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—”

 ‘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…

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‘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.