The battle-cruiser Aeolis glided majestically through the vastness of space. It was a titanic cylinder of glistening black metal, two kilometers long by one hundred fifty meters wide. Ship’s complement: Twelve hundred crewmembers, all proudly bearing the insignias of the Fourth Battle Regiment of Earth. Its mission: To patrol the borders of known space adjacent to the Boras black hole.
On the bridge of the Aeolis, Captain John Dickens was checking the star charts of the sector on the monitor of his command station.
It was Dickens’ first tour of duty as captain. A very late tour at that. Most officers get their commands by their late thirty’s... Dickens was forty-nine.
Truth be told, it wasn’t his fault. After all, he was no asskisser like most of his colleagues. That, added to the fact that he never obeyed an order blindly, didn’t make him exactly popular among his superiors in the military government.
A government taken by force a decade earlier, which since then had been ruling its outer space colonies with an iron hand. Such martial policy also nourished a permanent state of tension with the neighboring alien civilizations.
With the collapse of Earth’s economy, Dickens’ wife and daughter depended on him for housing, food, and basic comfort, which was a lot more than most people had. Weren’t for that, and the long-awaited dream of commanding his own ship, he would’ve sent it all to hell long ago.
The Aeolis’ first officer, Commander Luanna Godoy, however, was a different kind of officer. Portuguese by birth, twenty- eight years old, inflexible as a drill sergeant. She supported the cue in 2133 without reservations. She was xenophobic with all aliens, intolerant with the colonists and unforgiving with insurrectionists. In other words, she was the model of the perfect soldier.
Dickens would never see her as a friend, that’s for sure. He trusted her abilities as a first officer in getting the job done but that was it.
Ensign Biko Mumbata was running his fingers by the panels on the security station. His mind was focused on his latest conquests, two ladies he met during his shore leave on Mars. No problem with that, except for the fact that the two women were officers’ wives. That could cost him his career, but when you’re twenty-one you don’t think with your head, at least not with the one on the top of your shoulders.
All of a sudden, the proximity alert brought Mumbata back to the real world. “Captain, I have a blip on the long-range sensors, a hundred thousand miles from the port bow,” he said.
Godoy joined Mumbata at his station. “Is it a ship or space matter?”
“Definitely a ship,” the brisk ensign replied. “Design: Unknown.”
Dickens tried to keep a calm yet firm tone of voice. “Heading and speed?”
“She’s coming straight at us,” Mumbata said, running his eyes by the sensor readings. “At three-quarter light speed... and slowing.”
“Transfer tactical schematics to my console,” Dickens ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
A transparent crystal screen raised from Dickens’ console displaying a 3D image of the approaching vessel.
Dickens had never seen a vessel like that. Even the most exotic alien configurations had a discernible logical pattern, but that ship looked like the manifestation of a madman’s nightmare. It was a deformed brute chunk, with absolutely no distinction from head to stern. The hull wasn’t made of metal, but some sort of secretion which appearance and color could only be described as solidified vomit. It was truly disgusting.
Dickens felt something about that ship, something far worse than disgust. “Activate force field. Energize weapons grid.”
The bridge crew promptly complied. Godoy addressed the rest of the crew by the intercom. “All hands, battle stations. Repeat, all hands, battle stations. This is no drill.”
The six particle cannon towers of the Aeolis were engaged and aimed at the approaching vessel. Its twelve assault guns and six missile launchers followed next.
“Open all frequencies,” Dickens ordered to the beautiful communications officer, Lieutenant Anita Cruz. The young officer acknowledged to her captain. “All frequencies opened, sir.”
Dickens hardened his voice. “This is the Earth battle-cruiser Aeolis to unidentified ship. You are entering Terran territory without permission. Halt and identify yourselves. Acknowledge.”
After a few seconds, Dickens turned to Cruz. “No answer, sir,” the lieutenant said. Dickens insisted. “Unidentified ship, this is your final warning. Halt and identify yourselves or you will be destroyed. Acknowledge.”
“Still no answer, Captain,” Cruz said, after a few more seconds.
“Position?” Godoy asked Mumbata.
“Thirty thousand miles. Speed now constant at half light speed,” the ensign replied.
For optimum firing range, the Aeolis required a target to be at least six thousand miles away. That was pretty good for space combat with any of the known species. And that’s what worried Dickens the most. What if this unknown ship had a firing range superior than his own? “Accelerate to three- quarter light speed in attack vector,” he ordered.
“Yes, captain,” the helmsman responded.
Lieutenant Yuri Borsov rushed into the bridge, still buttoning his uniform. “Master Pilot Borsov, reporting for duty, sir.”
“I’m glad you could find the time to join us, Lieutenant,” Dickens said with a fierce look at the sleepy officer. Inside, however, he was striving not to laugh. He was truly pleased he could count on his best pilot, and friend, in such a potentially dangerous situation. “Take the helm, and try to stay awake, please.”
Borsov relieved the helmsman. “As my papa used to say, sir: Awake or asleep--”
“Eyes open you must keep,” Dickens finished the sentence with a smile on his face. “I know.”
Godoy twisted her nose. It was well- known that she didn’t approve of such public fraternization amongst officers, specially of a captain and his crew. In her opinion, such behavior was almost in defiance of military conduct. It was nothing she could use to justify a court martial, but she could always hope. “Keep steady on attack vector, Master Pilot.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Borsov answered in a somewhat cynical tone.
The gigantic metal behemoth that was the Aeolis quickly approached the bizarre alien ship. Its size was four times smaller than the Aeolis.
* * *
On tower three of the Aeolis, Chief Percival Keaton was watching closely the sensor readings on his console. That without taking his eyes off his two junior officers, who helped him man the two particle cannons of the tower, ensigns Hikaru Koyama and Daniel Ortega.
Keaton was a career officer of the old school, commended for bravery in the Battle of Mars and on the Campaign of Sirius 4. He was a heavy man, loveable, and always willing to drink a good glass of beer.
He was used to not knowing the reason why he would have to blow some ship straight to hell. And neither he cared. Like any good soldier, Keaton left all the thinking for his superiors. His function was simply to get the job done. A job he was very good at. “Distance from target?” the chief asked.
Koyama and Ortega knew that Keaton could read the distance on his console just as they did. The question was only intended to get them focused on their jobs. “Fifteen thousand miles,” Koyama said with his eyes on the marker. “Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen--”
* * *
Back on the bridge, Ensign Mumbata was the one keeping the countdown. “Twelve, eleven, ten--”
“Attention all weapons,” Godoy spoke on the intercom while checking the ship’s status on her monitor. “Forward towers, stand-by to commence firing.”
“Eight, seven, six thousand miles!” Mumbata continued. Dickens took a deep breath. “Towers one to three, fir--”
Mumbata interrupted him, experiencing a mix of surprise and fear. “ENERGY SPIKE!”
Borsov couldn’t believe his eyes. “What the hell is that?!”
From the deformed hull of the alien ship, two intense yellow beams of energy singed the six thousand miles of space between the two ships in less than a second.
The powerful energy mass hit the Aeolis’ force field, which sparkled in a cascade of blue and yellow lights surrounding the battle-cruiser.
But that was just a brief relief for Dickens and his crew. It only took about five seconds for the yellow beams to overtake the force field.
As the beams started cutting through the force field, the bridge of the Aeolis was filled with an increasing heat that set everything on fire.
With his arms raised in a reflexive defense position, Dickens was consumed by the blazing hell. Godoy died in a horrifying scream of agony. Borsov and Mumbata couldn’t do even that. Their bodies, along with everything else on the bridge, were incinerated as the energy beam impaled the once impressive warship.
The black hull of the Aeolis burst outwards as it exploded in an immense ball of fire. Twelve hundred men and women died in the wink of an eye. As it dissipated through space, only a faint cloud of gas and debris remained as evidence of the battle- cruiser’s existence.
* * *
The battle-cruiser Aeolis glided majestically through the vastness of space. It was two kilometers long by one hundred fifty meters wide. Its twelve hundred crewmembers bearing the insignias of the Fourth Battle Regiment of Earth. Its mission: To patrol the borders of known space adjacent to the Boras black hole.
On tower three, Chief Percival Keaton and his assistants, Daniel Ortega and Hikaru Koyama, were sitting on the ammunition cases in a friendly poker game. It was kind of a tradition for the three men, who most of the time didn’t have much else to do during their long vigils at the weapons control.
Of course gambling wasn’t allowed aboard Earth military vessels. So, instead of using money during the games, they used spare computer chips or something in the like just to keep score. Nobody needed to know that, by the end of the week, when they got their paychecks, they would do the reckoning.
Keaton had a pair of sevens and one of jacks. He studied his assistants’ poker faces carefully.
Ortega was constantly rearranging the cards in his hand, a nervous tick that never revealed if his situation was good or bad. Koyama, on the other hand, was usually an open book. They could always tell when he was bluffing. They used to say he didn’t have a ‘poker face’ but a ‘bluff face’ instead.
Keaton threw two chips over the improvised table. “I open with two.”
“Here’s your two”, Koyama said covering Keaton’s bet. “And six more.”
“Fold,” Ortega said.
Keaton and Koyama closely studied each other. The chief was counting on Koyama’s bluff to fill his pockets. “Okay, there goes eight. And ten more.”
Ortega was thrilled. The tension between the other two was oppressive. Their exchange of fierce looks reminded him of the legendary duels of the Wild West.
Keaton didn’t believe Koyama could top his bet. He would most certainly fold. To his surprise, however, Koyama betted the rest of his chips. Not being enough, he took off his wristwatch and added it to the pile of chips. “I have to see what you got,” he said to Keaton.
With anxiety in his voice, Keaton showed him his hand. “Two pairs, kid.”
Koyama’s expression of awe made Keaton smile. He leaned over the table, stretching his arms around the chips, collecting the spoils of his victory. At that moment, Koyama laid down his cards... Keaton couldn’t believe it!
“Straight flash,” Koyama yelled, victorious as he collected the prize.
Keaton was ready to jettison his young assistant through the nearest airlock, for deceiving him with a fake ‘bluff face’, when the alarm sounded, followed by Godoy’s voice on the intercom. “All hands, battle stations. Repeat, all hands, battle stations. This is no drill.”
Promptly, Keaton and his two junior officers jumped to their stations. While Ortega and Koyama activated the cannons’ particle generators, Keaton linked the targeting computer to the sensor readings output.
They locked and loaded the cannons on tower three with outstanding efficiency. The other five towers followed close by, added by the twelve assault guns and six missile launchers.
Keaton tracked the alien vessel on his monitor and locked on it. “It’s only one bandit. Design: Unknown.”
Koyama and Ortega watched their monitors. They felt a mix of astonishment and apprehension as they saw the shape of the bizarre ship.
As usual, Ortega couldn’t remain silent. “What the hell do you think that is?” he asked Koyama.
“That’s none of your business, Ensign. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes on the consoles”, Keaton reprehended him.
“Aye, sir!” Ortega replied, embarrassed.
Seconds, that seemed like hours, ran by in a tomb-like silence.
Suddenly, the stillness was disrupted by the acceleration of the Aeolis’ linear propulsion. Its powerful yet smooth sound echoing through the metal walls.
That was all a veteran like Keaton needed to know they were about to engage the alien vessel. If not, the battle-cruiser would have either stood down or engaged the hyper-engines to jump out of there. He knew they would accelerate only to approach the enemy and, once reached optimum firing range, use the particle cannons. It would be hell to pay.
When the time was right, he would be the first to pull the trigger, releasing the tremendous power of the his cannons, sending who knows how many creatures aboard the other ship to their early deaths. That was his job: To kill. A job he did very well... Very well indeed. "Distance from target?"
Koyama and Ortega knew quite well that Keaton could read the distance on his console just as they did. The question was only intended to get their minds focused on the job. “Fifteen thousand miles,” Koyama said with his eyes on the marker. “Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen--”
At that very moment, Keaton was horrified with the image on his monitor. The alien ship had opened fire at a distance of TEN THOUSAND MILES! That was inconceivable! Never in his life, Keaton had seen any vessel that had a firing range that were even close to the six-mile mark of Earth battle-cruisers.
In a matter of milliseconds, FIVE THIN yellow beams of energy effortlessly broke through the Aeolis’ force field, impaling its gigantic hull from head to stern.
Violent series of explosions were heard all over the ship. Keaton and his men found themselves thrown to the floor as the Aeolis suffered its last and more violent explosion, which brought the power down.
Keaton could barely discern the silhouettes of his assistants in the overwhelming darkness. If the emergency power didn’t go on-line, it would mean no life support nor escape pod launchers. In other words, it would be the end.
Suddenly, the emergency lights went on, renewing their hope. The Aeolis should have still a couple of hours left of life support. That would be more than enough time for the crew to abandon ship... that if the aliens didn’t finish them first.
* * *
On the bridge, it was a scene of pure chaos, with debris and corpses scattered all around. Godoy slowly got up. There was blood dripping on the floor coming from a large cut on her forehead. “Orders, Captain?”
She struggled against the dizziness and the persistent humming on her ears as she turned to the captain’s station. “Captain-”
One of the metal plates had fallen from the ceiling, hitting Dickens on the head, burying most of his dead body underneath it.
Godoy took a look around, trying to see through the smoke exhaling from several flaming consoles. She cursed as she saw no movement anywhere. “Is anyone still alive?”
A bruised hand raised from behind the helm, trying to grab something to help getting up... It was Borsov. His face and arms were covered with lacerations. “I still am,” he said in a troubled voice. “I think.”
“Is your station operational?” Godoy asked. “Do we still have any maneuverability?”
Borsov ran his fingers through the console, enabling his monitor to display a systems diagnosis. “Helm station barely operational. Maneuverability: Zero,” he said in a cold, fatalistic tone typical of his Russian heritage. “Engines are off-line. Weapons and force field systems damaged beyond repair. Communication is down. Sensors are at twenty-two percent and dropping.”
“So it comes to this,” Godoy said. The mighty Aeolis had become nothing more than a pile of junk drifting dead in space. “Position of enemy vessel?”
“Holding still at ten thousand miles from our starboard bow.”
“Intercom?”
“Still operational on decks one through eight.”
There were six more decks below that, where almost a third of the crew was stationed. Godoy could only hope that they could get to the escape pods.
She spoke on the intercom. “This is Commander Godoy. All hands, abandon ship. Repeat. All hands, abandon ship!”
“Commander, what if the enemy decide to use our escape pods to practice their target?”
“We can only hope that they’re more merciful than we would be in their place, Lieutenant,” Godoy replied, remembering the fleet’s general order six, article thirty-eight. It clearly stated that when in war no prisoners should be made, except in cases of extreme necessity of information gathering. After which, if the prisoner survived the torture, he or she would be put to death.
The proximity alert sounded. Although severely damaged, the short-range sensors were still operational. Borsov felt a chill in his spine as he checked the monitor. “Oh, hell...”
“What?!” Godoy asked, afflicted.
From the hull of the bizarre ship, three smaller deformed chunks, made of the same vomit-like material, were launched. They headed for the Aeolis.
Borsov noticed that the incoming objets didn’t move too fast, which indicated they weren’t weapons. He realized those chunks could only mean one thing: “Incoming boarding parties!”
* * *
Keaton left tower three followed by Ortega and Koyama. They ran down the main aisle on deck two, heading for the nearest escape pod, as ordered by the bridge.
As they turned a corner, a heavy thump echoed through the entire ship’s structure. “Another explosion?” Ortega asked.
Keaton halted pensive. “No... this one was different. COME!” he commanded the two ensigns as he ran back whence they came.
Ortega was stunned. “Sir, where are you going?!”
“The nearest escape pods are that way,” Koyama screamed, pointing at the opposite direction.
“I said COME, dammit!” Keaton ordered harshly. Puzzled, Ortega and Koyama followed the veteran chief.
* * *
On the bridge, Godoy and Borsov realized that the aliens were very similar to humans after all. They witnessed in horror as the alien mother ship shot down every and each escape pod jettisoned from the Aeolis. To make things worse, the intercom went down. Godoy had no way to prevent the rest of the crew from heading for certain death as they were following her evacuation order.
The alien boarding shuttles had strategically attached themselves to the Aeolis’ hull: One to the bow; the second near the bridge; and the third one to the stern.
Godoy couldn’t allow them to take the ship and have access to its technology and the military secrets stored in the main computer. Her final duty was clear, to prevent the battle-cruiser from falling into the hands of the enemy, which left her with only one alternative. “We must engage the auto-destruct mechanism.”
Borsov got tenser. But he knew she was right. “It’s a five-minute countdown with a two-minute window to abort it.”
“I’m aware of that,” Godoy replied, determined. “Since we don’t know if they have some technology capable of stopping the countdown, we’ll have to make sure they don’t take the bridge.”
Although Borsov didn’t like his first officer one damn bit, he had to admit she was a tough mother. “We’ll need guns.” He went to the bodies of the two marines who had been guarding the bridge. He got their blast- guns, handing one to Godoy as she was already activating the auto-destruct mechanism. She grabbed one of her identification tags and inserted in the console. Borsov did the same.
Suddenly, they heard heavy footsteps approaching the bridge. Borsov unlocked his gun. “Hurry.”
Godoy quickly entered her ten-digit code in the console, then took strategic position behind a pile of debris. Borsov started entering his own code. The footsteps nearer.
* * *
Keaton, Koyama and Ortega left the starboard arsenal on deck two. Each handling an assault rifle.
Koyama was the most worried. “What’s going on, sir?”
Keaton turned to them in a dark tone. “That thump was of something hitting the hull. It can only mean that we’re being boarded.”
Ortega was alarmed. “But we’re technicians, not marines.”
“We’re soldiers, Ensign. That’s what we are,” Keaton replied.
“Soldiers follow orders, sir,” Koyama contested. “And we were ordered to abandon the ship.”
Keaton stared at the young ensign with fire in his eyes, a fire so intense that scared both junior officers even more than their current situation. “I’d never allow MY ship to fall into enemy hands. Never!”
Ortega still tried to object. “But--”
Keaton interrupted him. “I’ll take full responsibility.” His fierce expression discouraged any further remarks from the other two. “Now, let’s go.”
“Where to, sir?” Koyama asked.
“Our first priority is to reach the main computer. If we destroy it, all classified information will be lost, so there won’t be much these bastards can get.” Keaton unlocked his rifle and proceeded resolute down the aisle. Ortega and Koyama reluctantly followed him.
* * *
Back on the bridge, Borsov was almost done inserting his code in the computer when a yellow sphere of energy burned through his right shoulder, disintegrating his arm and a part of his torso. He fell over the console before he was able to finish the task.
Godoy felt a burst of fear racing through her body. For with Borsov dead, all hope had been lost.
Through the smoke, Godoy saw three humanoid silhouettes entering the bridge, with several more seeming to follow. She was surprised. Given the aspect of the alien vessel, she was expecting creatures equally bizarre.
They worn full black uniforms, with gloves and boots. Their heads hidden under sinister shining black helmets, which prevented Godoy from seeing their true appearance. They were armed with smoothly designed blast guns. Their elegant look was so contradictory to their ship that one could say they were alien to each other.
Godoy knew it was a lost cause, but she figured that if she had to die she would take some company with her. She opened fire.
The blue enveloping energy plasma shot from her gun knocked two of the intruders down. The remaining one fired back at her with a spread of yellow plasma spheres that exploded as they hit Godoy’s cover. She was trapped, powerless to save her ship. A dozen more enemies took position at the entrance, ready to put an end to her torment.
At that very moment, her attacker was enveloped in a shot of blue plasma. She looked behind and found Borsov, gun in hand, barely alive, gathering the few strength he had left. He knelt down over the console and entered the rest of his code. The auto- destruct warning alerts started flashing on all monitors still operational, showing the five- minute countdown.
Borsov was disintegrated by several shots from the enemy platoon. The blunt of the shots provoked an explosion on the console that totally wrecked the auto-destruct mechanism. Now Godoy knew that the countdown could not be stopped.
Her only consolation was to know that she did her duty. Filling her lungs with air, she jumped from behind her cover, engaging the enemies and meeting death like she always wanted to... In a blaze of glory.
* * *
Keaton and his men were heading toward the emergency stairs, their only chance to get to deck five, where the main computer was located. At that moment, they were surprised by the auto-destruct countdown displayed on the aisle monitors.
Keaton got startled. His beloved ship was doomed... Koyama and Ortega, on the other hand, were quite relieved. After all, they could finally head for the escape pods and get away from that hell.
Robbed of his heroic intents, Keaton was ready to lead his men to the closest escape pod when a yellow sphere flew through his chest, leaving a big cauterized hole in his torso.
Keaton’s body fell on the hot floor as half a dozen intruders showed up, firing at them from the end of the aisle. The two ensigns returned fire.
The powerful discharges from their rifles disintegrated three of the attackers, burning the wall behind them. The remaining intruders advanced in a suicidal stampede, despite Koyama and Ortega’s constant firing.
One of the yellow spheres flew close to Ortega’s left thy. Although not hitting him directly, its heat burned Ortega’s leg causing him intense pain. He fell in agony to the floor, his rifle slipping away from his hand.
Koyama took down two more intruders before he was fatally hit by two enemy discharges.
Ortega experienced the horror of staring at the dead eyes of his fallen comrade. Two pairs of boots appeared beside him.
One of the intruders lifted Ortega by his neck with only one hand, pressing him against a burnt wall. The steel-like fingers of the alien began to squeeze his throat, slowly.
The fierce intruder was bound to suffocate him to death as he moved his helmeted head closer to Ortega’s face. The words spoken by the alien could only be described as an insect-like buzz. The ensign could feel the stench of rotten meat coming from tiny holes on the helmet, placed where the mouth should be.
Ortega felt the life fading away from his body. On the corner of his eye, he glimpsed at one of the monitors, realizing there were only twelve seconds left before the ship’s auto-destruction.
Ortega smiled at his assailant, glad that the bastard would die with him. As his neck was broken, the countdown reached zero.
The Aeolis exploded in a gigantic ball of fire, taking the three enemy shuttles with it, vaporized. The ignition of the expelled gases made it look like a small sun.
Slowly, the bright light started fading away, until all there was left was a gray cloud of debris drifting alone in the coldness of space.
* * *
The battle-cruiser Aeolis glided majestically through the vastness of