1808/AC02-06EVENTLOG

Ω CHAPTER SIX: THE FACE OF THE ENEMY

“Captain’s Report, Patrol One Eight Zero Eight, SX05A Phoenix… We are abandoning our patrol duties as of the attached date stamp on my orders to head for the system hub at Mercurial Eye. I formally request that my crew be excluded from any reprimand in the event our intelligence is not sufficient to tip the tide in our favour. They’re good people. The best I’ve ever seen. They follow my orders to the letter. They are the limbs, I am the mind. Please don't harm the hand for the brain’s decision.” - Skipper, Captain.

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“Skimming on my mark! Four! Three! Two! One! Mark!” Phoenix learched violently onwards into the cool dark yonder. The roar of her engines echoed throughout, the glow of her engines cast shadows across her hull, dying out even the glow of the distant star. Her wingtips glowed brighter and brighter as she burned harder and harder, deep within her hull her drive core too began to glow. However it’s light came from sheer heat, rather than sheer power.

The gentle pulse of her engines escalated higher and higher, turning to a loud thrum that made the ship feel alive. Her echoing heartbeat shook her hull, felt as a shivering tremor as she fought against the rules of nature that she dared to trespass.

Unseen to her crew, the awesome plumes of white hot plasma-fire blasted from her drives stretched for many hundreds of miles behind them. The Phoenix’s frantic dash to the inner system looked closer to a comet than a ship in flight. The atmosphere of the little ship grew ever hotter.

“That’s max thrust mate, you're at the overheat limit.” French warned as soon as his screens began flashing up alert after alert. He looked up in time to see a noticeable wreck lash past their meek vessel. They were already in its wake. Stumbling upon derelicts that had no chance to call for their aid. Many of them were still burning. Many of them were still breaking apart. “Any faster you’ll melt the heating tracks...”

“Got any heatsinks in the magazine?” Skip asked, ducking them past a ominous wreck. It’s fires had long gone out, it’s hull long begun cooling.

French knew the order straight away. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he leant back on his seat. A gentle clunk rang out with the push of a button. The sounds of distant fans joined the pulse of her drives, and the hot humid air was replaced with a cool draught.

“It’s away. Five remainin’ boss.” He announced, taking long breaths of refreshing air. The roar of the drives began to fall, they’re acceleration tapered down to a more acceptable amount.

The survivors aboard the wrecks might very well have seen the Phoenix’s dash through space. She was hardly stealthy or discreet. They might’ve seen the vessel scream towards them. Their hopes would rise, only to dash just as quick at their passing.

Help would not come for them.

For that reason Jax sent them the closest thing to prayers she could, trying to recall her sister of battle’s own chants, ones that previously were actively ignored. Each time a wreck drifted by, regardless of if the eyes that watched them were dead or alive. She took note that KT had turned her screen off, her eyes averted from the viewport at all times. That would be why Jax was the one begging for the victims’ safe passage into the beyond, rather than the one that actually believed in such rituals.

Once one started counting the wrecks, the death toll was rising almost exponentially...

“There’s so much drift around here…” Skip focused on his screens, his gaze rapidly flashed up between them and the viewport. Warnings flashed on their sensors. The devastation left by this enemy made navigation difficult. “...KT Can you get me a route where I can actually scratch me balls without hitting something?”

“Y’know if you had asked me to, I’d gladly oblige.” KT announced, smirking with mirth as a faint red flush appeared on her captain, combined with a look of frustrated surprise. The moment her screen activated, her tone changed. Her shoulders sagged, her voice lost all joy, becoming as cold as the space beyond. “On it.”

French shot Jax a look that said he was about to explode with laughter. The last thing on her mind though was any kind of banter. “Don't even think of it you grease monkey.”

“Kind of trying not to hit anything here if you don't mind.” Skip groaned over their Engineer’s strained laughter, the wreckage passed so close they could read it’s nameplate. The crew couldn’t feel the Phoenix dancing through the debris, nor could they see the spiraling trail of fire they left behind. However through the otherwise violent jerking of the controls from their captain, it was clear this wasn't anywhere near easy.

“This is the mining ship Prophecy we are los… phere… Send immediate-”

“Alter heading point-zero-five spinward by positive two-five.” KT’s instructions were immediately executed with well trained precision. The Phoenix turned inflight, her engines flashing to idle. Facing to a point at a near right angle to her heading. With a minute long burst of fire, and a noticeable lerch, the course correction was executed. Space became more lonely. The Phoenix was clear. They all watched the viewport pan back to their present course, they could still see the flickering shades and glowing fires of the distant hulks… It was a display they all watched for a while in mournful silence.

The deathly cold hulks and burning wrecks whipped past them like ashes and cinders in the wind...

“We will need a burn in about eight days or we will be kissing dirt.” KT noted. The thrum of her engines sounded out once again. They were under way. “Our current flight path is skimming the edge of the trade run, Debris dispersion should narrow the closer we get to the fleet.”

“Ok. Jax, you and I are going to alternate flight shifts.” Skip hesitantly released the control yoke. He was poised to grab it at any moment. He looked at his two other officers. “You guys do what duties you need.”

“Thank frag we’re not going cryo.” Jax had her arms raised in silent cheer.

“Don’t push your luck...” Skip slowly drew his attention away from his helm controls, albeit with one eye on the space beyond their viewport. All the while as his non military crew set their consoles to standby. “Frenchie give our LS a check over once you and KT are finished.”

“This is the Ziac. Multiple hull breaches. Catastrophic system damage, life support failing. Send immediate assistance. We have families on board. Help us!”

French was silent as the distress call rang out, and even for awhile beyond. He did eventually nod. The begs for mercy were all too familiar. “Aye Skip.”

“Comeon French. Let’s give your data a look over.” Their navigator made an immediate beeline to their Skipper, quickly enveloping him in a worried embrace, more akin to her clinging on for dear life. “Don't overwork yourself.”

They dismissed themselves in silence. Only scattered nods and brief bouts of half hearted banter marked their departure.

“I hate it when she does that.” Skip groaned, rubbing his eyes. “You guys don't need to worry about me. That's a bad habit to get into. It’s meant to be the other way around.”

“French does. Far more than anyone else I think.” Jax vaulted her console straight into KT’s vacant seat. She visibly paused, realising she’d forgotten something rather important. She made a dart for her console’s connector cable.

“That's what I mean, it's a bad habit. He has his reasons, even if they're not... accurate anymore...” He trailed off as Jax fumbled with the connector and somewhere she thought was near its respective socket. He sighed. “You are fraggin’ hopeless at times you know that right?”

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“And you still love me.” She mocked, turning the connector over and trying again. She was unaware, however, she wasn’t anywhere near the socket. Mutterings and curses betrayed her frustration.

“Oh yes, definitely. One hundred percent. Like a daughter…” He answered, then waited for the perfect comedic timing. “One from another marriage anyway... ”

Jax’s head rolled back with a mighty hoot of laughter. But in a blink, she looked straight at the Captain, her expression completely deadpan. “You utter bastard.”

“You seem to be holding up alright, even though your attempt to hide your concerns if far from perfect.” Skip had brought the conversation back down to the ground so suddenly it caught her entirely offguard. Jax’s facade cracked slightly. The concern bubbled through, een despite her efforts to hold it down.

“What if this goes beyond Prokhyon?” She tapped her finger against the console. “What if it already has?”

“Then it is the exact reason we’ve gotta make sure we get to the Eye. Even if the Phoenix is a piece of drift by the time we do.” He too swung his feet up onto his console. “You worried about home?”

“Frag them fraggers this is me home.” She lit up two cigarettes and flicked one towards Skip.

“Then what you worried about?”

___________________________

It was surprisingly dark aft of the sunlit bridge. The few small portholes along the ship’s ventral spine gave very little light right now, only showing the depths of a hundred twinkling stars and the everpresent glow of the Phoenix’s cooling fins.

It wasn't a hindrance, in fact it made getting to work much easier.

KT set her datapad upon the dominant briefing table. Numbers and code flickered across it, marking the overhanging projector coming to life. She jumped quite significantly at a sudden grinding, fearing a debris impact had torn their hull in twain.

“Ever heard of ‘lifting’?” She growled at their engineer, dragging a large metal supply crate over to the table.

“That requires effort.” He huffed, dropping down onto the repurposed box.

“Right…” She nodded slowly. “So what data have you got?”

“Don't even know. I was talking bollocks. I can’t make heads or tails of it.” He looked shamed, and he was right to. “I just guessed on how much we had… Repeated something I heard a lad saying at a pub on Hyades… Sounded important.”

“Y'know French, it is ok to just say if you can’t read it. We all know, don’t go trying to hide it.” KT sounded as sympathetic as possible. She didn’t care really if he’d lied to them, he’d done it with understandable intentions. Regardless of the consequences now, she still had faith in him.

She placed her hand down next to his own discarded datapad, then flicked it back. Within seconds all the data was displayed in small, organised data-packets across the cold metal surface. “Well, at first glance it looks good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Look here…” She pointed at one closest to him. “This says Indigo’s mineral scanner was pointed at that particular ship. You probably have a hull composition report in that one.” She quickly scanned over the others. “That one has spectography reports on a detected engine plume, so you have an estimated thrust output. Did you say you had approximates about their deck plan?”

French was quiet, scanning the various files, eventually he noticed a particular data-packet, and quickly pressed it. Bringing up an image of one particular class of vessel, in surprising detail. Its hull was notably tapered, with an avian-like silhouette. Overlapping sections of it’s hull gave it a surface closer to wood bark. It’s bow-facing surfaces were sharpened and hooked like talons, and notably hardened. They had faint scratches on each, giving the impression they were designed specifically for ramming. Its weapons nearly all faced forward. It looked like a behemoth of absolute destruction, one built to annihilate its enemies before they fought back.

“Front… And back...” She interpreted the arrows around it. “Stating the obvious but dare I say accurate. Let's work off this, we’ll take the data we have and try and figure out what we can about this particular ship.”

“Don't think of me as hopeless. I just didn't know how to write more detailed notes…” He always seemed shy when speaking about his linguistic abilities. He reached forth, pointing at various structures across it’s hull. “Engines… Weapon arrays… Maneuvering jets…”

“Ok then…” She said with a smile, noting down his assessments, she looked at the vessel as she spoke to him. “Anything else?”

“What does your experience say KT?” He asked after a while, she was staring at the vessel intently. She zoomed into a small section near its bow, situated in an almost pincer shaped section. She noted the aperture of what seemed to be a large axial weapon, its capabilities as of yet unknown.

And something else.

KT reached over to French, ignoring his quizzical glances. She pressed down on Skip’s name on his wrist computer.

“Skip I’ve got something, can we come forward?” It was a moment before she got a reply

“You’ve only been back there fifteen minutes!” He replied through the PA, startling them both. She noticed a flashing indicator on French’s computer. Even on the edge of everything the OSFC still listened to whatever they said.

“French has some brilliant notes, they just needed writing down. Can we come forward?” French looked at her completely bewildered. KT quickly put a finger to her mouth, silencing him immediately.

“Don't keep it to yourself, if you have it spill it!”

“You’ve got something?” French asked, his eyes thin. She nodded hastily, gathering up both their datapads.

“I hope this is going to be a time I am wrong.” She gestured forward. “Comeon, let’s not keep them waiting.”

“We are adrift, repeat we are adrift. Power levels dropping we-”

“What you got, gorgeous?” Skip and Jax were both waiting as they passed onto the bridge. They both seemed happy to see them, which was certainly unusual. Their welcoming smiles could not hide the worry in their eyes though.

She tapped the datapad against one of the overhead displays. After a brief flash the image came upon it. Even its presence upon it hitched their breaths. The dark, looming vessel seemed barely fathomable, even in front of them. It fanned the fires of fury, and brought in the dark cloud of fear...

“So that’s our enemy.” Skip whistled in admiration, he rose to his feet, coming forth to scan his enemy with trained eyes. In his head he had marked them for death. Swearing blind oaths that this machine would be rendered as dust. “Goodwork guys for finding that.”

“There's something else.” French cut in, he fumbly zoomed into the area KT had spotted, the detail of the image was grainy on the monitors. “KT saw something h-”

“Is that a porthole?” Jax interrupted. She pointed at the same mark on its bow. Further magnification brought it up to fill the whole screen, becoming barely coloured, fuzzy shapes.

“That is definitely a room.” Skip confirmed. There was an unusual smudge in one of the triangular apertures. “Is this from the station’s optical array?”

“Yeah, believe it is.”

“You got thermals of that clarity, of that timeframe?” For the first time on this mission, Skip felt they were actually on the path to some form of victory.

“Yeah think so.” KT scanned through her datapad, eventually she tapped the screen again with it. “There you go.”

The image turned to the distinctive colour arrangement of a thermal camera. The cool blue of the outer hull gave little definition, yet the smudge was warm. Very warm in fact.

“How many images of this thing do you have?” Jax too got to her feet, she squinted at the smudge. She had seen an image like this before.

Typically, from a guncam… In the heat of battle…

“It was a recording burst.” KT answered, Jax’s eyes glistened with excitement at that thought.

“Put it back on the previous image. Same zoom.” Jax ordered. “Then roll forward frame by frame.”

KT obliged. The image returned. The only thing that defined the next few images was the change in photographic noise and the mysterious aperture below the slit beginning to glow.

But it was not that they watched.

“No go back.” Skip snapped a little too hard. The smudge had vanished. The images flicked back and forth. It hadn’t vanished.

It had moved.

“They’re manned.” He stated. He swallowed as he leant back on his console. The glare he gave could’ve broken the monitor. “They’re not drones…”

“But that thermal reading Skip!” French insisted, he was grasping at reason that would not come. “There is no way a crew would be able to operate on a ship with an internal temperature that cold.”

“Does that look like it’s an OSFC ship ship to you?” Jax hissed.

“Better question…” Skip raised his hand. “Does that look like a human vessel?”

Once again, on this damned patrol, they were speechless. The impossible had become a dark reality...

“Only thing it can be now…” KT tossed her datapad to one side, she ran her hands down her face. “First contact.”

“Ladies and menfolk…” Skip’s voice was more akin to a deep growl. “We are now at war with an enemy unlike anything we have fought before.”

“Right.” French clicked his knuckles. “Let’s see if these bastards can die like we do.”

Skip looked straight at Jax. “Now it’s time to be fraggin terrified.”

“You don't need to tell me Sir. Regardless...” She stood to attention. “Let's kill these fraggers.”