Trade between the Orion Directorate and the UN was very one sided. There were simply things they refused to sell the Humans. Technologies that would threaten the Orion monopolies upon them such as Jump drives. However, in return their appetite for Terran consumer goods seemed limitless.
FS Aconit - docked to Tradeliner Coul-Tom Rye
He was shown into the luxuriant office by a couple of Orion mercenaries. And unlike his last visit where he had been treated as a dignitary, this time the uniform earned him a different kind of reception. One that showed the Orions were just as ready to defend themselves.
They had shown him the customary respect of permitting him to remain armed, but the automatic pistol seemed so antiquated in comparison to the sliver weapons the Orions bore. The technological edge that gave the Orions their space superiority extended into their armaments as well as to their consumer goods.
The office was well appointed, various shades of white that at first appeared sterile until his eyes adjusted and he picked up the varying subtleties of the shades. The textures underneath the colours, and he appreciated the complexity behind the décor.
There was no sign of the Tradeliner Captain, and VonGrippen walked around the office to stare into the only window in the chamber, a beautiful and vibrant collection of crystals that glowed and refracted the lights, shimmering and shifting with varying luminosities as an electric current flowed through them.
"It is impolite in human society to stare at someone who is different," The voice chimed from nowhere, and VonGrippen turned his head looking towards the speaker, the only logical source for the voice.
"My apologies Captain," VonGrippen took a polite step back and addressed the crystals, realizing they were alive, "I was unaware of your species."
"Most races are not," The voice responded, "my kind reside in a distant corner of Orion territory and very seldom venture far from home, I am... more adventurous than most. So tell me Admiral, what business does the new Highlord VonGrippen, a French frigate and a collection of children have with the Orion directorate?"
VonGrippen produced his father's bankcard, "I can pay our docking fees, but I am looking to sell the vessel and secure passage for my crew."
"The docking fees are inconsequential, especially for a VonGrippen, your father's accounts are well managed and more than capable of covering such a trivial sum." The crystals glowed and shimmered as the light danced within them, "however the Orion directorate is neutral in the Terran conflict, our purchasing a human vessel, even a prize ship such as yours, may be considered... a partisan act by some. As well, transporting children without proper identity papers is most irregular."
"I assure you that the House government will be grateful for any assistance you render and I am certain that you will be reimbursed for any inconvenience..." VonGrippen started.
"The High House VonGrippen has, on a number of occasions, provoked the Orion Directorate. If I recall the news broadcasts, you were chief amongst the aggressors. This combined with the fact that the High House is still a satellite state," the Captain chose its words with care, "and even if it were not, you do not speak with the authority nor blessing of your government. By all considerations, and acting with good faith towards our trade agreements with Earth, I am afraid that I am going to have to place you and your crew under arrest, seize your vessel and convey you all back to Earth."
"That would be a mistake," VonGrippen said evenly, "I could request asylum on behalf of my crew, which would require an arbitration and..."
"Would ultimately only delay your deportation back to Earth, Admiral," the Captain said reluctantly, "I am sorry to do this, but the trade alliance is important to the Orion Directorate, and you and your crew pose a significant threat to the stability of that agreement." Behind him the door opened on a troop of mercenaries, their weapons drawn and held at the ready, "I beg that you comply and go with them peacefully, Admiral."
VonGrippen drew his pistol slowly; turning it out to one of the guards he surrendered it, allowing them to guide him from the Captain's office under guard.
* * *
Dominic didn't like the feeling of it, something was wrong. The Aconit was docked to the dorsal hatch of the Tradeliner, secured behind a collection of transports and pleasure craft that were hitching rides like limpets on the belly of a great and bloated whale. The mammoth ship charting its passage of trade through the vast emptiness of space.
But so far instead of a warm welcome they had been instructed to wait aboard the frigate while VonGrippen had been summoned to meet with the Orion Captain. It was the kind of departure from the norm that always tipped Dominic off that something was amiss.
He roused the men, securing the main hatch as he ordered them all to arm themselves and prepare for anything. The Kaynin bounding through the ship pulling on their tactical gear and hefting their pulse rifles as they too prepared, sensing the apprehension in the air.
"What's going on?" Lieutenant Roki demanded poking his head out of his cabin, his hair askew and his uniform rumpled indicating he'd woken to the noise.
Lieutenant Worth didn't have time to deal with him, so simply snarled for him to get the hell out of his way as he shifted his assault rifle to his other hand and made for the bridge, clambering up the short ladder and drawing to a halt resting a hand on the main console.
"Sir all decks cleared for action," The Kaynin pilot reported, licking his long incisors as he ran his hands across the consoles, flicking switches and beginning pre-flight.
"What's your name soldier?" Dominic inquired looking over the weapons console, trying to remember his NATO training and the standard weapons configurations.
"We're all called old Roman names," The Kaynin smiled as he crossed to the console and showed Dominic the appropriate controls to allow weapons free and to access the targeting computers, "ironically Mother named me Octavius because I was eighth in her litter. Typically the French just addressed us by the generic 'Trooper'."
"Octavius will do," Dominic smiled tightly as he activate the radar systems and began to punch targeting information into the computer, ready to establish a lock at a touch of a button, "give me the comm headset," he gestured as Octavius handed it over to him.
He pulled it on and dialled it in to the STOAT's frequency, flying escort to the Tradeliner awaiting the all clear before it attempted to land, "Aconit to Victor-Two-Niner, respond over."
"Victor-Two-Nine, Aconit, go ahead." Ryder's voice sounded tired, she was alone on the other ship and had been flying almost constantly since leaving Phobos, the auto-pilot afforded her a little sleep, but even that was limited given their circumstances.
"I'm suspecting an Orion double cross," Dominic said as he checked the Tradeliner's course, cursing when he saw that it was angling away from Mars and making directly back towards Earth, confirming his suspicions.
"What do you want to do LT?" Ryder inquired through the comm.
Dominic looked thoughtful as he stared out across the upper hull of the Tradeliner, out towards the collection of ships also docked to the various cargo pods along the bulk of the Tradeliner. Hundreds of access points that wouldn't be as guarded as the hatch that separated the Aconit from the Tradeliner. And the frigate had a collection of EVA suits.
"Hold formation Victor-Two-Niner, may need you to cover our evac, for now sit tight and don't let the Orions bully you into anything dumb," Dominic released the transmit and nudged Octavius, "hey any of your lot trained in EVA combat?"
Octavius nodded, "We have a full squad trained in EVA and EVA demolitions, you have an idea, sir?"
"Kinda, and it's a good one too," he grinned his goatee twitching as his eyes flashed dangerously.
* * *
"Lieutenant, where is Admiral VonGrippen?" Markus demanded standing between Dominic and the upper hatch.
Dominic glanced at the insistent young man as he pulled on the gloves to his armoured spacesuit, around him a couple of his men and a squad of Kaynin were doing the same. Arming themselves with EVA pulse rifles, the only weapons they had that would work in a vacuum.
"The Orions have grabbed VG, we're going to go get him back," Dominic stamped into his boots as he got up, "Before they turn all of us over to the authorities back on Earth. And considering the penalty for treason in the UK is death, yeah not a pleasant thought."
"There must be something I can do to assist you," Markus folded his arms, "anything."
"Yeah, know anything about EVA combat and how to fire a pulse rifle in zero-G?" Dominic answered sarcastically.
"Yes to all of them," Markus responded, calmly, "in fact spacial awareness was one of the key enhancements a GN-2 has over humanity. I adapt faster to different environments than you do, and I am rated as an Expert marksman."
"Right," Dominic murmured reluctantly, "Someone should stay here..."
"My sister is onboard, and I'd better serve you at your side than trapped aboard this ship." He opened a side locker and began to pull out a space suit, "plus you need every hand you can get for this type of operation."
Dominic climbed aboard the elevator airlock, waiting patiently while the GN-2 pulled on the space suit, hurrying aboard as they clipped their helmets on and checked their weapons, Dominic punching the controls that lifted the elevator up into the overhead airlock, cycling through the change in pressure as the outer hatch opened up on the vastness of space.
Dominic's mind reeled as he instinctively looked up into the vastness, realizing how impossibly small he was in one single moment.
"Eye's on the hull," Markus encouraged to the soldiers who were experiencing their fist taste of what it meant to be in space. How exposed they were, how insignificant, and how large starships were in comparison. Dominic pressed his eyes shut and opened them again focusing on the horizon line of the frigate and the Tradeliner beyond it.
"Move out," Dominic ordered, feeling the pull of the magnetic harnesses that would keep them grounded to the metal alloys of the ship hulls, pressing onwards across the flat grey and white hull plates and windows of the cargo pod.
* * *
"And that makes me the ranking officer," Roki snapped standing on the frigate's bridge, watching Dominic and his assault team tramping across the upper hull through the observation windows.
"I am sorry sir, but you aren't a line officer," the annoying Kaynin pilot quirked as he continued to work on his console, keeping an eye on the Radarscopes.
"No, however I am the only officer aboard this ship at this time!" Roki snapped, folding his arms as he walked towards the Captain's chair and sat down, "I am assuming command."
"Lieutenant Worth..." Octavius began.
"Is my subordinate as well," Roki's eyes blazed as he turned, "the only one on this ship who outranks me is Admiral VonGrippen and he isn't here now is he? So in his absence I'm in charge, clear Trooper?"
Octavius rolled his eyes and went back to work, "as you wish Lieutenant, do you have any orders at this time?"
Roki hesitated, "I... no carry on Trooper." He settled into the chair and brushed the arms possessively as he settled in, not exactly certain what he was supposed to do next.
"As you wish, sir," Octavius responded moving back to what he had been doing originally, ignoring the Intelligence Officer, scratching behind his ear as he sensed the pretty young woman, Katherine, returning to the bridge.
"Is there still no word of the Admiral?" She inquired entering the bridge.
Roki turned in his seat and leered a moment, looking her up and down as he stood, "Katherine, no there's no word yet, but Lieutenant Worth is currently..."
"Thank you Lieutenant," Katherine replied with a light smile walking towards the windows watching as the EVA team began to descend around the bow of the frigate moving towards the Tradeliner's hull, "will they be all right out there?"
"They'll be fine," Roki leaned on the bulkhead beside her, glancing down appreciatively again before smiling into her eyes, "the question is are you okay? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"
Katherine picked up on Roki's tone and frowned at him, "I'll be fine, thank you Lieutenant," she drew her arms tightly about her as she walked away from him. Leaving Roki to smile as he considered her delicate curves as she moved, appreciating the feminine form once more.
* * *
It was a unique one-ness with the universe. Although true understanding eluded him, he perceived pieces and fragments of things around him. He could feel how the ship about him supported his life, and how in turn the people aboard it repaired and maintained its functions. A realization of symbiosis that extended to all things, everything interacted with everything else and so in turn things occurred.
He finally understood why his attempts at telepathy had failed, not due to the inability to read the thoughts, he could sense the people around him even though that fluctuated and faded like waves touching upon his awareness. But their thoughts could only be interpreted by the individual having them, the only base commonality between human beings were emotions. Thoughts, through some divine quirk of fate, were doomed to the privacy of the mind that concocted them.
He was aware of the worry flowing through the ship. The Kaynin, based off of human DNA combined with canine, shared the same emotional patterns as human beings, they became a mirror to the worry, magnifying it through their numbers. Rikard tucked the Peligian crystal into his pocket as he walked forward, stopping Katherine as she came out of the bridge.
"What's happening?" He asked, glancing past her and up to where Roki was watching them from the doorway, there was no hiding the waves of lust coming from the man as he watched Katherine.
She sensed Rikard's sudden revulsion, and frowned as if she were trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Rikard smiled and smothered his emotional response, "Why are we cleared for action?" He pressed her.
"The Orions have arrested Admiral VonGrippen. Lieutenant Worth believes they are planning to seize this ship and return us to Earth. He and Markus have... gone to get VonGrippen back."
"Why not simply cast off?" Rikard murmured folding his arms, biting his lip and realizing that thought would never have occurred to Markus, loyalty had been an important part of the GN-2 project and VonGrippen had risked his life to rescue them, so naturally Markus would be willing to do the same.
However the Tradeliner was guarded by the best mercenaries money could buy, and unlike the French guards on Phobos, they would be well armed and more than capable of dealing with a few soldiers, Kaynin and one young man. They would be killed, or arrested and then it was only a matter of time until they breached the frigate's hatch, and carted them all back to Earth in chains, returned to who ever offered the biggest reward.
Rikard stalked away, returning back to the sickbay, leaning down upon the black desk and trying to think. If he could slip aboard the Tradeliner he would be able to disappear, however that still left the GN-2s behind. He needed to find a way to give them a chance, even if it was a small one to fulfil their ultimate destiny. Even if that meant sacrificing his own life, or the lives of everyone aboard the Tradeliner.
He sat down in the chair and called up the archive information concerning the Tradeliner they were docked to. Like many of the Tradeliners they were cargo haulers, a string of massive pods connected like a long train behind a large drive unit. Each of the pods were attached by connection couplings which were controlled by computers on the main bridge of the Tradeliner. However, there had to be emergency ejection systems at each pod. The issue remained how to get aboard the Tradeliner.
He turned his head and looked towards the slumbering form upon the bed. Sephradon, her white-blonde hair in disarray as she slept. The weapon that General Michaud had hoped would win him the war would prove a salvation to his children. She possessed a singular destructive force that the Orions would have no idea how to counteract.
He rested a hand on her shoulder, "Sephradon," He called to her gently, "wake up."
The middle-aged eyes slid open as they locked onto his, burning with anger at being disturbed, then softening as she looked about her, sitting up slowly, pulling her legs under her chin.
"We need your help," Rikard said quietly.
"What's the matter Enarbrem?" She said, her voice cracked with age, making her sound like a crone, "you aren't strong enough to do it yourself?"
Rikard paused and realized as in tune as he was with the universe around him, she was equally so. She knew exactly what he had done to himself. He chewed his lip a moment before sighing, "you're... training at Michaud's hands has given you a specific control over your gifts that I do not possess. We are attached..."
"To a Tradeliner, and the Orions are at the main hatch attempting to get inside," Sephradon stood, pulling the white hospital blanket around her shoulders as she wrapped it like a toga about her, "and you wish me to kill them."
"I am asking for your help," Rikard insisted, "to help your brother and sisters so that they never suffer the way you have," he brushed her aged cheek with the back of his hand.
She flinched from his touch, her eyes blazing, "I will do as you ask, but not for them, or for you." She turned and walked, her bare feet padding across the deck towards the door, "be sure they are ready to go."
Rikard hurried through the ship, bursting through the door into the mess hall where the children were sitting in a semi circle around Lance, the colonist teaching them about pop culture using the mess hall monitor and the digital archives of popular movies.
The heads of the young men and women turned to face him curiously as back in the ship an alarm resounded. The sound of tortured metal being rent asunder followed by Orion gunfire and screaming echoed through the frigate.
"Come here Jonah," Rikard beckoned breathlessly, fumbling through his pocket and pulling out the black alien crystal as the bright-eyed child walked over to him.
"What's going on?" Lance demanded getting to his feet and reaching instinctively to where his TAC-vest sat in a pile, pulling his pistol on.
"The Orions are attempting to penetrate the main hatch," Rikard lied, setting the crystal and applying it to Jonah's forehead, "go towards the hatch and run for the Tradeliner," he clapped the boy on the shoulder, "run, once you are aboard, find a place to hide."
He turned again, "Sarah."
Lance blinked as he stepped up to Rikard, "you can't send these kids off alone into the middle of a fire fight..."
Rikard finished with Sarah and motioned for the next child, looking up at Lance's confused face, "Don't meddle in things you don't understand," he snarled, "these children are capable of defending themselves," he applied the next dosage and moved on, sending that child to run after the others.
"You can't seriously be sending..." Lance began as Rikard rounded upon him, lifting his hand he sent the colonist sailing back across the room with a simple thought. Lance crashed to the deck, slamming painfully against the far bulkhead.
There was a yell from a couple of the children, as they drew back away from Rikard, staring at him warily as the eldest boy in the room, Ben rushed to Lance's side and checked him for injuries.
"What have you done?" Ben turned to look accusingly up at Rikard.
Rikard stared dispassionately at the living reminder of his own failures. Always a gentle boy, Ben had been the sickliest of the GN-2s growing up, he had developed an autoimmune disorder as his genetically enhanced immune system had run wild on his organs. But somehow he had survived, but it had given him a sense of compassion that had, on several occasions, brought him trouble when he had refused to participate in the mandatory combat drills all the GN-2s had been required to do.
"I am protecting each of you," Rikard replied, as he motioned for the next girl, who looked torn between Ben and Rikard, but her conditioning won out as she obediently walked towards him and received her dose.
"What are you doing to them?" Ben demanded, his deep brown eyes frowning at the device in Rikard's hands.
"I am inoculating them," Rikard responded, listening back through the ship towards the sounds of alarms, both Terran and Orion now, a cacophony of noise that almost drowned out the gunfire and the occasional scream.
He finished the last of the other children and stared down at Ben, standing between Rikard and Lance. His short black hair scruffily spiked, always so defiant despite the limitations of his illness. Out of all of the children, Ben's autoimmune disease would have made him more resilient to the effects of the bloodroot. But Rikard shrugged simply.
"Make your choice, Benjamin," Rikard smiled coldly, "stay here and die with..." he nudged Lance with the toe of his boot, "or come with me and live."
Ben shook his head; "you think I can't see the blood on your hands? The death that surrounds you? The levels you will go to just to attain what you want?" Ben shook his head pulling his hands tight about his lean frame as he stood, "I will never help you," he bit out.
"What's going on here?" Katherine leaned into the room, her eyes wide when she looked from Rikard standing so menacingly over Ben and the crumpled Lance, her eyes sweeping around the empty room, "where are the children?"
Rikard turned to her, "I have sent them to where they will be safe, now..." he reached out a hand, "come here Katherine..."
"Don't," Ben warned looking up at her.
Katherine felt the wave of worry emanating from Ben, and the dark knot of something deep inside of Rikard and she shook her head slowly, "get away from them."
Rikard shrugged simply sliding the crystal back into his trouser pocket, "your loss Katherine," he looked down at Ben again and shook his head, "I always hated failure." He turned away pulling off the medical lab coat and cast it away, marching past Katherine and into the hall, walking towards the twisted metal hatch. Kaynin and British soldiers rushing forward to fortify it, even though the swath of destruction Sephradon had cut through both sides had all but destroyed any chance of successfully holding the French frigate.
Rikard gestured with a hand, pulling a bayonet from one of the fallen British soldiers, the blade sailing into his hands as he went in search of one last loose end.
He found Roki standing uncertainly beside a hatch, the other GN-1 keeping himself out of the line of fire as he watched for his opportunity to escape.
"Brother," Roki smiled in relief.
Rikard shook his head as he took a hold of Roki's shoulder, "I expected too much of you at times," Rikard murmured as the sounds of the firefight intensified.
"What are you talking about?" Roki asked in confusion, "I've done every..." he gasped as Rikard slid the bayonet between the Lieutenant's ribs, pushing it in deep.
As Roki sank, Rikard lowered him back to the bulkhead, his eyes hard and intense, "I cannot risk what you know, brother." He pulled the knife free and tossed it down the corridor, his hands wiping the hair from Roki's face, "die knowing that you changed the world."
Rikard kissed his brothers forehead as the light went out of his eyes, standing once more and looking towards the hatch, drawing upon his newfound strength, a gift from the lost alien race, the one that had opened the door for Humanity's own transcendence.
* * *
VonGrippen's hands were secured behind his back, standing in the holding cell unable to move more than a few centimetres or even sit down. Forced to stand in place by the cuffs that would deliver a powerful electric jolt to his system if he made any effort to move.
The Orions around him made no effort to interact with him, they played some strange variant of a card game while sitting on the upper step to the holding cell, their weapons always close to their grasp. Ready in the unlikely event that VonGrippen would be able to escape his restraints.
There was a sharp crack from the doors, and both guards jumped to their feet as the heavy blast doors swung open and a pair of British soldiers swept into the chamber, their pulse rifles barking as they felled the two Orion guards. Behind them Dominic marched into the chamber, his own rifle up as he flashed VonGrippen a distinctive 'you owe me' grin.
VonGrippen remained perfectly still, "that was... unexpected."
"Yeah," Dominic replied as Markus hurried across the chamber to release VonGrippen from the cuffs, "damn Orions, they give you a reason?"
"Trade, it's their sole motivation it appears," VonGrippen sighed in relief as the cuffs came free and he rubbed his sore wrists, "How did..." The alarms began to resound, a din that echoed through the Tradeliner.
"That isn't an intruder alarm..." Dominic murmured.
VonGrippen blinked looking up at the lights flashing around the chamber, "it's the Orion emergency alarm, something's happened to..." they felt the deck pitch asgravity shifted, he looked up, "we need to get back to the frigate, now." He scoopedup his great coat, throwing it on as he motioned for his men to go.
The assault team moved out into the halls, Orions rushing past them, not seeming to pay attention to the humans, not when there was a greater crisis. VonGrippen walked across to one of the great domed view ports and looked forward at the blue-green globe that filled the view port, the heat shields on the front of the Tradeliner glowing a bright orange red.
"We're entering atmosphere too steeply," Markus observed, "and too fast, if we don't adjust our trajectory we could skip off of the atmosphere... It'd be like a stone hitting concrete and bouncing."
Dominic pulled out his radio, "Lieutenant Worth calling Aconit, come in?"
There was nothing but static.
VonGrippen knelt and recovered one of the Orion's sliver guns, hefting the machine pistol as he looked at Dominic, "we should get back to the frigate, quickly..." A section of the engine mounts ahead on the Tradeliner pulled free under the pressure of the rushing atmosphere, bouncing back along the length of the ship as it crashed into one of the cargo pods, exploding into debris as it shredded one of the transports on the back of the Tradeliner attempting to get free.
"Aconit to Worth," The radio sputtered, "come in..."
Worth lifted the radio as they sprinted back through the winding corridors of the stricken Tradeliner, "Octavius? Report!"
"One of the GN-2s breached our hatch and boarded the Tradeliner," Octavius sounded breathless, "tore a big hole in our hull as she did it..."
"We can't attempt to make an escape in a ship without an outer hatch," Markus pointed out, "the speed of our re-entry even if we could get free it'd cook everything inside the frigate."
VonGrippen drew up short, staring out of the view port down towards the planet, and looking forward towards the drive section of the Tradeliner, "we need to go forward," he decided.
"Sir?" Dominic inquired, "are you..."
"Mental? Yes mildly," VonGrippen gestured with his pistol, "something happened to the controls of this ship, and, well, they are up there, not back here. Since we can't escape via the frigate, our best chance lies in getting to the controls and figuring out what went wrong."
"And the Orions?" Worth asked, "they aren't going to let us swan into their command centre..."
"That alarm," VonGrippen gestured up to the klaxon blaring, "is the order to abandon ship, there aren't going to be any Orions between us and the Control centre." He took the radio from Dominic, "Octavius, VonGrippen. I need you to round up everyone on the frigate and make for the command pod of the Tradeliner."
"Understood Admiral," Octavius signed off, as VonGrippen motioned them forward as the deck beneath them began to buck violently as the ship continued it's crash towards the surface of the planet below.
Around them pandemonium ensued as passengers and crew boarded lifeboats and escape shuttles, blasting off of the ship as they ejected, screaming out through the atmosphere.
VonGrippen reached one of the main couplings, pausing at the grisly sight of a collection of Orion mercenaries that had been cut to pieces. The weapon, a ceremonial prayer plate from a nearby shrine had been used with a deadly ferocity. It wasn't the attack of a trained killer, but was the mark of sheer rage unleashed.
They advanced cautiously as one of the Kaynin took point, the first through the doors and into the command module. The rest of the assault team moved in behind him, keeping their weapons peeled as diagnostic screens flashed red. Engineering monitors registering the extent of system malfunctions through the ship.
VonGrippen jogged up the stairs, and through one of the connecting corridors into the main Orion command centre. The mark of death all about, Orions slumped across their stations, each struck down by some invisible killer. They'd died violently thrashing, mouths frothing and white blood flowing from their nasal cavities.
"This look anything like Sephradon?" VonGrippen asked, shielding his eyes from the firestorm outside the main viewer, reaching for the controls to close the blast shields and shut out the fiery light.
Dominic shook his head, "not that I saw, sir, she was using anything that wasn't nailed down to tear them apart, I never saw her do anything like this."
"That's not to say she can't," VonGrippen replied pulling one of the Orions out of the chair, unaffected by the grizzly sight about him. He sat and gritted his teeth
looking over the alien controls, glancing up at Dominic, "I don't suppose you know how to read Orion?"
"I know a few choice swear words that may be appropriate," Dominic said setting his rifle down and pointing, "altitude gauge."
"Are you sure?" VonGrippen asked.
"Well considering how fast those symbols are decreasing..." Dominic shrugged, "pretty good guess I'd think."
"Altitude controls would be here then," VonGrippen pointed, pulling on the handle, feeling the ship begin to tug beneath his feet.
"That's them all right," Worth replied looking at the red error messages floating across holographic displays, "however I think that's trying to tell us we're screwed."
The radio warbled, and Dominic lifted it, talking into it quickly as he came back to VonGrippen's shoulder, "Octavius and the frigate crew are almost here, they'll signal once they are aboard..."
There was an audible beep from the master display, as the rear most cargo pod flickered and blew free of the Tradeliner.
"What the hell?" Dominic gestured.
"Safety mechanism," Markus suggested, "we're going to crash and so the Orions have probably set an auto ejection system to begin the moment they hit a specific altitude."
VonGrippen gave up with the altitude controls, leaning over to the navigation console beside him and calling up a display, trying to get an idea of their inevitable destination. They were rocketing earthwards at a phenomenal rate, passing over Mainland China, they were cutting a direct course for Europe, but at the rate of their descent they'd crash somewhere in the continental United States.
He tugged his TAC-link out of his pocket and flipped it open, "Shisak?"
Commander Knight's voice sounded tense, "Admiral, we've been shadowing you..."
"I had a hunch," VonGrippen remarked, walking around the console and looking up towards the ceiling, "any ideas over there?"
"We could attempt a mid air docking, but the variables and the turbulence would make any effort potentially fatal for both ships."
Another warble indicated a second pod was jettisoning just as they began to pass over southern Russia.
The deck vibrated as the ship began a slow roll through the atmosphere, a third pod blasting free as they crossed the Ukraine. VonGrippen stared at the weight and velocity of the escaping cargo pods, wherever they hit they'd do significant damage were it not for the emergency airbrakes that deployed from the pods as they cleared the Tradeliner.
"We could evac back into one of the adjacent pods," Markus suggested seeing what VonGrippen was looking at.
"The time it takes to get into one would wind us somewhere mid-Atlantic, or the Eastern US, neither my first choice of vacation spots," Dominic murmured.
The radio trilled, "Octavius's group have the command pod," Dominic waggled the radio.
VonGrippen rubbed his forehead as he stared across the console in front of him. There had to be something he was missing, some other way of... Pod four jettisoned over France.
"Sir?" Knight inquired through the TAC-link, and VonGrippen glanced at the sensor consoles that were registering the heat signature of the Shisak matching pace with them, the House VonGrippen warship taking a beating from the debris cast off by the Tradeliner.
There had to be something, VonGrippen just had to think.
Jump drives.
VonGrippen looked down at the Alien Nav. Computer beside his seat, flexing his hand as he reached down and tapped a gauge, the drives were fully charged, ready to go, the question was how he could activate the system. He moved to the small keypad, and over to a small touch pad, he tapped it, watching the holographic navigation map springing to life, displaying a red sphere that indicated the range capable with the jump. VonGrippen rotated the image and studied it carefully, looking at the nearest star System, Alpha-Centauri he tapped it, the computer spilling out jump calculations and awaiting his input.
"Commander, I need you to bring the Shisak as close to the Tradeliner as you can," he ordered dropping the TAC-link onto the console.
He turned his head towards Katherine as she struggled to help Lance onto the bridge, carrying him with a dark haired boy that fussed worriedly over Lance's unconscious form. Kaynin and British soldiers taking the upper tiers and holding on.
"I need your help," he called getting out of the pilots seat and gesturing for her to take it, pointing to the jump calculations, "I have..."
Katherine scanned over the mathematical equations, adjusting them as she plugged numbers into the keypad, "it's requesting that I plot the relative position that I wish to exit and showing me where the projected astral bodies in the Centauri system are. I just need to figure out how much room to give..."
The fifth pod blew free, screaming towards the Atlantic, it's airbrakes failing to deploy.
"We're not going to make it," Dominic tapped the altimeter, "if we don't lighten the load we're going to impact on the Eastern Seaboard..."
Markus stiffened and nodded, rushing back towards the stairs, Dominic hurrying after him. But Markus rested a hand on the Lieutenant's chest, "the manual release only requires one of us, and your men need you."
"I can't ask you to do this..." Dominic muttered.
Markus smiled, "I know, go, I'll be fine." He said using his own abilities as he issued an order. Dominic flinched under the weight of the command. And with that Markus disappeared through the hatch, sealing it behind him with a clank.
Dominic shook his head as he rested a hand on the airlock, watching as the sixth and final pod detached from the Tradeliner, falling away as its airbrakes deployed and it shot away at a tremendous rate, spiralling end over end as it curved sharply for the roaring Atlantic Ocean below.
"There," Katherine said leaning back and looking at VonGrippen, "I have it... I think."
VonGrippen nodded as he reached out and clasped the actuator. The Command module of the Tradeliner bursting with a flare of energies as it catapulted into hyperspace, vanishing as behind it the cargo pod slammed into the sea, its emergency beacons activating and sending out its distress call.
Bounced around the inside of the cargo pod, Markus fought to climb through a world that had turned upside down. Orions that hadn't evacuated ship assisting passengers as the Cargo pod slid beneath the waves.
The dark shadows of the emergency lights lit a wolfish face, as Rikard clung to a rail looking across at his greatest creation, his hair askew, but his teeth were bared.
"I made you a promise my lord," he yelled above the noise.
Markus fought his way upwards to the catwalk, "this wasn't a part of the plan Rikard."
Rikard nodded as he drew the dark crystal shard from his pocket, "are you sure it wasn't part of our destiny?" They were both tossed to the deck, as the Cargo pod rolled on the waves of the ocean, Rikard scrambling to his feet and grabbing the front of Markus's shirt, "now is the time."
Markus nodded his head, "then do it. I have a world to save..."
Rikard nodded, "perhaps you should start by saving us first?" He applied the crystal, setting it higher than he had done for any of the others but Sephradon, touching it to his creation's forehead and administering the dose.
* * *
The Orion Tradeliner burst from hyperspace, the dark shadow of the House cruiser shrieking away from the Liner as it banked about sharply, and crossed the bow of the crippled Orion vessel.
VonGrippen sighed as he collapsed into one of the chairs, resting his chin on his hand as he looked about him. Despite its damage, he had control of an Orion starship, more importantly he had seized control of the elusive Jump drive that meant so much to all of them.
"Admiral?" The TAC-link called, and Katherine collected it, handing it to him. Her face remained shell shocked, the adrenaline of trying to survive beginning to wear off as the truth of what had happened began to settle over them all.
VonGrippen heaved a sigh as the blast shields retracted from the observation windows, Orion tactical grids highlighting the shadowy vessel that hung in space across from them. The striking falcon on its hull shining in the light of Centauri's brilliant stars.
"A little assistance should be in order, Commander," VonGrippen stated, folding the TAC-link closed and looking about him at the fellow survivors, "how many did we loose?" he asked quietly.
Dominic shook his head, "it's going to take a little time to figure out." He jerked a thumb behind him, "I'm going to do a head check."
VonGrippen nodded getting out of his chair and crossing to where Lance was lying. Kneeling he looked at his friend in concern, "what happened to him?"
The youth, twenty two or so by VonGrippen's guess, looked at him for a long time, "Rikard attacked him..." he trailed off and took VonGrippen's hand, "you're a good man... don't forget that..."
VonGrippen withdrew his hand, "and you are a little odd." He stood, "Octavius, can you find a suitable docking hatch for the Shisak dropships? We're going to need help over here, and as soon as I'm back aboard my ship, the safer I'll feel."
Katherine picked her way around the debris of the Tradeliner's deck, "what's wrong?" she asked quietly.
"Centauri is American territory," VonGrippen responded, moving her aside as he stepped up to the sensor station, "and given my luck of late, they are probably mustering to find out what happened."
"Is that all there is to your life?" Katherine asked, "war?"
Ben reached out a hand and pulled his sister back towards him, "he is what he is. He has a purpose, you must allow him to be him..."
VonGrippen inclined his head in thanks, "once we are situated aboard the Shisak, I'll begin to relax, for the moment we have greater problems ahead of us." He checked the recharge meter on the jump drives, twenty-four hours until they were set to jump. A day of tangling with the American forces in Centauri, and a day for the Orions to respond to the realization that they had lost one of their Tradeliners.