The Crimson Fleet was the reason why. They embodied the evil portion of humanity’s duality that the Indra knew was harbored in all species. The cyborgs’ destiny was decided by a combination of personal chemistry and choice. The pestilence of societal murderers and thieves existed because evolution dictated that not only the smartest like Tara survived, but strongest and most brutal as well. The Crimson Fleet was the latter type of mutation; a degeneration that marched ever backwards into primal chaos, rapped in the auspices of what was thought to be advanced technology and the official linen of abusive political authority.
The Indra had seen their kind many times before. These regressive deviants deliberately invaded territory under the guise of furthering their research in scientific knowledge or professing military defensive measures in order to exterminate sub-species, steal natural resources, or to extend their control well beyond their own borders. Always their egos’ need for recognition and gain drove this rationalized destruction by unrestrained emotions that guided their self-serving actions. But here it was not so—for the Indra made it that way. And the Indra now meant to stand as a roadblock to this fleet of cyborg decay, while nurturing the hopeful beginning of a race not much unlike their own.
* * * * *
Even with the help of the Indra, however, bad luck still plagued the colonists. Tara ordered another jump into hyperspace to take advantage of the alien distraction. But as they prepared to make the jump, the hyper-engines on two ships malfunctioned—and then failed. Age and wear on the old crafts initiated the problem, sending the inter-dimension engines into a safety shutdown mode.
Although she wanted to disperse the small fleet, it wasn’t within her to leave the stricken vessels behind. And using a magnetic tow was completely out of the question. The ships were old and being pushed just too hard for any attempt in using the mechanisms that was more than risky.
Hyperspace travel required constant movement through its dimension by means of ships encased in a rotating magnetic field. If a tow were to break, the distressed vessel would immediately lose all forward movement, becoming a phantom held motionless forever in a black tomb. Unless it was destroyed by a direct inter-dimensional collision from a jump initiated at that very point, this fate was very much assured.
Tara was not about to condemn the lives aboard the two transports to this. For the time being, Tara kept her ships on a steady course, hoping either to lose the Crimson Fleet in the depths of the system or forcing them to abandon their chase.
* * * * *
Admiral Selena Darius held different ideas, however. She was resolute on not aborting her mission because of “seven miserable alien ships” blocking her way. Regardless of how much the Indra were technologically advanced, she still held an ace up her sleeve: the new battle matrix system.
“Computer, ready the battle matrix system!” Selena ordered.
“By your command,” the artificial intelligence responded.
Trager turned to a humming that suddenly resonated behind him. The officer then noticed that the energy pulses through the tubes of each huma-droid steadily increased their flow at a rapid rate. The gases, which were trapped within their orbs of glass, began to glow a luminous green. He then realized that ions were reaching a saturated state in preparation of the equipment’s usage.
Selena smiled wickedly as a domed pedestal raised itself from the deck to the right of her command chair. After the pillar had extended to its full height, the dome opened, revealing headgear similar to a tiara crown. Darius’ smile broadened into a mask of total satisfaction before reaching for and then placing the crown upon her own head.
Trager just simply watched with downcast eyes. Having run through training on the system, Trager knew that the aliens were in for a nasty surprise.
“Has the battle matrix been made-ready?” Selena quizzed the ship’s main computer.
“The matrix is ready and all ships have been brought online,” the command and control computer replied emotionlessly.
Selena’s mouth then formed a snarl. “Activate!” her voice was tainted with pure anger and revenge.
A moment later, the computer that was merged with Selena’s brain dissolved away the bridge in her mind, and she beheld all the space around the Quinton. Her mind’s eye perfectly visualized the Indra vessels as well as all of her own ships in flawless 3 dimension. Distance, positions, targeting information; the flood of knowledge was enormous. But her cyborg brain automatically comprehended and guided every aspect of the situation at the speed of thought. It was like being—God.
From the commands given by her thoughts alone, the Crimson Fleet robotically formed a huge wall of ships. They were stacked one upon the other and rigidly held their positions within the precise formation. The armada then swiftly began to advance towards the Indra as the weapon systems of the Earth ships energized.
Trager stole a quick glance at Julie Morris’ head. He wondered if any part of her real mind was still alive—and knew what she was about to become a part of. Trager, himself, became a mere spectator to the impending battle as he manned his scanner.
Suddenly, a flowing transparent current of plasma energy materialized just in front of the Earth vessels. It was as a blue river, glittering as it moved as though parts of it were solidified ice. The aliens were not sure of what was taking place, but it did not matter to them. As soon as the Crimson Fleet came within range—the Indra fired.
Great energy bolts from each of the Indra ships streaked away and cut through the space between them and the Crimson Fleet. They traveled unswervingly and with one intention—annihilation. The energy bolts finally impacted seconds later against the blue plasma field that stood between them and their intended targets.
The magnitude of the force from the strike erupted in a gigantic and radiant blast that matched the greatest flares of Tibula. As the energy dissipated and sensors cleared to report, the Indra were astounded. Not one of the Earth ships was damaged. It was apparent that the entire energy of the Earth fleet was concentrated as an interweaved shield. This allowed the shield to stretch and distort, but at the same time, it did not permit any penetration by energy or any physical object. It acted like a giant bulletproof vest. And the Indra now realized that the certainty of a counter-strike would soon be on its way.
Once the last of the energy from the Indra’s attack had spent itself against her shield, Selena’s mind immediately dropped the force field and fired the weapons of her entire fleet together. At same moment, the Indra ships maneuvered away erratically in different directions to escape. For most of them, however, it was not enough.
Although the inter-dimensional skins of the alien ships could disperse a few laser hits, they were not designed to take a massive and precise bombardment over a great length of time. With a constant bombardment of laser and ion weapon strikes impacting over a span minutes, the Indra ships blew apart in miniature super-nova like explosions—all but one. Protected mainly by its six sister ships, the alien vessel still sustained some damage. This was evident in a clear breach of the hull, besides losing its luminescent glow. With little or no power, it casually drifted away. The cold–gray alien ship was now at the mercy of a ruthless enemy—who bore none.
The pseudo goddess, Selena Darius, was most pleased with how this had turned out. Not only was she a hyper-jump away from obliterating the Martians, but her promotion and a hero’s welcome was guaranteed when she towed this alien ship back to Earth. New technology awaited the reverse engineering of her dismantled Indra trophy, while she believed that it served to demonstrate Earth’s superiority to the rest of the galaxy. Regardless that these actions fostered the seeds of a new and terrible war, Selena’s seat on the Supreme Defense Council and the destruction of the Martians were all that motivated the woman cyborg.
* * * * *
Aboard each of the colonist’s spacecraft, the earlier bedlam settled into the bleakest hollow of gloom. Some crying and occasio
nal praying rose above the heavy murkiness of silence at times. With all hope gone, the reality was slowly grasped by every mind. Death was only moments away, sealed by the cruel hands of the barbarous enemy that had stalked them. Sorrow drew a curtain around the tiny fleet. There was no point in trying to escape in life pods, for they offered only a few more moments of extended existence.
With no other alternative, Tara ordered the fleet to disperse. However, the Ariana slowed slightly to do what it could to draw fire away from the two crippled ships. It was a fool’s plan the woman thought, deserving of her stupidity and trust in believing that the Martians would come. The mutants were monsters in the eyes of every “normal” human, Tara tearfully admitted in her mind. How could she let herself suppose otherwise, she thought.
The colonist formation broke apart, readying themselves for the final order. Tara paused, while gathering her strength to give it. Suddenly, a claxon sounded on the bridge of the Ariana, as sensors cautioned to a disturbance in the space-time continuum. Several jump fields were forming behind colonist fleet. Tara and the rest of her bridge crew held their breaths.
* * * * *
On the bridge of the Quinton, the defense system alerted Selena’s mind to a new and possible impending threat. Eight ships were coming out of hyperspace, and somewhat close to the drifting Indra vessel. For a moment, the system delayed, but as the ships totally emerged, a clear identification was made—Martian warships: Eight Dolphin class destroyers and their weapons were energized.
Selena laughed in her mind. She conjured up a replay of the battle with the Indra, letting the Martians spend their ordinance, drawing them in close and finally exterminating them before they knew what happened. The blue plasma shield came up once again.
* * * * *
“MARTIAN SHIPS! MARTIAN SHIPS!” bellowed the sensor crewman of the Ariana ecstatically.
A loud cheer rose on the freighter’s bridge as it did through the other colonist’s ships. “Thank God!” someone yelled out from the back of the crowd. Even Martin smiled in relief.
Tara placed a hand to her face as tears of joy streamed out of her eyes. She cried with the innocence of a child while her mind saw a sudden vision of a mighty and noble knight charging in to defend her against a truly malevolent and evil dragon. True to his word, Wakinyan and his eight Martian destroyers had arrived.
* * * * *
Selena halted her fleet and waited for the Martians to attack. However, someone else did not take the time to pause. Trager also noted the appearance of the Wakinyan’s destroyers on his scanner. The command officer of the Quinton knew it was now or never to be rid himself of this evil ship and the “thing” that commanded it.
“Damn scanner!” Trager suddenly mouthed loudly as he quickly knelt down and opened a service compartment in pretense of repairing a malfunction. Instead, his hands quickly fumbled the parts of an electron ion pistol together. It was placed there in pieces over time to avoid detection, while giving him the needed excuse to retrieve it.
* * * * *
“MISSLES, AWAY!” Wakinyan commanded the squadron of Dolphin class destroyers. A moment later, a wave of anti-ship missiles flooded the space in front of the attacking Martian warships and streaked for the Crimson Fleet.
* * * * *
Selena anxiously waited as a hunger spider waited for a fly. In less than a minute, “these obsolete Martian garbage scowls would be just a memory,” her mind echoed in a chuckle.
With a quick slap of his palm, Trager banged the power pack into the hand weapon—and then set it to kill. For a moment, his head turned and gazed hatefully at Selena. She, however, was locked in a trace and was oblivious to everything on the bridge. Trager then turned to his communicator and punched the buttons “3-7-7” in rapid sequence. His finger then tapped the send button.
In a deafening and fiery detonation, the power converters of the Quinton blew themselves apart along with a small section of its hull. As the massive explosion rocked the Earth battleship, power to the lighting and equipment became nonexistent or sporadic. It was then that Trager stood up and raked the huma-droids with ion fire before anyone knew what was happening. Every glass dome cracked open and disintegrated while secondary energy explosions and fires lit up the bridge.
The tiara crown upon Selena’s head suddenly began to arc and sizzle in bluish white bands of electricity, while a scent of burning carbon filled the air. Selena screamed in horrific, agonizing pain as she dropped to the deck grabbing at stinging crown, trying instinctively to pull it off her head. The pain, however, was searing and overwhelming. She rolled over in unconsciousness as her two android guards turned and began shooting at Trager.
The firefight was so intense that it filled the chamber in the smoke and flame of detonating equipment. In a running gun battle across the bridge, Trager made his way to the hatchway. Damaging one of the machines just as it wounded his arm; he opened the hatch and dashed through.
With a smack of his fist on a nearby button, the massive hatch closed itself. Trager then shot the controls, and ran down the corridor. Making his way to an elevator, he knew that it was still operating off of the emergency power grid system, which had snapped on. Brushing its floor sensor, the man paused while he waited for the doors to open.
Holding his wounded arm, he looked solemnly back towards the bridge. “Rest in peace, Julie!” the man’s eyes watered in momentarily grief and respect. His sadness was short-lived, as the elevator doors opened and allowed him to escape.
The damage to the Quinton was perfectly timed as well as paralyzing. With no power, the battle matrix system of the Quinton went offline, taking the blue plasma shield with it. And as the missiles from the Martian destroyers approached, the ships of the Crimson Fleet stood powerless and frozen to the will of their own locked computers. The very same matrix mode that had given them victory against the Indra now opened a door of vulnerability and destruction.
Earth crews frantically raced to override the locked computers and restore manual control, but it were too late. The missiles sought out and exploded among the massive formation. Targeted Earth ships were ripped apart or were pushed into other ships. Debris ricocheted off of or pierced hulls, as terror immediately set in among the crews. But this was only the beginning of the attack. The Martians quickly followed with a laser fire barrage. Panic in the Earth fleet grew.
* * * * *
“I don’t get it?” Randall was befuddled. “Why aren’t they shooting back?”
For a moment, Wakinyan considered his friend’s comment. He too did not understand the lack of response from the Earth vessels.
“I don’t know, but it’s too easy. Anyway, we came here to complete a mission,” Wakinyan knew better than to tempt fate. “Signal all ships to immediately break off.”
Upon his order, the Martian ships ceased firing and suddenly swerved into another direction. They sped quickly out of range of any enemy weapons, and made a course straight for the colonist fleet.
The communication’s crewman then turned to his ranking officer. “Hailing frequencies to the Ariana are open, Sir.”
Richard nodded an acknowledgement. “Right Guard to Covered Wagon. Right Guard to Covered Wagon. Do you copy, over?” he called to the Ariana.
“We copy, Right Guard!” Tara’s voice joyfully replied. “Thank God you’re here! We have several ships that are damaged and can’t make the jump into hyperspace.”
“How many?” Richard questioned.
“Two,” she informed.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take them in tow,” he reassured.
“Wakinyan, there’s something else. The aliens—they protected us! There’s only one ship left now!” Tara was concerned for the welfare of her unknown guardians.
“We’ll do what we can, Captain. Prepare to get the hell out of here! Wakinyan, out.”
Randall just stood and folded his arms. “So, what are we going to do?”
br /> “Signal Denko. Have him take four destroyers with him and tow those crippled ships to Valamars, and that includes the alien vessel,” Richard was precise.
However, Randall felt a little uneasy about his friend’s decision. “The Indra aren’t exactly the most friendliest race in the galaxy. I think your taking a big risk.”
Wakinyan, however, thought differently. “I don’t think so. They could have left out people to die, but they didn’t. For that, we owe them. Who ever they are—what ever they are, we owe them.”
With a smile, Randall conceded. “So what’s the plan?”
Wakinyan’s face then changed to stone. “Tell the other two destroyers to sound their collision alarms and be ready to follow us into the Earth formation at battle speed. Have them arm every space mine they’ve got, fused for proximity detonation, and be ready to deploy them at two-second intervals. We’ll do the same. But above all, tell them not to fire on any Earth shuttles approaching us.”
“Why not?” James asked.
“Because we’re picking up a bunch of Earth deserters who have information about traitors within our own fleet. That came directly from Paladin, himself,” Richard was blunt.
Randall arms dropped his to his sides as though pulled down by heavy weights. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
Wakinyan just lightly shook his head. “I wish I was. Monitor for the call sign ‘Real Soldiers to New Friends’ on all frequencies. That will be our queue to come in and pick them up. And have Major Franks suit-up and cover both of our shuttle bays just in case this is some sort of trick.”