by Boris Mosso
While Renar considered any way out from the impasse in which they were in, Alvian opened a seal in the exterior screen very calmly, at the same time a holographic appeared on the wall. He then touched a red color area in the control hologram’s inside and three thick and transparent holding energy walls fell quickly on the other side and behind the spy, with the agent also remaining inside. A fourth layer appeared above, leaving the undercover and the agent isolated from the field inside a five meters sideways cube, stuck to the exterior screen. Renar anguishly understood that the matter was out of his hands.
—Alvian, what are you doing?
Alvian didn’t answer from the inside of the holding energy cube. Renar and Lagras, who had been left outside, hurried to touch the transparent and impassable energy frozen wall.
When the spy spoke again, there was not much assurance in his voice. Alvian, on his part, didn’t stop aiming at him with the rotatory.
—What is this? Do you think these energetic walls have the power encased in this warhead?
You don’t imagine the concentrated power in this small device. Think about it well before sacrificing your lives, having other choices. Espacians love their structure and predictable existence way too much. Based permanently with vague and unreal hopes. Let’s continue with de deal… that way you will all live for a while at least, in view that your fleet will be with ours in a little while longer.
Before Alvian tersely answered the spy, he glanced at Renar for a second with a calm expression, although filled with sadness.
—Survival is an overestimated asset… damn parasite. After all, your life and mine are worthless in the engineered universe.
The undercover frowned not understanding what was happening. Thereupon, Alvian spoke directly to Renar. He felt the field agent’s look burning his eyes.
—Renar… don’t forget my son.
Then, the agent touched another area in the wall’s holographic and a huge gate opened immediately in the spaceship’s screen that Renar had never noticed before.
Sucked out into outer space, the two bodies shot out at an astonishing speed; three seconds afterwards, the gate and the energy walls which surrounded it sealed it hermetically, they dissolved. Everything looked as before, except that the spy and agent Alvian now floated dead in space.
Lagras plopped his arms down his sides, sliding down on the floor. He remained there leaning against the screen.
Renar didn’t move when the holding energy walls disappeared, nor paid attention to Lagras contacting his superiors. He couldn’t move a muscle either minutes after seeing a group of Espacian Intelligence military agents, coming down in levitators and bristling with weapons.
When a small light impulse came from the outside announcing the quantum leap returning to the Solarian System, he didn’t even notice it. He just moved and raised his head when a Espacian Intelligence High Officer, named Bax the Faran, approached him and touched him on his shoulder, speaking to him with calm authority:
—Renar, you must withdraw, they’re waiting for you in the Systemic Council’s Flantart. One of your agents is already in the expedition’s main Vector, and it happens that everyone should be there, including you.
—Very well, Sir.
—Renar, Director Umbaga wants to see you there before leaving. Do you understand?
—Very well… Did you recover Alvian’s body?
—We didn’t have time… It was urgent to get back to formation. It’s a decision from the fleet’s command.
Renar left without bidding farewell towards the levitator, Lagras, crestfallen and with a haggard look waited for him there; they were both visibly dismayed, they climbed into the device which instantly left levitating towards the Tubular’s auxiliary hangars.
—Sir, before the battle, Alvian lived in Lenodon with his small son. He loved him more than anything in the world. It was them two only.
—I knew it…
—Then, why did he say that? That his life was worthless?
—That wasn’t what he said, but I can’t understand it anyhow.
8 - Waiting Anxiously
Tronius witnessed fearfully, the tragic and overwhelming outcome from the desperate chase. He was afraid that another similar event could lead to fatal consequences, since it was evident how close the fleet was to witness a Top-Class Tubular spaceships’ explosion, with more than forty thousand Espacians on board and during battle formation.
—Send a Nimide to the crime scene… immediately.
—Now, Admiral?
—Right now. Tell them not to come back until they find that agent’s body which jumped into space. They should deliver it in the Council’s spaceship.
—Understood. The Tubular spaceship has already returned to its formation position.
—Very well, keep the information of what happened constrained.
Tribar sensed that through the Admiral’s distressed mind, the memory from the recent attack on him flourished, where the special escort’s leader lost his life. The young and efficient Officer Barzi.
—The agents have been the first casualties for us in this battle and, even so, they haven’t been able to get this curse off us.
—Besides the rebel volunteers who joined the Coalition Forces in Scardias’ group of stars…
—Without counting them, Tribar.
Tronius looked away, after finding out that several High Officers were eavesdropping into the second fleet’s Commander’s conversation.
It was a fact known by everyone that the oldest of Admiral’s Tribar’s son called Blatias, had joined that countless group of rebel Officers, who aggravated by the Espacian fleet’s delay to enter into combat, yielded on their own to the reduced Scardian’s fleet forces.
The desperate goal was to defend the last populated world in Scardia’s Constellation: Planet Utar. They then submitted to the battle’s fifth and last group of the Solarian System’s mentioned past bitter enemies, making Tribar very ashamed, and incidentally, maybe separating them forever.
That world was attacked one week after the arrival of the renegade Espacians; ever since then, nothing was known of the survivors’ fate from the magnificent fifth Scardian fleet nor from Blatias, who was a respected and experienced forty-year-old Earthly Forces Commander. At the time of deserting, he took one hundred and fifty toughest and hardened soldiers with him, to command seven thousand RMODs in eleven Vectors and twenty-three Black Star spacecrafts with their entire crew. They jumped on board those spaceships to unknown coordinates, taking with them four thousand small robotic spacecrafts with its appropriate rebel pilots leading them.
But the worst came next, since a week after Blatias’ and his small rebel unit’s escape, a battle group also disappeared completely from their base in the system’s outer planet, without leaving any traces at all. This time, it was about millions of renegade crew members.
In view of those extremely alarming facts, the admiralty and the Systemic Council, announced drastic measures for the Officers involved beginning with the higher rank amongst the rebels, the twenty fifth battle group leader, the General Commander, Orben Drak; an Officer with a long history in the fleet and one of the few personal friends known of Admiral Tronius.
Over the so-called deserters an urgent arrest warrant was pending, besides awaiting a tough martial court and the maximum penalties which an Espacian could ever suffer in the remote case of existing survivors.
After the mess suffered by the fifth Scardian fleet, they hardly knew that the rebels fought in space and also on the surface protecting the last Scardians’ inhabited planet at five thousand five hundred light years from the Solarian System. The Systemic Council qualified it as major shame and Admiral Tribar saved his title just by Tronius’ direct intervention.
The matter was silenced promptly, covering aggressively and blatantly then the severe facts trying to prevent the generalization of similar situations. This, before the increasing manifested impatience from the fleet’s High Officer, in view of the
constant denial from the Astral’s Unified Fleet’s High Commands to allow the intervention of the Espacian War fleet in defending many Solar Systems wiped out mercifully, week after week.
Tribar felt deeply and shamefully disappointment, mixed with an overwhelming sadness at the same time before his loving oldest son’s certain death. The Admiral hoped to clear his family’s name silently, in the coming huge battle, even if his life depended on it.
Only the great love for his daughter Vika, kept him standing. And naturally, Tronius’ great friendship and the assurance to nobly serve him until the end of the huge ongoing war. It appalled him to disappoint the pro-man who he had followed through half galaxy for decades.
Tribar, after a few uncomfortable moments of silence spoke again with discreet difficulty, asking gently about the Council’s secret mission.
—Any news about the secret expedition, Admiral?
—It will take off in a few hours. Professor Trivian will lead the scientist’s group.
—What about the Espacian Foreign Intelligence agents?
—They’ve got his commands and are already in the Council’s Flantart. As I recall, the Intelligence Officer in charge of the security, is a young agent called Renar, one of Trivian’s protégé.
—Then things will turn out as the professor wants after all.
—Yes, I know.
—I can’t discuss anything else.
Tribar perceived the Admiral’s kind and definite tone and nodded in approval. The Blatias’ painful memory tormented him but now he needed to forget and ignore it. The silence amongst both fleet’s High Officers, was interrupted by Trendar’s Quantum Operations’ Chief
—We’re ready for the coordinated quantum leaps and burst into Vintar’s Constellation’s space. Ninety percent of our forces will fall into the Atirov System, the rest will reinforce the star’s side part on the global system’s outer area.
—On Aterian’s Planetoid… the main outer base of the Atirov Empire’s Fleets.
—That’s right, sir. It’s a high probability that it is attacked simultaneously with the entire Vintar’s Constellation, and that’s at least inconceivable for us, the Astral’s inhabitants. For the ones born on this side of the galaxy.
—What thing, Officer?
—To see a military force daring to attack said Star Base, it’s impossible… In no galactic war in the Astral’s history, no one has even dared to stick their nose in the Atirov Empire’s Mother System… that’s a legendary base.
—I already know, Officer, focus now, were the general coordinates released?
—Yes, sorry, Admiral. The different battle forces entered their assignments and dynamic coordinates. Now we’ll wait for the specific star breaking coordinates in Atirov, supplied by the forefront flying sensors. Any orders, Admiral Tronius?
—Communications at a minimum. We’ll leap as soon as the flying sensors authorize the maneuvers.
—Right, Admiral.
9 - Bitter Farewells
Lestar, the new Admiral’s escort squad’s chief barely had time to go to his stateroom after going back to the flagship spacecraft.
The fleet would leap anytime now into Atirov’s System and that forced him to be back at the hangars already, next to his squads.
He felt some sort of anticipation and uneasiness produced from the rumor that roamed around the spaceship which spread like wildfire, that talked about a spy’s attack in a Tubular that was destroyed at the last minute by Espacian Intelligence agents.
Any news about the invader’s spies got him extremely nervous upon remembering that his command predecessor from the Admiral guard’s hunting squads, had died avoiding an attack which meant to end Tronius’ life.
For the time being, Lestar glimpsed at his tiny private chamber for the last time and was coming out of his stateroom when a signal from his bracelet stopped him. He was surprised upon recognizing a distant call in real time, something completely restricted at these heights. After finding out its origin, he activated the intercom nervously, closing his rooms’ gates as well.
—Renar… brother! I had lost all hopes to see you again, it’s been weeks since I’ve heard from you. Communications are minimal, and silence prevails in real time. How have you achieved it?
—Dear Lestar, it’s the last privilege which I was able to obtain before the imposed strict restrictions by the Intelligence Office and the fleets’ High Command; I must be brief. Our parents are safe and lodged in a Flantart, the Blankar spaceship.
—What a relief. Thanks for telling me, it’s been days without being able to contact them.
—They’re fine and send you all their love. I’m communicating a codified sequence that they recorded for you, they gave it to me in a microplate. How are you?
—Worried, apparently, we’ll leave any time now into Vintar’s Constellation.
—They told me you’re Admiral Tronius’ escort.
—I’m not going to ask you how you found out but, in any case, it’s not for congratulating. I wish it would have happened in peaceful times.
—I believe it, it’s a promotion that’s not of my liking either. Without going into further detail, Officer Barzi, your predecessor, was evaporated by a thermal missile… So, you should be extremely careful.
—I know, and I can’t stop thinking about it every day. It is said that the Admiral didn’t even get perturbed after the explosion, so I have no choice but to be bold.
—You’re brave brother, too brave for my likeness.
—By the way, I heard a rumor about a gamma bomb found in a Tubular. Apparently, some agents confronted some Brown spies and they blocked their way just in time… Is it true? Do you know anything about it?
—Don’t believe in rumors, just concentrate. Keep an eye on about going into the biggest battle ever seen before in all Astral’s history, and there’s no glory nor personal recognitions, nor room for distractions or rumors; it will be a straightforward struggle for survival. You must survive! Our parents need you.
—They need you too …
—Lestar, they love us both; but they couldn’t resist your death… neither would I. You’ve always been our little Lestar…
Both brothers were excited and trying to ignore the huge tragedy approaching with its full potential.
Alvian’s loss in the Tubular and now Lestar’s bitter farewell, made Renar very downhearted.
—You sound strange. Are you okay?
—I’m okay.
—Something serious has happened to you, Renar. I know you better than anybody in the whole universe.
—Nothing that we could change, brother… I must leave now.
Lestar didn’t believe him even for a second, but he knew that if Renar didn’t want to tell him, he wouldn’t be able to get nothing else out of him. The normal size hologram showed his brother’s deep sadness on his troubled face, increasing Lestar’s anguish. Besides understanding that they wouldn’t be able to do anything for each other from then on.
—Where will you go? There are only two paths, two fleets.
—I can’t tell you.
I need to find you afterwards. Don’t do crazy things. Keep in mind that you’re going to the most dangerous place in the galaxy.
—I’m the best fleet’s pilot.
—I know, but it’s not the best time to be snobbish, do you understand me? These Browns are serious business; we sadly know the power and abilities from the interceptors with whom you’ll confront within a few more hours.
—I’ll know how to take care of myself. Tell me, where are they sending you to? I see you’re at a light spaceship’s bridge… Is it a Nimide?
—Lestar, I’ll soon take off to a secret mission… to a place extremely distant and I don’t know when I’ll be back.
—I would like to go with you, my dear brother.
—And me with you. There’s no time left, I must go before Director Umbaga.
—Are you meeting the Espacian Intelligence Director personally? Dear
me, apparently, I’m not the only one been promoted!
—More than a promotion, it’s a nightmare… forget it. I would like to tell you so much more… Goodbye brother. You’ll always remain in my heart.
—Goodbye, Renar. I’ll plead with our Ancestors for you.
10 - Umbaga
In the Systemic Council’s huge Flantart, an enormous frenzy was lived. Thousands of anxious Espacians swarmed from one side to the other before the closeness of the leap to the unknown.
In the Espacian’s Intelligence Office premises, which were three stories high on the right side of the spaceship, the lanky Director Umbaga checked a set of big holographics floating around him over and over, and around other eight persons which occasionally spoke shyly. Several military agents stood aloof from them guarding, wielding black rotaries and synchronous. Behind them, hundreds of Officers monitored different size holographics, spotted with every imaginable color in different levels, connected to one another by long ramps
Director Umbaga was a man that usually wore black clothes, which fitted his athletic body perfectly, matching his skin color.
His unsurmountable dark gaze seemed to scan his surroundings without any detail ever escaping.
The high-ranking Officer looked too young despite his fifty years old, since he held the interesting record of being the first Espacian born with the implanted cell correction to delay aging; also called genetic correction from cell aging.
It was expected that this cell adjustment assembled in the aging gene and performed in less than some month-old fetuses, would help all Espacians to reach at least the age of one thousand years old in good physical and mental conditions. It was the time expected according to the extensive and meticulous experiments and simulations performed for more than one hundred years.
It represented an Espacian genetic engineering revolution, although it also generated radical opinion differences and proactive positions within the Systemic Council and in the entire society, since the accomplishment was available for suitable medicine.
