The Agathon Book 3: Sword Of Stars

by Colin Weldon

  Maya walked calmly over to Aron and laid a hand on his chest. Tears streamed down his face as the profound sense of love and relief swept through his body.

  “You saved me,” she said quietly, “now I save you.”

  BRIDGE

  Carrie looked around. The place she was in felt different. It felt real. She could see Jack and several other members of the grey alien race attending to holographic interfaces. It looked like she was on the bridge. She looked up at the large projection of the outside world. The ship appeared to be in hyperspace. Gently raising her right hand to her ribs, she checked for wounds. There weren’t any. She had woken up, her real mind back in control of her real body.

  Was The Black gone? Had she defeated it? Was it still inside her?

  Jack turned suddenly and looked at her. She flicked her eyes back up but kept them open. His tall body appeared next to her and looked at her with his large almond eyes.

  “You are awake,” Jack said in English.

  Carrie looked at him. She had a choice to make. She closed her mind. Locked it down.

  “She’s gone,” Carrie said wondering if her bluff would work.

  Jack tilted his head and stared at her.

  “You have full control?” he said.

  Carrie wondered why he was speaking English to her. Perhaps The Black had gotten used to it and it was merely habit.

  “I do,” Carrie replied, “undo the restraints.”

  Jack paused; another alien joined him. Carrie didn’t recognise him, or her, it was hard to tell the difference in sex, and she wasn’t entirely sure that there was one. It was shorter than Jack though, so she nicknamed him shorty in her head to differentiate. Shorty’s eyes were slightly smaller too. Jack turned to Shorty and nodded. Shorty pressed a button on the table she was lying on and the restraints simply vanished into thin air. Carrie sat up and swung her legs carefully over the table. She kept her expression blank, trying to remember how Tyrell had behaved when he was possessed by The Black. She turned her head to face Jack.

  “What happened?” Jack said.

  “She was more powerful than anticipated, her mind had a self-defence mechanism that was unexpected, so I had to shut it down and destroy what was left of her. She will not be returning,” Carrie said in a fairly monotone voice, “did you destroy The Agathon?”

  She felt her heart rate pick up desperately hoping that the answer was not going to be a yes.

  “No, we decided to conserve power for the weapon. We need it at full strength to deal with the Sword of Stars. You damaged the vessel beyond repair. We left it to die on its own,” Jack stated.

  Carrie fought the urge to grab the son of a bitch by the neck and strangle him to death.

  “Good,” she replied looking forward, “what is our position?”

  “En route to the Ruthenium home world. We should reach it within three and a half units,” Jack said.

  Their measurement of time was something Carrie had learned. One unit was just under twenty-two Earth hours.

  “We’ve had problems with Doctor Tyrell,” Jack said.

  “Oh?” Carrie replied trying not to show any emotion.

  “He and two others tried to escape. They’ve been captured and are currently being held in the lower deck examination room,” Jack said.

  “What others?” Carrie replied looking at him.

  “Aron Elstone and a female human. We are testing their limits and plan to dissect them for information on the human anatomy,” Jack said.

  Carrie felt a wave of panic explode in her stomach. Her heart began thumping.

  Shit! she screamed to herself.

  “I would very much like to witness that. It could aid in further assimilation of the others,” she said trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

  “Very well,” Jack said.

  Carrie looked at Shorty who was silently staring at her. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see distrust in his face. She ignored it and continued with the charade. If she could get to the transport pod, at least she’d have a chance. She began to walk slowly towards it.

  “One moment,” Jack said from behind her.

  She froze.

  They know.

  She turned to face them. It was like looking at a pair of wolves who hadn’t decided if they wanted to eat you or not.

  “Return to the bridge later. We need to discuss further plans for our arrival,” Jack said.

  Carrie simply nodded and turned back to the transporter pod. She stepped inside and activated it. A cold feeling entangled her as she was whisked away. She stepped off onto the deck and took in several large breaths, placing her hand on the wall to steady herself.

  THE AGATHON

  “Well, what’s the situation?” Barrington said to Tark’An as he reattached one of the coolant hoses to the main reactor. Tark’An looked at him.

  “This thing knows its stuff, I’ll give it that,” Tosh said from behind the captain.

  “It should function now,” Tark’An said.

  Barrington looked at Tosh who was furiously tapping commands into a nearby console. After a few seconds, he looked up at him and gave him thumbs up.

  “We’re good, you can fire it up,” Tosh said.

  He looked at Boyett, who was watching the whole thing with her arms crossed. She’d been decidedly quiet since he’d explained the full seriousness of their situation. She smiled at him and nodded. He smiled back.

  “Let’s get up to the bridge,” Barrington said before turning to Tark’An, “we’re going to need coordinates.”

  Tark’An nodded, before jumping from the top of The Betty to the deck, a good fifteen feet. He landed with a large thud, sending a vibration through the deck and causing the entire engineering crew to stop and stare. He took the impact easily with his muscular legs and stood next to Barrington, towering over his head.

  “Jesus,” Barrington heard Tosh say under his breath.

  Barrington ignored him and walked towards the exit doors of the engine room with Tark’An and Boyett in tow. The trio made their way through the corridors of the ship to a chorus of hushed awes as the former Martian colonists stood back against the walls allowing them to pass. Tark’An looked straight ahead, paying them no heed. Barrington saluted a female ensign who had dropped what looked like a data pad on the ground. She nervously saluted him back. They reached the lift and barely squeezed in with Tark’An having to duck his huge head in order to stand up straight. His shoulders pressed hard against the captain and Boyett, making Barrington feel like a canned field ration. Barrington caught a glimpse of Boyett’s face pressed up against the wall of the lift as it began its journey back to the bridge. The sight of it released something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He began to laugh. Boyett turned her squashed face to him and frowned, which only distorted her face further, looking utterly ridiculous. His laugh grew from a snigger to an outright chortle.

  “You find this funny?” she said through a squashed mouth, which made her voice sound squeaky.

  At that point, he just lost it, bursting into a full-blown belly laugh, which brought tears to his eyes. It was obviously infectious as she started to laugh too, but through squashed cheeks, which made it sound even worse. The pair continued to laugh until the doors finally opened and Tark’An stepped out allowing Boyett to breathe. Tark’An turned and looked at Barrington.

  “What is that sound?” he said in a growling tone.

  Barrington and Boyett continued to laugh until the captain finally regained control of himself. He cleared his throat and looked up at Tark’An.

  “What sound?” said Barrington, “laughing?”

  Tark’An studied him thoughtfully.

  “Never mind. I’ll try to explain later,” he said moving past him and onto the bridge.

  Barrington regained his composure quickly at the sight of
Ripley’s bloodied face and the reality of the situation came sweeping back to him.

  “Take your station, Lieutenant,” he said to Boyett

  Boyett obeyed as Chavel lifted himself out of the suspended flight chair and went back to his navigation station. She slapped him on the shoulder as she propped herself into the seat and began running through her flight procedures.

  “FTL systems online, sir,” she said.

  “Where we off to?” said Chavel to the captain who turned to Tark’An.

  “My crew needs coordinates,” he said.

  Tark’An turned to Barrington.

  “May I access your flight controls?” he said.

  Barrington nodded. Tark’An moved over to Boyett, and began inputting a set of coordinates. She leaned back as far as possible to give him space.

  “Got it,” she said checking the data, “FTL ring released and beginning its rotation.”

  “Then let’s go,” Barrington said.

  The deck plating under his feet shuddered as the ring surrounding the ship began to spin.

  “Forty seconds,” Boyett said.

  Barrington could hear the hum of the FTL ring as its rotation sped up.

  “Captain,” Tark’An said suddenly.

  Barrington raised his eyebrows.

  “What is the condition of your weapons systems?” he said.

  “David, the weapons?” Barrington asked.

  “Still offline, sir, one of the power conduits in the main hangar bay blew,” he said.

  “Still non-functional,” Barrington said to Tark’An.

  “I suggest you make them a priority. You’re going to need them.”

  “Six seconds,” Boyett said, as Barrington felt the pull of the distortion effect as the FTL ring reached its full rotation speed.

  Five seconds later, the ship disappeared from the nebula in a small blink of light.

  27:

  RUTHENIUM HOME WORLD

  Drak’Lk stood in the grand gallery overlooking the Sword of Stars. He peered down at its molten red core as it spun. The red ball of super-heated material spanned a kilometre in every direction. Drak’Lk folded his hands behind him and looked past the core at the ruins of the old capital. The broken and now empty buildings that used to reach the clouds, were a constant reminder of what could have been the end of their entire race. Light from the two suns overhead cast brilliant streaks through the empty windows of what was now a memorial. Drak’Lk looked to the sky and watched as the orbiting Targlagdu vessel passed peacefully overhead.

  He thought about his clan, all of them wiped out. He was the last of the ‘Lk’ bloodline. Life on this planet was about to come to an end. In the centuries spent rising through the military ranks, Drak’Lk had seen enough of this galaxy, and was, quite frankly, ready to see the end of it. He had destroyed more races than he could keep track of, all to hinder the progress of the Targlagdu. The grey race had been a plague on them from the very beginning, vying for control of the stars. He looked up at the orbiting Targlagdu vessel and remembered the final battle. It had filled the sky with fire and claimed most of their battle ships. The fleet that had been left behind had been a mere fraction of what the empire had once had. They were a broken people and now they were going on the run. The portal gate had already begun filling up with transport ships on their journey to the galaxy closest to their own. He had promised his people that the threat would not follow, could not follow such a vast distance. Their home world was to be destroyed. Although he would never show it in public, the grief for his clan had carved itself into his thick bones.

  The council members had insisted that he be the first to go through the porthole to safety, but he had, in no uncertain terms, made it very clear that his feet would be the last to leave Ruthenium. A light chime from behind him interrupted his thoughts. He turned to the door.

  “Come,” he said loudly.

  The door slid open with a whooshing sound and Gra’Xn entered. His thin frame was covered in a black ankle length lab coat that was fluttering at his feet as he quickly approached Drak’Lk.

  “Your Eminence,” said Gra’Xn.

  Drak’Lk turned to face him. This was not good news. He could tell by the wide-eyed frantic look on the scientist’s sweaty face. Gra’Xn reached him, nearly out of breath. Drak’Lk made a mental note of his physical fitness and reminded himself to have a talk with him about it. It was unacceptable not to be in warrior condition, although he had been lenient with him as he basically lived in the device chamber nowadays, but still.

  “Speak,” said Drak’Lk.

  “It’s the Praxis, sir, we’ve lost contact with her,” said Gra’Xn.

  Drak’Lk frowned.

  “Is she out of range?” Drak’Lk said already knowing the answer.

  There was no range in the galaxy that their communication systems couldn’t reach. Gra’Xn shook his head.

  “The log buoy transmission shows something else,” stated Gra’Xn.

  There was a moment of silence between the pair. Drak’Lk widened his eyes.

  “Well?” he said.

  “Well, sir, the images show a grey race vessel, followed by an attack. By the looks of it, she’s been completely destroyed,” said Gra’Xn.

  Drak’Lk pulled his shoulders back and took a large breath as he tried to take in the information that his friend was dead.

  “What?” he said, “No signals from General Tark’An?” he said trying to keep his voice resolute.

  Gra’Xn shook his head.

  “No, sir,” he said, “that’s not all.”

  Drak’Lk gritted his teeth and moved his four arms across his chest, folding them in neat succession.

  “The grey race vessel … the last telemetry shows it en route,” said Gra’Xn.

  “To where?” Drak’Lk said, again knowing the answer but needing verification.

  Gra’Xn took a breath.

  “Here, sir,” he said.

  Drak’Lk raised his eyes and looked past the skinny scientist, turning his body to gaze out over the weapon once more.

  “You’re dismissed,” said Drak’Lk.

  “But, sir,” Gra’Xn said, “if there really is a grey race vessel on its way, they may try to destroy the portal. We have thirty ships at its gate right now trying to ... “

  “You’re dismissed,” Drak’Lk said again interrupting him.

  Gra’Xn bowed politely, rubbed his forehead, and made his way out of the grand room. Drak’Lk walked over to a wall interface and placed one of his hands on the dark mirrored surface. It immediately came to life.

  “Patch me through to General Ral’Rk,” he said.

  The screen immediately bleeped, showing an array of swirling circular lines of light as it obeyed him. The reflective black glass was replaced by the stern image of General Ral’Rk, the current head of orbital fleet operations, an experienced and battle hardened warrior who had assumed the position following Tark’An’s reassignment to the Device Corp. He looked back at Drak’Lk with his singular eye, the other a scarred empty pit. Metal armour covered his shoulders and Drak’Lk could just make out the gold rank insignia bolted onto his right breast plate. Ral’Rk was a hero and could have run for the planetary leadership himself had his bloodline not forbidden it. He, of course, would never have done it anyway. He had expressed to Drak’Lk, quite unequivocally, that he wished to die in his uniform, not in a politician’s bed chamber.

  “Your Eminence,” Ral’Rk said in a deep rasping whisper.

  Ral’Rk was an imposing figure, even to Drak’Lk.

  “General, prepare the fleet for a possible assault,” Drak’Lk said.

  “From?” the General said with an unflinching look in his eye.

  “There is a grey race vessel on its way here,” said Drak’Lk.

  That seemed to peek his attention. Dra
k’Lk thought he saw what looked like surprise, but it could have been an involuntary twitch.

  “A grey race vessel? Here?” Ral’Rk replied.

  “Yes, General,” Drak’Lk paused for a moment knowing that what he was about to say next would guarantee an emotional response.

  “We’ve had a transmission from The Praxis’s log buoy. It’s been destroyed, General,” Drak’Lk said.

  Ral’Rk reacted immediately. His only eye widened showing the depth in colour of his green eyes.

  “What?” the General replied.

  “I’m sorry, General, it would appear all hands were lost,” Drak’Lk said.

  “General Tark’An?” Ral’Rk asked.

  Drak’Lk shook his head. Ral’Rk dropped his gaze from the monitor and seemed to glance somewhere off to the side.

  “Shri’An? Any survivors at all?” Ral’Rk said looking back up at the screen.

  “Not that we have been made aware of,” Drak’Lk replied.

  Ral’Rk pulled his lips back and gave a feral growl showing his long sharp teeth.

  “Time to arrival of the grey race vessel?” Ral’Rk snapped.

  “We’re getting that information now, but it should arrive...”

  “I’ll tear it apart, sir,” Ral’Rk said.

  “General, I need not remind you that your priority is the protection of the porthole. All other considerations are rescinded,” said Drak’Lk.

  “I can do both,” Ral’Rk replied.

  “Yes, General, I know you can.”

  “Activate the planetary defence systems and mobilise whatever we have left on the ground into orbit as soon as possible,” said Drak’Lk.

  “Understood.”

  “And, General, keep your men focused. If news of Tark’An’s death circulates throughout the fleet, it will create distractions that we can’t afford right now. We’ll have our revenge, the Sword of Stars will guarantee that,” Drak’Lk said.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Ral’Rk placing both his right arms across his chest in a salute.

  “See you on the other side, General,” Drak’Lk said.

  “Of that you can be sure,” Ral’Rk replied.