“Twelve alien ships are forming up around the carrier. Their weapons are fully-powered and their shields are up,”
“Understood,” Aaen quipped. “Keep an eye on ‘em,”
“Aye, sir—hold on! The alien ships are moving! Looks like they’re heading out of the solar system,”
“Wilson?” Smith asked directly.
“Calculating. . . Navigational readings suggest they’re on a direct heading to a sector of space we have little information about—between Union, Alnilam, and Ardosan space—roughly six thousand light years from where we launched from New Horizon,”
“Connors! Can you see if you can tap into the alien carrier’s main computer core and download as much information as you can about them?”
“I’ll see what I can do,”
“Very good,”
Wilson snapped, “We will exit the solar system with the alien convoy in one minute,”
“Acknowledged,” Smith declared directly.
“The interstellar communications interference from the solar system is getting thinner as we get closer to the edge of the system,” Hayes announced. “I’ll be able to get a mission update as soon as we’re clear!”
“—Ten seconds!” Wilson announced. “It’s getting harder to keep up with that carrier! Their engines are faster than ours,”
“Auxilary and tertiary power to the sublight engines!” Aaen commanded.
“Aye!” Connors acknowledged. The sublight engines were going to heat up faster by doing so. These engines are more efficient than what Odyssey was originally built with and was using diverted power more efficiently than before. . .
The alien escorts suddenly and rapidly drew closer to the carrier ship as the asteroids seemingly formed a tunnel-like formation around the convoy. The bridge shuddered abruptly for several seconds as the convoy soared through the asteroid belt in five seconds. Immediately, the stars were visible.
Aaen would be interested in learning more about what had just happened later but moved that curiosity into the back of his mind for the moment as he eyed the convoy shifting course almost radically to starboard and then rapidly accelerated.
“—Increasing to translight speed!” Wilson declared, watching the speed meters on his computer station suddenly rapidly spike.
“Everyone, HOLD ON!” Aaen commanded, gripping his armrests; the rest of the crew matched his actions for the next ten seconds as the stars seemingly blurred by and then disappeared amid a similar and violent storm-like effect.
The tremors in the deck calmed. Ten seconds later, Hayes computer screen flashed thrice.
“Report,” Smith demanded.
“We got a new message from New Horizon,” Hayes accessed the message and read it as fast as comprehension enabled, “Captain, we’ve got new mission orders! A General Hound is hailing us on Union Priority Frequency-Alpha, from USSC. . .Aurora, on a secure channel,”
Aurora? Aaen wondered in silence. That ship name was completely unfamiliar to him; this unfamiliarity felt like a cold chill down his spine as he commanded, “Put the Admiral on speakers,”
“On-speakers,”
“This is Captain Aaen Winter, USSC Odyssey,”
“Captain, this is General Hound. The extraterrestrial space carrier vehicle you are in pursuit of is carrying a rare, highly unstable, multi-purpose chemical element we have reason to believe is going to be sold to a third-party. Intelligence sources indicate this third party has intentions to weaponize this element and use it against The Union. The third party has been identified as an extraterrestrial black market weapons dealer named Crestax, whose homeworld is one-thousand-light-years from Earth,” a palm-sized image of the alien appeared in the center of the viewscreen and then quickly moved to the right as biographical data appeared below the image. The alien appeared as a scaly, grizzly-looking humanoid with a more pointed face. Judging by the look on the subject’s face, Aaen had no hard time believing this individual had a history with The Union. “Crestax was last known to be traveling through space on a modified scout ship he commandeered some years ago from a party that decided to back out of a deal that went sideways. If the refined Olyphium gets into Crestax’ hands, intelligence reports he has the means of turning it into a chemical weapon that could be used to permanently damage the atmospheres of any populated planet the weapons are used against. The effects on the populations of any such planets would be nearly devastating. That will not be allowed to happen. Your orders are to pursue the alien carrier ship to its destination and prevent the sale of the refined Olyphium. I know you’re out-numbered and out-gunned, captain, which is why we are sending the USSC Aurora as support. Further to follow. Hound. Out.”
“Understood and acknowledged, Admiral,” Aaen responded as the line closed. The image and biographical data disappeared.
“What’s your plan, sir?” Smith asked Aaen subtly.
“Weapons’ status?” Aaen asked Sandberg.
Sandburg scanned the data on his screen, nodded subtly and then directly responded, “All weapons are fully armed and standing by,”
“Commander Smith!” Jorgensen called from the back of the bridge, “The upgrade on the cannons is finished! I’m nearly done upgrading the torpedoes and torpedo launchers!”
“Prepare for a multi-vector tactical assault—attack pattern Alpha-One,” Aaen commanded.
“We’re going to shoot first and ask questions later?” Smith asked.
“I’m going to disable that carrier so they can’t transfer the Olyphium. I’m thinking Aurora will take care of those escort ships. Computer: information about USSC Aurora?”
A low series of tones filled the bridge and then the computer responded, “Unable to provide requested information. The requested information is classified.”
Aaen wondered, why is a ship whose finer details are classified is being sent to provide assistance on this mission?—‘WHY?’ also crossed his mind, but he kept to himself for the moment, noting Smith was looking at him with a confused look at the computer’s response to his order. Why are its details classified?. . . Aaen suspected the entire crew would find out soon enough and dismissed the computer’s response—
“Sandberg, begin tactical scans of that carrier. Try to see if you can find any vulnerabilities we might be able to exploit.” Aaen commanded.
“Yes, sir,” and the work began immediately.
“Any sign we’ve been detected?” Aaen asked.
Three seconds later, Jones replied, “None,”
“I’m having a heck of a time keeping up with that carrier. . . We’re barely staying inside of the carrier’s translight bubble and above the carrier’s hull.”
“Steady as she goes,” Aaen said, trying to be assuring, “You’ve got this, Lieutenant,”
“Thank you, sir,” Wilson wiped the sweat off of his forehead with his left sleeve, continuing to quickly adjust the engine controls to keep Odyssey from bouncing around like a pinball in a pinball machine.
“E-T-A?” Aaen asked Wilson.
Wilson checked the ship’s navigational instrumentation and then replied, “—About five minutes,”
“I see Crestax’s ship on long-range sensors! It’s headed for the same place as the alien carrier,”
“—We’re being hailed!” Hayes declared.
Aaen snapped, “By who?”
“‘USSC Aurora’,”
“I’m not detecting any other ships out there other than those alien ships,” Jones declared.
The cold chill turned into a surge of anxiety as Aaen sat upright in his chair, “Try to find out where Aurora’s transmitting from. Put them on-speakers,” For some reason, Aaen immediately doubtfully asked himself, do we even have a chance at tracing their hail?
“Aye,”
“This is Major Storm aboard Aurora, to Odyssey. We see you on sensors approaching the aliens’ rendezvous point. We are aware of the tactical situation. Signal us when ready on coded channel Omega. Aurora is ready to engage the escort ships, and a Shadow Team is standing by to board the carrier.”
Wide-eyed at what he had just heard, Aaen replied, “Thank you, Major,” and with that, he somehow found it possible to rest a little easier in his chair, “Standby for signal to engage hostiles. Odyssey. Out.” With a nod to Hayes, she closed the channel. “Standby to send that signal, Lieutenant.”
Hayes replied with a nod and prepared the signal on her computer screen.
“We’re two minutes out, captain!” Wilson declared.
“Steady!” Aaen commanded. The attack pattern he ordered would mean Odyssey would be nearly scraping whatever paint may be on the carrier’s hull as it spiraled over and around the alien carrier’s hull—he couldn’t help but be curious as to what Odyssey’s new and improved weapons could do. . . At the same time, he was concerned that they might be too close for the explosive torpedo warheads? He trusted ship and crew would function in such a way that they—worse-case-scenario—would just get rattled. . . Then again—“Sandberg, be prepared to adjust the shield matrix dynamics in case we need to pass through theirs if we need to,”
“Aye,”
“Commander Smith, alert condition-one,” the order was carried out immediately as the bridge became nearly cave-dark, with bright neon-red ribbon lights highlighting the bridge with an accompanying alert, “All hands: battle stations. Acquire carrier hull and subsystem targets and standby to engage targets on my command. Be ready, Lieutenant Hayes. Tell me when the alien convoy slows to sublight speed,”
Hayes nodded again, this time twice as anxiously as before; Wilson acknowledged his order promptly with Hayes.
“We’re slowing to sublight speed!” Wilson declared. The stars were becoming visible again.
Aaen looked at the viewscreen and shouted, “Execute!”
*****
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