In space it was thought that peace and tranquility would encompass mankind and this would solve all our problems, turning us into a more enlightened species. But unfortunately with our struggle to travel faster and farther than ever before, people turned to corruption and piracy of cargo ships across the quadrant of known space (as mapped space is called). However there was a group of people who believed that in our progression of space we should protect our home “Earth,” and they started attacking Alliance cruisers and other types of cargo suppliers that worked close with the Alliance. After about a hundred years of war, both sides have gotten desperate to a solution to this conflict.
Space is harsh, nothing but the pitch black emptiness filled the cockpit window. Sparks streaked across the glass as another part of the hull gave way and broke off from the ship. Bradley, a large but kind man, hurriedly began screwing in new computer panels and rewiring old systems that had shorted out. His friend and companion James Wong tried to extinguish small fires that had occurred from the recent attack by the Protectorate, more commonly called Pro fighters.
“Damn, it’s not like we were doing anything. Those stupid Pros always have to get their panties in a bunch every time a ship wanders to close!” exclaimed Wong, shielding his face from a sudden burst of flames.
“Well this was once an imperial cruiser, so they could have mistaken us for a scout ship,” replied Bradley, pulling more wires out of a small metal box.
“What is that supposed to matter, the IDD beacon clearly shows us as a private transport – and with this crap we’ll never make it to Rigel 6 on time,” Wong answered as he threw the extinguisher into a small compartment below the flight control panel.
“If you keep whining and complaining about it, they’ll have plenty of time to destroy us if we can’t get the ship fixed.”
“Well how are we supposed to run with our LDS drive offline, and our main propulsion system leaking plasma all over the sector?” asked Wong now standing above Bradley with his hands on his waist.
Bradley didn’t answer right away, instead he connected a few more wires to the panel that he was working on and said finished. The panel then lit up and he said, “LDS should be back, but you’re gonna have to fix the leak.”
“What! Why me?” he questioned in a screeching tone.
“Because you’re the only one that fits the flight suit, Bradley replied sarcastically, “Remember mine was destroyed during the last attack.”
“Fine, but make sure you warn me before those Pro bastards attack again, I don’t want to be caught with my pants down,” replied Wong storming out of the cockpit muttering something under his breath.
“When is that idiot going to have a happy mood,” Bradley said to himself, with nothing but the sparks and pings to reply.
While Wong suited up to repair the leak on the outside of the ship, he muttered small repetitive phrases to himself, kicking his boots around on the floor and securing his gloves to his space suit. Wong wasn’t the kind of person to take things lightly and he always had to complain about it, as though he loved to complain. Tightly jabbing the last piece of clothing into place, he jetted for the airlock. Punching in the access code on the keypad, the safety hatch opened and he stepped into a small room, with one door leading outside. Wong grabbed a cord next to him, calmly referred to as the ‘umbilical cord’, and as soon as the cord was firmly latched to his suit he slapped a blinking green button just above his head. The safety hatch slammed shut, and the room was illuminated by an eerie red light. The outer door opened sucking Wong into space.
Floating in almost utter darkness with only the small lights on the ship and the twinkling of distant stars to show him what needed to be done. Pulling on the cord, Wong slowly began to get closer to the ship again. When he was standing on the hull, Wong activated his Mag boots, which secured him to the ship. These were an adapted version of the Magnetic lock used to hold doors on ships closed and in prisons to prevent breakouts for the simple reason of that magnets don’t fail when the powers gone.
Knowing that there was a plasma leak near the main engine, he heavily looked for it. Seeing all the black streaks and burns from the previous attach only threw Wong into even more outrage and he began to express his feeling in words, “I just painted this and I just bought that damn sensor.” His fury raged even further into space and you could actually hear him scream. Then he noticed a blue liquid floating beside him, and as he examined further Wong saw what had caused the leak in the first place. It was a puncture about an inch in diameter, which was located in the main injector. Wong knew this wouldn’t be hard to do but with all the plasma leaking it could definitely turn out bad if he messed up.
Slowly Wong pulled a sealing tube from his belt, and with his left hand turned off the flow of plasma. Waiting a few moments for the excess to drain off, he then placed the sealing tube around the damaged area and welded it shut with the felding blow torch, specifically made for welding in space it applied a relatively old technique of the “un-oxygenated flame.”
Back inside the ship, Bradley worked heavily to realign the navigation grid and the LDS drives subspace dispersion systems were showing signs of the previous attack. While the screens and displays flashed “Warning” messages a specific scene caught his attention, saying “Incoming Space Message.” Bradley looked puzzled at the screen because no one ever sent him an encrypted subspace message, one for the reason most people wanted to kill him, and second no one had his IP.
Looking confused he decided to look at it, and if there was an encryption to hard to break, he would just discard it without thinking about it again, since his computer had a cracking program. Bradley then went back to his work aligning the sensors, and seeing what he could salvage from the defense systems – if anything.
While in the background he heard buzzing and then a low pitched fuzz that echoed throughout the cockpit, Bradley turned, and just as he did he saw the insignia for the Protectors. He gulped his last breath back into his chest and his eyes now wide and ever untactful on the screen seeing what would happen next. Suddenly a man in his fifties appeared on the screen dressed in a white military uniform, decorated by medals and pins – his voice was eerie and deep.
“This message is for the council of the Protectorate, on March the 22nd the plan to attack outpost 452 is on time and proceeding smoothly. As for the experimental slipstream fighter it will be ready as well to lead the assault on the Alliance. This will be our day of reckoning, and we will finally overthrow our evil enemy. As far as the Alliance is concerned,. we will have full armament of Western Fleet attacking the base and nothing will stop us. Long live the ‘Protectorate.’”
Bradley couldn’t think of one thing to do his mind was so paralyzed by the message, had the Pro fighters who attacked him earlier coming back to finish the job, because he had received this ‘Top Secret’ communication. It was hard to say and just as Bradley ran for the long range sensors Wong walked in with sweat rings around his collar, asking Bradley what was wrong.
“Look at the subspace message we just received!” screamed Bradley to find the power cable to plug into the sensor panel.
“Alright,” said Wong as he began to watch the message for himself, and jumped back from the screen as it finished. “Shit, what are we going to do now? They’re going to rip us to pieces, when they find out we have this.”
“I know, I know! Fuck!” replied Bradley now scrambling for the propulsion systems.
“What is it now?” questioned Wong now in even more of a panic, as he looked at the sensor display. Two blips were closing in on them and he screamed as if they were already both dead.
Now both of them were huddled over the propulsion panel trying to get it online, but every time an error ensued. Getting even more frantic towards their impending demise, Wong kicked the machine with everything he had, and everything turned on. And the cockpit was once again filled with energy and vibrant color as it had been before the attack. Bradley was finally able to jump start the systems and maxed out main propulsion.
While telling Wong to set a course for the nearest Alliance outpost, also yelling at him to make sure it wasn’t ‘outpost 452.’ The scrambling turned into utter fear and neither Bradley nor Wong knew what to do. With the course plotted in all they had left was to stay alive until the engines came online after they had warmed up. The LDS system could be used multiple times, and almost instantly after you completed a jump but if the engines were ever taken offline there was a period of initialization or just basically a warm of limit that the engines required before you could use it.
In this case however, Bradley and Wong desperately waited for their 3 minutes to be over as they watched the fighters get closer and closer. Now manning the weapons array Wong sat with a screen to the left and right of his head. And the fire controls at his finger tips, with this interface alone he could lock onto several targets at once. But with heavy damage that their ship had taken on all the shots needed to be locked and fired manually. Wong watched the fighters slowly coming closer, trying to keep the sweat out of his eyes as his thumb and fingers gripped the firing controls.
Almost with no hesitation the Pro fighters began their assault firing shots and missile barrages across the nose of the ship. Explosions ripped the ship into a rumble with Wong and Bradley desperately trying to hold their positions. With the opportunity finally presenting itself Wong pressed his thumb hard on the fire button, the ships weapons glanced one of the fighters and went straight through the second ship causing a massive explosion to ensue throwing the first ship into a spin that it could not control.
Wong just about threw up his arms in a joy of happiness, but settled for a sigh and settled back into the weapons chair. Now feeling relief that the whole situation was over, Bradley set a course for the nearest outpost which was Relic, a small settlement colony on the outskirts of Vega system. Wong slowly made his way back into the cockpit wiping the sweat from his head still, and waving a fist with his other hand which in his terms meant “let’s go.” Bradley turned back around smiling and shaking his head, and then pushed a green button the control panel that engaged the LDS drive. The ship seemed to slow and then suddenly jumped into the distance, flashing streaks of blue and gold as it disappeared in the cold recesses of space.
The Relic settlement was not a big place to be, it only supported about 2,500 people. But unlike other settlements which were on major planetary systems, Relic took up its name from the large moon where it was founded on. Since the planet the moon orbited was completely inhospitable the colonists had to survive by starting there home on the nearest and best looking place which just happened to be the moon Relic. The atmosphere is somewhat lesser in density than Earth, but after some adjustments the people who lived there were quite pleased with it.
Wong and Bradley arrived at the Relic settlement in only a few hours, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been with no LDS drive. They both made preparations for the landing that was about to be made, and with no landing gear Wong and Bradley braced for the pending crash. The ship made its way through the upper atmosphere alright, but as it approached the surface its speed was too great and then suddenly it smashed to the ground. Throwing Wong and Bradley to the floor of the ship, with scarps and bruises to prove they had been in this crash.
When they awoke both of them were in the Relic hospital ward, with small regeneration devices attached to them. Bradley rubbed his face and then reached over to see if Wong knew what had happened but both of them had a clue as to what was going on. From a small doorway on the other side of the room, a man wearing a blue jumpsuit walked through and introduced himself. “Hello, my name is Doctor Phillip Gored. I run this facility and came across you both this morning as I walked outside my house. Your ship seemed to have crashed in my backyard.”
“We’re sorry about that, but our ship was…” said Bradley.
“Heavily damaged, I know, I was also the one who got it towed to the machine shop just down the street,” replied Gored flipping through both of their charts.
“Are we okay to leave, we both have to get back in space to deliver a message to the Alliance,” asked Bradley now trying to get out of bed with only one arm still functional.
“Well you seem alright according to the charts, so I wouldn’t see any reason as to why you need to stay other than a few bumps and bruises,” answered Gored flipping through the charts one last time before looking up at Wong and Bradley.
“That’s great then we’ll be going then.”
“Yeah, but my head still hurts—do you have something for the pain, Doc?” asked Wong with his focus slowly fading in and out.
“Of course, the nurse can help you with that, and when you’re ready I’ll show you where your ship was taken for repairs.”
The day was nearing a close as the sun slowly set into the distance of the Relic settlement, and the reddish dirt began to glow with a brilliant iridescence. In the machine shop Wong and Bradley wandered patiently waiting for their ship to be finished with the refit and repairs, because if they were to run into the Protectorate again they would rather be safe than sorry. In Bradley’s hand was the only copy of the transmission they had received in space just before their most recent attack. He pondered its significance to the Alliance, and overall importance to the galaxy. If the Alliance could mount a counter attack with its fleet in place, they would have a foot hold against the Protectorate, bringing and end to the game.
Suddenly a siren sounded and lights began to flash within the building, personnel were scrambling all around Wong and Bradley. Then a man came over the loud speaker saying, “Prepare for attack, I repeat prepare for attack—Protectorate warships detected within the system. All pilots and crew report to your designated assignment zones.” Both of them looked at each other, and instantly knew why the Protectorate had come to this small little outpost, it was because of them.
Bradley knew what had to be done and quickly grabbed Wong as he took off running for the ship. If they could get the ship into space and make a final jump towards the Alliance’s main staging base Delta Prime, they might be able to stop the Protectorate from killing all those innocent people. Near the back of the ship is where they entered running through the main under belly of the ship, and through the cargo bay where the shipment of Selenium was. The cockpit, however was sealed by an access code and needed to be punched before they could enter, unfortunately Bradley never knew the combination. So like he always did when the situation came up, he hit the control box and the door jolted open. Wong quickly ran for the navigation computers, and booted them up while looking over his shoulder to see if the main computer was still online after the crash. Bradley on the other hand began typing in the sequence needed to reinitialize the engines, his fingers moved in a fluid motion hitting each key like he was musician on a piano.
After a few minutes the engines and nav computers were back online, and ready for the impending flight to freedom. Bradley again set his fingers to work and punched in the command sequence for the weapons and defense systems, the lights turned from white to red inside the cockpit as the weapons array kicked over. Wong now seated in the weapons chair, began to whistle as he punched up the missile guidance systems, and they would definitely need them if they we’re to escape from a warship. Bradley also took his seat in the cockpit with all the ships flight controls at his beck and call. Making sure the hangar was clear; Bradley turned his attention towards the sky where he would make his escape. Explosions battered all around them and shook the ground, but at this point nothing would stop them from escaping. The ship lifted into the sky and away from the settlement, which was now being blasted by weapons fire. Higher and higher they rose until finally they broke free from the moons light atmosphere, and that was where they caught a glimpse of what awaited them.
A Glutton Class Warship and it must have been more than 3,000 meters in length, the hardest thing to swallow however was that it was looking straight down upon them. And with no formal engagement the firing commenced splashing bright flashes across the hull of the ship and shaking Wong and Bradley out of their chairs. “We’re gonna die, fuck! We’re gonna die, Bradley!” exclaimed Wong too afraid to pull the trigger.
“We are going to die, yes! And if you don’t get your dumb ass to fire back at them, we are going to die horribly as well!” replied Bradley preparing the LDS drive for another jump.
“Right.” With nothing else Wong pressed his fingers hard against the controls and released about thirty missiles at the cruiser. From the distance you could see small fighters exploding as the missiles impacted them, but the warship seemed to only sustain small hits with the shields holding up.
The engines then came online, and Bradley said, “Eat this you son of a bitches!” And released the entire cargo of Selenium into space, but just before he jumped he had Wong fire a missile right into the clutter of containers making a shockwave which destroyed the warship and anything within range of the blast.
A little unhappy with what had happened Bradley and Wong arrived at the Delta Prime base, with the encoded disc. And beamed it on every channel straight at the base, within a few minutes they were asked to dock and un-board their ship. Escorted to center of the base, they met General Oleic Hidercough, the commander of the entire Alliance Fleet. He asked them how they came across the disc, and then the story of their brief but finished encounter with the Protectorate. Proud of what they had done the General showed his gratitude towards them by giving them metals and giving them a new transport vessel to more than cover the damage to their previous one. But the fun was not over there, in a few hours the Protectorate would see the full onslaught of the Alliance fleet as the last and greatest battle in the history of the Earth Wars was brought to a close.
“Judgments are the factors of human realities,
which mistakes and uncertainties occur—
and this shall be the reason of wars.”
—Anonymous