CHAPTER 19: REPUBLIC STAR FLEET
Unknown System
"I don't like this." Admiral T'ae Ga-Yun spoke in perfect Russian, her voice steady yet tinged with concern. For a woman pulled straight out of the Korean Navy, her mastery of the language not only impressed Fleet Admiral Maxim Grigorievich but also built an unexpected bridge between their vastly different backgrounds. "We should have heard back from the Kremlin by now; it’s been almost six months since we fled Andronov. We are running low on supplies, and we must contact Moscow or Beijing."
"I would normally say we must be patient," the Fleet Admiral replied, his brow furrowing slightly as he contemplated the weight of their situation. A heavy silence lingered in the room, punctuated only by the distant hum of the ship’s engines. "However, in this case, I tend to agree with you, Admiral. I've been contemplating breaking radio silence for several months now." Maxim set down his coffee with a deliberate motion, straightening his uniform in a habitual gesture of authority. He stood, gazing out into the vast unknown, a tapestry of stars stretching infinitely before him, each twinkling light a reminder of the universe's vastness and the precariousness of their existence. The old man sighed deeply, wearied by the relentless fighting, the ceaseless war, and the countless deaths of comrades he had once fought alongside, their faces haunting him in the quiet moments. It was a burden he carried, a weight that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.
"Then we are in agreement. Let’s send a scout ship to Sol; they can’t shoot down a small scout ship. We need to maintain communications with the Kremlin," T'ae asserted, her determination shining through the tension in the air, igniting a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty that enveloped them like a thick fog.
"How do we know they won't?" Maxim chuckled softly, shaking his head as if dismissing her optimism. "Ahh T'ae, to be young!" His tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness that belied the gravity of their circumstances.
"I still believe in honor. That is something I will never stop believing in, no matter my age," she replied, her conviction unwavering, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness of doubt. It was a sentiment that resonated deeply within her, a principle she held onto fiercely, even as the world around them spiraled into chaos.
"Don't be a fool, Admiral. Russia has a long history with American aggression; they have no honor," he said, his voice laced with a seasoned cynicism honed over years of conflict, each word a testament to the scars he carried. The bitterness in his tone reflected the countless betrayals and losses he had endured, shaping his worldview.
"They are not Americans, Maks. That’s the problem with you Russians; you keep the old feud between Earth’s superpowers alive," she countered, her frustration evident, like a storm brewing on the horizon. She could sense the inevitability of conflict looming, and it ignited a fierce passion within her to challenge the outdated beliefs that clouded their judgment.
"You really think the Federation isn't controlled by the Americans? Their entire government was molded out of American ideals," the Fleet Admiral began to mock his opponent, a smirk creeping onto his face as if relishing the debate. "The United Federation of Nations stinks of American imperialism, a façade of unity hiding the rot beneath." His tone was playful, yet it masked a profound disillusionment stemming from years of political maneuvering.
"Maks, it’s been over 300 years since the start of the War. Don't you think the Americans have changed? The world has changed? The Federation is governed by other ideals too—Martian, Ceresean, Jovian. It’s not the same people our ancestors fought," she replied, her voice rising with passion, each word a plea for understanding, for a new perspective that could bridge their differences.
"Do I detect a bit of Fed sympathy?" Fleet Admiral Maxim smiled, turning back towards the viewport with a teasing glimmer in his eyes, the lightness of the moment returning just for a breath, but the tension was still palpable, hovering just beneath the surface.
"Of course not, old man. I’m just more realistic than you old guard Russians," she retorted, a playful edge to her tone, the banter a refreshing distraction from the weight of their reality. In this brief exchange, they found a moment of respite from the chaos that surrounded them.
The Fleet Admiral laughed at the old joke, crafting a witty retort to jab at the young Admiral's Korean heritage when he suddenly noticed several flashes of light flickering in the distant void. The two Admirals exchanged glances, the laughter dying on their lips as they became acutely aware that their light-hearted banter had been overshadowed by an urgent matter. They quickly walked towards the com panel on the wall just as emergency lights activated, bathing the room in a stark red hue that cast ominous shadows across their faces. A blaring warning sound shrieked on the loudspeakers, followed by a man’s voice echoing through the chaos. "Action Stations, all hands to your stations!"
Admiral Maxim waited a few more seconds, allowing the gravity of the situation to settle in, before leaving his office. He glanced out into the abyss as more flashes of light continued to illuminate the darkness, each burst a reminder of the dangers lurking in the void, concealed threats that could unravel everything they had fought for. "Report!" he ordered the moment he stepped onto the bridge, his voice firm and commanding, cutting through the rising tension like a knife.
"Sir, we have multiple unknown contacts emerging from hyperspace. So far, we have over seven hundred. Our threat computer is calculating classifications across the board; we have ships as small as corvettes and as large as dreadnoughts. They are not broadcasting friend or foe identifications," the bridge operations officer reported, his tone laced with urgency as he relayed the alarming news, his eyes darting over the myriad of screens filled with flashing alerts, each one a stark reminder of the unfolding crisis.
"Are they within optical range?" Admiral Ga-Yun asked, her focus razor-sharp, her military training kicking in as adrenaline surged through her veins. She felt the familiar rush of combat readiness wash over her, sharpening her instincts.
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"Yes, Ma'am. Range to the closest contact is 15 light seconds," he replied, his voice steady despite the rising tension that enveloped the bridge like a thick fog, pressing down on them all.
"Let’s see them," she commanded, her heart racing, each beat echoing the urgency of their predicament. The stakes had never felt higher, and the need for clarity was paramount.
The large display panel in the center of the room, which normally displayed vital ship information, had been replaced by a live feed of the alien armada looming just outside of weapons range. The crew stared, their eyes glued to the screen, peering fifteen seconds into the past and catching a close view of ships that were completely foreign to them, each silhouette a testament to the unknown, a harbinger of the challenges that lay ahead.
"Sir, we are receiving a transmission—a tight beam directed straight towards us, audio only." The Communications officer interrupted the room's tense silence, the weight of his words heavy in the air, a moment of uncertainty hanging like a fragile thread.
Admiral Maxim looked at his exec, a mix of curiosity and concern flitting across his face. "This should be interesting," he muttered, the intrigue momentarily distracting him from the looming threat, igniting a flicker of hope amidst the overwhelming dread.
Admiral Ga-Yun nodded, her eyes still fixed on the display panel, watching the ominous fleet enter the system with a sense of trepidation. "Let’s hear it."
The Comms officer pressed a few buttons to play the transmission. "Comrades of the Republic." A deep voice resonated over the speakers, speaking Russian with impeccable accent and dialect that carried a tone of authority. "I am Grand Admiral Enki of the Sumerian Imperial Fleet. We mean you no harm. I am here representing the Sumerian Empire, and we have representatives of The Republic of Russian Nations and The United Federation of Nations on board. We are here to offer our services in the defense of your home world." The words hung in the air, laden with implications that sent a ripple of unease through the crew.
Admiral Ga-Yun broke her gaze from the screen, her expression morphing into one of disbelief as she gawked at Admiral Maxim, her eyes contorted in confusion and disbelief. "Representatives of the Republic and Federation? What the hell is going on?"
"Nothing good, Admiral, no, nothing good," Admiral Maxim replied, straightening his uniform out of pure habit, the instinct to look presentable taking over in such a critical moment. The chaos around them felt like a storm ready to break, and he sensed that the worst was yet to come. "Communications, send a fleet-wide alert. I want all ships ready for counterattack."
Before the Communications officer could acknowledge his order, a new development interrupted him, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Admiral, they are transmitting Republic command codes. They are from Minister Bortsova."
"What in the hell?" Admiral Maxim muttered under his breath, disbelief washing over him like cold water. "Communication, transmit a reply back on the same tight beam to the broadcasting ship."
"Aye, transmitter open," came the quick response, the urgency palpable in the air as anticipation crackled like electricity.
"Alien ships, this is Fleet Admiral Maxim Grigorievich of the Republic Star Fleet. You have entered RRN space while transmitting information only obtainable through the capture and torture of our leaders. This is an act of aggression against the Republic. Surrender your ships and prepare to be boarded," the Admiral declared, his voice steady and resolute as he signaled to cut the transmission, the weight of his words settling heavily in the room. He strode purposefully towards the tactical display station, noticing the bridge crew were silent, their faces pale and eyes wide, staring off into the distance behind him as if anticipating the inevitable conflict that loomed ahead.
"Maks! It's good to see you!" Maxim heard a familiar voice, one that was not being projected from the speakers—a voice he had not heard in over a year and one he had feared was lost forever.
The Admiral turned around, his heart racing, unsure of what he was expecting to find in this moment of chaos. What he saw made him momentarily speechless, his breath caught in his throat, disbelief mingling with a flicker of hope.
"I know, it’s crazy," Minister Lana Gennadievna said, wearing a warm smile that illuminated her face upon seeing her close friend. "I don’t quite understand it; it’s some sort of holographic projection technology, and it’s instantaneous. Zero delay—it seems like magic to me!" Her enthusiasm contrasted sharply with the tension that gripped the bridge, a bright light in the darkening storm.
"It’s… most astonishing," Admiral Grigorievich replied, still trying to process the surreal moment, his mind racing to catch up with his emotions. "Are you alright? Have they hurt you?"
"No! Not at all; they are allies. Maks, Sol was invaded and is currently under threat," she explained, her expression shifting from joy to urgency, the gravity of their situation settling in like a cold shroud.
"Is Moscow still there?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, each word a plea for reassurance, a desperate hope clinging to the possibility of survival.
"Earth has not been hit yet, but it's in danger. The same alien forces that destroyed Andronov also obliterated Orion, and now they are knocking at our front door," Lana paused for a moment, her brow furrowing as she motioned for someone to join her, urgency etched on her features. "Admiral, this is Senator Jaekob Rhindle, representing the Federation." The senator for the Outer Rim Alliance appeared in holographic form, standing next to Lana, his demeanor confident yet cautious, as if aware of the delicate balance of their situation.
"Admiral, it is a pleasure to meet you," Senator Rhindle spoke in English, a language he had never quite mastered but used nonetheless, his tone respectful, though tinged with an undercurrent of tension that underscored the gravity of their discussion.
"Admiral," Lana continued in English, her voice earnest, "the Kremlin and The Compound have come to an agreement; we are at a ceasefire. Peace is finally within our grasp!" Her words hung in the air like a fragile promise, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.
"That is impossible," Admiral Grigorievich replied in English, skepticism etched across his face, his mind wrestling with the implications of her words. "The Federation never wanted peace." The notion felt like a cruel joke, too far removed from the brutal reality they faced.
"I assure you, Admiral, peace is everything we have ever wanted. The Republic is our brothers and sisters, not enemies," Jaekob interjected, his voice steady and sincere, a plea for understanding in the midst of chaos. It was a sentiment that resonated, yet felt almost naive in light of the bloodshed that had come before.
"Admiral," Lana paused, her gaze piercing as she held his attention. "Maks, The Federation needs us—all of humanity needs us. Your fleet, alongside the Sumerian fleet, will join forces with the Federation fleet and Centaurian forces. Together, we may just have a chance of stopping this threat and saving the planet, and the system." Her urgency was palpable, each word a call to action that reverberated in the silence.
"Communications," Admiral Grigorievich called out without breaking his gaze from the Foreign Minister, his mind racing with possibilities, each scenario unfolding like a tapestry of fate. "Broadcast a fleet-wide stand down, and prepare a shuttle to pick up the Minister and our guests. Lana, Senator Rhindle, please join me onboard my ship, and we will discuss the plan." The tension in the air shifted subtly, a fragile alliance forming in the face of an impending storm, as hope flickered like a candle against the encroaching darkness.