by C H Gideon
In fact, several long tunnel-like appendages reached from the mountain to the new city rising in the ocean.
“I guess everyone’s getting along better now that Jaer Pon has been deposed,” Maddox commented. “I wonder how Shal Ura and Roe are doing?”
“Think they are still in charge?” Geroux asked.
“It was up to the people to decide but, if you ask me, I’d say they still are,” Asya remarked. “Those two were the best candidates.”
“Well, a lot can change quickly, as we’re noticing,” Reynolds warned. “But we’ll find out soon enough.”
“One of those underwater ferries is approaching,” XO reported. “I think you’ll have to take a shuttle out if you want to catch a ride, or I can seal off a small section of the hangar bay and pressurize it so they can come inside.”
“Scan that bubble first,” Reynolds told him.
“Hmm. It’s like a forcefield, but not really. It’s essentially a reinforced air bubble.”
“I thought that might be the case.” Reynolds laughed. “Hey, Takal, you think you’re ready to transport us to a moving vehicle if you have a clear view of the landing zone?”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Takal answered.
“Death, suffocation, crushed by the pressure of the ocean, eaten by sharks…” Tactical started.
“Rhetorical question, Tactical,” Takal told him. “I can certainly try, Reynolds.”
“Then plant us in the center of that bubble coming toward us,” Reynolds ordered.
“What the hell?” Jiya said. “You only live once, right?”
Fortunately, Takal waited until the crew was armored up and had their helmets on before transporting them across the distance between the ship and the underwater bubble Flor had sent for them. Reynolds, Geroux, Maddox, Ka’nak, and Jiya appeared dead center in it.
However, they were about an inch above the surface.
They gasped and fell the short distance to the floor with loud thumps.
“Off by a smidgen,” Reynolds reported once they’d touched down.
“No, you appeared exactly where I intended you to appear,” Takal came back smugly. “Would you rather I risk your toes ending up in the flooring?”
“I’ll pass on that,” Ka’nak muttered. “Thanks for not crippling my toes, Takal.”
“You’re welcome,” the old inventor replied, no hint of sarcasm in his voice.
The crew rode the bubble all the way to Ocelora, where it slipped inside one of the many docks set next to the city and docked.
As the water drained away, Reynolds spied Lek standing alongside Flor on the other side of the barrier that kept the ocean from spilling into Ocelora. They greeted them once the dock had drained and the crew stepped into the city proper.
Lek gave them all a powerful hug, moving through the crew one by one, and Flor smiled at them, prim and proper.
“Good to see you all,” Flor told them. “President Roe and Vice President Shal Ura are looking forward to seeing you again.”
“That answers that question, then,” Geroux said with a smile. “I love a happy ending.”
Flor and Lek led them through the city, showing it off as they did. The tour confirmed what the crew had seen from the bridge of the SD Reynolds.
The vast majority of the damage caused by the Orau bombardments had been fixed and cleaned up, making the city appear as though it were new.
Gone were the bombed-out sections of town, and in their place stood bright new homes and businesses that made the beautiful city even more appealing.
There was no mistaking that the Krokans had made the most of their time out from under the cruel thumb of the Orau and their shithead leader, Jaer Pon.
Reynolds was glad to see how things had progressed.
He’d been proud of their efforts, and while his mind was focused on Phraim-’Eh and how they would defeat the bastard, getting to see the successes were exhilarating.
It brought a clarity of purpose to his mission he believed Bethany Anne would appreciate.
They were leaving the universe a better place than when they’d found it.
He couldn’t hope for a better legacy.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
Leaving the universe a better place and blowing the fuck out of Phraim-’Eh and his minions would be a better legacy.
They arrived at the presidential palace a short while later, and Reynolds was glad to see that it looked the exact same as it had before.
The new rulers hadn’t spent a dime on the grand palace. Rather, they had focused all their effort on making the homes of the people better before turning their eyes inward.
Reynolds was proud of the young couple.
The crew was led inside, and Jiya thrilled to see the statues were still in place. They’d been shined a bit, cleaned up and dusted, and that only added to the impression they made, stoic and poised as the crew strode past.
This time around, the statues better resembled the actual people of Krokus 4, the war-weary countenances of the populace now more closely matching the prouder, stronger visages of the statues that lined corridors of the presidential compound.
Jiya ran her hand over the statues as they passed.
They were led into the throne room, and the first thing Reynolds noticed was that the dais had been removed, putting the leaders on the level of the populace they’d be meeting with.
Flor led them up the carpeted aisle to the far end of the room, where Shal Ura and Roe stood before their seats, awaiting the crew.
“Greetings!” Shal Ura called as they arrived, gesturing for the crew to sit down in the chairs that splayed out in front of the presidential seats.
Roe smiled at them, letting them take their seats before speaking.
Servants came over and offered drinks.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Reynolds told the pair, gesturing toward the missing dais.
“Seemed appropriate,” Shal Ura replied. “Especially after all we’ve been through.”
Lek chuckled behind them.
“How have you been?” Roe asked, meeting the eyes of each of the crew in turn.
The group chatted informally for several minutes, catching up on the time between visits until they’d exhausted all the small talk.
When a lull in the conversation appeared, Shal Ura turned to Reynolds. “I presume you saw the additions outside the city?”
“I did, indeed,” the AI replied. “Looks to me like you’ve tied your two societies together.”
“That’s precisely what we’ve done,” Shal Ura stated. “Now that the Orau threat is gone, we decided it would be best to reconcile with our brothers and sisters and connect our worlds, as they always should have been.”
“Seems you succeeded, if the grin on Lek’s face is any indication,” Jiya teased.
“It’s nice not having to sneak into Ocelora to visit family,” Lek told them. “Now I simply ride the tube over, and no one tries to shoot me. Well, no one but my ex-wife.” He laughed.
Reynolds grinned. “And how about the people on Krokus 1? How are they progressing?”
“We’re in regular contact with them, and they’re doing well. They’re prospering, at their own pace,” Roe explained with a grin. “Colonel Raf and his people helped them get situated and built them a better outpost to live in, and we send regular supplies to them to keep them healthy and fed. Beyond that, they are building their own lives out there, happy and content and free from the damaging influences of the Orau invaders.”
“That’s good to hear,” Reynolds replied.
“Speaking of damaging influences,” Shal Ura started, “Colonel Raf noted the condition of your craft. Is there anything we can do to help with repairs?”
“Appreciate that, but we mostly need a place to lay low while we repair it and make plans,” Reynolds explained. “We’ve stirred up some shit, and we need a few days to figure out our next move.”
“Then you h
ave it,” Roe assured them. “You’re welcome here for as long as you want to stay.”
“And if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask, Reynolds,” Shal Ura told the AI. “We’re in your debt.”
Reynolds shook his head. “Not at all, but we are grateful for the kindness. We’ll stay out of the way while we fix our ship and scheme,” the AI said with a laugh. “You won’t even know we’re here.”
“Absolutely unnecessary,” Roe replied. “We’re happy to have you, and we can entertain your crew while you work to repair your ship. We have plenty of room to transfer over as many of them as you want while you’re here.”
“That’s very generous of you,” the AI told her. “We’ll likely take you up on the offer. Most of the crew rarely get a chance to leave the ship since our stops are usually fairly short. They’d be delighted.”
“Then consider it done,” Shal Ura confirmed.
Reynolds nodded his thanks.
“It’s probably best we be off to get to work, but we’ll coordinate the transportation of our crew to the city at your convenience,” the AI told the pair. “And if you need anything, please, let us know. We’re happy to provide anything we can in return for your kindness.”
The presidents thanked them, and Reynolds and the crew returned to the Reynolds to prepare for their next encounter.
There was simply too much to do for the primary crew to lounge around now that they had Phraim-’Eh in their sights.
That evening, once all the arrangements between the ship and the Krokans had been finalized, Reynolds summoned his crew to a meeting room to discuss their plans.
Jiya strolled in first, along with Geroux and Asya. Takal joined them a short while later, setting a small computer down on the table in front of him. Ka’nak and Maddox dragged in last and plopped into seats.
Reynolds stood at the head of the table, looking at the crew as they settled in. Cups of Jiya’s favorite coffee littered the table.
The AI figured they might need the caffeine.
“Now that we’ve finally gotten the chance to sit down and discuss things, what do you think of our enemy?” Reynolds asked.
“Speaking for myself, he doesn’t look like any god I’ve ever imagined,” Jiya admitted. “Of course, him flying in with a fleet of thirteen ships didn’t exactly instill awe, either. What kind of god needs that many warships to make himself feel good?”
“He’s overcompensating for something if you ask me.” Asya chuckled.
“A small godhood?” Ka’nak asked, laughing.
“Kind of what I was thinking,” Reynolds told them. “He’s hiding behind a hell of a lot of firepower for a guy passing himself off as a deity.”
“That doesn’t make him any less dangerous, though,” Maddox said. “Thirteen are a lot of ships.”
“Only nine now,” Jiya corrected, “but I realize that doesn’t change much. It’s still a lot of ships to face off against.”
“Ships we can now track, and which remain in orbit around Hajh,” Takal grinned. “I’ve examined the tracer rounds, and while many of them were cleaned off or deactivated by the automatic repair systems of the Godhand, over thirty are still active.”
Takal opened his computer and turned it around so everyone could see it.
“I took a moment to better adapt the tracer rounds after our first failure at using them when I realized I could do more than simply trace them,” he said. “I implanted small scanners, which emit pulses too low and infrequent to be detected.”
“To what end?” Reynolds asked.
“They will give us snippets of intelligence regarding the fleet above and beyond their location,” Takal explained. “Because they are pulsed to avoid being found, the updates will not be in real time or even consistent, but it might provide us with information regarding their efforts and actions while we prepare to face them again.
“And since we used Gulg technology to craft them, they will continue to transmit their locations, no matter where in the universe the Godhand travels.”
“Speaking of the Gulg,” Reynolds interrupted. “Has Xyxl approached his people with our request yet?”
“He has, and they have agreed,” Takal answered.
“Excellent.” Reynolds rubbed his hands together diabolically. “And the coding?”
“We’ve had a breakthrough, but it’s premature to say the process is complete,” the inventor went on. “Geroux and I will work on it more while we await Xyxl, but I believe it will only be a matter of weeks before it is fully functional.”
“We don’t have weeks,” Reynolds reminded him. “I need you to push harder and get the program done, Takal.”
“I’ll do what I can.” The inventor climbed out of his seat. “Speaking of which, I should get back to it.”
Reynolds nodded, and Takal left to return to his work.
“So, what’s our next move, boss?” Jiya asked. “We going to wait here until we’re ready to take Phraim-’Eh on again?”
The AI shook his head. “We won’t be prepared to face down all of Phraim-’Eh’s ships until Xyxl and Takal come through.”
“Then we’re staying put?” Asya asked.
“Nope,” Reynolds told her. “We’ve got Phraim-’Eh’s people scrambling, and part of the mission is to eradicate all of the Kurtherian influence he’s introduced to the universe. I think we keep the old god on his toes and hit the next target in line. As long as we know where Phraim-’Eh’s ships are, we can lash out at his holdings with impunity.”
The crew agreed.
“Once the ship is fully repaired, we’ll head out,” Reynolds said. “Who’s up for a game of Whack-A-Cultist?”
Chapter Seventeen
The repairs were finalized two days later, and Reynolds and the crew said their goodbyes to the Krokans, promising to return soon.
Once that was done, they set off again, returning to space and Gating through to the final cult installation on their list, Suri.
Alarms sounded as soon as they entered open space above the planet.
“No sneaking up on folks here,” Asya said. “They clocked us the second we exited the Gate, Captain. We’ve got four destroyers headed our way already, weapons armed.”
“No hails,” Comm reported.
“How rude,” Reynolds replied, shaking his head. “The least they can do is say hi before they try to fuck us. Dinner would be nice, too.”
“They’re serving up a meal of hot lead, from the looks of it,” Tactical said. “Although I have to question why they’re firing already when they aren’t in range yet.”
Reynolds looked at the screen and confirmed what his other personality was saying. The enemy ships had already engaged the SD Reynolds, despite not being close enough to have any accuracy or do any damage.
What few shots did reach the ship were easily deflected by the gravitic shields, the blows not even testing their integrity.
“Maybe Phraim-’Eh’s got them all riled up,” Jiya suggested. “The shithead might not be that scary to us, but he sure seems to whip his converts into a frenzy everywhere we go.”
Reynolds nodded absently, but he wasn’t sure that was the case here. Something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Scan the planet,” he ordered. “Let me know what’s going on down there.”
“These seem to be the only ships they have that are big enough to threaten us,” Jiya replied after a short pause. “There’s a large installation down there, a lot of people and equipment, but it’s not geared up like Rolant was. I’m only pinpointing a tiny fraction of the AA installations we faced down there.”
“And none of them are even trying to target us, if my readings are correct,” Maddox added.
“You think we have them spooked?” Asya asked. “We have been hitting these guys hard for months now, and even more so lately.”
Reynolds shrugged, but he felt there was something to Asya’s theory.
“Let’s find out,” he suggested. “I
want to Gate in and hit them from the flank. Let’s test their mettle.”
“Setting coordinates,” Ria replied. “Done,” she added a moment later.
“Do it,” Reynolds commanded.
The SD Reynolds Gated and appeared off the starboard side of the rearmost destroyer. Ria brought the superdreadnought right up on top of the enemy ship, and Tactical let loose.
He pounded the ship with railgun fire to soften its shields and followed up with missiles.
Caught off-guard, the destroyer veered off the wrong way, leaving it in the line of fire longer than it would have been had it turned the opposite direction. It left its weak-shield side vulnerable for far too long without reinforcing it.
Reynolds saw panic in the motion, and the destroyer paid for it with every life aboard.
Explosions tore up the side of the enemy ship, cracking its hull and blasting pieces of its armored shell into space. Its guts hemorrhaged and spewed its air into space in giant, frothing vents.
The ship broke along the lines where Tactical had struck it, and the two halves of the destroyer tumbled away, out of control, forever to be entombed in the cold of space.
The rest of the ships swung wide, making an effort to turn about and face the SD Reynolds, but it was a lazy effort and half-assed. They weren’t in any mood to rush now that they had seen their companion ship blown away.
“I guess there’s a limit to people’s fanaticism,” Jiya commented.
“Staring down the barrel of the loaded gun of their leader all the time is stressful,” Maddox said. “After a while, I can imagine folks just want an end to it. Sometimes that manifests in them charging in and taking their chances. Other times, they realize the futility of it all and put their hands up and surrender or simply run away.”
“Let’s find out which type of people these are,” Reynolds ordered. “Hail the lead ship, Comm. Let’s see if they’ll reply.”
Several long moments passed, Reynolds believing the enemy would rather face their fate than talk, and then Comm’s voice rang out.
“I’ve got the commander of the Stark on the line,” Comm announced.
“Put him through,” Reynolds said.
