But there was no need for courage, the invaders were close enough and soon she would have vengeance for her mentor. Soon they would know of Aris the Chosen One, whether they entered the territories or not, Aris would make sure they would be punished.
29
Admiral Chen of the People’s 10th Fleet
Station Pluto – Command Center
The distance from the patrol group limited station Pluto’s connection to the vessels. The ability to share the distance between them through networking their sensory instruments, gave them a simple window into what was happening on each end.
The five Viper class vessels were denoted by five embers floating in front of a horizontal sea of black at Station Pluto. Their formation was meaningless in the vastness of their position. Admiral Chen knew the Fighting Wing formation was sound. It gave the commanding vessel excellent protection and offered the other boats clear lines of fire, but still kept them close enough to protect one other.
But what good are five vessels in a sea of potential chaos? he thought as he continued to scour the data with his officers, using every piece of Station Pluto’s scanning and sensory equipment. At the end of the day, the Anam Cara data banks and video feeds were the only evidence he had of the encounter, except for the remains scraped off and out of Captain Falco’s ancient boat.
A newer vessel could have linked their sensors, given us something more than data feeds he pondered, but the Anam Cara was old and outdated. “Iron, windows, and rail-guns,” he spat.
“Admiral?” the senior officer enquired.
“Nothing.” Admiral Chen felt tired, old and impatient.
He looked to his officers sitting around a large table in Station Pluto’s Command Center known as the Pluto Room. It was little more than a lecture hall with all the latest gadgets and equipment. “Get me a feed to Director Lipinski,” he ordered.
“Feed is live, Admiral.” The young lieutenant watched the hologram centered in the table quickly turn from a blurred, sparkling mass to a clear image of an oblivious Director Lipinski siting behind his desk.
Admiral Chen glanced at his young tech officer, and cleared his throat.
“Sorry, Admiral, there is a slight delay with the system.”
Two beeps sounded and a flustered Lipinski sat upright, perfect posture, his hands continuing their delicate play over his data-pad. The director visibly gathered himself, slowly turned and looked at the officers, the large pores of his face clearly visible in their hologram feed. Chen moved back from the aberration and waved a hand.
His tech officer quickly reduced the magnification of the hologram feed.
Now comfortable, Admiral Chen moved toward the floating image. “Director Lipinski, when is that report on the remains going to be complete?”
“Give me a moment, Admiral, while I contact the lab.”
Chen and his officers exchanged uncomfortable glances. The director tapped a key and another to mute his audio feed. Moments later after a few dramatic nods and chin strokes, Lipinski turned the audio on, exhaled sharply.
“Within the hour, Admiral Chen, we will have a full report on the ‘materials’ gathered from the Anam Cara.”
Chen nodded. “You have one hour, Director.”
The command center had all the latest technologies in visual, audio and data equipment, not to mention the ability to feed or upload anything from Station Pluto or even surrounding vessels to its centralized mainframe.
“I want a hologram display of all data feeds from Captain Fei’s Battle group and remove this monitor.” Chen felt uneasy. The five embers faded on the small screen and it descended into the table and disappeared.
The tech officer continued to work the data-pad that slid out from under the side table in the center of the room. A bright light flashed from the center of the top, casting its glare on the vaulted ceiling above. A few moments later, the officer smiled and hit a key with the look of a job well done. The area between Station Pluto and the black field hung over the entire table.
Admiral Chen rose from his executive chair and walked around the floating image, pausing and moving his head from side to side as if trying to find something. Finally, he stopped. “Where is my battle group? This is nothing but a hologram of open space and the black field? Where are my Vipers?”
The lieutenant’s look of confidence eroded with the harsh tone exuded from his superior. He slid the data-pad out again from under the table and adjusted the hologram. The light streaming from the center of the table flickered and the holographic image filled the room. Half the room was open space and the other was filled by pitch black.
It looked like someone had pulled a black curtain down the middle of the command center. Chen and his officers moved to open space where they could see.
“Sir, I have maxed out the hologram display while still keeping the image to scale.” The lieutenant continued working the data-pad, from the visible side of the room.
Chen walked from one end of the room to the other, dragging his hand across the smoky display. His officers watched in eerie silence as parts of the admiral’s body evaporated behind the dark field.
“Where is my battle group? This hologram is showing us nothing!” Chen barked at his officer who was still frantically working the data-pad on a system he had little experience running.
“Sir, I am almost finished.” Seconds later, he popped up out of his chair as the admiral was preparing to launch a new verbal assault. His quick movement immediately silenced Chen who was now curiously watching the man moving away from the other officers and followed the dark curtain cutting through the middle of the room.
“Here.” The tech officer stopped and pointed at a spot of nothingness a few centimeters in front of the black field.
Chen’s patience was at an end. He stormed towards his pointing officer and was a few paces away when the man held up his hand.
“Please, Admiral, just a moment. Lights OFF,” he stated. A field of stars appeared over half the table while the Pluto Room lights faded. In front of where the lieutenant’s finger was pointing were five pin pricks of red light, barely visible, seeming to come and go.
“Here, Admiral. The People’s Navy, your Viper class battle group in the Fighting Wing formation.”
The sheer vastness of the dark field was mind bending. Admiral Chen focused on his vessels’ formation, still unsure if the five pinpricks of light were even real. The second he took his eyes off them, they were almost impossible to find again. “The feed from the battle group does not seem correct. The field’s scale is different. I want Captain Falco and his officers here, now. Lights ON.” Chen felt an ocean of panic sloshing in his bowels.
Something stirred deep in the admiral’s core. He felt hunted. A predator just knocked off the top of the food chain by something more fierce, cunning and ruthless. “Lieutenant. Upload the hologram from the Anam Cara during the attack. Captain Falco created a scale hologram of this field from approximately the same coordinates.” Chen’s voice was layered with intensity and dread.
“Overlay Falco’s hologram against our current image, same scale and orientation.” Admiral Chen’s breath came fast and sharp.
“Admiral, I have the Anam Cara data uploaded. Image should project,” the officer paused and tapped a final key, “now.”
A second light burned from the center of the table and a new hologram spread across the Pluto Room, its shape blanketing the battle groups current hologram as it unrolled towards the ends of the room. Then it stopped, half a meter short of the current image.
The officers began to understand the implications and Admiral Chen snapped into action.
“The field is growing. Get Captain Fei on an open link. Where the hell is Captain Falco?” Control fought its way back into Chen’s voice not a second too soon.
30
Viper Battle Group
Captain Fei
“Yes, Admiral. One moment, the commanders are checking in as we speak.” Captain Fei looked towards h
is COMs officer who was already opening a channel to the other vessels. Fei waited for the other four commanders of his battle group to chime in on the open-COM.
After hearing the fourth ‘all clear,’ Captain Fei in the rear, center position stated, “All clear. Keep your sensors on full spread and report anything immediately. I will keep the Battle-Net linked. Fei out.” Fei closed the line.
“All is clear, Admiral Chen. We have no signs of hostiles. However, we can confirm that the black field has moved towards our position.”
Fei scanned the data and changed a single word.
“More accurately, Admiral, the mass has ‘jumped’ in our direction, narrowing the gap of open space to a few thousand meters.” The captain added, “Admiral, our sensors gave no warning of the field’s movement, but now show it is indeed closer to our formation.”
Another pause from Chen.
“What are your orders, Admiral?” Fei stated, doing his best to temper his growing unease with his battle group’s position.
“Hold your position and continue to scan for threats and monitor your distance from the field, Captain. Captain Falco and his officers are on their way to our command center.” Admiral Chen swore under his breath, “What is the time lag between your visual feed in real time and the feed we are receiving here at Station Pluto?”
“Seconds, barely discernible, Admiral. We are currently twenty-three point five hours from Station Pluto at maximum burn, which leaves us on fumes into the hangar,” Fei stated. This time Captain Fei did not wait for the pause, “I request the battle group falls back ten kilometers, Admiral.”
“Denied. Hold your position and continue to monitor the situation.” Admiral Chen was gone.
Fei sat stoically, thinking through his battle group’s position, weighing the order he had just received, an order that for the first time in his distinguished career, he could not follow. He had been in worse situations during the Korean Empire conflict, surrounded in the Sea of Japan with missile damage that would have sunk most boats… and yet, he felt this was a thousand times worse.
He hammered a fist into his armrest. Every officer on the bridge of the Kwan Yin was now locked onto Captain Fei. He straitened his uniform, took a chest expanding breath and released it with slow precision.
“Commander, bow thrusters, low burn. Move the formation back ten klicks. Get us beyond the field’s next potential advance.”
His order was patched through the Battle-Link and the fighting wing formation began to push away from the dark field at a barely detectable pace.
“Battle group, open-COM.” Fei felt the beginnings of adrenaline being pushed through his body.
“COM is open, sir,” stated his lieutenant with added volume.
So the officers feel it too, he thought.
“Commanders, this is Captain Fei. We will continue our push away from the field and remain in the Fighting Wing formation.” Fei scanned his armament inventory again.
“Our linked Battle-Net will adjust sensory settings on missile launchers according to the size and speed of any incoming hostiles.” Fei could hear his commanders’ breathing patterns change. “Precautionary measures. Prepare yourselves and your crews for potential, hostile contact. For the People’s Republic.” Fei closed the open-COM.
You’re coming, Fei thought. Admiral Chen had been the first to see the advance or leap of the dark field. Its movement was precise, with purpose. The joined sensors of the battle group gave no warning of the advance, yet they showed the field closer after being alerted by the admiral. Latest generation sensors or not, we are blind to all that moves behind its wall.
“Captain!” The officer waited as the Battle-Net churned through incoming data, his screen filled with rolling text and numbers.
Fei sensed the heightened awareness as every crewman on five Viper class patrol boats waited for the massive wall that loomed in front of them, to erupt, spewing potential chaos at their vessels.
“Report.” Fei heard his voice, yet it sounded foreign to his ears.
“Captain, the wall is folding! The area in front of us remains, but the rest is rushing forward.” The officer continued to read his monitor.
“Hologram!” Fei wanted a visual, everything still looked unchanged on every camera view. “I need a scaled image now.”
“Hologram up.” The young officer’s voice cracked. “Scale at .000015 percent.”
The image floated over Captain Fei’s station on the bridge. Fei spun and rose from his chair and faced the hologram. And we sit at the gate, he thought. The field was far greater than the sensors’ range.
“It’s gaining speed, Captain. The center of the dark field in front of us remains. The rest of the wall’s movement is escalating.”
“Battle stations…” the sailors’ calm had taken over. The beginning is drenched with fear and then it passes and the storm begins. Fei knew this from experience. There was no reason to run, nowhere to go. The speed of the dark field’s movement meant only one thing.
“Pilot, bow thruster burst, ten second intervals.” They could not outrun from the speeding blackness, but at least they could try and place a bit of distance between them. It left an exit; maybe it would like us to leave.
“Fighting Wing formation is moving away from the mass, sir.” The pilot fought to keep his words intact and the fear from his tone.
“Commander, lock Battle-Net control to the Kwan Yin. Pilot, five second bow bursts.” Fei waited.
Not one turn of head or even a sideways glance. He waited to see if the COM would light up with panicked commanders from the other Vipers but the panel remained dark, they were ready. Fighters, each and every one of them; locking the Battle-Net link could only be done by a captain or admiral in charge of a fleet or battle group.
Once locked, all vessels were under the control of the command ship. The People’s Navy had learned that battles were won and lost based on the courage to stay in position, when fear took hold and death was a certainty. It was also why the United Nations Navy and the Peoples Navy were almost one and the same. Almost.
The hologram hung in the middle of the bridge, a thick, long rectangle of universal mass with a perfectly round, infinitesimal bite taken out of the edge. Sitting in the center of the crescent sat their Viper class battle group.
Five predatory, missile-laden boats alone and a day’s burn from Station Pluto.
Darkness - expansion
Aris the Chosen One
Rotating slowly in the Darkness, Aris the Chosen One fully extended her fins in all directions. The Darkness was intoxicating as it flooded over her carapace, stirring arousal within her most protected organs that leached the fluid throughout her systems and brought the fire of the warrior’s rage.
A voice pushed into her personal thought-stream. Coming and going, fading in and out. First it felt like the Creators… no Aris thought, knowing it was something else. ‘It’ was uploading data into her systems and probing her carapace with infinite appendages of energy searching for… and then the voice fell silent, the energy gone.
Aris was different, her sensory organs heightened and more powerful. Though still blind in the mass of the Darkness, shades of black, swirls and shadows appeared. The new upload contained information regarding the warrior's rage. It had a purpose. Fashioned to govern the weaker masses of the clans. Those who could not control or at least channel the rage became slaves to its fury-induced euphoria. The Warruq longed for the warrior’s rage to return the moment the drip ceased and they returned to waiting to defend the Creators worlds. Lingering in a single spot in the void for millions to billions of cycles.
The Darkness was more than camouflage or ‘a cowardice mist to hide in,’ as the Warruq clans called it. The Darkness was a destroyer and a healer. It provided methane for their propulsion and respiration, and was the reason the clans needed to be near it or near one of its massive travelers that lurked deep within its mass. Aris knew she was a vast living organism, the Darkness forever evolving to
protect and control those who swam within her form.
It was the Darkness who pushed into her systems and uploaded the meaning of the warrior’s rage and its use by the Creators. Created to control all the Warruq clans and enhance the intellect of the Prox. But those few who could harness the rage were given title and power. They became Aris the Chosen One and LOR, until they too succumbed to its poison.
For the Prox the warrior’s rage heightened their intellect, for the Warruq it brought bravery that bordered on insanity. For the mighty Krell… Aris was not sure as they hid near the Creators’ planets, elusive to all but the Creators themselves. But the legend of the Krell were built on the nightmares of stories past when the worlds were few and many of the clans had not come into existence.
Aris the Chosen one, they are moving away from the Darkness. LOR had opened a thought-stream.
The invaders have joined as one. They choose to retreat and may even sense that we are here. She paused. Their weakness is their lack of numbers, but our Creators have left them a path to peace and they have taken it.
LOR’s voice thundered over the thought-stream. We cannot let them run! Revenge for our fallen is all that is left! They have become one, let my clans destroy the intruders so we may travel to the Realm of Warriors! The warrior’s rage was taking control of LOR.
Aris would soon lose control over her second-in-command. LOR was giving in to the bloodlust coursing through his systems. A skirmish would keep LOR and the Warruq under control and was a small price to keep order. But to go against the Creators could mean Aris’s end. She kept her thoughts safeguarded in her private thought-stream. An opportunity.
Let it begin, LOR. They are pushing flame and heat from their vessels. A weak attempt to attack the Darkness. The Territories must be protected. She pushed his orders and LOR swam through the shadows, heading towards the hidden clans floating near the Veil.
Darkness: Book One of the Oortian Wars Page 15
