Yeah, this is my novel, the Seaportian Chronicles, completely rewritten from scratch. Please give me some feedback!
Chapter One
[spoiler]
Training flashed through Tyco Cenques head as he ran the survival course. Running through muddy terrain, he scaled a seven foot wall, crawled under shock lines, and evaded trip wires. Yet, the worst was yet to come in this two day course. He was a training to be a soldier of a special fighting group in the Seaportian Confederation Military, The Order of the Elites. They were a special operations team, using specialized armour and body-enhancing chemicals, they were the ultimate fighting force, Land, Sea, Air, Space, they were their, they where sent into the toughest military hot spots in the universe.
But first you had to survive the training.
Tyco had signed up for the military when he was sixteen, lots of people did, There was good pay, some adventure, and plenty of stories to tell your buds back home in a bar. With thousands of galaxies, there where rebellions and insurgents everywhere. But being a standard grunt soldier hadn’t appealed to Tyco, he had wanted to be in the intense hard core military groups. So, he joined the famed order of the elites. That was two years ago. Two years, of hard, back breaking, agonizing training, and trainers who had been known to kill students in hand-to-hand combat.
Now he was in the final phase of the training. He had been issued a light survival suit, a basic medical kit, a combat knife, and one day of starvation rations. He was supposed to cross a murderous obstacle course, paralyzing grenades, stun AP mines, trainers in Combat Camouflage, automatic turrets, horrific terrain, and booby-trapped obstacle courses.
Whoever was still alive at the end of this ordeal was finally given the reward of becoming an Elite. Tyco was one day into this course, and trying to cross a field of mud, obstacles like shock lines, razor sharp edged walls, and probably a trainer or two.
Tyco, got under the shock line, and heard the wine of trip-mine triggered. He leapt into the mud and buried himself in it. He lay there, letting the electric shock wave blast over him. He leapt up, and kept running, knowing that a moving target is more difficult than a still one. There was a whir, and a metallic click as an auto turret, firing paralyzing rounds to simulate real hits by taking away mobility of the part of the body it hit. It opened up, at three hundred rounds a second. The blue electric balls sliced through the air, blowing mud in all directions. Tyco though, trying to remember his training. His instructors voice rang in his head.
“Auto turrets are faster than you. You cant out run them. An Elite in full combat armour could take those shots all day, but you ain’t one yet, and probably never will. But anyway, you can’t out run them, you can't out maneuver them, but you can out think them.”
His thoughts dissipated into nothing by the sound of a grenade arming itself. He looked at his feet, and saw the black stick lying there. Quick as a cobra, he grabbed the grenade and threw it with pin-point accuracy at the direction of the auto turret. There was a loud ‘bang!’ as the grenade exploded, the electric charge igniting the magazine of the turret.
There was an explosion as the turret emplacement exploded into flame, glassing everything within three meters. He ran over there, and gasped. In the burning glass crater, lay the smoldering armour of a trainer.
It was no turret, there had been a trainer firing the turret.
And he had beaten him.
He restrained an urge to let out a victory whoop, but now willing to betray his position. He was also lucky, the massive electric shock wave had overloaded all the mines and grenades and turrets on the course, disabling them. He walked leisurely over the course, and then sprinted into the thick woods.
The woods were called the kill zones by old Elite veterans. Full of booby traps, mines, bombs, and anything else nasty the trainers thought of. And of course, there were probably about twenty trainers stalking them.
All these thoughts raced through Tycos mind as he stepped through the eerie green landscape, the silence was nearly drowning him. He made sure each step was as light as a feather, watching out for any dry twigs, or signs of a booby trap. There, he saw a tiny wire, as thin as a hair, across two stumps, at toes level. He leapt over it carefully, and crept on. He was also on the lookout for instructors in their combat camouflage. That was nearly useless of course, combat camouflage made the wearer pretty while completely invisible. You could see a faint out line if the sun was shining down on them.
Of course if you got that close, you where usually dead.
Tyco jumped over a stun mine, and ducked under a fallen tree. Then, he felt that feeling, that sixth sense soldiers had that said, ‘Get out of the way, now!’ He hit the ground, as a blinding green beam of light lanced over him.
The Ailon beam knifed over him, the stun blast peeling bark and burning leaves in its path. Tyco snapped into a combat pose immediately. Nothing. Then, he slaw the green flash as a ailon rifle discharged another blast, silenced. He dodged and the beam missed his head by a millimeter, he could feel the heat singe his hair as it passed. His eyes tracked the beam to its source, to where anyone would see nothing. Tyco could see the scantest, shimmery outline of a trainer in a combat suit. Tyco leapt behind a tree as he fired again. The tree bark peeled away. Tyco formulated a plan in his head, it was risky, but it might work.
He Took of his camouflage fatigues, and flung away. As hoped, the trainer fired his ailon, and cursed at his mistake. The moment he fired, Tyco moved a like a greased lightning, crossing ten yards of thick woods in two seconds. He tackled the trainers outline, and punched right where the combat camouflage generator would be. There was a sizzle, and a trainer appeared, shocked beyond belief. He got over that fast, and swung at Tyco, hitting him in the jaw. Tyco moved his head with the punch, minimizing the effect. Tyco drew his knife, punched the trainer in his wishbone to wind him, and then sliced his spine in half.
He had aimed the shot to paralyze, not to kill. He then quickly knocked out the trainer. He would report his position when he was done. He wipes off his blade, and took the mans ailon rifle and pistol. Stripping the trainer of everything else of value, he put his fatigues back on, and vanished like a wraith.
Tyco checked his captured booty as he walked. Another knife, more survival rations, a communicator, and an emergency beacon. That could be useful. He checked the ailon beam weapons. The pistol was fully charged, its air-intake tanks were ready to go. The rifle was also good, but since it was a larger weapon, it had to use a power cell, its air-conversion system only capable of working for a short time. It had a nearly full cell, with two more in reserve. It would be good for his needs.
Tyco sat down to consider his options. He could continue the course and finish it like the others. Or he could activate his emergency beacon which would call in a small dropship he could board, and take over, and take that to the end of the course. With option one, he could get more experience and a higher probability of passing, on the other hand, he could finish the course faster and get high marks for ingenious thinking, but could be disqualified for short cutting. In this course, there were no short cuts.
He decided on option number one, he wasn’t taking any chances now. He powered the ailon beam to setting three, a blow powerful enough to take down anyone for a half a day at the most. He holstered the pistol and packed up the other booty and picked up the rifle. He leapt over another couple shock lines and tracked on through the forest.
Tyco kept on going, and at noon he stopped for a brief meal. He pulled out two nutrition capsules and one hydration capsule. These little wonders, about the size of a standard medical pill, held all of the nutrition or hydration one needed for hours, at least on these starvation rations. He picked up the two nutrition pills, popped them into his mouth they became bland, tasteless mush in his mouth. He made a face and swallowed them. He tossed in the hydration pill and felt it become cold liquid on his mouth. He swallowed in gratefully and sighed in relief. It was time to move on. He picked up his rifle, and brushed around the areas he had down in, in case he was being followed. He crawled under another trip-wire and continued on his journey.
Tyco was quite confused now, this forest was supposed to be deadly. He had seen plenty of traps, but they were easy enough to avoid. There had been a trainer, but only one. The vets at the mess hall had bragged about fighting a dozen trainers at once, barely winning at all.
As Tyco pondered this thought, he heard a low humming sound, like a sounded down beehive. It grew louder, and louder. Tyco wondered what the sound was, then he saw them.
Hunter drones. Twelve of them.
Hunter drones were ultimate killing machines, dispatched to find fleeing assassins, or murderers. They had an energy shield, a high-power energy beam, and titanium B armour plating. They where small targets, only one foot in diameter, in the shape of a foot ball with one end squashed in.
They locked on to him immediately, charged their energy shields so the air around them glowed silver. Their energy beam weapons glowed a blood red and fired. Ruby red beams sliced around him, one hitting the near by tree branch. Instead of bark peeling and leaves burning of a normal training beam, it exploded in a flash of heat and light.
Tyco stiffened in fright, and restrained an urge to panic and scream. These drones were using killing beams! One hit would probably vaporize him completely at the most. At the least, he would be a charred carcass. Tyco switched his power setting to setting five, took aim and fired. The drones had anticipated this action however, maneuvered around the beam, and fired.
Tyco hit the ground, feeling his hair curl and burn as the energy beams sliced over him, burning bushes, leaves, and trees. Adrenaline surged through Tycos veins as he ran in rapid circles around the drones, this move would buy him some time, but the drones would figure it out in seconds, and fire their beams in a sweep to cut him down. As he ran circles, he made a quick plan.
All drones had a remote self-destruct program on them. If he could nab the leading drone and hack it, he could trigger all the self destruct systems simultaneously. It was probably impossible, but worth a shot, he decided. He looked for the lead drone; it was a bit larger and more circular. There, he saw it in the middle of the box formation. He stopped, and fired the ailon rifle at one. The shield flared as the green energy washed over it, and overloaded and vanished. Tyco fired one more burst, and the drones titanium armour melted and boiled away into a silver pile on the ground. The drone exploded in a fiery flash, knocking out another ones shield. Tyco fired again, and took out another unfortunate one. As all the drones turned around to lock on him, he dropped a flash bang grenade he had pried from its booby trap. The brilliant flash of light overloaded the drones systems momentarily. Just enough time. He lunged at the leading drone, grabbed on to it and pulled it down. The flash bangs effect was only a few seconds, so he had to act fast.
He ripped away a panel, and tapped in a self destruct code into a small keyboard. A red light flashed, it said:
Error! Code not accepted!
Tycos heart raced, the drones were starting to reactivate. He typed in another code rapidly.
Error! Code not accepted!
Tyco let loose a faint moan. He had to activate the self destruct fast. The drones started to charge weapons, he had to move, now!
He leapt to the side as nine lines of energy lanced into the tree behind him. As he ran, he typed in more codes, each ended the same.
Error!
Error!
Error!
Tyco screamed in anger. There had to be a way! Then, he thought of his instructors words.
“There are no short cuts.” In desperation, he typed in one last phrase.
Short cut.
A computerized voice said.
“Self destruct activated. Self destruction in Five…four…three. Tyco threw the probe away and ran for cover, dodging and weaving. His arm screamed in pain as an energy beam sliced away flesh and bone. He ignored the flaring pain, and kept running.
“Two…one…self destruction initiating.”
There was a titanic explosion of heat and molten metal, as the ten drones detonated with enough force to take out a fortified bunker. Tyco looked back, and just saw a ten meter crater of fire and glass. He looked around for a seat, and saw a tree stump, the tree leveled by the blast. He hobbled over and sat down. He looked at his arm; it was burned halfway through, with a little marrow bubbling out of the wound.
Elites had pain dulling chemicals in their system; they let enough pain through to tell someone they were alive or hurt, but not enough to distract them. This also made them immune to many kinds of torture, as the chemicals effects were irreversible. The initial blast of pain was not escapable, the lasting pain was. Tyco looked in his tiny medical kit, and found what he was looking for. A tiny packet of BioGel. BioGel was a type of gel for wounds. It regenerated the missing biomass with biological programming that allowed it to identify different types of missing biomass, and then construct itself into it. It was no good for missing limbs, but for wounds like this, it was sufficient.
Tyco squirted some on his hand and plastered it into the wounds. He then put some artificial skin to cover it. Artificial skin was basically a biological band aid; it would meld with real skin in a day or two. He got up, flexed the arm, and winced slightly. It would be immobile for a half-hour or so. He got up, packed up the kit, and jogged off, dodging another booby trap on his way.
He jogged another half an hour, and then slowed to a quick walk. He had calculated his position, and then decided he was roughly six hours away from the finish line. He chuckled to himself, and thought of the gear a full Elite got. There was combat camouflage, a personal energy shields, battle armor, regeneration abilities on it, making the wearer much harder to kill. There was an arsenal of weaponry built into the suit, each elite got a personal fighter craft, and above all, a personal AI program.
These AI’s where invaluable in battle, helped coordinate attacks with more accuracy, give exact locations, show him his complete physical ability, and also prevent the Elite from snapping in torture. As he daydreamed, he heard another humming sound. He grabbed his ailon rifle, expecting more drones. It was not drones, it was a condor twelve-man drop ship.
And full of Elites. Tyco groaned, and said.
“This is more than I asked for.”
[/spoiler]
Chapter Two
[spoiler]“There you have it sir. Your NG’s can move forty miles an hour, work together like no one I’ve seen in my extensive military career, can hit a target at four thousand yards with a projectile weapon, and can evade a professional eye from two feet away, if they stand still.”
“Their reflexes are a twentieth of normal humans, faster under combat situations with adrenalin in their system, and can give me a better invasion plan in ten minutes than the whole chief of staff, and you want to give them TROY?” The fifty year old man, known by everyone present as Sergeant Nadder asked in an amazed tone of voice, his usual rock stone features washed away in a wave of surprise.
“Yes, I want to give them TROY. Why wouldn’t I? There’s an old saying, ‘Why use a good weapon if it can be made better?” The forty year old man in the room said.
“I made them; I am the one who designed this whole project, of making elites better than you standard Elite member. This final idea, sending squad leader Tyco against some of your vets, is a brilliant way to make sure we are correct on his abilities. TROY will make him all he could want, and we will need. War is coming sergeant, the League wont wait forever. We both know, they are pissed at us for that incident with their frigate patrol. We all know it was an accident, and everyone was told that all is well, but the council has received reports, the league is amassing a fleet, to hit us in our main galaxy, In this one. If our council falls, the rest of the galaxies will fold like dead bark, with no fight left.”
“If we know they are preparing a fleet, why don’t we make a pre-emptive strike and get the upper hand?”
“Simple, to gather a fleet large enough to attack them efficiently would leave us vulnerable. The time it would take to build a fleet to attack, while we are protected, would be far too late to make any difference. Our only current option is prepare for the worst and ride it out.” I know this, I am with CNI after all, we know everything.” A beeping interrupted the man’s grim speech. He turned to a panel, hit a button, and spoke up.
“I believe our troops have found captain Tyco.”
The condor dropship lowered to fifteen feet above ground, and twelve elites jumped out. Immediately, they split into six groups of two.
Great, this meant Tyco couldn’t take them out one by one. It would be much trickier. He knew that this was a shoot to kill mission, so he could use whatever methods he preferred. He checked his rifle; it held enough power for six full powered shots, enough to take down a fully powered shield. His pistol held enough power for two fully powered shots, but it could be replenished by the air. Then, he spotted something on a soldier’s belt.
A plasma grenade.
Plasma grenades, once thrown, had an outer skin layer which melted, causing them to weld to any object they touched, exploding shortly after. He formed an idea. He moved silently after the closest pair. He charged both rifle and pistol to highest setting, and fired.
Tseeeeew! Tseeeeew! Their energy shields flared green, and then sizzled as they overloaded and vanished. Tyco fired again as they whipped around.
Tseeeeeew! Tseeeeeew! Their body armour boiled and melted away, running down to the forest floor in a puddle of molten silver coloring. The beams cut through their bodies, leaving clean holes through them. He leapt down, and grabbed their grenades. As another pair approached, he primed a grenade and threw it.
It glowed orange as it burned through the air, and landed on the chest of one of the elites. He started to scream, and then was enveloped along with his partner in a green explosion which leveled the greenery around them. Four down, eight to go. Another pair leapt toward the spot of the explosion, and fired at Tyco.
Tyco dropped out the tree her had hid in and threw another grenade at the pair. It hit one, and vaporized him. His partner was still alive, but shields were gone. Tyco fired, and burned his face off. He fell headless.
The last six split up into ones, and started to fire at Tyco. Their heat seeking helmet displays exposed him perfectly, and their beams sliced down at him. One line of green hit his foot, destroying half of it. He gasped, swallowed the pain, and fell to the ground in a heap. He lobbed two more grenades and one stuck. The unfortunate one screamed as he tried to pull of his helmet, and detonated. Another ones shields flared, and Tyco downed him with a well placed shot.
Eight down, four to go. Tyco hobbled up, ignoring the chewing pain, and moved on. Then, there was a horrible pain in his stomach. He looked.
He could see his insides. He screamed aloud. And collapsed, on hand on his stomach, which was gone. He had a two inch hole in diameter in his gut, all the way through. By some twist of fate, it had missed his spine. Tyco, groaned, and rolled onto his back. He saw an elite walk up to finish the job, thinking he was paralyzed.
Not so.
Tyco fired his pistol into the mans face. At the close range, it burned through shields, armour, flesh, and bone. He fell. Tyco pulled himself into a sitting position, and lobbed his last grenade. It landed amidst the other, three, and destroyed their shields. Using his rifle, Tyco fired his gun in a long, cutting movement, cutting them in half. Six halves fell with a thump. Tyco breathed a relived sigh, and fell into a pool of inky darkness.
Voices… far off voices. But he couldn’t see anyone. Why?
“Well, Sarge, he survived. And he took out twelve of your boys with out any help, or TROY. True, he is rather shot up, but he did it. Imagine his capabilities with TROY. They would exceed our calculations many times over. This sucker is True blue NG.”
“Yes, but why did you do this as a death match? I just lost a dozen soldiers, to your experiment.”
“He is no experiment anymore, he is a success. As soon as he wakes up, tell him to report to my office, understood?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, glad to hear it.” Tyco heard no more, because the wave of blackness washed over him again, plunging him into the world of dreams once again.
Light, uncomfortable, let me sleep a while longer. Tyco thought rubbish to himself, then his mind fully awake. He opened his eyes, and saw the white ceiling of a medical facility. He grounded, and closed his eyes again. Someone wouldn’t let him.
“Oh no, none of that.” A fierce voice said.
“You are in tip-top shape; now get up out of bed, and atten-tion!” Tyco leapt out of bed, snapped to perfect attention. The grizzled dark skinned face of Master Sergeant John Anderson, Tycos CO.
“Wake up soldier,” Anderson snarled. “Naptimes over, time for you to head back to reality! So, unless you want a wake-up stimulate of a twelve mile run, and three hundred pushups, you will haul your butt up to the quacks office, he wants to say good morning to you after me. So, unless you have any questions, get up there now.”
“Sir, yes sir!” Tyco rapped out. He gave a smart salute, snapped around, and walked off to the buildings transporter unit.
He marched, in, and pressed the buttons for the CNI doctor’s room. A blue light encased him, and as soon it had came it was gone, the only difference was the room he was in.
“Ah, Captain Tyco, come in please. Doctor Barley will see you now.” The voice of Richard Barleys personal AI, Corsenna, hit him as he materialized in the room. A semi-transparent one foot tall hologram of a thirty year old woman in a lab coat hovered above an emitter.
“Thanks Corsenna.” Tyco replied as he walked into the doctors’ room. Doctor Richard Barley of Central Naval Intelligence sat in a chair behind his paper strewn desk.
“Ah, come on in Tyco sir, have a seat.” He motioned to a chair. Tyco pulled it up, and sat down.
“You’re probably wondering why you have been called up here, among other things.” Tyco nodded.
“Well, you are here to hear a bit of explaining, you would like that wouldn’t you?” Again, Tyco nodded.
“Well, let’s back track a bit. Do you remember when you joined the order of the elites; it said you must have served two years in the normal military first, before joining the order.” Tyco again nodded dumbly.
“You were picked without any prior military training, they said that they were short of recruits and you were just a natural. It doesn’t matter, no the only reason they picked you was because I picked you.” Tyco remained silent, a trickle of confusion seeping onto his features.
“You were trained in no way any other Elite has been trained. The ability enhancing treatments? Never done before, you and the other trainees were the first.”
“No I picked you. You and the other trainees. You see, we have long-known of an upcoming fight, it is classified information, but I will tell you this. War is coming, a war we might not win.” At this statement, Tycos face paled. An enemy they couldn’t win? Impossible. Every enemy was defeatable.
“You are not elites, though you may think so. No, you are something better. You are NG’s, Next Generations. You have bones as strong as titanium-steel alloy, muscles as dense as diamonds, reflexes that would confuse a cat, speed faster than a race horse, and something else. Something that will distinguish you from all other classes. You will have TROY.” Tyco blinked rapidly, confusion now flooding over his face. He was no elite, he was something else? An un-defeatable hostile force? TROY? He listened intently as the doctor continued his powerful speech.
“Now ‘NGT-16’ is your combat designation. Now, let me introduce you to TROY.” The doctor typed in a flurry of commands on his console, and stood up and back.
A door opened in the wall behind the desk. On it was a suit of combat armour. It was the most interesting piece of equipment he had ever seen, it was olive green, made out of interlocking armour plates over the whole thing, In the centre of it, was a golden colored lined oval, in which sat a glowing blue mass. Tyco looked closer, and saw two blue crystals in it, hooked up with several wires. The doctor stated proudly.
“TROY battle armour. It is powered by two phentonic crystals, which provide constant power. Weapons built into this suit include flamethrowers; a wrist mounted projectile blaster, eight miniature rockets, and an emergency beam weapon just to name a few. The armours armour plates slide apart to let the user in quickly, and then lock back into place.” As to prove the fact, the dozens of plates which covered the suit, slid apart. The doctor motioned for him to try it on. Tyco walked into the suit, and immediately the plates went back to place and locked together.
It was a miracle of technology. He could feel his natural power, multiplied times many times! He moved his hand, and it flashed through the air in a millisecond! The doctor tossed him a piece of solid titanium/diamond alloy. He felt it in his hands, and squeezed. It bust into pieces, he squeezed harder, and it was crushed to a fine powder!
Amazing, even the strongest species in the galaxies couldn’t crush this type of alloy, even with their best suits on! Movement! The doctor hurled a chunk of concrete at him. He caught it, crushed it in a split second. This suit of armour was any soldiers dream come true, he had seen elites armour before, and it looked, and was nothing like this!
I’m glad you like our little toy, Tyco, but put this on.” He handed him a helmet. It was the same hue as the suit, and had a curios looking visor on it. He picked it out of the doctor’s hands, and fit it on his head. It was specially cushioned, making it more comfortable than an average helmet, but the padding was nothing compared to the sight.
It was glorious! In one corner of his vision, he saw his bio signs. His heart beat was slightly above normal, but his other bios were perfect. Next to it was a green bar which showed his energy shielding level. Another corner had a bar for activated combat camouflage and how much longer it would last. There was a number on the top, indicating the power level or ammunition amount of weapon he held in his hands. He found he could switch between x-ray, infrared, ultraviolet, normal, and even gamma and radio waves, with a thought of his mind. He said to the doctor.
“Sir, it is amazing! I have never seen a suit like this, but, do we, I, get to keep it?”
“Keep it? You’re the only one who can use thr bloody thing. Watch this clip.” A screen popped up and Tyco watched. An elite was in a suit of TROY armour. An instructor was talking to him the way one would tell a child how to do something for their first time.
“Okay, now, I am going to throw and object at you. I want you to catch it as fast as you can. Okay? Splendid! Let’s begin” He picked up a mock grenade, a flash bang, and hurled it at the elite. The elite swung his arm to grab it, the suit moving at mind bending speeds. His look of amazement, turned to one of shock and agony as the suit moved faster than his arm. The arm bent, and broke. The elite screamed, and started thrashing wildly, like a fish out of water. He screamed more as the super suit moved and broke more and more limbs, there was the snapping like that of a stick being broken and another shriek ripped out of the wrecked man. His own agony-induced spasms where ripping him apart! There was a spray of blood on the visor, and the man ceased movement, his neck broken. The video ended and the doctor spoke again.
“You see? With your chemically enhanced bodies, you NG’s are the only people capable of surviving in these suits.” The doctor started pacing.
“Do you know why we are making the NG’s?” The Doctor inquired. Tyco shook his head.
“No, sir, I thought we were for spec ops missions, infiltration, and sabotage, etcetera.” The doctor smiled wryly.
“No Tyco, you are made as the tape of the confederation. Do you understand?” Tyco shook his head dumbly.
“Well, let me explain. The confederation as you know is composed of six galaxies, several trillion thinking, sentient creatures. Many countries in the past have had trouble even keeping one hundred million people of the same race together.” The doctor turned around abruptly and looked Tyco square in the eyes.
“War Tyco, war. Civil war! The confederation is breaking apart, like dry bread. We need something to hold it together, take out the insurgent leaders. The elites are excellent, but not good enough. So, we made the NG program. You will go where none have gone before. You will cut into the heart of the insurgency, and scatter and dissolve it!” The doctor put emphasis on these last words by slamming his fist down on his desk. Tyco jumped nearly, and then settled down again. This all made sense, but, it just seems that there was also something that the good doctor wasn’t telling him.
But now wasn’t the time or place to start discussing things of that matter. If doctor did not want to tell him something, that was his choice.
“Go captain Tyco, head to the debriefing room.[/spoiler]
Chapter Three
[spoiler]Jerusalem VI was a HARVEST world. It was a colony and a farm planet. It was an agricultural world. Its main purpose was to grow vast batches of food for the massive confederation. A peaceful, simple place. A population of six million, nothing major. A little out of the way planet in the middle of Tango-5 system. Not having an impressive history, Jerusalem VI was colonized, and has grown food for fifty years. Nothing really spectacular ever happened there.
Until now.
The Armada Assault Cruiser, or AAC, Forward Beyond Tomorrow was passing through Tango 5. She was on a recon patrol, dead work. Captain Erindale was slouched in his chair, watching the planet of Jerusalem VI float past. The crew worked casually, bored to tears with their job. AAC’s were meant to fight on the frontline, not conduct border patrols in a harvesting system. When the Captain had been told that he was taking command of a cruiser, he had immediately assumed he was going somewhere big, like the Chinterian front. Turned out that that war was over. He needed better sources. He sighed, and rubbed his forehead with his hand. Frigates did border patrols, patrol boats did patrols, not cruisers.
But when they give you an order, you do it. At least this four-week patrol was almost over; he had to go through Tango 5, and one more system, Romeo 7. Then he could dock his ship, get some R&R, and then try to get a transfer to the front lines. His head rolled lazily to one side as he called out.
“Report.” The crewman working the system scanner, Bridge Lieutenant Grove, answered him.
“Nothing much skipper. We’ve got a class 5 comet, that isn’t going anywhere fast. Jerusalem VI’s Shooting Star Planetary Defense Station is offline for some repairs to the neutron generators, and the only other ships in system now are a Corvette, and a frigate.” His eyes drifted lazily, and slowly back to his read out screens and saw something else appear.
“Oh, and another ship just appeared in system. It’s a.” He stopped.
“It’s a what Grove?” The captain asked. Grove studied the readout a bit more.
“I-I don’t know sir. It doesn’t match any silhouettes that Is in our data banks. Lindy?” A hologram of the ships AI, Lindy appeared. She examined it, and gave her conclusion.
“Sir, the ship is not made out of any known material. It’s foreign.” The captain got up, a little more interested now.
“On screen.” He ordered. A holographic screen appeared. On it, the ship was exposed. It was the strangest looking ship the Captain had seen in his twenty years in the navy. It was a block, a rectangular block. About a third the size of their AAC. It was black. A very glossy black. It was moving at great speed towards the planet.
“Ship ETA, T minus two minutes.” Lindy said. Erindale ordered.
“Hail that ship immediately.”
“Yes sir, a channel is on now.” The captain stood up, and spoke.
“Attention unidentified craft. This is the Seaportian Confederation ship, Forward beyond Tomorrow. Please identify yourselves. What is your purpose here?” He waited for an answer. One voice, slick with menace, a voice that sent a shiver down the spine of the entire crew replied. A shiver, like death was blowing its icy cool death down their backs.
“Reclamation.” The channel died.
The Captain cursed. “Get that thing back online, now.”
Jinni, his communication officer replied. “Yes sir, one moment sir.” His fingers danced over the keyboard for a moment. Then, “Sir, they’ve jammed our transmissions.” The captain shot up, and snapped out orders.
“Raise shields, crew, man your battle stations! This is no drill! Pilots get to the hangers and mount up. I want you in the void ASAP yesterday! Power up main Ailons, and prepare point defense lasers!” The crew started mobilizing the ship to fight. Shields snapped on, and weapons started heating up.
“Send message to all units, prepare for battle. Try to get that shooting star ready for combat ASAP!”
“Sir, main ailons ready to fire. Awaiting your command.”
“Fire, send them to Hades.” On the ship, ailon cannons heated up, and glowed green. Then, they ignited with a blinding blast of green energy. Ten beams of destructive power burned through space at the strange, hostile black ship. The distance closed quickly. Then, as the ailon beams were one mile away, they bent and curved off around the ship, missing it completely.
On the bridge, the captain cursed and said. “What was that?”
“Sir, a gravitational field. They spread out a field of gravity, which bent our beams away from the target.” The captain swore again, and said.
“Fire plasma turrets on my mark! Fire!” several dozen bolts of super heated ionized gas blasted at the object. Glowing green, they slammed into the strange ship. The craft buckled, and glowed a brilliant gold at its hit sections. But this was not damage. The plasma boiled away at the shields, and then faded. The golden regions pulsed for awhile, and then dissolved. Leaving the ship totally unscathed. One of the corners of the craft began to glow a cool, brilliant blue. Erindale grabbed hold of his chair, praying to god that their weapons weren’t as strong as their shields. Then, a brilliants lance of blue light shot forth from the corner, and cut its way towards them.
“Brace for impact!” Erindale yelled, and then they were hit. Energy shields flared white as they tried to contain the energy they withheld, and then they popped. The blast of energy splashed onto the AAC, burning away layer after and layer of protective armour plating. Finally, it stopped burning. The captain got back up, and called out. “Damage report.”
“Sir, decks ten through fifteen are gone, boiled away. Several hull breaches with fire raging. Flushing atmosphere in burning areas. The fires are out. Hanger bays three and two are gone, and five plasma turrets. Energy storage tanks five though twelve have been destroyed and leaked into space. Eighty percent of our ailons are damaged, and ninety percent of other weapons are gone. JumpSpace translight engines have been destroyed, we only have sub-light engines. Engines are at seventy five percent. We’re almost dead in the water.” The captain reeled at the damage caused from one shot. Regaining himself, he ordered.
“Put the other ships on screen.” A screen flashed on, showing the corvette and the frigate. They fired a volley of torpedoes, and a blast of ailon. Pin point energy shots destroyed most of the torpedoes, while the rest caused no visible damage. The ailon beam hit, and again, caused no affect. The alien vessel returned fire, and fired two bolts at the frigate. The frigates centre exploded, and vaporized. A beam fired and hit the corvette. Its shields repelled the hostile energy for a second, and then vanished. The energy cut into the corvette, completely destroying it. The shooting star defense platform was next. It exploded noiselessly in the vacuum of space. All this Erindale and his crew watched in a numb state of horror. Their illusion of a mighty, powerful, unbeatable navy was destroyed along with those ships. Then, the craft turned to the AAC. Four of its corners charged, and the last thing the crew saw was a flash of blue light.
The AAC reeled as the energy hit. Meters of armour burned away, exposing the skeletal framework. That too, boiled off as weapons exploded and ignited, missiles, smaller ships, and torpedoes erupted into flame. The ship ceased firing, and fired a pair of torpedoes. They burned through space, impacted the Forward beyond Tomorrow and turned the once formidable ship into orbital debris.
“Forester, what is god’s name was that thing?” The man simply known as “the Chief” snapped at his friend and co-worker, Jonathan Forester.
“Heck if I know, never seen something like that before. But that thing is darn strong. It blew away an AAC like dust in a hurricane!” The Chief, also known as Andy, groaned. He was in command of a Viper class transport. He and his friend Forester were on duty, and had stopped at Jerusalem VI to re-stock their food supply.
Now they were concerned for their lives more than food.
“Andy, our gun cameras recorded all of that, right?”
“Oh yeah, Forester, send that vid to some place important. What’s the nearest fortress world?”
“Klein V, Andy.”
“Set a course for that place. We gotta warn someone about this!” The tiny ship powered up its JumpSpace trans-light engines and fired off into the other dimension on its mission.
Tyco moved through the hallway. Doctor Bailey’s words had puzzled him. They also scared him. He shook his head and cleared away those thoughts of fear and uncertainty. They would only make him weaker, for a foe this strong, he would have to have every once of strength he possessed. With TROY, he now had a better chance of succeeding. He walked down the hall, and toward a debriefing room, where the recruits or soldiers were given a run-over on the assignment. As he went through the doorway, he saw about two hundred others like him, the other trainees. They all had TROY battle armour on but held their helmets in their hands.
“Captain in room!” One of them shouted and all snapped to attention.
“At ease.” Tyco said, and slid into a sit. He sat down next to his friend, Jose. He was about five foot eight, and had brown eyes, and brown hair. He was one of the best hand-to-hand students the trainers had ever seen. He asked Jose,
“So, you know whats going on?”
“Yep. They gave us all a briefing after we got back from the course.” Their conversation was cut short as Sergeant Anderson walked into the room. All the NG’s ceased sound and movement. The room was as quiet as the void of space. Then, Anderson spoke.
“Soldiers! You have all been debriefed on who, and what you really are. You are, as the good doctor puts it, the Duct tape of the confederation. Your purpose is to cut to the heart of insurgencies and take out the leadership. Recently, one of our cruisers in charge of security for Sutherland system, exploded. No other ships were present, and no weapons of any kind were fired. The explosion was internal. Further research shows that a rebel faction calling themselves Bloody Joy had set charges in the main plasma reactors. Anyways, after the cruiser was destroyed, they seized the systems planets and took over the shooting star defense plat forms. Those are the problem. We sent a battle group of two destroyers and a cruiser, and lost them. So, we are sending you. A small group of you are going to infiltrate their command ship, and destroy it. With their commander dead, those orbital guns will fold like dead bark. Captain Tyco will pick an espionage group of fifteen or so. You will be transported there on the assault carrier Behemoth, which is part of the battle group that will attack after the guns are offline. Are there any questions?” One NG raised his hand.
“Sir, when do we leave?” Anderson smiled.
“Immediately soldier, immediately.”
Half an hour later, Tyco and a team of twenty were in the weapons bay of the Assault Carrier Behemoth. To say that the ship was overflowing with weaponry would be an understatement. There was every available weapon at their disposal. Ailon Rifles, pistols, plasma carbines, C-20 modeling explosive, anti-armour high-explosive penetration crystal launchers, mines, energy swords, plasma grenades, incendiary grenades, and a Plasmatic Expansion espionage ship-buster explosive, just to say a few. Tyco ordered his soldiers on their weapons choice.
“Okay troops, I want everyone to have six plasma grenades, one ailon rifle, and one plasma pistol. Take a boarding party plasma carbine and one kilogram of C-20. Joshua, you take the plasmatic expansion charge and the anti-armour weapon. Chia, you take a sniper rifle, and everyone, take an energy sword. We’ll be in tight space a lot, and I want to cut through the opposition we will meet. Okay, got that? Good.” Tyco grabbed a plasma pistol, an energy sword, and a plasma carbine. Carbines fired a bolt of explosive plasma, which had an outer layer which burned through and an explosive core which detonated after penetration. Energy swords were a blade of plasma, but instead of being looser than other plasma bolts, the atoms of the blade where compacted together, so the blade was solid. Sniper rifles fired a dense titanium round with a layer of plasma covering it to assist in burning through armour, and an explosive centre.
Tyco was at the bridge of the assault carrier, observing the other ships around them in the alternate dimension used to travel between stars, JumpSpace. Twenty ships, ten frigates, four destroyers, two Armada Assault Cruisers, two carriers, and one Assault carrier, an un-stoppable fighting force. Their only opposition was the Shooting Star Planetary Defense Platforms. Shooting stars were essentially, floating guns. The generated a ball of neutron energy, which was compressed energy until it was nearly as dense as a neutron star, which tended to shoot through shields by sheer density, and then exploded. For they were nearly complete neutron stars being fired, but they had a centre which was nuclear furnace. It was designed to collapse right after impact, causing the whole neutron ball to go supernova, utterly destroying the target. With twenty of these weapons stationed, they were a formidable defense indeed. So instead of taking heavy losses assaulting these stations, their commander would be killed, confusing everyone and causing chaos. Then, the fleet would strike, and take down the platforms and remaining ships.
“Captain Tyco, are your men ready?” Tyco looked, Vice Admiral Leenway was looking at him. Snapping back to attention, Tyco replied.
“Sir, yes sir!”
“At ease Captain, but you should go get in your ship. Your launch time is two minutes. Dismissed.” Tyco saluted, wheeled around, and marched off the bridge. He moved down the hallway and back into the weapons locker. All twenty NG’s were in their TROY suits, weapons in hand. They saw Tyco and snapped to attention.
“Soldiers! We are disembarking in two minutes, so, all NG personal to the boarding craft.”
“Sir yes sir!” The NG’s said in perfect unison.
“Alright, dismissed, head to boarding craft ASAP.” The NG’s dispersed, and headed off toward their modified boarding craft. Tyco followed them and put on his helmet as he moved. He activated a thought command, and a voice in his brain greeted him.
“G’day Tyco. Still plenty of operating room in here I see.” That was John, His suits personal AI. John was modeled after a ****y teenager.
“Hello John, are you ready for this assignment?”
“Ready? I was made ready! Lets bring the fight to them, a one two punch, then, knockout! If I was operating a robotic body instead if being trapped in some souped up meatbag, I’d be blowing away the innies! No offense on the meatbag, right?”
Tyco bristled slightly, but answered coolly. “None taken.” He moved down the passage way and toward the modified boarding craft. The ship had been re-designed to look like a shuttle. The plan was to let the teams AI, John, handle communications with the captured cruiser, and get them to allow Tyco and his troops to board. Once they were on, they would activate combat camouflage to bypass security until they got to the captain, and leader of the insurrection. Then they would kill him, vaporize the corps, and set the plasmatic expansion charge. They would set the timer for ten minutes, and haul to the ship. If all went without a hitch, the ship would explode, and confuse the orbital guns. Then the Seaportian fleet would attack, and burn away the defenses.
That is, if all went without a hitch. But as they were taught, nothing ever went without a hitch. They had tried to prepare for hitches, but since a hitch was something un-planned and/or unexpected, you could never really be prepared for hitches.[/spoiler]
This is all I've got so far, but more will come soon! Hang in there!
