Tales From the Terran Republic - Chapter 305

The Vestoon SDF fleet clustered nervously around their homeworld at highest alert.

The reason? A Forsaken battle group entered the system moments ago.

They were NOT prepared for this.

He had told them, hecking TOLD them that this would happen. He told those Fed cruisers that the attack on the Keevels was a distraction, that the Forsaken would never send such a light force to do anything but exactly what they were doing, acting as a diversion.

The only inaccuracy in his prediction was that it wasn’t a second. It was two hours. The Federation cruisers wouldn’t even reach the Keevel by the time that those monsters were done.

“At least they aren’t here for us,” the admiral said to nobody in particular.

“Admiral?” a lieutenant asked.

“They aren’t here for us,” he said. “They are here for the relay.”

“Goddess…”

“The Forsaken have just entered hyperspace,” another Vestoon cried, “Signature indicates an intrasystem jump.”

“Are all of our people away from the relay?”

“Yes, Admiral. The evacuation started immediately following your order.”

“Then, as we have been repeatedly informed, this is not a system matter. Have all ships stand ready and prepare to transmit immediately upon their return to norma…”

“Admiral! They have already jumped in!”

“Location?”

“Seventeen hundred meters from the hypespac… Weapons launch!”

“Efficient fiends, aren’t they?”

The Admiral watched impassively as the words signal lost appeared over the icon representing the relay on his screen.

“The relay has been destroyed, repeat, the beacon has been destroyed! Emission spectroscopy from our recon drones indicates the presence of plutonium, uranium, lithium, and deuterium, among other elements. They used Terran… I guess human thermonuclear devices.”

“Number of devices?” the admiral asked with a tongue flick.

“Three, Admiral.”

“Goddess, they weren’t messing about, were they? Any survivors? Escape pods?”

“No, Admiral.”

“Well, that’s tragically convenient. Is the Sunrise ready?”

“It stands ready at your order, Admiral.”

“Excellent. Let me know the moment their ships depart.”

He smiled.

“Let’s go for four.”

***

Len Darter sat in the command char of the Faithless and smiled.

“That’s a few billion worth of confetti,” he said with a smooth and easy smile. Not a bad day’s work. “All ships confirm jump cords.”

He took a sip of dynacaff and winced. It was vile, but it got the job done. Considering that coffee and tea weren’t going to be priorities anytime soon, he might as well get used to the crap.

Maybe if I tried it iced…

“All ships have confirmed their cords, Boss,” a cute Pol-Ka woman chirped, her crest fluttering slightly.

“All ships ready to jump?”

“Secondary interstellar drives are hot on all vessels,” the Pol-Ka replied.

“Gotta love these new rigs,” Len chuckled, “All ships, prepare to jump in five minutes.”

“Boss?” a burly olive-skinned man with dreadlocks said, “We have an incoming message. Somebody wants to talk. It’s not FTL. It’s a tightbeam laser.”

“SDF?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Ken. Put them through… and find out where they hell they are.”

An Aat, dressed in well-crafted chainmail and an intricately decorated black fur and leather coat with silver fittings. Even notable was the finely crafted sword at his hip.

It looked like steel, not bronze, not just any steel. Len suspected that the ripples and whorls along its length were the real thing, not some cheap knockoff.

The sword alone was worth thousands… if you could get one at all.

“Hello there,” Len said, quite intrigued, “I am Len, leader of this merry little band. How may I help you?”

“I Cro,” the Aat said laying a paw like hand on his chest. “I no captain. Captain work for me.”

“I see,” Len smiled. “So, Cro. What can the Forsaken do for you today?”

Cro reached into his coat and pulled out a small box. He opened it and Len’s eyebrow raised in surprise.

In it was an old Solar System Consolidated Identification Card.

“Great grandfather given favor. I claim it. I need thing done.”

“Well, I am more than happy to help ya,” Len said. “But you kind of caught us at a rather inconvenient time. By the way, I’m a little surprised you are here.”

“We know you come. We wait.”

“I’m going to want a little more detail, but this isn’t the time,” Len replied. “We are a couple minutes away from our jump and I’m not telling you where we’re going. Are you tech savvy enough to use the pirate net?”

“I not smart. I hire smart.”

“Smart,” replied and the Aat grinned a feral smile. “I am transmitting a darkweb address. It will help you get in touch with us.”

He looked at the chainmail and the wootz steel.

“I am sure we would love to chat.”

Len’s sensor operator waved his hand.

Delk stealth smuggler ship range 26,320 meters. It’s a nice one. Wouldn’t have seen it if they weren’t beaming. We have it passively locked. Say the word and they are smoke. Appeared on the main screen.

The Aat’s expression darkened.

“Me want talk ear to ear, no email. No trace.”

“If that’s what you want, I’m sure we can accommodate you but unless you want to transfer to my ship and ride with us, that’s the best I can do.”

“Me come aboard.” the Aat replied.

“Your ship is cleared to approach. You don’t have to decloak and I advise against it. This place is crawling with drones.”

The Aat beamed at him happily and in a much more Aat like fashion.

“Nice nice!”

He turned to look at someone off screen.

“See? I tell you humans nice!”

He happily turned back to Len.

“Me right there!”

As the screen went dead, Len turned to his communications officer.

“All ships, jump and await orders. We will remain to take passengers aboard. Consider us potentially compromised until informed by dispatch.”

As the other ships jumped away, Len’s ship started accelerating towards the stealth ship.

***

“Now what’s going on?” the admiral mused as all but one of the invaders jumped away.

“Admiral!” someone cried, “There’s a second ship!”

“And you missed it previously?” he chuckled, “How careless… I’m just humor speaking,” he hastily added as he saw the Vestoon’s stricken expression. “The fact that you can locate a properly equipped stealth vessel with the garbage we have been allotted is to your credit. How did you find it?”

“I didn’t,” the sensor operator replied proudly, “I detected the ship shaped nothing as it approached the Forsaken vessel… They seem to be docking.”

“Now that is odd,” the admiral replied. “On the surface this would be the perfect time to strike. However, the foundation of the matter is that I do not care. This is a Federation concern and, as we have been repeatedly informed, above us. Therefore, that is where it will remain, above us and beyond our reach. I am not losing one of the handful of vessels we were allowed on the Federation’s behalf. We have no quarrel with the Forsaken and am more than content to keep it that way. Send one of the unarmed drones in closer but only one of the unarmed ones.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“This makes little sense. Why in blazes would they dock here? I mean, they know they have plenty of time, but still. This is a completely needless risk.”

“Admiral?”

“They say speaking to oneself is a sign of insanity,” he said, “but only the insane would want my job.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

***

Len stepped forward as the airlock opened and Cro walked in.

His eyebrowed raised once more as he and his scanners got a better look at the strange guest.

The Aat was wearing leather and fur brigandine over chainmail as well as an additional row of overlapping plates running down his spine and first third of his tail.

The weight would be impossible even for an Aat… if were metal.

Armorplas. The underlayment was a hand tailored and very high-quality miner’s jumpsuit complete with arc flash protection and a non-Newtonian impact gel. That gear wasn’t just modern combat armor. It was better.

The sword, however, was metal and it was actual, wootz, the real shit.

Aside from the obvious, however, it was all clearly Aat made.

This just got more and more interesting.

“Welcome to the Faithless,” he said. “I am Len, the owner of this rust bucket.”

“I Cro,” the Aat said as he scampered up and extended his paw-hand in a human style handshake.

More Aats, dressed in much more normal jump suits exited, carrying richly engraved and decorated chests.

“Is okay if some stay?”

“We’re a freighter… or we were, anyway,” Len replied. “We have plenty of room.”

“Who want stay?” Cro asked.

“Ckeke. EeE Burrrrr…”

“We not home,” Cro said. “Talk Fed.”

“Okay… Cro…” the Aat replied with some difficulty. “We… all want stay. We… follow Cro. We follow Cro… wherever… Cro is.”

“Nicey nice!” Cro exclaimed. “You all good Aat!”

The Aats beamed at him with slightly awestruck happiness.

“We… get rest stuff!”

“I help.”

“No Cro… You do star stuff… We… We do… Aat things.”

“Me Aat too!”

“Human… want talk. You talk… we do easy thing.”

Cro chrred in mock anger and flicked out his tongue to the delight of his people and then turned back to Len.

He pulled out the ID.

“Human live long time. Do you know man? Does he live?”

Len took the ID and his eyes widened.

“I don’t know him personally,” Len replied, but I know for sure that he’s still alive.

He flipped the card over.

I owe this Aat big time. Consider him family.

“Fuck…” Len muttered.

He returned the ID.

“You take me to him?” Cro asked.

“I don’t know if I will be the one to do it,” Len replied, “but I assure you that we will get you to him.”

“Happy thanks!”

Cro turned to check on his fellows who were chittering happily among themselves as crate after crate was off loaded.

He turned back.

“We brought presents!” he enthused. “They say that you in space long time, yes?”

“For a bit.”

Cro scampered in a very undignified fashion to one of the crates and opened it, revealing fresh fruit.

“You like?” he said as he held up a huge ripe watermelon over his head.

“I like!” Len exclaimed. “Where did you get the watermelon?”

“Aat love watermelon and watermelon has seeds!”

“One mystery solved,” Len smiled, “Two to go. Where did you get that gear?”

“We made it!”

“But how?”

“You give tablet,” Cro said. “You did not give Aat tablet,” he said a bit accusingly, “But Aat got tablet. Aat love tablet. Pictures. Many many pictures.”

“And you went from early bronze age to medieval overnight,” Len chuckled. “I bet the birds are pissed.”

“Xx very mad at you,’ Cro grinned. “They say ruined. They say contaminated. We say tough. Endwar coming. Xx say they protect.”

Cro paused thoughtfully.

“Xx good. Xx nice. Endwar not for nice. Endwar not for good. Endwar come Xx try protect but Xx protect self first. Leave Aat. Nobody protect Aat but Aat.”

“Aat smart,” Len replied.

“Aat dumb but not butt dumb,” Cro replied. “Only butt dumb butt not see what come. Endwar may take Aat but we not let endwar take Aat.”

“Smarter than star soft,” Len replied.

“That not hard,” Cro replied. “Hey, how many Fed it take to light candle…”

A short time and a hastily calculated jump later (still in plenty of time to avoid the Federation) Len and his crew sat with Cro and his people enjoying a feast.

Fresh fruits, vegetables, meats… It was like a dream come true to the hardened pirates.

Raising his voice slightly to be heard over the near orgasmic noises his crew was making, Len asked, “Hey, Cro, there is one mystery left?”

“Yes?” Cro asked as he popped a whole small fish in his mouth.

“How did you get that ID?”

“Great great grandfather.”

“And how did he get it?”

***

One hundred years ago, a scruffy grease covered human and a shabby Aat crawled out of the machinery spaces of an even shabbier spaceport.

“Well, I think that’s done,” the human said as he wiped his greasy hands on an equally greasy jump suit, achieving little in the end. “And that little tap I slipped in there will be great for a little off the books powercell charger.”

“You smart!” the Aat said.

“If I was smart,” the human replied, “I wouldn’t be stuck in this goddamned contract… sorry,” he added hastily. “I didn’t mean to say…”

“But we not smart!” the Aat laughed. “That why we here… with you, Gil.”

“Ha!” Gil laughed. “You’re all right, bro.”

“But my name Vro, not Bro.”

Gil laughed and carefully slapped the Aat’s back. (Didn’t want to knock him over again.)

“Bro is a human word,” he chuckled, “It means brother.”

“You call me brother?!?”

“Why not? Ever since we got suck in this goddamned place, you guys have been looking out for us, showing us the ropes, the good spots, how to… I don’t know… do all of this bullshit.”

“We all in same place so we help.”

“Exactly,” Gil replied. “just like…”

His voice trailed off and he seemed to transform, making Vro’s fur bristle as he felt a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. Where his friend and fellow contract laborer once stood, there was something else…

…something scary.

“Get out of here, Vro. Now!” Gil hissed as other humans started stepping from the shadows.

His friend drew a knife as the other humans did the same.

Vro ran.

***

At least Vro got away Gil thought as he crawled towards an access hatch leaving a trail of blood behind him.

That’s what they say about a knife fight. The loser dies on the spot. The winner dies in the ambulance… Too bad there’s no ambulance this time.

His consciousness started to fade as he started to feel cold, very cold.

Not… Not a good sign…

Gil shrugged and stopped trying to crawl.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

At least it’s finally over…

***

Pain.

More than a little surprised, Gil regained consciousness. Keeping his eyes closed he carefully listened to the sounds around him.

Aats

He opened his eyes.

“Awake!” a young Aat woman yelled. “He live!”

“Hree?” he asked the young Aat, “What… How?”

“Vro not run away all the way,” Hree replied proudly. “He hide. After…”

She looked distressed.

“After you… um… Well! Vro locked door and stopped blood best could. Then he brought here…”

She looked away.

“Sorry about arm. We have no star stuff. Vro had to stop blood.”

Gil looked over to see most of his left arm missing.

“Well, shit.”

“Fuck!” a blessedly familiar woman’s voice shouted. “You didn’t die. Guess you’re back in charge.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Gil weakly smirked.

“The star rats did a pretty good job of patching you up…”

“They are called Aats, Vela. Aats. Not rat. Got it?”

“Well the Aats did a pretty job with glue and spit…”

“And let me guess, a tourniquet?”

“Yep. Your arm was already dead by the time they got us.”

“We sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Vela said. “You saved his life with that thing, Lord knows why.”

“He called us brother!” Hree snapped. “We family. We take care family”

“Not sure if you want it,” Vela replied, “but we do as well.”

Vela looked down at Gil.

“And then we used the last of our meds to finish the job.”

“Did you eat my arm?”

“Of course.”

“Did you save me any?”

“Maybe enough for a sandwich.”

“Greedy fucks.”

“Heh.”

Vela’s expression darkened.

“They didn’t just hit you. We lost Tamara, Jack… and his kids…”

Gil made a quiet little noise that made Hree back away in fear.

“What are we gonna do… Boss?” Vela asked in a way that said she wasn’t asking.

“We just wanted to be left alone…” Gil hissed, “They want to revive the past? Fine. It’s revived. Get the others.”

His eyes glowed with malice.

“We’re back in business,” he smiled, “And the first order of business is a company barbecue.”

“Yes, Boss!”

***

“Traitor!” a Vulxeen Naval Captain shouted at the image of the Vestoon admiral. “You just let them destroy the relay without resistance! Traitor! Traitor and coward!”

“As opposed to letting them destroy the relay after losing half of my fleet?” the admiral replied. “There is no way my corvettes and single destroyer had a hope in hell against those Forsaken gunships. My best ship probably couldn’t even pierce their shields. Forgive me for not throwing away my fellows.”

“I will have your head for this!”

“I invite you to try, greypig,” the admiral replied using the human slur.

“What did you call me?!?”

“I called you a grey pig,” the admiral replied. “I have no idea what a pig is, but it must be the most loathsome of creatures… or horribly insulted by the comparison.”

The Vulxeen screamed and cursed incoherently as the Vestoon admiral smiled at him pleasantly.

“I will have your job, your career!” the captain screeched.

“Captain,” the admiral said pleasantly, “I will take this moment to remind you that while I am SDF, my rank is recognized by the Federation. You will respect that.”

The Vulxeen fell silent, nearly exploding with rage.

“It is most unusual for this to be done at our ranks, but you will also stand at attention when you speak to a superior officer.”

The Vulxeen rose, shivering with hate.

“There. Now before I have you court-martialed for insubordination,” the Vestoon chuckled, “My tactical and strategic decisions are not for you to question. Just as Federation concerns are above us, my decisions involving my fleet are above you. As a courtesy, I did deploy drones and did obtain some very useful information. I am willing to give you a briefing if you wish before I relay the information to your superiors. Do you wish to receive a briefing?”

“…Yes.”

The admiral just smiled and looked at him expectantly.

“…Yes… sir…”

“Ensign, if you would,” the admiral said as the screen switched to a slender and muscular Vestoon female.

“Today, at 14:37 Federation Standard Time, eight Forsaken gunships led by the Faithless entered the system. After a fifteen-minute delay, they jumped to close proximity to Federation Hyperspace Relay 112 and opened fire…”

She paused and smiled slightly.

“Four thermonuclear detonations were detected shortly thereafter…”