The Demise

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

-----CHAPTER FOUR: FIGHT OR FLIGHT-----

Tamarillho sat stunned in her command chair. The realization that she was on the bridge of Central Command’s latest and most top-secret warship almost caused her to faint. Sure, she had wanted to make the jump to the combat navy at some point, but she had wanted to decide for herself when she felt ready. Now, she had no choice. She was commanding possibly the most powerful and dangerous ship in the Commonwealth Navy. There was no resigning now.

A sudden cry from her TO caused her already present fear to deepen.

“NAAH!!!!! Ma’am, that Kent’s coming after us!”
“What…..?”
Her TO looked at the verge of mental breakdown. He was whimpering slightly.
“It’s chasing us….. It’s chasing us…..”
“Come on man, get back to your senses.”
He continued whimpering and slowly turned a rather pale shade of chalk-white.
“No….. No…..”
Tamarillho realized she’d have to check her own small screen to see what was going on.

She felt her face change color to the same shade of white as the TO’s.

The Kent had all of its turrets trained on the fleeing Vulture, and it was preparing four long-ranged torpedoes, two standard ones and two heavy-duty, the torp’s target trackers flickering on the Vulture’s hull.

“Ensign..... Durryn..... take..... take us to the next..... warp point.....”
“Aye ma’am.”

Tamarillho felt the ship change course, but her eyes were riveted on the unknown warship racing towards them, slowly catching up with them. A cold fear slowly crept up into her stomach. She felt her heart rate decreasing. Several sentences lurked at the edge of her mind, ready to be shouted aloud over the bridge, but “Abandon ship! All hands abandon ship!”, “Kamikaze course!” and “Push the engines to as far as they’ll go! I don’t care about the Caranck border!” didn’t manage to reach her vocal cords.

Tamarillho noticed her nav officer was talking to her, but it didn’t quite register.

“Excuse me, Ensign? What did you say?”
“It’s diverting course, ma’am. It’s got its torps trained on C-Devonshire. Some of its turrets are still tracking us, but the larger part have diverted to C-Devonshire.”
It took a few moments for it to sink in, but after that she felt she was fully in control of her faculties again, and acted quickly.
“Durryn, course nearest warp point. Push the engines as far as they’ll go. Lieutenant Wheliin, get back to your senses and start jamming any and all transmissions to and from us. We’ve got a chance here, people.”

A bright light in the corner of the viewscreen attracted her attention. She immediately realized what it was, even though it took a few seconds for the shockwave to hit. C-Alpha 5 Devonshire was gone.

“Ma’am, it’s coming after us again!”
“Durryn, take us to the Cartsial Storm. Try to keep away from the pulse-energy pockets.”

She always felt nervous when sending her ship into a stellar storm where it might get damaged, but she felt it was their only chance. If they managed to lure the Kent into it as well, they should be saved – that is, if Durryn managed to stay away from the dense pockets of gas where energy pulses arced back and forth. Any ship coming too close to these pulse-energy pockets would unavoidably receive a powerful jolt of raw energy, which could easily blow out several bulkheads, and if a ship would go through one of the pockets, the energy would be completely drained but the ship’d receive massive damage. Some of the larger pockets could destroy a largish Destroyer were it to pass through. All pilots and crews were explicitly warned against entering these stellar storms when they first enrolled in a Commonwealth Navy Academy. In fact, the entire first week at any Academy consisted solely of a red-faced officer shouting these words over and over again at his recruits. Entering a storm like this without explicit orders would be punished severely. The least one could expect was a lifetime ban from piloting any space craft.

“I’ve got a fix on a clear corridor. Kent’s following. It’s at 17-right, distance fifteen hundred clicks and closing.”
Fortunately for scientists, explorers and reckless maniacs, almost all stellar storms had clear tracts of open space running through them. Most were less than fifteen m-3-clicks in diameter, barely enough to accommodate a medium-sized probe, but larger corridors are known to exist.
Unfortunately, however, all corridors changed continuously, so piloting any space craft through them was very risky. Tamarillho wasn’t at all certain if Durryn wasn’t going to get them all killed, but it was better than a certain death running.

The knot in Tamarillho’s throat tightened as she felt the slight jolts of the ship being pulled by the EM fields in the storm as the gases closed around them.
“Ma’am, way we’ve come in’s just closed.”

So here they were. Inside a very dangerous storm, with no clear way out, and a large warship approaching, bent on killing them. Well, at least Tamarillho’s command chair was comfortable.

-----END OF CHAPTER FOUR-----

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

Little more background info on Part Four and no I'm not just doing this to increase my post count.

The Caranck Border is the border at the edge of a solar system. Beyond the Border there is nothing of interest save for a few comets and the odd Oort cloud. It represents the edge of the system in SEIV. Ships don't normally go beyond the Caranck border. Tamarillho's impulse to say she didn't care about it meant that she was willing to go into really empty space far out of reach of any help just to try and shake off the chasing Kent.

Yes, I am naming all my freighters and other transports after British cities The reason the Vulture (or NKCS Star Asteroid as its official name goes) doesn't carry a name like this is because salvage craft aren't considered real cargo transports, since they have to pick up debris before transporting it.

When Terlan (the nav officer) mentioned "C-Devonshire" he meant C-Alpha 5 Devonshire. C-Alpha 5 Devonshire is the central command station for the Devonshire system. It relays all orders and almost all comms traffic in the entire system, and coordinates system defenses and economy. All Kytheran systems are commanded by a C-[class] [subclass] [system name] station. Alpha is the class. It is a general-purpose "inner rim" command station, designed to coordinate a system close to the core of the Commonwealth. Beta is a more military station, while Gamma is a station with a focus on economic coordination. There are more types, but most are simply small variations - usually in size - on the ones mentioned here. 5 means it is of subclass 5 - the highest level. When a station is first constructed, it is level 1. As its comman duties and capabilities increase, and more additional sections get constructed, it raises in level. The maximum level is always 5. Devonshire speaks for itself; it is in the Devonshire system.

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

-----CHAPTER FIVE: TREYGHAL-----

Tamarillho suddenly remembered something. Didn’t Cho say he’d send a Heavy Combat Scout and a squadron of Interceptors to the Vulture’s assistance?

“Incoming transmission, Commander.”
“Who from?”
“Small warship, distance three k-clicks.”
“Put ‘em on screen.”

The screen flickered for a moment, as the pinkish-red stellar storm with its occasional energy discharge vanished and made way for the face of a commanding officer. A Captain, Tamarillho knew. The three-star silver eagle pin was a dead giveaway.

“This is Captain Treyghal of the NKCNS Fortitude. You seem to be having trouble with a combat lander, no?”
“How ever did you guess, Captain?”
“The energy signatures on the remains of C-Devonshire, and the fact that that ship is the only thing in the system with pulse-cannon turrets.”
“Don’t come closer, you might attract their attention.”
“We’ve been ordered to protect you. It looks like you need it.”
“Is something wrong with your long-distance sensors or something?”
“Why?”
We’re trying to lure the damn thing into the Cartsial. We’re safe – for now at least – inside a clear corridor. If that thing enters it’ll be destroyed.”
“You do know it might not work?”
“Captain, that ship is large enough for it to trigger three pockets when it enters. Trust me, it’ll work. No need to put yourself at risk. Durryn, evasives NOW!”
A new pocket condensed in front of them, she saw on her small viewscreen. She could already see the small energy discharges ever-present in the cloud growing in strength and frequency.

The ship made a sudden turn hard right and accelerated to one-quarter third-max speed she guessed. Another pocket condensed in front of them. She opened her mouth to shout an order at Durryn, but he already reacted and banked sharply left. He led them into a relatively stable, wide corridor.

“Captain,” Tamarillho resumed, “you have been assigned to protect us. As such, under every merchant and military law you must listen to me. Back – off – now.”
“Sorry Commander, no can do. Closing on enemy. Gonna switch off visual, audio link will remain open.”
Captain Treyghal’s face flickered out of existence and turned into a random pinkish-red cloud.
“Ma’am, he’s still closing on that Kent.” her TO informed her. “Distance seventeen thousand clicks and closing.”
“Regarding what?”
“Us. Distance to Kent – fourteen k-clicks.”
“Treyghal, back off NOW!”
“Commander, we mustn’t lose you. I can’t tell you why, but it’s crucial you and your ship survive.”
“Don’t bother with the secrecy Captain, I’ve figured it out on my own.”
Her entire bridge crew looked at Tamarillho with an all-round look of astonishment. They probably didn’t even knew there was something odd about all this.
“Then you must also know it’s critical your ship survives.”
“Well, I’m touched with your concern for my personal safety.”
“Distance Kent-us three hundred clicks. They’re at the edge of the storm. Distance Fortitude-us nine thousand k-clicks and closing. He’s increasing speed.”
“Captain, if you don’t back off now I’ll have you court-martialed for insubordination on escort duty.”
He didn’t reply.

“Commander, he’s closed the channel.”
“Dammit.”
“This doesn’t look too good.”

Tamarillho transferred the TO’s viewscreen output to her own screen. He was right. It didn’t look good. The Kent was holding position outside the storm, however it now targeted its weapons at the Fortitude. It was already arming one of the long-rangers.

“Reopen the channel with the Fortitude.”
“Aye ma’am.”
“Fortitude, this is the Vul- I mean, the Star Asteroid. Retreat immediately. You are entering a direct-fire zone. That ship is targeting you with a long-ranger.”
If Treyghal received the transmission, he didn’t bother to reply.

“Distance Fortitude-Kent five-fifty clicks and closing. Treyghal’s slowing down.”

Tamarillho suddenly felt strange. She missed something. She didn’t know what, she just missed something that had been there before.

“He’s picking up speed! Distance one-seventy and closing!”
“Treyghal! Back off now!”
This time he replied.
“Commander, you are in great danger. I’ll create a diversion, you run like hell.”
“Are you LISTENING to me?!? BACK OFF!”
“Tamarillho, stop talking and start running. You’re in great danger.”
“He closed the channel. Distance Fortitude-Kent..... one-fifty clicks.”
Tamarillho saw a red crosshairs appear onscreen, moving a little, accelerating. A ---WARNING--- sign blinked red above the viewscreen.
“Long-ranger away. Distance Fortitude-missile one-ten clicks and closing fast. He’s opened a channel.”
“Tamarillho, this might be your last chance. Run – now.”

Then, Tamarillho realized what it was she missed.

“Durryn, sixty right, get us out of here, max possible speed.”
“Ma’am?”
“Just do it already!”
“Aye aye.”
“Distance Fortitude-missile forty clicks and closing.”

A small flash lit up a corner of the viewscreen before it disappeared outside its field of vision.

Tamarillho knew what was missing, and why Treyghal had picked up speed and sacrificed himself and his crew.

The energy discharges had stopped.

-----END OF CHAPTER FIVE-----

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

-----CHAPTER SIX: ENDGAME-----

The Vulture sped out of the dead storm at speeds so high the ship itself seemed to distort from an outside viewpoint. The Kent’s long-range torpedo had hit the Fortitude right under the engine block, rupturing its emergency drive plasma storages. The plasma got in the photon torch exhaust, and the entire engine block detonated a moment later. Virtually no debris larger than roughly the size of a fist remained of the small but potent warship.

Tamarillho ordered Ensign Durryn to get them back on their original course. It already cost the crew of a warship and an entire command station their lives, so what she was ordered to do must be very important.

“Ma’am! Large-scale warp point activity! There’s a fleet coming out of the Yhunni warp point!”
“Divert course! Divert course! I don’t want to end up approaching an enemy fleet dead-on!”
“Wait a sec..... no, that isn’t an enemy fleet..... those are our Edinburgh-class exodus transports!”
“What? How many?”
“It looks like..... Well, it looks like eighteen of them.”
“What?!? EIGHTEEN?!?”
“Erm, well..... yes.”

This couldn’t be. Eighteen Edinburghs? That equalled about 4.5 BILLION people.

“You’re getting false readings, Lieutenant. Run an internal sweep of the sensors.”
“The sensors are working fine.”
“Can you determine their load?”
“Each one chock-full of population.”

Tamarillho slumped. 4.5 billion people had just warped into the system, a system also containing an immensely powerful and obviously enemy warship. She was all that stood between the 4.5 billion men and women and the modified combat lander. She knew she had to do something, but what? Her small ship couldn’t possibly hope to take on the refit Kent, which was about the equivalent of a rather large warship. On top of that, it boasted both long-range attack power as well as short-range heavy hitting capability. How could an apparently unarmed ship hope to stop that much attack power?

“Look for non-comms buttons on your console.”
“Ma’am?”
“Buttons which have nothing to do with comms traffic.”

The Lieutenant hunched over his console, examining every tenth of an n-click of it. Tamarillho went over to him.

“Oh damn.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”

Tamarillho went back to her command chair in a ponderous mood.

“Durryn, place us between the Kent and the transports,” she said absent-mindedly.

Why had she been given a Hunter Assault Craft without weapons? What was the point? And why did the ship have such an unusually large cargo bay? Most salvage ships had bays just over half the size of the Vulture’s.

“Three birds in the air! Three long-rangers on the transports!” the TO cried. Tamarillho acted quickly, in a slight daze.
“Durryn, place us in front of those torpedoes! Now! Stand by lifeboats!”

Durryn guided the Vulture straight into the path of the torpedoes without hesitation. The three specks became larger and larger.

“All non-bridge crew abandon ship! Repeat all non-bridge crew abandon ship!”

Metallic clunks and wooshes indicated life pods being launched everywhere but from the bridge lifeboat bay. Three heavy explosions rocked the ship.

“Structural supports on decks two through four completely gone! Hull ruptures everywhere! Cargo hold’s been breached! Salvage arms blown away! It’s loading capship killers!”
“Abandon ship! Abandon ship!”

The bridge crew simultaneously turned to Tamarillho. The same thoughts crossed the minds of all three men. Did they really hear that correctly? Was Tamarillho ordering them to abandon ship?

“Now! Get the hell out of here!”
“It’s firing a pulse turret!”
“Get out of here! That’s an order!”

Tamarillho didn’t watch her bridge crew enter the lifeboat bay. She focused her gaze on her small screen and multi-functional console. She transferred helm control to it, then quickly grabbed a nano-activated vacc suit and activated the auto-function. She felt the slight chill as the nanofilaments pulled themselves into place all over her body. The evasive maneuver she made didn’t completely avoid the pulse. It skimped the ship, blasting away the front side of the bridge, obliterating the viewscreen and sending debris flying everywhere. Se was granted a free view of open space.

Glancing only momentarily at the evac fleet near the warp point, she didn’t think and simply acted. She turned the Vulture to face the oncoming Kent. She knew its weak spot. A flash on top of the warship, and a second pulse blasted away the tactical console. Pieces of debris pierced Tamarillho’s suit and punctured her abdomen. She aimed the ship specifically for the energy conduit juncture beneath the bridge of the approaching warship. She accelerated the ship at forty gees, and felt her body being thrusted into her command chair as the EM stabilizer fields that usually negated high-gee effects were gone. She steadied the speed at four first-grade max.

The warship realized what Tamarillho was doing only when it was too late. It tried to take evasives, but Tamatillho knew they wouldn’t work. Moments before the Vulture rammed the Kent, she took one last action and jumped through the gaping hole in her bridge. The warship’s anti-radiation fields deflected the small object with ease.

Tamarillho’s vision blurred. The large brownish streak in front of her turned into a bright flash just before she blacked out.

Commander Elsee Tamarillho was dead.

-----END OF CHAPTER SIX-----

---------------END OF PART ONE---------------

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

-----EPILOGUE-----

Grand Admiral Ghettex hurried down the corridor. He was late for a Central Command meeting. As he ran past a courier-bot and nearly knocked it down, thoughts flashed through his mind.

“Will they kick me out for being so bloody late?”
“Is this an important meeting? I hope not.....”
“Has this got anything to do with that fleet of Edinburghs?”
“Dinner at the Xiati Restaurant or at the Jraenar Take-Away?”

The door proximity sensors detected him barely in time. He just slipped through the opening door. It was a good thing, too: he ran pretty fast, and a collision between a running man and five n-clicks of solid compressed neutronium usually ended up badly for the running man.

“Sorry I’m late. Was a delay at the docking port, navcomp of a yacht went haywire and we needed to give it wide berth.”
“Jurihaan, how nice of you to join us. We were about to start without you.”

Ghettex went to his seat, still panting slightly. Damn. He shouldn’t have run all the way from the docking port. His one hundred and seventeen-year-old body couldn’t cope with it.

The Chairman opened the meeting.

“Now, if we would leave the formalities for what they are, let’s get down to business. We’ve got three things to handle here.”
“Three? I thought this was going to be about the Edinburgh fleet?” another Grand Admiral inquired.
“Yes, this will be about the Edinburghs. All three agenda points are related to them. First, the ships themselves. They carry the entire population of Hemrai. Where are we going to leave four point five billion people?”
“Perhaps we could send them to the frontier colonies in the Targah sector.”
“No, they’d be overflowing, and our flank’s too vulnerable there. If an enemy fleet manages to push through, we’d lose an unacceptable amount of civilians. We’d have riots breaking out all over the Commonwealth.”
“Hasn’t Raktel just been bombed?”
“There’s only room for five hundred million people there. We’d still be stuck with the remaining four billion.”
“Build habitat stations throughout this system?”
“Too slow. We can’t have them live on cramped transports for months.”
“Spread them out over all available transports and cargo stations until the first habitat stations are complete.”
“OK. Everybody agree?”

Nods and “Yes”es all around. The Chairman pushed a few buttons on his console.

“Now. Next agenda point. The attack on Devonshire.”

Everybody was shocked. Three people rose from their chairs.

“There was an attack on Devonshire?”
“We lost a small warship and the command station.”
“What?!?”
“We lost the NKCNS Fortitude and C-Alpha 5 Devonshire.”
“Who’s responsible? I demand we declare war on them immediately!!!”
“We don’t know.”
“WHAT?!!”
“What we know is that the attack was carried out by a modified Kent combat lander.”

Everybody rose from their seats now. A Commonwealth ship? One that always traveled in convoys, no less?

“The ship was equipped with Tarmalean pulse cannon turrets.....”
“Then declare war on them!”
“.....and an entire battery of torpedo launchers.”
“Torpedo launchers?!”
“Torpedo launchers.”
“But the Tarmaleans never even use torpedoes! The last Tarmalean torpedo was fired three hundred years ago!”
“On top of that, the magazines carried both long-rangers and capship killers as well as standard torps.”
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t there any one single nation that has long-rangers and capship killers? This must’ve been a concerted effort by insiders and at least two other parties!”
“Or it could have been the work of pirates who raided a shipyard, took the Kent designs and built one fitted with technology they’d acquired from other raids.”
“That’s preposterous! We would have known if they’d taken any designs!”
“You’ve forgotten about Greythorn?”

The man who said this slumped.

“Greythorn. Yes. Of course.”
“Now, this means that we have to put all ships on high alert. If they spot any unidentified Commonwealth vessel, and it doesn’t reply to a set number of hails, they must shoot on sight.”
“And how about evac transports who’ve lost all means of communicating?”
“They’d be ordered to cut engines and wait until a boarding team arrives.”
“Good point.”
“Now. Third agenda point. The Star Asteroid.”

Everybody in the small, round, plasma-cannon-proof room looked astounded.

“Is..... is there something wrong with it?”
“Definitely.”
“Uh oh.”
“It’s gone.”
“What?!?”
“Did you really think eighteen wounded evac transports could’ve stood up to a heavily-armed warship?”
“Sir?”
“The transports were surprised by a comet storm in the Gharna system. Mericum riddled comets. Knocked out long-distance comms antenna and defense weaponry.”
“But what has the Star Asteroid to do with that?”
“The Kent warship, the evac convoy and the Asteroid all were in Devonshire at the same time.”
“But the Asteroid’s unarmed! How did it stop..... oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“What?”
“Tamarillho ditched her crew and went kamikaze.”
“Oh no.”
“We are going to build a new one, no?”
“Yes, Hartag’s already working on it.”
“Then what’s it doing on a Central Command agenda?”
“Tamarillho did save the entire population of the fourth most important planet in the Commonwealth, and she stopped a warship which could’ve otherwise caused the deaths of millions, perhaps even billions.”
“So?”
“I’m going to give her an honorary promotion to Captain First Class, if Central Command agrees.”
“Just that? She did save an astonishing number of people.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Captain First Class and a post-humous Medal of Extraordinary Valor.”
“And a Medal for Services Rendered!”
“Agreed. Does Central Command have any objections to this?”
“No.”
“That’s settled then. Good day gentlemen.”

-----END OF EPILOGUE-----

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

Sorry for the delay, people!



-----PROLOGUE TO PART TWO-----

Lieutenant Tarm Heggson felt happy. Very happy. He was assigned to take the first ship of the Glasgow-class to Yhetan IV, where its captain would assume command. But, until that time, Heggson was in charge of this new type of freighter, a herald of the future design of cargo ships.

After the encounter with the Kent warship, now just over ten years ago, Central Command decided something had to be done. The next time something like this would happen, there probably wouldn’t be a ship with a CO like Tamarillho – who was seen as the greatest hero in civilian space flight to date – in the vicinity. And if the next time was anything like the first time, billions of lives could be at stake.

A top-secret think-tank of the best civilian and military ship engineers were put to work designing the “freighter of the future”. Five years of designing and another five of building and testing prototypes and refining the desing had culminated in the brand-new Glasgow class of “hybrid” freighters.

The Glasgow carried three heavy main guns, and large batteries of secondary and tertiary weapons. Unlike the old cargo ships, which were only adequately equipped to handle a smallish meteor, this new civilitary ship could take on some of the older Cruisers still in service in the enemy fleet and come out on top. And that was just this ship. What Central Command and their think-tank were planning for the future, up until over a century ahead, was even more staggering.

*****

“OK, set course for Yhetan system, coordinates 6.953 M-clicks by 2.402 M-clicks.”
“Roger.”

The Devonshire Warp Point loomed ahead, though not in the center and focus of the main screen but on a picture-in-picture tactical view mode. Still, it was getting closer. Already, a faint blue spot could be discerned in the distance, slightly larger than the infinite amount of stars surrounding it in the background.

*****

“Entering warp point dead zone, approaching event horizon.”
“Activate Tanner-shift compensators.”
“Aye, activating compensators.”

A semi-faint, deep rumble could be heard emanating from what seemed to be the floor as the advanced compensators started generating a ship-wide insulation field.

As the NKCX Faint Hazard entered the warp point event horizon, Heggson’s vision went slightly blue for a moment, until the compensators had found the correct frequency for the insulation field.

“This is much better than on the Drizzle,” he thought. “That old beaut didn’t have these new-fangled Tanner-shift things. At least when I get back here, she’ll be outfitted with ‘em too. Thank Gazhnah. No more spending days out cold in a bloody transpace tunnel.”

*****

The Faint Hazard approached the other side of the warp conduit, when Heggson’s (temporary) TO suddenly called out to him.

“We’ve got an incoming UFO, semi-organic, size of a human! Wait..... I’m picking up signatures of nanos!”
“Course?”
“Going to pass by us narrowly, sir. Ten 2T-clicks away. You could grab it by sticking your arm out the window.”
“You say it’s the size of a human, with nanos?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s exactly what I’’m going to do.”

As he walked through the ship on his way to the primary airlock, he was lost in thought. Could it be true? But how? And, if true, how come the nanos didn’t deactivate themselves? Only active nanos would be detected by a general scan. Something strange was going on here. Something very strange.

*****

“Grappler arms standing by.” the computer informed Heggson. He pressed some onscreen keys and watched the control screen turn into a visual, full-color display of what was going on outside. The main cam showed a smallish, light-blue form floating past. As the camera focused on it, a smaller screen popped up, showing what was directly in front of the grapplers. He recognized the shape as a human form, clearly with a nano-vacc suit. Ten-year-old model. Everything checked out.

He carefully maneuvered the arms into position to grab the body, then pulled it into the airlock. When recompression had occurred, he went in and noticed the vacc suit seeming to oscillate slightly. As he moved closer, he could see that it wasn’t his vision playing tricks on him. He took a portable microscope out of a small compartment in the airlock, and zoomed in on the suit.

The nanos were active, all right.

But these weren’t ordinary ten-year-old nanos from a vacc suit. Something had happened to them.

Putting these thoughts aside, he placed the microscope back into the tool compartment and cautiously deactivated the suit’s helmet. As it pulled back, a human face appeared. The face of an unconscious person, not a dead one.

Captain First Class Elsee Tamarillho opened her eyes and knocked Heggson out with a firm blow.

-----END OF PROLOGUE-----

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

Comments please? I like comments..... good OR bad!



---------------PART TWO: THE ABYSS---------------


-----CHAPTER ONE: SPIRITUS EX MACHINA-----

When Heggson regained consciousness several minutes later, he’d got a splitting headache and a major problem. He saw Tamarillho was not in the airlock anymore. OK. Two major problems. He saw she locked him in the airlock and disabled the comms panels in the airlock, and she took his. Three major problems. He looked in the tool compartment. No cutting torch. And anyway, there shouldn’t be a cutting torch here. He did, however, see a DHK-19 reactive interference device.

A super-flexible bouncing ball.

Oh well. At least they’d detect it from the bridge.

He immediately regretted using the ball after he’d thrown it at one side of the airlock. It now bounced all across the airlock with speeds exceeding that of the average interceptor.

By the time his crew got him out of the airlock, he had a splitting headache, two major problems and several hundred newly-acquired bruises. The DHK-19 needed to be destroyed by a round from a security guard’s rifle.

“Lock down all shuttle bays and lifeboat docks! I want security sweeps of the entire ship! Initiate broad-band wide-range internal scan! Now!”
“Sir?”
“We’ve got a ten-years-dead officer running around on the ship!”
“What?!?”
“You heard me! We’ve picked up Tamarillho!”

*****

Commander (as she still saw herself) Tamarillho, meanwhile, was pretty much panicking wildly. She had expected to find a shuttle bay near the airlock, but she couldn’t find one. On top of that, judging from the sounds of the reactor, the engines and some other device, she was headed for the inside of the ship, not the outside, where the shuttle bays, the lifeboat docks and her escape were. She knew she was captured, but by whom she had no idea. It must obviously be a ship in league with whomever ordered the Kent into the Devonshire system.

But why was the ship so empty?

And why did it look so strange?

It was like no ship she’d ever been on or seen images or design schematics of. The corridor she stood in looked like a normal starship corridor alright, but more modern. And what was this strange thing about the layout? She couldn’t make out at all where the hell on the ship she was, except for the fact that she knew she was headed to the inside of the ship. For all she knew, she was on a ship that wasn’t even known to the Commonwealth.

And speaking about strange things, what was the blue stuff outside the airlock’s outer seals?

*****

“We’ve got her! Human form in a nano-vacc suit headed roughly to the power room! Sector neg-B pos-5, C-deck!”
“Security to C-deck, sectors neg-C to neg-A, pos-4 to pos-6!”
“Team Beta here! We’ve spotted her!”
“Confirmed, Beta’s in neg-B pos-5 C-deck too, sir!”
“Apprehend her! Do not use lethal force!”
“Yessir! C’mon! Go go go go go!”

*****

Tamarillho was panting heavily. She was being chased by a detachment of security guards, with heavy rifles it seemed. Where the hell was she? How did she know there wasn’t another security detachment around the corner, waiting for her to run into their outstretched arms?

Answer: she didn’t. She did know, however, that if she stopped running, she’d certainly be killed, and she didn’t want that to happen.

So, she kept running, despite the fact that she was almost out of breath, and her legs were buckling below her.

Correction, her legs collapsed below her.

*****

“We’ve got her! Seems like she’s too exhausted to put up a fight!”
“Take her to the briefing room.”
“Roger.”

*****

Tamarillho was still exhausted when the guards took, almost carried, her into what seemed to be the briefing room of the ship. Sitting at the head of the briefing table was the same lieutenant she knocked out in the airlock. He had several rather large bruises in his face. She knew for certain she didn’t have that much power in her fists.

“Captain, take a seat.”

It took a while for her to process the fact that by Captain, the lieutenant meant her. She took a seat hesitatingly, then, once she was sure it wasn’t rigged with high explosives, crashed into the seat and slumped heavily.

“Do you know what has happened since your..... err..... demise?”
“Wh... wh... why?”
“Do you have any idea how long it has been since you rammed that Kent?”
“What... what do you mean?”
“Captain, you died when you rammed an unidentified modifier Kent warship threatening a civilian evac convoy..... ten years ago.”

Her mouth fell open as she tried to process what this young man had just said.

“Ten..... ten..... ten years?”
“Ten years.”
“But..... but how..... why.....”
“We don’t know. We just detected you in the Devonshire warp point.”
“But that’s not possible! You can’t read data from a scanner while you’re blued out!”
“That’s the beauty of this ship; it’s the first civilian – no, civilitary actually – ship with the new Tanner-shift compensators.”
“Tanner-shift what? Civilitary? What the hell are you talking about?!?”
“Tanner-shift compensators generate an insulation field that keeps the crew of the ship from bluing out.”
“Oh. But what about this..... civilitary thing?”
“Civilitary is a new phrase. After your run-in with that Kent, CC decided freighters needed more weaponry. This is the first ship that is a “hybrid” freighter-warship. It’s built like a freighter, and serves as a freighter, but has the firepower and armor of a smaller warship, and if necessary can serve as defence if there’s a sudden attack on the system.”
“So they’re going to refit the entire merchant fleet to become warships?”
“Not warships, heavily-armed freighters. But yes, in several decades the entire merchant fleet is going to be this heavily armed.”

*****

After several hours of getting up to speed with events and advances in the ten years of her death, Tamarillho went to her assigned quarters (the captain’s quarters, vacated by Heggson after her arrival – completely voluntarily, but with some regret) deeply in thought.

Ten years. Ten years. She still couldn’t comprehend it. Had it really been that long? And how did she come back to life? And what was the business with the nanos in her suit? Something strange was going on here. Definitely. Something very strange.

-----END OF CHAPTER ONE-----

[rdouglass]

I like this story much. Every installment leaves a good dose of anticipation. Glad you brought Tamarillho "back from the dead" but somehow I suspect there's a lot more to it.

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

As it is, as you've not got a mortal enemy, Narf is your immortal enemy..... hmmmm..... AAAAAGGGHHH!!!!! (runs)

[Strategia_In_Ultima]

Hey! Another update! Finally!



-----CHAPTER SIX: DEEP LEGACY-----

Tamarillho felt utterly secure as she approached the Devonshire warp point. She had told her computer to warn her in case of any approaching ships. On her way here, she raided an unmanned ammo depository in the asteroid belt, restocking her seismic charges and cluster torpedoes. Nothing could stop her now, short of the warp point suddenly and inexplicably collapsing on itself, which was plainly impossible astrophysically speaking.

She had checked the fact that the fighter was jump-capable and equipped with Tanner-shift compensators.

She reached the warp point’s event horizon.

Suddenly, she was standing on a plateau of rock, approximately thirty meters in diameter, surrounded by fog and smoke.

*****

“REPORT!!!” Commodore Ghettex bellowed. The grandson of Grand Admiral Ghettex, CC member, commanded the defense forces in and around the Kytheran System Asteroid Belt. He just heard he’d lost all of his brand-new Hunter fighters to one stolen prototype fighter piloted by a fugitive that had returned from the dead some days previous.

“I dunno how she did it, but she managed to outmaneuver and outfight all of our Hunters. Long-range scanners suggests she even went inside an asteroid, how she managed to come out alive I don’t know, but I think she dropped a seismic charge or two in it. We’ve got a chain reaction, think like a nuclear fission bomb only then with asteroids instead of atoms.”
“Pull out all ships in the Belt! Now! Estimated time till total destruction?”
“My guess is three weeks.”
“Any rocks headed our way?”
“Nope. Not now, anyway.”
“Commodore!” the station’s comms officer called. “Incoming call from Central Command!”

Great, he thought. I’d best start packing now.

*****

Tamarillho looked around, but everywhere thick white fog surrounded her. The platform seemed to dive straight downwards at the edges, but she didn’t feel the need to check it. She couldn’t have, anyway; when she tried to walk around, she found that her feet failed to respond. She had completely lost control of her lower body.

Then, suddenly, a deep, resounding voice burst through the ominous silence.

“Captain. We have been expecting you.”

*****

Commodore Ghettex didn’t need to pack after all, though a CC liaison officer would be placed on his bridge, limiting his freedom to act. He also got some replacement fighters – not Hunters, this time, but normal, manned fighters, also designed for asteroid work. He – or rather his scanners officer – informed Central Command that the asteroid belt was disintegrating, but the fighters were stationed in his base anyway – after the disintegration, the belt would still exist, only then in smaller fragments, which were wider apart. It would still be too tricky for regular Heavy Interceptors.

On an impulse, Jurihaan Ghettex III shouted across his bridge:
“Get me a fighter! I’m going after her!”

*****

“Expecting me? But..... how? Why?”
“It will be explained to you. First, let me tell you the history of the human race.”
“I know that. I’ve studied it myself.”
“The real history of the human race.”

*****

His engineers having just finished rigging a standard DT-13 Fasthawk heavy interceptor with Tanner-shift compensators, beefed-up engines and an increased weapons loadout, Commodore Ghettex climbed into his newly-appointed personal fightercraft and took off. It took him only a few seconds to reacquaint himself with the controls and handling of the fast fighter. “Six years in the Space Fighter Force are finally paying off,” he muttered to himself as he veered past a large chunk of rock and iron in the process of getting hit by a smaller chunk of rock and iron and splitting apart into similarly-sized chunks of rock and iron, which would then move on to impact against other chunks of rock and iron.

Zig-zagging through a more stable region of the asteroid belt, he sometimes still had to evade flying debris from asteroids which had been hit suddenly. He sometimes saw one or more miner-bots falling prey to the explosion, exploding themselves or flying away spinning.

As he cleared the belt, Ghettex opened up the throttle and kicked in the afterburners, speeding to the Devonshire Warp Point with such a speed that if he would have hit anything which was not moving he’d explode with the force of a multi-gigaton fusion nuke. Two thirds of the way to the warp point, he activated the retro-thrusters to reduce his speed so that he would fly into the transpace tunnel and not be launched into a different dimension, as was known to happen at certain speeds, relative to the size of the object going through.

“Approaching warp point. See you on the other side!”
“Sir, please remember that you can only fire direct-fire projectile weapons while in the tunnel! Missiles won’t work and energy weapons will only destabilize the tunnel!”
“I know, I know. See you later.”

A blue flash later he disappeared from the scanners and entered the transpace tunnel.

*****

“What do you mean, the real history of the human race?”
“You think the human race has originated on Earth, right?”
“Why?”
“Because Earth was once just a remote border colony of the Human Confederation.”
“What?!?”
“The planet Humana lies – lay – near the Galactic Core. The planet was half the size of Jupiter; it had a warmer climate than Earth. The human race evolved there. The Confederation once controlled 80% of the Galaxy when-” A sigh.
“When what?”

*****

Scanning the transpace tunnel, Ghettex discovered a small blip in the distance.
“HA! Got you now!” he shouted aloud to the softly humming instruments in the crowded cockpit.

Taking his chances, he locked Tamarillho's fighter as a target and fired a volley with the two rapidfire railguns that were his only weapons in the transpace tunnel. Seeing that every single one of the depleted uranium slugs missed their target by a wide measure, he pushed the throttle to maximum and kicked in his afterburners; and even then he didn't have much of an edge speed-wise over the running thief.

*****

“When the Confederation was at its peak- oh [censored].”
Realizing that these creatures, she wasn't yet prepared to call them “humans”, apparently had great powers, hearing one say “oh [censored]” made for one of the most terrifying moments of her life.
“Some fool is chasing you! In the Gateway Lane!”
“In the what? Wait- chasing me? Oh damn. That's gotta be a task force from New Kythera.”
“No, it's just one fighter – single pilot model, by the looks of it – and it's firing at you.”
“Then lemme get the hell back to my fighter and I'll blast him all over the tunnel!”
“No, we've got a far better way of dealing with situations like this- see you soon.....”

Suddenly, Tamarillho found herself back in her fighter. She lifted her head up from the controls and wiped a spot of drool away. She'd fallen asleep. Apparently the Tanner-shift whatsits in this fighter weren't properly calibrated or someth-

Suddenly, the fighter lurched forward at what had to be relativistic speeds. She was pushed violently back into her chair, and the G-force-meter went haywire, as did the speed indicator. Within seconds she was on the other side of the warp point, something which would normally take days.

*****

Closing in, Ghettex re-locked the fighter in his target reticule, and was just about to pull the trigger in a victorious ecstasy, when the experimental fighter shot forward and disappeared within a second. Reviewing his scanner logs in a rage that would have made his bridge crew jump into the lifeboats and run, he saw that the fighter had reached-

What?

3.0 C?

Three times the speed of LIGHT?!?

That was plainly impossible.

He ran a self-diagnostic on the scanner relays and checked again.

He ran a self-diagnostic on the onboard computer and checked again.

He ran self-diagnostics of every system on the ship up to the oxygen recycling plant, and checked again.

[censored].

Apparently, the experimental fighter had just reached a speed which was, physically speaking, utterly impossible.

-----END OF CHAPTER SIX-----