Linkage: The Narrows of Time (33 page)

“Didn’t we just fire-up a refinery on
Neethian-6?” Bruno asked.

“Yes, two months ago. The engineers finally
solved how to safely extract the volatile ididium deposits,” Nellis
replied.

“Someone must have lit a match,” Heller said
from the helm.

“This is going to severely cripple our E-121
production,” Benner said.

“Captain, I’m detecting a series of subspace
distortions in and around the debris field. They appear to be
localized fractures in space-time and they’re drifting in space
like icebergs.”

“Sir, if one of them comes in contact with
the engine core, it will cause a breach in containment,” Bruno
said.

“Plot a course around them, Mr. Heller,”
Kleezebee said.

“Acknowledged. Adjusting course to
compensate.”

“Sir, should I launch a micro-probe into one
of the fractures to investigate?” Nellis asked.

“There isn’t time. Best speed to Neethian-3,”
Kleezebee said. “Bring the forward plasma cannons online.”

It wasn’t long before the main viewer showed
a blue-and-white planet growing larger by the second.

“Approaching Neethian-3, sir,” Heller
said.

“Standard orbit, Mr. Heller.”

“Captain, I’m not picking up any other
vessels in the area,” Nellis reported.

“Cancel tactical alert, but keep the shields
up,” Kleezebee commanded. “Open a channel.”

“Open, sir,” Blake replied.

“Colony Three-Five-Nine, this is Captain
Kleezebee of the science vessel
Trinity
. We received your
distress call and are standing by in orbit to assist.”

The bridge crew waited for a response, none
came.

Kleezebee repeated his hail a second time.
Once again, there was no response from the colony.

“Bio-signs?” Kleezebee asked Nellis.

“Scanning, sir . . . none detected.”

“Scan the surface for trace signatures.”

“No plant or animal life . . . no vegetation
. . . no structures detected anywhere on the planet.”

“Could our sensors be malfunctioning?”

“Running a Level One diagnostic,” she said.
“Sensors are working perfectly.”

“What about atmospheric interference?”

She shook her head.

“Perhaps we should send a landing party to
investigate?” Bruno asked.

“Surface conditions?” Kleezebee asked
Nellis.

“Radiation and temperature are within
acceptable levels. The atmosphere is . . . breathable.”

“Assemble a team,” Kleezebee told Bruno.

Bruno hurried to the jump pad. “Lieutenant
Nellis, you’re with me. Mr. Blake, have Dr. McKnight and a security
detail meet us in Jump Bay Two.”

Bruno stopped in Outfitting on his way to the
jump bay, changing out of his uniform and into his desert fatigues.
He was looking forward to the
Trinity
’s first official away
mission, something a science vessel rarely had the opportunity to
do.

Bruno transported down to the surface with
six other members of the crew, and found himself standing in the
middle of a vast, barren wasteland, which stretched off as far as
he could see in all directions. The planet’s surface was charcoal
black, as if it had been scorched by something.

The four security officers fanned out and
stood guard around the landing site, with their backs to Bruno, Dr.
McKnight, and Lt. Nellis.

“Are we in the right place?” the elderly Dr.
McKnight asked, repositioning his medical satchel over his right
shoulder.

“We’re standing in what should be the center
of the settlement,” Nellis said.

“I thought the colony was surrounded by a
mountain range.”

“It was.”

“There goes the neighborhood,” McKnight
said.

Bruno knelt down to scoop up a sample of the
black film covering the entire area. He rubbed the powdery
substance between his fingers. “What is this stuff?”

Nellis tested a sample with her handheld
M-Spec scanner. “I’m not detecting any organic or chemical
compounds whatsoever. It’s as if this powder isn’t there.”

Bruno raised his fingers to his nose. “Smells
like citrus. How is that possible?”

“Unknown, sir,” she replied, putting a sample
of the material into a travel container.

“Scan the area for life signs.”

She adjusted her scanner’s settings, then
held the device up while slowly turning in a circle. “Other than
the seven of us, there’s nothing organic within a
two-hundred-kilometer radius.”

“Nothing?” McKnight asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not reading any
plant or animal life.”

“What about chemical signatures?” Bruno
asked.

“None, sir.”

“Could something natural have caused
this?”

“Unlikely. There would be some form of trace
evidence.”

“Then it must be some type of attack.”

“It’s possible; however, I’m not detecting
any residual power signatures or elevated radiation.”

“Do you suspect the bugs?” McKnight asked
Bruno. “We’re practically in their backyard.”

“If it’s the Krellian Empire, they’re back
with some new type of weapon we haven’t seen before. Something
capable of leveling entire planets, topography and all.”

“I knew I should have packed more than one
gallon of Extermin8,” McKnight said.

“We should report this to the captain,”
Nellis said.

Bruno nodded, activating the communications
device on his wrist. “Bruno to
Trinity
.”

“Go ahead,” Kleezebee replied.

“Sir, there’s no sign of the colony and our
scans have been indeterminate. There’s some type of black film
covering the entire area, but nothing else remains. We suspect it
might be some type of Krellian attack.”

“Collect your team and return to the
ship.”

“Aye, sir.”

* * *

After transporting back to the ship, Bruno
changed into his uniform before returning to his post on the
bridge. When he stepped off the jump pad, he wished he had arrived
a minute sooner.

“Shields at maximum. Weapons hot,” Nellis
reported.

“Stay alert, people,” Kleezebee said, looking
over his shoulder at Bruno. Kleezebee’s eyes told Bruno to take his
position at the tactical station.

“Mr. Blake, send a data burst to Fleet with
today’s mission log,” Kleezebee said.

“Aye, Captain.”

“I’m picking up a buildup in tachyon
particles, two hundred thousand meters off the port bow,” Nellis
reported.

“On viewer.”

The screen changed to show a patch of stars
vacillating, as if they were being viewed through the bottom of a
glass boat. Moments later, the same area of space began to change,
fading in an enormous hive ship, at least a thousand times the size
of the
Trinity
. It looked like a giant green honeycomb with
hundreds of identical octagon cells, each roughly the size of the
Trinity
. A web of yellow energy connected the eight sides of
each cell with its neighbor.

“Sir, that’s a Krellian destroyer, and she’s
on an intercept course,” Nellis said.

“Hail them,” Kleezebee said.

“No response, sir,” Blake said.

The Krellian ship splintered into dozens of
smaller cell groupings, spreading out and flanking the
Trinity
as they approached.

“Captain, someone’s tapped into our main
computer . . . they’re accessing our data core,” Nellis said.

“Can you shut them out?”

“Attempting to isolate the core and encrypt
the network interface—“ Nellis said. “Got it!”

“How much did they get?”

“A hundred percent of the medical and
historical databases, but it looks like we stopped them before they
downloaded our tactical and scientific data banks.”

“They’re charging weapons!” Bruno reported,
activating the tactical alert siren from his console.

“Which one?” Kleezebee asked.

“All of them, sir.”

“Evasive maneuvers!”

The enemy ships opened fire, sending a
barrage of blue energy bursts streaming at the left side of
Trinity’s bow. The ship rocked hard to starboard.

“Minor damage on Deck Twelve. Shields down to
sixty-two percent,” Nellis said. “Looks like they’re targeting
engineering.”

“Return fire, full spread.”

The forward battery of plasma cannons
discharged, sending a torrent of energy pulses at the advancing
enemy ships, striking several of them center mass.

“Multiple hits,” Bruno said.

“Minor fluctuation in their power grids, but
no detectable damage, sir,” Nellis said.

The Krellian swarm fired a second volley,
hammering the
Trinity
with even more force than before.
Blake’s communication console erupted into fire, searing his left
hand and wrist. He screamed in pain.

“Medical team to the bridge,” Kleezebee
shouted.

“Sick bay’s not responding, sir,” Nellis
replied.

Several more salvos hit the ship, each time
jolting the ship farther off course.

“Shields down to twenty-seven percent.
Bulkheads buckling on Deck Twelve, Section Four,” Nellis
shouted.

“Remodulate shields, continuing firing all
batteries,” Kleezebee said. “Attack pattern omega.”

Bruno fired the forward and port cannons.
“Direct hits, sir.”

“Enemy shields still at maximum,” Nellis
said.

The ship’s communication system came on.
“Engineering to the captain. We’re close to losing containment down
here. The reactor’s nearing critical.”

“Captain, we have no choice but to withdraw,”
Bruno said. “We can’t take any more of this pounding.”

The ship was hit again, and again. Kleezebee
sat motionless in his command chair.

“Captain!” Bruno shouted, trying to get his
boss to act.

“Mr. Heller, hard to starboard,” Kleezebee
said. “Lieutenant Nellis, activate the rift projector.”

“But sir, it hasn’t been fully tested,” she
replied.

“We don’t have a choice. Energize it now,
while we still have the power. Set destination coordinates for
Earth.”

“Aye, sir,” Nellis replied, furiously
entering commands into her station’s console. “Projector charged
and online.”

“Coordinates set for Sector zero-zero-zero,”
Heller said.

A vertical rift began to form directly in
front of the ship, resembling a crumpled white envelope being
opened lengthwise in space, growing wider with each passing second.
The beams of light flooding through from the other side were almost
blinding.

“Take us in,” Kleezebee shouted, just as the
Krellians hit them with another onslaught. The bridge crew stumbled
to the right, like crab fishermen battling a rising swell.

“Hull breach on Deck Seven, venting
atmosphere,” Nellis said.

“Entering rift,” Heller reported.

The
Trinity
was walloped again.

“Shields are down,” Nellis said.

“Maintain course and speed,” Kleezebee
said.

“Captain, we’ve been boarded,” Nellis
said.

“Location?”

“Deck Twelve, Engineering.”

“They must be after our E-121 supply,” Bruno
replied.

“Dispatch security teams.”

The Krellians fired again, missing the ship,
but bombarding the rift’s event horizon with blue energy.

“Their weapons are overloading the rift . . .
it’s destabilizing,” Nellis said, right before an electrical
discharge arced across the bridge between the active duty stations,
knocking her, Blake, and the helmsman to the deck.

The bolt continued through Kleezebee’s torso
and pierced Bruno’s neck, completing its circuit by connecting to
the power supply installed under the base of the jump pad.
Kleezebee lost consciousness.

Chapter
25

Relics

Kleezebee woke up slumped over in the
captain’s chair with the right side of his face being showered by
salt water pouring through a rupture in the bulkhead above the
bridge. A salmon-sized fish smacked his cheek before glancing off
his thigh and sliding across the deck plating into a pool of water
near the communication officer’s station.

The only equipment active on the bridge was
the emergency lighting system; everything else appeared to be
offline, including the main viewer, which was hanging off the wall,
slanted to the left. He could no longer feel the judder of the
pulse drive engines through the floor, meaning they were running on
battery reserves.

Bruno was sitting to his right but moving
sluggishly. The rest of the bridge crew lay motionless near their
duty stations.

“We need to evacuate the ship,” Kleezebee
said, helping Bruno off the deck.

“Do you think we made it home, Skipper?”

“We’ll soon find out.”

Nellis was to Kleezebee’s right, on the other
side of Bruno, lying on her back with her legs twisted to one side.
Her chest was expanding and contracting. “See if you can revive the
lieutenant.”

Bruno nodded.

Kleezebee sidestepped his way around debris
to the other side of bridge where he found Blake lying on his left
side with his feet submerged in the water accumulating around his
station. He slid Blake’s body uphill, dragging it away from the
rising water level. He checked Blake’s vitals, finding a pulse, but
it was accelerated, possibly due to the burn injuries sustained
earlier. He shook his communications officer, then rapped him on
the cheek. Blake finally opened his eyes.

“Easy does it, Chuck; you took a pretty good
jolt. How do you feel?”

“The pain’s manageable, sir. I’ll be all
right,” Blake replied, holding up his burned arm as Kleezebee
helped him up.

“Sound the emergency evacuation alarm. We
need to get everyone off the ship.”

“Aye, Captain,” Blake replied.

The general alarm sounded with Stella’s
computer voice telling the crew to abandon ship.

Heller was face down with his head and left
shoulder lying under a toppled station chair. Kleezebee uncovered
his helmsman and rolled him over on his back, only to find that
Heller’s face had been badly disfigured from the electrical burns.
“Dave, can you hear me?”