The Agathon Book 3: Sword Of Stars

by Colin Weldon

  “Jesus,” he said as he fought the burning on his skin, “I’ll fry out there.”

  Tark’An just gave him a look.

  “I would suggest you stay in the shuttle, and do as your captain says,” Tark’An said.

  Chavel nodded.

  “Make sure your people don’t attack me,” he said getting out of the pilot seat and joining Tark’An outside the shuttle.

  “My people are concerned with other things,” Tark’An replied pointing upwards.

  Chavel followed his hand. He could see the huge dark orbiting Targlagdu vessel, like a moon that had gotten too close to its planet. Off in the distance he saw hundreds of ships rising like a plague of locusts towards the atmosphere. The planet was being evacuated en masse. Chavel looked back down at the huge buildings laid out in front of them. A small group of beings emerged and began approaching them. They were of equal size to Tark’An, one was draped in dark robes. Chavel began to feel a strong urge to get the hell out of there, but also felt compelled to stay. He knew deep down that he wouldn’t be harmed, but still. They grew closer. Chavel naturally took a step back. He saw Tark’An look at him.

  “You will not be harmed, human,” he said.

  “David,” he replied.

  “Be calm, David, you will not be harmed,” Tark’An replied.

  Chavel looked to the horizon again and watched as vast quantities of ships continued to rise into the sky. Tark’An turned as the other huge aliens approached. They seemed to salute with both sets of right arms against their chests.

  “General,” said the one in the dark robe.

  “Your Eminence,” said Tark’An.

  The robed alien looked at Chavel.

  “Hello,” he said giving him an odd wave and then kicking himself for acting like an idiot.

  “What is that?” said the robed alien.

  Chavel studied its features, he looked aged and had braided strands of greying hair coming from his thick leathery looking scalp.

  “This is David, a human, their people contacted the grey race. They were tricked into believing they were an ally,” Tark’An said.

  “The grey race vessel appears to have been damaged, it is currently adrift. Our sensors show it listing and out of control. Something seems to have happened on board. We must go, General, there is much to do,” said the robed alien.

  Tark’An nodded.

  “You may leave now, David,” Tark’An said to Chavel.

  “The captain told me to stay put, Tark’An, so that’s what I am going to do,” Chavel said.

  “Very well, but you may not want to be on this planet too much longer,” he said turning to the robed alien.

  “Do you have a transmitter on you, Drak’Lk?” he said.

  The robed one, Drak’Lk, reached inside a metal belt he was wearing across his chest and handed Tark’An a small black square shaped object. Tark’An took it and handed it to Chavel. “You may contact me using this if you need to, just press here,” he said pointing to a little green light.

  “Okay,” Chavel replied taking it.

  Tark’An turned and the group immediately began walking away from the shuttle, leaving Chavel on his own. He looked up at the bright sun overhead and saw something new. The light was beginning to fade as huge shadows began to cross its chromosphere. A shadow began creeping across the courtyard where he had landed the shuttlecraft. It looked like some sort of solar eclipse. He began to see a group of enormous circular discs cross paths as the day turned to night. The Targlagdu vessels were close. His heart rate increased accordingly.

  THE SIENNA CLARK

  “What the hell is going on, chief?” said Oliver Stone to Aron as they all gathered together in the common area of the ship.

  Aron watched his people as they piled in; there was a lot of shouting as hundreds of men, women, and children looked to him for answers. Doctor Vishal was standing next to him with his arms folded. Everywhere Aron looked, he found frightened faces and confusion.

  “Ollie, we need to get everyone to the main hangar deck, we’re getting off this ship,” Aron said and someone shouted something at him he couldn’t quite make out.

  People were standing on tables and staring at him. It was almost impossible to move.

  “Aron, I would suggest you talk to these people, or we’re going to have a riot on our hands,” said Vishal.

  “Take it easy,” shouted India as someone in the crowd shoved her.

  Aron looked at Maya, who was watching the exits like a dutiful sentry. Somewhere in the crowd, a baby began to cry.

  “Screw it,” Aron said pushing his way through the people and jumping up on a table.

  “Everyone, shut up!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

  There was an immediate hush. The baby continued to cry.

  “Listen to me,” he said raising his hands, “I know you have no idea what’s going on, but we don’t have time. You all know me. We’ve successfully fought together before and now we must fight again. We need to get everyone, in a calm and orderly fashion, to one of the main hangar bays on this ship.

  “Why?” shouted a woman somewhere in the crowd.

  “Because we’ve got to get off this ship,” he said.

  The crowd erupted.

  “Why?” came a shout from somewhere, “what’s happening?”

  “Why were we locked in our rooms?” shouted another man.

  “They’re going to kill us all,” shouted another woman.

  There were screams, shouts; he was losing control of the crowd.

  “Listen to me!” he shouted to the masses, “listen!” he tried shouting again.

  The throng continued to cry out.

  “Everyone be quiet,” came a stern but familiar voice. Aron looked over the heads and saw Carrie standing in the doorway. The crowd turned and instantly stifled their cries. Carrie began walking towards Aron as the people parted, making a space for her to walk through. There were hushed whispers as she approached. She reached Aron and jumped up on the table.

  “Listen to me,” she said to the gathered crowd, “The Agathon is pulling up beside this ship right now. That’s why we came to get you all. They’re waiting for us. You need to remain calm. I am not going to lie to you. The alien beings that inhabit this ship are not what we thought they were and you may see things, hear things, that you may not understand, but I promise you that Aron will lead you all to a new home world where we can all begin again. There is a transporting device in one of the main hangar bays that we plan to use to send you to The Agathon. I’m sorry, but you can’t take any belongings with you, and we must go now. We will make sure everyone gets off safely,” she said.

  She glanced at Aron who turned to the crowd.

  “We’re going to get everyone off this deck, so I want you all to follow me,” he said with sincerity.

  “Please, we can do this,” he said giving them one last look before getting off the table and making his way towards the hallway.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he whispered to Carrie.

  Carrie didn’t answer.

  33:

  RUTHENIUM HOME WORLD:

  DEVICE CORP

  “Well, old friend,” said Drak’Lk to Tark’An as they entered the main control centre of the Device Corp, “we do battle once more.”

  “We do indeed, Your Eminence,” replied Tark’An stepping into the room to stares from the others.

  “General,” said Gra’Xn chest saluting.

  Tark’An returned the gesture.

  “I honour Shri’An,” Gra’Xn said.

  Tark’An bowed his head.

  “Tactical situation?” Tark’An said not wanting to dwell on the moment.

  “Not good,” replied Gra’Xn.

  “Get General Ral’Rk on the communications relay,” Tark’An replied.<
br />
  “At once, sir,” replied Gra’Xn moving quickly to a console.

  Seconds later Ral’Rk’s large face appeared in holographic form floating over their heads.

  “General Tark’An,” he said nodding.

  “Ral’Rk, you need to move your ships into formation in front of the porthole,” Tark’An said.

  “All due respect, but we’ve got enemy ships approaching from all directions, the planet is...”

  “The planet is lost, General, we both know that now. The porthole is the only thing that matters now,” Tark’An replied.

  “Then why is one of my cruisers defending that small ship which approaches the grey race vessel?” Ral’Rk replied scowling.

  “Because they’re coming with us,” Tark’An said.

  “What are they?” Ral’Rk said.

  “What remains of a sentient civilisation that our people destroyed long ago. We’re going to try and save what’s left of them,” Tark’An said.

  “Why?” Ral’Rk said bluntly.

  “Because General Tark’An wishes it Ral’Rk,” replied Drak’Lk firmly.

  “Yes, Your Eminence,” Ral’Rk replied clearly agitated.

  “You realise, sir, that our engagement may only last a very short period of time,” Ral’Rk said.

  Tark’An knew exactly what he meant. Their fleet stood no chance against so many Targlagdu vessels; the battle could be over in seconds.

  “General, we are about to engage the Sword of Stars sequence. Defend the porthole for as long as you can,” said Tark’An.

  “By your command,” Ral’Rk said.

  “And General,” Tark’An said, “I’ll see you on the next battlefield.”

  “And I you,” Ral’Rk replied.

  The transmission went dead. Tark’An looked up at the imaging array as it relayed the images of the fleet as it surrounded the planet. He watched as the ships began to change formation, grouping together and moving towards the entrance to the porthole. He turned his head and saw the images of the approaching Targlagdu. They were close. He could see one of them beginning to split its equator. It was opening and getting ready to swallow them whole. He turned to Drak’Lk.

  “It is time,” he said.

  “Yes, my friend, it is,” Drak’Lk said.

  He turned to Gra’Xn and placed his upper left arm on his shoulder.

  “Engage the Sword of Stars,” he commanded.

  Gra’Xn took a breath.

  “Yes, General,” he replied.

  THE SIENNA CLARK

  “So, who wants to go first?” Tyrell said to Carrie as he locked the transport system on to The Agathon’s. Carrie watched him closely.

  “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” Carrie asked.

  Tyrell gave her an odd look, it wasn’t inspiring.

  “It feels like a reflex, Carrie, a skill learned when I was a child, riding a bike or whatever, it’s just there. I don’t know, but it feels right,” Tyrell said.

  “Right then,” she said watching as the colonists began arriving into the massive hangar bay.

  They would need to start transporting soon. On the upper decks, they were all lined up and waiting to use the transporter pods to come down. Maya was standing guard at the entrance, keeping watch. Carrie wondered why the grey race aliens hadn’t interfered. Probably because they were as weak, physically, as the humans were and knew they really didn’t stand a chance against Carrie. She also wondered something else. She wondered if they had abandoned ship. She had no way to know, but there must have been some sort of escape pod set up somewhere on the ship and it was looking more and more likely that they had left given the current situation.

  “You’re going to be fine,” said Aron who was trying to calm the people at the front of the line.

  “I’ll go first,” said Doctor Vishal out loud, “watch me, you’ll see that it’s perfectly safe.”

  Aron looked at him.

  “Look, someone has to do it. If I get scrambled into molecules, there’ll be no love lost.”

  Carrie looked at him. She didn’t know that much about the man suffice to say that he had been the one responsible for what had happened to Maya and a host of others on board the old Jycorp stations. He was not a popular figure, even if he was coerced into doing it.

  “All right, let’s try it,” Carrie said.

  Vishal stepped up into the large raised pad. It was at least five times the size of the transporter pads at each end of the ships corridors. Carrie tapped a control panel and activated the ship to ship comms systems.

  “Agathon, stand by, we’re sending one over, please acknowledge safe arrival,” she said.

  “Acknowledged, we better hurry, we’ve got a Targlagdu vessel nearly on top of us, Carrie,” came her father’s voice.

  “Do it, Tyrell,” Carrie said.

  Tyrell pressed the sequence as the crowd hushed, watching on with both fear and curiosity. Vishal’s body appeared to freeze solid for a moment, drawing some gasps from the crowd and then vanished. All eyes turned to Carrie who immediately activated the comms again.

  “Agathon, do you have him?” she said.

  There was a pause that seemed to last forever.

  “Standby,” her father replied.

  There were hushed whispers filtering through the silence. Carrie began to get nervous.

  “Carrie, we have him. He’s in the main hangar bay, you’re good to go,” Barrington said.

  Carrie exhaled gently so as not to be noticeable to anyone.

  “All right, let’s see how many we can fit on this pad, let’s get moving,” Carrie said to Aron.

  THE AGATHON

  “Time to intercept?” Barrington said to Ripley.

  “Thirteen minutes,” Ripley said.

  Barrington shook his head. It wasn’t enough time. He looked at the screen, which showed the planet and the orbiting ring-shaped thing that Tark’An had informed him was the porthole. Several of the Ruthenium ships had broken formation and were headed directly towards the nearest Targlagdu vessel. Barrington watched the ships as they opened fire with energy weapons, which streaked across the blackness. One of the Targlagdu vessels began opening up, getting ready to swallow up the attacking ships.

  “Track the cannon on that thing and hold for my order,” he said.

  “Aye, sir,” replied Boyett.

  He gripped the sides of his chair and looked on as alien weapons fire lit up the screens. The war had started and they were a sitting duck. He looked to the far-left screen, which showed an internal feed from the main shuttle bay. There were hundreds of people, humans, materialising from thin air. He tried not to focus too hard on the images, as he needed to maintain constant tactical readiness from the deadly threat approaching, but it was hard to look away. They were human. They were still alive. He tried to imagine what it would’ve been like living on those space stations for all those generations, but they had made it, somehow, against unbelievable odds and now, here they were. Boarding his ship.

  “Sir, where are we going to put these people?” Boyett said.

  “Anywhere, the corridors, every available space, bring them up to the bridge if we must, we’re getting them all,” Barrington said tapping the comm system on his chair.

  “Bridge to hangar bay two, clear those people into the main areas of the ship as soon as they arrive, I repeat, clear that area as soon as possible,” he said.

  There was no answer, but he knew he had been heard as the crewman in the hangar began moving them out. He caught sight of some faces. A woman holding a small child in her arms. She looked scared. More appeared out of thin air. He tapped his comm again.

  “Carrie?” he said.

  “Carrie here,” she replied.

  “How long?”

  “We’re going as fast as we can, sir,”

>   “We’ve got incoming, Carrie, you’ve got less than thirteen minutes before we have an intercept,” Barrington said.

  “We need more time,” she said.

  “We don’t have it, Carrie,” he replied somberly.

  There was a moment of silence.

  “I’m going outside,” she said.

  “Carrie, I don’t...”

  “You need all the help you can get and I can deal with that thing, buy us some time,” she said.

  Barrington wanted to object, but she was right.

  “Airlock one was damaged, Carrie, it’s non-operational. You’ll have to use the airlock on deck twenty to get in,” Barrington said.

  “Understood,” she replied.

  “Incoming transmission,” said Ferrate from behind.

  “Let’s hear it,” Barrington said.

  “Captain, this is Chavel. Tark’An just told me they’re activating their weapon. That star is going to go nova,” Chavel said.

  “What?” Barrington said getting up from his seat, “when?”

  “They’re starting up the main sequence, so I’m guessing in the next few minutes. All hell just broke loose down here, should I return to the ship?”

  Barrington gritted his teeth.

  “Negative, we’ll come get you, Lieutenant,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” Chavel replied.

  “Just sit tight, but be ready to launch on my order,” Barrington said.

  “Yes, sir,” Chavel replied.

  “Sir,” Ripley said pointing to the screen showing the incoming Targlagdu ships. They were all beginning to open now, hundreds of them, but there was something new, what appeared to be tendrils were emerging, thousands of miles long, snaking out from inside the gaping chasms of their centres.

  Barrington looked at the vessel nearest to The Agathon; it too was beginning to extend these tendrils, right in their direction.

  THE SIENNA CLARK

  “Where the hell are you going?” said Aron to Carrie as she approached him.

  The evacuation was going smoothly. Tyrell, manning the transporter pad, was sending wave after wave of colonists to The Agathon. She approached Aron and placed a hand on his shoulder.