Gradually Vargev regained consciousness, and groggily got back to his feet. Michael was still lying atop the smashed console; barely conscious himself.
Vargev strode over to him seeing the bloodied lifeless form of Axus lying face up on the deck, and helped him back up onto his feet. In his usual Russian twang he said, “Now you have gained my respect comrade; you should be proud. It is not easy to gain the respect of a commando; harder still for a Major of them.”
Michael stood up groggily and tried to straighten himself with an agonising ‘click’. He looked down at the ruined body of Axus, “filthy Krenaran bastard.”
He turned his attention to the bridge; it was a long oval shaped room with several status consoles and chairs lining the perimeter. It was completely empty now, only Michael and Vargev still stood. Krenaran bodies were strewn across the floor; thick white blood stained the deck plates, and coated some of the smashed consoles.
“Think you can fly this thing, Navy boy?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never piloted an alien ship before.”
“Well; now’s your chance.”
“We need to secure the rest of the ship, see if you can find an environmental systems console around here.”
“Why environmental systems?”
“Listen, you may be in charge on the ground, but I am up here; besides I have a plan.”
Vargev sighed; and began looking for a console resembling something like an environmental systems monitor. Finally he came to a console in a far corner of the command centre. “Is this it?” he asked; pressing a button with a strange symbol imprinted upon it. Suddenly the command centre was plunged into darkness; only the console lights showed up, casting an eerie glow across the darkened bridge.
“You idiot, you’ve shut off main power!”
“Oops sorry,” he pressed the button again.
The lights quickly came back on, Michael walked over to where Vargev was stood. A loud banging noise could be heard from a second door over at the other side of the command centre.
“They are trying to break through!” An increasingly desperate Vargev shouted.
Michael studied the console in front of him, and found that on the display there were pictures of a deck plan. The banging sound continued to increase, and small dents could now be seen through the door. He studied the console some more. There were strange symbols next to each deck; one looked like the detention area.
The hammering on the door increased in its intensity; as more dents began to appear.
Michael pressed the corresponding symbol for each deck, except the command centre and detention facility. As he pressed each symbol one by one; the decks faded to a mid-grey colour. All except the command centre itself which glowed bright blue; and the detention area which glowed a bright red colour.
He left it like that for several minutes while he walked over to the elaborate looking chair, studying it closely. There was a small console in the middle of this chair; Michael had no idea why the chair was more elaborate than the others dotted around the command centre, but he was determined to find out.
The banging noises were slowly lessening in their intensity; fewer dents were appearing in the door, which by now was looking decidedly battered.
Vargev walked over to him, “what do you think it is?”
“I’ve no idea,” Michael replied looking puzzled, “only one way to find out.” He lowered himself down into the chair, its white leather felt soft and padded.
“It is comfortable though.”
Vargev shot him a look, “I don’t think it’s a sofa, comrade.”
Suddenly two metallic arms on the chair moved up from its sides almost silently and with mechanical precision, they clicked into place. The small console moved forward into position between his legs; and stopped within easy reach. At the ends of these two arms there were hand holes; and through these holes were grips containing a variety of red buttons. More strange symbols were imprinted upon them.
The banging on the door gradually ceased.
Michael put his hands gingerly inside the holes.
“Are you sure you should be doing that. What if it’s some kind of torture device?” Vargev asked, eyeing the chair suspiciously.
The holes were a little big, but not too much of a problem, usually designed for Krenaran arms and hands; Michael thought.
The arms of the chair began to take on the movements of his own arms, augmenting his movements with the mechanics contained within the chair itself. Michael lowered his right arm; and the chair arm did the same. Simultaneously the entire ship quickly pitched to port; throwing Vargev completely off balance, and landing with a thud on the deck plating.
“It’s a pilot’s chair!” Michael said elated.
“Good, now that you’ve thrown me on my ass.”
“Sorry about that. The controls take a bit of getting used to; the console display must be for speed, distance and heading.”
Vargev got to his feet; and brushed himself off, “what do you think the buttons on the grips are for?”
“Probably weapons controls, and thrusters.”
Michael returned his arms to level and took them out of the hand holes. The chair arms gradually returned to their original positions.
“This is supremely advanced; we don’t have anything like it in the E.D.F.”
He got out of the chair and walked with Vargev over to the environmental console. Reversing what he did previously; all the decks on the deck plan gradually lit up in their respective colours again; some red, some green, and some blue.
“What did you do?”
“I simply shut off the air supply to all decks except the command centre and detention area. The ship is now ours,” Michael replied smiling.
Vargev smiled back, “You suffocated them? I like it. What are we going to call our new ship anyway?”
Michael thought for a moment. “I haven’t thought about it much really; tell you what, we’ll call it the Liberty.”
“Why the Liberty?”
“Because I like the statue of liberty; and besides it sounds good,” Michael replied smiling.
“The E.D. F could do with a bit of luck at the moment; the Liberty it is then.”
“We have to get back down to the detention facility.”
Together they studied the deck plan on the monitor.
“If we go through that door the Krenarans were banging on, and head down the corridor; we should come to a second elevator. We can get to the detention facility from there,” Michael said, tracing his finger along the plan.
“Then let’s go then.”
They walked towards the battered doors; and with a heave. The two men managed to force a way through. The doors creaked with the groan of twisted metal. Four Krenarans lay dead on the floor on the other side; as Michael and Vargev stepped through, they could see another five lay further down the corridor. All of them suffocated; pushing their way past the bodies they eventually reached the end of the corridor and entered the elevator.
It said, “Gorush’te.”
“Shit, not this again.”
They walked back out of the elevator; across the command centre, and climbed down the elevator shaft again; it was easier going this time. Shortly thereafter they had made it back to the detention area.
Kerulithar said, “I am glad you remembered about us.”
Michael glanced over the small console where the Krenarans once stood, he saw a symbol that looked like a sheet of glass and pressed it.
All the Electrical fields in the detention centre shut down at once. The various species of aliens held captive all piled out of their cells. Michael and Nikolai were stood in front of them. “Can we have your attention please!” Michael shouted.
The aliens continued to mill about amongst themselves.
“It is no good, they can’t understand you,” Kerulithar said as he walked towards the two of them. “There are twenty or so different species here. Let me try; it’s always best when speaking to many different species like this to speak galactic common.”
Kerulithar turned towards the rabble and shouted, “Galtray! Galtray!”
The crowd stopped and quietened noticeably.
“What did you say to them,” Michael asked.
“Attention.”
“Tell them we have captured the ship; all the Krenarans are dead. But we need a crew for the time being.”
“Alvash kal untra krenar udlish, kormei alvat assak, dadloo antima galutha.”
“What was that again?”
“The rough translation is; Krenarans all dead; ship is captured; crew needed.”
“What was your name again?” Vargev asked.
“Kerulithar.”
“Remind me to take language lessons from you,” Vargev replied smiling.
A Large green spider like alien stepped forward; it had a huge bulbous body, and was stood on two legs, yet it had six. And two bright yellow eyes. It looked rather intimidating; both Michael and Vargev backed off slightly, as it loomed over them.
“Kallash a ganrush kaneil,” it said.
“Wha…What did that thing say?” Michael said to Kerulithar.
“He’s a Faccadian, they are a rare species in the galaxy now. Their world was destroyed by tectonic pressure several centuries ago.”
“But what did he say?”
“He says he is one of the best engineers of his species.”
“Gannat kamadi kellen Facad,” the spidery alien said.
“He also says that there are not many left of his species.”
“Does he know his way around an engine room?”
“Gallutat fallash angin forlam?”
“Vorkresh,” the alien replied.
“He said definitely.”
“Good, in that case he’s hired.”
“Kerulithar, I’ll leave the crew handling up to you since you know what you’re doing. But I’ll need you up on the command centre soon.”
“An excellent idea,” the tall Solarian replied.
“Oh and one last thing; what the hell is the Krenaran word for the damn command centre?”
“Sal’Krasht.”
“Thanks.”
They walked out of the detention facility; taking a different route towards the second still functioning elevator.
“You plan on using that thing?” Vargev inquired.
“Hell yeah, I’m not climbing up that damn lift shaft again, besides I’m going to get some use out of it, while we still have a ship.”
They both laughed; a short while later they reached the elevator and stepped inside.
“Gorush’te,” it said.
Michael thought he detected a slight tone to the voice; almost as if the elevator computer was teasing him.
Smugly he replied, “Sal’krasht.”
The elevator beeped its response, and headed to the command centre.
Once it arrived at its destination, Michael and Vargev stepped out onto the command centre once again.
“Okay Navy boy, so now what do we do?”
“We get this bucket of bolts moving. Right now we are a sitting duck; we need to make sure which is which, weapons, defensive systems, propulsion, and sensors.” Michael walked over to the pilot’s chair, and sat down in it once again; the metallic arms arose, and he slid his arms through the hand holes. As a test he pressed one of the red buttons located on the hand grip, on his screen a huge energy spike erupted.
A bright green energy beam shot out from the front of the ship.
“Well, at least we know how to fire the weapons.”
Vargev was beginning to get bored; he was a soldier and a damned good one, his place was on a battlefield and not sat at a chair onboard a ship. He browsed over a few consoles lining the walls of the command centre. Nothing he could do there. Then he came across a console that he thought contained sensory data. The chair was still intact, and he sat at the station.
“Now, here’s a job I can do,” Vargev said to himself.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’ve just found a job I can do, sensory officer. I spent some time as one when I was a sergeant; guarding some members of the intelligence services based at Foxtrot Charlie base.”
“Okay then, what have you got for me?”
“I think we have company if I’m reading this right.”
Michael leapt out of his pilots’ chair, and dashed across the command centre to join Vargev.
Looking over the screen he could see two flashing white symbols headed straight for their position.
Damn, Michael thought; why now, we can’t even get this damn crate moving yet.
Just then Kerulithar stepped onto the command centre.
“I think we have company; two hostiles inbound,” the two men repeated in unison.
Kerulithar calmly walked towards the centre of the bridge and said, “Gublash.”
A hologram depicting the outside of the ship shimmered into existence in front of a bulkhead on the middle wall of the command centre.
The Solarian ambassador strode nearer to the monitor as if to get a closer look. “Krenaran ships; we need to get out of here fast, as soon as they realise we are not Krenaran; they will destroy us for sure.”
Michael and Vargev both looked at the display, saying in unison, “stealth ships.”
Michael raced over to the pilots’ seat and hopped in; quickly placing his hands through the holes.
“Push forward on the grips to accelerate and backwards to decelerate,” Kerulithar said.
“Thanks,” Michael replied as he pushed forward on both grips, the ship started to pick up speed.
“How do you know this?”
“This technology used to be used on our own ships; the Krenarans stole it from us when they attacked one of our research laboratories.”
“Kerulithar; send a message down to the engine room; tell the Faccadian we are going to need every drop of power he can give us.”
The Solarian moved as fast as his spindly legs could carry him, which was surprisingly fast. He moved to another console at the rear of the command centre and began keying in several controls.
“Kallat maihargieth kolei, sandropoth gosienus, voltargroth,” the Solarian spoke into the console.
After a short interlude a response came, and Kerulithar nodded his head; turning to the two humans. “He says, he will do all he can.”
“Good, now let’s see what this baby can really do,” Michael replied.
“Bring the ship slowly to port; bearing 147 degrees,” Kerulithar said.
“Why 147 degrees?” Vargev asked.
“Because that’s the direction to Solarian space; you agreed that you could not win the war without our aid.”
“No he did,” Vargev said pointing over to Michael, “I’m simply here for the ride.”
There was a slight tense silence on the command centre. Vargev and Kerulithar eyed each other intently.
“We did agree,” Michael said aloud from his chair.
An irritated Vargev replied, “like I said, you’re running this show now. It’s your call.”
“In that case, we need to plead your case to the Solarian Government. As a peaceful people we do not enter into war lightly and proof will be needed, you and the logs contained within this ship are that proof.”
“So we are going to see your people?” Vargev asked.
“Precisely.”
“Oh joy! And what may I ask about all the humans that are out there fighting and dying right now. We have a duty to protect them as well,” Vargev retorted, folding his arms and growing more irritated by the second.
“Unfortunately, that is unavoidable.”
“The hell it is!” Vargev shouted; finally blowing his top, “we should use this ship, and fight back against those bastard Krenarans!”
“Their numbers are too great; if we do that we will be destroyed as well. And we would have lost our chance,” Kerulithar calmly argued.
“You said it yourself Major, it’s a war, people die; remember,” Michael interjected.
“But not this many; especially when we have a chance to fight back damn it, whole colonies are being wiped out!”
“Your argument is sound; however with your plan even more lives will be lost and we would have lost the unique chance this ship gives us,” Kerulithar countered calmly.
“And if we remain here arguing we will be lost as well. For better or worse, somehow we’ve got to get through this,” Michael interjected.
“Okay then, let’s go on our little day trip up the yellow brick road to see the Solarians then. I just hope it doesn’t cost us too dearly in blood,” Vargev pointed out dejectedly.
“Yellow brick road?” Kerulithar asked.
Michael sighed, “never mind.”
Kerulithar walked over to where Michael was sat; the Solarian leaned over the back of the chair. “Push the grips all the way forward to increase our velocity to maximum.”
Michael did so; and the ship increased its speed significantly. There was a slight low-pitched thrumming noise as more power was drawn from the main engine.
Vargev muttered to himself, “damn Solarians, I’ve only known them for five minutes and they are already pissing me off.”
“Did you say something Major?” Kerulithar asked.
“What me? Nothing,” Vargev replied feigning innocence.
The Solarian turned back to Michael’s position, “now change our elevation to 12 degrees. Do this by moving both arms slightly upwards.”
Michael did as he was shown; the chair arms imitated his own movements. And a small blue display on the screen in front of him read 147.12. Michael looked at it, “is that the heading for Solarian space?”
“It is.”
“There is a small button at the bottom of each of your grips; press it to hold the grips in that position, allowing you to free your hands. There is also a purple button on your console; Press this five times,” Kerulithar said.
Michael pressed the button on each grip, gingerly he let his hands free of the grips themselves; they did indeed stay in position. Then he slowly freed his arms from the hand holds. The chair arms stayed in position as well.
“Don’t worry; the chair arms will only return to their standby mode once you’ve actually got out of the chair itself.”
Michael pressed the purple button on his console the requested number of times.
“That button activates the ships plasma drive systems; and the number of times you press it dictates the plasma factor you want to travel at.”
“So we are jumping to plasma factor 5?”
“Yes.”
A single bright beam of incandescent blue energy shot forth from underneath the captured Krenaran stealth ship and formed the swirling multi hewed plasma wake; it blotted out some of the stars directly ahead. The Liberty leapt into plasma drive and was gone, the wake dissipating behind it.
“Can you believe this?” Michael said in amazement, “our ships are only capable of Plasma factor 3 tops. It’s no wonder the Krenarans are running rings round us!”
“Those Krenaran ships are still following us,” Vargev pointed out.
Kerulithar switched the viewer to the rear view, the Krenaran ships were indeed visible, and had joined the same plasma drive tunnel as theirs.
“Well they are definitely following us now,” Vargev pointed out.
“They must have matched our course; probably wondering why we are headed towards Solarian space,” Kerulithar said. “If they get close enough they’ll open fire, try to knock us out of plasma drive, where they can re-capture us. Increase speed to plasma factor 6.”
Michael quickly jabbed the purple button again, “what is this ships maximum speed anyway?” He asked, turning to Kerulithar.
The low pitched thrum grew louder; and the deck plates began to vibrate.
“We are at it,” Kerulithar replied. “They can still overcharge their engines to close with us but it’s risky. They could end up damaging their own plasma drive systems, and then be hurled out of plasma drive altogether.”
The Liberty raced through the plasma drive tunnel like a lightning bolt; stars were merely long streaks of light flashing past the ship; in front of which the colours of the plasma tunnel were transposed, swirling, and melding, before separating and clashing once again. The two other identical Krenaran ships shot through the tunnel in hot pursuit; not far behind their quarry.
“Wait a minute, look!” Vargev pointed to one of the chasing Krenaran ships.
There was a surge of energy building up from underneath the vessel; the surge continued its uncontrolled increase in size. The energy had nowhere else to go, and instead burst out of the ships exterior causing a small ripple of explosions which smashed through its plasma drive, lighting up the underside of the ship in a series of bright flashes.
The entire ship was flung almost ninety degrees; before being hurled out of plasma drive altogether in a blinding flash of light. The stricken vessel disappeared from view; the second ship maintained its dogged pursuit however.
“I think the other ship is beginning to close with us,” Vargev pointed out.
Kerulithar tiptoed past the dead Krenarans that were laid all around the floor to see for himself, “it is,” the alien agreed. “At a rate of four thousand meters per second; it will be in weapons range in thirty seconds.
On the holoviewer, the Krenaran ship could be seen slowly but steadily closing on them. Bit by bit that ship was approaching weapons range.
Michael began to sweat as he looked at the viewer; his heart rate began to increase, and his lips pursed. He had seen in the news reports what these ships were capable of, but never had to face one of them, until now. There were trained Krenaran warriors over on that ship; who knew about the technology they were dealing with and knew how to use it. He had a rag tag crew; from god knows how many different planets and most of them didn’t have a clue about Krenaran technology. “It looks like we are going to have to fight our way out of this one,” he said with a hint of dread in his voice.
“We’ll need to drop out of plasma drive; press the black button right next to the purple one,” Kerulithar said.
“It’s like a goddamn kaleidoscope on this console; I don’t know what the hell I’m pressing.”
A plasma gateway opened up into normal space and the Liberty shot through it at full speed. Almost immediately after the ship re-entered normal space a second gateway opened up with a bright flash; heralding the arrival of their pursuers.
Kerulithar quickly rushed over, and punched in several buttons on Vargevs console.
“What did you just do comrade?”
“I’ve charged your torpedo launcher; this ship fires torpedoes based on particle concussion instead of your conventional explosive warheads. It is also armed with a front mounted particle cannon, I’ve diverted emergency power to the reactive hull armour also.” Kerulithar turned towards Michael again. “The Particle cannon is fired by the top button on your right grip; and the torpedo launcher from the top button on your left grip.”
“He’s coming in from behind; Jesus Christ he’s coming in for a pass!” Vargev shouted.
Suddenly an angry voice came over the speakers, “Galasht Vakra solarii gulesht can cadrat.”
“He wants to know why we are heading for Solarian space,” Kerulithar translated.
“Cordrun nu almasht gadrin ca,” the angry voice said. “He wants us to power down our weapons.”
“Hey, do you think he’s pissed comrade,” Vargev said to Michael with a slight chuckle.
“No shit Sherlock; we just stole his best friend’s wheels,” Michael replied laughing. “Tell him we are on an urgent mission from the Krenaran government, or something; just to throw him off our tail.”
“Sofrak Aluminish allvash congosht Krenarii gavrant,” Kerulithar spoke aloud into a nearby communications console.
A few tense seconds passed as the Krenaran crew mulled this over before giving a response, which finally came, “Falosht na gru.”
“He says you’re lying.”
“Korgasht av ku Krenarii sanas a Solaria belasht ku!” the increasingly irate voice said.
“He says there hasn’t been a Krenaran mission to Solarian territory for a hundred years.”
“I don’t know what he’s doing, but he’s doing something. He’s definitely doing something; I’ve got symbols flashing all over my screen,” Vargev said with a definite hint of urgency.
A massive beam of bright green energy shot past the Liberty bathing the ship in a bright emerald light, and carried on through space ahead of the captured ship.
“We’ve got incoming!” Vargev shouted as the shot rifled past the ship.
“ Jesus Christ!” Michael gasped aloud throwing his left arm down; the ship lurched to starboard, nearly throwing Kerulithar off his feet.
The enemy Krenaran ship was fast on their tail. A second beam of bright green light shot past the Liberty barely missing the underside of the vessel.
Michael weaved the ship from port to starboard and back again in a zigzag pattern, desperately attempting to throw off their pursuers.
Twice more the deadly green energy beam flashed out from the enemy vessel; Michael barely managed to dodge the first blast, throwing the ship into a fast barrel roll. The second just clipped the top of the Liberty. The entire ship shuddered violently under the force of the impact.
Vargev was almost thrown clean off his seat; muttering a Russian curse under his breath as he steadied himself.
Kerulithar raced over to the engineering systems console and performed a full diagnostic of the ship, “I’m not detecting any serious damage; but the hull plating has been weakened in that area.”
Michael desperately flung his arms up and down in the pilots’ chair. Giving everything to try and evade the enemy ship; and for a few minutes at least the two ships dodged and weaved each other, both flying at incredible speeds; and looking for all the world like angry wasps trying to sting one another.
He was sweating profusely as he strained at the controls, “come on you bucket of scrap!” He shouted as he sent the ship into an incredibly steep dive; the Liberty shuddered and threatened to break apart, conduits exploded as inertia began to take its effect.
Michael prayed for the ship to hold together, for now the Liberty complied. Then he followed up the dive by sending the ship into an equally steep climb; the scream of tortured, twisting metal rang out, as the hull of the ship was tested beyond breaking point.
The pursuing Krenaran ship was puzzled by this new maneuver and was slow to react; the Liberty quickly disappeared from view. The enemy stealth ship banked from port to starboard, pitching up and down, in a desperate bid to relocate its lost prey.
Michael managed to quickly counter each move the enemy ship made; keeping the Liberty out of the viewpoint of their attackers in a galactic game of hide and seek.
Beads of sweat continued to run down the sides of Michael’s face as he strained against the controls and concentrated hard on the manoeuvres he was making.
Finally the Liberty managed to come up behind the enemy vessel, it realised its mistake and tried a desperate attempt to evade them.
“Too late bitch!” Michael said as he pressed the control on the right hand grip of his chair.
The Liberties own particle cannon lashed out; the shot slammed into the enemy ships rear engines dead centre. The illuminated blue strip which was its main engines shattered and exploded under the force of the impact; the enemy ship slowed dramatically; without propulsion it was reduced to simply coasting on inertia. The Liberty looped around to perform an assault run on the stricken enemy ship; unleashing three torpedoes in quick succession.
As the Liberty shot past the rear of the stricken enemy ship the torpedoes struck home, three mighty explosions lit up the top of the enemy ship one after another as the torpedoes detonated; tearing apart the vessel, before the whole ship exploded in a gigantic fireball.
Michael watched the fiery remains of the ship gradually die down. “That’s for the Ulysses, you murdering bastards.”
“We should get back into plasma drive before any more Krenaran ships catch up with us,” Kerulithar suggested.
Soon the swirling plasma wake opened up again, and the Liberty leapt into plasma drive once more, leaving the debris of the destroyed Krenaran ship floating in space.
“How long is it before we reach Solarian space?” Vargev asked.
“It is a four day journey at our current speed,” Kerulithar replied.
“Let’s just pray to god, we don’t run into any more Krenarans on the way,” Michael said.
The Liberty carried on its journey through the swirling tunnel of colour that was plasma drive.
During this eerily quiet spell Michael realised he was extremely tired and very hungry after expending so much energy in that last battle.
“Hey Kerulithar, do you know where there is any food onboard?”
“There is a mess area on all Krenaran ships; however the food synthesisers only produce Krenaran food which may not be to your liking.”
“Is it okay to leave the pilot’s chair while in plasma drive?”
“Yes; we don’t have any course changes to make from here on in, it’s a straight journey.”
Michael set the grips in place and climbed out of the pilots’ chair.
Kerulithar arranged for a few crewmembers to keep watch on the command centre while they were away, just in case anything did happen; soon enough three other aliens arrived to replace them.
Together Michael, Vargev and Kerulithar left the command centre and headed toward the elevator. Kerulithar spoke the Krenaran word for mess area “Beliarath”, and soon they were whisked on their way.
When they arrived at the mess area they found a small rectangular room with a bare steel table in the centre, a couple of dead Krenarans were slumped face down upon it. There were several rather basic, black coloured chairs, arrayed rather haphazardly around this table, all in the typical rugged, yet spartan Krenaran style. In addition, a large and complex looking machine dominated one of the smaller walls.
Vargev and Michael heaved the bodies over to a corner in the room, they were extremely heavy and it took the two of them to move just one, Kerulithar’s tall, but fragile frame simply lacked the physical strength to help much. Finally, the three of them made their way to the machine.
“This is a food synthesiser,” Kerulithar said almost with a hint of condescension in his voice.
“Yes I know that, what’s on the menu?” Michael retorted.
“Well,” Kerulithar said furrowing his alien brow and looking up at the synthesiser. “There is Shash’lak brains, lung of Korvrat, Ralkos eggs, and Vormek stomach.”
“I think I’ll pass,” Michael replied; suddenly feeling a bout of nausea coming on.
“I’ll have the Ralkos eggs,” Vargev said. “They’re only eggs, how bad could they be?”
“Ralkos eggs come from the ferocious Ralkos bird. They are native to several planets throughout Krenaran territory, and are considered quite a delicacy,” Kerulithar pointed out.
“Toresh al Ralko,” The Solarian spoke into the food synthesiser. There was a muted mechanical whirring noise, and then a hatch opened. Two huge black eggs the size of watermelons, perched precariously on top of a steel bowl, was presented to Kerulithar.
“Ralkos eggs,” Kerulithar announced as he handed the bowl to Vargev; who wished he hadn’t asked, he nevertheless dutifully took the bowl over to the table and sat down.
Michael almost gagged when he looked at those horrific black eggs, but hunger drove him on. “I’ll have the lung of Korvrat?” He asked, “what do they have for drinks?”
“Galgrosh blood, and Neidrat bile.”
“Great,” Michael sighed nonchalantly. “Don’t they just have water?”
“You forget how expensive water is,” Kerulithar replied. “However they do have reconstituted water.” He said as he studied the panel on the food synthesiser once more, “it is not as good quality as the real thing but it will not make you ill.”
“What was the water reconstituted from?” Michael asked suspiciously; and then suddenly halted almost in mid sentence. “In fact; tell you what, I don’t want to know,” he said shaking his head.
And with that, they all sat down to eat possibly the worst meal in the history of the human race. Both Vargev and Michael gingerly tried their food, the big Russian Commando tried to break one of the eggs, he found it particularly resilient. Muttering a few Russian curses, he smashed it on the tabletop with a loud bang that shook everyone else’s dishes; nearly knocking Michael’s water off the table. Finally, the giant egg cracked and a thick, odd smelling purple ooze came seeping out of it. He felt quite nauseous at the thought of having to eat it.
Michael perceived that the Commando turned a shade of green. “What’s the matter; big tough Commando can’t eat rotten egg,” he said laughing.
“Yeah watch me,” Vargev retorted. And with an effort of will he pushed the thought to the back of his mind; and scooping up some of the foul smelling purple ooze onto his spoon he put it into his mouth, it was very bitter and had the consistency of thick condensed milk.
“Now it’s your turn,” Vargev replied almost retching; his stomach desperately trying to hold down some of that horrific egg he just ate. I’m going to feel that later, he thought.
Michael stared at the slimy lungs adorning his plate and with a little effort he managed to cut one with his knife. A cloudy colourless fluid spurted out across his plate; he backed off turning a sickly shade of green.
“Go on,” Vargev said encouraging him mischievously.
“I’m getting to it,” heaven help me, Michael thought as he picked up a piece of lung with his fork and slowly put it into his mouth.
There was an immediate salty taste to it, and it was very chewy; much like chewing on soft rubber. He quickly swallowed it down before it had a chance to come back up.
“What does it taste like?”
“Damn salty.”
“We could do with reprogramming the food synthesisers to something a little more palatable to humans,” Vargev said.
“I don’t even know if there is anyone aboard with the skills to do that; at the moment just keeping the ship running and making basic repairs are about the maximum the crew can handle. I could try but I’m only an ambassador, not a systems engineer. I wouldn’t know the first thing about what goes on inside there,” Kerulithar said.
“In that case, we could do with trying to find our equipment,” Vargev said; because I’m damn well not eating that shite again, he thought.
“Right,” Michael replied thinking the same. “Where is it located?”
“The Krenarans store all the equipment in the forward hold; deck four,” Kerulithar replied.
As he looked over at the slumped forms of the Krenaran bodies in the corner, a question flashed across Michael’s mind. “These Krenarans, why do they have white blood?”
“Their blood is based on calcium, which is also why they have a much thicker, heavier bone structure than ours. This is also why they have evolved to become a lot broader and taller than most other races in the galaxy. Ours is based on cobalt, which gives us our blue-ish pigmentation.”
“So why do they have huge variations in size?”
“They are known as the Krenaran overclass, scientists from many races have debated this, as far as I know there are three main theories. Some believe it is simple natural variation at work, others believe it could be variations in the calcium levels in their bloodstream, therefore creating larger specimens. The third theory is that the Krenarans could be purposely in-breeding to create genetic deviations for a kind of ruling elite.”
“So just how many of this overclass are there?” Vargev asked.
“Nobody knows, the Krenarans jealously guard their numbers, however Axus was definitely one of this overclass.”
“He mentioned a master?” Michael asked.
“Then it would be safe to say that this master could well be a member of the overclass as well.”
Michael and Vargev exchanged worried glances, judging by how hard Axus was to defeat, if there are more of these overclass then the E.D. F could be in for even more trouble.
Once they had finished eating their horrendous meal, they headed towards the hold.
“So what did you think of dinner then, my dear fellow?” Michael asked in a mocking upper class accent.
“There were indeed generous portions, were they not? although a trifle under amusing I do believe,” Vargev replied in kind. The two men laughed in unison as they headed toward the forward hold. A bout of nausea caused them both to hold their stomachs.
The forward hold itself was a tightly cramped maze containing everything from spare parts to captured weapons. It was dimly lit and gloomy; the only sources of illumination came from a strip of white lights positioned within a curve where the wall met the low sloping ceiling. Some of the equipment had a fine layer of dust on them; indicating that they hadn’t been used for quite some time.
Vargev managed to locate his pack; and his assault rifle, “ah, my baby I thought I had lost you.” He said, stroking it in jocular admiration. Michael had managed to find his own borrowed Armschlager too. Together they picked up their packs and headed toward the command centre.
For the next few days of the journey the crew busied themselves making basic repairs to parts of the ship that were damaged in the fighting. As well as disposing of the multitude of Krenaran bodies which were slumped all over the ship. Both Vargev and Michael ate from their ration packs; rather than dare risk the food synthesisers again.