The Agathon Book 3: Sword Of Stars

by Colin Weldon

  Barrington inhaled deeply and bit his bottom lip.

  “Okay, let’s see what these babies can do, shall we? Charly, lock on and fire at-will,” said Barrington.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  Barrington tapped his comm pad.

  “This is the Captain, condition yellow, we are test firing our cannons. All stations prepare. Fire control teams, at alert level two,” Barrington said.

  “All yours, Lieutenant,” he said.

  A running strip of yellow light suddenly illuminated the bridge shedding its glow over the faces of the on-looking bridge crew.

  “Target locked. Firing,” Boyett said.

  There was a slight nudge from the force of the exterior cannons as a bright pulse of yellow light streaked across the view screens impacting on the surface of the targeted piece of space rock. The asteroid exploded violently into a haze of dust. The bridge vibrated at the reverse force of the cannons. The sudden explosion was followed by a deathly calm on the bridge. Boyett looked behind her at the captain. The asteroid was practically vaporised. Only a small collection of what could only be described as pebbles drifted listlessly away from the former central core.

  “Holy shit,” Chavel said from the navigation station.

  Barrington tapped his comm panel.

  “Engine room, report,” he said.

  “Tosh here, she’s still in one piece, Captain. That was one hell of a demonstration. The power conduits held after all. I’ll be damned,” Tosh said.

  Barrington looked at Boyett.

  “Report,” he said to her.

  “Eh ... target destroyed?” she said sounding genuinely surprised at the power of their new guns.

  Barrington smiled.

  “Well,” he said, “I think it’s safe to say we now have some teeth.”

  Boyett smiled back.

  “Yes, sir. That we do,” she replied.

  “Set a course for the planet and relay the data from the probe to the view screens,” Barrington said.

  “Sir, I’m not getting any readings at all from the probe,” Chavel suddenly said.

  Barrington frowned.

  “What do you mean, Lieutenant?” he asked.

  “Well, it’s the same problem. The probe can’t penetrate the shield covering the planet,” Chavel said.

  Boyett turned to Barrington.

  “We could just wait until Carrie gets here, sir. Landing the ship without knowing what’s on the surface is too great a risk,” Boyett said.

  Chavel turned to meet Barrington’s gaze.

  “I have to agree, sir, we are dealing with too many unknowns in this situation and I hate to be the one to bring it up, but every time we land this bird we barely make it off in one piece. I know Carrie trusts these aliens, but I see no harm in staying put for the time being,” Chavel said.

  Barrington looked at his flight crew and then up at the image of the world they were settling into orbit around. Jack’s race had presented themselves as their saviours just in the nick of time. They had equipped The Agathon with the technological capabilities to defend themselves against attack, so there was no real reason not to trust them at this stage, but he also trusted Boyett.

  “Very well,” he relied to them both, “We wait.”

  9:

  THE PRAXIS

  Tark’An stepped off the shuttle and onto the deck of the Praxis. He was greeted by a full assembly line of soldiers, each adorning the customary salute while proudly showing off their chests. Tark’An saluted them as he moved past. He was having difficulty erasing the image of Sien’An’s burning replicated body from his mind. Walking the decks of his former command was beginning to relax him. The certainty of each step, the knowledge that in an instant he could take this ship and fly it anywhere in the galaxy and begin again. He suddenly stopped walking, realising that soon enough there would be nothing left of this galaxy to fly to. He suddenly felt the urge to do battle. They were about to lose it all. The sword of stars would take care of that. Perhaps it would have been better to fight to the death. Perhaps.

  Tark’An boarded the open metal lift and turned to face his welcoming committee. The soldiers continued their silent salute. The loyalty and admiration that Tark’An had earned during the great wars now stood him in good standing. He could order any of these men to their deaths and they would follow the order without a millisecond of hesitation. That sort of devotion was not easily earned amongst his people. He extended his upper right arm and activated the lift, which responded by rising off the deck with purpose. Tark’An stood forward against the railing and looked at the floor as it regressed beneath him. He looked out at the sprawling docking bay and the impressive line-up of attack fighters that always remained at combat readiness status. He had to admit that he missed commanding this ship. His decision to head the Device Corp had probably been made in haste, but after what had happened to Sien’An, he simply could not face commanding another ship. It was an intense anger and a wish to wipe the Targlagdu from the universe that had driven him back to their home world. Thoughts of his broken command centre surrounded by flames aboard the Praxis during that final fight drifted into his head. Not knowing who was alive or dead. His final command to his helm officer to set a collision course had come too late. Thankfully. The engines were down. His flight control systems were smashed. He had not known at that moment that the final shot from the forward guns had been successful. They had disabled the deadly machine planet, but the cost had been great. Over three billion dead, replicated, replaced by mechanical counterparts.

  The lift rose higher. He was far above the docking bay and could see the running lights of the flight deck. It gently slowed to a halt near the top of a long gangway where another group of soldiers was waiting in single file. He walked briskly past the line-up and returned their salute before heading down the gangway to the lift at the bottom of the corridor. He entered it without saying anything and let the automatic door slide shut.

  “Command centre,” he said out loud.

  “Acknowledged,” replied a male computer voice.

  The lift took off and within a few seconds slowed to a full stop. The doors slid open and he took his first look at the command centre since his son had taken command. It was as if he had never left. The crew all stood to attention as he stepped off onto the familiar sounding deck plating.

  “General Tark’An, welcome,” said Shri’An.

  His son was standing at attention in the centre of the bridge in front of the captain’s podium. The newly constructed layout of the bridge was impressive. Trust the engineers to take the opportunity to redesign anything that worked perfectly beforehand and tinker with a tried and tested design. The weapons stations had remained the same. The four podiums to the rear of the bridge dedicated to the defensive systems had remained intact. It looked like the science stations that lay on either wall had been completely torn out and replaced with fancier new tech. Tark’An had overseen the Device Corp for so long that he would probably have no idea how to use them. Not that it mattered now. The large view screen at the front of the bridge showed the image of the Targlagdu vessel encompassing the entire viewing area.

  “First positions,” said Tark’An moving past the honour guard.

  The soldiers returned to their posts as he moved across the bridge to meet his son.

  “I am relieved to see you, father,” said Shri’An.

  Tark’An smiled. He did see genuine relief in his eyes at not having killed him. Tark’An placed both upper arms on his shoulders.

  “And you, my son,” he replied.

  “How are you feeling?” Shri’An said.

  Tark’An pulled his shoulders back as he released his welcoming grasp on Shri’An.

  “It is done,” Tark’An replied ignoring his question about his health.

  “What is father?” Shri’An said.
/>   Tark’An did not reply. He looked past him at the image on the view screen. Shri’An followed his gaze as Tark’An saw the light of understanding gleam in his eyes. His head bowed slightly.

  “Good,” Shri’An said, “Finally.”

  “Now we can honour her the way which was intended,” Tark’An said.

  “We will destroy them all, father,” Shri’An said with a hint of emotion trickling through his voice.

  “Patience, Shri’An. There may still be time,” said Tark’An.

  While he had no doubt that Shri’An would make a fine captain, he was impetuous and eager for the fight. That was dangerous. He was yet to find his humility in battle. Shri’An looked at him with frustration in his eyes.

  “Is the Sword of Stars ready?” Shri’An asked.

  Tark’An sighed. His son was close-minded. He was angry. He had not taken the death of his mother well and wanted to exact vengeance against the galaxy as soon as possible.

  “Soon, Shri’An,” replied Tark’An lying for the first time to his son.

  The Sword of Stars was indeed ready. All the coordinates had been locked and mapped for quite some time. That information, was of course, still highly classified. Tark’An was stalling the Ruthenium council, but he was running out of excuses.

  “I am here to run a battle simulation with you, Shri’An. The time may come soon when we will have to put these new systems to the test and I want your crew battle ready,” Tark’An said.

  Shri’An looked surprised by his answer.

  “We are ready, General,” Shri’An replied reverting back to the formality of the chain of command.

  “I have no doubt,” said Tark’An, “Show me how ready you are, Captain.”

  Shri’An frowned and took a step back before nodding in obedience.

  “Battle stations,” Shri’An said to the bridge crew who immediately snapped into action.

  Tark’An watched as the crew took their posts and envied the position his son was now in. He should never have given up his command. He stood a few paces behind Shri’An who perched himself authoritatively at the command podium.

  “Captain, I have an incoming transmission from the device commission,” said one of the officers from behind Tark’An.

  Shri’An paused and looked at Tark’An. He had not been expecting any transmission.

  “Put it through,” Shri’An said.

  The view screen flickered as the image of the Targlagdu vessel was replaced by the stern expression of Drak’Lk.

  “Your Eminence,” said Shri’An.

  Tark’An remained silent watching Drak’Lk’s eyes as they disregarded his sons and darted straight towards his.

  “General, your presence is required at the device commission immediately,” said Drak’Lk.

  Drak’Lk’s tone was stern. The punishment for any sort of disobedience was death, whether he was a general or not, but he decided to push him anyway.

  “With respect, Your Eminence, we are about to conduct a vital battle drill on board The Praxis, can it wait?” Tark’An replied.

  Drak’Lk growled through gritted teeth.

  “Immediately, General,” Drak’Lk responded cutting off the transmission before Tark’An could reply.

  Shri’An looked at his father. Tark’An nodded to his son to stand down the battle drill.

  “Stand down from battle stations,” said Shri’An.

  Tark’An gazed at the image on the view screen of the Targlagdu vessel and wondered if the Emperor had finally decided that it was time to pull the trigger. He looked at his son.

  “Get this ship battle ready,” he said to Shri’An who looked at him frowning.

  “Yes, General,” Shri’An replied.

  Tark’An turned and quickly left the bridge wondering if he was ever going to see his son again.

  THE SIENNA CLARK

  “You’re wasting time,” said Jack to Tyrell who was staring out at the streaking stars.

  There were now several members of Jack’s race standing in a semi-circle around Tyrell. Carrie and the others had left the command centre a half hour earlier. The members of Jack’s race had de-cloaked themselves moments after the trio had left. Tyrell turned to face the ensemble of those that had first created him all those millennia ago. The body that he inhabited was growing weary. He could feel consciousness coming from the human that he’d suppressed just below the surface of its mind. It was there, watching him.

  “She’s too strong,” Tyrell said to the quorum, “Her mind is powerful, and she is still not fully aware of what she can do with it.”

  Jack gazed down at him.

  “There is not a biological entity in the galaxy that can overpower your presence once you integrate with its consciousness. We made sure of that,” Jack replied.

  “She suspects something, I can sense it. She does not fully trust me and with her telekinetic abilities, it will become difficult to overpower her,” Tyrell replied.

  “The Ruthenian’s will destroy us all if we do not act. She will not cooperate while her race remains in jeopardy,” said one of the aliens standing next to Jack.

  Tyrell turned to face the almost identical member of Jack’s race.

  “This body grows weak,” Tyrell replied.

  “Even more reason to act now. The restraints will hold her. We have analysed her DNA and know that the bonding will hold,” Jack said.

  “And if they don’t?” Tyrell replied, “She will destroy this ship and all of you. These people will stop at nothing to defend themselves,” Tyrell replied.

  “This is not open for debate,” replied another member of Jack’s race.

  Tyrell gritted his teeth, a strange sensation that he was not expecting.

  “As you wish,” Tyrell replied.

  “Prepare the containment room and bring Carrie to it,” Jack said.

  Tyrell nodded and moved past the group towards the transporter pod. He wanted this of course. He wanted to taste the power that surged from within her. From somewhere deep inside his mind he heard the voice of his host scream then fall silent.

  10:

  THE SIENNA CLARK

  Carrie felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling of imminent danger. Aron’s announcement to the colony in one of the main hangar bays had been met with an initial reaction of sheer panic. She had prepared herself from the onslaught of emotion that she knew would flood into her mind and as such she had closed her thoughts to those around her. Still, she felt a wave of distressed thoughts. Tyrell’s communication to her at the end of the briefing had sounded odd. She walked the corridors of the highly advanced ship and blocked out the minds of the colonists as they tried to deal with the information that there were, indeed, monsters in the universe. She reached the transport pod and activated it. It deposited her on one of the lower decks. It looked mostly like the other ones with its smooth white walls and clinical finish. She looked down the end of the corridor and saw Tyrell waiting for her. She nodded a greeting and began making her way towards him. She had an unsettling feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. She looked at his face. His silver beard had gotten long and his black eyes made him permanently look like some sort of underwater predator. Carrie was used to it. Tyrell presented no threat to her. She was comforted by the fact that her powers had grown sufficiently to ever deal with any further outbursts from Tyrell. Several weeks earlier, they had attacked each other in his lab, only for it to end in a stalemate.

  She kept her mind closed. She was angry with Jack. He should have told her about the energy signatures before the installation of the cannons on the Agathon. She approached Tyrell, who was standing at the entrance to a room she had never been in. He smiled at her. A tingling in the base of her spine sent a familiar shock of electricity up her back. She jerked her shoulders back ever so slightly at the unexpected feeling.

  “Everything
alright?” Tyrell asked her.

  Carrie shuddered.

  “Yeah, I think someone just walked over my grave,” Carrie said.

  Tyrell tilted his head with curiosity.

  “Something my father used to say,” Carrie continued.

  Tyrell frowned. Carrie thought she saw a nervous look in those black eyes, but it was almost impossible to tell what was ever going on inside them.

  “Don’t worry about it. What’s up?” Carrie asked.

  “Jack wanted me to show you this,” Tyrell said pointing inside the empty room.

  Carrie looked inside.

  “Shall we?” Tyrell asked gesturing for her to enter.

  Carrie followed his arm and walked inside the room. Tyrell followed closely behind. The doorway solidified behind them sealing them in. Carrie looked around at the strange set up. In one corner was a long glass tube that ran from floor to ceiling. It looked to be roughly a meter in circumference. The four walls were white. There were two metallic looking tubes attached at an angle on one of the walls. That was it. Carrie looked around at Tyrell and raised her arms in a questioning gesture.

  “Okay,” she said to him, “What’s this all about?”

  Tyrell stood at the doorway and looked at her.

  “Before I tell you what we are doing here I wanted to thank you,” he said.

  “For what?” Carrie said suddenly feeling another tingle in her back.

  “I do not think that I have been fair to you, Carrie, your selflessness is something to be admired. You saved us all. If it were not for you, I would not have been able to reunite with the creators and for that I will always be truly thankful. Your species is a noble one,” said Tyrell taking a step towards her.

  Carrie sensed danger.

  “It is time, Carrie, I wanted you to know that you are going to be the saviour of billions. You will be the saviour of the chosen ones. It is time,” Tyrell said taking another step towards her.

  Carrie’s heart rate increased. She looked at Tyrell and suddenly thought that he’d grown taller and thicker. There was something oozing out of his skin. She suddenly realised that she had to get out of that room no matter what the cost. What happened next happened in a matter of seconds. Before Carrie could react, a plume of black liquid merged from Tyrell’s body forming a second skin under his jumpsuit. His hands turned black. She had seen this before. The black shield that had repelled her attack on him on board The Agathon. He lunged at her, taking several quick steps. Carrie jerked backwards feeling a surge of power from her spine as her hands began to glow with electrical energy. Tyrell grabbed both her arms before she could aim them at him and ran full force towards the back wall. Carrie instantly lost her footing at the sheer brute strength of the attack. Tyrell pinned her up against the wall with the two angular metallic tubes attached to it.