After a few final twirls, Lonna took charge again: “Now let’s figure out how to fly this wreckage home!”
***
“What happened to Patrol Cruiser Frent?” Captain Rendan inquired, once they were safely inside the grey nothingness of Inter-Dimensional Space. He looked around, his gaze settling on Batamon, still seated to one side of Esten, his right hand on the n-beam panel, his left now in her right.
“Sorry, can’t say,” the older Scout replied. “I lost contact with Kuson early in the battle.” He looked at Jenik, his attention suggesting that she would be the most likely to know the answer to this pertinent question – for although they were safe whilst in the transitional dimensions referred to by Richard and Karen as Grey Space, once they dimensioned-in at the Outpost Six system, they would be vulnerable unless their guard appeared at the same time.
“My last scans showed Frent under heavy fire, Shells challenged, giving similar return fire to a Mark III Pakak.” Jenik’s careful use of terminology showed her attention to detail, and also pointed out the fact that technically their guide was outgunned by the largest, most recent addition to the Narlav fleet in that indeterminate battle.
“And no, I can’t sense Kuson in ‘here’, but I think you all understand that.” Batamon shook his head, his eyes cast downward.
“Well, Batamon…” Rendan appeared to have made a decision; he got up, holding his left hand in his right. “I’m delegating control to you for a while. Gotta fix this hand.” He looked around at his crew, gauging the reaction to this announcement from his Navigator and Pilot. “You’ll find that the seat is quite comfortable!” He walked out, disappearing down the steps at the rear of the control deck quietly and quickly.
Jenik raised her eyebrows, then blushed as she saw that Batamon was observing her. “Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t apologise. It was an unexpected choice.” Batamon let go of Esten’s hand a little reluctantly and moved over, settling himself in the Captain’s chair.
Ah, Bata… My Captain, my Captain! Esten’s forehead glistened as she tried her hardest to transmit – something that she had been practicing with her boyfriend over their brief interlude back on Fepnine.
Batamon turned from Jenik and looked at his younger girlfriend with a hint of a smile showing, like a sparkle, in his eyes. My Pilot, my Pilot! You are right on target – and Rendan was right… the chair is superb!
Esten smothered a chuckle, making a show of checking her instruments, though there was little of value that they could provide concerning the ‘un-space’ surrounding them like fog banks in a gloomy, snow-filled chasm.
***
Mizza led the way; Rochtim, Roonalta and Vennieby eagerly clambered over the twisted wreckage into the Pakak, following close behind her. The foursome moved up the passageway towards the flight deck. Lonna stayed behind in Karalk Prime, checking out Macral and instruments and contacting the nearby Patrol Cruisers.
“This is like a trip back in time!” Rochtim declared almost reverently as he stepped through the still unsecured bulkhead door and looked at the equipment before him. “Amazing! These control panels are like the ones I had in my IPA Nine!” He sat down on the nearest incliner, almost ignoring the presence of Mizza on the subsidiary padded area behind the pilot’s controls.
Roonalta rapidly took up residence on the other incliner. He checked various dials, finding the gravitational controls and then bending down to look under the panel. He slipped off and dropped in semi-slow motion to the floor, so as to look deeper into the compartment he had accessed. “Look at that!” He pulled something out, turned and waved it in front of Mizza’s face.
“Looks like an oversized Macral,” she commented perceptively.
“Exactly. Earlier model.” He put it back in place. “Haven’t seen one like that since – oh… before the war.” He worked on in silence for a few moments, then bounced back up onto the incliner. “You can push that, now.” He pointed to a specific, rather undistinguished button on the wall panel between the forward and rear work spaces.
Mizza pushed the button agreeably and the gravity field ramped smoothly up to something more like Fepnine’s field.
“Our Patrol Cruiser escort says we must move now or abandon that ship, more Pakak are coming in fast!” Lonna’s voice came over Mizza’s com-link.
Mizza settled in the pilot seat – or rather, laid flat out on the incliner, unconsciously mimicking the Narlav posturing. She looked at the three old experts and got nods from all of them. “I’m sending Vennieby back to be ‘me’, with you! We’re strapping in now. Pull back, once he’s in, and we will follow you down. That way I won’t need to navigate!”
“Ha!” Lonna buckled herself in, taking care to place the shoulder straps closer than would be normal to her neck and therefore less comfortably, as the air supply spheres occupied the spot they would normally rest in. “I’ll try not to set you on fire.”
“That would be appreciated!”
Lonna selected only the rearmost retro-jet locations, certain that they would provide sufficient force. “Visors down!” She nodded to Vennieby as he took the position her sister would have normally occupied, after pulling the large sliver of Hybralloy out of the seat back and laying it down beside the hand lasers. She waited until he was strapped in, smiling as she saw him having the same problems with the straps intersecting with the air spheres. “Here we go!”
Mizza and her ‘twin’ cohort of experts in ancient technology were already braced and strapped, which was a good thing, as Karalk Prime pulled back with such force that the separation was completed in less than a second. The atmosphere rushed out of both ships again, but this did not concern Lonna or Mizza or the venerable veterans, as they were back on their emergency, suit-mounted supplies.
Karalk Prime rushed past the forward portholes and turned towards Fepnine; the fierce flames from the tail section were indeed a guide impossible for Mizza not to see.
“Give me the Drive, gentlemen!” Mizza glanced sideways and over her right shoulder, seeing her two technical supporters fiddling with various controls. Ah! Breathing a sigh of relief at the subtle vibrations she now felt, the very well trained young pilot grabbed the control levers and brought the vessel into a parallel course. Oooh! This is fun!
Lonna checked her rear monitors, confirming that the Pakak was following. My little sister[36]! She shook her head, smiling at her own, very old joke. She’s pretty good at flying – she can fly just about anything!
***
Captain Rendan looked around at his command crew. It had been about eight hours since their departure from Fepnine and the end of their Inter-Dimensional trip was due very soon. “We don’t know for certain what we’ll find when we ‘dimension in’. The best case scenario will be another world like Outpost Eleven, still protected by Hemispherical Shells, and with no enemy ships in system. We only know for sure what happened to Outposts One, Two and Four – and of course Eleven, because of our recent trip there.”
“And we don’t know for certain that we have our escort with us,” Esten blurted out rather abruptly.
Rendan looked at her askance. “You certainly do know how to make a guy’s day!”
Jenik began the laughter, Esten joined in after a second, her face bright red. Batamon just smiled.
“That’s better!” The Captain grinned. “We do, however, have the advantage…” He looked around at his team expectantly.
Jenik nodded, still chuckling. “We will see them, whoever is there, some hemal before they see us, depending on how many light hemal we are from them when we ‘dimension in’.”
“Unless we drop in right next to them!” Esten blurted out again. “But…. BUT… I’ve programmed in two short ‘hops’, one to port, one to starboard, either of which will take us three light hemal from our initial arrival point, if that happens.” She looked around, checking that she had reclaimed some of her positional, command team ‘authority’. “That will give us enough time to decide what to do nex
t.”
“I hope some of you – at least – got some sleep during the past few hours.” Captain Rendan looked around in turn at each member of the dedicated command team. I know I didn’t. “Our alternate crew is ready in the event they are needed. I had to insist they wait further down the ship.”
Batamon took his position, hand on Esten’s shoulder. He knew this spatial precaution – considered a prudent Captain’s discretionary move – was to allow for some possibility of continued ship control, in the event of an explosion on this fairly small flight deck. There are auxiliary control systems back in the centre section.
Esten moved fractionally, briefly making a glance over her shoulder.
He knew what she wanted – he shifted his hand on her shoulder slightly, bringing his fingers into contact with her bare neck.
Thanks! I feel too hyped up for my own good – send me some of your calming waves!
Batamon nodded, though she already looking forwards again. I’ll do my best!
Time seemed to slow.
Finally the moment arrived. The greyness blurred, the streaks of light became stars, the blackness of space soaked into the semi-bleached backdrop surrounding their illustrious ship.
“Status?” Captain Rendan had been looking at his own displays, but forced himself to watch the viewscreens instead.
“No ships within short range scanner view,” Jenik commented. “Long range scanners are showing something near the Outpost. That’s five hemal away, or five hemal ago, depending.” She stopped herself, afraid of demonstrating her nervousness by unnecessary words.
Esten put the ancient vessel into a very slow turn. “It looks quiet.” No Frent. She shivered.
Yet. Batamon squeezed her shoulder.
“How long before you can analyse the Drive on that ship ‘down system’?” The Captain turned to Jenik.
“I…” Jenik adjusted some controls. “I have a good focus on it now. It’s not big enough to be a Warrnam. I should have a fair estimate of the Drive in less than a hemal.”
“Greetings!” The sultry voice made them all jump – some more than others. “This is quite the place you’ve got here!”
“That’s Patrol Cruiser Sombal – on our port rear quarter – five kilodap behind, three below.” Jenik grinned at her colleagues, intensely relieved by this voice from home.
“Sorry, this is Captain Urshulima of Sombal, standing in for Captain Barthdulon and PC Frent.”
“Thank you Captain Urshulima! This is Captain Rendan.”
“Yes, I was aware of your mission, though ours has changed. Where are we?” Something in the soothingly feminine voice made him remember how she loved to joke. Rendan decided to play this for what it could do to boost morale. “With the biggest ship and the best crew ever!” His pronouncement got chuckles from his team, which was his intent. “And you are in the system in which Outpost Six ‘resides’. Welcome to our mission. Glad you could come.”
“Ah, that’s what that little speck down system is. Couldn’t we have arrived a little closer?” Captain Urshulima could be heard, pretending to suppress a snicker. “Biggest ship – yes. But I have the best crew, I’ll have you know.”
Jenik coughed.
“Excuse me, Captain Urshulima,” Rendan apologised, sounding overly abject. “It seems we have the data now.”
“Yes, Finstilid combined our scan record with theirs.” Jenik was, by inference, telling them both the name of the Navigator on the Patrol Cruiser and also admitting what they all knew: that the scanners on that recently constructed ship were vastly superior to their rather ancient ones.
The former point was not news either, as it was knowledge that was circulated to all vessels in the form of a schedule of crew assignments. The real gem was saved to be uncovered at the end of this declaration.
“The ship down system is a Pakak II.” Jenik looked disappointed at herself for announcing this, as if it did not become an indisputable fact until she verbally admitted it. “It won’t see us for another four hemal now.”
“Sorry to interrupt again, Captain Rendan, but Finstilid tells me he has picked up two other signals from near the planet. Both seem very similar to the first one.” Captain Urshulima’s voice really sounded sorry this time. “I’ll have a full analysis in a moment.”
“Thanks.” Rendan did not sound very grateful. “I’ll have Esten tell…” He looked around, seeking the name of the pilot on the powerful Sombal.
Esten surprised him by blurting out: “Heniculay!”
“Ah, Pilot Heniculay… where we will be going next.”
“Um, thanks for sending that. How long do you need to get that old ship ready?” Captain Urshulima drawled.
Esten’s concentration was sharpened. She triple-checked her work. “Ready, Captain! Let me know when Sombal can comply.”
“Ah… Captain Urshulima. We are waiting.” Rendan tried to imitate her drawl. The result was yet more laughter from Jenik and even Esten this time.
“Thanks for the joke, Heniculay; I’ll be sure to tell my kids that one.” Urshulima made it sound like she had inadvertently hit ‘transmit’ early. “It seems we’ve been ready for some time, sorry, Captain Rendan.”
“Esten,” Rendan grinned at her, “coordinate with Heniculay, please. At your discretion.”
Esten nodded. “Here we go…”
The stars slipped across the viewscreen, fading into grey uniformity.
Only then did the destination get passed down to personnel not in the control room or on the flight deck. It was to be Outpost Nineteen.
***
Two gile had passed, mostly in the energy-intensive Eliminator-powered inter-dimensional nothingness where an almost inconceivable amount of force was needed to maintain the habitable zone around each ship. The experience at Outpost Nineteen had been very similar to that at Outpost Six, except that the nearest Narlav vessels were Warrnam and they were less than a hemal away. Departure from this system had been circumspectly prompt. The next choice was the last option for the mission; there was simply not enough fuel for further superficially random searches. Unfortunately, though at the time it was quite satisfying, they came into normal space cosmically adjacent to a Pakak II – that is: within ten miles – almost a collision by N-space navigational standards. The Arrowhead craft which promptly greeted them with green globules of destructive energy moments after their arrival in Outpost 23’s system was easily defeated by PC Sombal as it shifted into a hasty blocking position. Of course, this was very compelling evidence of a commanding – or at least pervasive – Narlav presence in this system, supported as it was by several characteristic and compelling sets of scattered Drive system signals from a more comfortable several light-hemal distance.
Captains Rendan and Urshulima gave their respective Pilots the directive to return them to Frontier Post Nine, with the proviso that their ‘dimensioning in’ would be better if it were within two planetary diameters of their isolated home world. This was technically quite challenging, as the error bars on their calculations could make any slight inaccuracies become life-threatening. Fortunately, Esten and Heniculay were both super-skilled and calmly confident. Their arrival was not only within two planetary diameters of the planet, but also turned out to be almost as close to PC Frent, restored – of course – to full functionality for some time now, after losing full Drive capability in the process of eliminating the pesky Pakak which had threatened their departure just days earlier.
Anietal, comparing notes later with Finstilid, discovered that her rear-guard mission had eliminated just as many enemy ships as the far-faring but ultimately misguided mission crews had ‘bagged’, both original and substitute, so her frustration at missing the opportunity to exit the system again was reduced to one based more on a sensation of containment than a lack of retribution.
For her and for many of the defenders, the feeling of being trapped on Fepnine was growing stronger and stronger.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The west
coast of Colomol Island[37] often enjoys a deceptive lull before the biggest storms
“What I keep wondering,” Beckie began, as she took an afternoon break from her work on VIC Defining Modules, Power Backups and Energy Tanks, “is… why haven’t they invaded yet?” Beckie looked at Kirrina with an expression far beyond her actual years as they sat with Amber on one of the compacted snowdrifts outside of the hangar at the New Leeds airstrip. They were all grateful to have found one of the rare moments of comparative though acutely arctic calm to allow their mini exterior jaunt to be tolerable. “They’ve been chucking Moon dust at our dear planet Earth for over six weeks now. And we’ve seen how well it has worked.”
“Yeah. It feels like something big, hanging over us, just about to fall,” Amber commented, shivering as she spoke, though her coat was quite warm. After her Restoration, she had been recruited to help Jane with the casting of the Patrol Craft bodies and the energy field devices that would protect them and so she had been kept very busy, just as they all had. Smoke sat at her feet, his paws encased in faux fur-lined, simulated leather covers to protect them from the extreme cold.
“I asked Latt about that.” Richard’s wife vocalized her response in deference to the admittedly unempowered but slightly older of the two girls as she sent a mental aside: Careful! - to Beckie, the younger one whom she knew far better by virtue of the multiple mind merges that she had experienced with her since she had first seen and touched her, body and soul, bleeding to death in a back alley in Boston. Kirrina was accustomed to the apparent maturity of her ‘step-sister’ and knew that it would be balanced out, later, by a period of youthful high spirits more in keeping with her actual age. In reality, Beckie was a very complex pre-teen girl who had a depth of understanding far beyond her years, especially of relationships and motivations. This was partly an inevitable consequence of the knowledge, understanding and emotions her mental abilities had brought into her consciousness from the many individuals she had come to know over the time since she had been rescued by Kirrina, but was also in large part due to the very special training that Kirrina had been giving her since that pivotal moment in her life.
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