GALAXY AT WAR: Three Space Opera Adventures for the Price of One!

by Drew Avera

It was cold how he referred to the debris field of her ship. Anki wiped away a fledgling tear from her eye and swallowed down her emotions. Now wasn’t the time. The Seratora was lost and there was no changing that, but if he could save them, that was enough. She could grieve the Sera later.

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Malikea asked.

  Brendle turned to look at the man. “Very, but it’s more dangerous for them, The Telran is too heavy to follow us in a straight line. If nothing else, it could buy us a little time. What do you say? It’s your ship technically.” Anki thought she could see a smile forming on Brendle’s lips, but it might have been the way the lighting hit his face.

  Malikea looked at her, the signs of worry etched hard on his pale gray face. “What do you think, Anki?” he asked; his yellow eyes wide, eager for her to tell him what was right.

  With every fiber of her being she couldn’t understand why the question was coming back to her. It struck her that Malikea might trust her more than he trusted Brendle, but that didn’t make her an expert in piloting a ship. The only thing she knew at the moment was that she didn’t want to die. Whatever helped her achieve that goal was all right by her. “It’s your ship, but I think Brendle has a good plan for getting us out of here alive,” Anki said. The words “good plan” echoed in her mind for a moment, questioning her sanity.

  All eyes were on her. Did she make the right choice in trusting Brendle? She could only hope so. If it was any consolation, at least they weren’t dead yet. That was her buy-in for following his lead. At least we aren’t dead yet. It sounded ridiculous when she thought about it, but she couldn’t find the strength to take it back.

  “Do what you need to do,” Malikea said. He nodded at Brendle. She took it as a symbol of understanding shared between the two of them. Anki had no idea where that understanding would go if they made it through the gateway, but for now all she could think about was getting to that point.

  “All right, hold on everybody,” Brendle said as he braced himself next to the console. Gravity increased exponentially over the course of several seconds. Anki could feel the blood draining from her face and everything was becoming a blurry version of the world. She heard the groans of a masculine voice behind her, or beside her, she couldn’t conceive direction anymore. All she knew was that flying hurt, a lot. She began to pass out, the world coming to life in intermittent bursts of blurred blues. The pressures were extreme to the point she couldn’t even turn her head. Why did I agree to support Brendle? This is what I get for trusting the enemy, she thought between moments of her world going black.

  Chapter 24: Brendle

  The mind is a powerful thing. It didn’t matter that there was no such thing as turbulence in the dark, or that the rumble of the engine had faded once they broke orbit. For Brendle, the Replicade was shaking under his control, fighting for elevation as it seared through the debris field of what was left of the Seratora. It had been the ship Anki was on and now it was gone, depleted of life and fizzling out as the radiated portions of the debris cooled in vacuum. He had seen the ship go nova, but now that he knew a survivor the spectacle of it had waned. The only interest it held for him now was not in the relative beautify in the way it burned, but at all the ways it could damage the Replicade and cause them to meet the same demise.

  His hands were sweaty and he was getting nervous that his grip on the console might slip as he maneuvered the ship, zigzagging between larger portions of the Seratora’s remains. He was aided by the large monitors on the ship alerting him of the hazards as the Replicade reached out, burning through the dark being its only escape plan, but the execution was all up to him.

  It occurred to him, after a time, that he didn’t hear anyone speaking anymore. Even the light conversation of two people whispering was silenced. He dared a look behind him and saw the bodies of Anki, Deis, and Malikea unconscious on the deck. Worried, he fumbled through a secondary console and scrolled his fingers across the screen. “Come on, where are you?” he said out loud, but no one was listening. Several pages of data went past as he glanced from console to console, monitoring the trajectory of the ship while also searching for the auto-pilot program. He found the file, but it was text only. “Shit,” he said, opening the file with a keyboard application projected in front of him. As luck would have it, the file actually had a speech function. He selected it.

  “Ship, I have three personnel unconscious on the bridge. I need a health diagnostics. Execute,” he snapped, his hands falling back to the console to avoid what looked like a burning transport.

  The projected display blinked obnoxiously, but he could tell it was the ship’s artificial intelligence waiting to respond. The text followed soon after. “Replicade AI detects three personnel casualties in varying states of criticality. One female, unconscious with light breathing; none threatening situation. Cause of casualty was drop in blood pressure. Heart rate and blood pressure are normalizing. One male, unconscious with light breathing; non threatening situation. Cause of casualty was drop in blood pressure. Heart rate and blood pressure normalizing. One male, unconscious with staggered breathing; criticality to life is fluctuating. Cause of casualty was blunt trauma to the head causing swelling in the brain. Heart rate and blood pressure waning. Recommend expedient transfer of personnel to medical bay for class three first aid. Would you like for Replicade AI to assist?”

  The screen was full of all kinds of useful information. The first two casualties were negligible, but the third casualty could mean loss of life if Brendle didn’t do something quick. “Ship, I kind of have my hands full right now. Is there a way you can wake up one of the others and have them take Deis down to the medical bay?”

  The icon blinked again, but the response was faster this time. “Replicade AI is unable to function as you desire. The interfaces between Replicade AI and manual control of the ship’s interior have been offline since the drive initiation prior to flight.”

  “Figures,” Brendle said. All the rush in bypassing the safety protocols meant Anki probably ripped out the interface when she yanked out the wiring in the bulkhead. Half the wires were still jutting out like hairs on a wild animal. “Ship, can you take control of the ship’s flight control systems and get us through the debris field?”

  “Replicade AI does have access to exterior flight surfaces and engine thrust control capabilities. This does not afford the piloting software the ability to perform maneuvers beyond collision prevention and sustained flight path. Is this suitable?”

  Brendle read the message and stifled a laugh. “Yes, ship, that is suitable for now. Please, take control and maintain present heading.”

  “There is a flight path available with lower risk of collision. Do you wish to change course?”

  A new flight path appeared on the screen, banking the Replicade hard left, reducing speed, and allowing the Telran to be in range for a lock. Not no, but hell no, Brendle thought. “Negative, ship, maintain present course, no deviations from set heading.”

  “Acknowledged,” the screen read. Brendle wondered if it would have sounded sarcastic if the interface allowed him to have speech and audio hadn’t been disrupted. It was a thought he shook out of his head as he ran over to Anki and Malikea. If he could get one of them awake then they could help with Deis.

  Brendle stopped at Anki first, shaking her by the shoulder, “Anki, wake up,” he said until she finally stirred. She looked groggy, but that was to be expected, he thought as he moved over to Malikea. Anki sat up and rubbed her forehead while Brendle stirred Malikea awake. Lucky for Brendle, the other man was more alert after Brendle touched him.

  “How long was I out?” Anki asked, but her question went unanswered as Malikea sat up.

  “I need your help getting Deis to the medical bay,” Brendle ordered. Both Anki and Malikea looked over as Deis. The shallow rise and fall of his chest wasn’t a good sign. “I’ll grab his arms and you take his feet,” he said.

  Malikea wasted no time climbing to his feet to help,
stepping over his husband and kneeling down to grab his ankles. “I’m ready,” Malikea said.

  Brendle nodded as he reached for Deis’ wrists. “Anki, I need you to make sure there’s nothing between us and the med bay.”

  She was already standing. “Got it,” she replied as she jogged hurriedly off the bridge and down a passageway.

  The ship was only three decks, with the bridge on the top deck and the crew cabins on the second deck along with the medical bay and galley. The lower, third deck, was reserved for the engineering spaces and machine shops. The aft portion of the ship was for cargo and could be accessed from the first and third decks. The fact that most ships were designed relatively the same was a good thing, Brendle thought. The bad thing is that getting a full-grown man down a ladder well without a stretcher was difficult. He wished he had sent Anki for a stretcher first, but in the name of expedience neglected to do so. Whatever damage had been done, it was too late now. Brendle and Malikea laid Deis on the open medical table and straightened out his body.

  Brendle grabbed the nearest console while Anki and Malikea strapped Deis to the table turned on the med cart. Accessing the same interface as the bridge, Brendle spoke, “Ship, I need you to run a secondary diagnostic on Deis. He is now in the med bay.”

  The crew of three looked down at Deis as the med cart scanned him, red and green lights shone up and down his body as it read all of his stats. Brendle watched the readout for what the ship might find. It came sooner rather than later. “Replicade AI is initiating class three first aid. There were no changes in status from moving the casualty, though next time a stretcher is recommended for moving a casualty with a head injury.”

  Brendle shook his head. He was relieved that Deis was getting treatment, but if there was further damage, it would have been his fault. No wonder Malikea thought I was trying to kill them.

  “Are we out of harm’s way?” Anki asked, stepping closer to Brendle while Malikea held Deis’ hand, whispering something in his ears, probably encouragement or a prayer, Brendle thought.

  “I have the ship’s AI flying us out of the debris field, but the interfaces are damaged from bypassing the protocols when we initiated the drive sequence. So being out of harm’s way is a relative thing. I do think we are out of range for the Telran to get a lock on us, especially with all the debris from the Seratora.”

  She stared at him, a look of hurt in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” he said.

  She just shrugged and stepped back towards Deis and Malikea.

  Brendle stood there, biting his tongue and wishing he had put some thought behind his words before he brought up the Seratora. It was too late now, though. He looked at the console in the med bay. It had a lot of the same controls as the bridge, but he didn’t have a large monitor to use for tracking. Based on the heading, they were a short distance from Key Lourna which was a very good thing if they can make it there in one piece. The better thing would be to make it through Key Lourna in one piece.

  “I’m heading back up to the bridge. We’ll be approaching Key Lourna soon, so settle in and get strapped in. we’ll be flipping and pulsing the drive to reduce thrust. I’m not trying to slam on the brakes, but it’ll get bumpy either way,” he said.

  Anki and Malikea both nodded their heads, but stayed silent. Brendle stood in the doorway of the hatch and watched Malikea rub his hands over Deis’ chest, the sound of the medical scanner beeping in the background. He made eye contact with Anki for a brief moment; a tear rolled down her cheek and she looked away. That tear was because of me, he thought as he turned to walk away.

  He made his way forward and jogged up the ladder well into the bridge. The large monitor showed little residual debris from the Seratora which could mean anything, but he hoped it meant they were through the field and out of sight of the Telran. His hands gripped the control console and he made some quick calculations for approaching Key Lourna. There was a message from the AI on the projected screen. “Replicade and her crew are clear of ninety-eight percent of the debris scattered in the vicinity of the scheduled flight path.” It was something he already knew by looking at the monitor, but he tapped the screen clear and began taking control of the ship again.

  “Ship, I need to reduce thrust to enter a Service Station at the coordinates on the monitor. The Replicade is a little larger than most repair ships, but we need to make this happen. What course of action do you recommend?” he asked. Might as well take advantage of the situation if it’s available.

  The screen came to life with a new message. “Replicade AI does not advise taking prescribed course of action.”

  “Yeah, that’s not really on the table for discussion. We will be entering the Service Station; I just need to know how to do it without killing us.”

  “Replicade AI has no recommendations with greater than forty-percent survivability.”

  “Well, shit,” Brendle hissed. There comes a time in every man’s life when you have to go against the grain. It might not be the right way, but it’s the necessary way in order to learn and grow. Brendle had been at this point several times in life. Usually, the stakes weren’t as high, but the chances of the Telran catching up were too severe to not take the risk. Just because a computer designed to operate a ship within the confines of set parameters couldn’t see a way to pull it off, didn’t mean Brendle couldn’t fly the ship ass-first, doing somersaults into Key Lourna if he needed to. Of course, the forty-percent survivability was grating on him a bit, but they were dead either way if he didn’t try.

  He wiped the screen clear again and reverse dumped thrust. Somewhere outside the ship the engine’s vectoring shifted and produced all kinds of noise, if it could be heard in vacuum. Instead, he was met with a violent shake of the ship and a loss of gravity as the ship tumbled. Brendle lost his grip on the console and fell aft, or up, or whatever direction was relative as the entire space cart-wheeled around him.

  He kicked off the bulkhead and reached for the console, finding purchase with the fingers of his left hand. He used the reverse thrust to slow the ship down and waited for the Service Station to grab them. He had only used a Service Station like Key Lourna once, and the sensation was akin to what fluid must feel like being sucked through a hose. Orientation changes rapidly, something similar to gravity causes bodies not strapped down to ride against the outer reaches of the suction like a tornado drawing them up and out. He forgot that the last time he had used a Service Station he had been strapped into a bunk and had a suit on to keep the blood from rushing out of his brain. The memory of it came too late as he was hurled across the bridge and eaten by the darkness creeping through his mind as he lost consciousness.

  Chapter 25: Anki

  She found him in a heap on the deck. There was no blood, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was alive. It’s been a hell of a day to be on a ship, she thought as she knelt down to check for his vitals. His pulse was normal and the cold touch of her hand against his neck apparently startled him. Brendle jarred awake, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. “What happened?” he asked as he patted himself down. Must be searching for injuries, she thought.

  “I didn’t stab you,” she said, fighting back a smile, “I didn’t shoot you either,” she added.

  He looked up at her, the joke suddenly realized as he laughed painfully. “I know, but the last thing I remember was being thrown into the air and slamming against the bulkhead. I think I might have cracked a rib.”

  “Do you need to go to the med bay?” Anki asked. She certainly hoped he was man enough to take a cracked rib. Of course, she had given him a rather severe beating before and he had taken that with a bit more than his dignity intact. That fact still grated on her nerves so she pushed the thought away.

  Brendle rose to his feet and arched his back. He looked around, but for what she didn’t know. “We were burning hard with an elevated pitch, what happened?” he asked.

 
Anki just shrugged. “I’m not sure. We felt the shift in pitch and assumed you had done it. Once the thrust leveled out the gravity on deck I decided to come see how things were going. That’s when I found you,” she said.

  “Hmm,” was all he said to that; instead, he moved over to the console and read the read-out. “The autopilot engaged somehow and took the strain off the ship. It’s a good thing too because all the force being applied to the ship when we entered Key Lourna could have torn us apart.”

  Visions of the Seratora erupting around her came to mind, but she fought it back.

  “Are we still being pursued?” she asked. The question felt heavy in the air around her.

  Brendle looked on the console and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I can’t imagine the Telran could make it through Key Lourna anyway.”

  “Where are we now?” Anki asked, the sound of relief in her voice was noticeable, even to her.

  He shrugged his shoulders before answering. His voice with a tinge of guilt said, “We’re in a dead sector. There’s no life supporting planetary bodies here. The ones that once existed were destroy by my people.”

  She held back the temptation to rest her hand on his shoulder, not because he didn’t need comforting, but because she knew he felt responsible in some way and the likelihood of his involvement scared her more than she wanted to admit. Anki wanted to say something, but her voice was caught in her throat.

  “I know you look at me like a monster, a killer. But that’s not who I want to be,” he said as he turned to face her. There was a single tear hugging each of his emerald eyes. She could tell it wasn’t from physical pain, but something personal, deep beneath his skin. “If I could take everything back, I would. I want to make a difference, to protect lives instead of destroying them. I think if nothing else, we can at least agree that we’re on the same side when it comes to that.”

  She watched him as his eyes lowered, the burden of what they had gone through finally finding a way to release itself in grief. “I can agree to that,” she said, barely louder than a whisper, when the console chimed with an incoming message. They turned to look at the monitor, Brendle wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.