The Corrupted Star

by Martin HC

  Serena continued to try and manoeuvre the now blind ship, Jill's head lolled from side to side as she drifted in and out of consciousness, Damon silenced the panic of the blaring alarms.

  “Serena... stop what you're doing, we can't see anyway, just try to help Jill,” he choked out.

  Damon was confident that the missile strikes against the unknown ship in front of him turned it to nothing more than a wreck, but there were times in life though when double checking something meant survival. Knowing the cameras had been stripped away, he pushed himself off his chair and moved to open the bridge window's blast shielding.

  In comparison to what you would find in a freighter or mining barge, the bridge room of the Ophelia wasn't large, but it didn't need to be being designed to only crew fifteen personnel plus the captain. Eight of those positions were reserved for bridge and command use, the remaining seven for ancillary staff, engineering and maintenance. So imagine Damon's disdain when he couldn't make the full six steps to where the shielding override controls could be found.

  Only the floor rising up from the ground to smash his face reminded him that more existed besides himself, or perhaps he fell, he wasn't certain, but in his opinion the cold hard stinging pain of the deck felt better than the spinning blackness, it assured he wasn't dead at the least.

  He heard far off his name being shouted, it took only a few more seconds for the blackness to consume him entirely.

  The Ghost Ship

  “Is this all we have of the incident in the Borei mining system,” Admiral Perron Ortza asked the room.

  “Of the server breach, yes sir, although without the camera footage we can't be certain which servers were breached, and as they were all destroyed it's likely we never will,” the major responsible for security footage retrieval told him. “Every single camera within a fifty metre sphere around that man in the middle of the screen, burned out two seconds after he gained entry into that server room,” he finished.

  “Did we identify the phantom ship first before we identified him on the station?”

  “Yes sir, it was identified close to the station itself by external cameras nearly two hours prior to this,” the major threw the image of the ship onto the holo display in the centre of the large round table, replacing the image of the man in the server room. Around the table sat eleven officers of various purposes all brought together for the high level intelligence meeting.

  “Have we identified this ship yet?” Admiral Ortza enquired.

  His intelligence officer, Colonel Brice was the one to answer.

  “We can't get anything on it, all sensor readings return us nothing, only the external cameras tied into the sensor nets can see it through visual movement, but we have to be close, very close, and it still requires someone to look at the holo monitors to confirm it's even there,” he paused briefly. “To summarise sir we have nothing on this ship other than how it looks.”

  “I see Colonel, that is unfortunate because not even we have stealth tech of this calibre, this news concerns me deeply.”

  “Indeed sir, and given that the ship itself resembles a nightmare, I'm forced to share your concern,” the Colonel finished, receiving confirming nods from a few others within the meeting.

  The ship they all looked at was streamlined, shaped by art and elegance as opposed to tactical hull designs and armour. Long and spiked tendrils jutted out and contoured to the ship's main body both to the front and rear, the foremost overlapping the nose, slowly shifting position as if swaying in a very gentle breeze, leaving everyone with the uneasy feeling of being stung and poisoned should they got too close.

  “Do we have any other footage of this man inside the station, before he was transferred into military custody?” the grey haired Admiral asked a junior Captain.

  “Plenty sir, he didn't at any time seem to be hiding from the cameras, facial recognition found him entering a station bar in the civilian province,” the major began. “As local security arrived, they noted that he was alone and drinking, so they arrested then transferred him to fleet jurisdiction,” he took a second to ensure no one had any questions before continuing. “It took them just under thirty minutes to escort him to the station's secure military centre, once there he was processed as standard, then placed into an interrogation room while waiting for the station's security commander to arrive”.

  “So they at least have his identity now?”

  “No sir, he's not in any of our databases and genetic checks could not confirm his origin, he also never gave up anything useful during processing, only that his name was Haydn and that he's trying to find out more information about the Darkspace region.”

  This news affected the Intelligence Admiral deeply, if the ship they were looking at reminded them of a nightmare, then the monster's hiding under the Darkspace veil were nightmares brought to life.

  Every one in the room knew of the Fall, and over thirteen hundred years had passed since the empire's destruction. Despite being the most powerful empire to rule the galaxy according to any known records, the Desians collapsed after prodding at the beasts within the Darkspace, only barely succeeding in driving them back.

  “I see, how did he get from the interrogation room to the server floor?” the Admiral asked the junior Captain.

  “We're not yet certain sir, by the time the station's security commander arrived, the man was gone from the room. Security footage from inside the room shows him standing, moving towards the wall then nothing else, the cameras failed just like those around the server room.”

  “Why was the disappearance not discovered before the security commander arrived, surely someone must have noticed the cameras failing, or had been checking in on him?” Ortza questioned the room again.

  It was his own security officer who took the mantle this time.

  “Sadly not sir, there's a fourteen minute window between the cameras failing and the local commander's arrival, he was then found again using the cameras which hadn't been disabled, but was already too close to the server room. By the time security caught up he was no where to be found.”

  “Was there no security detail? Or even someone watching the cameras?” Ortza questioned his security officer.

  “There were no randomised patrols of the compound in place, and the person on duty in the camera room was sleeping.”

  “I see, and how did he gain access to the server room?” he questioned further, seeming a little shocked by the answer he was given.

  “The doors simply weren't locked, sir.”

  His voice was loud now, not shouting but loud enough to clearly display his mood.

  “So to summarise, at the same time as our phantom ship shows up, station security apprehend a wanted man we can't identify and hand him over to us, we then take him to the most secure location on the station and despite having no identity leave him alone, from here he walks out his cell, through our unpatrolled corridors, through the unlocked and unguarded door of the most important room in the base, acquires an unknown amount of information then disappears again, with said information and our phantom ship.”

  He looked around the room to each of the officers in turn, his eyes burning through them one by one and nobody spoke up.

  “Do I have this right people? Is this what I have in front of me?” he demanded to know.

  “Yes sir, it is,” answered Brice.

  The Admiral was an imposing man at the best of times, intelligent, articulate and heavily built. Despite his ageing appearance people would often shy away, but now there was also anger in the mix.

  “And to top it all off,” he continued. “We don't have the faintest idea how he achieved this, as he also managed to destroy every security camera and data server.”

  “Tell me people, what did he use to destroy the servers in the room? Those rooms are eighty metres long, the servers are partitioned and shielded to protect them specifically from this kind of sabotage.”

  “We don't know, sir.”

  “Of course w
e don't,” he barked back.

  The anger in Ortza's face was evident, his eyes narrowed and he spoke through almost gritted teeth.

  “Who was the local security commander?” he ground out.

  “Commander Ivat Felis sir,” his security agent told him, not missing the past tense of the man's position in the question.

  “Have him arrested and brought here for interrogation.”

  “Interrogation sir, are you thinking he's an inside man?”

  “Well I damn well hope so, because at this point it would be less embarrassing, if he's not our enemies will be laughing themselves stupid, having just bent us all over the damned table,” now he did shout, it was fast and aggressive and didn't stop there. “Our priority here is the capture of that ship along with the man who just made us all look like five year old children, we need him alive, to know his objectives, who he's working for and who else he knows.”

  “They've been around a while now sir, I don't believe they'll make their exit just yet, the servers despite being breached, were standard net so contained nothing of real intelligence value,” Brice told the high admiral.

  “Still, I believe these people now represent a credible threat to the security of the Exelseon Mergence,” Admiral race told the meeting, taking a breath to calm himself down before continuing. “This is the third time we've identified this unknown assailant, who has displayed a level of technology far in advance to our own, and has now shown he is willing to use it against us, effectively.”

  Looking to Colonel Brice he continued.

  “Colonel Brice, I'm assigning you to the Osmer region's seventh rapid reaction fleet, you will work with Fleet Admiral Y'Riell and hunt this man, capture him at any cost.”

  “Sir, may I remind you, I'm still tied up in locating a rogue hunter fleet seen operating within our borders.”

  “I'm more than aware, but the timing of it all is too coincidental, a loose Ferren hunter fleet, a stealth ship and an incompetent base commander, they're all tied in somehow, I need you to work out how.”

  “I see, and what level of experience with regards to the mission does the good Admiral Y'Riell hold, should we run into a Ferren hunter fleet?”

  “Six skirmishes to date, pirates, mercenaries and smugglers, more experience than any other Mergence Admiral,” which wouldn't be difficult, given that since the Mergence, Sciesin and Ferren ceasefire, there'd been no conflict for eighty six years despite all three nations never having drawn up a formal peace accord. “She leads the Starfyre battlegroup commanders, a very reputable and proud bunch.”

  “Very good sir,” the Colonel answered happily, understanding that she had none at all.

  With that the meeting was dismissed.

  An Odd Pair

  Damon was still trying to process everything, he hadn't heard most of the stranger's words after first waking up however he was still alive, that much was clear.

  “.... and again,” the voice continued, and Damon for the first time truly hearing what was being spoken. “I'm really sorry about that but to be fair we honestly weren't expecting you to fire missiles at us.”

  “What... what happened?” Damon asked, he was awake now and he wasn't on board the Ophelia, which worried him. “Where am I?”

  He lay on a hard bed in the middle of a plain room with brilliant white walls and ceiling, and a girl no older than seventeen stood looking down at him with expressionless eyes, the talking male sat on a stool in the corner. Other than that there was nothing else in the room he could see, it was about now that he also realised he couldn't move his arms or legs.

  “My name is Tiralyn and this is a medical bay,” the girl replied. “You received quite a nasty head injury and so I brought you here for treatment, the concussion was extreme, the rest of your crew are stable and two have already been returned to your vessel, with the android. You can return anytime yourself if you're feeling better.”

  “Concussion, why would I have been concussed?” the memories were already making their way back into the forefront of his mind as he asked, then he worked out where he must be. “That was you, you were the ship in front of us, how did you survive?” there was agitation in his voice and eyes, he tried to force it down, to bring himself under control as the stranger stared at him.

  “Try to calm down.”

  “How can I be calm,” he shot back at her. “You attacked my ship, and now I wake up tied down to a table.”

  “We got your distress signal, came to help and you fired at us...,” the stranger's defensively strained reply was cut off as Tiralyn moved between them.

  “You're in a safe place,” Tiralyn told him, placing a hand gently onto his bare chest, Damon hadn't realised before this point that he wasn't wearing his clothes, looking down the length of his body he seen a pair of plain white boxer style shorts, and nothing else.

  “Then why the restraints?” he asked. “And where are my clothes?” he continued, feeling a tiny bit more vulnerable now.

  “Your crew mate attacked us after we revived her, no-one got hurt but the restraints were put in place afterwards as a precaution,” she gave Damon a few seconds to absorb this. “Are you uncomfortable, would you like them removed?”

  “Not at all, I often start a day like this,” he replied flatly.

  “I sense you're lying, but very well.”

  “He's being sarcastic, Tiralyn,” the nameless man cut in. He stepped toward Damon after getting up from his chair, and continued before she could answer. “She doesn't get sarcasm, but I do and if you try anything I'll throw you into space, I know she said no one got hurt but I couldn't get that freakishly strong psycho off my arm, she was trying to break it... and pushed her thumb into my eye, that hurt,” he took a breath. “I get we had a run in and Tira here thinks it was a big mistake, but I almost crapped myself when that black haired mental case threw herself on my back... I didn't even know she was awake.”

  The speed with which he burst to life threw Damon back on edge, it seemed to be a half complaint and half rant, the man's pitch climbed the more he spoke so when the tirade ended, Damon wasn't entirely sure if he'd finished or not.

  Damon laughed, he understood now what the rant was about and it would have been typical of Jill, he would truthfully have been more surprised if she'd not attacked given the opportunity.

  “You've obviously met Jill then,” Damon spoke aloud looking at the man, who in turn seemed to calm down.

  “Damn right I have,” he stated.

  “OK, I think it's fair to say that if you survived getting attacked by Jill, then you have nothing to fear from me. I won't attempt to harm anyone, please remove the restraints and let me get up.”

  Sighing, the man nodded to his colleague and walked back to his stool, as he sat back down the restraints unlocked themselves, slipped around his body and disappeared under the bed.

  Given the man's nod to Tiralyn and her age, Damon thought he must be in charge. He sat up cautiously, as if expecting the restraints to slam him back down, and surprisingly despite the injuries he sustained, he could swear he'd never felt better in his life.

  “You said that Jill is fine and back on our ship with Serena, what about the rest of my crew?”

  “We have two of your crew in other rooms like this, the poisoned man was returned to your ship and should also be awake by now. We found him in his bed unconscious, amazingly with no injuries, he's currently sleeping off the toxins in his blood.”

  “Toxins?” Damon asked.

  “She means alcohol, he was really really drunk. Tiralyn we've been over this, if someone's been drinking alcohol it just means they're drunk, you don't have to call it poison,” looking back to Damon he rolled his eyes. “She never lets me drink.”

  “I've never once stopped you from consuming it.”

  “You never let me make it, how can I drink it if I can't make it.”

  “You've always found other ways of acquiring the poison in the past.”

  “Yeah, but I have to
steal the stuff from space stations, cause we don't have money to buy any, and why are you still always calling it poison, was it her that done this to you, is she messing with your mind?”

  “I'm not sure I know what you mean,” Tiralyn answered.

  “Yeah but I'll bet she knows what I mean,” he replied back to her. “She was the first one of the two of you to call it poison after I got into trouble that one time, and it was only then that you started calling it poison too.”