The DSCS-GANYMEDE rumbled through the fourth dimension, the noise of the engines echoing inside its halls. The viewscreens to the “outside” were all closed. The minds of three dimensional creatures were not constructed to understand the fourth. Corporal Weston Kerchow did not enjoy eating lunch during 4-D travel, as the closed viewscreens made the cafeteria even more claustrophobic than it already was.
“And so I said to him ‘No way I’m touching that banana!’” Lieutenant Samuel let out a laugh. “Hah! Get it?”
Weston rolled his eyes.
“Aw come on, Kerchow, what’s the deal? I come all the way down here to the NCO’s mess to share a lunch with a pal, and this is how I get treated?” Samuel asked in mock offense
Weston could tell Samuel was joking, but he wasn’t in the mood.
“I wish people would stop mispronouncing my last name.” He muttered.
“Really? That’s what got you down? Grow up, Weston! I pronounce it right. Kerchow. Kerrrr-cho.”
“I know that you can say it Sam, but no one else can. No matter how many times I tell them!”
“Maybe you should ask the captain to make a ship-wide announcement?”
“Are you kidding me? I’d die of embarrassment. Who makes a ship wide announcement for something like that?”
“What is this, high school? Get a hold of yourself, man!”
Weston groaned and hit his head on the table. The trip through the fourth dimension would last another hour: soon, they’d be at Kaisari.
The corridors of the DSCS-PRETORIA shuddered as its engines fired up. The Battlecruiser moved to the next location in its patrol around Kaisari, which rotated calmly several hundred kilometers away. Garrett was sitting on a comfortable chair in Stefan’s cabin while Stefan stood staring out into space, hands clasped behind his back, the image of the ideal captain. The captain’s cabin had to it a simple luxury, minimalist in design. The bed, pure white, was impeccably made, a bedside lamp warmly illuminating the room. Garrett felt particularly uneasy.
“Do we have to discuss this here?”
Stefan turned around, raising his eyebrows.
“Why not? It’s comfy here, and private. We can talk of your plans confidentially.”
“Well I’m pretty uncomfortable here. Just saying.”
“Ugh.” Stefan rolled his eyes. He moved away from the window at sat on the bed. Garrett shifted uneasily in his chair. “Whatever. What’s your plan, intrepid Colonel?”
“We’ll contact the Wheel.” Garrett said, a little more emphatically now that they were getting down to business. “We’ll find out what they’re doing here, and we’ll get them to leave.”
“First off, there aren’t any Wheel around here.” Stefan was quick to the punch. “Second, how are you going to get them to leave? I don’t think asking politely will work.”
“We’re going to wait until they get here, Captain. If they weren’t coming and going regularly, do you think the Imperator would have asked us to ‘get them to leave’? I thought that much was obvious. They’re going to come back, and once they do, we’ll contact them and gauge what they’re up to.”
“And then what?”
“That depends on what we find.”
Standing on the bridge of the EXTRICATION, Landover smirked. It was a little premature to directly confront his target… but it wouldn’t hurt to get a head start.
A spirited knocking came at the door to the cabin.
“Yes?” Stefan called out.
“Captain!” Yelled a crewman from the other side of the door. “Sensors show Wheel ships exiting 4-D Space! They’re arriving around the dark of the moon!”
Captain Sonett hopped off the bed, opening the cabin door in a flash.
“Move us into visual field and get the fleet combat ready.” He turned to Garrett. “Colonel, let’s go.”
The two of them ran to the bridge of the Pretoria while the crewman radioed ahead. Soon, the engines of the Pretoria fired up again.
/KAISARI SECURITY FLEET/ LED BY FLAGSHIP /DSCS-PRETORIA/
COMPRISING
LIGHT FRIGATES /DSCS-IO/DSCS-GANYMEDE/DSCS-EUROPA/DSCS-PANDORA/DSCS-TITAN/
FRIGATES /DSCS-SIRIUS/DSCS-THUBAN/DSCS-VEGA/DSCS-POLLUX/
MISSILE FRIGATES /DSCS- ANTAEUS/DSCS-BANSHEE/
CARRIERS /DSCS-PORTUGAL/
BATTLECRUISERS /DSCS-LIVERPOOL/DSCS-PRETORIA/
MOVE TO VISUAL FIELD OF APPROACHING HOSTILES – AREA: DARK OF MOON ANDYAL
Observers from Kaisari, were they watching the skies at night, would see a number of stars suddenly appear in the sky and streak farther and farther away until they disappeared behind Andyal, the planet’s moon.
On the bridge of the Pretoria, Garrett and Stefan’s eyes jumped from the viewscreens to the sensors, watching on both as Wheel vessels exited the fourth dimension to join them in the world of 3-D.
“Two battleships. One carrier. Three battlecruisers, and… They’re packed rather close together, so our sensors can’t give an exact number, but there’s definitely an assortment of frigates there too. Ship for ship we’re about equal, but they’re got us cornered in terms of firepower.” The Pretoria’s Sensor Officer reported.
“Thank you, David.” Sonett nodded, looking back at the viewscreens. He could certainly make out the battleships and a few of the frigates – one of the carriers was close enough such that he could read the name carved into its hull – EXTRICATION. Why did the Wheel have to use such overdramatic names for their ships?
“Open Communications!” He snapped. Comms Officer Harry Reynolds obliged.
“Attention Wheel vessels, this is the Deep Space Confederacy Flagship Pretoria. You are in DSC space. Wheel flagship, either state your business or withdraw immediately.”
A video feed from the Wheel came shortly after. Stefan momentarily stiffened, then regained his composure. Another aged Admiral? This one sported a few gold teeth, a bushy moustache, and a monocle, along with the usual assortment of medals. Surely, this would not end well.
“Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen.” The Admiral spoke. “I am Admiral Schlieffen of the Wheel Battleship Fulmination. We are investigated reports of DSC troop build up around this planet.... this is Kaisari, yes? In any case, it is quite close to the buffer zone of independent worlds, and, you see, we are concerned that the DSC wishes to encroach on those worlds in order to facilitate a pre-emptive strike against the Wheel.”
The Admiral, coughed, clearing his throat.
“Well, that turned out to be rather wordy, didn’t it?”
“What a load of shit.” Garret whispered to Sonett. “Their ships were here before. Do they honestly think we don’t know that?”
Stefan stepped up to the communications screen.
“Admiral, Captain Sonett.” He said.
Landover’s ears perked at the name. The communication between the FULMINATION and the PRETORIA was being broadcast to all the ships in the Wheel fleet. He was reminded of his mission. He called across to the other side of the FULMINATION’s bridge.
“Casseiopeia!”
“That’s funny, Admiral.” Stefan replied. “Our fleet has arrived just recently because your ships were reported to have been spotted in this area. Now what do you suppose that means?”
“I suppose this can turn out to be quite the diplomatic incident.” Admiral Schlieffen mumbled, twirling the end of his moustache. “Let’s talk this through like gentlemen, shall we?”
“Hah! Gentlemen, eh?” Stefan laughed. “Sounds grand, Admiral. No one wants a repeat of Carnegia.”
“No one wants a repeat of Carnegia.”
That bastard.
“You were saying, Admiral?” Cass asked, fiddling with her hair.
“Ah yes, yes.” Landover said, turning away from the comms screen. “I was saying, Casseiopeia, it’s time for your first mission.”
“No one indeed, Captain. What say you join us on the FULMINATION and we work out a solution to this problem?”
Stefan raised an eyebrow.
“Surely we should wait for DSC ambassadors, or representatives from Kaisari?”
“Nonsense, Captain. I do not want a lengthy negotiation. I wish for this to be resolved as quickly as possible so that the both of us may return to our own affairs. Please, let us be done with this jibber-jabber.”
“They might kill you on there. Or use you in one of their tech-worship rituals.” Garrett whispered.
Stefan momentarily muted communications. Admiral Schlieffen looked impatient.
“Doesn’t seem likely.” Stefan whispered back. “This Admiral Schlieffen seems a likable sort. Besides, if I were killed it’d provoke all out war between the Wheel and the DSC, which they seem determined to avoid. They have nothing to gain by killing me.”
“They could hold you hostage.”
“The way things are now that’d lead to war too. It wouldn’t make sense. If they wanted war they could have pursued it immediately after Carnegia.”
Garrett nodded. Captain Sonett’s logic was sound. He turned on communications once more.
“Alright, Admiral, I’ll pay you a visit. How will this be done?”
Admiral Schlieffen brightened.
“We’ll send a shuttle to collect you shortly. I will inform the ships under my command to stand down, and I hope that you shall do the same. See you soon, Captain.” The video feed cut out.
Stefan sighed. It was time to get down to business.
Landover watched as Casseiopeia climbed into one of the EXTRICATION’s emergency escape pods.
“Remember, begin with the lowest ranking one and work your way up. But do not kill the Captain.”
“Gotcha.” Cass said, strapping herself in. Landover could hear what sounded like a wind chime clinking beneath her bridge coat.. he somehow doubted that that was what it was.
“Do not kill him.” He emphasized.
“I get it, Admiral! You’ve repeated that at least a hundred times.” Cass shouted.
“I’ve also told you one hundred times that I am no longer an Admiral, but you seem willing to ignore that.”
“And you still call me Cassiopeia, even though I’ve told you not to!” The escape pod’s cover sealed with a hiss.
“That’s only because - ! Argh! Forget it.” He put his head up to the transparent cover. “You’re on your own for this. If you succeed, make your way to Extorris. This will be your trial by fire.”
Cass winked.
“You should’ve picked a harder trial.”
A bang and the escape pod ejected out into space. Landover watched as its tiny engines fired up and it began to fly. The pod should go unnoticed by the DSC sensors.
“Good luck, Cass.” He said.
Quite unexpectedly, alarms tore through the EXTRICATION. Crewmen began to run to and fro through the emergency bay. A crewman ran up to Landover, informing him that unidentified vessels had been discovered and his presence was requested on the carrier’s bridge. Landover obliged, moving quickly through the gun-metal grey halls and elevators of the ship. The bridge was alight with activity, communications being passed rapidly through all the carrier’s sections.
“Captain Beseler!” Landover called out. The ship’s Captain, a stout middle aged gentleman, turned. “Can you open communications with the Fulmination?”
The Captain obliged Landover’s request. Soon he was face to face with the Admiral.
“Schlieffen, what has happened? DSC Ships?”
The Admiral mournfully shook his head.
“No. Not ours, either?”
“Independent vessels? What is the meaning of this?”
“I’m not sure, Landover… Not only are they independent but they’re also not identifiable by our sensors. We’re in quite the predicament here. Ah, one moment.”
Admiral Schlieffen moved away from the screen, but returned shortly after.
“I’ve received a report from my Sensors Officer. Given their current location, they would have to make quite the manoeuvres to effectively attack us, giving us ample time to escape. They’re much better poised to attack the DSC. Perhaps this will work in our favour, eh?”
Landover was troubled. Unidentified vessels, here? Now?
“We’ll see, Admiral.
The masked man sat in the weapons bay of the battleship, sharpening one of his swords. He paused for a moment, tugging at the red scarf around his neck. Soon, no doubt, he would be requested first at the bridge, and then in the hangar bay. The battleship’s P.A. system was alight with chatter and all around him soldiers ran, gathering weapons and utilities. He stood up, slicing the blade through the air a few times. Satisfied with its apparent edge, he sheathed it and began moving towards the bridge.
The galaxy, he thought, was moving much too slowly. Sometimes, a reaction needs a catalyst.
No comments:
Post a Comment