Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter ...Bang. The Federation's Bad Day (3)

“They are leaving the atmosphere!” the tactical officer of the Formidable shouted.

“Where are they headed?” Admiral Moporan asked as he sipped a cup of herbal tea.

“Nowhere… everywhere… I don’t know.” the tactical officer replied looking helplessly at his screen.

“Hmm...” the admiral mused. “Send the cruisers to engage them. Start knocking them out with EMP bursts as soon as they are free of the planet’s gravity.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

***

“What is that idiot doing?” the colonel asked as he watched the holographic wall in disbelief.

“Sir, it appears-”

“It was a rhetorical question,” the colonel said holding his head in his manipulators. “How the hell did this guy ever make it past ensign? Did we ever get a good scan of those ships?”

“No, sir. Something inside them is interfering with our scanners.”

“I’m certain we are going to find out what they are hiding in just a few minutes,” the colonel said with a grim smirk. “What about the System Defense HQ? We get there yet?”

“No, sir. Our units are en-route.”

“When they get there, have them drag whoever is in charge in front of a communicator. I want some answers.”

“Colonel!” the female Kreneel shouted. “We have a hyperspace flare!… It’s huge!”

“What the hell is that?” the colonel asked.

“I’m not sure sir,” the kreneel replied. It’s titanic!

“It’s the Ebon Dreamer, sir,” another officer replied. “It’s a human Sargasso-class freighter, registered to Morgan Shipping.”

“I thought only the Terrans made things that big!” the Kreneel said in awe.

“Oh that can’t be good,” the colonel muttered.

***

Captain Kevanl cursed as yet another freighter buzzed them.

“Target that asshole!” he yelled

“Sir!” his weapons officer shouted. “Something is interfering with our automatic targeting systems!”

“Impossible!” the captain shouted. “These are civilian- Full reverse! Abyss-kissed maniacs!”

His shields flashed as a freighter actually grazed their shields and bounced off.

“Pulse that shithead!” he yelled. “Fire manually if you have to!”

“Pulse away!” the weapons officer shouted. “It’s a hit! They are dead in the-”

“Hyperspace flare! It’s a big one!”

“Contact the Formidable!” the captain yelled. “Ahead emergency! Heading 180 x 120!” he shouted as they narrowly avoided another collision. “And for the love of the creators please shoot these pool-shitters!”

“I can’t get through!” the communications officer yelled.

“What?”

“All frequencies are completely clogged with… music… It’s disturbing stuff, Captain! Even the hyperspace channels!”

“All of them?”

“Yes, Captain,” the communications officer said helplessly. “I can’t get through.”

The shields screamed in protest as yet another freighter expertly glanced off of them drawing a broad glowing streak along their entire port side.

“Shields fifteen percent loaded!” the tactical officer shouted.

“Keep firing EMP’s!” the captain shouted and then turned to the communications officer. “I don’t care how you do it but get me the admiral!”

“Yes, Captain,” the communications officer said miserably.

***

The admiral looked at the main display, his rage slowly building.

It was madness! His cruisers were completely swarmed by hordes of freighters “buzzing” them from all directions!

It was as if they had absolutely no concern the consequences of their actions. Didn’t they know that they would all be imprisoned, their ships seized?

Why didn’t they care?

It didn’t really matter in the end, he mused. Slowly but surely they were getting picked off by EMP’s. It would take hours at this rate but they would all be disabled.

But could they board them quickly enough for them not to be able to recover and resume their insanity?

It was time to lay down the law.

“Send a broadband message stating that every ship that continues to harass our vessels past this point will be, in accordance with the statutes pertaining to Martial Law and in accordance with the articles of Emergency Protocols, considered enemy combatants and will be engaged with lethal force!”

“I can’t, Admiral,” the Formidable communications officer said miserably. “All frequencies of any sort are hopelessly jammed with music and other noise.”

“Impossible!” the admiral yelled. “You mean to tell me that we, a Federation battleship can’t cut through the yammerings of these rabble?”

“Some of them are carrying very powerful transmitters, Admiral!”

“Well have them targeted with pulses!”

“We are having difficulty determining the source of the transmissions,” the communications officer winced. “There are too many of them to clearly-”

“Useless! The lot of you!” the admiral bellowed. “Fire a message torpedo!”

“Sir, if we do that-”

“Don’t presume to tell me my job, Lieutenant!” the admiral shouted. “Load that message into a torpedo and launch the accursed thing!”

“Yes, Admiral...” the Lieutenant said miserably.

***

On board the Ebon Dreamer Captain Sturdivant sipped a mug of coffee and idly looked at his monitors. He smiled happily. Never in a million years did he ever expect to see combat again. It was a dream come true.

“Any time now,” he said quietly.

“Captain?” his first mate asked.

“The Formidable,” the captain replied. “It will launch a message torpedo any second now. Is our course laid in?”

“Yes, Captain,” she replied. “The secondary jump drive is already spooled up and ready to-”

“There it goes!” the captain said cheerfully. “Let’s do this!”

“Yes, Captain,” the first mate replied, swallowing nervously. Trying to keep her voice calm and even she pressed the intercom.

“All missiles prepare to fire!” she shouted. “Engage jump drives on my mark. Three, two, one… MARK!”

The Ebon Dreamer lept into hyperspace.

***

ALL VESSELS THAT CONTINUE TO HARASS FEDERATION SHIPS DURING THEIR MISSION TO SECURE THIS SYSTEM WILL BE CONSIDERED ENEMY COMBATANTS AND WILL BE ENGAGED WITH LETHAL FORCE!

ALL FEDERATION VESSELS! YOU ARE HEREBY AUTHORIZED TO USE LETHAL FORCE. REPEAT… ALL FEDERATION VESSELS ARE AUTHORIZED TO USE LETHAL FORCE FROM THIS POINT FORWARD.

MESSAGE REPEATS...

The message torpedo unleashed a blast of gravity waves, electromagnetic waves, and hyperspace distortions in all communications frequencies as its powerful transmitters slowly overheated, drowning out all other transmissions in the system…

And would for the next one hundred and twenty Federation standard seconds…

The admiral smiled in satisfaction. That would show that porkie rabble. If they weren’t frightened off by the message they certainly would scatter once they started being blown apart!

“Admiral!” the communications officer exclaimed. “Our vessels are pulsing their drives. The signal has been received!”

“Something big has entered hyperspace, the Ebon Dreamer… I think… but all of this distortion has made it difficult to determine it’s destin-”

“It probably fled once it realized that we were serious,” the admiral said smugly. “Probably running back to-”

The entire battleship vibrated as the Ebon Dreamer appeared less than two kilometers away.

“Wha?” The admiral asked, completely stunned.

“Plutonium!” the tactical officer shrieked, “Plutonium!”

“Fire!” the admiral screamed “Fi-”

***

The Ebon Dreamer shuddered from the powerful blaster bolts striking its shield and from numerous debris impacts from firing a broadside point-blank into the Formidable.

“Damage report,” he said calmly as he watched the Formidable break apart.

“Shields ninety-five percent loaded,” the first mate said nervously. “While the shields barely held overall we have multiple breaches along the starboard side… Multiple breaches.”

“Looks like we are out of the fight, then,” the captain replied. “Get us out of here.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Let’s see if all of those damage control drills paid off,” the captain said calmly and then looked over at his first mate. “Susan, you can stop running in place and get down there if you want. I got this.”

“Yes, Captain!” the first mate shouted and sprinted off of the bridge.

“Spin us about ninety degrees,” the captain said to the helmsman. “Ahead emergency. The second our main hyperdrive is fully charged jump to fallback point Charlie.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The captain looked at the system display hovering in front of him. All of the cruisers were already gone, ripped apart by salvos of… ugh… Terran missiles. The troop transports were getting engaged now. They had good shields but were woefully under-gunned, completely dependent on their escorts for protection.

They were doomed along with everyone on them.

A wave of (ahem) “armed merchantmen” were now leaving Zaran-7’s atmosphere. Those ships were ancient, many of them mothballed from the Sol Wars themselves. Their targets? The woefully under gunned auxiliary transports accompanying the troop carriers. Ancient as they may be their armor and weapons were more than a match for those transports.

The ancient captain spared a moment of pity for those transports. For those on the troop carriers it was going to be quick, nuked into the arms of the creator. For those auxiliary transports, however…

The Black Angels, Los Niños, The Long Shanks, and the Dragons awaited.

***

As the drama in space started to unfold, The commander of Zaran’s system defense force, General Gej-Reehe-Kelgja grinned as her crest slowly inflated.

“You old slug,” she chuckled as she watched the approaching strike force from her command center. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What should we do, ma’am?” a human major asked cradling a Federation gauss carbine.

“If they play nice, let them in,” she said calmly, “but if they start shooting, light those fucking Feds up.” she added with a lopsided Pol-Ka grin.

“Yes, ma’am!”

She chuckled and placed a call to Colonel Xx’vkk.

The colonel’s odd visage appeared on the screen. She wasn’t an expert in reading his kind but he looked pissed.

“General, I’m ever so relieved to see you well,” the colonel said with a wet snorting sound. “I feared that you had been taken by the rebels!”

“Oh, is that a ‘rescue mission’ that you’ve sent?”

“Yes, a rescue mission… Let’s go with that.”

“Well, we are perfectly safe over here, as snug as bugs in a rug. You can call off the cavalry, Double-X.”

“Not until I get a few answers,” the colonel said twisting his mouthparts into what the locals considered a smile (and he considered somewhat uncomfortable).

“Ask, away, Gumby.” the general replied.

“Gumby?… Bah, nevermind… What are you playing at, General?”

“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean, Colonel.”

“Where are your ships? Where are your men? All manner of tomfoolery and shenanigans are taking place and you are just sitting idly by doing nothing!”

“My concern is the safety of this system and its inhabitants,” the general replied. “’Tomfoolery’ doesn’t fall under my mandate. Neither do ‘shenanigans’. When the miscreants threaten the safety of my people, I’ll get involved. Until then, you are on your own.”

“You have a responsibility to the Fed-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, you fucking pencil topper.” the General replied with an ugly smile. “Do you have any idea how many people, good people, I’ve known my entire life that are now lying in-”

“COLONEL!!!” someone, a Kreneel, shrieked.

“Good-bye, Gumby.” the General with a wave and a smile as she hung up.

She glanced up at the main screen and winced. She knew it was coming but, Jesus, those poor bastards...

“Major, start operation ‘Plausible Deniability’.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

Jaho proudly strode into the command center with a messenger bag full of snacks and soft drinks.

“I have your-” he started to proudly say and then trailed off in confusion. Everyone was just standing there, staring at the glowing wall in shock.

Some people were weeping openly. He looked up at the wall. He wasn’t entirely sure what all of the glowing words meant but he knew what the letters “FSS” meant.

When there was a flash and then those letters went away… that was pretty clear too!

He looked over at the colonel. He was just sitting there, completely silent.

“T-the Formidable is gone...” the nice Kreneel lady said as she was fiddling with her computer thing. “The Protector, the Gallant, the Inspiration… All of them…” she clucked miserably.

Jaho knew that clucking was them crying.

“Oh creators!” someone else gasped. “They are going for the troop transports! Oh creators! Oh no! NO!”

Jaho watched the screen as one glowy ship after another flashed and then disappeared.

“Seventy-five thousand troops...” the colonel muttered holding his head.

As a horrified silence settled over the room a quiet “thunk” could be heard.

The colonel looked over and saw a messenger bag lying on the ground and caught the tip of an Aat tail disappearing in a blur. He smiled.

“Creators protect you, Jaho,” he said quietly and then stood.

“Hey!” the colonel shouted. “We aren’t dead yet but we will be if we don’t get it in gear, now! Contact the unit commanders! Let them know what has happened and to expect company! Pull all drones into a perimeter around all strong-points! We aren’t going to let ourselves get caught with our pantaloons about our lower appendages! And, just in case it isn’t perfectly clear, lethal force is authorized for all units! This is now a war zone, people!”

Everyone looked up at him in confusion.

”MOVE!!!” he bellowed.

***

Jaho sprinted down the corridor looking into each room and janitor’s closet.

“Federation’s losing! We go! We go now!” he shouted at every other laborer he met.

“But bossman, he-”

“Rut the bossman!” Jaho yelled at a fellow Aat. “Endwar! It’s endwar! The humans are killing all the Feds! Run! Endwar! Run!”

The other Aat looked at him for a few seconds, then started to sprint.

“Ree!” he shouted, rushing up to grab her, as he saw her happily pushing her mop and humming a traditional Aat tune. “Ree we go! We go now!”

Ree beamed up at him when he touched her.

“Hi Jaho!... Eee!” she yelped as he started dragging her towards the door.

“We have to run!” he yelled.

“But I’m working!”

“Endwar!” he yelled. “The humans have started endwar! Not safe here! Come with me!”

“With you?” Ree asked nervously. “Ok!” she exclaimed cheerfully as Jaho dragged her down the hall.

My hand! she thought gleefully as she stumbled behind him. He’s holding my hand!