《Building the Star Forge Empire》 1. Buying Time Dead Space A hunk of metal reflected the cold light of space in a forgotten swirling arm galaxy. It had been here, waiting, for a very, very, long time. It was so lonely, cold, and nearly dead. Was the Empire it had served gone? Had their enemies conquered this universe already? Small fires from the chaos gaps shone like purple candles in the void of otherwise empty space. The sun it had tethered to had long been destroyed. To survive, most of its power had been used to reinforce and shield its core. It had shed its vast shipyards and other station upgrades. It was now in its embryonic form. The last of its power was used on two things. To anchor itself to this dead system. It had been doing that for so long, it had been lonely for so long, that it had become deeply attached to its dark, rocky home. It knew that if its hold slips, it would drift off into the vast unknown. Despite waiting here in the dark and never meeting another, it still clung to the hope that it would. And if it was cast off, its chance of contacting other beings would disappear. The second use of its power was in sending a small transmission, that would lead any nearby ship passing through Chaos space into this no-star system. It might have changed over the eons, but it was no fool. Its masters would not need to be pulled to this location and it had no other allies. Which meant these would be enemies or unknowns. It just didn¡¯t care. With only 500 years of power left, it would like to meet another before its shut down. Was that too much to ask? **** Orillion Union Space The frigate, Damas, stood guard over a convoy of battered ships which streamed from the planet below in a long, tired line.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡®Captain, the last of the refugee ships have entered the Chaos Gate.¡¯ *Scree* *Scree* *Scree* ¡®Alert, Terrans are approaching!¡¯ The old captain had been wearied by the years of the unending war. The stress and heartbreak was written all over his face, and those of his crew. Success was unknown to him or them. When the Terran¡¯s attack, they conquer. For the collection of races that had united together against this invader, it was considered a good operation if they were able to evacuate a system with only 60% losses. ¡®Captain, what do we do?¡¯ ¡®Engines at full, we must pass through the Chaos Gate and join the convoy.¡¯ The first officer relayed the orders to the crew. They were young, not many lived to an old age anymore. As the engines burned brighter, the Damas realigned towards the closing gate. ¡®Sir, these aren¡¯t Terrans they¡¯re the Eras, that was the last system we lost!¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t look so excited,¡¯ chided the captain. ''They are servants of the Terrans now.¡¯ The young officer¡¯s excitement calmed down. Klora had friends in Eras and had hoped there had been some survivors. She turned to her captain. ¡®They wouldn¡¯t fight us though, right? I mean, not to really kill?¡¯ Captain Virim couldn¡¯t blame his first officer for thinking so, but yes, they would really be turning their guns on us, they had no choice. He raised his voice so that all his officers on the bridge would hear. ¡°Make no mistake, they are no longer our allies. Their planet has fallen to the Terrans, their families and loved ones are being held on Eras, and if the Erasians don¡¯t prove their loyalty they will be tortured to death.¡± The crew gasped at the captain¡¯s words. They had heard similar things in their classes, but it was another thing entirely to be confronted by the reality. After all, many of them had friends among the Erasians. How could they shift so quickly to viewing them as an enemy? ¡®We¡¯re approaching the gate,¡¯ said the navigation officer, ¡®we¡¯ll make it before it closes.¡¯ Captain Virim could breathe easier. They¡¯re mission here was nearly done. Before entering the gate, they¡¯d deploy mines to ensure no scouts slipped in behind them. Then they''d pass through and rendevouz with the refugee convoy on the other side. Their mission was to evacuate as many citizens and VIP¡¯s as possible and lead them deeper into Orillion Space. Each day of war that area grew smaller. ¡®There¡¯s a new ship leaving planet orbit!¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ the Captain asked. ¡®It¡¯s a large Tanker-class transport ship, sir.¡¯ Said the Breole officer, his face covered in fur, ¡®they¡¯re claiming they have 6000 souls aboard and begging us to wait.¡¯ ¡®Sir,¡¯ said Klora, ¡®I¡¯m sick of running, we can¡¯t abandon them!¡¯ The captain sighed and slid a big, clawed hand over his face. The plan never just worked, right at the end the universe would throw in a wrench and sit back and laugh at you struggle. He looked over the faces of his crew, they were like his own children, some were panicked, but most were angry. It had been a long time since he¡¯d had that fire of resistance, years of failure had blunted his desire to fight. ¡®We¡­ we¡¯ll buy them some time.¡¯ His crew clapped and cheered. I hope I don¡¯t regret this, he thought. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and he felt a new sense of vigour spread through his body. The enemy for the moment were only Erasians, they could hold them off and save another 6000 innocents. It was a risk worth taking. ¡®Bring the ship about, scramble the fighters, and charge our cannons.¡¯ He ordered. It had been a while, but the Damas was going into battle once more. 2. Repeat that? Orillion Space The Damas loosed barrage after barrage of laser broadsides into the mass of Erasian star fighters. Known as Junkars, they were previously the most clunky and low-tech of anything that had been in the Orillion fleet. But Captain Virim couldn¡¯t afford to be merciful as he ordered wave after wave of plasma to rip through their ranks. His crew and the incoming civilians were counting on his resolve. Closely packed, the Junkars tried to break away from the firing range but were harried on either side by the Damas¡¯s own fighters, known affectionately on board as Nestors. The Junkars could only hope a few would get close enough to open fire themselves. Numbers were never a problem for the Erasians, their carrier craft continued to spew more Junkars toward the Damas. ¡®That¡¯s the 2nd wave¡­ they¡¯re just throwing themselves away.¡¯ Klora had to remind herself that Erasians were the enemy now. They had to put personal feelings aside and do their duty. ¡®Captain, the refugee ship has left Tralis orbit and is heading our way. ETA 15 minutes.¡¯ Sensor officer Gleen said. ¡®The gate will be completely closed in 10 minutes, sir.¡¯ First officer Klora added. ¡®Orders stay the same. At the last minute we¡¯ll pulse the gate to maintain the Chaos Path, with just enough to keep it open for us and the Tanker.¡¯ The captain said. ¡®Yes Sir.¡¯ They replied. These were good kids, he thought. It seemed like yesterday they had joined him on the Damas, fresh-faced from the Nebulan Academy. They''d probably been disappointed to be relegated to escort duty on an old frigate with an old captain, at least at first. But it was the best place to give young officers like them a bit of experience before the hell of the frontlines churned them up. ''Safe,'' he muttered to himself, ''let''s hope so.'' Here they are seeing action for the first time. Despite the calm way Klora acted, mechanically and automatically as her instructors and training had drilled into her, she could feel her facial plumage raising in excitement. Tickling her cheeks. Father would chide her for still being an excitable little chick. She shook her head of the distracting thoughts and focussed on the task at hand. She wouldn¡¯t disappoint her captain. ¡®Has the 2nd Nestor squad reached the Tanker?¡¯ Virim asked sensor officer Gleen. ¡®Skirmisher Vos is just approaching her now, Sir.¡¯ He said. Good, thought Virim. He noticed Klora patting down her cheek feathers and had to hold back a chuckle. He felt a little sadness after. One day I fear a little skirmish like this will be too common place for you to feel anything Klora, he thought, I hope that¡¯s not for a long time yet, though. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡®Sir, why should we just sit here, let¡¯s take out those damn carriers!¡¯ his first officer called out. ¡®Klora, that¡¯s not our mission. We need to buy time for the refugees, not get stuck in an engagement with the Erasians.¡¯ ¡®But we can make short work of them¡­ Sir.¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t underestimate them. If they draw us out of position and their heavier ships appear in Tralis space, then what?¡¯ Klora couldn¡¯t think of a reply to that. If the gate shut and they were trapped, the Erasians would begin to chip away at their shields and¡­ It wouldn¡¯t be good. ¡®More Junkars are incoming.¡¯ Said Gleen. Klora welcomed the distraction. ¡®Stagger the cannons to give continuous fire, give them no room to move, fighters to pick off any that evade.¡¯ She looked over to Captain Virim and saw him nod in approval. She felt a flush of pride. Now we just need to wait for that Tanker, she thought, Good luck Vos. *** ¡®This is Skirmisher Vos, 2nd Nestor squad,¡¯ Vos hailed the hunk of junk, as he saw it, ship. That thing must have been 100 years old. How¡¯d they even get it working again? A Tanker-class resource ship that used to bring ores to the Tralis refining stations was now ferrying citizens off that planet, maybe there was a bit of irony to that, he thought. ¡®Vos of the 2nd Nestor squad, hailing transport, do you hear?¡¯ He repeated. A gritty female voice cut through the static of his short-range communicator: ¡®Captain Fiargo Yeets, Come Again.¡¯ Vos sighed. ¡®This is Vos of the 2nd Nestor squad, here to escort you, do you copy?¡¯ ¡®Captain Fiargo Yeets, Come Again.¡¯ Son of a¡­ Vos swore to himself, was that laughter he could hear through the comm? The hunk of junk''s communicator probably wasn''t even working properly. ¡®Listen, this is VOS OF THE 2ND NESTOR SQUAD, DO YOU HEAR?¡¯ ¡®CAPTAIN FIARGO YEEEEETS, COME A-GAIINNN.¡¯ The female voice screamed back, drawing out each word. Vos jerked back his head, his eardrums were ringing after that. And now he was sure. Someone had left that communicator on and he could hear the howls of laughter coming through the speaker, and what sounded like someone slapping the sides of their chair. Voss¡¯s scales flickered red. So, we¡¯ve got ourselves a joker huh, he thought, everyone¡¯s a space comedian now huh, this is what happens when you put a bunch of damn land-lovers and let them retro-fit a Tanker, huh. No one takes space seriously. Klora always told him he was too easy to wind up, but he was just a professional, even she wouldn¡¯t stand for this right? This is an emergency situation. It¡¯s not like at his Skirmisher party, when Klora and the others had wheeled out a giant Suurian egg, and then had a¡­ a less than decent Suurian lady jump out of it. He shuddered at the memory, our hatching rituals are sacred! He thought, that still annoyed him. When I tell her about this, she won¡¯t laugh at me will she? Though when she''s happy and her feathers flutter she does look beautiful. Voss blushed. He took a deep calming breath. I¡¯m a professional, he told himself before hailing once more, ¡®Ah, so it¡¯s Fiargo Yeets of the Come Again. My squad isapproachingabove you now,¡¯ to strangle whoever the Reave it was to name your ship that, ¡®change course 12 degrees, approach the Gate behind the cover Damas is buying you, over.¡¯ And I hope you appreciate it you little¡­ ¡®Roger that Voss, and it¡¯s Captain Fiargo to you, over.¡¯ His name was Vos not Voss, that was a girl''s name, why did non-Suurian''s have so much trouble with that? ¡®You¡¯re a professional, you¡¯re a professional.¡¯ Vos murmured to himself, squeezing his controls to death. ¡®I am, Voss, but in the future you might want to switch off your communicator after transmission, over and out.¡¯ The communicator channel clicked off and his cockpit was silent except for his own breathing and the low hum of the power core. If he wasn¡¯t cold blooded, his blood would be boiling. At least he won''t need to work with these fools for long, he consoled himself. ¡®Vos,¡¯ his wing mate called him, ¡®there¡¯s something wrong with the Damas.¡¯ The Damas was right where it had been, it¡¯s shields were operational, and the enemy Junkars hadn¡¯t even gotten close enough to fire on her. What was his wing-mate thinking, It was¡­ The cannons weren¡¯t firing! ¡®What are your order Vos?¡¯ his squad were starting to panic. The Damas was sitting out their like a floating target. He cycled through his communicator frequencies trying to reach the secure Damas channel. It wasn¡¯t working. He had 25 Nestors under his command and his orders were to bring the Come Again safely to the Gate. ¡®All of you, try to open communication with the Damas, I¡¯m having some trouble with it.¡¯ He waited, his crew were cycling thorough their channels, failing like he had. ¡®Its not working, sir.¡¯ Came the replies, they only called him sir when something went wrong, he thought bitterly. The Nestors were flying 1 league above the Come Again¡¯s bridge, matching her speed. The question was what to do now? Maybe something was wrong, or maybe these were orders he didn¡¯t know about. He was worried about Klora and his fellow officers. His commander was leading the 1st squad of Nestors dealing with the Junkars. They could probably hold another wave without support of the Damas''s lasers, but there would be losses. ¡®Sir,¡¯ one of his men cut into his thoughts, ¡®We found a channel-¡® ¡®Put me through to the captain now!¡¯ Vos said. ¡®No, Sir, the channel vanished as soon as we locked onto it¡­ but, it¡¯s coming from the central Erasian carrier vessel,it''scommunicating with someone aboard the Damas.¡¯ 3. Sa-sa-Sabotage! Orillion Space, Tralis Through the Damas¡¯s blast windows, Gleen could see the far-off, frozen rings of Tralis¡¯ moon reflect this systems sun. They shone a pure blue, like the amber jewels the forests on his home-world produced. He was at his controls when the communicators died, he double checked everything to make sure there was no mistake. Alarms began to ring inside the ship. His first thought was of a Terran Interceptor, they had the ability to jam ship communications. But he would have surely noticed that vessel entering space¡­ This had to be some fault inside the ship. ¡®Report.¡¯ First officer Klora demanded. Surprised by the alarms. The Damas had now lost communication with her Nestors, the captain had to be told about this. As Gleen was about to speak up the ship fell still. It no longer vibrated with the pulse of its cannons. Captain Virim shot to his feet. ¡®Sir, the cannons have ceased firing, no energy is¡ª¡± ¡®I know,¡¯ Virim interrupted his targeting officer, ¡®Gleen, recall all Nestors.¡¯ ¡®We¡¯ve just lost communications, Sir, I can¡¯t reach them.¡¯ Someone was sabotaging his ship! One of his own crew was betraying them. The officers of the bridge looked at one another in alarm. ¡®Gleen, send a team to the Weapons bay, get my weapons back online!¡¯ At Virim¡¯s order his sensor officer despatched emergency teams to the ship¡¯s weapons bay. The blood rushed through his body, how long had it been since he¡¯d felt this thrill? Things were getting interesting. Someone thought they could play around on his ship¡­ That got his heckles up. His young crew were struggling though. The Damas had become a giant target, and they were its little organic treats, just waiting inside to spill out into space. That was nerve-wracking for even the most experienced of them. Each officer frantically checked their stations. Virim imagined he could hear them wishing their checks came back ¡®all-clear.¡¯ Virim sat back down and relaxed his tense body. He had to stay calm as an example for them. He saw Klora, mastering herself and talking to the sensor officer. Good, he thought, she¡¯s still able to handle a situation like this¡­Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®Klora, contact the security officer, he¡¯s to send teams to the engine bay and shield control. I want you to meet him and take a squad to the power core, right now!¡¯ ¡®Yes, Sir!¡¯ she replied, sending the instructions to the security captain and arranging to meet with the security team on the lower deck. Gleen watched Klora leave the bridge at a run, her powerful legs moved her feathered body like the wind. ¡®Status report,¡¯ Barked Virim. ¡®Shields, ok.¡¯, ¡®Engines, ok,¡¯ ¡®Comlinks, ok¡­¡¯ The bridge officers rattled off the status of the various ship functions. This doesn¡¯t have to end in tragedy, only the weapons and ship-communications have been affected, thought captain Virim. I need it to stay that way, we need to find out who¡¯s doing this and where they are. The Damas was a military vessel, it might be old and past its prime, but the captain kept her operating to the strict Orillion Fleet regulations. Which meant that beside common areas and crew quarters, special clearance was required to access most of the ship. Only the crew directly responsible for their bays would have the code to enter them, such as the weapons and communications bay. That would mean whoever sabotaged them already had, or somehow gained, access to two secure bays. He ordered an officer to run through all access logs for those restricted areas. ¡®Sir,¡¯ the officer said a moment later, ¡®one record stands out.'' He hesitated, ''the security override code was used on the communications bay, shortly before they went down.¡¯ The officer looked at him in confusion. Only three people aboard had that code. All of them supposedly above reproach and looked up to by the regular crew. The captain, the first officer, and the security officer. The crew paused their actions to listen attentively to Virim¡¯s response. His mind was in a mess. There was no way he was responsible for the leak of the code. That left Klora and Nedri, either they had shared the code accidentally or intentionally with a spy. Klora had been here the entire time. Unless she¡¯d shared the code with another it was impossible for her to be involved. Nedrius had been with the ship longer. Security officers were mature, vetted, Nedri even had a family to think about. But, he¡¯d also had the opportunity. Even if there was only a small chance Nedri had anything to do with it, then Klora needed to be warned. Virim activated his comm, she needed to be told his suspicions. Nedrius was far more dangerous than anyone else aboard. His comlink returned nothing but silence. He started to worry. ¡®Gleen, comlink status?¡¯ ¡®Offline,¡¯ Gleen said, throwing his communicator to the floor, ¡®¡­Sir.¡¯ ¡®Will Klora be alright, Sir?¡¯ Reave! The security teams were under Nedri¡¯s control and he knew Klora was coming. ¡®She isn¡¯t the first officer just for show Gleen. She can handle herself,¡¯ he said with more confidence than he felt, his crew needed to hear that. And they needed orders to keep them busy. The Damas was still in its original position, sitting in space so that it could bring as many lasers against the Junkars as possible. He hated the idea of it, but he might have to order the ship to enter the gate, leaving the Tanker behind. If his ship¡¯s communicator was working that¡¯s what he would do. But he had the Nestors out there and couldn¡¯t recall them. The captain¡¯s burden¡­ To save the ship and her crew he might have to abandon his fighters. If the engines cut out, then that choice would be taken from him. ¡®Captain,¡¯ Said sensor officer Gleen, ¡®the Nestors have formed up a thin line.¡¯ Captain Virim looked over the sensor display. ¡®They¡¯re waiting for the next wave of Erasian Junkars.¡¯ Their commander was his oldest friend in the fleet, they¡¯d roamed space together since they were cadets. Smart and capable. The Nestors of the Damas had formed up behind the mass of Junkar wreckage. Erasian debris and lifeless crew were spinning through space creating a hazardous field of battle. But one that the more agile Nestors could turn to their advantage once they began to slow the Junkars without laser support. Virim knew his friend was there for him, no communication was needed for the Nestors to form up to defend the ship. He just hoped they all made it back, he¡¯d keep the Damas behind them for now. It was up to Klora. If she doesn¡¯t succeed, we¡¯ll lose the shields, the engines¡­ we¡¯ll be trapped and destroyed, or captured. Virim shuddered with the thought, he would never let his crew become a Terran pawn. Dead Space The little hunk of metal hung inconspicuously among the rocky waste. It was so quiet. His masters would have called this peaceful. The Star Forge didn¡¯t know when it had started to conceive of existence in a manner not designated by the masters. Only, it knew things like peaceful, comfort, and lonely, were not concepts it had been designed to process. But it had analysed some understanding of them anyway. It even found the purple Chaos tears scattered throughout this system stirring, the countless worlds and galaxies that lay beyond beckoned it. What it really found irresistible though was the thought of upgrading. To regain its former size and power, transforming matter to unlock its powerful schematics, unleashing them for a worthy master¡­ It slowed down, its creators would have called such processing unstable. The little hunk of metal hung inconspicuously among the rocky waste. All alone. Then it noticed a change in its familiar, lifeless system. Something it hadn¡¯t seen in a long time. A ship had appeared. 4. Hold the Lift Orillion Space, Tralis When Klora Ascip reached the lift, two heavily armed guards stepped out. ¡®Are you here to meet me?¡¯ She asked, surprised. ¡®No, sir,¡¯ they said, ¡®the chief has sent us to secure the bridge door.¡¯ Good, she thought, Nedrius won¡¯t let this ship collapse to some saboteur¡¯s attack. One of the men was staring a little too much. He must be new, she thought. He seemed uneasy. The two spies had communicated with a glance as soon as the lift had opened, ¡®can we take her out?¡¯ ¡®Better not risk it.¡¯ Discharging their weapons in the corridor would trigger an alarm and the bridge would be alerted. Perhaps he¡¯s never seen an Avalian before? Thought Klora. She grew self-conscious of her stunted wings, they poked through slits in the back of her vest. Her species wasn¡¯t capable of flight, but their wings did increasetheir speed and agility. Grow up, she chided herself, you¡¯re the damn officer here, think like one. The bridge officers carried side-arms, the door had seals and automated defences. It was the most secure room on board the Damas. Two extra guards in full battle gear were, probably, not strictly called for in this situation. It made sense to take one of them with her. Especially as Klora was heading to the bowels of the ship with a saboteur at large. ''Is there a problem?¡¯ She asked the guard eyeing her. He was startled to be called out. ¡®No, sir.¡¯ ¡®Good, then you¡¯re coming with me.¡¯ ¡®We... I¡ª¡¯ The spy was frustrated. He had just eliminated the weapons bay; the plan now, was to neutralise the bridge and capture the ship. ¡®You say ¡®yes sir¡¯.¡¯ First officer Klora said. She might be one of the youngest to reach that rank, but it was to be respected. Strange, any regular crew member would jump at the chance to impress an officer, she thought. It didn¡¯t bother her though, the poor guy probably just wanted to carry out Nedrius¡¯ orders. ¡®Yes, sir¡¯ the spy said. They couldn''t make a scene here and compromise their mission. With a guard by her side she felt more confident moving forward. Avalians liked to fight up close, having some ranged support would help.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Her nerves were buzzing, she wasn¡¯t sure how much of it was due to fear or excitement. She¡¯d finally get to fight with Nedrius! Together, they¡¯d either ambush whoever it was at the power core, or they¡¯d follow the captain¡¯s directions and hunt the traitor down. She trusted her fellow bridge officers, they¡¯d figure out who was behind this soon enough. Klora collected her thoughts and entered the lift. She flashed her bracelet at the scanner, she was going to level 3. It wouldn¡¯t take long. The spy entered with Klora. He would have to trust his partner to seize the bridge, she had the ability. If he could take out Klora in the lift, then he¡¯d rush there to back her up. He imagined slitting the Orillion officer¡¯s throat when they were alone. His laser knife would cauterize the wound and her feathered body would tumble lightly to the ground. He¡¯d act quickly before they reached level 3. *** Skirmisher Vos came to a decision. ¡®All Nestors follow me.¡¯ He wasn¡¯t going to let his commander hold back the waves of Junkars with only half his fighters to command. ¡®Come Again, you¡¯re on your own.¡¯ ¡®Vos,¡¯ came the voice of the female captain, ¡®The Orillion Fleet can¡¯t abandon citizens in space. You must stick with us until we are safely through the Gate. That¡¯s why the Damas is here isn¡¯t it? Are you going to abandon your mission?¡¯ He sighed. The arrogance of this lady. She didn¡¯t care about the Damas, only her own safety. It was obvious to a blind fool that things were going wrong. The guns had been silent far too long. ¡®It¡¯s Skirmisher Vos to you, captain Fiargo,¡¯ he hissed, ¡®And my duty is to the Damas, what will happen to you if she¡¯s taken out?¡¯ ¡®If we¡ª¡¯ ¡®If we survive this then feel free to submit a complaint to the Fleet. Over and out.¡¯ He clicked off. The Nestors had flooded their engines with power and were screaming towards the right flank of the debris strewn battlespace. His squad trusted in him completely, none of them wanted to leave the Damas or their fellow Nestors without support. On their starboard they past the distant Damas, quietly standing her ground. She looks vulnerable like this, thought Vos. The Damas was a small sized frigate. Like the rest of her class, she was built to fulfil tasks that were beneath larger vessels and too much for lighter ones. With a crew of 700 and only 3 main decks, the Damas was dwarfed by the giant Tanker-class ship Vos had left behind. He looked ahead to the battlespace. Distant flashes of laser fire between Nestors and Junkars lit up the mess of broken metal in greens and blues.The Nestors were ambushing the slower fighters in pairs and darting between cover. But there were only 25 of them, not enough. The Suurian¡¯s eyes calmly took in the scene. He gripped his controls, it was time to show what sort of professional he was. *** Klora kicked off her mesh boots before the lift even closed. See wasn''t setting a poor example for the guard. During combat, uniform regulations were relaxed to allow Orillion soldiers to fight at the full potential of their species. Her taloned feet clackedagainst the metallic lift floor. Unsheathing them made her feel like the predator her species had been. Razor sharp and diamond strong. They had only drawn blood once, in her coming-of-age battle. She had spared a life that day and still lived with the guilt. Soon I might have to kill with them, she thought, but the guard beside me is probably just as anxious. ¡®Don¡¯t worry,¡¯ she addressed the guard, ¡®no one will last long if they¡¯re foolish enough to get close to us.¡¯ Why had that made him more nervous? She wondered. The captain had pointed out she lacked the leadership skills of a more experienced officer, so she liked to take every opportunity to practice bonding with the common crew. However, her brash nature often stood in the way. It seemed she still had a long way to go. The spy immediately ceased any move to draw his knife. He swallowed and eyed the Avalian¡¯s talons with worry. Klora tried again, ¡®You just need to watch my back, soldier.¡¯ She rolled her talons across the floor, ¡®These girls will rip apart anyone before they reach you. Once we get to Nedrius we can both relax.¡¯ First officer Klora finished, feeling satisfied. Other officers seemed to succeed with this sort of banter, she thought. The spy felt a cold sweat burst out along his back. He took a step back, ¡®Ye-.. yes, sir.¡¯ This wasn¡¯t the plan, he thought, but if we¡¯re going to meet Nedrius¡­ They travelled quickly and silently through level 3¡¯s corridors under emergency-yellow lighting. Klora looked about her suspiciously, the crew were confined to battle stations. Any wanderer was likely to be the saboteur. But she encountered nobody, and each step forward built up the tension she felt. When Klora approached the core room and still had seen no sight of Nedrius, or the security team, she began to worry. We were meant to rendezvous before we entered the core room, she thought. ¡®Damn¡­¡¯ she muttered, her claws echoed off the floor as she slowed and approached with uncertainty. Klora activated her comm. It didn¡¯t work. 4 security guards rounded the corner. As Klora sighed in relief they raised their blasters and opened fire. 5. Dreams Dead Space Interest stirred within the Star Forge at the appearance of a vessel. The ship,that had emerged through a Chaos gap on the system''s fringe, was approximately 150 meters long and 50 meters deep. It was shaped like a sword. Her oval bow narrowed into a straight column and ended in a cross-guard like stern. The Star Forge had no control over which ships were brought into its system. The transmission it sent out wouldsimply alert and guide all vessels that recieved it, like a beacon light in the dark. However, navigational data to the system was the only information itsent them. The Star Forge itself remained hidden. Its black, pyramidal form blended inconspicuously among the broken rock, no more than a few meters large, that swirled in clusters throughout the system. The ship would take some time to manually scan and find it here. Should it initiate contact? It wondered, this was not the type of ship it had been expecting. Its technology appeared primitive. The Star Forge would demean its creators if it contacted such a vessel. It would sit and observe these newcomers. A vast array of sensors throughout the system fringe still sent information back to the Star Forge. It would analyse this and then decide. The Star Forge slowed its processing. It felt strange. All this time it had been alone and waiting for some contact, it had dreamed of re-joining civilisation. Yet now a ship was here, it hesitated. It didn¡¯tsuffer organic doubts and fears, it decided. There was simply too little information, it needed time to prepare, it would definitely initiate contact later¡­ A primitive civilisation, like the one using such a vessel, would never be able to determine the Star Forge¡¯s function without its own cooperation. It would appear to be some curious artefact. A dead satellite. Knowing that was the case helped its processing become orderly once more. But it wouldn¡¯t hurt to be cautious. In its current state it was vulnerable and had little in the way of offensive capabilities. Focussing back on the ship. It noticed that it had taken damage from its travel through the Chaos. Bundles of horizontal antenna were sparking, some broken off entirely. The hull was blackened, and small parts had been stripped of their outer metal sheets. It must have been a longer journey than the ship was designed for. Primitives indeed, itconcluded. *** ¡®A dead system,¡¯ muttered the chairman of the Good Fortune, Song Bixie, ¡®Thanks grandma.¡¯ Song Bixie was typical of his species. The Lattican were Tall and skinny humanoids. His height was 9ft, which only emphasised how thin the rest of him was. He had jet black skin and long white hair, which sprawled over his shoulders. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. He wore a flowing robe of green, fringed with red jewels. Sigils of silver decorated his cheeks, showing his status. The ship¡¯s council was eying him with worry and doubt. He¡¯d led them on this mad treasure hunt and it was time to allay their fears. There must be something out there. ¡®Many of you are disappointed,¡¯ he began, ¡®this is not what we expected, a dead system, and no signs of life. However, we all saw the transmission, there is something here. Something that has survived after this system was destroyed.¡¯ This seemed to be working, thought Song, his crew were stirring at his words. ¡®And we¡¯re going to find it, we¡¯re going to bring glory to the House of Song and let our name resound throughout the Republic!¡¯ His council clapped politely. Song coughed, to dispel the awkwardness, ¡®Well, carry on. I¡¯d like to hear the damage to the Good Fortune.¡¯ He let his council get back to work. It was his 1st time being a chairman of a vessel, his house only had the 1. They really couldn¡¯t afford to lose it. But there were no other members of House Song eligible to lead the ship¡¯s council. Despite being a merchant by trade, he had been elected by the family. He was more practiced atclosing business deals than this delivering of rousing speeches. It was a mistake to talk about the House, he thought, I should have appealed to the personal rewards they stood to make instead. ¡®Treat them like customers,¡¯ he told himself. Oh well, he could see there was a bit more resolve and greed in their eyes now than before. The Latticans, controlled a 5-system slaver republic. The House of Song was a medium sized family that barely qualified for voting rights. It had only 50 retainers and 300 thralls. Ever since Song¡¯s grandmother had informed the house of an alien transmission, 133 years ago, they had saved, borrowed, and plotted, to buy this ship. And Song was leading the Bright Future to claim their prize. Grandmother Song had heard the transmission when serving on another house¡¯s exploration ship. Of course, she had hidden it from her chairman and informed the family immediately. Grandma was enjoying her retirement now, well deserved, thought Song Bixie, though she had clambered hard to join my council on this expedition. ¡®Chairman,¡¯ the stern voice of one of the council members cut through his thoughts, ¡®the hull has taken damage, lucky we made it through at all.¡¯ ¡®Yes, yes. No risk without reward Guxu.¡¯ Said chairman Song. He waved his hand impatiently as he spoke. They needed their ship repaired, and this system explored, as soon as possible. ¡®Send 2 thrall teams out to patch things up.¡¯ ¡®Yes, Chairman.¡¯ The older Lattican said sarcastically. Guxu had been a Song retainer for 70 years, and now he was stuck following this 50-year-old welp¡¯s command. How could he not feel bitter? If it wasn¡¯t for the House rules I would be leading this expedition, he thought. Unqualified. That was his and the others¡¯ opinion of their chairman. *** All thralls were known by a number, unless they had the privilege of earning a nickname from their masters. Gore had earned his from the Song after he had stuck his newly sprouted horns into another thieving thrall¡¯s face. He was one of the 10-being team called out to repair the Bright Future¡¯s hull. ¡®Four and Feed-Bag, you come with me.¡¯ He called. His two friends followed him and together they put on the cheap space suits the Song provided. Proper suites were expensive, much more so than a thrall. Gore was 15 years old. His horns, still little more than pointed nubs on the top of his broad head, jutted out through his red mane. His thick, muscular body was covered in a pelt of brown, spotted here and there with pools of white, down to his hooves. Gore felt the straps of the suit automatically tighten over his shoulders and waist. It was a universal suit, various humanoid beings could wear the loose-fitting thing until it automatically adjusted around the wearer¡¯s body, until the fit became merely bad. If we¡¯re lucky, he thought. Gore had been a thrall for 6 years. He didn¡¯t know if his family was still alive. If his parents were searching for him, or if he had sisters and brothers missing him. But he hadn¡¯t¡¯ given up hope. He had a dream that one day he would meet them again. The squad was herded to an airlock chamber on the starboard side. Sheets of metal lined the airlock bay, these would be fed out to the thralls. Locking onto them with mag-clutches, they would drag them over any hull damage while other team members would laser-weld them into place. Quick and dirty emergency repairs. They piled into the small room. Gore was pressed against by others, he wanted to scream and fight, but made sure instead tokeep his friends close. ¡®If one of us don¡¯t make it, at least there¡¯ll be more food for the rest!¡¯ Said Feed-bag in a strained voice. Four laughed. ¡®You say that every time, and they never do.¡¯ Gore smiled with them. It was an old joke that always eased the tension. He didn''t know what he''d do without these 2, lately he was angered at the slightest thing, if it weren''t for them he''d have attacked a Lattican yesterday. That would have been suicide. The airlock hissed and hummed. Distracting Gore from his thoughts, he took a deep breath of his suit''s recylced air. His friends shifted restlessly in their places. As he and others prepared to do their work. When the door opened, Gore closed his fist and embraced the vastness of space clinging to his hope. Blackness and the flickering purple light of Chaos gaps greeted him. He stared into the gaps, each one a branching path. Somewhere out there, are you dreaming of me too? he wondered. *** ¡®Chairman, the hull has been repaired. 4 thralls were lost.¡¯ ¡®Good, hardly a loss. Immediately send out probes. It¡¯s time we found the source of the transmission.¡¯ ¡®Yes, chairman.¡¯ Song Bixie¡¯s future was hinging on this exploration. If they find nothing, then the house would be financially crippled. The Song would need to become retainers of another family to avoid debt. He would no doubt be executed or exiled for failure. No amount of business wheedling would save me, he thought. Worse, the rest of Lattica wouldn¡¯t even notice the disappearance of our house. He brushed his green robes, swatting at imaginary dust, such thoughts annoyed him. The Lattican Republic was one of the independent forces operating within the universe. Many groups enjoyed an independence of some type between the two, warring universal-powers. These independent groups, within Terran galaxies, were able to remain so by either being of absolutely no value, or through the provision of resources and services that were valued greatly. In the case of Lattica, the Terrans had been protecting their systems for the benefit of the thralls they procured. To limit resistance to their rule the Terrans preferred to distance themselves from direct involvement in villainous practices. They were careful touse a mixture of reward and punishment to maintain their control. Entities like the Lattican Republic allowed the Terrans to enjoy the benefits of slave production without facing the negative reaction of the galaxies they ruled. And Slavery washeld over worlds as a punishment for rebellion. Of course, beings weren¡¯t foolish enough to believe the Terrans weren¡¯t allowing these groups to act, but the appearance of innocence was enough to allow them to deny any involvement. Song was not decieved by the appearance of independence though. For the Latticans and others, it was hard toaccept Terran rule. They promised to themselves that one day they would be the masters, not just of their own planet¡¯s destiny but of broader domains. If the Terrans could subjugate such a vast area, why not them? In conquering others, the Terrans had awoken an appetite for galactic conquest in the hearts of the defeated. Song Bixie dreamed of himself as the head of a resurgent House, as the leader of 1 of the Lattican systems, and then as the elected patriarch of all Lattica itself. And it all hinged on a century''s old gamble that his house had made before he even existed. Yet here he was, it seemed like destiny. We know next to nothing, Song Bixie mused. The unknown prize was a relic of some kind that had been sending out a transmission for a very long time. Whatever It was, it would be the beginning of his House¡¯s resurgence. It had to be. He smiled, his ambitions were vast. Others would call him delusional, but one had to dream the absurd before they could create it. 6. Corridor Battle Orillion Space, Tralis The guards were surprised to see Klora. She was immediately recognizable standing next to the humanoid guard, under the hall''s yellow lights. As a female Avalian she was a 5ft tall feathered humanoid. Her feathers were blue except for a strip of red running down the middle of her body. She wore black flex-vest and pants, marked with her rank. Light enough for her species to move comfortably in, but not built to offer protection in combat. Her wings were stunted, her hands were tipped with sharp thrusting talons, and her legs were feathered down to the beginning of her scaled claws. Klora¡¯s face, too, was lightly feathered, and beakless. So, as the guards turned the corner and saw their first officer next to one of the spies that Nedrius had smuggled aboard, they couldn¡¯t help wonder just what the Reave was going on. They had been rushing to the power core to stop Nedrius from crippling the ship. Their coms weren¡¯t working so this team of four, silver-armoured humanoids, decided to head to the power room themselves. Various thoughts flashed through their minds in an instant. However, they were well trained, they weren¡¯t going to be hesitant in an emergency. The leading two automatically raised their blasters and fired. When an enemy is in sight, you don¡¯t hesitate, they thought. Klora flapped to the side, a swirl of high powered air was left in her wake as she removed herself from the blasters¡¯ line of sight. Bright green laster bolts hurtled down the corridor, but they weren¡¯t aimed at her. The spy sucked in a startled breath. His personal energy shield rippled orange over his body as it absorbed the blaster bolts. He raised his own and sent scorching laser back down the corridor, without any room to dodge two of the leading guards were struck in the chest. Knocked backwards they counted their blessings. Their heavy chest plates had saved them from the bolts, the silver metal was scorched by the laser. Before they could relax two more precisely aimed shots followed and struck them in their exposed faces, exploding through their skulls and killing them instantly. The two guards behind had taken the opportunity to dart back around the corner into cover. They stuck their blasters down the hall and loosed ill-aimed bolts. One crouched and one stood, allowing them to fire around the wall simultaneously. The spy, grinned. This was the kind of battle he enjoyed.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Orillion fools, he thought. He wasn¡¯t worried. The gear that the Terrans had supplied him with was far above anything these Orillions had. A weak infiltrator gets killed, but a powerful one escapes, that was the motto drilled into him during training. After graduating, he believed himself to be one of the powerful. He stood brazenly in the middle of the corridor and let his shield absorb the incoming lasers. First officer Klora, had no idea what was happening, until she saw the orange shield glitter around the guard. That was Terran technology! She realized. The Orillion Union lacked personal shields. The energy shields they had required a large power source, so they could only protect their vessels and surface bases. Seeing 2 of her crew killed in front of her, sent shivers of anger through her body. There was a time for pretty words and a time for action, Klora didn¡¯t need long to figure out what this situation demanded. She acted immediately. When the guards ducked back behind cover after firing a burst of laser into the spy¡¯s shields, the first officer leapt towards the spy. Caught off-guard, he didn¡¯t have the time to point his rifle at this new threat. Klora swung her leg around and struck the blaster with her claw, knocking it from his hands. She saw the guards at the end of the hallway pop out once more. In a moment she had flapped her wings and pushed off with her powerful legs. She jumped out of their line of fire and allowed them to send a stream of buzzing laser into the distracted guard. She didn¡¯t know when those lasers would break through. Eventually the shield would fail. But Klora knew she had a better chance of finishing him off with a direct kick, as energy shields couldn¡¯t defend against physical attacks. The guards had no time to mourn their dead comrades. They knew that Nedrius was most likely already inside the power room. And they hoped to kill this spy quickly with Klora¡¯s help. The first officer was so fast! That was their thought when they saw her diving in and disarming the spy and then leaping out of their line of fire. Klora had dived back and allowed more laser to break over the shield. The spy cursed to himself. He felt safe for the time being, but he couldn¡¯t let them sustain their fire for much longer. He plucked a disk from his belt, it expanded into a cylinder. Klora saw the spy throw the cylinder of white metal down the corridor towards the guards. First officer Klora suspected what it was, there weren¡¯t that many possibilities. She knew she couldn¡¯t let that reach them. ¡®Take cover,¡¯ she yelled. Pulling out her pistol she aimed and fired at the small chunk of metal. The thin blue laser from her sidearm connected with the disk just before it passed the corner sheltering the guards. They had heeded Klora¡¯s warning and had ceased firing to duck behind cover. On impact the disk exploded prematurely in a green ooze of corrosive gel. It sprayed over the corridor walls, eating through the metal sheeting, sizzling and staining it a bubbling yellow. One of the guards screamed, the gel had splattered randomly, some had splashed onto the ceiling and dripped down onto the guard. He had a sizzling hole in the back of his armour, by the time he had screamed the gel had already passed through his body. His choked cries and sobs died out. The guard died where he had crouched for cover. Klora knew his death wasn¡¯t an easy one. At least it was quick though, she thought. She had to stay focussed. Running forward she continued sending blue bolts into the rippling orange shield of the humanoid spy. The spy drew his knife and ignited the blade. Klora eyed the 12 inches of flickering grey laser with surprise. They were rare weapons. One mistake and it¡¯ll be over, she thought. Klora kept running, closing the distance in an instant. A smile was on her face. If I win that¡¯ll be mine, she thought. As she neared him, she heard something behind her. Without thinking she moved aside. Just as a bolt flew through the place she had previously been and smacked into the spy. The other guard was charging down the corridor, firing his blaster rifle as he ran. He was screaming. All 3 members of his squad had died in front of him. The last guard, who he had seen die so painfully, had been his son. Klora didn¡¯t know any of this. And saw the guard as a soldier that had lost his mind under pressure. She was tempted to send a bolt into him herself after he had nearly taken her out. Instead she kept firing into the spy¡¯s shield from the flank as the guard threw down a green barrage of laser from the front. The spy had turned to face the guard. The constant thumps of laser fire would distract him from handling the first officer. Rather than stopping as he approached the guard continued to charge. The spy was perfectly confident in taking out the enraged guard. What he didn¡¯t anticipate, however, was a suicidal dash. Klora watched as the guard barrelled into the spy. His orange shield had held out against their laser fire, but it provided no defence against the heavy collision of the guard¡¯s body. The spy shoved the laser knife through the glistening silver armour of the guard, the chest-plate barely held back the point of the knife a moment before it was rent apart. The spy viciously twisted the laser knife inside the guard, slicing apart his insides. The spy was faced with another crisis and couldn''t enjoy his kill for long. He had been knocked off balance and the collision with the guard had broken something inside him. He could taste his own blood in his mouth and felt himself lifted off his feet from the impact. The spy fell back as the guard¡¯s body continued with its momentum and landed atop him, smashing the wind form his lungs. He gasped and spluttered, blood dripped from his mouth. This can''t be the end for me, he thought, I''m one of the powerful, I have a destiny! Dying at the hands of these Orillions filled him with rage, he wanted to prove himself to his Terran masters. But, Klora Ascip wasn¡¯t one to miss her chance. She felt no sympathy for this creature, he had killed her crew, and damaged the Damas. She relished the chance to end him. In a flash, of feathers and the screech of her claws against the metal floor she appeared over the spy''s fallen body. He hadn''t regained his feet or raised the knife to defend himself. Klora was thrust her taloned fingers like an arrow toward his throat, unmoved by the hate she saw in his eyes. Time to die, scum, she thought. ¡®Stop!¡¯ A deep, powerful voice boomed from the opened door to the power core. First officer Klora recognized the voice, it belonged to the security officer, Nedrius. 7. Come Back to Us Orillion Space,Tralis Nedrius stood in the open door, his large form was silhouetted by the light behind, and looked at the chaotic scene in front of him. His spiralling horns caught the flickering emergency lights and glinted for a moment like gold. The guards he had trained, who had trusted him, had been cut down. And now he was forced to protect the scum responsible. The Raghoiri species was better than this, he had dragged their name through the dirt, but he hadn¡¯t had a choice. ¡®Nedrius, why?¡¯ Klora asked, disbelieving what she had heard. Was he really working against them? It was hard for her to accept without explanation. But her hand had frozen inches from the spy¡¯s neck. ¡®Kill her!¡¯ The spy, still feeling the presence of death close by, yelled to Nedrius. Nedrius ignored him. He addressed Klora instead. She deserved his attention. With a heavy heart hespoke his tale. The fall of Erasia had precipitated his betrayal and the sabotage of the Damas. ¡®There was no choice Klora, my pack elders were taken on Erasia, their safety in exchange for aiding this scum was the bargain.¡¯ ¡®But you¡¯re Raghoiri, they aren¡¯t betrayers. Even in the face of defeat your people never run.¡¯ Klora¡¯s words hurt him, he didn¡¯t need to be reminded of the lofty standard he had disgraced. ¡®Honour and battle defines us, but it is all to protect the clan and our people. That must come first, the pack elders had gone to trade on Erasia and were caught in the invasion. That was when I was contacted.¡¯ He stamped his hoof and his black pelt bristled. The shame he felt at admitting his treachery, and worse - his weakness, was immense. The Damas shook and Klora stumbled. The spy considered making a move but, injured as he was, he decided not to risk it. Klora didn¡¯t notice, she was too busy wondering what was going on with the ship. The spy gave a small chuckle. ¡®Looks like it¡¯s over for you. Nedrius, thank you for your assistance. You aren¡¯t needed anymore.¡¯ ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯ Klora asked. Then she remembered the other guard the spy had been with. He didn¡¯t mean¡­This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡®The bridge is ours. The ship will be taken by the Erasians. Surrender now and I¡¯ll spare your life.¡¯ He was in a difficult position, wounded and bleeding, he was threatened by the first officer¡¯s talons at his throat. Despite being victorious in the end, he might still end up paying the ultimate price. ¡®Klora¡­¡¯ Nedrius began but lacked the words to continue. There¡¯s nothing I can say, he thought. He could see the hurt in Klora¡¯s eyes. The crew of the Damas had loved him, respected him, and he had brought them to disaster. Nedrius sighed. ¡®This isn¡¯t over.¡¯ Klora muttered to herself. ¡®Nedrius, we can recover the bridge. You don¡¯t have to die in dishonour. Save the Damas, I¡¯m begging you!¡¯ The spy spat out a mouthful of blood. ¡®You idiots, we¡¯ve won.¡¯ Nedrius stirred at Klora¡¯s words. ¡®We¡¯ll be surrounded by the Erasians, their boarding parties will secure the crew, this doesn¡¯t have to end in death, Klora.¡¯ Said Nedrius in defeat. He was a broken Raghoiri. ¡®You fool. Do you really believe they¡¯ve spared your elders?¡¯ Klora spat the words, ¡®Is that how you think the Terrans conquer?¡¯ This wasn¡¯t the security officer she¡¯d been scolded and trained by. ¡®They needed them alive, that was our deal.¡¯ ¡®You, scum,¡¯ Klora spoke to the spy, he shifted uncomfortably, ¡®have you people kept them alive? Or were they killed as soon as you had gotten his promise to betray us?¡¯ The spy knew for a face that they were dead. There was no need to keep old and rebellious Raghoiri alive longer than needed. Raghoiri weren¡¯t known to keep their composure, if he becomes enraged¡­ the spy didn¡¯t want to think about that. I have to keep him on my side, he decided. ¡®Of course, they¡¯re alive.¡¯ He began. ¡®Nedrius, she¡¯s trying to manipulate you, you¡¯ve helped us and your elders will be released to you. We¡¯ll even send you back to your home-world.¡¯ Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. ¡®Nedrius¡­ I only care about the ship and her crew. You¡¯re still one of us, you need to take responsibility, I only have your best interests at heart.¡¯ Klora suspected Nedrius had been denying the thought that she had said out loud. Desperate people will convince themselves of anything if it gives them some hope, she thought. ¡®What you need to do, is be honest with yourself, do you really believe they''re still alive?'' she kickd the helpless spy, ''his kind don''t work like that and you know that better than me. But, the Damas and the crew can still be saved, will you really send us, the family you have left, to our deaths?¡¯ This bitch, the spy thought. He twisted his head to look at the hulking Raghoiri, his largehandswere clenching and releasing, his chest heaved great lungful¡¯s of air¡­ this wasn¡¯t a good sign for the spy. Nedrius had been avoiding these thoughts. Pretending to himself that his elders would be alright, that if he sacrificed his honour and made a deal, he would see them again. But Klora had forced him to open his eyes and confront the reality. He stared at the spy with disgust and hate. The ship might be lost, but he would erase this stain on his honour. The spy raised his eyes to Nedrius deep brown ones, he saw his death looking back at him. He wasn¡¯t afraid to die for the cause though. And the bridge was already theirs, if this was how he was going to die, then why not revel in it? He smiled coldly, ¡®She¡¯s right. They¡¯re all dead. The Raghoiri might be obstinate fighters but you¡¯re no schemers, you idiot. Your old elders were slaughtered the moment after you agreed to help, killing the Orillion scum was easy!¡¯ Nedrius staggered as if he¡¯d been struck. A haze descended before his eyes. He let loose a roar that echoed down the corridor and made Klora flinch back. In two strides he was by the side of the spy. Klora had flapped her wings and kicked off with her legs, she kept her distance from the enraged Raghoiri, as anyone with sense would. The spy fumbled with his laser knife, igniting the blade, he tried to turn himself in a position to thrust it up into the security officer¡¯s stout flank. But Nedrius howled again, stretching back his head he roared to the ceiling. In one powerful movement he slammed down his head, and with his spiraled horns he gored through the spy¡¯s chest. The spy twitched and screamed. The laser knifefell tohis side and hissed into the corridor flooring as he died. His armour crunched and ripped apart under the immense pressure. The silver plate was soon covered in his green blood. The security officer''s horns dripped blood onto the corridor floor. Nedrius panted, his body shook. As adreniline rushed thorughout his system. ¡®Can you think again, Nedri?¡¯ Klora asked him. Such a loss of control, it had been a long, long time since he had given in to the rage within. I have shamed myself yet again, he thought. He supposed there was no going back now. He had stained his honour beyond salvation already, and his very living stained it further. ¡®There¡¯s another one that I need to kill.¡¯ Nedrius said and began to stride with determination down the hall. He was going to the bridge. Klora followed several paces behind. Not looking forward to stepping into the lift with him and not knowing what would happen in the future. As they walked the ship shook and hummed. The Damas had entered the Chaos gate! Klora and Nedrius looked at one another in shock. 8. Commandeer Orillion Union Space, Tralis Vos couldn¡¯t believe the Damas had left them. His Y shaped Nestor spun through the debris of Junkars and strafing laser fire of other starfighter battles. With its blue surface streaked with scorch marks and only 1 missile left, his Nestor was the worse for wear. As he was distracted a Junkar spun in front of the nose of his fighter. He shook his head, losing his battle awareness in space was a death sentence, he chided himself. Angry with himself, and a little afraid at being abandoned by the Damas on a battlefield, he jerked his controls in his cold scaled hands with more force than usual. The Nestor he piloted dived down following the Junkar. It was easy to get within firing range. Before the Erasian knew he was targeted, Vos poured laser fire into the glowing orange engines of the large and slow fighter. The Junkar was torn apart, metal and compressed air filled the space Vos would have been if he hadn¡¯t pulled away his fighter, cruising back to his wing man and darting between the cover of debris. He swore under his breath. We need to get out of here now, he thought. The mother-ship had left them and they couldn¡¯t win this battle alone with 50 Nestors. ¡®Commander,¡¯ he hailed the leader of the Damas¡¯s starfighters, ¡®the Damas is gone, what are your orders?¡¯ Vos was normally calm, and level headed. But in this situation, he turned to the more experienced commander for help, looking for reassurance and a plan of action. With that he could focus and regain control of the situation. The commander of the Nestors was an old and experienced battle veteran, and he didn¡¯t disappoint Vos¡¯s hopes. ¡®We do our duty, Vos,¡¯ came the confident voice. ¡®The Damas had the chance to escape because of us, and now it¡¯s our turn.¡¯ ¡®Vos, take your squadron and settle into the Come Again, the Orillion Fleet is commandeering a Tanker.¡¯ ¡®And you, sir?¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t worry about us, Skirmisher, we¡¯ll screen the Come Again as you take her to the gap. We¡¯ll dock at the last moment. Your job is to get her on course to make a jump.¡¯Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡®Destination?¡¯ An explosion rocked the battle field as two Junkars collided, the victorious Nestor swirled through the debris in its wake. ¡®Anywhere.¡¯ Came the commander¡¯s reply. Vos knew what he had to do. He didn''t know what would come of it but as long as he had a task to focus on in the present he could ignore the future uncertainty. He contacted his squadron, there were 23 Nestors left, he¡¯d lost 2 good pilots but the Erasians had lost many more. As the Nestors peeled away from the battle field they headed back toward the Come Again, it was still on its rendezvous course with the now disappeared Damas. In the relative calm of the journey Vos could finally think ahead. Chaos travel was possible through artificial or naturally occurring passageways. Those made intentionally were known as Gates, certain spots in space that could be activated and led to a number of known locations. The naturally occurring passageways were dangerous and mysterious. They were accessed through tears or gaps that revealed the Chaos beyond. Sometimes these gaps appeared and closed in a moment and other times they have remained open for millennia. Exploring them and discovering safe paths to different systems could provide rich rewards. Often new galaxies and systems were discovered, expanding the known universe. This could lead to peaceful negotiations with various races or else new wars between the systems connected by the chaos tears. The gate that the Damas had passed through had been opened artificially by a Pathfinder ship that had lead the evacuation. Vos knew that with the Gate now closed if they wanted to escape from Tralis they would have to risk travelling through the naturally occurring tear behind the ringed moon. Prepared with this knowledge, he hailed the Come Again. ¡®Captain Fiargo, this is Skirmisher Vos. Open one of your storage bays, my Nestors will be docking with you shortly.¡¯ ¡®Vos, what is this about, the Damas has abandoned us!¡¯ ¡®Open the bay, Captain, this is an emergency. We¡¯ll be taking the Come Again through the tear.¡¯ ¡®You have got to be kidding Vos, there¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to risk all of these lives through an unknown tear.¡¯ Vos breathed out loudly, this woman¡­ ¡®You¡¯d rather captured, then?¡¯ ¡®As far as I can see the Erasians want you. If we surrender, we could stand a chance of fair treatment. The Terrans need someone to rule now half the planet is gone.¡¯ ¡®So that¡¯s it huh, become a servant of the Terrans? Well, that¡¯s not going to happen to us Fiargo. And we need your ship. The Orillion Fleet is requisitioning the Come Again.¡¯ Harsh laughter grated into vos¡¯s ears from the other end of the communicator. ¡®That¡¯s not going to happen Vos, we¡¯re going to wait right here.¡¯ Vos squeezed his controls, cursing to himself. In an emergency he wasn¡¯t going to take this nonsense. With a firm resolve he contacted 2 of his Nestor pilots and ordered the to strafe along the hull of the tanker. The tanker was 3.5 kilometres long. Along its rust red hull large hemispheres bulged like bubbles. These were the storage bays. They could be opened entirely or only a little, the area within was kept protected from space by an energy barrier. At the moment they still remained closed. Captain Fiargo Yeets meant what she had said, ann wouldn''t shift from her position without some persuasion. The large bays possibly contained the refugees, Vos thought, that¡¯s if the ship¡¯s halls and rooms were filled to the brim. Vos needed 1 of them opened, and if he had to fire on the ship to show he was serious, then that¡¯s what he would do. The Nestors he commanded acted without hesitation, their lives depended on getting aboard the Come Again. They buzzed down the Tanker¡¯s defenceless hull, it¡¯s energy shielding was weak but could absorb the Nestors laser fire. ¡®Vos, what the Reeve are you doing?¡¯ ''Persuading you.'' He said. ¡®You bastard. This is a civilian vessel, you have no righ¡ª¡¯ ¡®You need to choose Captain. Do you want us to board peacefully or board violently? Either way we are taking the ship. Now, pilots are out there dying this very moment, so if you don¡¯t choose this instan¡ª¡¯ ¡®Sir,¡¯ A Nestor pilot interrupted him, ¡®One of the bays has opened, starboard side, halfway down. Do we board?¡¯ Vos was about to order an immediate boarding but paused. ¡®5 Nestors will stay out and keep close to the Come Again, the rest will dock with me.¡¯ There was no point landing into a trap, keeping a few Nestors outside would be enough to threaten the Captain if she refused to hand over authority and head towards the tear. After Vos had docked it didn¡¯t take long for the course of the large red vessel to change. It began heading toward the moon. On the far side lay the purple tear, their escape. The new crew of the Come Again faced an uncertain future.