Admiral Drai stood on the bridge of the Pinion, looking out into the aether. The fleet was traveling at top speeds without using the ripmed drive, hoping to intercept the enemy if they were approaching.
“We’ve got something!” cried his Communications Officer, a Human male with a shock of red hair on top of his head.
Drai’s head snapped in his direction. “What do you see, Garvy?”
“It’s a fleet–looks like a dozen ships or more,” he said, studying the console.
“Well, reach out to them,” said Drai. “I want to see if they’ll speak to us.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Garvy.
Drai stood over Garvy’s shoulder for a few anxious minutes, but the calls went unanswered.
“When will we intercept them?” asked Drai.
“We’re both traveling at high speeds and roughly on the same plane,” said Garvy, pressing a few buttons as he navigated his data feed. “Let’s see… yeah. We’ll be in visual contact within a few hours.”
“Do we need to worry about-”
Drai’s question was cut short as the ship’s systems all died at once, leaving them in utter darkness. The starry void outside of the bridge offered a dim, cold light, but the interior of the ship was jet black by comparison. With a whir, the lights returned and the engines roared back to life.
“I take it that was an attack?” asked Drai, his voice slightly strained.
“I- I assume so, sir,” answered Garvy.
“But our shielded restart worked?” asked Drai.
“Looks that way, sir,” said Garvy.
“Very well,” said Drai, shaking his head. “Prepare the fleet for combat. Looks like our mysterious guests aren’t interested in talking.”
***
“It’s… really something,” said Hacksaw.
“I am impressed,” said Yrinla. “Though thoroughly confused.”
They were standing by Crush, who had her hands on her hips, looking appreciatively at her star tree, with Stripes sitting quietly on her shoulder as if he felt the gravity of the situation. She had grown it as she had envisioned it. The trunk of the tree was at the back of the structure, and while some of the thruster roots were growing straight down, there were also some that would fire out of the back.
The bulk of the tree was now growing opposite the rear thrusters, the wood grown in the shape of a smooth, graceful sailing ship, in the style of a Ramshackle galleon. The main trunk now served as a kind of captain’s cabin, and two smaller trunks grew from the deck, both sporting mast-like limbs that could sprout energy-capturing leaves, supplemented with solar sails scavenged from the Ramshackle ships she’d traded Hrake for. The prow boasted another limb, this one leafless and only slightly branched.
The decks also incorporated scavenged parts, massive metal plates polished and incorporated so that mag-boots would allow Crush to walk across the deck as the ship sailed through the aether. The solar panels provided power to the ship as an emergency back-up power source, but also powered the shields and massive ballistic and energy guns that lined the deck at intervals.
Though the hull wasn’t ornamented with symbols and carvings like a Talpidarian or Hrudukite might have designed, the bark of the wood had a smooth, flowing rhythm that traveled from prow to stern, making it appear almost as though it was sailing through fluid. Crush stood staring appreciatively for a while longer.
“I think it might be the most beautiful ship I’ve ever seen,” she said at length.
The comment wasn’t meant to be boastful. Crush had learned to look at the ship as its own creature, which in many ways it was. While it was not self-aware, it was very much alive and an individual organism, and she had spent months coaxing it, tending it, and, by the end of the project, speaking to it as though it could hear her.
“Its name is the Amalgam,” said Crush.
Hacksaw nodded. “A fitting name.”
Yrinla’s face pinched. “Star trees do not have names. They are referred to as ‘Lady So-and-so’s Tree’ or ‘The Star Tree of King Such-and-such.”
“That may be true for the Astralbian Kingdom’s star trees,” replied Crush. “But I am not Astralbian.”
“So you are not,” said Yrinla with a smile. “I suppose I can forget sometimes. I spent many years safeguarding the traditions of the Astralbians, whether I agreed with their principles or not.”
“Perhaps it is time we struck the old ways down entirely,” said Hacksaw.
Yrinla shook her head. “Not until we discern why they are traditions. While a tradition is not in and of itself virtuous, it is often found to be rooted in virtue if one looks.”
“And how do we tell the difference?” asked Crush.
“That is the hard part,” said Yrinla, a twinkle in her eye.
“Please, board the Amalgam with me,” said Crush. “It is time for her maiden voyage and I would like the two of you to accompany me on it.”
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Hacksaw looked sidelong at Yrinla, who nodded calmly.
“It would be our honor, Admiral,” he said.
“Yes,” said Yrinla. “If the thrusters ignite the entirety of the fuel immediately, we will die with you, Guardian.”
“Yeah… that,” said Hacksaw unevenly as he followed Crush and Yrinla up the ramp.
“We will need to discuss how we can help the Republic,” said Crush. “I thought that once our little jaunt into orbit is underway, the three of us could discuss it and then bring the matter to the King and Queen.”
“That would be wise,” said Yrinla.
“I suppose this will be for free?” Hacksaw ventured.
Crush sighed lightly. “At least in part. But we’ll talked details once-”
WHERE ARE YOU GOING, LITTLE GUARDIAN?
The voice was strong and deep, and had the low, rumbling quality of massive stones sliding against each other.
Hacksaw and Yrinla looked at her expectantly, as though they hadn’t heard the voice and were waiting for her to continue. She looked around for the source of the noise. “Did you all-”
PLEASE STEP OFF OF YOUR STAR TREE, continued the voice. THERE IS MUCH WE MUST DISCUSS.
***
Thirteen purple orbs, visible for some time on the scopes, finally came into view as Drai looked out of the bridge’s fore-facing window. The enemy fleet was impressive both in size and number, but Drai was hopeful that the Silver Star Fleet would be up to the challenge since they had a solid countermeasure against their disruptors.
“If their fleet is advancing this kind of distance, why aren’t they making a ripmed jump?” asked Drai aloud, though to no one in particular.
“Maybe they don’t have the tech,” suggested his chief engineer.
“What?” asked Drai, turning to her.
She shrugged. Admittedly, it was a difficult maneuver for a Wabuluban, but she managed to approximate it. “Maybe whoever these folks are, they don’t have ripmed tech. As far as we know, this is their first contact with this corner of the galaxy.”
Drai paled, his scales lightening a shade. “Then we can’t let them get it from us.”
The engineer nodded, eyes widening. The conversation was cut short as an alert sounded, signaling an incoming ballistic attack.
“Intercept that attack, gunners,” shouted Drai into the comms. “Those not on interception, return fire. I want to see what these folks have for defense, then I want to crush-”
His message was cut off as the ship went dark once again. Before the restart could kick in, something slammed into the ship, rocking it horribly.
“They timed it!” shouted Drai. “They timed their attack to bypass the shields!”
The lights flickered back on, and another alert sounded indicating incoming ballistics. Messages were pouring in from the other ships, letting Drai know they were suffering a similar fate.
“All ships scramble fighters!” ordered Drai. “All fighters fan out in groups of two. Don’t let them target you with those disruptor rays, and do what you can to put the hurt on them!”
The ship went dark again, and this time a rocket soared out of the void and crashed right into the dome covering the bridge. The impact sent Drai sprawling, and he rose as quickly as he could to see the damage. Some yards out from the bridge, the rocket had lodged itself in the dome, undetonated.
“Ha!” said Drai. “It didn’t go off.”
Then he noticed something strange. A sealant of some kind had been automatically applied to the wound in the dome, gluing the rocket in place, as though by design. Then the rocket’s conical tip opened like the pedals of a flower. Hulking shapes clamored out, leaping towards the bridge with no gravity to stop them from reaching their target. He was trying to make out more details when he heard screams and gunfire coming from below.
He drew his sidearm and rushed towards the bridge’s door, but it was too late to help those on the other side. A massive form rushed through the doorway, standing to its full height when it entered. The creature, which must have come from the first wave of rockets, was nearly eight feet tall and built like a gorilla with massive, clawed and long-fingered hands, now covered in blood. It had a beard and mane of coarse, black hair; thick, leathery orange skin and a long nose that jutted out between wild, purple eyes that matched the purple singlet it wore. There seemed to be more animal than sapient about the creature, a feeling punctuated by its ferocious roar as it bared its long, sharp teeth at Drai and the others, who immediately opened fire. The small arms enraged the beast but didn’t stop it for a moment. It fell on the crew, tearing into them with vicious claws.
Drai charged the beast while it tackled his engineer, pressing his sidearm’s muzzle against its temple and firing. The creature jerked and slumped over, and a cold smile flashed across Drai’s face.
By now the monsters that had crashed into the dome were slamming into the bridge’s window, and Drai turned to see what they would do. Before he could tell if their wild claws were doing any real damage, he was tackled from behind. A massive form crushed him to the ground, and he struggled to turn, firing his sidearm at the monster’s face. It couldn’t be the one he’d just killed. He stole a glance at the fallen form of the beast who’d take a point-blank bullet to the temple. It was still there, but was sitting up, looking dazed. The one that snuck up on him was similarly annoyed by the shots Drai had taken, and fell on him again. Drai offered a prayer as he emptied his pistol in vain resistance.
***
There were only three more survivors found among the wreckage of the Vahsing. A number of bodies were discovered, and a few were likely obliterated by the initial blast. Riventius stood looking over the remaining rubble with Dekken.
“I’m sorry, Riventius,” said the engineer, shaking his head. “There’s nothing here worth keeping. You’ll be able to get something for the scrap, I’m sure. AetherCrate Hauling would probably take it off your hands.”
“No!” insisted Riventius. “Look at that engine! I can salvage that, it’s hardly singed.”
Dekken sighed. The scrap heap before them was the only thing the Telton had to his name, and was a family heirloom at that. “Alright. We’ve got a storage site here, just off the airfield by General Grubula’s command center. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank you, Chief Officer,” said Riventius gratefully.
Raivyn walked up and joined the two. “Chief, Riventius. I wanted to let you know, we got back out to the swamp and worked out a good layout for the mining facility. Kreel’s pretty pleased with the plans, but I told her we’d likely be heading out before they break ground.”
“I imagine so,” said Dekken. “The plan is to head out in the next day or two. We’ll make for Avonia and then really try to burn some aether and head straight for Kirakna.”
Raivyn was taken aback. “That’s some rip, Chief.”
“I know it’s against protocol, with me acting as Admiral and everything, but please just call me Dekken,” pleaded the Raki. “But yes, it’s a massive jump, but the Prime Minister wants to be sure we’re offering a real show of force to our new friends, whoever they are.”
“Hopefully they’ll be warded off before we get there,” said Raivyn.
“Hopefully so,” echoed Dekken. His comm began buzzing. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, answering the comm. “Yes, Prime Minister?”
Raivyn watched as Dekken’s face fell, the ruddy red flesh between his armored plates and around his face paling.
“Yes, Prime Minister,” he said at intervals. “Of course.”
He ended the call and looked seriously at Raivyn. “I don’t think they’ll be warded off before we get there.”