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A Chapter from a work in progress.
Aboard "HMIS Rigel," patrolling Sector 7:
"Captain, we have someone moving out of FTL space." He
sent the Imperial 'universal call recognition' and
waited for the result.
"Where, Ensign?"
"It's aft, sir. Damned close, too. Getting recognition
data now. Seems to be one of ours."
Captain Preddermann moved to the Science station and
peered at the multiple streams of information that flew
across the multi-paned screen. Who's out in this part
of space, the captain wondered, chewing his lower lip.
"Give me a visual when you have it, Ensign."
"Aye, sir."
Preddermann strolled slowly to his Command Station and
slid into his seat, waiting for more information. His pale
blues eyes took in the minimal activity occurring around
him. Another quiet day on patrol. He felt himself
slouching ever-so-slightly and consciously straightened,
sucking in his slight paunch as he did so. He noticed the
slight stretching of the fabric on the front of his duty
blouse. Got to stop having dessert, he thought,
or I'll look like one of Julian's courtiers. At the
age of 45, August Preddermann had found ship-board life
to be too easy, and far too dull. Having rich desserts
after dinner was one of the few things to look forward to.
The display screen across the front of the bridge flickered,
then showed the vast area behind the ship. A whirling
distortion in space, just beyond the central stern engine
nacelle, made the stars waver. There was a bright flash, and
a ship appeared.
It was a dull silver, carrying the markings and numbers of
the Imperium. A small Battle Cruiser.
"What ship is that, Ensign?" He didn't recognize the numbers.
"Must be a newer one, sir, she's not showing up on our list."
Preddermann thought she was too close to the Rigel, and wondered
if he should move away from her. Sloppy way to come out of
FTL, he thought.
First Officer Hale, young, tall, her black hair cut in a soft
bob, slipped up to the captain's side. "Perhaps we should move away,
Captain? Maintain our defensive perimeter?"
Preddermann gave her a weighing glance, shook his head.
"No, Hale, that might be interpreted as hostile." He nodded his
head at the screen, "She's one of ours, Hale." He glanced at the
image of the unknown ship, "She's got a poor captain, though."
"Just as you say, sir."
Disapproval? , wondered Preddermann. He watched her move
to the Navigation station, every step and gesture tight and military.
Make a good captain one of these days.
"Hail her."
"Hailing, aye."
The Comm officer turned in his seat and frowned at Preddermann.
"Captain, I don't understand this."
"What is it, Comm?"
"Sir, he's telling us to ... 'Heave to.'"
"Heave to? What the Devil? Patch me in!" Preddermann stood and
scratched at his thinning gray hair.
"Hello, unidentified cruiser. What is your name and Home Port?"
The Comm crackled and a voice echoed over the bridge.
"Avast, you scurvy dogs! Heave to or we'll blow you out of
the sky!" The ship was filling the screen.
The Science Officer watched his screen carefully. "Captain,
he's getting awful close. Four hundred meters. No!
Three hundred! Captain, he's within our shield perimeter!"
First Officer Hale glanced at Preddermann, but he ignored her.
"Unidentified ship, are you having trouble? You are too close.
Sheer off before you collide with us. Do you understand?"
Preddermann turned to the Science Officer. "Is he pulling away,
Ensign?"
"No, sir; he's slowing but he's within two hundred meters!
Now at one hundred meters!"
Preddermann faced the screen. "Unidentified ship: Sheer off!
You?ll damage us both!"
As they watched, the ship began to change its outward appearance.
What had been a silvery dull finish, with the Imperial Crest and
registration numbers affixed in black, now began to shimmer and
waver. The hull grew darker and became a deep sparkling crimson.
Along the side of the hull a massive grinning skull of gold stared
back at them, sitting atop glistening crossed bones. All the
while it had glided closer until it filled the viewscreen.
"What the devil?" Preddermann murmured. How was that possible?
The captain tore himself away from the spectacle and back to his duty,
yelling to the bridge crew to man battle stations.
"Captain, they're too close to discharge weapons!" At this distance
the discharge from the weapons would damage them both.
"Hull shields on!" he ordered.
"No good, Captain, he's inside the perimeter," came the reply from
First Officer Hale. "Arm the crew?"
She stared at her captain, waiting for the order. Preddermann
felt a trickle of sweat under his arms.
"Arm the...?" The Captain stared back at her, incredulous.
For a moment the picture of his men armed with cutlasses flitted
through his mind. "What the devil for? If we can't fire on them,
they can't fire on us!" He turned and barked to the Comm Officer,
"Send a message to Fleet at Station Seven. Inform them we are in
contact with a hostile vessel bearing ... unknown markings."
"What's next," Preddermann muttered to himself, "grappling hooks?"
The Comm Officer nodded sharply, saying "Aye, sir," in a worried
voice, his eyes still on the crimson image that filled the viewscreen.
A brilliant blue flash lanced out from the mysterious vessel and
they felt a slight jolt through the hull. Claxons sounded on the
bridge, the red emergency lights flashing a rhythmic beat.
"Cut that damn thing off," Preddermann ordered. He strode to the
Science station and checked the display. "What did the bastard fire
at us? How did he do that?"
"Small particle beam, sir. Not enough energy to blow the hull or
rebound on him." The Officer ran through his displays looking for
tell-tales, stopping when he found an anomaly. "Shit!"
"What is it?"
"Captain, he's destroyed the Comm Array." He peered at his Captain,
feeling a bit of panic now. "Sliced it clean off the hull! It's
just gone. We?ve got no way to contact the Fleet. Nor anybody else!"
Preddermann took a moment to absorb this, eyes squinting in
thought. He unbuttoned his collar, feeling sudden uncomfortable
warmth, then said over his shoulder "Comm! Status!"
"Dead, Captain. Nothing going out and we have no ears."
Captain Preddermann straightened his tunic, smoothing the front.
He glanced at the Science Officer. "Can we power up the FTL
engines? Can we get out of normal space?"
"We should be able... "
Two more brilliant flashes lanced out from the skull-bedecked
ship and he felt the deck tilt beneath his feet. He grabbed at
the Science console to keep from falling over.
The Science Officer was punching keys on his display, reading
the figures and text as they flashed over the screen. His face
grew pale, he closed his eyes, and whispered, "It's not possible,
it simply is not possible."
The Captain grabbed his arm. "What? What did that bastard
do? What?"
The Science Officer's head shook slowly; his eyes opened and
focused on the screen again, then turned and watched the forward
viewscreen. His voice sounded hollow and distant.
"The engines, Captain."
"What about them? Can we move to FTL?" He shook the man's arm,
trying to get his attention.
"We're going nowhere, Captain," came the reply. The Science
officer read his monitor.
"Our engine nacelles are gone!"
Preddermann realized that activity on the bridge had stopped.
They were all watching him, waiting for him to do something.
First Officer Hale stepped closer to him.
"Your orders, Captain?"
The Captain turned and watched the viewscreen. A tiny portal
opened on the side of the red hull and a small line, a disc on
its end, snaked out and impacted the hull of his ship a moment
later. The metallic clang of contact was followed by an electronic
hissing, then a deep, booming voice filled the bridge.
"Heave to!" the voice commanded, "and prepare to be boarded!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
