The Loper:- Exploratory

[Amazee Dayzee]

I'm hoping that Hawle changes his mind about being in a relationship. Say in about 24 chapters when a certain someone is rescued. I did really like this chapter!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 19

Borders

The crew checked that their comms were active before Grovan spoke up, his voice showing on the helmet displays. “We’re not splitting up, people. The Explorer ships are far too big for that. Anyone runs into problems, they need assistance closer than a quarter of a mile away. We’re going to be staying together, no further apart than one or two rooms.”
<”Agreed,”> Pangal said, her tone all business through the helmet speakers as her name showed up in red. <”There’s no fooling around on this. We have a mystery.”>
<”I’ll be scanning for power sources,”> said the Engineer, the Equinna called Unus. <”Thing’s dead so any power signal’s may be suspicious. Except, of course, the communications beam...”>
<”Which is definitely suspicious,”> Guard Hav cut in, wondering what he’d done to deserve this appointment.
“Yes,” Grovan said, getting ready to open the door, “now shush.”

With magnetised boots, the team clumped out, silently and heavily, onto the deserted shuttle bay. Unus pulled a large crate onto his back by cables looped over his shoulders and under his arms as Pangal and Hav kept close watch on the shadows to the front, the other guards watching their backs. Winsome was in the middle of the group, trying not to become a target for any of the thousands of imaginary snipers out there, waiting to get him. Grovan clumped towards the sealed door in the corner, thinking there should be a number of antiquated fighters here but all there was was nothing, bar one in the corner. It had a panel open in it’s side and cables floating frozen from the hole so Grovan assumed it had been cannibalized for some reason or other but he still had Unus check that it wasn’t sending the signal. The Equinna shook his head, slightly twisting the suit from left to right and back again.

A moment with a lever applied enough pressure to the workings inside the wall to open the door a fraction and a moment more with an Equinna’s strength to open it enough so they could get through. <”Are we going to have to do that with every door we go through,”> Winsome asked.
“It’s mostly clear between here and the tertiary command station,” Grovan said. “Then we can see about door power.” They set out down the passageway, helmet lights cutting through the dark and lighting the walls through the dust that still hung in the air. “Anyone know the layout of these ships,” Grovan asked.
<”I do,”> one of the guards said, hesitantly, <”Dad got me the schematics when I was young.”>
“So long as you remember the way, lead it,” Grovan instructed. “Tertiary command, please.”
The Celican guard took over the lead and they headed down passageways in the silent ship, Grovan telling Hav to stop humming as they could all hear it over their comms. The Wolfy Mican silenced himself as he noted something. <”The dust’s not settling on the floor,”> he told the others.
“It’s the Electrons,” Grovan replied. “Dust picks up a negative charge, even here. Although that does tell that the power’s been on here a lot more recent than twenty years ago. The deck plates need power to gain a positive charge of any sort. After this long, that should have dissipated. Anything turning up on scans, Unus?”
The Equinna shifted slightly, almost blinding Grovan as his helmet lights beamed directly at him. He turned away. <”Sorry. According to the scanner, there’s nothing online in this area. We should go onward.”>

So they did, following Kestaral Yuna, ‘Kesta’ to her friends, past the old ship’s star-wheel bar and through the habitation section where thousands of colonists would live for short periods of times. She related the fact that the Fauntleroy – the second version specifically – had once transported a large colony of Wolves from a doomed planet and fought a war and she would have gone on but Grovan finally shushed her and insisted they didn’t need the history of a different ship.
<“Just thought it would interest you,”> she grumbled.
“Probably would,” Grovan agreed, wondering if he’d been a bit too strong in his reprimand, “but tell me when we’re not moving, yeah?”
<”Or not,”> Pangal remarked sarcastically. <”We’re here, I think?”> She indicated a door marked as T.C.R. in standard dialect.
<”I’m picking up some power within,”> Unus advised. <”Not much but enough. Something’s still active in there.”>
“Transmission point, perhaps,” Grovan queried. “Check the door’s not trapped first.” The Engineer ran his scanner around the door but picked up nothing around it. “Is there an atmosphere in there,” he asked.
<”Doubt it but I can’t tell. I also can’t find the manual opener.”>
<”There wasn’t one,”> Winsome said, stepping forward. <”Tertiary Control Rooms operated on emergency protocols.”> He felt around the side of the door and opened up a seamless panel. <”The door has an emergency, long lasting battery system. It needs a command code. And I,”> he added, bringing up his handheld console’s display on his helmet screen, <”just happen to have the Command code for Commander Dably. It was stored in the Loper files.>” The Tech operator entered the fifteen digit code and the door opened on a command deck that showed little signs of life bar one console that possessed a blinking light. <”It’s on hibernate,”> Winsome told them.
<”I wouldn’t recommend turning it on,”> Unus said, running his scanner over things. <”I need to get to Engineering first. Energy is at minimal. This terminal could take more energy turning on than it needs to stay on.”>
“Splitting up is NOT an option,” Grovan reminded them.
<”I should be able to link my computer up to it,”> Winsome offered, <”and use the power from that for a while at least.”>
<”Sir,>” Pangal added, <”Can we go private for a moment?”>
Grovan nodded and established a private comm-line, cutting the others out of the talk. “I don’t want to split up,” he told the Chief.
<”Then we’re going nowhere fast, sir,”> Pangal remarked. <”We need power for the Computer here. The power is there. Winsome needs to be here, Unus needs to be there. Logic demands he goes with three members of security. I’ll be one of them and Yuna another so we get there faster. Hav can stay here with you and Night.”>
“Fine, fine,” Grovan said, not liking it but understanding the Lappinean was right. He re-engaged the others and passed along the decision as his orders.

He just hoped Unus could get things online as Winsome set about connecting up his computer.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Really amazing job as usual! Your writing skills are astonishing!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 20

Derelict

<“You having any luck,”> Hav asked. Grovan hoped he was talking to Winsome as only the Jondahl youth was currently doing anything other than waiting. He was on his knees next to an open panel, selecting cables from his toolkit to connect his computer to the ship as quickly as he could.
<”I haven’t even reached Engineering yet,”> Unus replied from a different part of the ship. <”This is a LONG ship, Hav,”>
“Keep the comms free, will you,” Grovan ordered as Winsome worked on.

Unus and his guards had made their way past the small shopping complex that all these ships had. Pangal wondered if the coffee was still good, being more freeze dried than any other coffee in history. A 20 year out of date calendar still hung in one of the shops, a relic of when calendars still came in card and paper form. It was hooked on the eighth month, placing whatever happened here somewhere about ten months after their last communication buoy was launched. She couldn’t help but notice old stains on the floors and walls. An old, PK type energy weapon lay under the counter where it had been dropped, a stain nearby warning of what might have happened to it’s owner. She picked it up and checked it over. The power pack seemed to be still charged to at least thirty percent, according to the readings, so she pocketed it. “Pangal to Grovan,” she said, <”Be alert. There are signs that what happened here did not go down easily. There’s a discarded weapon under counters in the Mezzanine area and signs of old blood everywhere.”
<”Understood, Chief,”> Grovan replied. Pangal hoped he knew what that meant. Someone had been here since. Stains without bodies indicated someone had moved the bodies. She wanted to be back as part of a full unit again but knew Unus had to go on. He stopped at a lift stop.
<“We have to go up,”> the Equinna remarked, before pulling open the panel and twisting as powerfully as he dared to get the door open. The pressure released the door slightly, enough for Unus and Kestaral to pull it open. The Celican turned her boot magnets off and jumped to push herself up the tube, angling slightly across the void so she could push off and grab a handle next to the door above as Unus climbed the ladder., the device still over his back <”Don’t show off,”> he warned, shortly before Pangal said something similar.
<”I have sensitive ears, Jaqui,”> Winsome complained from the Control Room. <”I’ve got the connections made. According to the computer, there’s five minutes power in this console. Make haste, would you?”>
<”Understood,”> Pangal replied as Unus opened this door in a similar fashion.

Engineering was as silent and stained as the rest of the ship, the expansive space stretching around them as they opened the door. In the centre of the room was the main generator for the ship, a system capable of regenerating it’s own power providing it had any to spare and that was what Unus had on his back, a portable generator. It was one of the reasons he’d been chosen for the mission as the generator was heavy. In zero gravity it was easy enough. When there WAS gravity, the thing needed; two to lift it at least. Even now he huffed as he moved it into place. First, though, he checked over the system itself, his scanner beam taking what was, essentially, an X-Ray of the generator and comparing it to the schematics on file. Behind him, Pangal and Kestaral checked for any ‘unpleasant’ things that might have been left as booby traps before the Lappinean gave Unus the thumbs up to turn the generator on.

He did so, a fact seen by the simple effect of a Yellow light showing up on the thing before a dull light began to try to glow on the main generator. “We’re beginning to power up now,” Pangal told Grovan.
<”Can you get control of the doors,”> The Collian replied. <”So we can start repressurising?”>
<”I might be able to repressurise certain sections, Commander,”> Unus replied, “but it’ll take time to route the power to you and that’s even after it gets past the danger level.”>

Dawton looked at his screen again. “I’m thinking I’m picking up something, sir,” he told Hawle as the Loper waited for updates.
“What sort of something,” Hawle asked.
“A power build up coming from that moon,” he stated, indicating the astral mass behind the Starship graveyard.
“Not ‘alf what I’m picking up,” Chapston warned. “Looks like a fair few shuttles and things comin’ up from the planet, sir.”
“On screen,” Hawle ordered before Chapston had a chance to flick the screen to the new picture; which he knew she’d been planning to do before he asked.

A cluster of small ships, one or two he recognised as Council shuttles, were leaving the planet’s atmosphere and coming towards them. Most of them looked in a reasonably decent condition, although several looked like they’d been in battle. “Keep an eye on them,” he warned Chapston, “passive scans only, though. We’re a relic in the museum.”
“We could probably take them,” Raven urged.
“But that wouldn’t help anyone stuck on the surface,” Una countered and Hawle appreciated how fast she seemed to have grasped his conundrum.
“We’re in the investigation phase right now, Raven, not the attack.” Hawle crossed his legs. “We’re completely out of our depth here. We’re outmanned and, possibly, outgunned, we have no back up and no clue as to what’s going on. Ready a distress capsule with all the information we have on this and prepare to fire it towards Talvary if we need to.”
Raven nodded and headed back to engineering.

“<Are you coming back,”> Grovan asked Pangal over her comms.
“Waste of time,” the Lappinean ventured. “We’re repressurising your Command centre but that’d be lost if we tried to re-enter. You’ll need atmosphere to listen to any messages, we’ll just need the relay from the speakers.”
<”Acknowledged, Chief,”> Grovan replied. <”Door just closed,”> he added. <”Hope that was you?”>
<”It was,”> Unus insisted, flicking a few old switches. <”Try opening it and closing again.”>
There was a gap of thirty or forty seconds before Grovan came back on. <”That works. Forgot you had to press the right button on these things. Power us up.>”

Grovan and his team heard the hiss as antiquated air processor units began to shift the air into the confined area and their suit sensors recorded the increase in pressure to the norm as life was leeched, slowly, back into the rest of the huge ship. After a while, Winsome removed his helmet and sniffed the air. “Yuck,” he said, turning the computer on. It slowly came back to life with help from his wrist computer taking it through the encryption protocols. He turned his suit receivers on as the face of an officer shivered into view, looking dishevelled and haggard. <”This is Lieutenant Kayle, U.S.C.,”> it said, <”and this is an emergency transmission...”>

[Amazee Dayzee]

What t a completely thrilling chapter! Hope your posting frequency will increase soon!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 21

Arrival

Hawle watched the approaching ships with concern. “Send a direct beam message to Grovan,” he instructed Dawton. “Four words. ‘We are not alone’. Then enact radio silence.” He activated his comm as the Communications Officer enacted his order. “Hawle to Groal.”
<”Groal here,”> the Chief Engineer replied through the comm.
“We need to go to minimal power output for a bit, Groal.” Hawle ordered. “We’ve got a parade coming by our front door and I don’t want them to know we’re in.”
The lights dimmed to a dark red tone as the screen lost a little of its clarity and the engines powered down to minimal. Life support remained a touch above moderate and the gravity systems reduced in power.
“If you ever needed to diet,” Hawle told Una, “now would have been a great time to hit the scales.
“She doesn’t need to diet,” Raven told him, returning to the bridge and using rails, consoles and the backs of chairs to get to her own seat
“I know that, Sarina, it wasn’t a statement of…”
“Joke appreciated,” Una said, in a manner that indicated it hadn’t been appreciated in the slightest. “Now, would someone like to tell me the plan?”
“At the moment,” Hawle commented, “the plan is gather intel. Whatever we’re going to do, we’re going to get one shot. We need as much information as we can before we do reckless things.”
“I had a feeling you’d be reckless at some point,” Una replied, slightly meaning it as a joke.

<”If you’re receiving this,”> the Feline face said from the screen, <”I hope it means that the plan has worked. We’ve been pla...ng this since the lazzt time they let the few of uz on board for maintenance...”>
“Pause that,” Grovan ordered, letting Winsome do as ordered before continuing to talk to the others. “I just got a call from home,” he explained. “They’ve gone radio silent as others are around. Don’t try to contact the ship for any reason without clearing it with me first. I’ll let you know when things change. Over.”
The others acknowledged receipt of the instructions as they were required to by his final word and he indicated that Winsome should recommence playback. <”They’re called the Kzzz...”>
“Interference, not a name,” Grovan confirmed for anyone who hadn’t guessed.
<”They’….. kidn...ng ship’z c..ws for years. Th...hing on th...oon pulls sh..s here and th.. ztrike zt...ht after. Zzey don’t know how to maintzzn the ships that well zo bring zome pe..le up to maintain zystems whilzt the rest are k..t on the planet in the ...son campz. I znuck the tranzmizzion in by leaving a zzngle generator on minimum power on my lazzzrip up to check zyztems.”> On screen, he laughed. <”Don’t even know if the zzignal has the power to re..h the Council. Or if the Counzzl even exists. Zztill, gotta hope, eh? Zhat one day it’ll end.”> And the message cut off.

Hawle watched as the vessels approached, ready to fight or lead the ships away from the Bellaphron if needed. Running could give Grovan a chance to get the big ship powered up to move and… yeah, the last person he was convincing of that was himself so he filed that under ‘things he’d likely never do’ and watched the incoming with unblinking eyes. The power coming from the moon appeared to be growing steadily and it was, he hoped, blotting out their sensors somewhat, just as it was beginning to blot out the Loper’s. He made a mental note of possible plans if things currently went to plan – the plan of hiding and holding their breath – and watched.
“Things are reaching a crescendo,” Dawton remarked. “If the signal were registering any higher we’d be able to hear it…”

The ship was hit by a shockwave as, thirty thousand kilometres off the starboard bow, a new ship suddenly displaced space, appearing without warning in the void as the small ships descended on it. The power coming from the moon ceased abruptly, as Hawle tried to work out if he knew the ship’s silhouette. Nothing came to mind. “Find that signal’s point of origin,” he demanded as the shuttles swarmed the new ship, firing and entering it almost at will.
“That ship doesn’t have a chance,” Raven uttered, her claws chipping into her arm rests as she watched.

Grovan gripped the nearest chair as dust and debris, re-introduced to the idea of gravity, showered to the floor. The ship stopped shaking after a moment and the others reported in. <”What was that,”> Unus asked.
“Can’t tell,” Grovan replied. “Travis, can you see if external sensors are working?”
The night-shift leader acknowledged the command and, now some level of power was getting through, started work to see what he could do, hoping that it didn’t mean some ship had just exploded. “How’s the exploration going,” he asked the others.
<”We’re halfway to the bridge now,”> Pangal replied, <”providing Lewan has her directions right.”>
“Who?”
<”Me,”> Kestaral replied, <”Kestaral Lewan.”>
“Of course. Tell me when you’re up there.”


“What.. what happened,” Una breathed.
“I don’t know,” Hawle admitted. “If I were to guess, I’d say that moon is a teleport system of unbelievable power and they just used it.”
“What… what power does it use,” she asked. “How does it work?”
“Don’t know,” Hawle admitted. “And it’s not the important question when you come to it.”
Una stared at him as he brought his hands together. “And what, pray tell, is the most important question?”
“How big an explosion will it cause when we blow it up?”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Keep on making jokes like that which annoy people Hawle and eventually you'll get a pie thrown at you (hopefully soon). XDDDDD

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 22

Plan

Time passed and the ships returned to normal before Hawle called Grovan and told him to get back to the Loper. Within ten minutes, the senior crew were assembled in the conference room, with water and sandwiches provided. Hawle had just finished watching the replay of the message sent by Lieutenant Kayle and pushed away what remained of a Tomato and Yeeva sandwich. He looked around at the others, all looking concerned, confused and out of their depth. They needed someone to take charge of the situation, even if he was totally cast adrift on things as well. He was in it up to his ear-tips. “We didn’t waste the time between their assault and your return, Grovan,” he advised. “We’ve been getting scans on that moon.” He pulled up a 3d image of the moon and closed in on one of the sections, revealing a large complex on the surface. “I have to assume the power core is underground but that would appear to be something quite important. It’s got some shielding up but I imagine it could bring up more if needed.”
“Can we destroy it,” Grovan asked.
“I’d imagine so,” Hawle replied. “Groal?”
The engineer shrugged and contemplated the image. “if we had better scans,” he complained, “I could tell you more but this,” he added, pointing to a small part of the plan, “is what I’d make a power manifold out of. I’ve seen it – or something like it – on several space stations and they’re a weak point.”
Una slapped her hands on the table, getting everyone’s attention on her. “What’s all this talk of destruction? If we destroy that, there’s no telling what they’ll do to the people trapped on the surface!”
“You’re right about that,” Hawle mused. “We can’t risk their lives by attacking too early. They don’t seem to have noticed us but we can’t push our luck either. For all we know the guy was asleep at his station when we wandered through their security space!” He looked to Una. “That’s why we can’t leave, by the way. They could easily detect us and intercept or, worse,” he said, indicating the image, “turn THAT on us! We are, however, going to launch a light pod carrying all the information we currently have back towards home. It’ll take… how long, Raven?”
“About a month at its best speed,” the Burman replied,
“...which means it’s naff all use to us,” Hawle finished. “But it’ll key the bosses in on the situation so they can send in requisite forces.”
“So we’re not even going to try diplomacy,” Una questioned, wondering why she was here if she wasn’t needed.
“Oh, there’ll be diplomacy,” Hawle assured her, “one of the strangest facets of war is you can’t start it until you’ve announced it diplomatically. Because that means you’ve not tried to hammer out a deal. But it’ll have to happen in our own time, Colleen.”
“Why so?”
“Because we haven’t got a hammer,” Maze cut in, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “Look, they’ve got all the cards and the only chance we have is that they’ve discounted the Jokers.”
“A nice metaphor for a gambler,” Una remarked pleasantly.
“I’m a test pilot,” Maze shot back. “I know all about playing with losing hands. Main thing is you don’t do it. But we can’t retreat and we can’t attack so we stall. Gather what cards we can.”
“I see what you mean,” Una remarked. “I think. That explorer ship could tip the balance…”
“Not feasible, I’m afraid,” Groal cut in. The Engineer wiped his brow for a few seconds. “That thing had several hundreds in the crew for sciences, engineering, command, medical, everything. Means they built that ship to be crewed by hundreds, not a dozen or so. The few people we have spare couldn’t run it properly, especially in battle, plus we’re not up to spec on those systems any more. People would need to be retrained.”
“Agreed,” Hawle put in. “We can’t use the Bellaphron.”
“What about the Fallir,” Grovan asked.
“Now that,” Hawle replied, trying not to chuckle as his second officer tried to look serious whilst eating a Tuna paste sandwich, “is along the lines of my thoughts. One of those generators can get her up and running in no time flat, especially compared to an Explorer, where the recharge could take up to a week. They can be run by about ten people and we have those to spare. For that, Grovan, you get promoted to my first officer. Of course I’ll have to promote Raven too. Acting Captain of the U.S.C. Clipper ship ‘Fallir’, Sarina?”
“Technically, having command of two ships would make you an Admiral,” Raven remarked.
“I won’t let the power go to my head and neither will acting First Officer Grovan. I expect sage council from you, Harper…”
“You’ll get it.”
“...even if I seem to completely ignore it. I still need to hear it. Now, we have a lot to do. Maze, your fighter’s rigged for stealth, yes?”
“Yeah. Just about. The budget wasn’t there for the best stuff but… You want me to buzz the moon? Get better shots of it?”
“No, I want you to land on the moon a few miles or so from the base and get all the information you can via moonwalk. In the meantime I need an engineer and a pilot to go over to the Bellaphron and get that fighter back here. They left it after taking pieces out, I need those pieces back in.”
“Why,” Una queried, knowing she wouldn’t like the answer.
“Because,” Hawle warned, “when I go down there to scope out the situation on the ground in the camps, I’m not going to be taking them any new technology. I might be able to convince them I’m from the force they sent up earlier and just… broke down or something.”
“You do look like a refugee,” Una remarked.
“Thanks,” He looked over to Night. “Doctor, I’m going to need a subcutaneous transmitter implanted when I go down there. So I can get beamed up in an emergency.”
“Uh,” Una asked, “’beamed up’?”
Hawle looked at her in confusion for a moment before scowling. “Teleported back, I mean.” He shook his head. “I have got to stop watching that show of Chapstons.” He took another sandwich, then hiccuped and put it back when he realised it was a Celican one. “Anyhow,” he finished, “you have your assignments, such as they are. Groal, give Raven a good engineer; Raven, choose nine more people and let’s get to work. We have half a plan.”
“An insane and reckless one that’ll probably fail and get us all killed,” Grovan remarked, mostly seriously.
“I love your optimism, Harper,” Hawle replied, standing up. “Oh, Sarina? Launch that pod before you go, would you?” She nodded. “OK, dismissed.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Going to be looking forward to seeing Hawle off the ship! That is gonna be an interesting chapter!

[Welsh Halfwit]

The good thing about Hawle is I can blame any continuity errors I make and catch later on his rapid planning. And then he can cover it up.

Part 23

Forever interrupted.

A few minutes after the meeting, Hawle was walking down the passageway to the Captain’s office and the facilities therein as Maze hurried to catch up to him. “Er, Captain,” she called and Hawle recalled that she was, technically, a civilian specialist who’d been drafted. “Can I speak with you?”
He stopped. “I’m a Commander, Wing Commander Harty,” he corrected, “and what’s it about?”
She stopped up short and looked confused. “I thought you were the Captain of this ship?”
Hawle smirked. “I am the Captain of this ship. I just happen to be a Commander. As the senior officer aboard, I act as the Captain without the rank or the pay cheque. It’s a way they keep the budget down. Now,” he repeated, “what’s up?”
“It’s,” she scritched the back of her neck as she thought on how to say this. “There’s a flaw in your plan, sir,” she said hesitantly.
“I made it up on the spot, Maze. I’m surprised there’s enough of it to provide enough basis to have a flaw.” Now Hawle chose to look confused. “Did that make sense?”
“No,” Maze replied, “but I think I got it. Anyway, you’re planning on taking a Starlancer IV down to the planet?”
Hawle wondered what she was getting at. He thought back over that part of the plan and, eventually, hit on the problem. “I was wondering who’d remember Starlancer IV’s aren’t capable of operating in an atmosphere first. Good on you.”
“You’d forgotten, hadn’t you,” Maze chuckled.
Hawle had the dignity to look offended. “A Captain never forgets,” he claimed, “and, when we have flaws in our plans, it’s to see who’s paying attention.”
Maze leaned on the wall. “I thought you were just a Commander?”
Hawle spread his hands innocently. “I’m the definitive article of a Captain on this ship,” he claimed. “Change of plans, then. Any of your pilots trained on Mark IV’s?”
Maze thought for a moment. “Jarra’s an old Dog,” she mused. “I think he trained on Mark V’s.”
“Isn’t he your deck chief?”
“Pilots don’t stay pilots that long, sir. We’re lucky he’s still here. Your idea might work though. The fighters the Fallir would have had are the same model as the ones here. They can handle an atmosphere.”
“Yes, of course,” Hawle reasoned, “the Fallir was a ship on the central patrol routes. Lots of flag waving and budget. Those patrollers got the newer ‘lancers’ a year before they got to the patch. Shame it doesn't seem to have any loaded. Looks like I'll need to use a shuttle. Still, you need the extra pilot.” Hawle patted down his pockets and found a small paper notepad. He scrawled a message on it and folded it up before handing it to Wing Leader Harty. “If he protests, give him that. Then go take the lead and get those scans. We can’t move without them.” He made to enter his office and, to his surprise, he found Colleen Una sat there, waiting for him.

The Collian nodded to the Champagne Raitchian as the pilot headed off and Hawle wondered if anyone else was waiting in line to ambush him. “I was wondering why we weren’t able to move beforehand,” the Ambassador asked.
“I’ll tell you in a few moments,” Hawle said, crossing the room. “You may want to order a drink.” So saying, he entered the facilities.

A few minutes later he emerged and crossed to his own seat on the opposite side of the table to Una. “It’s the simplest of things,” he remarked. “We got lucky in getting here. Well, we can assume so anyway. Since we got here we can tell they have detection sensors that can detect ships in their space lanes. It may well be that it’s a short range thing and we stayed outside the range but we can’t take that risk. Now,” he added, “the pivotal thing to remember about movement sensors like Radar is this. They can’t detect you if you’re not moving and play dead. Fighters and shuttles use much less power than this ship so they’re much harder to detect. We’re parked next to a smaller ship than ours so we can assume that whatever that thing on the moon is, it can detect smaller ships than us hundreds of light years away…”
“Which does seem to mean they should have spotted us on the way in,” Una agreed. “Do you think they found it?”
Hawle nodded. “Could well be, I suppose. A species makes it out into space. The first place they always go is their moon. They find something left by the ancients…”
Una snorted. “The ancients?”
“Those who came before. Gods, advanced civilisations, whatever. You’d be surprised how many advanced civilisations leave litter strewn around like confetti. We’ve probably found hundreds of items that the science divisions will never tell anyone about.” Hawle thought for a moment, then sat forward and put his arms on the table. “I wonder if we can pick up their televid transmissions? The translator can get to work and, perhaps, you could learn things about the world from up here?”
Una started slightly, surprised by the sudden change of topic. “Um, I suppose?” She mused. “provided they have impartial news channels. Vicious dictatorships don’t tend to tell the truth, Commander.”

Maze had managed to convince Jarra that he was going back in the cockpit and she almost enjoyed the look of fear, shock and love in his face as he thought of piloting a Mark IV again. Your first ship, she thought, is always the one you love most. Even if you complain about it more than anything. He’d doubted her until she’d handed over Hawle’s note. He’d read it, swallowed hard, and handed it back to her. ‘Get your backside in that cockpit’, it read. Signed by the Commander. It’d be a short while before the fighter could be transferred over from the explorer so he had time to replay his past glories in his head.

Now, however, she was setting out on a new mission. This wasn’t quite what she’d signed up for but she supposed it had to be done. The advanced Starlancer slid through space towards the moon, keeping her power low and steady as she went. It was only going to be a short trip from here and she engaged thrusters only when needed to keep hidden behind the horizon. She came in low, behind cold, rocky, ‘hills’ and landed to carry out her mission.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Liking this story more and more as you continue to write it out! Awesome work!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 24

Moonwalk.

Maze Harty made sure her suit was on properly and disconnected the air feed from the fighter so the internal supply activated. The display showed 99% and five hours supply before she voided the atmosphere from the cockpit and opened the canopy. She gripped the handrail and threw herself out of the ship, using her forward momentum to swing around on the handrail before engaging the gravity controls on her boots to attach herself to the grey sand of the moon. The light was rising somewhere beyond the horizon. The reflections of a hundred, fragmented, suns on the spaceship graveyard lit the ground in a faint grey shade. Not really enough for her to see so Maze lit up the lights on her wrists to pick out the ground. She picked the handheld scanner up from the side of the ship, where Groal had attached it, and set off towards the tower structure some miles away.

Sciences wanted her to get some scans of the lunar surface as she went and pick up some samples and Maze didn’t think there was much wrong with that as it happened. She stooped and picked up a small handful of the surface to put in one of her pouches and found herself staring at a footprint. She ran the scanner over it and took a picture as this thin, angular, print wasn’t of a species she’d encountered before. Rather than the normal, rounded tips and wider middle, this seemed more of an elongated triangle with a rounded rear end. It was some fifteen inches in length from tip to ‘toe’ and, now that she’d seen one of them, she could see a trail leading from the complex and off to the horizon that faced the planet. Maze worried about this for a few moments. There was only one track, there and, she noted, back. There was no telling how old the prints were and it did indicate that someone here had moonwalk capabilities. These weren’t good thoughts but she didn’t have time to try a different route, she had to try this one. She did, however, ready her gun. Just in case. She also adjusted the gravity on her boots, allowing her to take longer steps. Somewhere around thirty foot long steps, in fact. It did raise her somewhat higher, of course, but she hoped she’d still be undetectable.

Hawle was taking the time to look through the applications he’d had on his computer since before they’d left Talvary Communal station. He’d run out of reasons to put off looking into the hopefuls who’d applied to join his crew without him or a senior head actually requesting them. That and looking through resumes tended to bore him to tears. One here sparked his interest though. He tapped his comm. “Hawle to Chapston,” he said.
<”Chapston here,”> her voice responded.
“Can you step into my office for a moment?”
<”Wilco.”>
He cut the line and waited for her to knock and enter. “I just wanted your opinion on a potential new crew member,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.
“I doubt ah know much about new crew member’s,” Sarah replied, a little confused about why she was there.
“One of the Talvary lot wants to transfer from maintenance on the station to general Engineering on the ship.”
Now Sarah looked really confused. “Tha’s almost less pay,” she protested.
“Hmm,” Hawle nodded, “I noted that. But I have no objections if his work’s up to scratch and he’s sane. I don’t think he’s planning on the move for the money, though. It’s a Russellian named Marius Polva.”
Sarah seemed to shrink a few inches. “I know him,” she replied.
“I know you know him,” Hawle replied, allowing the smile onto his face. “It came to my attention you spent much of the week before we left in his company. You’ve seen a lot more of him than I have… Possibly a lot more of him than anyone bar his mother has, even. So you probably know better than I do what he’s like. IS he liked, for one thing?” He gestured to the other chair. “And sit down. You’re getting me a crick in the neck.”

Maze hunkered as low to the rocks as she could so she could look on the structure ahead of her through the zoom function in her helmet. A tapered spire struck out from the surface and extended some fifty metres into the ‘sky’ from a base that was maybe a quarter of a mile wide. As they’d assumed, the spire seemed to be a lot older than the box-like constructions around the base and she started to take readings to see what the sensors could see from here. Lights on the main structure indicated interior rooms and windows capable of withstanding the pressures of space. They were absent on the structures around the base although she was sure she recognised some of the components on the closest ones as being based on technology from Council races. Parts of ships, possibly. She made to get closer whilst staying out of the few lights that might pick her out. She had to put her gravity boots back to normal settings so it was a longer slog, especially with the scanner set to automatic.

She shut the suit lights off as she neared the complex, the silent walls towering over her. Now was the moment she expected to be detected if there was ever going to be a time, so she put the scanner underneath a small outcrop, set it to automatic scan, and backed away at her best speed.
The nearest door began to open and someone stepped out, their suit cast into blackness against the light of the interior airlock. The figure turned towards where she’d been, holding an arm out and, seemingly, scanning for her. She observed the strange mixture of technologies about him. He – provided it was a he – was wearing wrist computers and scanners, something that could be a gun on one wrist and oxygen cylinders on his back, connected by tubes to the helmet. An antennae rose from the back of the pack and Maze wondered about that as a weak point. It was something she might just have to make use of as first target. She backed off a little and picked up a chunk of rock as he came ever closer. She’d trapped herself. She couldn’t go too far from the scanner in case he found that but there was precious little cover here. Even the stealth filaments in her suit might not be effective against the scanner the enemy – and she reasoned he WAS the enemy – was carrying.

Colleen Una sat at the sciences station, observing the transmissions from the planet below, which called itself Varkonia. The Varkonians seemed to resemble Brockians crossed with some sort of Osiran, Fur and scaled skin competing for space on their bodies and three toes on each foot. They seemed to be hierarchical with a capital to the north side of the planet. They portrayed themselves as fair and equal in their shows but Colleen couldn’t help but notice that things seemed rather… samey in their programming. The three dramas she’d seen since the translator had gotten the language down all seemed to follow the same line of the government being good and, possibly, great. So did the news, although they did give an amount of time to the other parties. About ten percent of the time they were giving to the ruling party. She made notes but she didn’t trust the government to be entirely democratic.

Maze made her way to slightly deeper cover and lowered her gun as he neared. Their only chance of maintaining cover was for him to go away. But he wasn’t going to do that. He was looking around now, virtually on top of her. And not looking at her. She pushed herself up and aimed the swing of her rock directly at the base of his antennae. The rock cracked the metal shaft off and she began pulling at his air tubes before he could turn around and bring that gun to bear on her.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This chapter is just as wonderful as the other chapters! It gets two thumbs up from me!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Improvisation is your friend...

Part 25

New plan

Ambassador (Junior Grade) Colleen Una took notes and kept on taking them as she watched the local world’s televidion – their word for it, not hers- and observed the activities of their ‘Comandrex-in-chief’. He was opening a new factory today and she paid special note to how he was addressed by the manager. The bow seemed forced but needed. Diplomacy in a dictatorship tended to mean everyone was diplomatic to the dictator and, if you weren’t, he could be very undiplomatic back. He carried himself with utter confidence and they kept their eyes from him. Arrogant, she thought. Privileged beyond the norm, even for his rank. It spoke to her of hereditary ascension to the throne. He’d probably been raised for this from birth and…
The door to her room booped and she paused the play. Then she remembered that it was coming in live and wasn’t able to be paused so she muted it and bade the booper enter.

Hawle stepped into the room and saw that she was doing her homework as he’d assigned. He looked a little… fidgety for her liking. “How… how are you getting along,” he asked.
“Oh,” she breezed, “not so badly. In the last few hours I’ve watched a brainless drama that was overly cheery, an action series that showed the police in their brightest light, several documentaries on how their social programs are improving the lives of everyone and two news programs about Mr Eevak there,” she finished, indicating the vid.
“Sounds like a utopia in building, doesn’t it,” Hawle mentioned optimistically.
“Yup,” Una said.
“So, dictatorship, then?”
“Yup.”
“How soon do you think you’ll be able to work out the diplomatic terms to deal with the situation in which we find ourselves?”
“Oh,” Una sighed, “I can probably compose diplomatic arguments within the week but I don’t know if it’ll work or not and…”
“Good, good,” Hawle said in a jovial tone. “Well, things do change at times. Maze got the scans Groal needed but, unfortunately, she had to murder someone in the process so we probably have hours before it’s noticed, if that.”
Una slapped her hands down. “So what do we do now,” she demanded, possibly in too high a tone.
“What I often do,” Hawle said, “Make up a plan as we go along. Well,” he said, clicking his heels together as he prepared to turn, “I’m just off to kidnap the president…”
“Commandrex-in-chief,” Una corrected before her eyes bugged and she held her hands up, hooked into claws by what she couldn't just have heard him say, “and he’s… hang on, you’re WHAT,” she exclaimed.
“Well, I’d planned to go down there and look into the situation on the surface, visit the prison camps undercover and all that sort of thing but, now, things have to accelerate. He’s the guy I need to speak to,” he began to conclude, pointing at the male on screen, “so I’m going to get him. Then I’ll bring him back here and you can do the diplomacy thing. Oh, check a cooking show, see if there’s anything we can copy with our ingredients and set Chef onto it.” He stepped back to the door, leaving Una slightly slack-jawed.

He stopped in on Pangal and noted that she was ready to head out with him. Her squad of three was assembled, Lappineans all, and were ready for the off in security armour. “Ready to go, Jaqui,” he asked.
“As ready as I can be for something that’s technically illegal,” the security chief replied.
“It’s not illegal,” Hawle replied. “The leader of a government that we don’t recognise has been kidnapping people and ships for decades. That machine’s an intolerable threat to any ship anywhere in our space, apparently. Both those things are close to acts of war. It was OK for him to do it when we didn’t know but, now we do, we have to react. I have an ambassador on board, which most ships don’t have and, quite frankly, they’re less likely to shoot at us whilst he’s up here.”
“Fair enough,” Pangal replied. “And why all Lappineans in the shuttle?”
“I want to frighten the guy, not confuse the heck out of him.” Hawle shrugged. “If you’ve got a big stick, it needs to be on the table in pre negotiations.”
“You know what he looks like?”
“Una’s been watching him on vid. She pointed him out.” Hawle pulled up an image of the Commandrex and pointed to the shoulder sashes. “He seems to be the only one that gets to wear them.”
“Right ho,” Jaqui said, hoisting a large weapon.
“Jaqui, we want to intimidate him, not incinerate him.”
“You think this isn’t intimidating?”
“Point.”

The shuttle slid out of the launch bay as soon as Maze’s fighter slowed and stopped close by. As the shuttle cleared the bay, Hawle felt Chapston would have begun the slow revolve needed to bring the main ship around to follow them. Grovan was in charge up on the bridge as Raven was busy with her new duties and Hawle knew that Harper understood his instructions to follow them on dead slow. Essentially, the Loper was to look like a comet on screens, just an errant rock meandering it’s way past the world. Nothing to see here. It would provide some screen for the smaller shuttle for one thing. For another it would make the trip back a lot shorter. Hawle, a pilot at heart, laid in the angle of descent and engaged. He tested the emergency teleport mechanism power conduits and conductors worked adequately. Groal had run the usual tests except the ‘acid’ test and the Commander figured that was coming up soon.

The small ship settled into high orbit over the target and Hawle began laying out the scanning drones on a search pattern. “OK,” he said heavily, “we’ve just set off several scanners according to the computers here. We’ve probably got about ten minutes before someone shoots us down.” The shuttle fired a shot automatically. “Or they could shoot a missile at us immediately,” Hawle corrected, taking evasive action as the drones hunted their target. “Interesting,” he said as he pulled the ship around. “Scanners’ picking up a Feline near the target.” He twisted the ship around again as the anti missile laser fired again. The group of natives were beginning to move quickly now, covering the one in the middle on the heat traces. “Got him,” Hawle said, focussing the beam on the middle figure. “I’m going to try and grab the Feline too.”
“It’s an emergency teleporter, sir,” Pangal replied, “it might not be able to do that!”
Hawle sighed. “You’re right, Jaqui. One at a time. Weapons ready. First attack running.” He pressed some buttons and the teleport systems engaged, dragging aboard a furious looking native who looked around at the massed firepower and loudly protested his defiance. “Welcome aboard, your majesty,” Hawle called back as he locked on to the Feline, “welcome to your kidnap. We have a LOT to discuss.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

I just love how Hawle casually tells somebody they are kidnapped. He really is just so unceremonious about announcing it!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Well, Hawle doesn't do plan B, C or D. He just changes plan A if it's not working.

Putting up another bit as I can't tomorrow.

Part 26

Commandrex

A swift movement and the mystery Feline was held in the pattern buffer until the Commandrex was ushered forward from the transport pad and into the command section. Then Hawle completed the teleport command and urged the alien leader to sit down as the ground crews were still firing at them. “It’s better than cracking your head on the ceiling,” he urged, turning sharply to port.
The Commandrex noted the two guards that had followed them and decided not to challenge them right this moment. He sat sullenly in the co-pilot’s seat, where the controls weren’t working. “What is the meaning of this,” he demanded. “How DARE you kidnap me!”
“I note you don’t ask who we are,” Hawle retorted. “So you probably know and that renders your point about kidnapping absolutely hilarious, wouldn’t you say? Now, we’ll be docking with my ship soon so then you can call the ground and tell them you’re involved in negotiations with a desire to sort out certain ‘problems’ on the surface.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Well,” Hawle shrugged, “it’s your money and missiles they’re shooting and you they’ll be shooting AT.”

In the back, the Feline appeared, a battered, bedraggled, individual with a firearm in hand. He staggered forward as the effect faded and dropped the gun as the ship twisted. Pangal caught him and stopped his head from hitting the floor. “I..,” he said, confused, “wha..? What?” he swallowed. “Who a..are y..you,” he asked hoarsely. “A… Lappinean?”
“Your eyes are working. Jaqui Pangal,” Pangal replied. “Security Chief, U.S.C. Loper.”
He struggled as Pangal got him to a seat but Pangal got the feeling it was from excitement more than fear. “A… A coun...council ship,” he said as Pangal got him some water. “Really? And… and you’re still… free?”
“Pretty much,” Pangal said, giving him water one sip at a time. “Who are you?”
“L...lieutenant Tastan, Engineering department, U.S.C. Fallir.” He coughed something nasty up onto his ripped top. “What… what class is Loper? Battleship? Hea...heavy cruiser?”
Pangal looked pityingly at him. “Frigate. Sorry. We’ll be docking shortly. I’ll notify Doctor Barleycorn to get you to sickbay.”
“You shouldn’t… shouldn’t have stopped me,” Tastan gasped. “They have… have to pay.”
“First we try the other way, Lieutenant,” Pangal said. “Funny you mention that ship, by the way. You know it’s intact?”
“They k…” he finished the offered water. “keep them for… for when they plan to… ‘expand’ inf<cough>influence. But they… they don’t know h..how to work them like we do.”
“Later for that, Tastan,” Pangal assured him. “We have plans for the Fallir, by the way. She’s being repowered now.”

Raven sat in the seat and wiggled. She wasn’t fond of this older model of chair or, indeed, the bridge of this ship. The Loper’s bridge was hardly spacious but the clipper’s bridge was a comparative matchbox too close to the hull for her liking. There was a Captain’s seat and a second officer’s pew. Weapons and the helm were the only other stations on the bridge, with sciences and medical being run from the sickbay and the comms from her own station. Engineering was half the size of the Lopers and run by half the staff too. She was armed with twin pulse cannons and shields and a decent engine which could probably match the Lopers in a race. She wasn’t designed to be a heavyweight contender, Raven thought, “but she was designed to be able to handle the problems on the ‘safe’ routes around the core worlds. “Raven to engineering,” she said, tapping her comm.
<”Scarra here,”>
“You mean my Chief of engineering, right?”
<”Uh, yes, ma’am,”> the Mican replied. <”Engineering here.”>
“How’s things looking down there?”
<”Everything looks shipshape, Captain.”> Raven looked around for Hawle before remembering that Scarra meant her. <”We have power for the weapons and shields. Full Warpspace velocity will take longer but the engines are working.”>
“Do what you can for the engines,” Raven commanded, wishing she could test the weapons. This was, technically, impossible for the simple reason that any test firing would warn anyone on the moon station that they were actually there. They had a better chance if they got in the first strike…. Well, first. “I don’t plan to hang around.”
<”Wilco, Captain.”>
Raven began powering up her own station. She needed the comms up and running for when the Capta… Hawle called her to do her part. For her part, all she needed to do was wait. And run another systems check.

The shuttle landed quickly, almost skidding to a stop as Doctor Fuze stood waiting with a gurney. He was almost exactly where he needed to be when it stopped, and the door opened to the main cabin. Pangal carried the Feline out and sat him on the medical conveyance. “You got anything you want to tell me about that’s wrong with you,” the young Medic asked.
“Are you… kidding,” Tastan coughed as Fuze applied the straps.
“Nope,” Fuze replied. “It’ll take a little time for the computers to pull up your file, so we need to know if you’ve got allergies and long term injuries.” He began pushing the gurney out.
“Only to smart alec Raitchians,” Pangal heard him say before he was out of sight.
“Now for the other guy,” she muttered as another missile was hit by the fighter defence guns.

Hawle opened the door and indicated the Commandrex should lead the way. “At least I’ll be able to see this ship of yours before we kill you all,” he warned.
“Oh, your lot are pretty good at overwhelming shocked and stunned crews, I’ll give you that,” Hawle allowed. “But we’re neither. You’ve got enough that you’d probably win,” he admitted, before closing to speak directly into the Commandrex’s ear, “but we’ll give you a MASSIVE repair bill. Come on.” He pushed the alien leader down onto the landing bay. “Hawle to Dawton,” he told his comm. “Signal the government on the world below and put them through to the landing bay, would you?”
<”Confrmed, Captain,”> the Human remarked. <”You’re on, sir.”>
Hawle stepped behind the console and activated the speaker. “Hello, hello,” Hawle said, tapping the mic. “Is this on? Hello? Who am I talking to?”
The Commandrex looked at Hawle and noted the play. The Lappinean acted slightly more stupid than he was to get others to underestimate him. He’d have to remember that.
<”This is assistant Commandrex Jass,”> said a voice from the surface. <”Return our leader at ONCE!”>
“Oh, hello. I don’t think we will. We need to speak with him for a while on certain subjects. Then we’ll return him unharmed. But that’s reliant on you not shooting us out of the skies. Call off your attack.”
<”I need to speak with the Commandrex-In-Chief.”>
Hawle gestured for the leader to step to the microphone. “I am here, Jass,” he said. He swallowed. “I have no reason to believe these aliens are going to harm me. Stand by but do not attack.”
<”I’m sorry, sir, did you just say ‘attack the enemy ship and try to rescue you’? We’ll do that right away.”> And the line cut off.
“Heeee….” Hawle said, drawing out the word, “doesn’t like you much, does he?”
Commandrex Eevak looked slightly pale as he turned to Hawle. “If I die, he gets my job.”
“Wonderful.” He tapped the comm. “Hawle to bridge. Chapston, get us moving! Dawton, tell Raven to get on her mission!”

[Amazee Dayzee]

What a really great job with this chapter! I also liked the little bit of comedy you put in there!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 27

Diplomacy.

Raven heard the call and started her part of the plan. She ordered the helm into action and advised everyone to hold onto something as the helm spun the ship around on the spot, engaging the forward thruster engines on the starboard side and the reverse thrusters on the port to spin the ship on the spot, pushing the internal dampers to the limit before stopping in their new direction. Raven waited until her eyes uncrossed before ordering the attack pattern to be laid in. “I hate that type of thing,” she complained as the ship powered towards the moon. The weapons station officer powered up the cannons and fired on the target that had already been programmed into the computer.

On the surface, close to the tower, the shields began to power into life to protect their prize but failed as the Fallir’s shots hit close to target and blitzed their way through the underground cabling. “A miss is as good as a mile,” Raven said, “but we fluked a hit. Recalibrate and fire again, Uyre!” The Canine on station nodded and checked his calculations to target the guns more carefully. They’d only damaged the power lines. They could be repaired. Defence stations on the moon fired low calibre energy back up at them as he fired again.

“Where exactly are you taking me,” Commandrex Eevak demanded as Hawle took him through the ship in cuffs. “And why have you handcuffed me? It’s not like I was fighting you!”
“Merely protocol,” Hawle remarked, keeping to himself the fact that he’d done it to re-enforce the idea that he was in charge. “Makes everyone else feel safer. I’ll take them off in the conference room, where Ambassador Una is waiting. She may even have something edible. Then we can sort out what happens next. I’m needed on the bridge.” He pushed the door to the conference room open and escorted the leader inside, the two guards keeping step behind.

The conference room now bore two plates with an egg salad on the table, replete with strips of a meat Hawle couldn’t identify. There was a pitcher of water and two glasses next to the two plates. Colleen Una stood to the side of the table and stepped forward, offering her hand. She frowned and, then, glared at Hawle. “Commander,” she implored, “was that necessary?”
“Yup,” Hawle replied, undoing the cuffs. “But now it’s not.” He turned to the guards. “You two remain here. Take action if he threatens her.” So saying, Hawle stepped from the room and the guards flanked the door.
The Commandrex rubbed his wrists and stepped forward to grip her hand in the manner she’d seen on the newscasts, putting the three longer fingers to her wrist as she did his. “I object to the manner of this meeting,” he said coldly. “I object to being dragged up here.”
Una nodded. “And I object to your kidnapping of several thousand space-goers and I object to your shooting at the ship I am travelling on.”
Eevak nodded back. “You have studied our customs?”
“Very much a crash course, I’m afraid,” She gestured for him to sit down. “I’m not here to confirm things,” she said, “I’m here to get things going and start the work towards resolution.”
“At the moment, the only resolution I want is the rather swift death of my second-in-command,” Eevak snapped, moving around to the other side of the table. “Can you help me with that?”
“That’s internal at the point where it stops affecting us,” Una said honestly, “but we can provide a way forward and resolve our issues.”
“We have no trust of outsiders,” Eevak proclaimed.
“Which explains why you’ve been imprisoning them but not why you’ve been kidnapping them.”
Eevak cursed but poured himself some water. “We had no choice,” he spat. “We found that… thing on the moon. We never should have turned it on. The first ship it brought to us was hostile but we fought to overpower the crew. Then it kept bringing ships...”
“Well,” Una shrugged as Eevak studied an egg, “I think the Commander’s looking for a way to turn it off on a permanent basis.”

“Put us on course for the moon to help out Raven,” Hawle commanded Chapston as he got back to the bridge, “but keep us between the Fallir and the planet. I have a feeling company’s coming.” He hopped into his seat a few seconds after Grovan had shifted out. “Lot’s of armed shuttles and people with guns. The kind of party guests you don’t want to meet your folks.”
“They launched two minutes back,” Chapston replied. “be on us in three minutes, like?” She engaged the course to the moon. “Ten now, yeah,” she added. “Few might get ‘ere faster.”
“Launch fighters,”

Wing leader Harty was almost thankful the deck chief had been on station and capable of flying a stick. It wasn’t likely that he’d be able to keep up in a large scale, full range, scrap but this was likely to be fairly close quarters and the ancient fighter could hold it’s own there, as long as the parts didn’t rattle apart on take-off. She knew the task and the test. Try to disable or destroy the incoming shuttles and keep them off the Fallir and the Loper. “Eyes open,” she instructed as she led the launch schedule, “incoming coming soon.” The Mark IV would be last out, she’d decided. Just in case. The thing may have the edge on the turn but she wanted as many ships out as possible. She needed the numbers.

Raven held on as her little ship swept over the moonscape, incoming blasts smacking near harmlessly into the Fallir’s shields as her guns pounded the ground around the shield generation plant. “Get accurate,” she ordered the gunner and he winced as he adjusted the settings AGAIN and hoped this time it’d work properly. The twin bolts slammed straight into the generation suite and it blew out in all directions, steel and other metals ripping apart and thrusting outward, away from the energy source. The bubble of trapped atmosphere pulsed into nothingness as the ship fired directly on the artefact spire itself.

“He’s going to destroy the spire,” Eevak asked, almost hopefully.
“Knowing him, he’s going to have a good try,” Una replied.
“That may end the invasion threat,” the Commandrex admitted. “Of course, it could well take half the moon with it.” He looked at Una. “You DO know it takes power from the moon’s core, yes?”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Glad that you have updated this! I like where it is going!

[Welsh Halfwit]

We're getting close to her arrival....

But not yet.

Part 28

Shuttles and Old Fighters.

Maze watched the swarm of approaching shuttles on her systems. “OK,” she ordered over her radio, “engage shielding and get ready to engage. Target their engines if you can and immobilize them. If you can’t do that it’s at your discretion. Don’t rely on them all having the same weak points as they’re a wild assortment. If they get past us to the Loper we could have a LONG trip home so we winnow the numbers so the Loper’s anti-fighter weaponry can handle them. Flight two and Eight, hang back with the Chief; pick off those that get past us. Everyone else? Throttle on and let’s get into them! Let them fire first, though,” She added, recalling protocol as it applied to the good guys. With that said, she accelerated towards the opposition.

Raven watched as her new ship scored a succession of hits on the main tower of the moon weapon and chunks slowly sailed off the structure around the tower, revealing more of the internal mechanisms for the Fallir to attack on her next run. The weapons turrets on the surface began to concentrate their fire and the weapons officer reported the shields were down to eighty percent. “Fair enough,” Raven called back, “put them out of my misery before they do us some proper damage.”
The gunner targetted the weapons stations.

“You have a fear of other-worlders, I believe,” Una said, discretely showing Eevak how to cut up the egg with the strange cutlery. He fiddled to hold the fork, bending it forward unnaturally. “I apologise for the cutlery,” she added diplomatically, “but we had no time to make Varkonian tableware.”
“I can understand that,” Eevak replied, “although it’s quite simple. Your Captain does know about the power of the weapon, yes?”
“Probably. But I return you to the other-worlders. Why haven’t you asked for help from them? Some of them may know how to turn it off?”
“And which should we trust it to,” the Commandrex replied. “We cannot trust any of them not to take control of the weapon for their species own use and, thus, invade us.”
“And you kept the ships around why?”
“My father decided we should. If other races were coming to attack us, they should forfeit their rights to freedom and we should learn how to use their ships to attack them if we ever needed to. It also meant we needed to keep as many of the people on the ships alive.”
“That’s… rather specific,” Una admitted sceptically.
Eevak smiled, almost unpleasantly. “Perhaps my Father wanted something to bargain with if anyone came looking?”

Jaqui Pangal walked into the sickbay and stood close to the diagnostic bed where the strapped down form of Lieutenant Tastan was being scanned and analysed by the ship’s computer and Doctor Barleycorn. “Where’s the other guy,” the security Chief asked.
“Taking a break,” Night replied, not turning her head from the visual readings. “He’d been on station for four hours without one so I sent him to take Coffee.”
“Not because you wanted to be the one doing this,” Jaqui asked, indicating the patient.
“Absolutely not,” Night lied. “I do have to do things by regulations, you know?” She tapped the screen. “The Fallir was lost almost two years back,” she told the Chief. “His records match the 3rd Engineer of that ship according to records but… In that time he’s lost almost forty pounds in weight, three broken bones, contusions to the wrists, neck and arms. Three of his claws have been pulled out, along with three of his teeth. He’s dehydrated and has had some damage to his stomach repaired after what I presume was a knife blow and he has scarring.”
“He’s been through the wars, then,” Jaqui said, looking up at the monitor. “Tortured?”
“Unsure,” Night replied, turning away from the screen. “I mean, sure, these are signs of primitive torture but,” she said, putting her hands onto her desk, “it could just be prison neglect. Stuff a few thousand prisoners in an area with few facilities and little medical care and they’ll eat each other before long. So I can’t say anything for certain whilst he’s under.”
Pangal gripped the wall as the ship twisted, the gyroscope keeping the bed stable. “How long is he going to be under sedation?”
The ship ‘flinched’ under impact from a shot and Night looked up to the ceiling, possibly making sure it was still there. “I’d want him under for a day,” the big Mican said, “but you probably want him answering questions sooner. I can give you some time in about half an hour. Provided we’re still here.”

Deck chief Jarra cursed his old, failing, memory as he was fractions off in his movements and his instincts must have slowed in the last seventeen years or so. He was still afraid, of course, but it was more fear of failing now that fear of falling so he swallowed his courage and kept on at the nearest shuttle that had targetted the Loper. His guns weren’t as powerful as the ones on the latest models but they still had enough power to do the job when cycled up to full. He managed to breach the thrusters to the bottom starboard rear of the ship and pulled away to avoid overtaking. One of his ‘shepherds’ finished the job, ripping out the guts of the drive system. He heard the pilot, the cocksure youngster Restik, talk into his helmet. <”You knock ‘em down, Chief, and I’ll knock ‘em out!”> Despite himself, Jarra liked the tone of the youngster’s voice. It was something he’d often noted, pilot’s having more respect for those they’d actually flown with in combat. Perhaps he’d go a little easier on the fighter he was piloting now? Jarra pulled himself onto the tail of a second target.

Raven cycled for another attack on the structure and watched as the top exploded in a case of cascading lightning that flashed out for miles in every direction. “Veer off,” she ordered and the ship twisted away as a bolt shredded against the underside of the shields as they strove for distance.
“Shields to twenty percent, Commander,” the weapons officer called.
“Now what,” Raven said, feeling like her objective had only been halfway accomplished. The thing was damaged but still standing and that energy had walloped sixty percent off the shields in one shot. Another like that could be devastating. “Transfer half of the forward shield power to the rear,” she instructed, “and let’s get back to the Loper.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

You know that one of the things I am waiting for is going to be her arrival. You already know the other one...

Really nice job on this chapter!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 29

Link up.

Maze checked her screen again. Some of these shuttles were, it seemed, a lot tougher to hit than others, obviously from races more advanced than the Council. She was thankful for the fact that most of them weren’t designed to act as equivalent to fighters. More fighter bombers, she supposed, being designed for dual purposes without really committing to either. She pulled her fighter around, tight on the tail of one of these advanced ones; one she’d be quite happy to take back to Monta Weapontech so they could examine it (and pay her). She fired again and watched the shots slam against the thing’s rear shielding. She had no idea if she was hurting it but it wouldn’t hurt her to keep trying. So she did, concentrating her fire on the section she’d just hit. Two other shuttles locked onto her but she trusted her wing support to deal with them – or, at least, distract them. She’d not had much training time with this group but she sensed they were roughly up to the task. A little rooster-sure at times and, with her in the heat of the battle, she was quite relieved that she had something of an armchair quarterback in play with Jarra in the Mark IV. When he wasn’t involved in the fighting, he was giving out orders like a Deck Chief to his crew of engineers. She’d decided she’d tell him off later as he’d not asked her permission first, but she’d not tear him off a strip. He was in a better position to… she paused her thoughts as she pulled to starboard, evading a strike from above by a small but speedy craft. She’d lost target on the one she’d been pursuing so dove after her new friend.

“What...mmph… are you telling me, Una,” Hawle demanded over the comms as the Loper swatted another shuttle.
<”That the Commandrex might be able to call off this attack if he’s allowed to speak to the military command.”>
“Or order the execution of prisoners to gain his release. Give me a good reason to trust him, Una.”
He heard nothing for a moment before she admitted something. <”I can’t, Commander,”>
“And you’re still trying to persuade me anyway. OK,” he stated, “that’s good enough. Does he know where the Military Commander he’s trying to speak to is?”
<”He says he’ll be in the Southern Command post.”>
“Right,” Hawle said. “And where’s that? Sod it, bring him up here. He can point it out on a screenshot or something!” He turned to Chapston. “Chappers, as soon as Raven gets back here, plot a course for the planet.” He looked at the lightning shooting out of the smashed tower. “It looks like one of the old station idents on those films you insist on making me watch.”
“I don’t make you watch them, Captain,” Sarah replied, “you do that all on your own.”
“Well, seeing how other Commanders handle situations is good research, Sarah!”
“Funny how often we never do things like other Commanders,” Grovan added, before reacting with surprise to the fact he’d just said that. “Uh, I mean…”
“I take them on board, Harper,” Hawle admonished. “I factor everything in and then make it up as I go along based on the deductions. Served me well so far.”
Grovan had to agree.

Eevak was escorted to a communication station as Hawle started for the planet, diverting around the shuttle fight as it continued to rage. The fighters were doing their best but the fighter interception weapons were beginning to run hot now, detonating a number of shuttles that got too close. One of them fired a fizzing blue bolt of energy that passed straight through the shields and detonated on the nose of the ship. “Targetting sensors are down,” the weapons officer called as the Fallir fired on the shuttle, knocking her sideways, into the path of one of Hardy’s Starlancers.

Down in the Sickbay, Night Barleycorn kept her scanners running on Tastan but took time to examine the tattered clothing, running them through analysis machines to identify blood matches and gene prints from fur and other evidence. She examined a piece of paper that appeared to be written in Feline and put it aside. She’d need to show it to Pangal later. For now it could stay in her desk. The boots he had been wearing hadn’t been his, they were a size too small. It must have caused trouble for his walking. They apparently belonged on the Bellaphron, judging by the out of date council emblem on the inner sole. They’d almost been worn through. She checked over his pads again and injected them with collagen to fix half the damage down there.
“He’s supposed to be my patient, you know,” Fuze stated, stepping back into the bay with Coffee and a sandwich.
“I sent you to have lunch,” Barleycorn told him unceremoniously, “not to bring it back here.”
“And I didn’t,” the Raitchian replied, shrugging. “This is yours. I figured you wouldn’t want to leave me alone in here so I brought it back. You,” he added, “have been working as long as I have. Regulations apply to you as well, you know?”
“Stop trying to get around me, Fuze.”
“I’m not,” he half lied, “I’m trying to get you to understand you can… does is always feel like that when shots hit us,” he asked as the ship rocked. “You can trust me,” he finished.
“I don’t KNOW you, Fu… Bazil,” Night countered. “But you’re probably right.” She took the food. “I’m not going to thank you for this, you know,” she added, almost giving him a small smile.
“Wouldn’t expect it, boss,” Fuze replied. Small steps, he told himself, small steps.

“I speak here,” Eevak said, pointing to a microphone.
“Only if you want to be heard,” Hawle said, stepping into the room. “But first you tell me what you’re going to be saying.”
The Commandrex had the right to look affronted and he exploited that right, his facial scaled splitting and tightening as he bared his teeth slightly. “I will be telling him to withdraw his forces and prepared to take the deputy into custody on a charge of treason and betrayal! It is a situation that could lead to all out conflict. He might appreciate some assistance.”
“Which I’m afraid we can’t give,” Hawle said.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Glad you posted this next chapter! Just a few more until someone makes her debut appearance!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 30

Landfall.

“Did you just refuse to help,” The Commandrex stammered.
“Not exactly,” Hawle remarked, taking a seat, “but there’s not a lot I am allowed to do, legally standing. You see, the U.S.C. charter doesn’t let us interfere in the internal politics of non attached worlds – within certain parameters.” He shrugged. “I am legally empowered to negate threats if I feel it necessary. That moon installation was a definite threat. I’m also empowered to act in the best interests of Council citizens and officers, which means I have latitude to act on the prisoner situation…”
“They’re not prisoners, just sequestered…”
“...for decades without trial,” Hawle finished, “but the point is I can work towards the resolution of THAT in any way I see fit. I can also defend this ship to a point that doesn’t quite stretch to war. Now,” he added, “what I plan to do its this. After the shuttle encounter, I plan to take the ship within teleport range of the surface over the camp. From there I will go down to the camp with support and organise the beginning of the evacuation. Council officers from the Fallir, maybe. It doubles the teleport capacity. From there we can begin repopulating the Bellaphron and, potentially, the other ships. We’ll certainly make sure the other ships leave peacefully.”
“I would need more than that.”
“We will NOT be joining with your military for any strikes, Commandrex. You forget, we’re the enemy, right?” Hawle smirked.
“He’s up to something,” Una commented.
“Of course I am,” Hawle replied. “YOU know that, sir, but wass’isname…”
“Jass,”
“Jass doesn’t. We put a lot of sound and fury into going down to the complex. Y’know, shuttles landing, fighters hanging around, armed security with guns helping ‘not’ prisoners ‘not’ escape? What is Jass going to do?”
Eevak mused for a moment. “He’s going to react.”
“Exactly. Here’s where I show trust. YOU know we’re not the threat so, with him sending massed troops to us, he weakens his position. I’d be doing nothing wrong but I certainly wouldn’t be able to interfere with you taking control back now, would I?” He shook his head. “Not allowed to interfere, am I?” He sighed. “Then I can get back to fully shutting that thing down.”
“I can go with that,” Eevak remarked snidely, “The less of you aliens around the better. But how do you propose to make the other races leave quietly?”
Hawle shrugged. “Oh, we leave them there. For a short while. Y’see, before we started the operation today, we sent a message buoy back towards home. It’ll reach there in a week or so. Then they’ll send a small fleet. If we pull this off we’ll intercept them on the way back and they’ll help with the extraction. Aliens who just want to go home are unlikely to pick a fight with a number of ships policing the withdrawal.” He shrugged again. “Of course, if you betray us and we fail in this? Well, they’re coming anyway and I’m sure they’ll be annoyed…”
“So, no trust then?”
“Goes both ways.”
“I’m sure we’ll learn,” Una added. “First steps are always tentative.”
“Absolutely. Are you going to make that call, Mr Commandrex? Make sure to stress that we can provide no co-operation whatsoever. But we can drop you odd if you want. I’ll leave you two to make the call. I have a shuttle to get ready.”
“You sir, are no diplomat.”
“You’re probably right,” Hawle said dismissively, “I’m far too direct. Fortunately Una here is diplomatic enough for the both of us. Peace is still an option but I don’t want to get shot for it or fired over it. See you at the peace conference, sir.” So saying, he headed out.
“Infuriating, isn’t he,” Una asked.
“I could do with one or two like him,” the Commandrex admitted. “Although I might shoot a few of them too.” And he got himself through to the Military.

Half an hour later, Hawle led three shuttles down towards the surface, the ships’ entire complement of them, in fact. The battle had ceased some ten minutes back, the planetary shuttles pulling back as best they could to the lower atmosphere. Now Maze’s group was following their own shuttles as escort as Hawle and the other pilots brought the ships low over the northern continent, staying quite high over towns and cities as they headed for the detention zone.

It came up as an armed complex some five miles across in a largely deserted area of the world. The walls were fifteen feet high – to keep the locals out and safe, apparently, and Hawle couldn’t help but notice the gun towers manned by guards. “Calling the Hadrix encampment,” Hawle said, after tapping the comms and using the name Eevak had given him, “this is the leader of the three shuttles coming in now. We are approaching in peace and intend to leave in peace. Impede us in any way and we’ll leave you in pieces.” He cut the line and wondered if they’d open fire despite the warning. The group swept low over the walls and Hawle saw the scared and excited and half starved people inside looking up at them, covering their eyes against the glare of the sun as he looked for a clear spot to land in. There were children here! He recognised some of the races but by no means all. That thing on the moon had a lot to answer for, he thought as the shuttle vertical landing engines kicked in and the trio slid to the deck.

Now he had to wait. Pangal was with him and had most of her troop in the three shuttles, wearing full combat armour and it was their job to make sure the scene was safe for him to step out. They emerged into a dustbowl with buildings under constant watch from armed guards in the turrets and on the streets, although few here looked like they could put up too much of a fight. Pangal activated her suit’s speaker. “We are not here to fight,” she told the guards, “but trust me, if you want one, it’ll be yours. We are here to start the reclamation of these people and get them off your planet! Stand down!” Several of the guards looked uncertain at this and only around half of them lowered their weapons as thin, bedraggled, people started massing around the Security teams. “Please stay back for the moment,” Pangal ordered as what looked to be a senior member of the native force came up to her.
“You have NO authority to…” he started.
“Tell that to the guy in the shuttle,” Pangal instructed, pointing towards the shuttle she’d just come out of. “See who he’s got a commline to.” She knew Hawle had a line open to Eevak at the Southern command centre and what he’d say. She didn’t turn around as the Officer stepped towards the ship. She’d seen someone else. “Lieutenant Kayle,” she said, addressing a hunched Feline in something that had once been fashionable. She stepped towards him and he fought to keep himself steady as the others backed away instinctively. She saluted. “Security Chief Jaqui Pangal of the United Security Council Frigate ‘Loper’.” She dropped the salute. “You called for a lift, sir,” she asked, relieved to see him begin to smile a broken smile.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Glad that I was able to read this chapter today! I had a lot going on.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 31

Rescue

Hawle listened as the Commandrex laid out his orders to the Camp Commandant or whatever he was to follow and cut the link off when he was asked to. “So, you see,” he said, “we’re not here for a fight. We’re here to alleviate the pressure on you.”
<”Harty to Hawle,”> said a voice from the main communications system.
He tapped a button. “Hawle here.”
<”I’m getting those armed forces you talked of, sir. Several divisions are inbound. Orders, sir?”>
“Alright,” Hawle breathed. “We’re not looking to kill them, Maze. Turn back the fighters as best you can. Tell the Loper to fire cannons half a mile ahead of the incoming ground troops. See if we can’t scare them back for a while.” He closed the line and turned to his visitor. “One thing we are definitely NOT doing,” he emphasised, “is buying time for the pres… Commandrex-in-chief to reimpose control.” he smiled askew at the stunned Kaverran. “We’re not allowed to interfere, you know?”
“No… I don’t know,” he replied. “And I don’t want to.”
“Smart guy. Now, go tell them to put their weapons down, would you?”
“How are you going to get them all back to their ships? There are so many of them.”
“We don’t need to finish it,” Hawle replied, “we just need to start. Now, outwards with you. I have to lock up.” Hawle started turning drive systems to minimum and followed the Camp leader out, only emerging from behind the bigger mammal when he’d heard the order to disarm given.

The crowd around Pangal was growing again and the Lappinean really wasn’t feeling at ease even as Hawle stepped forward in his more open outfit. Somehow this convinced more than she had that they were really from the Council than she had in her armour and she heard murmuring and cheers and wondered why she’d not received any of those. It wasn’t that she was jealous, it would have been nice to be appreciated, mind. Perhaps it was the ears. She had to fold hers down in the helmet because she couldn’t afford the upgrade Hawle had to his helmet. The group ahead of her parted and Kayle reappeared, escorting an Osiran forward as Hawle stepped to join her.
“Making friends, Jaqui,” he asked. “Lieutenant Kayle I recognise from the vid but you must be Commander Halriss?” He offered a hand. “Commander Hawle, Captain of the U.S.C. Loper.”
The old lizard looked him over. “Have uniformss changed ssince we’ve been gone,” he asked, before taking the hand without even the hint of a smile.
“Not as much as everything else. Are the crew of the Fallir here too?”
The Osiran’s eyes flicked. “They arrived two yearss back. How did you avoid being taken,” he asked.
“We didn’t come via the Moon thingy,” Hawle replied. “We were on a short range exploration mission when we just about picked up the distress call from the Bellaphron.”
Halriss’s neck stretched, the scales moving and undulating as he turned his head to look at Kayle. “And I ssaid it wouldn’t work. Esspecially after the Fallir had never caught it.”
“Right,” Hawle said as Harty’s flight roared overhead. “We need to get something of a move on, Commander. We have something coming to a temporary agreement with the guy in charge – it’s a long story, trust me,” he added as he saw the look of horror and hatred on Halriss’s face. “We don’t have time for it right now. My priority is to get your crew and the Fallir’s crew back to their ships and then get the others back to their ships AND leave this place in peace. It’s going to take time and more than we have available today.” He paused for breath. “The transport machines on the Loper and the Fallir will help us if you pass these out to the crew and anyone who needs medical attention comes on our shuttles now.” He handed Halriss a stack of transport tags. “Council people only at first,” he ordered. “We haven’t started re-energising anyone elses’ ship yet. Largely because we don’t know how. Yours is taking time. Now, you need to hand those out and get the one’s needing immediate passage fi…”
Halriss cut in. “Our Children go with you now.” He turned around and called out. “No argumentss! The Children are to be brought forward to go to ssafety!”
“I like this guy,” Hawle admitted quietly to Pangal. For her part Jaqui wondered who was going to tell the time weathered Osiran that his people had left the council.
“We need to work fast,” Hawle told the group, “as agreements are tenuous and it’s going to take time. This will enable us to save lives today and start the process that will free all of you! THIS,” he added, spreading his arms wide, “will end within weeks for everyone here!”
“Why not today,” someone asked.
“Because we will be operating beyond our capacity trying that,” Hawle replied. “As it is we can start the process today.”

Skin and bones was what Hawle was expecting but the children were healthier than he’d hoped. Still undernourished and hurt, of course, with dead eyes in some cases, but Hawle suspected the parents had been handing off some of their supplies to the children wherever possible. Half of them were naked, the others in petty scraps. There were over 100 of them. Hawle sighed. “I’ll need some parents from the Bellaphron,” he told Halriss. “One of the shuttles will go there.” he shrugged. “A frigate and a clipper don’t have the capacity.”
Halriss nodded serenely. “This one is a nurse,” he said as an elderly Canine came forward with an infant. “Sshe will go with the third sshuttle and Kayle.”
“Right,” Hawle said uncertainly, wondering how Halriss was somehow taking control of things. Halriss started handing out the teleport tags as Hawle loaded up the shuttles for the first run.

He considered putting his helmet on against the smell of the young and wondered how they’d react to the idea of showers. They were packed in pretty tight, even as the door closed on them. A cacophony of noise assailed his ears, silenced only as a blast from the Loper’s main cannons slammed into the ground some ten miles distant. A cloud of dust sketched the horizon as they stared, open mouthed, at the action. “You’re going to be checked over by Doctors,” he told them as the shuttle lumbered towards orbit, “then we’ll see about food. You’re quite safe,” he added, as the anti missile system shot down a missile. Hawle crossed his fingers and kept going upwards.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Really loved the way you wrote this chapter! One of the best!

[Welsh Halfwit]

And now, enter Amazee's character.

Part 32

The Councillor.

The shuttle would need fumigating, Hawle thought to himself as he brought it back over towards the camp. Maze and her flight – minus the deck chief, of course, were engaging closer to the prison now, still trying to get the native shuttles… uh, ‘planes’ to leave the area for now. Jass had called to express his rage at the alien forces who were not only staging the biggest prison break in the planet’s history – at least he was calling it a prison, Hawle had thought – and he’d handed the Vice Commandrex over to Una before he’d left. She could phrase ‘sod off’ in ways that didn’t let on that was what she was telling him to do. Actually, he thought, the whole Frigate might need fumigating after all this. He’d sent Ensign Grek from Engineering over to the Bellaphron. He’d grown up in a tailor’s shop so he might be able to do something to get the clothing machines on that ship running.

The structure on the moon also held sway in his thoughts. They needed to get into it as soon as possible to examine both the structure and the damage Raven had done to it. On his orders. He had to see if there was a safe way to turn it off without blowing up the moon. The gravitational changes effected on the planet could be devastating and, frankly, he wasn’t at war with these people despite the fact that he didn’t trust them and had every reason to put his foot in their faces. He’d noted several of the children he’d just taken up had scales like the natives in places and supposed he shouldn’t really be surprised. People fell in love, even in places like this and, frankly, even if they didn’t like the father or mother, they were civilised enough not to blame the child. He had to hold to that supposition. He settled the shuttle down in the yard again. He saw that Halriss was waiting for him with a Female Canine in remarkable condition for her surroundings. He recognised her as a Pekan with mostly white fur but a browny/black face and fading Russet head fur. She wore a simple dress that was surprisingly intact and faded two tone. Lemon on the top side – possibly once golden – and apple green on the lower half. He wondered who she was. There certainly wasn’t anyone like this listed on the crew roster of the Bellaphron or the Fallir.

Pangal led the way out again and started escorting the next batch of Children in. Barleycorn and the rest of the medical staff were standing by for their new patients. Hawle stepped to Halriss again. The Osirian held a scaled hand to his companion. “Thiss,” he started, “iss Councillor Elena Daveess. She wass travelling on the Fallir to Cana when it wass taken.” Halriss gestured around himself. “Thiss place iss hard to live in,” he continued, “when they cut the food budgetss. Miss Davess made ssure it did not become impossible.”
Hawle stepped forward and offered a hand. “Commander Aldair Hawle,” he told the Councillor. “A delight to…”
He was a little stunned by the way she interrupted him. Stepping forward to take his hand would be one thing but she stepped forward, embraced him, bent him over to the side and laid a kiss on him that would have stunned an Equinna. It was an embrace that lasted for several seconds and started to droop his ears before she released him and apologised before heading for the ship. “Right,” he said as Halriss tried hard not to laugh. “Good,” Hawle continued dumbly, face full of shock and ears still akimbo. “Well, that happened…”
“I apologisse for that, Commander,” Halriss said eventually.
“Oh,” Hawle replied, wondering if he still had his tonsils as his ear straightened up, “Don’t worry about it. I…” He looked back towards the shuttle, “...appreciate the odd ‘thank you’ message. What happened to the Captain, by the way?”

The Osirian looked downcast. “He died,” he said bitterly. “The fighting for the sship wass brutal. Many died in the defencce. When we arrived, we did not know where we were or how we had been brought there. In the confussion, they docked sseveral armed groups… We could not concentrate to fight them properly. Captain Rassa sstood until the lasst.”
“One other thing,” Hawle asked, as gently as he could. “What happened to your fighters?”
“Now that wass their luck,” Halriss nodded weakly. “The ssquadss were out on a training exercisse. I do not know what happened to them. There wass a habitable planet near but…”
“Mark Fours can’t handle atmosphere,” Hawle finished. “When we get back, we can notify central and they can send someone to go and look.” He didn’t even flinch as a local jet skimmed overhead, smoking from holes in it’s fuselage that brought it down a mile from the camp. “But, first, we need to get off this world in one piece. Pangal, give them the water, would you?”
So bidden, the chief began ordering the offloading the tanks of water aboard the second shuttle to make room for more refugees. Hawle made to give her a hand.

Jaqui grinned at her boss as they shifted the heavy fluid container. “What,” he asked her, sensing her face underneath the helmet.
<”Should I assign a guard?”>
“Outside her room?”
<”Outside yours.”>
“Oh, I doubt she’ll cause too many problems.”
<”I meant to keep you in!”>
“Cheek!”

He placed the water close to Halriss and started back to the shuttle as people began coming out for water. They’d followed Barleycorn’s recommendations on the vitamins and minerals to put in the water so as to not shock their systems but this wasn’t so much as a – heh – drop in the ocean compared to what they needed, Hawle thought as he watched them drink. He closed the door and began the take-off procedures for under fire scenarios. Which basically meant get off the ground and out of the area. He noted that the Councillor had taken up the co-pilot’s seat. “Looking forward to getting back to the, uh, Fallir,” he asked, looking for words to fill the void.
“More than anything, Aldair,” she replied, notably using his first name. “And I’ll help relocate the people back to the ships but…” She looked a little concerned. “Well…”
He turned slightly towards her. “Come on,” he pressed, “what is it?”
“Well,” she said, trying to smile. “What then?” She struggled to raise her arms in a shrug. “It’s not like my job’s still there. I’d need to start again.”
“Oh, that’s easier done than said,” Hawle replied breezily. “The patch is always looking for experienced councillors. You’ve only been gone a year. We’ll have you back in government in no time!”
“The patch,” she repeated, as though it was never a section of space she’d given much thought to. “I hear it’s quite lawless out there?”
“Ah, it’s not so bad,” Hawle replied, feeling proud of his ‘home’, “some of the colonies are a bit ‘rough and ready’ but we’re really quite civilized out there.”
She nodded. “That’s your home base, yes?”
“For the last decade or so, yes. And that,” he added, pointing out towards the Loper as she loomed into view, firing another bolt at the surface, “is my home. Yours is over there,” he added, gesturing to the Fallir as a dozen young faces ‘whoaed’ their amazement behind him.
“The Fallir!” She laughed, which turned to a cough halfway through. “I never thought I’d be happy to see that fifth rate transport! I wonder if my stuff is still there?”
“You'll find out after the Doctors check you over with this lot.”
“The patch, hmm?” She mused, stealing a glance at him. “Might be worth looking into.”
Hawle wondered if he should have taken Jaqui up on her offer of a door guard as they started to dock.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Yay we finally have the debut of one of the more interesting characters! This is going to be a really fun ride!

[Welsh Halfwit]

She'll be back (as you know) but they have the other problem first.

Part 33

Another new plan.

Hawle sighed as he looked at the group around the table. He had a ship full of children and lost officers and he wanted things to return to the undisciplined calm of the start of the week. Barleycorn was leading the check overs on the people, with her deputy and nurses backing her up and she’d even drafted the small sciences department had been drafted in. The initial plan was to ship them to the Bellaphron but he needed to ‘spin some plates’. Which was why he’d opted for this meeting. Raven was joining in via vidlink but, at the table he had Una, Lieutenant Keele of the Fallir and Groal. Grovan was still on the bridge in case of emergencies.
“What’s the situation on the Fallir, Raven,” he asked.
<”Pushed but holding,”> the acting captain reported. <”we’re almost out of the medical supplies we brought over though.”>
“We need more supplies, Commander,” the weary Keele replied heavily. “If we’re going to be helping you shift the civilians and everyone else.” He sipped the vitamin drink Fuze had prepared and took a bite from the Ham salad. He coughed twice and Hawle wished he’d insisted on the medical check over but Keele seemed to be the only command officer still standing for the Fallir and had insisted on being here.
“We don’t have any spares,” Groal cut in. “Night tells me we’re going to be pushed soon as well.”
“Would that we could simply make more…” Hawle said, more to himself than anything. Then his eyes widened. He clicked his fingers and pointed to Groal. “WE can’t,” he said.
Groal caught onto the thought. “...But the Bellaphron can! The schematics might be fifteen years out of date but it’s still possible to get them working!”
“I feel I’m out of the loop here,” Una warned. “I’m not sure I like it.”
“Sorry, Una,” Hawle said quickly. “We’re not equipped with an industrial replication machine. We’re not big enough and they’re power consuming and very expensive. But the explorer ships of twenty years ago were equipped with them. They were due out of contact for years so they had to be able to replicate pretty much anything they needed. Provide them with raw material, say, like, some of the sheet armour we have spare… OK, Groal, I see that face, make it something else… and it can remake the matter into virtually anything!” He looked back to Groal. “Reckon you can get it up and working?”
“Do Pascral pee in the woods?”
Hawle looked at him absently. “I have no idea and I now hope I never meet anyone with that name. I take it you meant ‘yes’?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Hawle remarked. “Get that done and then we’ll go over to the moon complex and see if we can shut that down safely.” He looked back to Keele. “Did they ever take any of you up to the artefact? To see if you knew anything about it?”
Keele shook his Celican head. “No. I think they were a bit afraid we’d turn it on them somehow.”
Hawle gave him a slight grin. “I take it no-one ever had such thoughts,” he said, knowing full well that it was a lie if he said ‘no’. If attack was the best form of defence, so offence was the best chance of escape. Just look at the trick that had gotten them here.
The Celican smiled and it still made Hawle shudder slightly, despite the physical and emotional damage he’d taken over the last year or so. “Well, if we could have gotten away with it. You might need to call your ‘pal’ Eevak about that.”
“He’s not my ‘pal’,” Hawle replied. “We have a common goal right this moment and we’re using that to accomplish our main goal. But this is going to keep happening until that thing goes down and, frankly, I’d rather it goes down without levelling half the planet.”
“Hmmm. It wouldn’t be a good “I hope to never see you again” gift, would it? “
“How are your people coping,” Una asked.
“Not that badly, Madame Ambassador,” Keele replied. “We’ll manage.”
“Control will sort out help once you get back,” Hawle affirmed. “For now, though, are you ready to take up command?”
His ears pricked up. “Pardon?”
Hawle indicated the hologram of the sparking moon installation. “To take that thing down, I need my main crew. It means I’ll need someone trained in command to relieve Raven and continue the transporter reclamation of the Bellaphron crew. And any who wish to come with them as family members.”
“SOME of them will be welcome,” Keele grumbled.
“Halriss is giving out the tags. Let’s trust his judgement, yeah?”
“I suppose so,” Keele sighed. “He knows which ones can’t live there any more, anyhow. Sir,” he added, “I’m not really sure I’m ready for command…”
“You’re in control of the Fallir until control says you’re not in control, right?” Hawle checked the line over in his head and decided it made sense. Grovan can go over and help you for a bit if you need it but I’d prefer your ship be staffed by your own crew as soon as possible.”
<”So I’ll be taking Groal and a team to the structure,”> Raven asked.
“Nope,” Hawle responded, “you’’ll be looking after the ship here. I’LL be taking the team to the structure.”
<”Can I remind you of Council directive seventeen alpha,”>
“Can I remind you of Hawle directive one,” Hawle replied, arching an eye ridge.
<”Fair enough”>
Groal was a little surprised when Keele leaned over to him. The engineer wasn’t used to his own people actually wanting to be near him due to his obvious disdain for things like going topless and showering every day. The Engineer assumed Keele’s inherent pomposity had been broken by imprisonment. “Hawle directive one,” he asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Ah,” Groal nodded before whispering back. “It means ‘I’ve made up my mind so shut it.”
“Oh.” Keele nodded and slid back. “Makes sense, I suppose.” He could feel his wrist bones move. It surprised him. He hadn’t felt them move like that in weeks. He’d figured they were getting better but here they were again. Perhaps he’d ask Hawle to supply a medic for the moment. He wasn’t sure if the one from the Fallir was still alive. He’d not seen him for several weeks. Not since he’d spent time in solitary and been moved to a different section of the camp. He finished the drink and got halfway through the food before pushing it away.
“I’ll need Lieutenant Sowaix, of course,” Hawle added, talking of his team. “Barleycorn will have to release him.”
<”He’s a palaeontologist, not an archaeologist or linguist,”>
“He’s the closest thing we’ve got. Him and his deputy. And a number of security with us. So that’s me, Groal, Sowaix, his subordinate and six guards, one of whom should be medically trained. We go in about an hour. In the meantime, Groal, get over to the Bellaphron. Get one of the officers already over there to watch how you get the replication machines working to make medical packs and foods and get back here. Meantime I’ll get Night or the new guy to check you over,” he said, indicating Keele, “and send you over with some medical packs. Una, can you escort the Lieutenant to the medical bay?”
“Of course,” Una said as Groal stole a piece of the ham. She helped Keele out of the room as the meeting broke up.

Hawle made his way back to the bridge. He ignored the couple of children who’d invigilated their way onto the deck. At least they were wearing some sort of clothes. He noted a Canine child was next to Groven as he sat in the Commander’s chair and strove to ignore it. “You can take her over to the Fallir when Keele’s ready to go,” Hawle offered.
“Sir?”
“I’m sending you over there to help him for a bit. I think he’s going to need rest time.” He hoped Groven could understand there was a second reason he was sending him. Groven was his ‘safety’ against Keele taking revenge...

[Amazee Dayzee]

Trust me I know that she will be back and I look forward to it now that Hawle has a love interest who has yet to see him being embarrassed so that will be fun for her. Great work on this chapter also!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 34

On the Bellaphron

Hours passed, in which Groal physically schlepped enough spare material over to the Bellaphron to start up the replication machines and start producing medical kits whilst a junior officer from the ship’s own crew – who was actually older than the Celican Chief Engineer now – watched to learn how to do it. It had been fairly easy to repair the damage done as the Varkonians had left most of the hardware in place, taking only the things they could carry. Power was still only running at twenty percent, even now, and they’d focussed power on the fabrication processes to sew the fabrics they’d managed to bring with them for clothing and such. The food replication systems, operating on less complex items that provided little in the way of proteins and carbohydrates had also started working. Later, when the generators were up to it, they’d take over their own power replication procedures and generate their own ‘materials’ for the computer to draw on for replication. But the power generator for that was the size of the Fallir. It would take time to charge it up. Only certain sections were cleared for habitation right now and Groal walked the noisy corridors, avoiding the nosey youngsters, as he headed back to the shuttle. He dodged around a Male Canine, picked up and swung a feline female with Mican ears – who squeaked like a Mican – around so she ran back the way she’d come. “She’s never seen a new place,” someone said behind him. He turned to see a Lappinean female of advancing years leaning on the barrier and looking across what had once been a park.
He stepped besides the clothless Greyfur and looked out on the petrified bushes and grasses. “She has a lot of new things to see,” he told her. “So many new experiences. To come.”
“For all of us, I think,” she said, peering through damaged eyes at him. “Fifteen years without word of family and friends.” She sighed. “They’ll have moved on, I suppose. Made new families, forgotten all of us.”
“Some will have,” Groal admitted, “but there’ll be many who won’t have, you know? Many who’ve been hanging on for hope’s sake. Waiting for the miracle that’s you coming back. And you’re not in this alone, you know? You have friends who can help? For a start…”
He took off his shirt and, gently, as the Lappinean protested quietly, put it on her. It draped down to her knees. “There are many better needing this,” she protested, sniffing it. “Even if it does smell a bit.”
“There might be,” he said, smiling gently at her, “but I’m not friends with them, am I? Karlavan Groal. Karla to my friends.” He offered a hand.
She slipped her thin hand into his larger one. “Salla Dalvay,” she said, “nurse.” She indicated her eyes before turning back to look at the park. “Although I may have to retire properly after we get back.”
He put a gentle hand on her far shoulder. “The Doctor’s might well be able to sort those out, Salla. They’ve invented lot’s of new procedures during the last two decades.
She sighed and looked up. At him or through him, he couldn’t say. “Can they remove the damage behind the eyes, Karla?”
He shrugged heavily. “Not as much as they can for the eyes,” he admitted. “But they can help.”
“Yes,” Salla sighed again, sagging slightly, “the psychologists and physiotherapists are going to have the next ten years full, aren’t they?” She glanced at him again. “Do you mind if I do something,” she asked, putting a hand on his, “something I haven’t done in a long time because the only options were people I knew or the people I was held by?”
He lowered himself slightly so he was more shoulder to shoulder with her. “You do know I’m a Celican, right?”
She sniffed the shirt he’d given her. “You don’t smell like one,” she jibed. “Not like I remember, anyhow. That should make it easier for you, anyhow.” She kissed him, gently but intently. Because he knew it was just her looking to touch something new and meant nothing much beyond that, Groal allowed himself to respond in kind. Just for a minute.

He took her commnumber and gave her his so they could talk and he patched the Bellaphrons comm systems so they could connect with the Loper and the Fallir at least. With no relay beacons, even the Loper couldn’t contact Control from here so connecting to anywhere else was right out. Plus he had needed to give Winsome some time.

Winsome smacked his head as he fought to install new security protocols on the system so they could link up when they got back to Council space. The docking computer at least needed to be able to respond to the station computer or there could be a mighty bang imminent. He’d downloaded most of the requisite files to get them up to the minimum level that would work as most of the hardware just wasn’t made any more.
“That’s on,” said a rasping voice from above the console he was working on.
Having forgotten he was working with someone on the tertiary bridge, Harvey ‘jumped’ and almost banged his head on the underside of the unit. He pushed himself out to look at the Mican male. “It’ll take some time to upload. Can’t believe you didn’t have a connection port for a Kovac 6 drive.”
“I hate new technology,” the Lieutenant said bitterly.
“Aren’t you the Computer Officer?”
“Yes. And I’m <kaff> twenty years out of date, half my fingers don’t work properly, I need to sit and barely anything works.”
Harvey stood besides the chair and tapped in a few commands to run a simulation. “I could always send the information to your head if you want?”
The Mican shook his head. “No, thank you. You don’t want access to my head, boy. It’s full of things that’d make you pass out right now.” He held to the console as his arms shook badly. “The things they did to us…” he managed, holding his memories at bay by force of will. I don’t want them unleashed on people who aren’t trained for it.”
“You’re probably right,” Harvey admitted. “Oh, is there a Mican called Govan Brodgar coming aboard?”
The Mican chuckled. “Not coming, boy, here. Not heard that… name for an age. Ended up getting <koff> ‘itch’d to one’ve the other captives, a marble scaled lady wi’ a heart’a gold. No kids. Weren’t compatible like that but I loved ‘er. She died a couple years back…” He looked up curiously. “Who’s askin’ for my old name?”
Harvey shrugged. “Our new chef,” he said. “Goes by the name of Kirkwall. Cedar Kirkwall.”
The old Mican gasped and his voice caught in his throat. “Can.. can I see him?”
“Well,” Harvey grinned. He’d changed his mind about who to use for the test call, “why don’t we give him a call? I know his vidcomm number, after all?”
“You… you think he wants to hear from me?”
“Ever since he heard the word ‘Bellaphron’, you’re all he’s talked about. Think it’s time to reach out and touch someone, sir.”

After five minutes getting the microphone patched up to date, Harvey left the pair talking. He had to head back to the Loper for the next mission.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I really am loving your work! Keep it up!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 35

The way in.

Hawle pondered the third request for dinner from the Fallir’s noted Councillor and decided he’d better accept it this time. Kirkwall could earn his room and board. She’d probably have things from the Lieutenant Commander to bring up and it would take up a half hour or so. For now, though, he had to get dressed properly. The environment armour hung in his closet and he’d been putting it on for the last five minutes. All the pieces had slotted together and fixed correctly, leaving just his helmet with the adjustable ears that he held underarm as he headed out from his room. He imagined he heard some stirring film music as he strode along the corridor towards the shuttle bay where the rest should be by now. The custom helmet had cost him most of his last raise and the custom element ‘popped’ from the top and ‘accidentally’ hit a crewman as he passed by. “Sorry about that,” Hawle said, adjusting his grip so the metal coated ears pointed upwards. “I just washed ‘em and I can’t think of a thing to do with them!”

He opened the door to the launch bay and checked they were all there. Sowaix, his subordinate Goole, Winsome, Groal, and several guards, all wearing various shades of yellow or blue. Something the guard called Hav determined to bring up. “Sir,” the Wolf-mouse asked, actually raising his hand, “isn’t red normally the colour for these trips? I was wondering why the colour change?”
“Let’s just say there’s a cliché that I’m not fond of following, Hav, and leave it at that. We ready to go?”
The guard nodded and Groal was headed inside anyhow so Hawle put his helmet on. The radio speakers close to his open ears had surprised and disorientated him on the first few times he’d used them but he was more confident now. The visual display lit up with his team names and the throat vibrational sensors prepared themselves in case Hawle wanted to ‘talk’ without moving his jaw and muzzle too much. He supposed he was ready to go but he opened up the face plate so they could see him and the oxygen system didn’t turn on before he needed it to.

“I’m somewhat excited by this,” Zowaix said. “The chance to examine an ancient monument of a civilisation far in advance of our own is quite something,” he enthused.
“I have no trouble with that,” Hav commented, checking his weapons, “I just don’t want to have to carry you again, sir!” He gave him a grin that was half to remind him of that fact and half to show he held nothing against the Brockian for that.
“My species is built for power and endurance,” Zowaix cut back, “not speed. I suppose I should thank you for the swift removal from that last situation.
“...but you won’t,” Hav and Zowaix said together.
“Glad to see we understand each other,” Zowaix said, primping himself slightly.
“Are we there yet,” Goole asked, twitching his whiskers.
Hawle shut the door and started the shuttle up to leave the ship.

He brought it low over the moon, practically skimming the surface before bringing the ship down for a landing relatively close to where Maze had landed less than a day ago. Long day, he thought. Getting longer too. “OK,” he told the team, “helmets on and let’s go for a walk.” He brought the faceplate down and the oxy system started up. He ran a quick systems check to ensure all the names were visible and, thus, encased in their armours, before he voided the atmosphere and allowed the occupants out.

Without really knowing he’d done it, Hav took the lead, simply because no-one had told him not to and it seemed natural for security to lead. They had rather an easy trail to follow, with Maze’s bootprints still visible in the lights from the helmets and they made something of a pace towards the structure as it shot ‘electricity’ above their heads “Groal,” Hawle advised, “I know it goes against the grain, what with you being Celican, but try not to be attractive right now, yes?”
All he heard from the others were groans as they moved onwards.
Zowaix stopped for a moment and angled up. <”Well, SOMEONE should take a picture,”> he said defensively, his helmet camera recording the jagged lightning.
“Try not to get shot, Lieutenant,” Hawle advised.
<”I’ll bear it in mind, sir. Done.”> The Brockian straightened back up and followed Hav as the crossbreed led them towards the complex. No need for head lamps in the here and now as the bright bolts continually lit the darkness, casting haunting shadows around them in all directions as Hav looked around for the next Raitchian boot print.
“What’s the problem, Hav,” Hawle asked.
<”The.. the prints, sir. It seems Flight Commander Harty… stopped.”>
“She went low-G, Hav,” Hawle advised. “Follow the other prints.” He gestured to the other prints in the dirt.
<”Of course, sir,”> Hav headed off to follow the new prints and tried not to sniff the air that wasn’t there. He led them to an outcropping of rocks that they made their way over carefully.
A spark of lightning impacted the rocks some thirty feet to their left and Hawle was left unsurprised by the number of profanities that filled his helmet. It didn’t cease as Goole tripped over the dead local Maze had left lying there. “Keep moving,” Hawle warned, blinking against the dazzle effect the lightning was now putting out.
<”I wonder what the energy source is,”> Winsome’s voice said as they closed in on the wreckage of the shield generator station. <”Raven did a good job on this, didn’t she?”>
“I did ask her to,” Hawle replied, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
<”Any sign of a way in,>” Guard Orins asked plaintively.
<”We could try inside,”> Groal said. <”They’d probably have an internal access, after all”>
Hawle made his way across the area to the door. He noted the keypad lock and gestured Winsome forward. “How do you get your tail in that suit,” he asked the Squirrel.
<”With great difficulty, sir,”> Winsome responded as he linked up his computer to the pad. It took him a moment to open the door and he’d just disconnected the leads when a bolt of electricity electrified the cabin with a strike. The whole thing sparked and shimmered for thirty or so seconds. <”Anyone wearing a rubber suit,”> he asked.
“No, but it’s a bit more lubricated than it was,” Hawle admitted. “Don’t touch anything and let’s get in.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Really love this chapter and the way you wrote it! Always looking forward to seeing what you are gonna post next.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Every sci-fi should have a car somewhere...

Part 36

Into the Structure

Now Hawle turned his lights on. Evidently, Raven’s attack had taken out the power to this section of the base and everything was pitch unless lit by the flashes through the door. But Hawle was quite intent on closing that door and ordered Hav to do it via the manual option. The Mican pulled the handle across to shut it. The lights from either side of the helmet’s temples cut across dusky desks and a comatose computer next to a mug containing a greenish liquid. <”Analysing that could tell us about their digestive processes,”> Zowaix said, indicating it.
“Maybe on the way back, Lieutenant,” Hawle mused, “provided we’re not running for our lives.”
<”I’m not carrying you AND a cup of tea,”> Hav chirped quickly, releasing the handle.
<”Bringing that up again, are we?”>
“Telling you both to shut up, am I,” Hawle asked. He stepped away from the group, towards where the unit met the wall of the main structure. It was through a connecting tube and another unit but he eventually came to something that looked convincingly like stone with a dial on it. “Any idea how to get in,” he asked the group.
Zowaix pushed him out of the way and peered over the icons on the dial. <”Logically it’s a code you need to match. I’d say they recorded the correct code on that computer.”>
“Winsome…”
<”On it, sir.”> Winsome headed back, readying his suits power systems for a link up with unfamiliar systems.

Ten minutes passed whilst they waited for Winsome and he eventually returned to the group. <”I need to run anti-virals on my computer,”> he grumbled, <”that guy had such things loaded up on his discs…”>
<”I’d be interested in copies,”> Zowaix said. <”I take it they show anatomy?”>
<”Many, MANY, times over,”> Winsome commented, dialling in the code to open the door.

The door rolled aside like a gigantic coin and Hawle provided his own, mental, sound effect as he watched the giant stone-like thing rolling aside. He had the odd feeling that this was a stone age airlock of some sort as they stepped in and Winsome closed the door behind them <”Give me a minute,”> he said, looking through the translated text from the computer for the new code. Pressure hissed into the room as he looked through the data. The locals had taken months to gain entry some fifty years ago, according to the data. It had taken them two whole years to gain access to the structure and then they’d found the systems and turned them on three years after that. According to the details, the very first ship they’d ‘fished’ had been hostile and they’d been lucky to fight it off, The first five times had, apparently, been rough but then it got easier. Unfortunately they had no idea how to turn the thing off. So they’d left someone up here to monitor it and scrambled the ships they’d managed to salvage from their previous victims and added to their stockpiles and used those to add to their stockpiles…

He was concerned by the lack of initiative on the Varkonians side. They seemed to be astonishingly insular to the point where they hadn’t used more than the minimum needed technology in their efforts and Winsome supposed he appreciated that. So many planets had advanced beyond their ability to control the advancement and had gone into deep decline after disaster from misusing advanced tech. Winsome decided he must be stressed. He was thinking gibberish. He put in the code and the door opened to the inside.

They stepped into a lit stone clad passageway that stretched left and right, with Hieroglyphs on the walls rising from near the floor to close to the ceiling. <”If I had a year,”> Guard Fiora said, her voice tinged with awe as the door shut and
<”Didn’t know you were a linguist, Shora,”> Hav commented.
Hawle suddenly noted that her name was Shora Fiora. He wondered if she’d given her folks trouble over that.
<”There’s a lot you don’t know, Shaune. Did it for a year before realising I’d never get a first. Changed to security so I could travel.”>
<”That’s not a smart reason,”> Zowaix chipped in. <”You should have stuck at it. We always need linguists.”>
“One’d be handy right now,” Hawle remarked, “but we don’t have time to learn. We’ll go…” He pointed down the left route, then turned and pointed right, “...this way.”
<”So scientific, boss,”> Groal snickered. <”Keep your helmets on, people,”> he warned. <”We’re getting pressure but the Fallir’s shots could have penetrated any bulkhead. I’d advise visor’s can be lifted to preserve supplies, though.”>
<”Biological scanners are showing it’s breathable with no real surprises,”> Fiora chipped in.
“Right ho,” Hawle said. “Visors up. Put them down again before we open any doors.. Who wants to go first?”

A few minutes of supply saving later, they stood by a door. Around them, the walls seemed to be pulsating slightly with power as blue lines strobed across panels that were obviously more than just hieroglyphs. They could also hear the power humming in pulses that Hawle thought was probably in symphony with the lightning strikes outside. It didn’t bode well for things as he assumed it wasn’t a natural sound for it to be making. They needed to find the power core sooner rather than later… “Visor’s down and I’ll open the door,” he said, lowering his own visor into place before pulling on the door.

It opened outwards as Hawle tugged and air was sucked in to the sealed room, buffeting him as it passed, circled the room and settled down. The group stepped into a largely empty room that extended far to the rear. The Varkonians had been using it as something of a store room, it seemed. Containers stood against the wall with crates on the floor. A small vehicle sat close by and it was that that Groal moved to. <”They must have assembled it in here,”> he mused. <”I wonder why?”>
<”Saves their feet,”> Goole replied sarcastically.
“We might need to use it,” Hawle advised. “Looks like there’s enough room for four. So we’ll be taking essential personnel. Groal for the Engineering – after it’s been checked over. Zowaix for the Sciences. Winsome for the computers and, of course, yours truly.”
<”Can I point out,>” Hav commented, <”that, with respect, you’re not ‘essential? A security Officer should go.”>
“So noted,” Hawle said lightly. “But you’re wrong. I’m essential. I can drive it.” He looked around the buggy. “But you can ride on the tailbar.” He looked to Groal. “I think that’s what they call these things,” he asked, gesturing to the tailgate.
<”We’ll do the gruntwork here,”> Goole grunted as Groal finished his inspection. <”We’ll keep in contact.”>
<”It’s an electric powered engine,”> the Engineer said. The team got aboard and started towards the core.

[Amazee Dayzee]

What a very intriguing chapter! I am liking this concept more and more!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Part 37

Blockage

Goole looked around the side of the room and slapped his hands to his sides. There we filing cabinets and hard copies and he wondered aloud what necessitated them sending files to the moon to store them. He wondered idly if this meant there were things that the people in charge needed records of but didn’t want to be found by their opponents. There was nowhere easier to hide things, he told himself, than in a place no-one could get to. He wondered if he should take a look at the files now the visual input could be translated by the helmet’s computers and he wondered if he should ask Zowaix or Hawle about it.
<”And I wonder,”> Hawle’s voice said in his helmet, <”if Goole will realise that, as we’re wearing helmets, we can all hear whatever he’s wondering aloud?”>
Goole screwed his eyes shut and swore mentally.
<”Heard that,”> Hawle said, lying through his teeth.
<”The helmet can’t translate the written word,”> Winsome cut in. <”You’ll need to manually scan the files and the translation software can work on it later. You’re in Science armour so you’ve got a scanner built in with all the other safety stuff. I take it you know how to operate it?”>
Goole nodded then, as one of his guards facepalmed, remembered he needed to speak. “Uh, yes, sir. And sorry, sir.”
<”That’s OK, Goole,”> Hawle said. <”Just don’t do it again.”>
“No, sir…”

At the far end of the hanger, Hawle’s buggy was approaching the other side as Goole’s reply came in. “Whatta dink,” Hawle told Zowaix. “How do you put up with him?” Then he cut off the group link as Goole should have done.
“<He’s a good subordinate,”> Howaix said through his speaker, <”I wouldn’t be half as effective without him.”>
“Make sure you tell him of that from time to time,” Hawle replied before disembarking. They’d arrived at another door after several minutes driving down an off white walled room. They’d assumed this was some sort of hanger, based on the large, door like structure they’d passed on the left hand side wall. There was, however, no sign of any panel from which to operate the controls and Groal had opined that it was operated from the ships themselves when they arrived. Hawle had considered that it could make sense. And now they were stood at a shut door. He turned the group link back on. “We’re about to open a door,” he warned, “so visors down. Also, be careful about transmitting signals. We may be in a room with a door that opens to space.” So saying he closed the visor and ushered Winsome forward to open the way as Groal ran his scanner over it.
<”How do they back us up if we need it,” Hav asked, preparing his gun for use.
“They run,” Hawle replied.
<”Then you rescue us,”> Goole put in.
“<There’s pressure on the other side of here,>” Groal said, <”but not as much as in here. It’s definitely leaking. I think.”>

The door opened and air shushed out of the room to equalise the pressure so Hawle stepped through quickly into a passageway that had definitely seen better days. Sections of stone had fallen from the ceiling and exposed the metals and wiring underneath. Some of those were still sparking and Hawle decided he didn’t much want to touch those. He stood back as the others came through so they could close the door and prevent more air hissing out to who knew where. “Hav,” Hawle said, indicating the pile that was half blocking the passage, “you’re our pathfinder. Find us a path.”
<”Willdo, skip,”> he replied cheerily.
“Hav?”
<”Yes, sir?”>
“Never call me that again.”
<”Does anyone else get the feeling we’re going down,”> the small guard asked as he started leading the way through the pile, leaving an infrared trail for the others to follow.
<”Yup,”> Groal replied. <”Which leads me to awkward questions like ‘how do we know this moon is really a moon?”>
<”Oh, come on,”> said Goole’s voice from the other room. Hawle cursed mentally as he remembered that HE’D forgotten the ‘group chat’ button this time. <”We’re not in a galaxy far, far, away are we?”>
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Hawle replied, heading through the rubble carefully, following the infrared trail on his visor so as not to go through too many wrong turns. He noted a temperature drop halfway through and reasoned that he must be close to the hole. Winsome was right behind him and Zowaix was bringing up the rear. “Hawle to Groal, you are coming, right?”
<”Letting you little guys go first,”> the engineer replied. <”When you’re out, Ill go in. It won’t matter quite so much if I dislodge things. I’m a bit bigger than you.”>
Hawle couldn’t argue with that. He could, however, turn the group chat off as he followed Hav through the mess.
<”Commander Raven made quite a mess of this place,>” Hav ventured, straining to reach up to the next safe section in the gloom. <”A hundred yards of rubble at my guess. Much more and I’d have preferred her to have blown the place open! At least then it’d be floating debris.”>

It took fifteen minutes for the three of them to get through and Groal started his ‘run as they stood back and waited next to a door with red lines running down it. It looked like blood in the light from the helmets and still looked like blood after Hawle turned his off to conserve power. He could almost feel his Chief Engineer making his way through the mass, struggling to squeeze through spaces that weren’t designed for a predator like him. Hawle could see the shifting dust on top when Groal dislodged things underneath and above his head. The occasional shout of annoyance and pain as he hit something in the pile wasn’t doing Hawles nerves much good either. They had to go back this way, assuming anyone made it back. Perhaps…

His thoughts were interrupted as the pile crashed down. “Groal, are you OK?” There was no answer. “GROAL! Karla!” He moved to start shifting the rubble.
<”We’ll never shift all this,”> Winsome claimed. <”There’s no way we can lift it!”>
<”There might be,>” Hav offered, pulling his gun around. <”If we void the atmosphere, the rubble will be a lot easier to shift.”>
<”But we don’t know if his suit’s damaged,”> Zowaix challenged. <”Doing that could kill him.”>
<”NOT doing it would kill him too,”>
<”Give me that line,”> Hawle said, indicating one of the cables in Zowaix’s scientific armour.
<”Climbing lifeline,”> Zowaix replied, pulling a length of thin cable out from his armour and handing over the one end for Hawle to connect. <”About fifty foot long.”>
“Ready the magnetic clamps. Hav, try not to bring the roof down when you blow a hole in that wall. But plant some small explosives, yeah? Five minute timer. Now,” he added, connecting the ‘lifeline’, “into the breach I go.” And he headed back into the rubble.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Love that Hawle knows when somebody is swearing in their head! This is a very nice chapter!

[Welsh Halfwit]

Love that Hawle knows when somebody is swearing in their head! This is a very nice chapter!

He guessed.

Part 38

Onward and Downward.

Hawle crawled back into the darkness, the dust obliterating most of the glow from the normal head lamps so he turned on the specially installed lights in his ear pieces, flooding the small area with a yellowing light as he headed onwards towards Groal. He had a rough idea where his engineer was but time was tight. He only had five minutes until Hav blew the atmosphere crack wider. He needed to get to Groal before that to grab hold. He pulled himself over a small lip and wished he were a Raitchian. They could get through most holes bigger than their heads with the slightly gross ability to dislocate their shoulders at will. He didn’t have that so he had to wriggle in places.

Groal came into view and Hawle couldn’t see any blood. Then again, he couldn’t see most of Groal. There was a fair amount of ceiling on top of him and only his head, shoulders and an arm were showing. “Can you hear me, Groal,” he asked over the comm.
<”Uhhh, those ears are too bright,”> Groal coughed, eliciting a ‘yay’ over the comms from Hav. <”Seem to be pinned, boss,”> he said. <”Can’t move.”>
Hawle pulled up close and took hold of Groal’s exposed wrist. “Yeah, well,” he said, “that’s the collapsed building. Your fault for being so big. Hav’s about to shift a lot of the weight.”
Groal looked at him though Hawle couldn’t really see his face through the visor. <”That statement, plus the fact you’re grabbing my arm, tells me he’s doing some reconstruction work on the wall?”>
“If you mean ‘he’s about to blow a hole in the wall to suck all the air and gravity out and I’m anchored to Zowaix so I don’t fly off if it goes wonky, the answer is yes. Now… Ready, Hav?”
<”Just waiting on the word, sir.”>
“The word is ‘bang’, Hav.”
<”Right-ho. Hang on to your tails.”>

Hawle felt the ‘whoomph’ of the explosion even through the rubble as the device went off and the weight of the moon seemed to increase on them. At first he thought it hadn’t worked but then the pressure started dropping quite quickly through the wound inflicted in it. Hawle kept a grip on Groal’s arm to anchor him. <”Hope that arm’s attached to the rest of me,”> Groal groaned.
“Don’t you know,” Hawle asked, totally not worried at all, unless you believed his voice.
Groal said nothing but flexed the arm so Hawle could feel it move as the pressure dropped to zero.
“Pressure’s gone,” Hawle told him. “Can you move at all?”
Groal tried and confirmed that he could, at least, feel his legs move. He wasn’t totally sure he liked the feeling but it meant he was, more or less, in one piece. He grunted and strained against the load, taking his hand back from Hawle and using it as a fulcrum to push his back up against the weight as Hawle did his best to help. Neither of them could engage the gravity elements on their boots until they were more or less upright so it was just pushing and only enough to move what was on top. When he’d pushed up a little, Hawle too his arm again and pulled him forward, pulling him slowly towards him. <”I’m being… helped from a trap by a Rabbit,”> Groal complained. <”I’ll never live it… down!”> With that, he practically ‘popped’ from the rubble and started to follow Hawle back to the others. He decided he’d check the armour when they got out but, as he was still breathing, it was probably still in one piece. His teeth hurt, though. In fact a lot of him seemed to hurt but he wasn’t going to let the chief down by letting on. There was probably something broken. But he’d feel that later. He pushed through the tightest bits after Hawle had cleared them and, after a few moments, he was pulled free by Hav and Zowaix as Harvey pulled in the Captain. They both engaged their gravity boots and Groal looked concerned as the left boot took a few seconds longer than the right to engage. <”Hrrm,”> he grumbled.
<”Problem?”> Zowaix asked.
<”Someone better tether me. Think the boot command relays have been damaged.”>
“Stick with Hav,” Hawle commented. “The other’s might need to move around the room,”
<”He could link with you, sir,”>
“Never poke holes in your Captains arguments, Hav,” the Commander replied, unlinking from the tether and letting Zowaix pull it back to his armour, “It’s cheeky and can get you assigned to latrine security duties. Shall we proceed?”
<”Hang on,”> Groal said. He manoeuvred his way across the top of the rubble to where Hav had done his work and took a moment to push some rubble against the small hole before using a foam jet from his wrist to seal the gaps. <”Now the next door we open won’t necessarily lose pressure immediately we open it,”> he said as he rejoined the others.

When they finally got back underway, they came to a door that seemed to be rusted shut at the end of the passage. “Well,” Hawle said, looking at the damaged door and the broken panel, “It’s on or back through that lot. “Harvey, anything you can do?”
The Computer tech took readings and examined the broken device. <”It’s not ‘handshaking,’> he said, <”or responding at all, really. It’s old damage, though.”> His suit shrugged. <”Might have been like this a while.”>
<”It has atmosphere behind it,”> Groal stated. <”Can’t have been that long, Harv,”> he added. <”The Varkonians got through.>”
<”Assuming they came this way.”>
“Well, let’s hope they did. Might well be they needed brute force or something.” Hawle pushed at the door, putting his hands tight against the metal and trying to push it sideways. Hav joined in and, when Groal added his strength, they managed to push it open slightly, enough for Groal to go around the other side and pull.
<”You two, uff, loosened it for me!”> he commented as air filled the corridor.
“Pressure’s only fifty percent,” Hawle warned as Groal pulled it open enough for Hav to slip through and pull from the other side. “Not too far,” Hawle warned, “We have to shut it again.”

They stepped through to a room of exhibits. Hav had no real interest in them but Zowaix studied each of them intently. <”It looks like these rocks are all from different epochs,”> he said authoritatively.
“You can tell that from looking at them?”
<”No, but I can’t think of any other reason they’d all be stored here on different plinths.”>
<”Good point,”> Harvey said. <”Ooh, computer!”> He swept over to the console, dragging Groal with him. <”Let’s see what this old lady can tell us! A map might be nice!”> He started powering the machine up.
Hawle sensed Zowaix was looking at him, even though he couldn’t see him through the helmets. He sighed. “Alright, Lieutenant, take some rocks. We’ll run scanners over them on the ship.” He cut the microphone before continuing. “I can’t believe I’m robbing the gift shop!” He turned it back on again. “Anything?”
<”It’s been ten seconds, sir,”> Winsome remarked. <”I’d need at least… fifteen, apparently,”> he finished as the screen came to life. <”A moment, please.”> He started looking through for whatever he could find. <”Found it. The command centre – or, at least, what they think is one, is down there.”> He pointed down and to the left.
Groal looked over at the others. <”Which makes sense as I’m getting life signs from there,”> he said. <”Varkonians.”>
“Knew I should have brought Una,” Hawle muttered.