Cindy walks up to Waazh and holds her hand out. The alien stares at her hand, but does not take it.
“This is the way friends great each other in my culture.” Cindy states, with her hand still held out.
Waazh holds his hand out in front of him and says, “I greet you then, as a friend.”
Cindy steps closer, clasps his large three fingered hand and shakes it up and down. Waazh stares at her, perplexed, then says, “Different, indeed.”
John grins at the scene, then states, “Waazh, we have six shuttles on standby, to bring your people here.”
“Let us waste no more time then.” Waazh replies.
The group returns to the hangar deck, where Radclyf, Hayato, and four other shuttle pilots, are waiting. Each shuttle has seating for twenty in the rear compartment, but with the Gamin being larger, and their expected belongings, it will take many trips to gather everyone.
John leads the other shuttles to the underground. Though the cavern is large, it takes a little maneuvering for all six shuttles to be able to land safely.
Waazh strides down the ramp, lifts his hand, forms a fist then says, “Bring all weapons to me, I have accepted this leader’s offer of sanctuary.” He motions to Cindy and waits.
Twenty-six rifle carrying Gamin slowly make their way to Waazh. Each of them hands over their weapon, some with obvious reluctance, but they comply.
Radclyf and Hayato are both relieved, but remain attentive. Their shuttles have locked cockpit doors, and like all the shuttles except Cindy’s, have a heavily armed guard riding shotgun.
Waazh turns to Cindy and says, “Come, meet my people.”
Cindy’s tour of the underground cavern is mercifully short, and fills her with sadness. The power unit that supplies the Gamin’s needs is almost depleted, and as the stale air indicates, the filtration systems have been failing for a long time. There is little else to salvage, other than fifteen Gamin sized bodysuits, all of which are unpowered. Each of these suits has a pair of five pronged packs attached, indicating that they are construction suits, and not combat suits.
The small transmitter used by the Gamin is transported to the Terran, and stored in the hangar deck alongside the bodysuits.
By the end of the day all of the Gamin have all been relocated, including their eggs. Waazh tests Cindy’s promise, and much to the annoyance of his armed escort, treks all over the ship. Those eating in the mess hall are stunned when the Gamin strides into the room. Though the entire crew had been informed of the rescue of the aliens, seeing one up close is quite intimidating to some.
Cindy turns her head and grins as Waazh makes his expected appearance on the bridge. She motions to the right hand side and says, “You may sit over there if you wish.”
The pair of guards who accompany the Gamin stand nearby, ready to respond at a moment’s notice.
Location:
Hawking
New Earth
Barbara, along with General Walker and around twenty other people, is seated in Hawking’s main conference building. The excitement level in the room is extremely high. The entire colony has been following the study of the alien spacecraft, and its deceased occupant with interest.
Barbara stands, then ruffles her papers while she gathers her thoughts. She lifts her gaze and says, “First, thank you all for coming.” She takes a deep breath, and then begins, “Now as you know, we have had teams working on deciphering the alien language, along with learning all we can about the craft.” She motions a hand to General Walker and adds, “As you know, the craft was lifted from Lake Mystery, and has since been moved to a safe location.”
The General tilts his head slightly, but remains quiet. Others around the room are already getting restless. Many have heard rumors about today’s presentation, and are impatient to learn the truth.
Barbara smiles as she continues, “The Liberty’s computer has been invaluable in deciphering the alien language, and accessing the craft’s computer systems.” She glances around the room at the fidgeting people, then back to the many pages of notes before her. With a sigh, she says, “Okay, I know you’re all anxious to find out what we’ve discovered so far, so here it is.”
Barbara nods to a pair of assistants, and then sits down. They close the room’s curtains, and then turn on a projector. An image of Barbara standing before the small alien spacecraft appears on the screen. “This vessel is a scout ship which belongs to a race who call themselves, Picaroon. We do not know if other scout craft exist, or exactly where this one originated from. Initial information indicates that this ship flew in from the very edge of our galaxy an unknown number of years ago, perhaps thousands of years. However, it has only been resting at the bottom of this lake for approximately one hundred years. Where it has been in the meantime is still a mystery. Sadly, either due to the passing of time, or perhaps the pilot’s own efforts, most of the craft’s data files are damaged.”
Many in the room are stunned by the age of the craft, especially considering the excellent condition that it is in. A quiet uneasy murmuring fills the room.
The image on the screen changes to show Barbara standing before the emaciated, alien body. “This is a Picaroon. They are slightly taller and heavier than an average human male. The most striking features are their sharp canine teeth, six fingers and toes, and as we will see in a recovered log, their pink colored eyes.”
Even Barbara shifts impatiently as she waits for the next segment of the recording. Finally, the image changes to show a living alien. Many in the room gasp at the sight.
The Picaroon’s pale skin exaggerates its pink within pink eyes. The creatures breathing seems labored, and sweat drops from its large forehead. The alien runs his hands through his dark hair and then speaks in a deep, gravelly voice. “This will be my last log entry, as I doubt I have much time left. To my brethren, know this, I did not abandon my mission, Dagris failed us. There is no going back, all our efforts have been wasted. Joldar out.”
The recording then fades to a blank screen. While the aides open the curtains, Barbara continues talking, “We still have yet to determine what the reference to Dagris means, and to what efforts he is referring. What we do know, is that this alien, a male of its species, decided to live out the last of his days on this world. He made fishing line from his ship’s data cables, hunted animals, and built a crude shelter. It would also seem that he also ate an infected buffalo.”
General Walker chuckles as he says, “Damn, all that technology, and this alien was no smarter than us!”
Many of the people in the room begin to laugh, if for no reason other than the irony of an advanced race falling for the same thing they did.
Barbara holds up a hand, and finishes the meeting, “We’re still attempting to discover where this mother ship is, and, we also hope to find out where this craft has been for all of these years.”
The volume in the room climbs as those present begin asking questions. Barbara does her best to answer them, but disappointingly, her response is more often than not, an exasperated. “We don’t know.”
Location:
Starship Terran
Twenty One Thousand Light Years from Earth
Lifeless Planet
Gamin Derelict
The days have turned into weeks, and still the Terran rests upon the ground of this distant and desolate planet. Mottled grey clouds of poisonous gasses swirl overhead, and continue to add to the bleak scenery. The heavily damaged Gamin ship resides nearby. The specialized tunnels that connect the two ships continues to allow people to move freely between the grounded spacecraft. Thousands of engineers work around the clock to remove as much technology as they can, with particular focus being on the weapons and the shield generators. The hangar deck slowly fills with items recovered from the derelict.
The rescued Gamin remain in their secure and isolated area, well away from any of the ship’s systems. Though Waazh freely moves around the ship, he does so under the constant scrutiny of dedicated securi
ty teams. Initially pleased with being rescued from their confines, knowing their ship is being dismantled is disparaging to the Gamin. Waazh’s visits to the bridge, and other areas of the ship, become less frequent. He remains with his people and tries to be patient as he waits for the day they leave.
BEEP
Cindy and Joe turn in unison at the noise, and stare blankly at the Navicon unit. Its small console flashes brightly for a few seconds, then stops. Before anyone can speak, a gravelly message sounds out from the speakers on the bridge. “Regent Voknor calling for clan assistance. We are under heavy attack and unable to disengage. All will be lost without immediate relief.”
The message repeats itself, while at the same time, a set of galactic co-ordinates appear on the console’s screen.
Joe gets to work figuring out where Regent Voknor’s fleet is. Seconds later, he reports, “Oh my. They are at the Kord space station; the one where Olaf’s body is. It’s where we dropped off Golward, along with the other Kord survivors.”
When no one responds, Joe glances back at Cindy, and unnecessarily adds, “You know, where our ship was repaired, and where we were given the advanced power module that got us home.”
Joe looks at the others on the bridge in anguish, “Without help from either the Regent, or the Kord, we would probably all be dead.”
Cindy nods in agreement as she casts her gaze across the entire bridge crew. She stops at George, and asks, “George, you know them better than any of us. What are your thoughts?”
George steps from his suit, and with a heavy heart, says, “Despite our differences, Sharz and I became friends. When the terrorists destroyed the bridge to Manhattan Island, he brought a shuttle to us, and transported my family to safety. He helped us when he did not have to. We should return the favor.”
Joe nods in agreement as he adds his words, “If we don’t help our mates, what kind of people are we?”
Cindy considers their comments, and her options, for a few seconds. She comes to a decision, and with venom in her voice, she gives her orders, “John, get us off this planet as fast as you can. We will assist!”
John smiles widely as he responds, “Yes ma’am!”
Cindy taps her chair’s console, “We’re on our way, Regent.”
Regent Voknor’s reply is almost instantaneous, “No! Our entire fleet is being slaughtered. Two more clans are coming to assist. Besides, what can your one ship do? You will merely come to your deaths if you arrive before they do.”
Cindy looks at each of her bridge crew and gauges them before she says, “No matter the risk, we help our friends.”
Everyone on the bridge nods in agreement. Cindy smiles at their support, and then her expression hardens as she taps her chair’s console again. With conviction, she issues her orders, “All hands return to the Terran, this is not a drill. Emergency lift off in ten minutes. If you are not on board, you will be left behind!”
Joe turns to Cindy and simply says, “Wow.” He gulps as he knows she means it.
Cindy cringes as she asks, “Where is the Victory?”
It takes John and Joe precious minutes, but finally, Joe has the answer they all want to hear, “Victory is in range, and will rendezvous with us in orbit.”
Many of the men and women complain about the equipment they have to leave behind, and of the numerous components that they are close to removing from the derelict.
Fourteen minutes later, the last straggler staggers on board, exhausted from his sprint. Cindy has been anxiously monitoring this last man’s progress; a part of her was tempted to leave him, as she promised. Mere seconds after he stumbles up the ramp, the Terran lifts off, leaving behind a massive blast wave of dust in its wake. The engineers watch in horror as the access ways to the tunnels slide out of the hangar, and fall to the ground. Their frantic efforts to disconnect the power, complete mere seconds before they lift off.
John accelerates the ship to maximum thruster speed, while at the same time, he aligns their trajectory toward the source of the distress signal. Their assent is so swift that the landing struts are still retracting when the Victory enters the hangar deck.
Robyn taps her console with shaky fingers and says, “We’re on board.” Piloting the Victory into the Terran while it was moving has been an experience she does not want to repeat ever again.
John closes the Terran’s ramp and as soon as the ship clears the planet’s atmosphere, he activates the sub-light engines, and pushes them to maximum. Checking his console one more time, he then engages the main drive as soon as the system indicates it is safe to do so. Almost warily, John slides his finger along the screens graph, all the way to the eighth, and uppermost block.
Turning to Cindy, John’s tone is quite serious as he reports, “Factor seven point eight! I hope we make it in time; because even at this speed, we’re about forty minutes out.”
Cindy clenches her jaw and fists in anger, but does not reply. She knows that her crew is doing all they can. The Terran seems to throb as raw power is fed to the main engines at an astronomical rate. Deck plates vibrate throughout the entire ship, and the ship’s navigational shields glow spectacularly as particles strike them.
Joe stares at his laptop, its open screen shaking wildly. Concerned it will fall, he closes it.
Kitchen hands quickly secure pots and pans, while in hydroponics Emma shakes her head at the rattling water pipes, “Oh no. Not again,” she says to herself quietly.
Reactor control crewmen are alarmed as all twenty reactors go from idling, to one hundred percent in seconds, creating a cascade of alarms in the process. They stare at their controls, then heave a sigh of relief. A specialized breaker circuit prevents the Gamin systems from drawing more power than the reactors are designed to output. This circuit was designed by Joe, and installed by George earlier this week.
Joe monitors the ship’s power usage, and is surprised to see that the drain on the ship’s capacitors is lower than he expects. He turns to Cindy and reports, “We will arrive with approximately thirty percent remaining in our reserves.”
“Understood.” Cindy replies impassively.
Robert arrives on the bridge and frowns with confusion as he watches the tense bridge crew in action. He shakes his head slowly as he grasps where they are going. In a bewildered tone he asks, “Cindy, why are we rushing into danger to help the Gamin?”
Cindy sighs, turns her gaze to George, and then says, “Because we help our friends, and Sharz is in danger.”
Robert opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it. There is no arguing with Cindy when she has made up her mind, and he can see the entire bridge crew supports her actions.
Far away from the bridge, the rescued Gamin glance around nervously. With mounting fear, they turn to their leader for answers. Waazh feels a strange uneasiness as the metal beneath his feet shakes, similar to what they experienced in the tunnels during a ground tremor. He turns to his fellow Gamin and says, “I will get answers.”
Exiting the air lock, Waazh confronts the guards. Before he can speak one of them contacts the bridge and nervously relays his observations about the Gamin. He listens to Cindy’s instructions and then relaxes. He turns to Waazh and says, “You can come with me to the bridge, if you wish.”
Waazh bares his teeth as he replies, “I wish it!” A pair of guards silently escorts the Gamin leader to the bridge, where he is directed to a sit next to Robert. Waazh is becoming annoyed over his people being treated like criminals. He remains standing, stares at Cindy and bares his teeth while flexing the bone spikes in his forearms.
Cindy is unimpressed by his display. She tilts her head at Waazh and states with conviction, “You can either sit and watch, or return to your colleagues. The choice is yours.”
Waazh is about to reply, but then he notices how intense the bridge crew is. His curiosity outweighs his indignity, so after with one last scowl, he sits down. Robert offers him a smile and then adjusts his legs so as to not accidently bump the alien.
> Joe diligently seals off every section of the Terran that he can. He has no idea what is in store for them, but plans to be as prepared as possible.
A few minutes pass, then Cindy taps her chair’s armrest, activating the ship-wide communications. With a serious tone, she speaks, “Attention all crew. Prepare for combat.” She turns to Waazh and says, “Regent Voknor, the clan leader I spoke of when we first met, is under attack. We are proceeding to assist.”
Waazh stares back blankly. He has learned more of the Terran’s capabilities than he should have, and is suddenly concerned for all of them.
Chapter Eight - Into the Fray
Location:
Starship Terran
Kord Space Station
Forty-two minutes later, John disengages the main engines, instantly slowing the Terran to sub-light speeds, and into madness. The forward view is filled with spacecraft, both small and large. Thousands of small craft weave in and out of the dozens of Gamin ships.
Joe motions through the chaos to the colossal Kord space station, and states with a surprise-filled voice, “Look, it’s still there!” He taps on his console as fast as he can, reads the data displayed, then happily reports. “Regent Voknor’s flagship is on the far side.” Joe’s cheerfulness is short lived as he gloomily adds, “I am also detecting vast amounts of debris.”
Each of the debris fields is all that remains of a Gamin spacecraft. Occasional explosions resonate from the larger remnants which float in expanding islands of flotsam. Beyond the battle, a blue-green world completes the backdrop to the scene.
Cindy stares at the combat scene before her, and smiles devilishly, “Head for that ship.” She says, pointing at the screen.
Joe quickly identifies the target, and nods his head, “An Atlan carrier by the looks of it, just like the one we saw the last time we were in the neighborhood.”
Alliance (Terran Chronicles Book 4) Page 26
