The Guardians - Episode One

by Linell Jeppsen

  “Stop that ship engaging its FTL drives.” Captain Orta, the Andromedan in command of the fleet ordered. “Ram it if you have to!”

  “Yes, sir!” the helm officer replied as he brought the massive vessel about and engaged the main thruster banks to push them into the path of the Crulla ship.

  All around them, smaller ships and Corvettes engaged the Crulla battleships and cruisers, which had formed a secondary perimeter to cover the withdrawal of the Blood Hunt.

  A huge conflagration at the far side of the perimeter line was the result of a heavily damaged Crulla vessel ramming a League Corvette, ending both ships instantly as fuel and reactors erupted in a single, huge explosion. Several League fighters, two Saakri Torpedo ships and another Crulla vessel were caught in the extremities of the explosion, each destroyed as the super-heated flame washed over their hulls, causing multiple breaches and decompressing whole sections of the large Crulla ship.

  Captain Orta swore as he watched the display screen.

  *

  The Sasq warriors ploughed into the Crulla. To Onio’s right, Emerald Moon was firing the last of her ammunition into four advancing Crulla and instantly drew a pair of curved short-swords from scabbards across her back. Without breaking stride she waded into the creatures ahead of her.

  Onio found himself defending against a three-pronged attack from the Crulla ranks, but even in the cramped area amongst all the other warriors, his blades flashed mercilessly, cutting through armour and flesh with equal ease.

  His wounded shoulder was starting to feel the weight of battle when a second group of Sasq warriors approached from behind the Crulla and engaged them. At their forefront was a young warrior, Still Mountain.

  “Our Ram is destroyed!” he yelled to Onio, “The creatures placed bombs inside.”

  “We shall make room. Where is Lightning Cloud?” Onio asked as he parried another attack.

  “He is fallen. We could not recover the bodies. I have failed my brethren by leaving them in this hell.”

  “No, young warrior, you did what you had to do. They shall not be forgotten.”

  7.

  Onio surged, spun and fought his way through the crowd of Crulla warriors as they diverted from a larger group to meet his smaller flank of warriors.

  A roar to his right filled the corridor as one of the older Sasquereen fell to the long sword of one of the Crulla. Instantly, four of the vile creatures fell upon his writhing form.

  Onio screamed a terrifying battle cry and converged on his fallen comrade, slicing the head off a creature that was moving in to attack him. The four Crulla growled and hissed at him, as if challenging him to take their prey. Onio stopped short and smiled menacingly at their reaction, and while the battle raged around them, the four Crulla stood and faced him. Onio threw his bladed staff, sending it straight and true through the torso of another creature in the process of trying to out-flank Blue Sky. Then, from the long leather scabbard down the centre of his back, Onio drew his ceremonial sword.

  The jewelled hilt and wide, glimmering blade instantly got the attention of the four Crulla, who drew their own weapons and stepped toward the Sasq king.

  Onio turned slowly, the tip of the razor-sharp blade etching a perfect circle in the deck plate around him, then with a flourish and a spin of steel, he dropped into his stance. Around the perimeter, Crulla fell under the weight and ferocity of the Sasq advance, but no-one approached the four who faced Onio.

  Within moments, a large group of Sasq warriors enclosed the stand-off at both ends, clearing a channel against the farthest wall through which they quickly and quietly removed the bodies of their fallen warriors, taking them in to the Ram.

  “What are you waiting for, scum!” Onio taunted, “Scared of facing a Sasq without an injury? I shall make you a deal and remain within my circle.” The nearest Crulla advanced slowly. “Now, that’s more like it. Let’s dance!”

  *

  Another three Crulla ships imploded under fire from the Guardian Fleet Corvettes and Cruisers while hundreds of fighters swarmed between the capitol ships, firing on every Crulla gun placement they could find.

  The carnage of the battlefield was beyond anything Captain Orta had ever seen. Starfleet engagements rarely ended in battle when a 100 strong League fleet dropped into a system. This battle was testimony to either immense bravery, zealot-like loyalty, or utter stupidity on the part of the Crulla.

  He surveyed the drifting hulks of dead vessels and the spinning debris that had once been gun placements, fighters and parts of much larger ships. The ship shuddered as the Crulla vessels fired on his ship, causing the pilot and tactical officer to offer him a worried glance.

  “Do not deviate from the course. We stop that command ship from leaving, no matter what it costs.”

  *

  Onio parried five strikes in quick succession, dropped to one knee and swept his blade to the left. It passed through the flesh and bone of the Crulla warrior’s leg like it was made from the softest clay.

  The Crulla spun and fell to the ground as his severed limb bounced away toward the appreciative Sasq witnesses.

  A vertical strike from behind almost found Onio’s shoulder. He barely avoided the blade, diverting it into the floor as he continued the rotation of his own weapon, raising it above his head and splitting the torso of the creature to his rear. He rapidly rotated the blade again, slicing through the gut of the Crulla, who instantly dropped to the deck.

  The remaining two Crulla still standing converged on him and stabbed wildly as anger started to overcome judgement. Onio parried both blades simultaneously and then swept back and up, taking the first Crulla across the shoulder and throat but losing his grip on his sword as the final opponent recovered his wayward strike and swung again.

  Onio grasped the wrist of the creature and crushed it in his powerful grip, ignoring the blade that anchored itself in his bicep.

  The Crulla hissed and screamed in pain, then thrust forward in an effort to bite at Onio’s arm.

  With a roar, Onio hammered his other fist into the side of the jaw that suddenly presented itself, the crunching of shattering bones in face and neck filling the silence that suddenly filled the makeshift arena.

  The creature dropped to its knees. Onio released the wrist and breathed heavily over the slumped form before him.

  A whimpering hiss to his left reminded him that the Crulla with the severed leg still remained alive. Onio gazed at the creature with pure hatred in his eyes, then knelt and recovered his sword.

  He stepped forward and stood before the cowering Crulla warrior. “You are a race of parasites,” he seethed, “A plague upon our galaxies, an evil we will not permit to be. Wherever you go, we shall hunt you. You and your kind are known to us now. You have made enemies this day. Enemies who shall be your undoing.” Onio grunted at the creature and stepped past it toward the open Ram. “It is time we left,” he said quietly.

  *

  “Get us away from that ship!” the Commander ordered angrily.

  “They continue to block our retreat,” the pilot replied, “I cannot engage our FTL drive while they hold their position.”

  “Then take us up!” the Commander growled, “We shall have time to re-join the barges once we are free of this battle.”

  *

  Captain Orta’s vivid blue eyes widened as the Crulla vessel suddenly tilted upwards, the nose of the ship quickly rocking upwards towards an area of space where only a few small fighter squadrons dominated the battle area.

  He hurled commands to pilot, tactical and propulsion officers to get the Command Ship back into position, knowing that he potentially had moments to secure whatever Sasq lives were still aboard the vessel.

  “Two Rams breaking free of the Crulla ship!” the tactical officer suddenly reported.

  “And the other?” Captain Orta demanded.

  “Disabled,” the officer replied quietly. “They are firing up their FTL drives. They will jump at any moment.”


  “Are our Rams at safe distance?”

  “No, sir. Not yet. The backwash from an FTL jump could tear them apart!”

  “Weapons Officer! Open fire with everything we have! Delay that FTL jump!”

  *

  Onio and his surviving warriors squashed themselves into the available space. Almost 150 injured and exhausted Sasquereen crouched and stood in solemn silence; their mission to recover a Crulla Commander failed, the cost in Sasq warriors incalculable.

  Through the view port, Onio could see the second Ram keeping pace with them and found himself negotiating his way through the throng of warriors toward the bridge.

  “Two Horses,” he said evenly, “Hail the other Ram. I wish to know how many warriors are on board.”

  Two Horses turned her head, meeting Onio’s gaze, “They already reported. Only sixty-three warriors returned; nine of those injured.”

  Onio sighed. More than one hundred Sasq warriors were lost and at least 30 of the survivors were injured… and all for nothing.

  Suddenly the pilot swore. “Tell everyone to get hold of something!”

  Onio frowned and stared out of the cockpit, where the League Command Ship filled the space ahead of them. His eyes widened as he saw the barrage of laser and missile fire blossoming toward them.

  “WARRIORS! BRACE FOR IMPACT!” he screamed back into the transit area.

  8.

  The Rams raced away from the Crulla ship, twisting and diving amongst the missiles and laser fire from their own command ship.

  The Sasq warriors within the small ships held on to anything, including each other, as the inertia of the roll and twist of the ship was amplified within the cramped, overcrowded interior. Several warriors retched in the undulating pressures.

  *

  The Crulla Commander slammed a fist against the side of his chair as the tactical officer reported the departure of the two Rams.

  “Are there any survivors aboard?”

  “Not that we are aware of, Commander. Only a few dozen bodies were left behind.”

  “Fools! Our warriors will have drained those by now. We have gained nothing.”

  “Preparing to engage FTL drive,” the pilot reported.

  The Commander turned to respond when the first few thuds of enemy ordnance shuddered the bridge.

  “Commander!” the tactical officer’s eyes flashed across his screens, “Multiple hits… and I am reading hundreds of incoming missiles and a mass of laser fire!” The bridge shuddered again, this time more violently.

  “Is the FTL still online?”

  “Yes Commander, but…” the pilot began.

  “Engage! NOW!”

  *

  As the first missiles impacted the outer hull of the huge Crulla ship, several other League Corvettes and Battleships joined in the assault from the other side. Powering its way through the gauntlet of fire that threatened to consume it, the Blood Hunt rose steadily out of the centre of the ships which continued to fire upon it.

  Explosions blossomed along the length of the ship as a shimmering red whirlpool of light began to manifest itself in the space in front of it.

  The Crulla pilot stared worriedly at the readouts as the engines accumulated power in readiness for the FTL jump. Alongside the power readouts, a separate screen showed damage and engine integrity, all of which were gradually nudging their way toward danger levels as enemy fire pounded the ship.

  *

  The Ram rolled a complete 360 around a group of missiles as it headed for safety. Flying a parallel course, the second Ram dipped beneath a spear of laser fire and then jinked sideways to avoid a missile of its own.

  Aboard his Ram, Onio crouched into the doorway to the bridge and watched as his warriors bunched together in small groups, holding onto each other and offering silent reassurance through their telepathic voices.

  A song swam eerily into his subconscious thoughts. His warriors joining together to sing their anthem of victory. He allowed his own voice to join those of his warriors as the Ram dodged and swayed through the field of fire and debris.

  *

  The flash of red on the FTL integrity screen caused the Crulla pilot to cry out. He knew what it meant. He knew that it was simply too late.

  *

  The spiral of red light grew before the Blood Hunt, gaining in power and density as it became the wormhole that would pull the vessel through and into the safety of faster-than-light flight.

  With the rest of the Crulla fleet already disabled or destroyed, twenty League capitol ships now pummelled and pounded the Crulla ship with missiles, bombs and laser fire. One Corvette Captain was even repositioning to place his ship in the space between the Crulla ship and the wormhole, effectively blocking the escape route and hopefully forcing their surrender.

  The Blood Hunt moved ever forward, gradually accelerating as the FTL drives built up the mass needed to push the ship into the wormhole.

  Strike after strike battered the rear quarter of the hull. Flames purged through the outer hull vents as the reinforced inner hull dissipated the heat of the lasers and missile explosions.

  Then the crack appeared.

  The outer hull around the lower port-side engine began to vent blue gas and flame. Captain Orta’s eyes widened as he instantly recognised the signs of the neutron reactor breach. He had no more than a minute to get his fleet clear.

  *

  The Crulla Commander heard the warning shout, saw the screens on his console flash up red, and sighed in resignation as the FTL reactor registered a massive failure.

  The ship vibrated violently as the neutron containment fields fell. Already the engineering section would be burning at temperatures of thousands of degrees. Within moments, the bulkheads between engineering and the rest of the ship would disintegrate and the rest of the ship would flood, section-by-section, until nothing remained.

  Once it was little more than a container full of super-heated radioactive gas, the Blood Hunt would explode, effectively becoming a miniature super-nova.

  He allowed himself a smile. The League would lose a lot of ships when the Blood Hunt died. He only regretted he would not be there to see it.

  *

  The Rams skidded across the deck of the Command Ship, stopping only when they came to rest against the opposite bulkhead of the launch deck.

  Onio and his warriors breathed in relief as Two Horses pushed her head into the area. “The Deck officer says the ship is going to jump to a safe distance. Everyone brace!” she called.

  The Sasq warriors crouched and hugged their knees, waiting for the severe nausea that would precede the jump to light speed.

  *

  The League ships began to vanish from the tactical scope, one-by-one. Each escaping signal made the Crulla Commander’s leering smile falter a little more.

  The console was now showing that almost 60 percent of the ship was now internally consumed. The vibration of the coming gas storm was almost unbearable and his bridge crew were in open panic.

  He could already feel the heat building up in the steel of the ship, but continued to watch as the signals of the League vessels vanished before his eyes… eight remaining… seven… five… two…

  *

  The last of the damaged battle cruisers flashed into the distance. Captain Orta nodded to his pilot. He knew they had mere seconds before the Crulla ship turned into a fireball that would almost certainly disable his Command Ship.

  “Drop the buoy,” he ordered, “and get us out of here.”

  “Buoy away!” the tactical officer responded instantly.

  “FTL engaged!” the pilot added.

  The ship seemed to stretch momentarily into the blue spiral that had appeared before it, then with a flash of gold and white, the Command Ship vanished within the spiral.

  As the spiral faded away, the Crulla ship shuddered suddenly and burst into white-hot flame. The wash of the explosion vaporised the debris from the battle and the damaged, retreating Crulla ships, and sc
orched the pale grey face of the Ontarray moon.

  On his bridge, Captain Orta watched the footage of the Crulla vessel exploding, from the buoy they had left behind. The fierce explosion had annihilated the buoy within seconds, but he had seen enough to know that the few surviving Crulla ships were heavily damaged, and unlikely to survive the resulting shockwave. Any who did would be limping back in the direction they had come from; easy to pursue.

  The last image he saw was of a Crulla battleship caught in the blast, its rear end torn apart from the rest of the ship, exposing the entire vessel to the icy vacuum of space.

  9.

  As what remained of the League’s fleet made its way back to the Hub, Prince Dram Tass Cuullar, aboard the royal barge, Dram I’ito, hurled a goblet across his stateroom so hard it made a dent in the soft plastic-coated walls.

  His younger niece, Dram Kali Mourouvi, watched silently as the rest of the royal family paced, wept, or pulled their long hair out in grief and anger. The bulk of their fleet was demolished, their plans lay in ruin.

  The Crulla no longer had the option to overtake a suitable planet with brute force. Most of their battle cruisers had been destroyed in the battle and even now the Crulla ships floated, broken and discarded, like so much rubbish in the deep of space, along with most of their warriors.

  The general crews of the royal barges were of the warrior sect, with several hundred on each of the two smaller barges, and almost four thousand on the Dram I’ito. Spread across the surviving escort ships, many thousands of other warriors flew with the royal fleet. Dram Kali heaved a sigh of relief. Too many of their people had already perished when the Ve’empeer died. To lose all of their warriors would have been a blow the species could not endure.

  Still, there were now only three battle cruisers, one capitol ship and one military transport carrying fifteen smaller support vessels, and three royal barges left, of a mighty Crulla fleet which had numbered almost 70 huge warships. What remained now was hardly enough to conquer a world as potentially advanced and heavily populated as Earth.

  Although she was one of her uncle’s favourites, she had still not managed to convince the prince that the world he sought might be too big to take on, even for the mighty Crulla.