Monolith
A lot of people throughout the galaxy thought they knew the feeling of staring down the barrel of a pistol. A few genuinely did: the galaxy was, after all, a violent and dangerous place. Sara never even thought she’d be in this sort of a situation: and worse, she knew, right then and there, there was nothing she could do to stop the man holding the gun from pulling the trigger. She knew it instantly, the moment she saw his eyes.
Oliver Gill grinned and squeezed the trigger.
With a bang and a hiss, the bolt of searing energy hit the catwalk above them. Sara opened her eyes and looked around in confusion, wondering how come she was still alive. The first thing she heard was an angry scream.
“WHAT THE FUCK, PARKHURST?!”, Gill was angry, the way he never was before - which was saying something, considering the circumstances of the day. He tried to free his hand from Catherine Parkhurst’s grip. The captain slapped him with her other hand and took his gun away.
“It’s
Captain Parkhurst for you, Gill.”, she said, her words dripping with venom, “We’ll need hostages if we are to get off this fucking ship.”
“You will hang for this! I’m in command of this mission! When we return to Pendleton, I...”, Gill’s tirade was broken by Eli’s heavy hand landing on his shoulder.
“You really should stop right there, unless you want us to throw you out of the nearest airlock.”, the cyborg seemed utterly serious, “The captain knows what she’s doing.”
“Thank you, Eli.”, Parkhurst nodded, “Mr. Gill, you can either shut up and follow the people who have actual experience at this sort of thing, or you can stay here and have fun being chased by killer robots. Alone. You have five seconds to decide.”
Gill grit his teeth. For all his anger at the woman’s impudence, he could feel the overbearing presence of the Monolith all around him. And it scared him enough that he dreaded being left alone in those long, dark corridors filled with inexplicable, inhuman horrors.
It was obvious the rest of the unit supported their captain. So he had no other choice but to say, “All right, Parkhurst. You’re in charge.”
“I’m glad you turned out to be such a reasonable person.”, Parkhurst couldn’t pass the opportunity to mock the self-important bureaucrat some more, “Now, ladies”, she said, turning to her prisoners, “Let’s talk about getting us a ride out of here.”
Somewhere in the darkness, a lone scarab watched the entire scene, relaying it back to the ship’s intelligence.
The Catalogue
Katherine watched the events before her in disbelief. The Monolith’s intelligence, once again linked directly to her, was showing her a feed from the scarab following Sara and Rana, ostensibly so that she could make sure they’d get back to the
Strahl unharmed.
“You used them as bait!”, she cried. “You knew they’d draw out those BOSS commandos!”
“Your inference is correct, Katherine de la Poer. The sector’s internal sensor networks have been disturbed by BOSS sabotage. It was imperative to locate the team before they were able to inflict more damage.”
“You could’ve done this differently!”
“This was the most efficient method. Sara Pontcaire and Rana Shaheen are not in danger. Attack Units are converging on their location as we speak.”
“The moment your attack drones arrive Sara and her friend will be shot,” Katherine pointed out.
“Under present circumstances, you are completely correct. It is a risk calculation I found acceptable when compared to the reward.”
Katherine fumed at the machine’s response. As she did so, she noticed another element to the connection she had with the Monolith; access, if cursory, to its systems. She could look up the scarab drone’s data, and noticed it was not an ordinary one. “A package drone? For what?”
“For ferrying repair materials into the most confined spaces of myself,” the Monolith replied. “It carries a package that should be of use to Sara Pontcaire and Rana Shaheen. After all, I did not release them solely to see them killed.”
Monolith, Hanger Bay
Multiple possibilities were going through Rana’s mind as the Pendletonians led them up toward the
Strahl. She was unarmed, still slightly woozy, and not quite in a condition to fight. Even if she could, being covered on all sides by armed men was not something it was within her skillset to deal with. Her only choice was to go along with things.
Once they were at the ship, which was clearly inhabited, Parkhurst and Eli pulled Sara and Rana out to the forefront. Rana felt the metal of a gun barrel press up against the back of her neck. Neither spoke at first, until Eli said, “There is someone in the cockpit.”
“Whoever’s on that ship, come out peacefully, or we start shooting,” Parkhurst called out.
From within the ship, Balthier and Vanrya were watching one of the cockpit monitors and the sight of Sara and Rana as hostages. “Well, this shall be interesting,” Balthier mused. “I suppose they are seeking a ride.”
“What is your plan?”, Vanrya asked.
“Thinking it up as I go,” he answered. He wasn’t entirely used to hostage situations in these circumstances. There had been that one time in Rabintown, but Quinn had been there to provide telepathic assistance and, eventually, a sneak attack with telekinesis to disarm the hostage-taker for a critical moment. Now he had no ESPers to help him out; it would be by guile and wit alone he saved his young passengers. “Get Umar and have him at the airlock, out of sight. With his favored weapon of course.”
“Of course.”
As Balthier got to the steps down to the lower deck, he added, “And get our wayward Valkyrie and the Doctor into the appropriate turrets, should we need heavy fire. I hope our host will understand if it comes to that.”
Vanrya nodded and continued on through the upper deck. Alone, though armed, Balthier ventured his way to the port airlock and extended the ramp from within before stepping out. He had his hands held outward, a gesture to ensure nobody flinched and opened fire. Facing Eli and Parkhurst, he spoke out, “Good day to you. I take it you are looking for a ride.”
“We want control of your ship,” Parkhurst clarified. “To make sure you don’t hand us over to the Anglians, we insist your crew be disarmed and under our watch at all times.” She held her gun up toward Sara’s temple. “I shouldn’t have to point out what I’ll do otherwise.”
“Ah, you want us at your mercy,” Balthier remarked. “I understand your concerns, but by the same token I am rather fond of my crew and vessel, so what guarantee would I have that you wouldn’t, at the moment we were at your mercy, kill us all and seize our vessel for yourselves?”
“We don’t have a guarantee to give you,” Eli answered. “You’ll just have to take our word for it. The alternative is we shoot the girls and probably you.”
“True. Of course...” Balthier smirked. “You do that, and my crew will slam the airlock close and take off, stranding you here. And I don’t think you want to stay, especially if you’ve killed me. Between you and me, I think this vessel has taken rather a liking to me.”
“We don’t have a lot of time for this,” Gill cried out nervously. “Just... just shoot them and rush the ship!”
Parkhurst turned back and glowered at him, clearly not appreciating the interruption.
“Stop standing there and shoot!”, Gill insisted.
“Fairly impatient fellow, are you?”, Balthier noted wryly. “No appreciation for the fine art of armed negotiations.”
“We’re not going to ask again.” Eli was still holding his gun to Rana’s head, ignoring Gill. “You can decide now whether we just shoot you or you do as we instruct. Because no way are we getting on that ship without being in control, we’d be just as dead as if we stayed here.”
“Most likely,” Balthier conceded, as unflappable as ever. “Though you would at least to live a bit longer and enjoy a last meal.”
As this exchange continued, Rana felt something metal touch her leg. With her ESP slowly starting to return she didn’t have to look down to know what was there, as she sensed it; a small scarab drone skittering up her leg. She froze, not wanting to give away any panic or cause her captor to shoot, feeling it slip up, unnoticed, until it reached her hip. It slipped over to her hand then, at which time Rana couldn’t help but glance down.
She watched the scarab slide open the end of her beamsaber and slip the weapon’s energy pack into its slot at the bottom of the hilt.
Her senses were returning. She could tell that time was running out. Eli’s finger was already tensed on the trigger and any moment the shooting would start. Sara’s life would be save depending on the next few seconds.
For what kit was worth, the only person who had been paying attention to Rana enough to notnice the scarab was Balthier. His expression remained neutral.but Rana could sense him ready himself. It was now or never...
She ducked and extended her arms more quickly than Eli could have anticipated, his kill-shot singing the top of Rana’s head. With all her might her power struck at Sara, sending her flying through the air and, more importantly, out of the fire zone. In the next maneuver she brought her beamsaber to life with a crackle. The blade of pure energy, violet in color, moved right through Parkhurst’s wrists before she could bring her gun to bear. She cried out in pain and shock at the dismemberment before Rana used a second TK nudge to knock her over, just in time for the first shots to come from behind her.
Her immediate survival was guaranteed only because of Balthier’s quick trigger finger. He snatched his gun out of its holster and began firing it on full automatic, not entirely recommended for a sidearm with limited energy capacity and cooling capability, but the circumstances warranted it. Rana rolled out of the line of fire and brought up her saber in time to deflect rounds coming her way. Precious few did, however, given what happened next.
Umarbacca appeared at the airlock, hefting his cannon and with an expression on glee on his face that could only come from a Bragulan soldier. The cannon erupted, a sapphire barrage striking the team members behind the kneeling forms of Parkhurst and Eli. Gill barely jumped away in time to avoid being hit by the spray of energy.
Eli saw his chance. With his cybernetic reactive speed he ducked under the fire, sprinted past Balthier, and leapt up to smash into Umarbacca. With cybernetic strength he ripped the cannon out of his arms, just for the angry Bragulan to smash him in the side of the face with a powerful claw. A normal un-augmented human probably would’ve had his jaw and cheek broken - the cybernetics in Eli’s head helped absorb the strength of the blow, though he did go flying off the ramp up to the
Strahl. Roaring angrily, Umar jumped after him. Eli recovered and rolled out of the way. He used his hands to keep his balance on the ground as he kicked outward, hitting Umarbacca in the chest hard enough that even he faltered and had to step back, giving Eli needed seconds to recover. Getting back to his full height he reached for his gun and fired; the blast of energy struck Umar in the shoulder like a bullet of pure fire, even sending a spray of dark red Bragulan blood back onto the
Strahl (finding it later will make Balthier most displeased, naturally).
Eli fired again, looking to put a round into Umar’s heart, but he had never fought a Bragulan before and wasn’t quite sure
where the heart was. Nevertheless another burst singed fur, burned flesh, and generally did a fair bit of damage to Umar’s body.
At that point, Umar let out a fierce and terrible Bragulan curse. It was a curse so filthy, so disgusting, that simply uttering it in a Bragulan jurisdiction would get one sent to a de-education camp for “offense against the ears of the Mighty People of Bragule” (conversely, in Solarian jurisdiction it would merely get you a moderate fine from local authorities for noise pollution).
It also had the effect of making any Human being facing a Bragulan uttering the curse have a sudden, overwhelming urge to do Numbers 1 and 2, with no regard for hygiene, clothing freshness, or personal dignity. It did, after all, tend to come out in such a ferocious, blood-thirsting roar that you would become instantly convinced the Bragulan was going to rip your head off, tear apart your body, then eat your guts for sustenance... and not necessarily in that order.
For what it was worth, Eli was not a normal human being, and had sufficient bladder and sphincter control to not do either. He did grow pale, though.
Umar lashed out in a rage driven by pain, lunging directly at the BOSS cyborg and tackling him. Every servo in Eli’s body, along with what was left of his muscles, fought back against the massive hulk of white and brown fur that was trying to rip him limb from limb.
The loss of Umar’s fire support might have caused everyone else to get shot down by the automatic-firing weapons of the other BOSS operatives. This didn’t happen because after Umar jumped out of the way, one of the sets of pulse gun turrets on the side of the ship turned and began to fire, spraying silver-sheened energy blasts around the BOSS team - the one that got hit disappeared in a haze of energy, leaving only smoking feet behind.
Noticing the fairly chaotic fire, Balthier sighed. “I need to teach that girl better aim,” he mused, knowing Marissa was at the turret controls.
Once behind cover the BOSS operatives nevertheless resumed fire, forcing Balthier back behind his ramp. Rana was sweating, working carefully, desperately, to deflect the energy bolts as they came at her. Umarbacca was still wrestling with Eli, the two throwing each other around the cargo bay. Only Sara was unengaged; she had hidden behind a fallen drone and was nervously looking for a way to get to the ship.
With her ESP senses returning, Sara thought she could sense something. She looked up and gasped in fright at the massive four-legged robot that had crept up to her, a long head with a single glowing eye. The size of the robot made its stealthy approach all the scarier. Rana wondered if more were hiding in the darkness around her, illuminated only by the nearby firefight.
As she stared at the eye, which looked at her, she was surprised to hear its mechanical voice speak with a familiar, and even feminine, tone. “Sara, I’m going to give you a distraction, use it to run to the ship.”
“Kath... Katherine?”, Sara asked in a hushed whisper.
“Go! Now!” The drone turned away from her and loudly, audibly, clanged its legs on the floor before charging. That brought enough attention from the BOSS troopers that Sara sprinted forward, rushing toward Rana.
As she did so, Gill took aim.
To be truthful, Gill’s aim was not that of a marksman even under the best circumstances. Here he was, trying to use the wreckage of a war droid that Umarbacca had destroyed earlier as cover, holding his gun with one hand and trying to put a charged particle blast into Sara Pontcaire’s head. One last blow for his homeworld, for the society that reared him and was to be destroyed, for the home he’d never get to return to and the pretty teenage slave-maids he’d not enjoy the company of any longer. He took a shot that had a high likelihood of not hitting anything on Sara’s body.
As fickle luck - almost known to play a cruel joke or two on occasion - would have it, his shot went wide - no surprise - and right toward Rana.
Similarly, under optimal circumstances, even a young Sentinel like Rana, still so inexperienced in the ways of utilizing her power, would have sensed the wide shot coming and deflected or avoided it easily. But Rana was occupied - she had many energy bolts, some larger, coming toward her and directing all of her attention.
And so it was, to her surprise and Sara’s horror, that Gill’s shot meant for Sara’s head struck Rana instead, on the right side of her chest and rather dangerously close to her heart. She stared wide-eyed as the painful burning sensation of raw energy worked through her body, scorching tissue and flesh and burning the gown the Monolith had put her in. The pain of getting shot was such that no mental exercise, no “cut off pain from the mind” practice, could have stopped her from toppling over, though she held on to her saber for dear life.
“
RANA!!!” Sara rushed to Rana’s side and put an arm on her.
“Get her inside!”, Balthier shouted from his cover The BOSS team was starting to notice that their shots would get through now... but as things were, they’d never get the chance to do so. Not with the Monolith’s drones having finally arrived, swarming the area.
The massive four-legged beast was now between the commandos, kicking and flailing its limbs wildly. Despite its uncoordinated and random movements, any hit with one of the thick, powerful legs would be enough to instantly kill a man, and so the entire team scattered.
But other creatures crept from the darkness, evil shapes the BOSS team encountered before in the twisted corridors of the Monolith. With soulless, mechanical determination, a wave of skeletal combat drones advanced, showering the humans with blasts of sickly green energy. The volume of fire quickly grew overwhelming, and to add insult to injury, a giant swarm of scarab drones soon surged ahead of the robot infantry. Each BOSS trooper became an island in a sea of carapaces, the blasts of their small energy pistol only showing their desperation against a foe unfeeling and unstoppable. One by one, they succumbed, either maimed by terrible Collector weapons or dragged away by scarabs, screaming into the darkness.
Not far away from the battle, Sara was able to get Rana to switch off her weapon, allowing her to lift Rana into her arms, an impressive feat given Sara was generally not the most muscular or strong of girls. Balthier let off a few more shots from his almost-depowered and fairly hot gun before lowering it, not daring to holster it given how hot it looked. With his fire and the fact that the BOSS group realized they’d been outflanked by the Collectors, Sara had enough cover to bring the stricken Rana up the ramp.
Seeing Umarbacca still fighting with Eli, Balthier frowned. The last thing he wanted was to give the Monolith any opening, whatsoever, to take them prisoner again. As it was he wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t try to tractor them again, hoping that the distraction of the BOSS unit might keep it from entertaining such a thought until they were safely out of range. He raised his gun and, with a fairly impressive one-handed series of shots, hit Eli multiple times in the torso and hip, bringing the cyborg down. “Umar! Stop playing around and get in!”
Umar let out an angry retort. Balthier countered with a simple reminder of their situation. “Do you want to stay here, after all the bother we had in escaping?”
Nursing his wounds and hefting his cannon back into his arms, Umarbacca ran up the ramp with Balthier behind him. Those BOSS team members not yet overwhelmed by scarabs watched their only hope shut close.
Once inside the
Strahl Balthier rushed for the cockpit. “Vanrya, are we ready to go?”
“Drives are powered up, we are ready,” she confirmed.
Balthier settled into his chair and let out a sigh. “Okay, girl, let’s get out of here. Everyone hold on!” He brought the sublight drives online and took control of the ship.
The
Strahl lifted off the floor of the Monolith hanger bay and turned as it moved outward toward space, through narrow, winding accesways connecting the pressurized areas of the Monolith with the main hangar bay. Balthier almost sighed with relief seeing the massive armored door being open - obviously in order to receive the parasite craft. He expertly turned his ship in the confined space, and accelerated towards the gaping maw. As soon as he cleared the bay, the drive wings folded outward into place. They glowed bright white and suddenly the
Strahl was off, rocketing away from the Monolith as quickly as Balthier could drive her.
Ahead of them the Pendletonian fleet was in its death throes, being torn up by the victorious, and now vindictive, Coalition Fleet.
Monolith
Back in the pressurized parts of the hangar bay, Oliver Gill watched the
Strahl lift off. He felt despair of the sort he’d never experienced before. He looked around in stupor, watching his team being torn apart by the scarabs, or dying from horrible, sizzling wounds. He heard faint screams in the distance.
He slowly turned around, and saw the giant robot which charged his team moments ago. It walked towards him, slowly, with malicious deliberation, a disgusting mass of scarabs swarming around its legs. Gill thought about his home, the shining jewel of Pendleton. Of his family’s estate amongst the rolling meadows of the Astarian Mountains. In a way, that cold mechanical eye staring at him from under an armored hood represented the perpetrators who caused all his loss.
Deciding to meet his fate with dignity, remembering his family’s proud heritage in service to the Repulic, Oliver Gill straightened himself and looked straight at the giant war machine.
“You are vile traitors. Mark my words, machine, my people will remember this betrayal and, in time, they will come for you. And then you and your kind will pay for everything you’ve done!”, he said, surprised at himself. He felt no fear. All was lost, yet he wasn’t scared of what came next.
Perhaps he should’ve been, though, as without a word, the scarabs suddenly rushed forward, swarming all over him. The small machines cut their way into his flesh, and forced themselves inside his mouth, immobilizing him in seconds.
Oliver Gill was dragged away into the darkness, managing to only utter a single scream of utter pain and terror, which echoed in the massive chamber of the docking bay.
HMS Dauntless
Lieutenant Crawford noticed the contact racing toward the fleet, having launched from the Monolith, and immediately appraised Fisher of it. He directed his attention to the holotank and asked for a magnification. When he saw the form of the customized YPA-4700 appear a pleased smile crossed his face. “The
Strahl, they made it!”, he exclaimed under his breath.
Battlestar Annapolis
Commander Hushy was delighting in the sight of the Pendletonian (Astarian!) ships dead in front of him when he got the report. “DRADIS reports contact from the Monolith, racing toward us at high speed.”
“Must be the god damned slavers who were coordinating with those god damned toasters,” Hushy proclaimed, still riled up and wanting to nuke. “Track and fire with all available guns. As soon as we get finished nuking our primary target into oblivion bring main guns around to engage too.
NUKE THE ASTARIANS UNTIL THEY GLOW!”
Strahl
Vanrya looked up toward the cockpit window with a start. “Balthier, we’re being sighted with targeting sensors.”
“Pendletonians?”
“Worse, going by the wavelength.” She looked at him. “DRADIS systems. Shepistani.”
“They must think we are the Pendletonians assigned to the Monolith,” Balthier observed. “Shooting first and scanning the debris to get answers later. You can always count on the Shepistanis to make life
interesting.” He checked out the course plots even as the first light bursts of fire from the
Annapolis’ guns raced in front of the cockpit window, a couple lucky hits striking the deflector but causing no damage. :”Raise
Dauntless.”
“Trying, but we’re seeing interference, and our radio systems...”
“Strahl,
this is Dauntless
. Please respond.”
Balthier activated the cockpit speaker. “Ah, [i}Dauntless[/i], good to hear from you. Is His Lordship the good Admiral Fisher there?”
A moment later, a voice that sounded irritated yet rather pleased answered, “
I am here, Captain Meidan.”
WIth matters such as they were, Balthier didn’t bother getting irritated over the way he was referred to. “Admiral! Stop that fool captain on the
Annapolis for me, would you? And if you might arrange some docking space, we have wounded aboard.” Before he could say more, he had to maneuver hard to avoid being struck by fire from one of the larger batteries of the
Annapolis.
Battlestar Annapolis
With a Pendletonian destroyer a burning, irradiated wreck with all hands reduced to corpses that could make a geiger counter go blind, the Shepistanis were about to turn their fury on the
Strahl. It was smaller than the destroyers, a good challenge for his gunnery crews and their trusty DRADIS system... Hushy looked forward to their success.
“Patching through communication from
Dauntless,” the crewman at Comms stated.
The low and irritated tones of Lord Fisher echoed through the CIC. “
Annapolis, hold your fire dammit. The vessel that came from the Monolith is being piloted by friendlies. I say again, hold fire!”
God damned bleeding heart Anglians, Hushy thought to himself. “Are you sure they’re not an en...”
“
That ship’s crew is the only reason we didn’t blunder into an ambush when we arrived in-system, Commander. Cease fire now!”
Glowering, Hushy nodded for his crew to do so... and promptly directed them to nuke a Pendletonian frigate still trying to fight.
Strahl
The
Strahl zipped around the shattered wreckage of one flank of the Pendletonian fleet, making her course directly for
Dauntless. Aside from a few Pendletonian ships with guns still active, briefly, nothing shot at them, and those Pendletonian derelicts with capacitor-charged turrets still trying to fire found that shooting at things identified them for immediate silencing by the torpedoes and weapons of the various support fighters and light ships.
While Balthier brought them toward
Dauntless, Sara was with Rana and MacCulloch in one of the downstairs cabins that acted as MacCulloch’s infirmary. Rana was laid out on the bed, MacCulloch cutting her gown open to get a look at the wound. “Marissa, where’s that damned painkiller!”
“We’re out of the...”
“The other one, you...” MacCulloch bit down the remark he was about to make. “Blue bottle, not green!” He kept his critical medications color-coded for the benefit of Marissa, who had long proven that among other things she was not particularly good with big words.
“No,”, Rana rasped, trying to grip MacCulloch’s arm. “No painkillers. Makes my mind fuzzy, want to be with Sara...”
Sara, who was holding onto Rana’s other hand and arm for dear life, was crying bitterly. She felt the determination in Rana to remain awake for her.
If it will save you, please let it!
It will make no difference either way, Rana answered, re-directing her attention to Sara.
If I’m going to die, then that is my fate.
“Don’t say that! Don’t you say that!”, Sara cried aloud, unable to keep the sentiment in thoughts alone. “You’re not going to die!” She looked earnestly to MacCulloch, who was examining Rana’s wound with a scanner. “Tell her she’s not going to die!”
MacCulloch gave her the briefest glance. It was one of “Not if you let me do my job” annoyance, but Sara’s frightened state translated it into “Well, can’t say for sure... which means probably yes, she’s going to die, and you’re going to be alone again, with nobody in the world to love you.”
I’m always with you now, Rana answered. Her free hand rose up and touched Sara’s cheek, then went up to her shaved head.
In here... She brought her hand back down to Sara’s chest, over her heart.
...and in here. We’re going to be together. And I love you...
Rana’s mind went quiet.
Rana?!, Sara answered frantically, trying to get a response, but she got nothing. Her eyes had closed and her lips were not moving. In her emotional state Sara immediately presumed the worst and began to weep bitterly.
“Oh, quit yer damned blubbering,” MacCulloch growled. His finger stabbed to his makeshift bioscan device, which displayed EKG, EEG, and other data related to the body. It revealed that Rana was, of course, still alive. “I pumped her full of painkiller and sedative so I can work with her wound.” He indicated the patch of burnt flesh along Rana’s right side, just below her breast. “Would hurt like hell otherwise.”
“Is... is she going to....?”
“If we were on some craphole Outback world with no supplies, then you’d have cause to worry. But we’re not. So quit yer melodramatic blubbering, hold her hand, and let me keep her going until the Navy medics are here.”
Sara blushed a little from embarrassment.
HMS Dauntless
The hanger bay built into the large cruiser’s ventral and side hulls was becoming a den of activity. With the Pendletonian fleet mostly destroyed and only their “space militia” vessels remaining in orbit, easily swept away, Fisher departed the bridge to be present when the
Strahl was brought in.
It was taken into one of the holding bays usually employed for gunboats but, due to the usual missions of the ship, also capable of holding full starships for a time. The
Strahl was not even the largest ship to have ever been docked into its large bay, but it still took up a nice bit of room. Docking arms held it in place and a platform, with protective handrails, extended out to press against the ship’s starboard airlock.
First in were the medics, who emerged with a young woman. Fisher recognized her as the Silver Moon Sentinel Sara was traveling with. Sara was following closely and, most peculiarly, they had both had their heads shaved. Seeing the look on his face, Sara answered, “The Collectors, Admiral. They shaved our heads when examining our minds.”
“I’ll have to hear more about that later.” He nodded to her to go on and follow Rana to the ship infirmary. There was someone else he was interested in meeting.
Balthier emerged shortly thereafter. The two men gazed at each other across the length of the walkway before the ship captain deigned to step closer. “Ah, Your Lordship, a pleasure to see you’re looking so well. I trust you weren’t roughed up too greatly by the unexpected participants of this little war?”
“It pains me greatly to have to say this to an undisciplined outlaw and suspected pirate, but...” Fisher nodded. “I and every man and woman in this fleet who remains owes you a debt of gratitude for your warning, as garbled as it was. Had you not gotten that transmission through we would have come out of hyperspace at the limit and been beset upon at all sides.”
“Yes, well, I found the sudden presence of a Collector Monolith off putting. And to ambush your fleet like that given the advantages they enjoyed, well, that would hardly be sporting now, would it?”
“No, it would not,” Fisher agreed amiably. “I take it you will be angling for some kind of reward for this service?”
“Well, ships are fairly expensive pieces of equipment to operate and fly,” Balthier pointed out. “But as it is, I would be considering a different form of compensation. I left my wayward holy man and two of the Sisters back on Pendleton to track down a lead on Sara’s family. I would very much like to pick them up, preferably before the less restrained members of your coalition start chucking atomic weapons at the planet for sport.” A question came to his mind. “Who had the bright idea of inviting Shepistanis along anyway?”
Fisher couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Some daft fool in the Government, I’m sure. Anyway, I’m afraid it would be rather inappropriate for me to send a civilian ship, much less an outlaw vessel, into a war zone.”
“So you say.”
“Of course, if I am sending a former Royal Navy officer in as my agent to recover friendly agents and the family of an Anglian national from that war zone before they might be harmed, then it is rather more acceptable.”
“Ah. An agent of the Navy, eh?” Balthier gave a smirk at that. “Well, I have worked for worse employers. And it’s for the girl’s sake.”
“Then you’d better get going, we’ll be in Pendleton orbit in four hours,” Fisher pointed out.
Balthier answered with a nod and returned to his ship. Vanrya and Marissa were waiting for him at the airlock. “Sara and Rana will be fine,” he said to them. “Now let’s finish this work, for I have a sudden desire to be at the Blind Boar enjoying my brandy and the company of a sweet young barmaid who appreciates fine drink.”
“As we reach orbit I’ll see if we can reach Quinn on his phone,” Vanrya said, heading back to the cockpit.
Fisher watched from the hanger dock as the
Strahl was released, at his order, and slipped down through the bay and back to space. “Good luck,” he breathed, turning afterward to return to the CIC and his duties as commander of the invasion.
Pendleton, Montalba Spaceport, ruins of Berth 43
Commander Jellico gasped, reaching for a particularly large piece of concrete, as he dragged his mangled, broken body from the ruins of Berth 43. He rolled over, pulling a broken leg from a crevice he managed to dig in the rubble. He didn’t even feel pain anymore: his body felt numb and weak, yet somehow, he managed to free himself.
He fell on his back in exhaustion, feeling blood slowly soak the concrete dust under him, and smiled, looking at the blue sky. At least he’d die outside, breathing in fresh air.
Funny how fate plays with us..., he thought idly, watching the clouds roll by. A few hours ago, he was standing watch on a boring assignment, babysitting this pier which housed a Collector diplomatic courier, trying to piece together confused news reports and radio broadcasts and see how the battle was doing. All of a sudden, the broadcasts stopped, and he got word to board and detain the Collector ship.
It was too bad it opened fire first, really. The BOSS had a bewildering array of heavy weaponry hidden all around the berth, more than enough to blast the craft to high heaven. The ship seemed to know this, though so it simply took off and blew the entire structure apart with a contemptuous shot from its main weapon array, burying them alive. The last thing Jellico heard was the sonic boom it left behind it as the hangar collapsed upon his head. For a diplomatic yacht, the thing sure packed a lot of firepower.
The funniest thing about this story..., Jellico thought, watching the first fiery re-entry trails of Anglian landing craft,
...Is that I always wanted to be a farmer.
As nuclear SAMs streaked into the sky over Montalba and initiated between the landing craft, commander Jellico sighed and expired, dreaming in his last moments of the life he could have had.
Monolith, beyond the Pendleton hyperlimit
Space was filled with wreckage. Katherine watched the debris field through the eyes of the Monolith, admiring the beautiful array of radiation waves and thermal signatures. She could
feel the emissions reach the ship’s sensors, she could
taste the myriad of characteristics which pointed to their origins.
With her conscious mind, she knew those ships were graves to thousands of sentients. In a briefest moments, she could feel the same thought from the Monolith itself. Despite its cold, machine mind, it seemed to feel...sadness over the massive loss of life. Katherine thought to herself that there was still much she had to learn about those enigmatic creatures.
Her enhanced senses felt a flicker of light, a tiny speckle show up between the buzzing, teeming mass of the Coalition fleet. Somehow, she instantly knew which ship it was.
They made it, she said into the void, her voice booming inside the vastness of the Monolith’s systems,
Sara is safe
Yes, the Monolith agreed,
Are you ready, Katherine de la Poer?
She could feel the tension building within the massive vessel. It felt like a growling beast readying itself for a leap. A familiar sensation ran through her skin: goosebumps, at the memory of the eerie song of hyperspace.
I am, she said, and saw a whole new world open up before her. Hyperspace swallowed the ship, enveloping her. She heard its song, which sounded more beautiful than any recorded memory. She felt the exotic energies gently wave over her skin. The universe, with all its wonder, lay before her.
She was free.
"
- PeZook
