The Epherium Chronicles: Echoes (3 page)

Centimeters before Ut’liss’s hand reached Jonathan’s, the leader of the N’lan stopped. Jonathan didn’t move, but waited on Ut’liss. In an unexpected reversal, Ut’liss retreated from Jonathan and raised her head to the ceiling.

Hood had seen this before when his people had first met Kree in the caves on Cygni. Kree had been conversing with other members of the N’lan via a telepathic connection. Since none of the other members of the N’lan delegation moved, Hood surmised that Ut’liss was the only one involved. Ut’liss stood motionless as if locked in a trance. After several moments, several of the other
EDF
officers began to look at each other, unsure what was happening. With a mystified expression on his face, Jonathan lowered his outstretched hand to his side.

Without warning, Ut’liss moved and her body slacked. Jonathan backed away from the huge Cilik’ti, but Ut’liss regained control and stopped her fall short of where he was standing.

In a display of grace and elegance, Ut’liss’s composure returned, but before she rose to her full height, Jonathan’s concerned face met hers at his level. Neither moved for a few seconds and there was little Hood could ascertain of what had happened.

“There is no cause for concern, Commander.” The words were almost whispered from the translator device still clutched in her powerful hand. Ut’liss turned away from Jonathan and hastened back toward the Cilik’ti shuttle. “This meeting is over,” her translator announced.

Hood’s and his uncle’s heads turned to Kree, but their friend seemed as perplexed about Ut’liss’s actions as they were. Hood’s heart sank when the N’lan guards moved forward and took flanking positions beside their leader’s path. The meeting had accomplished so much more than he’d hoped, and he didn’t want it to end. Hood silently pleaded to Kree to persuade the leader of his Shi to come back and continue.

Before Kree could move, Jonathan called out after Ut’liss, “Great Ut’liss Hal’ta! I sincerely hope my gesture has not offended you.”

At hearing the words of the colony’s leader, Ut’liss stopped. She didn’t turn back, but her translator glowed an intense red. A single word thundered throughout the docking bay: “Ota.” Ut’liss had called Kree by his caste name. The Ota were the engineers, builders and servitors of each Shi.

Kree skittered over the metal deck and stopped at Ut’liss’s side. Ut’liss turned her massive head in his direction, her faceted eyes even brighter red than before. Kree stood motionless for a few seconds then gave a respectful bow to the leader of his Shi. If Ut’liss returned the gesture, it wasn’t noticeable to Hood and the others. Clearly, their brief conversation was over. Ut’liss walked onto the ramp and headed toward the hatch of her shuttle.

Kree exited his bow and quickly returned to where Hood and his uncle were still standing. “The Great Ut’liss Hal’ta wishes to convey her condolences,” Kree began. “As was stated previously, this was only an introduction. Other matters have taken precedence and the meeting is now concluded.”

“Matters such as what?” Hood asked, still confused.

“The N’lan have been summoned to a Shi council to discuss the outcome of the K’rveen. Great Ut’liss Hal’ta, as the Chief Elder of the N’lan Hal’ta, must prepare.” K’rveen, the ancient Cilik’ti right of cleansing, was a form of honorable trial by combat used in cases when the livelihood of a Shi was in danger. In this case, the N’lan had seen no threat from the humans at Cygni and had refused the trial. As the leaders of the Cilik’ti Shi council, the Chi’tan had accepted the challenge of the K’rveen. When their attack failed, the Chi’tan and the rest of the council had been bound by honor to acknowledge the colony and, in retrospect, humans in general.

Gina stepped next to her nephew. “Kree, what about the Chi’tan? They won’t come back, will they?”

Kree shook his triangular-shaped head. “The Chi’tan are bound by the result of the K’rveen. They must accept the outcome and agree to the terms set forth by the Shi named when the K’rveen was called.”

Gina didn’t understand Kree’s explanation. “So the N’lan had to set the terms of the K’rveen, even though they didn’t believe it was necessary?”

“That is correct, Ms. Gina. The calling of a K’rveen is a lengthy process. There are many rules, some of which this one does not fully understand.” Kree’s translator changed color, now a deeper blue, signifying a more serious tone. “Once set in motion, the K’rveen is bound by honor. If the Chi’tan do not agree to the outcome, they will lose their standing among the other Shi.”

Hood looked at the faces of his aunt and uncle. They seemed satisfied with Kree’s answer, but Hood felt something was wrong. It wasn’t that Kree wasn’t telling the truth, but rather there were details he wasn’t offering.

The ramp of the Cilik’ti shuttle retracted and the boarding hatch closed. “Aren’t you going with them, Kree?” Hood asked.

“No, Captain Hood,” Kree’s translator device stated. “Great Ut’liss Hal’ta has directed this one to stay here and continue any dialogue until a more formal gathering can take place.”

“Very well,” Hood said. “I’ll have my people set up living quarters for you.”

The deck officer signaled the members of the delegation that the Cilik’ti shuttle was about leave the ship. Hood saluted the officer and escorted Kree, Jonathan and Gina through the docking bay hatch. After the hatch was sealed, the docking bay was depressurized. Hood stood in silence near the docking bay window and watched the Cilik’ti shuttle lift off from the deck and exit the ship.

Kree turned and delivered a reverent bow to Hood. Hood smiled at the gesture of respect and saluted his new alien friend. If anyone had asked him a few weeks earlier about the possibility of a peaceful engagement with the Cilik’ti, Hood would have said they were insane. Now, he’d just witnessed the impossible. Despite the success, an unsettled feeling passed over him. It was just too good to be true.

Behind Kree’s large chitinlike carapace, Hood noticed his aide, Petty Officer Jared Martin, exiting the elevator lift and walking toward them. Hood stepped past Kree, greeted Martin and explained what he needed. Despite acknowledging everything Hood requested, the young man’s eyes never left the Cilik’ti standing patiently behind his CO. Hood sensed his aide’s uneasiness, but he had confidence Martin could take care of the details.

After dismissing Mr. Martin to his duties, Hood said goodbye to his aunt and uncle. Their shuttle was already prepped and ready. They needed to return to the planet surface, and he had a ship to run. Even with the major repairs complete, there was always an issue demanding his attention. He watched them board their shuttle from the docking bay hallway and waved one final time. There was a weird feeling in the back of his head that he might not see them again, but he dismissed it. He’d felt it before. Once when his
Magellan
had first left Earth on its journey to Cygni, and again when he’d left the planet after seeing them at the colony. He was being overprotective and he knew it. If anything, he would be having lunch with them tomorrow down on the planet. He already had Gina’s invite.

Hood felt a presence next to him. He turned to find Jillian Howard also waving goodbye. “You aren’t going with them?” he asked.

“Nah,” Jillian replied. She looked up at Hood. “Things were getting pretty slow for me down there. Besides, I volunteered for a Helm rotation.” She stiffened into attention and saluted the
Armstrong’s
captain. “That is, if you’ll have me, sir,” she voiced in her sweet Alabama accent.

Hood couldn’t hold back his laughter and returned her gesture with a casual salute. “Come on, I don’t want you to be late for your shift.” The pair started to walk toward the elevator lift when Hood’s comm band buzzed. Rolling his eyes, he answered, “This is Hood.”

Commander Raf Sanchez’s voice was easy to recognize over the channel. “Sir, our resupply convoy just arrived.”

Hood had been expecting his XO’s call about the convoy. It was about time too. They were behind schedule. The ships were due well ahead of the meeting with the N’lan. “Good, tell the transports headed to the planet to make landing. We’ll put the others in the pattern for our resupply and any personnel transfers.” He was about to close the channel, but a thought came to mind. “Oh, and tell Styles to get his butt over here for dinner this evening. He can bring a few bottles of his wine he’s been holding on to. It’s the least he can do for being late.”

“I’ll pass the message along, sir, but the
Cestus
isn’t here yet,” Sanchez said. “She was acting as the jump tail and hasn’t arrived in system.”

“Okay, inform me when she does and—” Hood started, but was interrupted by another incoming call. He sighed and answered it, “This is Hood.”

This time it was the higher-pitched voice of his communications officer, Lieutenant Juanita Wells, which came over the channel. “Captain, I just picked up a signal over the relay beacon. It’s a distress call from the
Cestus
. No explanation, but their coordinates put them right at their last jump point.”

At least a dozen possibilities crossed Hood’s mind, but a jump failure that disabled their space-fold drive was the one that seemed most likely. Whatever the case, he was sure Styles wouldn’t broadcast their status in the open. “Lieutenant, contact the
Ishtar
and have her link up with the
Gresham
. I want them ready to go in five minutes.” The
Gresham
was the primary repair vessel that had arrived with the original reinforcements sent by Admiral Tramp. Hood had already witnessed the
Gresham
crew’s skill in repairing the damage to the
Armstrong
and they were listed as one of the best for repairing failed space-fold drives.

Hood released his comm channel with Wells and returned to Sanchez’s. “Commander, looks like there’s a situation with the
Cestus
, probably a jump failure. I want you to rotate the...” His comm band beeped again. It was Wells again. This time he merged the two channels. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“Sir, the
Cestus’s
message just changed. It was garbled before it cut out, but it said they’re under attack.”

Hood felt the blood drain from his face. “Lieutenant, tell the
Ishtar
and the
Gresham
to stand down,” he replied grimly. “Notify all commands to deploy in defensive formation Alpha and put the colony on high alert.”

“Aye, sir,” Wells said and dropped the channel to issue the order.

Hood looked down at Jillian, whose face echoed his own feelings. “Commander, secure us from our moorings and have Mr. Whitaker do an emergency spin up on the space-fold drive.” Hood jogged toward the elevator lift, and Jillian followed close behind. The
Cestus
was out there alone, disabled and facing Cilik’ti or God knew what. Blast it, his friend was out there. “We’re going to get them.”

Chapter Three

EDF
Dreadnaught Armstrong
Deep Space Route to
Cygni
Last Reported Position of the
EDF
Cestus
Friday, February
21
Earth Year 2155

The
Armstrong
completed its jump and appeared less than twenty kilometers from the last reported position of the
Cestus.
The instant the huge ship’s jump field faded, her gunships released from their moorings, and two full squadrons of fighters burst from her launch bays.

Still seated in his chair on the Command Deck next to Commander Sanchez, Hood fidgeted while he waited for the sensor feeds to display on his screen. “What do you have, Lieutenant?” he called out to Aldridge.

“I have the
Cestus
, sir,” she answered. “I only have her. There are no hostiles in our sensor range.”

The data displayed on the screens above the Command Station, but Hood’s and Sanchez’s attention was drawn to the Helm Station. Jillian Howard’s gasp had everyone looking now, but they soon realized why. She was staring out the main viewport at the
Cestus
, or what was left of her.

Even at this distance, Hood witnessed the bright blue flames of plasma fires scattered along her aft section. The
Cestus
was moving, but not via her own propulsion. The fires and expulsion of atmosphere had put in her a slow, looping spin. A cloud trailed the cruiser—a thick cloud of gas, debris and the frozen bodies of the
Cestus
crew who’d been sucked out into space when their compartments had decompressed. Hood’s jaw went slack for a moment then he clenched his teeth. Sadness for the loss of life turned to anger.

He looked around the Command Deck and could see the shock on everyone’s faces. “Back to your stations!” he ordered. The crew returned to their duties, and Hood reviewed the sensor feeds on the screen over the Command Station. The damage was extensive, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Greenish splotches covered several areas inside her superstructure. It was radiation and it was still spreading. “Aldridge, are there any life signs?”

“Sporadic, sir,” she answered grimly. “Readings are strongest near the bridge and Medical, but there’s a lot of interference. I can’t get you a solid count.”

Hood reactivated the comm channel he’d put on hold with Major Arlen McGregor, who was near the
Armstrong’s
aft docking bay. “Major, I want you to organize three search-and-rescue teams reinforced with MACE units. I don’t expect hostiles on board the
Cestus
, but they’re the most shielded against radiation. Have them loaded up and ready to go in five. They’ll coordinate with Tactical once they’re on the move.” The Marine All-Terrain Combat Exo-suits, or MACEs, had proven their value several times on Cygni and in space, and he was certain McGregor’s people would need them to find any survivors.

Hood smiled as McGregor acknowledged the order with his usual enthusiasm. It was inspiring, given the current circumstances. He’d already seen the fearless Marine prevail against horrible odds on the ground and he was glad to have the man’s stout and positive demeanor on board. He’d expected McGregor to still be coordinating the colony defense reconstruction after the battle with the Chi’tan, but McGregor had chosen to come on board for the meeting with the N’lan. He didn’t want to meet them. The burly Marine didn’t trust any Cilik’ti, potential ally or not.

Hood had seen McGregor outside the docking bay, fully armored and prepared to defend the ship if even the slightest scuffle broke out. He was certain McGregor wouldn’t have started anything—well, moderately certain. If a fight had erupted, he was confident McGregor would have finished it and made it look like the Cilik’ti had started it.

Hood turned to Sanchez. The mixed look of grief and shock in his XO’s eyes made him pause. Deep inside, he understood how Sanchez felt, and there was little doubt in Hood’s mind that he’d feel the same way if it was his former ship, the
Orion
, out there. Hood remembered the nightmarish visions that plagued him of former crewmates who’d died. Knowing he couldn’t help them often made it harder. He needed to get Sanchez’s mind back on the task at hand. “Commander, I want you to coordinate with Major McGregor. Show them key areas to start their search.”

Sanchez didn’t react at first, but his captain’s steadfast words finally broke through. “Yeah...I mean, aye, sir,” he strained in reply. Hood watched his XO spin away from him, only to turn back at his next step. “Sir. Requesting permission to lead one of the search-and-rescue teams.”

There was no hesitation in Hood’s reply. “Denied.”

“Sir?” Sanchez response was more of a respectful challenge than a question.

“You’re too close to this, Raf, and you haven’t fully recovered from your injuries,” Hood said, trying to support his junior officer. “Besides, I need you here to coordinate the search with McGregor and Aldridge.”

The bruises still on Sanchez’s face had faded since the near fatal encounter he and Lieutenant Maya Greywalker had shared with the criminal, Frank Descherra, after the battle on Cygni. The beating he’d taken at Descherra’s hand had landed him in Medical for almost two weeks. It had been a long road back. Hood was sure Sanchez’s physical pain had subsided, but the emotional trauma would take time.

Sanchez stiffened. “Respectfully, sir, I disagree. I’ve been cleared for full duty by Dr. Patton.” He pointed to the viewport and listing
Cestus,
still slowly spinning. “Sir, despite our cruisers’ design similarities, many in the fleet have undergone upgrade after upgrade. They all have unique areas and special systems. I know every inch of that ship. I know Captain Styles’s protocols and I know her crew.” Sanchez glanced over at Aldridge at her station. “Lieutenant Aldridge and Major McGregor can sync on me from the cruiser. Once there, I can provide better firsthand intel of what’s happening and where to find survivors that camera feeds from our teams just can’t.”

Hood considered Sanchez’s words. He didn’t like the idea of sending the man out there. The situation aboard the
Cestus
was bad enough, but if whatever had attacked her came back, his team would be exposed. It was a tough decision, and he went with his gut. “Alright, Commander. Take the lead on team one and head to the docking hatch closest to the bridge. Find who you can and see if you can tap into the
Cestus’s
systems. I want to know what happened here, but if the area isn’t stable, I want your people out of there. No crazy hero stuff, just get out.” Hood’s eyes met Sanchez’s and his voice was stern. “That’s an order, Commander.”

Sanchez smiled at Hood and acknowledged, but Hood doubted he would follow it. His XO had garnered a knack for putting himself in the thick of things. Hood hoped it wasn’t going to catch up with him. His gaze followed Sanchez as he headed to the Command Deck exit. Just before Sanchez reached the elevator lift, Hood called out to him. “Raf, guard yourself. You may not like what you find.”

Sanchez nodded solemnly then headed into the waiting lift car.

* * *

The first of the shuttles from the
Armstrong
approached the
Cestus’s
dorsal docking hatch just forward of the bridge. Seated up front next to one of the shuttle’s small viewports, Sanchez fidgeted in his specially lined environment suit. Even from his vantage point he could see the damage to his former ship. It was up close now...and personal.

Even with the debris from the
Cestus’s
wounds, the shuttle had a clean approach to the docking port. The pilots set down the shuttle securely on the port, while the other two shuttles continued on toward their entry points farther aft. Sanchez felt the shuttle’s ventral docking port seal with the one on the
Cestus
and moved to open the hatch. Standing next to the hatch clad in his MACE powered armor suit was Sergeant Alex Toronaga. Toronaga had proved himself to Sanchez during the battle on Cygni. He was glad the Marine was coming along.

Toronaga’s armor looked more like a menacing mechanical grizzly bear, and Sanchez couldn’t even see the pilot inside. Sanchez smiled at the MACE and tapped it hard on its shoulder. “You ready to go, Sergeant?”

Toronaga’s voice came over the MACE’s intercom. “Yes, sir! Show us the way.”

Sanchez’s sweaty hands felt strange inside his environment suit. With a tight grip on the handle, he opened the hatch below him then reached down to the exposed hull of the
Cestus
on the other side. A quick press of the exterior access panel revealed the hatch controls, and his gloved fingers keyed in the code on the touch pad to open the door. The control panel flashed red and refused to open the door. He had typed in the wrong code and had to start over.
You’re too anxious! Get ahold of yourself.
After another try, the control panel flashed green and the hatch popped inward a few centimeters. Smoke filtered up into the shuttle, and Toronaga’s MACE edged in closer, forcing him to step back out of the way. “It’s open. Go, go, go!”

Toronaga reached down and with one push opened the hatch door wide. The smoke was light and—even from his vantage point—Sanchez could see the entry point into the
Cestus
was clear. In a single motion, Toronaga adeptly angled his MACE into the narrow hatch and dropped to the floor of the deck below. His two teammates in their MACE gear followed him. Thirty seconds later, Toronaga’s voice came over the comms. “Corridor access to the bridge is clear, Commander. Very little radiation here. It’s safe to bring in your people.”

“Roger that, Sergeant.” Sanchez lowered the ladder from the shuttle into the
Cestus
and descended. He steadied the ladder for the rest of his people to enter the ship and moved to Toronaga at the end of the corridor once the last of his team made it down safely. “Any life signs?”

Toronaga pointed his handheld scanner toward the access door to the bridge. “Nothing that way, sir, but I’ve got several just aft of here. Once we check the bridge, my men and I will move that way.”

Sanchez nodded and allowed Toronaga to open the access door to the
Cestus’s
bridge. The door opened halfway, and Toronaga had to use his powered armor to finish the job. Sanchez peered inside and cringed. The bridge was a wreck. Pieces of terminals and equipment littered the room. Sanchez checked his atmosphere sensor on his suit. The oxygen levels were way down, and he soon found out why. The main viewport from the bridge was replaced with an emergency bulkhead. The hull breach of that size would have ejected the atmosphere and anyone inside the bridge who wasn’t secured.

Sanchez moved farther into the room and checked each station. There weren’t any bodies. He walked over to the captain’s station. Styles’s chair lay broken on the floor, its restraints shredded. He tapped the terminal to the station, and it came to life. Sanchez turned back to Toronaga, who was still waiting outside. “Sergeant, make your way aft and take a few of my people with you. I’m going to stay and access the ship’s systems. I’ll find what’s still working and direct you from here.”

“Roger.” Toronaga wheeled and headed down the corridor to the next access way.

Sanchez returned his attention to the terminal and pulled up the cross section images of the
Cestus
. The poor lighting on the bridge made it difficult to see, and the direct lights of his suit produced annoying reflections on the screen. It was too quiet, except for the hissing of a ruptured coolant pipe above. He rotated the terminal and interfaced his scanner to the data port on the side. His team’s beacons now appeared on the sectional view. He could see the other teams entering the ship and moving through damaged areas. Sanchez keyed another set of commands, and the tracker beacons of the
Cestus’s
crew appeared. Only a few of the crews’ trackers registered life signs, but there was a clustered group close to Toronaga. He verified the count and opened a channel on his suit’s comm band. “Sergeant, I have at least eight confirmed life readings ten meters from your position. They look to be in one of the life pods, but it’s still attached to the ship.”

“On it, sir!” Toronaga exclaimed as he increased his pace.

Sanchez used the terminal to tap into Toronaga’s external vid camera on his armor. His MACE reached the life pod access door first, but many of the metal panels of the deck had been dislodged throughout this section of the hall. Minding the damaged panels, Toronaga maneuvered his MACE closer and looked into the viewport at the pod. Several crew members were inside, each in a sealed environmental suit. The people inside the pod noticed the MACE on the other side and started to wave frantically in Toronaga’s direction.

Toronaga examined the control panel at the side of the access door. The display flashed red and highlighted two locations on the lower edges of the life pod. “Commander, the life pod’s couplings are damaged. They’re still holding the pod inside the ship.”

Another voice came over the comm channel. “Commander, this is Hood. That radiation cloud is moving closer to your location. Enable the link and get your people out of there now.”

One of Sanchez’s team opened a box and removed a remote transmitter. Sanchez accepted the interface cable from his teammate and plugged into the terminal. “Connection complete, Captain. You should be able to access the
Cestus’s
data banks.”

“Confirmed, Raf,” Hood replied. “Now get your team out of there. That’s an order.”

“Aye, sir,” Sanchez acknowledged with a halfhearted tone. He ordered the rest of his team back to the shuttle and removed his scanner from the terminal. “Sergeant, how are you coming with that life pod? We’ve got to move.”

“Negative on the pod, sir. The controls are unresponsive.”

Sanchez heard the alarm from Toronaga’s suit over the comms and his own heart rate increased. The radiation levels were increasing fast. The MACE suits wouldn’t be able to protect them much longer. “Get out, Sergeant. I’ll try to get it released from here.”

“No time, sir. Get back to the shuttle. We’re going to blast the couplings,” Toronaga said as he readied his weapon. “You need to be on the shuttle when we blow the door.”