The dead marauders called their ship Bloody Thorn. Alec renamed it Redemption. No longer would the ship be used to wreak misery and havoc upon innocents.
Alec spent the better part of a day period studying the specs on his newly repurposed assault vessel. Twelve ion emitters, five multi-range Death’s Glare missile launchers, UE standard astrogation, warp capable drive engines, high grade sensors, all seamlessly integrated into the ship’s original hardware. Alec couldn’t have been more elated at the tech.
He assigned two avatars to crew the Restoration. The rest remained on board Redemption. Fara, as usual was not far from his side. He ordered both vessels to set a course for the planet Rimrar in the Galagos System where United Empire supporters were rumored to be gathering. Were the rumors true? And if so, were these supporters going to become the nucleus for a concerted effort to restore the Empire? Alec intended to find out.
****
Alec entered the ship’s cargo hold at Fara’s request. Early in their journey to Rimrar, he sent Fara to inventory the ill gotten gains he’d inherited from the deceased Marauder Crew.
He had no idea what he was going to do with the cargo. The items belonged to the victimized. They had too much blood on them. Attempting to sell any of it on the Black Market was morally offensive to him. Yet, he couldn’t return the stock to owners who were very likely dead.
“Alec, you must look at this.” Fara tapped the human on the elbow, directing him through a maze of gravity-restrained crates until they reached the back of the hold. There, floating just a few inches above the deck was a chrome colored hexagon shaped object approximately three feet high, three feet wide. Inscribed into one side of the hexagon was an oval with two overlapping circles inside, each smaller than the other.
Alec stared wondrously at the object as his mind attempted to process its mystery, its beauty and uncanny proportions. He moved closer, realizing that this…thing…whatever it was, cast a subtle, golden glow. There was a detached quality about it, as if it didn’t fully exist in this reality. A knot of discomfort formed behind Alec’s eyes, fast developing into a full-blown headache. Alec looked away from the hexagon and his pain vanished.
“I’ve never seen anything like this. What is it?”
“Unknown,” said Fara. “It is made of a composite which I have yet to identify. It is emitting energy containing trace levels of tacyhon radiation, but I have been unable to pinpoint a power source. Nor do I recognize this symbol. Most puzzling is its density. This object is twice the weight of this vessel and the Restoration combined. How the marauders were able to bring it on board, using conventional cargo lifting equipment is inexplicable.”
“Maybe…maybe they had unconventional equipment.” Alec took a step back from the object, straining to resist an overwhelming compulsion to touch it. He pivoted toward the cargo hold exit. “Keep studying it. Find out what it is… and what makes it tick.”
Fara acknowledged and said something else, but the human didn’t hear (her). Another voice displaced the avatar’s. It was a sweet, sibilant whisper, a soothing invitation. Alec hurried out of the cargo hold, trying to convince himself he wasn’t going crazy.
****
An hour later on the bridge, Fara pulled up an image of the ship’s former captain. A scarred and pitted Delqer visage gazed back at the avatar with large, luminous eyes some would probably have described as gentle. The words rolling off the dead captain’s tongue were anything but…
“We hit a settlement on some out of the way dust mote of a planet, rounded up a bunch of colonists who thought they could beg their way out what was coming to them. Fucking useless scum wads. They didn’t have much of value, which didn’t help their case at all…if the loot we bagged had been worth my fucking while I would’ve just slaughtered them quickly and be done with it. We spent half a cycle slicing and dicing them to pieces, listening to their fucking howls and mewling until they couldn’t howl or mewl anymore. Fucking scum wads…”
Fara dispassionately fast-forwarded the recording.
“…This thing floating in space. Didn’t know what it was, still don’t know what it is. I had it tractored aboard the ship. Han’el examined it. He couldn’t tell me shit about it. We don’t know where it comes from, what its made of or how it got to where it was. All I know is every time I’m near the son of a bitch my head aches to what humans call ‘high hell’….
The avatar selected the next entry. This time the captain appeared fatigued, stressed, according to Fara’s understanding of Delqer physiology.
“Maybe I’m working too hard…maybe I need more rest. I swear that damn thing talks to me…not so much in words…it’s hard to explain…it’s like it’s communicating with me through feelings, impressions. I get the sense that it doesn’t find me…worthy…worthy of what? I haven’t a goddamn clue.”
The captain let out a disdainful chuckle. “Of course that’s crazy. It’s an inanimate piece of...whatever the hell it’s made of. I have half a mind to dump this thing back in space, but it might be worth something. It has to be worth something. Or maybe I’ll give it to Demos as a gift. Let him deal with the headaches…”
Fara scrolled through additional hours of log entries. Other than mentioning a trip to Stanos Point to peddle off his unidentified find, the captain made no further references to the object. The avatar checked the log of this person called Han’el, presumably the ship’s analyst…if a marauder could be referred to as such. Han’el had no more to offer on the object than his captain.
Fara shut down the log and stared at a blank screen. If organic, the avatar supposed (she) would have been disappointed. With no resolution to the query forthcoming, Fara wasted no more time assessing nonexistent emotions.
****
The next day the Redemption quaked, pulling Alec out of a restless sleep. Fara’s voice blared through the intercom, “Alec we are under attack!” Alec hopped out of his bunk and dashed to the bridge.
Enemy ships crisscrossed multiple display screens. Actinic flashes of weapon discharges lit up the battle space around the Redemption and Restoration. Batteries on both ships pumped defensive fire into clusters of attacking bogies. Two enemy ships broke apart under the hammering pressure of missile fire. A massive reactor-fed explosion bubbled from the mangled core of the lead ship, engulfing the second one in a scorching maelstrom.
“Identify!” Alec ordered.
Fara and three avatars occupied the bridge, operating weapons and guidance. With disconcerting calm from the primary weapons station Fara replied. “Marauders. Possibly they are affiliated with the former crew of this ship.”
A much larger craft emerged into view from the twirling vortex of fold-space. It was a Light Destroyer. Not some run of the mill civilian freighter outfitted with UE tech, but a genuine UE warship. Blue white shafts of condensed energy shot out from the imposing destroyer’s frontal batteries, searing blazing signatures into the hulls of the Redemption and Restoration.
“Passive shield is reduced to 22 percent viability,” reported Fara.
“Switching to active.”
Alec clenched a fist. “Target the destroyer. Fire at will.”
A spread of Death’s Glare missiles jetted from Redemption’s launchers and raced for the destroyer…only to wink out of existence in a blast of point defense fire.
The Restoration swept behind the destroyer attempting to take out the vessel’s thrusters with anti-ship lasers. The destroyer’s formidable shielding deflected them. Aft Destroyer Launchers sent a volley of missiles chasing after the shuttle like rabid pack hounds. The shuttle whirled and zigzagged while trying to evade. Its point range beams shattered ten missiles, but two slipped through its deadly screen, hitting home. Restoration was swallowed in an expanding gas cloud produced by fiery missile impacts.
Alec’s breath caught in horror. His shuttle…his avatars! But when the shuttle emerged phoenix-like from the burning cloud, relief gripped him. Blackened splotches on Restoration’s hull advertised significant exterior damage. The shuttle flew at reduced impulse and leaked enough ion to fuel a convoy of spacecraft.
“We stood a chance against the marauder ships alone,” Fara advised. “But the destroyer is too powerful for us to face. I strongly recommend our withdrawal.”
Alec wanted to argue otherwise, but his sensible side prevailed. He was about to give a retreat order when a sneering, scarred, brutal looking male human visage popped on the main display screen.
A red serpentine tattoo wound its way from the man’s chin ending in a fierce, gape mouth scowl above the left eyebrow.
Alec bristled at the intrusion. “Who the hell are you?”
The marauder beamed an unwholesome smile, revealing a garish set of gem-entrusted teeth. “Call me Demos,” the marauder answered in a scratchy voice. “I want my ship back. I don’t care about the dead crew. They were worthless if they allowed themselves to be slaughtered by the likes of you.”
Alec folded his arms, irked. “Well goddamn, Demos. That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”
Demos ignored the remark. “Surrender now and you’ll receive merciful treatment. But if I have to send boarding parties to take your vessels, I’ll be sorely pissed.”
Out of the blue, the same soothing voice Alec heard in the cargo hold filled his head. Once more it evoked that same driving compulsion. He struggled to focus on the marauder’s image. “I’m getting tired of your insults. Do you really take me for a fool?” He headed for the bridge exit. “Fara, cut the link. Get us out of here!” Once the lift doors closed Alec shouted, “Cargo Hold!”
****
Alec stood in fearful awe before the hexagon, staring at the symbol emblazoned in its surface. He recoiled even as he was irresistibly drawn to what inviting, enigmatic force lurked beneath its pulsating exterior.
“Alec.”
Fara’s voice cut through the raging storm whipping through Alec’s mind. “Get back to your post, Fara.”
The avatar’s gaze darted back and forth between human and hexagon. “Alec, what are you doing down here?”
The ship convulsed from enemy fire, nearly flinging Alec to the deck.
Fara remained firmly, defiantly balanced.
“I’m saving us,” Alec growled. “Now be a good little machine and return to your post!” He reached out and grabbed the hexagon.
Fara started forward. “No…”
Man and hexagon seemed to merge, generating a golden cascade of light that flooded every inch of the cargo hold.
Fara’s vision polarized and what she saw was…impossible. Alec hefted the hexagon as if it only weighed an ounce. He looked serenely at the avatar, unaffected by the light. “This is our salvation, Fara!”
****
Light burst from the cargo hold, surging throughout the Redemption, seeping through its hull and capturing the Restoration in a golden snare. Suddenly, fissures raced across the destroyer. It ceased firing, stuttering to a full stop. Then it exploded into a brilliant moon size orb. The marauder ships burst apart in rapid succession, leaving behind a glowing debris field.
****
Alec’s meeting with UE supporters on Rimrar was successful beyond his expectations. He was impressed by their enthusiasm, organization and preparation. They were impressed by his victory over the marauders. All they lacked was leadership. They offered that mantle to Alec and he gladly accepted.
From that point on, Alec traveled from system to system rallying more support for the Empire. His fleet grew from two ships to dozens and then to hundreds, certainly a fleet large enough to attract the attention of the galaxy’s most powerful warlords. Squabbling successor states looked askance at this former UE officer who rose to preeminence out of nowhere.
The more military victories he won, the greater his rivals’ discomfort. When the threat he posed became too conspicuous to ignore, warring factions put aside their differences to form alliances against him.
To be continued....
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