The Agathon Book 3: Sword Of Stars

by Colin Weldon

  Her back hit hard causing her to moan. She felt something clamping down on her arms and looked behind her. Her arms were now encased in the metal tubes. She looked at Tyrell’s furious eyes and gritted her teeth. She couldn’t believe how strong he was. He released the grip he had on her arms and took a step back. Carrie flailed her legs in an attacking fashion trying to make contact with him. He stood still and watched. She was trapped.

  “What the fuck are you doing?!” Carrie screamed at Tyrell half angry and half baffled by the completely unexpected nature of what was happening.

  She looked up at her hands, which were encased in the metal tubes now clamped down on her wrists and she fired the energy from her fingertips once again. Nothing happened.

  “That won’t work, Carrie,” Tyrell finally said, “There are far greater things at stake here than you realise … meaning a change of plan has had to be put in place.”

  He took a small step towards her.

  “Tyrell, so help me, you release me right now or I’ll tear this ship apart,” Carrie screamed.

  Tyrell’s hands suddenly began to ooze with the black liquid. It swirled around his fingertips. Carrie stared into his black eyes and tried desperately to penetrate his mind, to no avail.

  “Are you going to kill me? Is that part of your master plan?” Carrie said trying to calm herself so that she could get a proper grasp of this completely bizarre situation.

  “This won’t hurt, Carrie. I promise,” Tyrell replied.

  Before she had a chance to respond, Tyrell lunged at her. Long black tendrils curled around Carrie’s neck as she struggled to push him away. She tried to kick, but all she could do was wrap her thighs around his waist. She peered into his black eyes as he began to open his mouth bringing his face closer to hers. She suddenly sensed something from him. An intention, and realised what he was about to do. Terror flooded her mind as she shut her mouth and turned her face away from his. Tyrell raised his right arm and placed long black tendrils at the tips of her jaw on the sides of each of her cheeks, pulling her back and bringing his face closer to hers. Tears began to stream down Carrie’s face as Tyrell pried her mouth open. He then gently placed his mouth on hers. Carrie let out one more scream. Her air supply was suddenly cut off by a flood of thick warm black liquid. The fluid filled her lungs as she began to convulse, gasping for air. She could feel a burning sensation as the liquid seeped through her body. She felt light headed, dizzy. She felt like she was being ripped apart. The outside world dimmed as she felt herself falling into an endless deep hole.

  RUTHENIUM HOME WORLD

  Tark’An reached the outside doorway of the Device Corp main operating centre and took a breath. His relationship with the Emperor had been strained of late and his unscheduled trip to the Targlagdu vessel, not to mention the destruction of replicants would probably not go down well with the commission. The outer doors slid open and he moved inside. Drak’Lk was waiting for him. All four of his arms were crossed tightly across his muscular chest. Drak’Lk’s considerable age did not reflect on his physical condition. While obviously well past his prime as a warrior, he would have no issue in handling himself in a battle. The greying dreadlocked strands of hair he had ceremoniously tied back gave him a formidable look. He was also a good deal taller than Tark’An.

  “Your Eminence,” said Tark’An bowing his head.

  “General,” Drak’Lk said reciprocating his greeting, “We have an anomaly.”

  Tark’An cocked his head and looked past Drak’Lk at the workers behind him. Gra’Xn was trying to make himself look busy at one of the consoles behind them, but Tark’An knew that he was intently listening to every word.

  “Oh?” Tark’An replied.

  “I am not talking about your little trip, which we will discuss later, General,” said Drak’Lk growling, “We have detected a signal.”

  Tark’An frowned.

  “What sort of signal? Targlagdu vessels?” said Tark’An getting ready to order his ship on combat ready status.

  “Negative, General. It is something else,” Drak’Lk said gesturing to the large holographic image currently on display in the middle of the room.

  Tark’An looked up at the disc shaped object. He moved past Drak’Lk and down the several steps, which led to the centre of the imaging arena. He looked over at Gra’Xn.

  “It’s a ship, General, unlike anything on record, located in the Tli’Ral system. It seems to be manned by an intelligent species,” said Gra’Xn.

  “Obviously,” replied Tark’An, “How many of them are there?”

  “By the looks of it, it’s alone, but that’s not the strange thing,” replied Gra’Xn.

  Tark’An looked back at the ship. It was a simple design and he had certainly not seen anything like it in the sentient species database.

  “What is the strange thing?” Tark’An said.

  “It has a weapons signature,” replied Drak’Lk from behind him.

  Tark’An turned to look at the emperor.

  “One that we are very much familiar with,” Drak’Lk continued.

  Tark’An moved to the console being manned by Gra’Xn and began looking at the readouts. His heart began to pound at the data.

  “It can’t be,” he whispered to himself.

  “The readings are identical,” Gra’Xn said looking at him.

  “But they are no longer in this galaxy,” said Tark’An.

  “Clearly, they are. This changes everything. If they have returned to this sector, it could pose a significant problem for us,” said Drak’Lk.

  “This makes no sense. That vessel looks primitive,” Tark’An said looking at the oddly shaped rotating disk-shaped craft currently drifting through the nebula.

  A red planet came into view making Tark’An’s mouth open.

  “Is that what I think it is?” he said to Drak’Lk.

  “It is,” Drak’Lk replied.

  “I thought that planet had been destroyed,” Tark’An said.

  There was silence in the chamber as the members of the Device Corp stared at the ship.

  “Well, there it is,” Drak’Lk replied.

  Tark’An lowered his gaze to the floor and thought for a moment.

  “We cannot win a war on two fronts,” he said looking up at Drak’Lk.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Drak’Lk replied.

  Tark’An looked back at the ship. Why would they come back? And in such a primitive looking craft. It did not make sense. They were made fully aware of the Sword of Stars. They had supported it. It had been the only reason that a cease-fire had been agreed upon. What were they doing?

  “This does not make any sense,” Tark’An said.

  “No, it does not. That is why I’m sending you out there with the Praxis to investigate,” Drak’Lk replied.

  “Me?” Tark’An replied turning to face the Emperor, “The Praxis is Shri’An’s ship now.”

  His tone had been insubordinate, but he didn’t care. Drak’Lk straightened up his body and puffed out his chest. His formidable looking arms flexed.

  “General, if the Grey Race has indeed returned, we must find out what their intentions are. This could be a prelude to an invasion. I’d hate for all of this to have been for nothing.” Drak’Lk said, “While I have the utmost respect for your son as a commander, I feel the situation warrants your experience.”

  Tark’An had to admit it made sense, but sending just one ship would not be enough. If there were a fleet of cloaked ships in that nebula they would not stand a chance.

  “Very well, Your Eminence, but I want to take three vessels,” Tark’An replied.

  Drak’Lk shook his head.

  “The defence of Ruthenium must take precedence, General. Pulling three ships from the front line is too great a risk. Should a contingent of Targlagdu vessels appear, the planet could fall. We need every l
ast gun at our disposal to protect The Sword of Stars,” Drak’Lk replied.

  He was, of course, correct. Not that three vessels would make the slightest bit of difference, but it might buy them the time they needed to activate the weapon and possibly escape. Tark’An looked back up at the strange vessel. He frowned and shook his head.

  “Very well, Your Eminence. I will prepare for departure immediately,” Tark’An replied.

  “Good,” Drak’Lk replied, “Do not engage them unless ordered to do so. This is strictly an observe and report mission. Is that understood, General?”

  “Perfectly,” Tark’An replied.

  “Then I bid you good journey,” said Drak’Lk standing his ground.

  Tark’An let out a low growl before moving past the Emperor and towards the rear of the chamber.

  “One more thing, General,” said Drak’Lk.

  Tark’An turned to face him.

  “Our schedule remains unchanged. We cannot risk delaying the detonation for one ship. You understand?” said Drak’Lk.

  Tark’An gritted his teeth and nodded. .

  “Perfectly,” said Tark’An as he turned and left.

  11:

  THE SIENNA CLARK

  The restraints released, and Carrie Barrington’s body dropped gently onto the deck. Tyrell’s body remained unconscious. It looked at its former host carefully. He was still breathing. It paused a moment to observe what this new body felt like. There was a battle going on inside itself. It could feel it. It could feel the resistance in its new mind to the change. It also felt something else. It felt powerful. It felt the merging of their abilities into one solidified mass. It looked down at its new hands and felt them tingle. Taking a breath, the air filled its black lungs. How could it have doubted this bonding? It looked down at its former weak host, The Tyrell, lying there. Helpless. It could vaporise him, but something inside told him not to. It reached down and grabbed the ankle of the unconscious Tyrell, and dragged him with ease across the floor of the room. The containment tube in the corner of the room suddenly opened. It reached down and picked up Tyrell by placing its hands under his armpits and depositing him inside the tube. It stepped back allowing the container to close sealing in Tyrell who slumped down onto his knees. He would probably not survive the sudden change, but it would be interesting to see whether it was possible. It looked around and walked towards the entrance to the room. The wall shimmered becoming translucent as it passed through leaving Tyrell contained behind. It stepped out into the corridor and let the wall solidify. It was alone. It took a few steps forward and suddenly stopped. Its eyesight became momentarily fuzzy. It felt dizzy and had to place one of its hands on the wall to steady itself. She was fighting him. It would need time to subdue her. This body would need rest. She would need to fall unconscious for them to communicate. He felt her inside. She was hiding. Somewhere.

  It steadied itself and moved down the hall. This body was different. It felt lighter. It reached the transporter pod and stepped on activating it. Moments later it was back in the command centre. The others were there waiting. It connected its mind with them.

  “It is done,” it said suddenly feeling light headed.

  The world around it began to grow dim and it collapsed on the floor, falling unconscious.

  THE AGATHON

  “Well, what’d you think of that?” said Daniel Tosh to the captain as they sat at one of the FTL consoles together in the engine room.

  “It made a hell of a noise,” said Barrington resting his hand on his head.

  “Well, I have to admit, John, that it makes me feel a little better knowing there’s a gun under my pillow,” said Tosh.

  Barrington raised an eyebrow.

  “I was speaking metaphorically, Captain,” Tosh said smiling.

  “Hmm,” replied Barrington.

  He was growing more anxious about Carrie. There was something cold about the way he had been feeling for the last hour or so. He felt disconnected from her or something. To his recollection, he had never experienced a feeling like it. Like being suddenly unplugged or something. It could be stress. It could be his eye implant, which had been bothering him recently. He was starting to think that maybe he should go looking for her. He tried to get his mind off it but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” Barrington said to Tosh who was tinkering with an equation on the computer.

  “Shoot,” Tosh said.

  “Why are you still in a wheelchair?” he asked.

  Tosh smiled.

  “It always amazes me how many people ask me that question,” Tosh said.

  “Oh?” Barrington said.

  “Yeah, I could’ve had my spinal cord replaced, sure, why not? However, what if the little snot-nosed twenty-something kid they have performing the operation is having a bad day and severs the fucking thing? Or maybe he drops one of his tools in my brain because he had soap on his hands,” Tosh said.

  Barrington could not help but laugh.

  “What?” he said through a smile.

  “It’s all well and good for you, but you only lost an eye, no big deal. I happen to like my life and if nature intended me to be this way, then so be it. I like technology fine. It used to make our lives a little easier. We could spread out into the galaxy and it saved our lives, but look what happened on this ship? One little error in the code and poof! One thousand years later!” he said.

  “Now imagine that scene happening on the operating table. Fuck that, thank you very much. My chair is an amazing piece of technology and lets me live a very normal life. Besides, it can fly too,” Tosh said, activating the hover mode. The wheels of the chair regressed inside and it began to float.

  “You’re a strange man,” Barrington said, “Still, that is pretty cool.”

  Tosh laughed and slapped the captain on his arm.

  “It is totally cool, isn’t it?” Tosh said.

  Barrington couldn’t help smiling. He stood up from the console, walked over to the Betty, and began looking over the large ball of blue plasma that swirled inside it.

  “How’s Ripley doing on the bridge?” Tosh said floating over to him and following his gaze to the FTL drive.

  Barrington was lost in thought.

  “Hmm?” he said having not really heard him.

  “Ripley,” Tosh said again, “How’s she getting on?”

  “Oh, she’s doing great,” Barrington replied, “They all are.”

  He looked around the engine room watching the crew as they went about their various tasks.

  “I couldn’t be prouder of this crew,” Barrington said quietly.

  “Yeah, well. They have a hell of a captain,” Tosh said smiling.

  Barrington met his gaze.

  “Sucking up to the brass, Tosh? I didn’t think that was your style,” Barrington replied.

  “Me? Never. Now get the hell out of my engine room. We have work to do down here,” Tosh said.

  Barrington smiled and gave him a salute.

  “Yes, Sir,” he replied tapping him on the shoulder and making his way towards the rear exit.

  Another cold shiver ran down his spine.

  SCIENCE LAB 3

  DECK 11

  The door to Chase Meridian’s lab opened and Barrington stepped inside. Meridian, and her not so secret husband, Doctor Kyle McDonnell, were in the middle of a heated argument. Neither of them noticed the captain enter. Meridian was hunched over a device peering into a binocular shaped eyepiece while McDonnell leaned over her shoulder.

  “You can’t throw that much current through the control material. You’ll burn out the main computer!” said McDonnell in his thick Scottish accent.

  “Will you ever shut up? I know what I’m doing and stop breathing on me. I’m trying to concentrate, you big oaf,” said Meridian shru
gging her shoulder to try and get her husband away from her.

  He remained pinned to her shoulder looking at a set of readouts from the computer above her head.

  “It’s too much current. I’m telling you, you’re gonna...” McDonnell said before being interrupted by a series of sparks that suddenly leapt from the base of the console.

  A sound of electrical systems fusing and a distinct smell of burning filled the room as the pair scrambled backwards away from the flying discharges of electricity.

  Barrington covered his eyes as a light plume of smoke slowly began filtering out of the science station indicating clearly that the experiment was over. Meridian began fanning the smoke with her lab coat dissipating it through the air filtration systems. She looked at the captain suddenly seeing him standing at the doorway with his eyebrows raised. She then looked at McDonnell and pointed an angry finger at him.

  “Don’t say a fucking word, you, or you’ll sleep in an airlock,” she said.

  McDonnell looked at Barrington and pulled his forefinger and thumb across his lips as if he were zipping them.

  “Afternoon,” Barrington said taking a step towards Meridian waving his hand in the air to clear it.

  “Ah, Captain, what a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting you today. To what do we owe the honour?” Meridian said standing with her hands placed behind her back.