Chapter Fourteen: Course Chaotic — Part 3

“Our sensors are picking up debris that aren’t on the maps – remains of Enforcer Alpha’s ships from what we can tell. We might be able to determine what happened if we scan the debris as we pass it.” Omega said. “I am deeply curious as to what befell my predecessor.”

The Chief of Navigation plotted a course around the worst of the drifting wreckage. To him it seemed paranoid to have human life monitoring the systems when sensors would alert the ship’s computers to any hostile threat and wake the Alert Team so that actions could be taken to defend the ships. The other ships, he figured, had probably collided with an unseen object, something light enough to damage one or two ships, and send them spiraling off course. Omega, whom he honestly hated, had driven them like slaves for the past six months, looking for any signs that the ships had suffered anything more than a natural disaster. Omega, in what the navigator perceived as sick obsessiveness, held true to his nature, and the Commander, a mere lackey to the Enforcer, turned to face his crew.

“Scan the debris and record your findings, unusual or otherwise.” Commander Elliot yawned, turning back to stare through a portal.

“It’ll take me a few moments to gather detailed data.” The Navigator said, adjusting his multiple radar signals to gather as much data as he could from the small scraps of metal and slag that had at one point been pieces of ships.

Before he could coalesce even the hint of an image, his radar screens exploded in his face, and glass buried itself in his cheeks and eyes. Blood spat back the other way, and the Navigation Officer rose screaming from his console station, took two steps, and collapsed on the floor, choking. Some of the glass had cut into his throat, narrowly missing his jugular. A sudden pulse of plasma ripped through the ships, followed by a second, and a third. The ships shook violently, raw energy blowing out their electronic circuitry. Computer Banks sparked and blew to pieces, sending showers of cinders to the floor and vicious smoke into the air. The pulse protectors began to smolder and whine with every successive blast, unable to withstand the assault.

“What the hell just happened?”

Stepping over the Navigator, a man whose name he could never remember, Commander Elliot, pulled open a switching console, examining the damage.

“The chips are all blown. The ship’s calculations computers have been completely destroyed – we’ll have to fly by sextant and pulse flap.” Commander Elliot let out a distracted groan. “I’ve never seen damage this bad. I’m surprised we didn’t blow the pulse engines.”

“What could have caused it?” Omega rose from his chair, his nostrils flaring in response to the smoke.

The flagship resonated with the answer, the metal and skin of the craft vibrating out words. “You have entered space that is currently under the protection of the Antansi Race and its allies. We have been forced to cripple your dynamic computation systems. You have the ability to return to your solar system of origin. Do so immediately, or we will be forced to take further actions against you. This is your only chance to return home. Any act of route continuance will be seen as an act of war.”

“We’re not turning around.” Omega said, knowing that to do so would be certain death.

“After reviewing your answer and your current flight pattern we have determined that you are not going to change course, and therefore will be treated as combatants. Initiating dissection processes.”

“How did he hear me? How did they hear me?”

The ship began to resonate with the sounds of cutting and burning tools as the hundred probes tore into the armada, shredding it to pieces. The Commander and the Navigation Chief got the same idea. They ran to the rescue pods and made a swift escape for deep space. Their pod was caught by drones and stuffed into a storage net that spanned countless miles of space. With a deft stab of its laser, the probe crippled the pod’s engines, leaving it adrift. The port view revealed two-dozen drones working as a team, dissecting the ships and separating the remains into three basic components. Weapons were clustered together, the shells of the ships and their innards put in another part of space, and the sleeping caskets were placed in massive nets, along with the escape pod.

“I think they intend to drag us somewhere.” The Commander said.

“You’re correct. You’ll be taken to Antans and assimilated into the local ecological structure.” The voice of the drone hummed.

“How do they do that?” The Commander said.

“Don’t be surprised that your communications are being monitored. We’ve been monitoring them since you first came within range of our sensors. Please enter cryostasis, as you will be more likely to survive the journey if your body is dormant.”

The Commander shook his head, “I’d rather die than be integrated into some alien slave culture.”

Omega, however, had other plans. The Commander felt a prick, and found himself paralyzed. The Enforcer put him into a cryochamber and sealed him in. He did the same for the navigator, who clung desperately to life, too frantic to even talk about death or dying.

“We’re already slaves.” Omega said, dropping into his own case.

He hoped that for the troops and the crew, and even for Earth, he’d made the right decision.

Advertise Here