Darkness: Book One of the Oortian Wars

by Iain Richmond

  “This is Commander Atagan, the Shangti is heavily damaged, but she can fight, and she can move.”

  “Lieutenant Uushin, the Nuwa has functioning bow thrusters, some weapons systems online, life support thirty percent.”

  Falco waited for the last cruiser to report, the P’an Ku floated in the middle of the Fleet’s wreckage, hundreds of circular holes filled with repair epoxy covered her hull. She was the furthest away, on the edge of their limited range.

  “P’an Ku, report!”

  Seconds passed before a young voice whispered over the COM, cutting in and out.

  “This… Ensign Bayud,” her voice barely audible, words chopped, a strange sound like shoes on a sticky floor filled the background and faded, “… am the hi…est ranking off… left.” Ensign Bayud fell silent.

  Falco could hear her touching the personal COM in her ear.

  “… everywhere,” Bayud whispered, “Moving… human-squids, … searching…”

  Falco’s stomach dropped, bile working its way to his mouth. He was the highest-ranking officer left and he knew what had to be done. “Can you reach a Command Unit?” Falco was whispering now.

  “Yes, I… the stern unit.” Her voice quivering. “They’ve left… area… They… all dea—”

  The connection was getting worse, could drop permanently any second, it was now or never, Falco thought. “Ensign, get to the Command Unit and enter my code.”

  Heavy, wet breathing puffed over her COM, “I… here, hurry…”

  “ZULU, ALFA, ROMEO, DELTA, ZERO, ZERO, TANGO, SEVEN.” Falco dry heaved, tapped his COM to mute it, turned and vomited onto the deck. Composed himself and tapped the COM again hoping Bayud could hear him. “ZULU, ALFA, ROMEO, DELTA, ZERO, ZERO, TANGO, SEVEN…” he repeated.

  “Ensign? Bayud can you hear me. What is happening?”

  A sickening splash filled the COM. Shrieks sounded, faded, screeched over the COM again. In the background a countdown had started, the connection was gone.

  “Shangti starboard flank, Nuwa port flank! With haste, stay close and keep pace with the station or we lose inter-ship COMS!” Falco switched his COM to his officer line. “Chief Tenzin, new Command Center, Observation Deck.”

  A light burned across the small holo-feed. The cruiser P’an Ku erupted in a blue ball of flame reaching out towards the living then fading when the fire consumed the last of the vessel’s oxygen.

  In the distance, between the small, dissolving Oortian cloud and the massive backdrop of the black wall that hid the Oortian fleet, a red creature floated in front of a small Oortian force, her ivory tusks in full display.

  She was smiling.

  87

  Tzara – the Darkness

  Far Boundary

  Something was wrong, Tzara could feel its weight pressing on her carapace and filling her lair. A fraction of a cycle ago, a Seeker entered the Darkness, uploaded its report and returned to the Void.

  Kalis and the clans destroyed all but three of the invader’s powerful vessels. Thousands of her warriors died and Tzara would have offered thousands more to defeat the enemy. Soon the skirmish would be finished and the real mission completed. The Movoo would bring the thirteenth into the Darkness for cleansing and the beginning of its evolution to carry the newest clan.

  A soothing hum filled her private thought-stream. The Darkness was here, searching her thoughts and systems for the slightest betrayal. Tzara was in tune with the violation after millions of cycles of its elusive intrusions. The Darkness’ entry always began with a foreign thought dropped into her processors. A thought she knew was not her own.

  But did the Darkness know Tzara could sense its presence? Yes, that was the real question. She waited for the feeling of violation to ebb into an echo of thought and finally, the Darkness shared a thought-stream with her.

  The Dakkadians have returned to the far boundary. With each passing cycle they fortify their positions in our territory left vulnerable after the ‘shift.’ Energy shot through Tzara’s systems causing her carapace to close into a crushing ball, each plate compressing her organs.

  The ‘shift’ you made happen has left the clans’ furthest territory defenseless, the Darkness chided.

  Tzara knew to say nothing, to hide her thoughts as best she could and wait for the rest, if her carapace did not kill her first.

  You must go to Kalis, deliver my command to her personally and without question.

  The energy faded, her carapace released, liquid and waste poured from its end and pooled on the stone slab of her lair. Tzara straightened the best she could, floating alone in the main chamber. The presence of the Darkness hung like thick vapor, sticky and moist.

  I will venture into the Void and deliver your message.

  The encrypted upload was quickly stored into Tzara’s memory and the shared thought-stream closed. The Darkness was gone, her thoughts again her own. The feeling of something being wrong and out of place was no longer present. Instead, an overwhelming sense of dread was close to incapacitating her. The message to Kalis would soon decide Tzara’s fate the moment she delivered it. The ancient harbinger of destruction, the fallen Creator would destroy Tzara in the Void or send her back into the Darkness.

  The journey would be quick. As soon as Tzara left her shielded lair and broke from her planet’s atmosphere, the Darkness would carry her to the Void where an armed escort waited.

  88

  Captain Falco – Battle Station Pluto

  to Run or Stand

  Captain Falco sprinted through Battle Station Pluto. His personal COM remained silent after each attempt to contact Ensign Holts. Chief Tenzin worked quickly setting up the mobile command center on the upper observation deck. There they still had a functioning rail gun mounted and a bird’s eye view of the Oortians and the two damaged cruisers. The station and vessels scanners were completely destroyed along with their nav-systems and long-range COMs.

  “Chief, you let me know the second they show any sign of movement!” He slowed, slid, pushed off the bulkhead and was sprinting again.

  “Yes, Captain. Oortians haven’t moved. Ops center is good to go. Holo-feed, back-up COM and Battle-Net control functional. Lieutenant Wallace has the Anam Cara in position and ready as back-up.”

  Chief Tenzin was unflappable, Falco thought. If we stick close together our ship-to-ship systems should still work. Falco tried Holts again as he reached the maintenance corridor. The hallway between the Battle-Cubes and the interior of the station were held together with repair epoxy. The entire section could be ripped into the vacuum of space at any moment. Med techs carried the wounded toward the main hatch that led to the interior of the space station where a triage was feeding them into a makeshift hospital.

  A bloodied and familiar face carried two wounded marines, one over each shoulder. “Commander?”

  Shar’ran stopped and turned. “I’m good, sir. Just a few scratches, few broken ribs.” He looked at Falco’s arm. “That looks bad.”

  “It was. Thank god for these med-suits, I think. Where’s Ensign Holts?” Falco’s voice cracked and he didn’t care.

  “She’s fine. Lost her COM and sustained a concussion, but she’s good, took out a dozen Oortians on her own.” Commander Shar’ran pointed further down the corridor. “Gathering and distributing weapons to those left.”

  Falco was already running towards Holts. “Get to the upper observation deck ASAP, Commander!” he shouted over his shoulder. A poised Ensign Holts eventually came into view, her head wrapped in bandages, blood soaking through and highlighting the dragon tattoos in a red hue through the once white fabric. She handed a shotgun to a lone marine and turned toward Falco.

  He slid and stopped inches from her face, stood silent panting, simply nodding while locked into her eyes.

  “Looks worse than it is, Captain.” Her eyes grew shiny. “At least, I hope it does.”

  Falco swallowed hard, desperately wanting to put his arms around her.

  “Captain, yo
u need to see this.” Chief Tenzin’s voice sounded in Falco’s COM. “Sir, we have a situation.”

  “Oortians in pursuit?” Falco’s pulse pounded in his ears.

  “No, Captain. The small force is holding their current position, but another group has exited the main field.”

  “I’m on my way. Falco out.” He looked to Holts and the lone marine standing behind her. “Where are the rest?”

  “Injured or dead, Captain.” Holts raised her head. “We have seven that can fight, eleven injured and being attended to plus a skeleton crew aboard the Anam Cara.” Holts pulled at the collar of her uniform, exposing the med-suit below. “Everyone left was wearing one.”

  “You’re in charge of the wounded.” Falco adjusted his shotgun on his right shoulder, removed one of his two ammo belts and handed it to Holts. “You’re a hell of a lot better with these than I am. Make sure you get a new personal COM, local channel is all we have left and begin moving the wounded once they’re stable to the private bay for evac.” He looked to the young marine. “You’re with the ensign.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Holts was on the move, the young marine catching up.

  Falco quickly reached the elevator and punched the button for the upper observation deck.

  Falco moved to the makeshift command center where the holo-feed showed a small stationary Oortian force led by Yama. Another group was quickly moving toward them from the Oortian field. Shar’ran and Chief Tenzin turned.

  “Situation, Commander?” Falco stopped at the floating image.

  “Battle Station Pluto has one functioning thruster. Cruisers aren’t much better and we are putting a few hundred klicks between us and the Oortians.” Shar’ran pointed toward the two Oortian groups that now faced each other and tapped the holo-feed controls. The hologram zoomed in until a grainy view of the Oortians filled the air.

  “How is this image possible?” Falco leaned toward the hologram. “They are teeth,” he whispered. The giant red Oortian, Yama moved its mouth…

  “We’re running the onboard telescope to the holo-feed,” Chief Tenzin stated and smiled. “It’s like looking through a sandstorm with binoculars, but we have visual for now.”

  “My god, those four,” Falco pointed to the Oortians moving to meet the three coming from the black field, “they look like armored whales.”

  “It’s those dark orbs behind the Yama that are of concern.” Shar’ran zoomed the holo-feed in closer, two glistening spheres came into grainy-focus. “These are similar to the Oortian vessels that released the Hull Pounders that decimated the Fleet and Station Pluto.”

  Chief Tenzin, raised his hand.

  “What is it, Chief?” Falco turned from the hanging image.

  “Before the COM-Sat was destroyed, we received a data packet from Pluto’s Tombaugh Probe, and yes, I had no idea that ancient spacecraft was still working either. Something triggered it.” Tenzin moved to the holo-feed, raised his data-pad and tapped on the screen until the holo-feed changed.

  Falco locked onto the new image. “What the—”

  “Eight substantial heat readings around Pluto,” Tenzin stated.

  “What the hell are the Oortians doing?” Falco pushed his face closer to the floating scene. “If this is a data-packet, magnify, full definition.

  “Their positioning?” Falco felt the image grow menacing. “Mining, could they be mining or extracting?”

  Tenzin leaned in, studying the eight giant spheres’ placement. “Look at these threads that connect them.” He traced the thin lines. “Each of the eight Oortian vessels must be at least ten times the size of Station Pluto.” Chief Tenzin fell silent.

  Commander Shar’ran, knelt down, face even with the holo-feed. “The eight are placed on one side of Pluto. The Oortians are between Pluto and their dark field.” Shar’ran slid around the holo-feed. “The ‘threads’ that anchor them to the planet’s surface,” he pointed to the ‘faint line’ and then to the moon-sized spheres, “in relation to the Oortians… are over one hundred meters thick and hundreds of kilometers long?” He looked to Chief Tenzin and Captain Falco. “At least that’s my best estimate.”

  A red light flashed at the base of the holo-feed projector.

  “Something’s moving.” Tenzin tapped the controls and the two Oortian groups appeared again. The red leader and one of the newcomers were so close together, the telescope feed could not distinguish them. They looked like a thick pillar of red and black.

  “Chief,” Falco pointed a hundred feet above them to where the rail gun was mounted, “suit up and keep your sights on the Oortian group.”

  “Sir!” Tenzin placed the data-pad at the base of the holo-feed and was on his way.

  “And Chief,” Falco called after him, “full life-support pack too!”

  “Yes, Captain!” he hollered.

  Commander Shar’ran was still on his knees. He seemed to be staring through the holo-feed.

  “What is it, Commander?” Falco asked.

  “It’s the size of the Oortian vessels, Captain. There is no reason for mining vessels to be this size, just doesn’t make sense. All civilizations eventually follow the scale of efficiency in resource allocation.”

  “Took us thousands of years to understand less is more?” Falco stated.

  “Yes, but an older civilization? A more advanced one. One that could create or utilize a camouflaging field that could potentially hide an entire planetary system?” Shar’ran turned to Falco.

  “Let’s hear it, Commander.”

  Shar’ran stood, hand on his chin still looking at the eight moon-sized objects tethered to Pluto. “Do you remember when the UNN Titan was dead in the water and needed to be towed to port?”

  “2206 and I was stationed off the Yemen coast, as you know. Biggest aircraft carrier in history had a bad starter.” Falco raised an eyebrow.

  “Well I was there too and they towed that 400-meter-long ship with a stout tug from the US Army using a single thirty-centimeter-thick aircraft cable.” Shar’ran pointed to the eight Oortian vessels, one at a time. “Those are the biggest tugs I’ve ever seen and they’re pulling toward the Oortian field.”

  89

  Tzara and Kalis

  the Void

  Tzara ignited her energy bloom and left the protective Darkness for the cold Void. The two Prox escorting her were the largest she had ever encountered. Each plated carapace pressed into hers from both sides.

  Tzara was the Creator of the Prox, their goddess, their leader and yet she had never seen this clan. These Prox abominations were crafted by the Darkness, spawned deep within her mass, in one of the realms hidden from all the clans.

  Kalis came into view, her red plated carapace reflected the dying light from the invader’s once powerful fleet. Two Krell hovered around her, but they too were different. The Darkness has been busy, Tzara thought again. These Krell were filled with Seekers, filled with the fledgling Prox, another abomination. More fodder for the Darkness to expend without mercy or care.

  The only blessing of the Void was not hearing the thought-streams of all the clans. Within the mass of the Darkness, all could speak, all could connect. Out in the Void only those in the open could use the thought-stream. The Darkness could not enter her systems, Tzara was free to think without fear.

  Shattered warriors of the Clans floated like a sea of carnage. Pieces from the invader’s vessels mixed with alien forms bounced off of dead Seekers and the occasional Warruq carapace. The remnants and reminders of what Kalis was, a destructive force that destroyed everything in her path.

  Tzara’s escorts moved further away and she stopped in front of Kalis. The two Krell moved back and joined the Prox. Cycles passed and Kalis’s ocular sensors remained closed, the protective spikes around her skull-plate protruded further and were whiter than Tzara remembered. Her red carapace glistened with an oily slick that was dotted with strange white bulging lumps. Probably the gore from the dying invader vessels Kalis speared, again and again during the
battle.

  A thought-stream opened between them and the red membranes covering Kalis’s sensors slid open. Fear rushed through Tzara’s systems. Kalis lowered her carapace until her skull-plate was level with Tzara. The two touched and Tzara sensed the rush of her memory being accessed, downloaded – now she would find what the Darkness had in store for her.

  Kalis opened her mouth wide, the white spikes continued to reveal themselves in row after spiraling row. The Prox escort moved in and held Tzara tight. A voice boomed over the thought-stream.

  Go to your Realm of Warriors, screamed Kalis.

  A Seeker blasted out of the Darkness and into the Void. Another thought-stream opened, smothering the stream between them. Kalis’s mouth had already engulfed Tzara’s skull-plate.

  Kalis stopped, crunched down on Tzara’s carapace and released her, severely injured but alive. The Seeker continued to fill the thought-stream with visions and data from the Creator’s. The Oortians furthest territory, the Far Boundary was under siege.

  The Darkness must Shift back to repel the Dakkadian incursion and retake the lost zone. Leave the Invaders to flee back to where they came from, stinking of fear and weakness. We will deal with them later.

  The thought-stream closed and the Seeker returned to the Darkness.

  The two Prox were already towing Tzara toward the Veil of the Darkness. Kalis and the Krell remained. She turned toward the massive fleeing vessel that was now distant, wounded and dying with its two small battered guardians sputtering behind it, trying to keep up.

  The warrior’s rage raged through Kalis and she allowed all her sensors and systems to take in its wrath. The Krell pulsed from mottled black to deep blue, a small orange glow appeared in the center of each of them, casting a luminous glow of the Seekers carried within.

  To the Realm of Warriors we journey. Kalis and the Krell ignited their energy blooms, launching forward, tearing through the Void and towards the fleeing invaders.