit was a little stuffy. The temperature regulator was malfunctioning and was overheating the suit.
In contrast, the halls of the Revenant were well below zero. A thin film of frost coated the bulkheads.
Zoey’s heavy breath filled her helmet. Her peripheral vision was obscured by the narrow visor of the old design. It didn’t have the panoramic view of the newer models, and it was starting to fog up.
“We are on board,” Mitch said, transmitting back to the Zephyr.
Declan’s voice crackled back over the comm system. “What condition is the ship
in?”
“There’s nothing here,” Mitch said. “This place is abandoned.”
Their boots clanked against the deck as they crept down the passageway. The narrow beams of light from their helmets slashed the darkness.
“We need to power the system up. Get the artificial gravity back on. Get the atmosphere replenished,” Zoey said.
“How do we do that?”
“We can run a diagnostic from the CIC.”
“Lead the way.”
It was uncanny how similar the ship was to the Scorpion, down to the smallest detail. Zoey moved forward toward the CIC. It was two decks up from where they were.
As the two plodded through the hallway, Zoey’s flashlight beam swiped across the bulkhead. Something she saw in the brief illumination caught her attention. She stopped to examine it.
The beam illuminated a crimson smear that streaked along the bulkhead for several feet.
“What is it?” Mitch asked, wondering why she was stopping.
“It looks like… blood.” She reached her gloved hand out to touch it. As she ran her fingertips across it, the blood seemed to smear. It appeared fresh—which was impossible.
Zoey turned the palm of her glove to face her, expecting to see bloodstains on her fingertips. But nothing was there.
Her face twisted up, perplexed. “Did you see that?”
“See what?”
Zoey glanced back to the bulkhead. The crimson smear looked like a swath of rust. It didn’t resemble blood at all.
“Nothing, I guess.” Zoey shook it off. Her visor was fogged and milky. Maybe she had misinterpreted what she saw. She stared at the rusty bulkhead for a moment.
The ship let out a low groan that lasted for a few seconds. The mammoth frame was likely creaking under some gravitational force.
Mitch glanced around, concerned. It was an unnerving sound.
“Come on. Let’s keep moving,” Zoey said.
They snaked their way through the maze of corridors. Zoey climbed the ladder to the next deck. As she reached the landing and pulled herself up, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye—a shadowy figure running through the corridor.
