E.D.F chronicles - The Krenaran massacre.

by Ian. J. Smethurst

  Sure enough his relief walked into his office, Lieutenant Junior grade Curtis was the relief deck officer on deck 18. Michael informed the Lieutenant of the events of the day, including the problem with the docking arm.

  He gathered together his things; including his own data navigator, and bidded Lieutenant Curtis good day, before heading toward the elevator.

  Then he remembered about the meeting, damn, he thought, as he headed toward the meeting room located on deck 4. A few minutes later he had arrived, luckily he was early, and most of the other deck officers had filed in, however not all.

  Michael sat down; they were all waiting for Lieutenant Commander Rennick, the chief operations officer on board, and third in command, after Commander Angel.

  The meeting room was a long rectangular shaped room, dominated by a long boardroom table located in the centre. There was a small table bearing a coffee dispenser in one corner, and there were large view ports at one end of the room.

  The remainder of the other deck officers filed in, soon followed by Rennick, who sat down immediately. Together there were a total of 32 deck officers, one for each deck of the ship.

  “I will now call this meeting to order,” Rennick began.

  Michael thumbed through his data navigator at the events that took place during the day.

  Rennick then proceeded to ask each officer in turn if there were any problems during the shift. Many of the officers simply didn’t have any. One had a power cut to the forward section of deck 8; another had a coolant leak in the engineering section of deck 16. The toilets weren’t working properly on deck 19, minor things really.

  Finally Rennick came to Michael, “Lieutenant Alexander, what about your deck?”

  “We had a minor short in one of the power couplings in the docking arm, I had some engineers take a look at it, and it was fixed within half an hour. It probably happened after we left Delta base.”

  “Good,” Rennick replied. “And what about the tests on the targeting arrays on the port rail-cannons?”

  Michael picked up his data navigator. “They show a 98% efficiency rating; and a point 27 second lock on time sir, I have the results here.” He passed his navigator over to Rennick.

  “Good, no excellent Lieutenant, we haven’t had the rail-cannons that precise for a long time, see that they stay that way Lieutenant.”

  “Judging by the nature of our enemy sir, I made it a priority,” Michael replied.

  “Good thinking Lieutenant, when we do finally find those bastards, we don’t want to miss,” he said laughing.

  The rest of the room laughed with him; however Michael felt that they were being a little overconfident, given what happened to the Montfort.

  Soon after that they were all dismissed. As the officers left the room; Lieutenant Young, the deck officer for deck 12 approached Michael. “Hey you got Rennick laughing; he’s a tough nut to crack.”

  “Must be my style,” Michael said with a smile as he left for the bar to join up with Dylan.

  Soon enough he arrived at the Eagle bar, the meeting place, and general rest area onboard the Ulysses. Several tables were laid out, some were already occupied. A soft Jazz music played in the background.

  There was a snooker table where a couple of officers were playing, as well as a large screen viewer mounted on a wall, and a row of large view ports directly ahead that looked out to the mass of colours that was plasma drive.

  Dylan was sat at the large bar area with a beer, watching the viewer, Michael pulled up a chair next to him.

  The bartender came over to him and asked “What are you having son?” George was the cheerful civilian bartender onboard. Although not strictly part of the E.D.F Navy, he was paid by the E.D.F like everyone else. Most people affectionately called him Georgie.

  “I’ll have a beer, and some roasted peanuts please Georgie,” Michael replied.

  Georgie proceeded to pull the pint with typical practised skill. Dylan was sat quiet.

  “Hard day?” Michael asked, trying to read him.

  “First one on a new mission always is, especially when you’re going to use live ammo,” Dylan replied.

  Suddenly, the news flashed up on the viewer. “Hello, my name is Annika Raumov, this is the outer colony news service. The top stories tonight; the entire E.O.C.A is in mourning after the carrier E.D.F.S Montfort was destroyed this morning. It is the biggest disaster to hit E.D.F forces since the pirate attacks some fifteen years ago, no survivors are known to have escaped. Also in the Agemman system, mass panic has begun to take hold as the people are increasingly worried of an attack on the colony itself.”

  Georgie passed Michael his beer and peanuts, “four credits please.”

  Michael passed him his payment card.

  Shortly after Georgie gave Michael his card back, “damn thing’s been on all day,” the barman said looking at the viewer.

  Michael and Dylan both shushed him; Georgie silently put his hands up in mock surrender, and busied himself cleaning some glasses.

  They both turned back to watching the news.

  “Several civilian transports have been spotted leaving the colony, reputedly carrying refugees, while trade to the colony has all but ceased. E.D.F troops from the 22nd‘Black Panthers’ company have been drafted in to help the local police force quell several riots that have broken out in areas of the colony. And in some areas looting has already begun.”

  Footage of troops and police in full riot gear could be seen trying to contain the hundreds of rioters, as various pieces of detritus was hurled at them by the desperate populace.

  “Breaking news has just come in, we have lost contact with the Agemman system, and I repeat all contact has been severed with the colony.”

  The entire bar area became deathly quiet, as everyone’s eyes were fixed on the viewer.

  “You know what this means,” Dylan whispered. “Alert level one.”

  “All out war,” Michael finished for him; “the first alert level one, in our history.”

  Later that evening, the green warning lights flashed on again, and the warning klaxon sounded.

  “We are dropping out of plasma drive,” Michael said, stating the obvious.

  In front of the Ulysses fringed in bright white light, was an opening into ‘normal space’, the ship headed toward it, and in a blinding flash the huge battleship returned to ‘normal space’ once again.

  Ahead of it could just be seen the forms of the E.D.F task force, which the Ulysses was to rendezvous with.

  Michael could feel the ship slowing, we must be at the rendezvous point, he thought.

  He had arrived back in his quarters now, after having the single pint with Dylan, he didn’t want to drink too much in these uncertain times. He needed to keep his head clear and focused.

  Looking over to the small viewport built into the wall of his cramped quarters. He could see the shapes of two other vessels floating past, one was a small sturdy looking Gandhi class destroyer, distinguished by its sloping forward section, and its raised rear crew quarters.

  The second was a larger, sleeker, Alexander class medium cruiser, sporting a wider hull which tapers into a thinner forward section and then tapers again, where the forward docking arm is located. He could see the running lights of both ships blinking, their forms slightly silhouetted by the light of a far away star.

  He noticed the Ulysses was moving slightly faster than the other ships in the task force, so it could manoeuvre into its lead position within the fleet.

  Michael retired to his bunk for the night, it had been a long day, and no doubt it would be the same tomorrow he thought.

  He peered out the viewport for the last time, and felt somewhat re-assured by the shapes of the other vessels gliding alongside. Slowly tiredness overcame him and he relaxed into a fitful sleep.

  He awoke next morning to find his comm. Chip chirping incessantly again, he groggily pressed the acknowledge button on it; it was Rennick.

  “Lieutenant, there
is a ship wide briefing at 08.30 hours, in the cargo hold. Make sure your there.”

  “Yes sir,” Michael replied.

  He ended the communication, got up, washed, and got dressed. Soon after he headed down to the galley and grabbed a quick breakfast, before hurrying to the cargo hold.

  Dylan was already there, and Michael walked over and sat next to him. “Three guesses what this is about,” he whispered.

  Michael smiled. The rest of the crew filed in. Followed by Captain Wainwright, who once again took the stage. A Naval whistle blew, and the whole crew once again stood to attention.

  “Please be seated,” he said. “I’ll not take much of your time; I know we are all anxious to get on with our duties.”

  The assembled mass, sat down as one.

  “We have some very important news, which is again highly classified. At 21.10 hours yesterday evening, we lost contact with the Agemman colony. Since we cannot determine the exact cause of how we lost contact, E.D.F command has ordered us to maintain a level two alert; we have however begun to translate some of the communiqués sent by the alien force before the Montfort was destroyed.”

  Captain Wainwright was replaced by a slightly younger looking officer, whom Michael didn’t recognise.

  The man began, “the original messages have been put through our linguistics programs, and we have also run it through several probability matrices. Here is the original recording again.”

  The deep harsh Krenaran voice was played over the speakers. “On mulv varash a’lahun, al orash vak kroluth.”

  “That was the first communication received by the Montfort. Here it is now that it has been partly translated.”

  “On Mulv varash a’lahun, the Terrans will die.”

  “And here is the second message,” the man said as he played another recording.

  The screaming alien voice was heard again. “On vak drovath lok al Krenarii aden!”

  “And here is the translation,” the man went on.

  “On vak surrender lok al Krenarans immediately.”

  “We think that the word Krenarii is the plural for the name of their race,” he continued. “And finally here is the third recording.”

  The man played the final recording, followed by the translation.

  “Krenarii mulv brolis, al orash vak kroluth!”

  “Krenarans mulv stronger, the Terrans will die!”

  “We can now surmise with reasonable accuracy that the last message is saying that the Krenarans are stronger and all Terrans will be killed,” the man said rather gloomily.

  Captain Wainwright walked back onto the stage and replaced the man. “As of 07.30 hours this morning, we have new orders. The task force is to continue towards the Agemman system, investigate why contact has been lost, and report back to E.D.F headquarters. Furious will still be joining the fleet to give fighter support, are there any questions?”

  A man towards the rear of the room raised his hand.

  “Yes, what is your question?” asked Wainwright.

  “If the translations are correct; then why are we still at alert level two? Clearly the aliens are a hostile force and destroyed the Montfort. They have most probably attacked the colony as well; they are behaving extremely aggressively; surely we should be at alert level one?”

  “The answer to your question is that E.O.C.A is still holding out for a diplomatic solution. Also we don’t know if the Krenarans have actually attacked the colony. Until we find out what has happened, E.D.F command cannot authorize alert level one. Does that answer your question?” Wainwright responded.

  “Yes sir, thank you sir,” the man sat down.

  “If there are no further questions; then this briefing is over,” Captain Wainwright said.

  Commander Angel dismissed them, and the officers began to fall out, talking amongst themselves.

  Dylan turned to face Michael, “What do you think of that?”

  “I agree with part of it, we should investigate what has happened at Agemman, but I also think we should be responding in force, they just killed 740 people Dylan, people with wives and families,” Michael replied.

  “Yeah; if they show up, we should blast them out the stars, besides its obvious what’s happened at Agemman, the Krenarans blasted it; you heard the translations. The Terrans will die, the Krenarans are stronger.”

  “Perhaps,” Michael replied thoughtfully. “For once I hope you’re wrong,” however in his heart Michael didn’t think Dylan was.

  Later that day, another blinding flash of light near to the fleet announced the arrival of the Furious. The large carrier slowly maneuvered into position between the Yukon and the Europa, in order to give the carrier some protection in case it was attacked itself.

  The Furious launched a small squadron of fighters that swung around and performed a routine sweep of the area, before heading back into the carriers fighter bays, once they were secured back onboard. The entire fleet of seven vessels shifted into plasma drive and was gone.

  Michael had an uneasy feeling all day, he thought if the Krenarans didn’t attack the colony, and contact was lost due to the riots and the mass panic. He could be traveling to his death, because those ships were still out there, and would doubtless attack the fleet anyway. And if the colony had been attacked he could be traveling to his death anyway, because of those darned ships again. He thought of Jana and Theo; and wondered how they were coping back at Delta base.

  Never had he missed them more than he did at this moment, however he was an E.D.F Naval officer, and he had a job to do, so with a supreme effort he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.

  Chapter 5 Destination oblivion

  And so it carried on for the next three days. Rumours about the fate of the Agemman colony, was it the Krenarans? Or was it the panicking population? Was there another cause? Or was the planet even there anymore? No one could tell for sure.

  Later that evening Michael was relaxing in the Eagle bar again after his shift had ended. He was watching the viewer again, waiting for any news on the Krenaran activities.

  Finally the news flashed up on the screen again, and in an instant the entire Eagle bar fell silent.

  “Hello, I am Annika Raumov, this is the outer colony news, the top stories today. There is still no contact with the Agemman colony, there is also a huge refugee crisis at the Aurelias colony. We now go live to our correspondent at the Aurelias colony.”

  “Thank you Annika.” The young correspondent replied. “I am here at Bravo Gamma base, a small training facility for the E.D.F troop division; within the past few hours the facility and the landing facilities on the planet below have been simply swamped by dozens of transports fleeing the disaster at the Agemman colony,” the correspondent took a short pause for breath.

  “The Aurelias colony has granted landing privileges to some of the transports, however there are simply too many refugees for the colony to cope with; and emergency refugee centers are hastily being erected as we speak.”

  The image on the screen changed to the small spherical orbital facility above the planet, the lights from its viewports twinkling in the darkness of space. In front of the facility were dozens of transports of various shapes and sizes, some were in a dilapidated state; decades old and only poorly maintained. Some were new; boasting the latest technology and looked ultra modern. However all were queued up past the facility awaiting landing privileges for the planet below.

  The face of the reporter flashed up on the screen again. “Most of the refugees aboard these transports have been traveling without food or water for days. Many are showing the signs of starvation, while some of the elderly have already perished en-route.”

  Suddenly there was turmoil amongst the queued up transports, the reporter was buffeted as troops sprinted through the corridor he was standing in, making the image shake. He quickly turned to someone off camera.

  “Quick, get some footage of that; move!”

  The camera quickly jerked around to see explosions
and bright flashes of white and green light, thunderous explosions lit up the rear of the line of transports in bright plumes of flame.

  The camera zoomed in to see a fleet of six ships of exactly the same configuration as the ones that attacked the Montfort, as well as a far larger vessel a similar size to the Ulysses and of the same colouring as the smaller attacking vessels.

  The six smaller ships tore into the defenceless transports with sickening ease, as they darted through the line of vessels, tearing huge gouges into their hulls as they went. The larger vessel hung back and began disgorging waves of smaller vessels that looked like fighter craft.

  The training facility only had minimal defences, since it was not an E.D.F Naval station. Its small point defence lasers were repeatedly firing at the Krenaran fighters, who were now performing strafing runs across the bases hull as the alien craft came in fast and low their energy weapons constantly firing causing huge explosions to blossom across the hull of the station. Shaking the terrified cameraman; two of the alien fighters were clipped by the fusillade of bright blue laser fire coming from the station. And span out of control before exploding in small bright fireballs that lit up part of the stations’ now fractured hull.

  The transports were faring much worse, so tightly packed it was near impossible to maneuver. Several rammed into one another in their desperation to escape the slaughter, causing massive damage.

  The scream of rending metal sounding eerily like the death screams of mighty beasts; two transports exploded, lighting up part of the convoy and the space around them as they smashed into one another.

  Another transport was caught by the green energy beams from the alien vessels; the beams slammed home with a huge explosion which tore the transport clean in half. The two ruined halves slowly floated away from each other trailing fire and torn metal debris. The ruined forward half collided into the frontal section of another transport, the force of the impact sending it smashing through the other transports hull, completely destroying its frontal section, and killing its crew instantly.

  Inertia still carried it forward; however its frontal section looked like a massive ragged wound, bleeding fire, and flaming gases into space before it too succumbed in another massive explosion that lit up the convoy once again.