Authors: Mike McPhail (Ed)
“Good afternoon, Commander,” T-Narn said through the artificial voice box/translator located just above his collar bone. The voice was inhuman in its soft tenor, yet distinctly neutral perfection.
“Same to you, priest T-Narn. I am glad you have decided to come out of isolation.”
“We are at our destination. The sooner we attend to this rescue, the sooner I shall be able to continue to Antares.”
Mendez‘s face grimaced into a frown which quickly vanished as the Eden refinery expanded on the mainscreen.
A metal nightmare, constructed before the fall of the First Alliance as a source of tri-plurainium fuel, and as a bastion against Mephistan encroachment into Or’Dellen space.
It was still a source of tri-plurainium; the fuel that allowed faster than light velocity. However, it was now used by the enemy.
“Wrruan, thrree Mephistan drreadnoughts coming in.”
“Engineering, give me battle speed. Avenger Squadron, prepare to launch. Distance?”
“Two million kilometers,” Vega reported.
“Open fire when ready, Vega. First Lieutenant, stand ready for evasive action. Avengers launch. Do not engage the enemy. I say again. Do not engage the enemy. Head for deep space and come back around using the pincer play. Good luck.”
Aft in the raised triangular appendage known as the Hanger pod, D’Aquilla completed his hurried, but comprehensive checkout of his vessel’s systems. Next to him one of the new people to the 214th, Ensign Loni McCoy. She was large-boned, very athletic, and obviously nervous.
“Say, after the mission, what say we get together in my cabin for some fun and games?”
“I would rather visit the sex surrogate first,” she snapped, adding respectfully: “Sir.”
“It‘s your loss.”
“Avengers launch. Do not engage the enemy. I say again. Do not engage the enemy. Head for deep space and come back around using the pincer play. Good luck.”
“It will be twelve hours before we are in position. Is that guy nuts?” D’Aquilla grumbled while massive cranes moved the gunships into the launch tubes. Condensation formed briefly on the outside windows of the Avengers as air was hurriedly evacuated from the tube.
“Sir,” it was McCoy. There was a peculiar expression on her face.
“The bag is in the compartment on your right, second rack downnnn!”
The Avenger was shot into space by mass drivers of the launching tubes.
As soon as he peeled the back of his face off the chair, he thumbed the intersquadron communicator. “Squadron, this is Flight Leader. Line up on my arse and don’t take your eyes off it until we reach our destination. Do not engage the enemy. Out. You all right now, Loni?”
She nodded once, taking the controls with one hand while wiping the bile from her lips with the other.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you, sir.”
“Forget it, kid. You’ll like my aquabed.”
Loni could not resist a smile as the fifty gunships curved off into the distance.
Back on Arcturia, Mendez heard the figures of the distance between the enemy and his ship shrink continually.
“Fire forward battery,” Mendez ordered to Vega.
Once again, energy leapt across the void, washing over the lead dreadnought. Part of its engineering section vanished, followed by the rest of the ship, in an explosion that damaged the ship flying next to it.
“Arm anti-matter missiles.”
“Anti-matter missiles armed, Commander.”
“Fire.”
A spread of missiles containing twelve kilograms of anti-matter shot into space.
“Now, Vega, hit them at the same time with our cannon.”
The fury released burned out the mainscreen for several seconds.
When the electronic device cleared, only hot plasma floated in space.
“Addams, raise Eden. Inform them that they have one hour to surrender their prisoners, or well will destroy that installation.”
“Rather violent,” T-Narn said aloofly.
Mendez turned sharply. “They started this. We’re going to finish it.”
“I meant no offense, Commander; just making an observation.”
“Understood…“
“Commander,” It was Vega, a note of puzzlement in his voice. “What the ruddy hell is that?”
Mendez instinctively looked at the mainscreen.
Bolts of energy were crackling around the Eden station. A pyrotechnic display that challenged even the brilliance of the recently destroyed dreadnaughts.
“T-Narn, what do you make of that?”
The reptile was already at a computer outlet, using a stylus to punch in information. “I’m reading high gravitational flux; energy level going straight off the scale.”
“An explosion?”
“Negative, Commander. Not the same type of gravity-wave emanation. I suggest evasive action.”
“DeSalle, get us out of here.”
“Thrusters on full reverse.”
“Too late,” L’Prawla shouted as the hand of the unimaginable caught and held the galacticruiser.
Gravity control systems faded for just the briefest of instants, throwing personnel not strapped in across the bridge.
Mendez picked himself off Janice Addams, shouted orders: “Damage control report, L’Prawla. Get Engineering on the horn and tell them to give the thrusters everything they have. We have to break free.”
L’Prawla relayed the orders.
T-Narn, still at the computer terminal thanks to his forewarning, continued to elicit information on the force that held them.
“Tractor field of an advanced design, Commander. It is highly doubtful that this ship could break away even at translight velocity with this field on.”
“In other words, all we’re doing is burning fuel?”
“Affirmative, Commander.”
Mendez walked back to his chair, and thumbed a well-worn button. “Engineering, cut power to engines; maintain null screen and weapon power at all cost.”
“Damage rreported on E and H deck, section one C.M. minorr bulking or waterr tankage. All damage underr repairr. Engineerring rreporrts negative damage. Sickbay rreporrts only minorr injurries.“
“Thank you, L’Prawla. Opinions?”
“We are in a bloody lot of trouble,“ Vega said.
“Thanks you for the in-depth assessment; any suggestions?”
“One Commander; since we are the fly caught by the spider, I suggest that we wait to see what the spider does.”
“Suppose it tried to eat us?” Vega asked.
“Then it can only be hoped that we give it indigestion, Major.”
“Vega, Arm the Vortex Gun and leave it on standby.”
“Sir, at this range we could be trapped by the quantum singularity created by the Vortex Gun.”
“Our prime mission is to take this station out of action. To deny the enemy a fueling base long enough for the Alliance to take further action.” Mendez’s words came out like staccato bullets. He returned to his seat.
“L’Prawla, How long until Squadron is in position to attack?”
“Eleven hourrs, forty-eight minutes.”
“Sir,” Christine said. “We’re being dragged into the Eden station.”
“Engineering, keep those null screens up at all costs,” Mendez said into the chair arm pick up.
“Commander,” T-Narn called form the computer terminal. “Analysis of the hanger we are being drawn into indicates that it is composed of a material ten times stronger than nytronium. It was not an original part of the station; probably an experiment in metallurgy.”
Only a small part of Mendez’s mind listened to the science officer’s report. His foremost attention was focused on the large maintenance hanger they were being drawn into. His mind shouted that his ship would be far too large to fit in the structure.
A minute later they were inside Eden.
“We lost a coat of paint going in, sir,” Christine said glibly. “No other damage.”
“L’Prawla, order the teleporter room to start changing access frequencies. I don’t want them transferring a bomb into the heart of the ship. Ms. Addams, try to raise Eden again. Identify me, and ask for direct communication with General Dirkmann.”
“Sir?” Janice asked.
“Do it. If Dirkmann hasn’t changed then we might have a chance of getting out of this in one piece.”
“Aye, sir,” the woman signed, obviously thinking her Commander was a madman.
“T-Narn. The Order of A has done work in the resonance frequency of this metal. Correct?”
“Affirmative, sir. Do you wish me to ascertain the frequency of this metal?”
“Yes. And adapt our weapons to operate at that frequency. How long should that take?”
“Commander, you are forgetting the tractor field on this ship. If we break free, our journey would be very short.”
“T-Narn, you let me worry about that. How long?”
“Based on the number of probable frequencies, and the amount of work needed to adapt your weapons—ten hours.”
“Get to work, and requisition any personnel you need.”
“Commander,” Vega said. “Vortex Gun armed. Only the keying sequence has to be punched in.”
“Acknowledged,” Mendez replied.
“Sir,” Janice called out. “Message coming in from Eden. Priority channel.”
“Put it on, Ms. Addams,” Mendez said with a grim smile on his face.
The screen coalesced into a hideous, blue, skull-like face topped with a mane of silver crowning an unusually high forehead. Mendez heard strangled gasps of horror from the newer personnel as the image finally stabilized.
“Are you reading me Arcturia?” First General of Or’Delle Carlo Reginald Dirkmann asked with undisguised glee. “Is that really you, Mendez? After all of these years?”
“Janice, reverse screen. Let that cretin see me.”
Dirkmann’s face brightened instantly. “It is you. My good friend Juan Carlos Mendez. It‘s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Mendez agreed. “I should have finished you when I had the chance.”
“You were always sentimental,” Dirkmann sighed. “And a fool. I have your ship trapped. I could destroy it at anytime.”
“You wouldn’t dare. This hanger might be stronger than nytronium, but if we detonated our anti-matter reactors the resulting energy—”
“But you won’t. You don’t have the guts to sacrifice your crew. Your ship.”
“I’ll make a deal with you…”
“You are going to deal with me?”
“Listen to me, damnit. Allow me to come aboard Eden. Allow me to check the condition of the hostages. If they are still alive, I personally will carry back your demands.”