Chapter 1, 2 and 3

Chapter I

Commander Tennison looked up at the star-filled night, and then checked his personal locator device. If the PLD crew had gotten the orbital sensor packets dropped in time, the PLD satellites should have settled into their orbits by now. Which meant the PLD should be working, yet all that Marshall saw on his was the little flashing symbol that showed it was trying to pick up the signal from one of the orbiting satellites.
“Lieutenant, check the PLD on the Spirit and see if that one can pick up anything. Anyone else have a signal yet?”
A diminutive man hunched over a data tablet slightly turned his face towards Marshall and gave a slight frown. “Commander, it should have been active before we even crashed. They’re not coming”. He turned back to his data tablet and let his fingers continue gliding over the controls.
Marshall let his gaze linger over the man for a moment before abruptly turning and walking over to the entry platform of the Alaurian Spirit. Looking up at the side of the ship, he could see the gaping hole created by the weapon that finally penetrated the shield array. Carbon scoring from the suborbital battle partially blacked out the name of the ship, Alaurian Spirit. Smoke still poured out of the damaged vessel as the Emergency Response Crew (ERC) robots circled the ship, dousing it in fire retardants. Letting his gaze wander to the left, he could see more ERC droids processing the human remains of those that hadn’t survived the battle, including the clone of the commander himself. That loss alone was enough to render Marshall suicidal. After all, once a soldier had lost his clone body, his chances of surviving life-threatening injuries decreased greatly. With no body to harvest blood, tissue, or limbs from, the medical droids would have no means to repair major damage or internal injuries.
“Commander, we have to make a decision. What’s it going to be?” Marshall broke his gaze to turn and face the man standing behind him. He couldn’t remember if this was the clone of Ensign Theore or the original himself. He’d have to review the casualty log later. Right now, the only task he needed to do was answer the question.
“Pull the information on this hemisphere from the mapping probes and do a quadrant search for any sizable mountains. The message indicated a sizable mountain, so we know where he’s at, and we’re going after him.”
“Sir, you can’t be serious.” Marshall cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Ensign Theore, either follow orders or report to the security droid. Either way, you better move out of my way now!”
“Sir, you’re chasing the Son of God!”
Marshall glared into the eyes of the man before him, waited a few seconds and breathed, “I know”. Commander Marshall Tennison then spun on his heel to gather his gear before beginning the chase for his prey.

Two weeks earlier:
United Space Navy(USN Headquarters, 1017 Local Time

“Captain Pollard, welcome, and please, have a seat.” The man waved his hand towards one of the visitor chairs in the well-appointed office. The walls, rather, the few that weren’t windows, were colored dark beige. The furniture was modern, and a luxuriant Egaran-green carpet covered the floor. The walls contained plaques and certificates of various types, while the smaller wall featured a door, with a starship diagram framed and hung neatly in the center of the available space.
Captain Angelina Pollard nodded and sat down to the right of the desk. Pollard was a veteran military starship captain, and her experience was well known to the man who called this room his office. The captain, in her midforties, was physically fit (as required by the United Navy), but was otherwise unremarkable in appearance. Her hair was shoulder-length, but she wore it up in a more efficient manner. Her naturally auburn hair had started graying, with a particularly thick streak just to the left of the center of her head. Her face was squarish with severe lines, and featured a flattened nose resulting from various operational skirmishes during her time in the fleet that had left her nose broken and scarred. Her pale skin could be attributed to either her skin tones or the fact that she had spent all of thirty days off her command ship in the past two years. She was above average in height for a human female, measured by their species at standing just over five foot eight. The stockiness of her body and her no-nonsense demeanor caused her subordinates to sometimes refer to her as “the brickhouse bitch”. Unfortunately for them, Angelina found it a source of pride that her crew would think of her that way. It was certainly better than being a captain who was everyone’s best friend. It was just as well, because it made her job easier when a crew member would die, either through accident or battle. She hated having to write communications to the family.
Vice Admiral Glenn Caturorglimi sat back in his chair behind the desk and shuffled some papers before speaking. In his late fifties, the man looked much older, and sported a bald head and bushy eyebrows. His neck was short and thick, making his round head look like a ball perched on a tee. He looked over at the captain and offered a slight smile, and then launched into his speech with a deep baritone voice.
“As I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here, and knowing that your time is precious, let me cut to the chase. Are you aware of the events that happened on Je-Fin in the Fe-Ruq system forty-eight standard hours ago?”
Captain Pollard shook her head and waited for the Admiral’s description of events. He leaned forward and pushed a folder across the desk at Angelina.
“Read it.”
Unmarked on the outside, the contents of the thick folder were neatly arranged and sorted using tabs to separate different groups of papers. Angelina began reading the first page, a high-level overview of the situation specifics contained in the folder. The document stated that a contact stationed on Je-Fin with the codename Nova Chaser was a covert observer of the Fe-Ruq government’s joint military exercise. The document went on to state that prior to the exercise, within the stadium used for opening ceremonies, a bright white light filled the sky, and a voice boomed through the sky, Behold the Son of God. The document ended by stating that several means of recording, as well as multiple personal accounts, corroborated that this happened.
Angelina glanced up at the Admiral and raised an eyebrow. He nodded and motioned with his hand for her to keep going. The second set of documents were transcripts of communications between ground troops at the stadium and orbital defense stations. Just from reading some of the communications, it was obvious the light and the voice, whatever it was or where it originated from, created immediate chaos and panic. Each of the orbital defense stations had experienced a similar event, as well as other nonparticipating military craft in the area.
The following set of documents contained a personal statement from Nova Chaser about the event. Nova Chaser confirmed the light and voice, and additional details revealed information not given out on the com channel. Large numbers of soldiers congregated in the stadium suffered sunburn-like symptoms. Nova Chaser’s monitoring equipment was recording at the stadium as well, and analysis revealed that the booming voice could not be heard on any of the recording instruments, nor was the flash of light captured on the image recorder.
Pinching the bridge of her nose between her left forefinger and thumb, she flipped to the last grouping of papers. These were intelligence reports about the responses from different civilizations to the reporting of the event on Je-Fin. Not surprising, there was some sentiment from the Fe-Ruqians that the entire event had been staged by one of their enemies as part of a psych-ops strategy. A military spokesperson even went as far as to dismiss the event as a mass-hallucination, denying any claim of success by the enemy.
The response from the Republic of Shalotha was much more harsh and critical. The majority of the worlds in the Shalotha System were forced into Christianity centuries ago, and the news of what appeared to be the beginning of the Second Coming was met with skepticism and disbelief. The skepticism existed because the distrust between the two systems was deep. The governments of Shalotha and Fe-Ruq had just come to a reluctant peace accord within the past decade, and the tension was cause for an uneasy peace. The disbelief stemmed from the fact that the deeply Christian Shalothans couldn’t accept the possibility that the return of The Savior would happen on their enemy’s home planet.

“Admiral, I assume that at some point my crew and I are being assigned a mission, otherwise you would not have brought me here to show me these documents. What is it that you need us to do?” Captain Pollard closed the folder and placed the package on the corner of the desk, just out of reach of the Admiral.
The directness of Captain Pollard pleased Caturorglimi, however it did not surprise him. He had worked with Pollard on previous missions; even participated on a Special Operations mission with her back when they were both junior officers. It had been a few years since the two of them had met face-to-face, and seeing her reminded him of why she had made Captain so quickly. She was all business.
“The Senate Defense Council has asked the Fleet to immediately dispatch a ship and crew to the Fe-Ruq system for a mission with dual objectives. The first objective is to monitor the situation in the system based on the information that you’ve just been briefed on. In the best interests of all involved, you will be reassigned to a smaller scout ship, the Alaurian Spirit. When you leave this office, you will be given a package containing the crew assignments and further detailed commands as to your secondary mission objective. Both objectives are classified Top Secret at this time, and as such you will have a smaller crew made up entirely of officers. Technical specifications on the Alaurian Spirit will be included in your package. Time is of the essence Captain. The Senate fears the Shalothan Imperium may be planning to raid Je-Fin on the belief that the subject has already appeared and is either being held captive or has chosen to align with the planets in the Fe-Ruq system. Protocol for reporting transmissions is detailed in your operational spec packet.” The Admiral paused for a moment, searching for any change in the face of the woman sitting across from him. Not even a change in her posture or breathing when I mentioned she’d be switching commands. She’d be interesting at our poker table, he thought.
“Admiral, if I may.” The Admiral nodded for Captain Pollard to continue. “What is our position on what happened at Je-Fin?”
“In summation, the official response from the System Senate is that if this is indeed truly the Son of God, then we welcome Him with open arms and await the return of the King. Behind the official diplomatic facade, most Senators are thinking in the same vein as the Fe-Ruq military – a psych-ops tactic as a pre-emptive strike to a new round in an inter-sector war. Unfortunately, most of our esteemed Senators are politicians only. They can’t accept the fact that any advantage gained from that type of attack would have been lost within hours, and would now be worthless since there hasn’t been any military or domestic terror operations since the incident.
“And my crew? Who is being assigned as Captain of The Seraphim?
“Captain Dante Nicolai from The Eccentric has been transferred to your former command, effective today. In fact, we are having a courier pack your personal belongings from the stateroom and take them to your new command. You will report directly to your new command to expedite your departure.”
Formalities ensued, with Captain Pollard dismissed in short time. Striding out of the office, an assistant to the Admiral called out from Angelina’s left and presented her with a data tablet card and authorization encryption codes. Nodding as a receipt, she took the package and stuffed it into her briefcase as she walked towards the hover-lift terminals. She stated “Shuttle Deck” and the lift smoothly dropped to the correct level.
Stepping out of the lift, she was immersed in a sea of activity, as personnel of all types swarmed past her in the travel aisles and on the flight decks. The shuttle deck itself wasn’t a deck at all, but a vast hanger designated for use by transfer shuttles to the orbital stations and other ground bases on the planet. It was also the preferred hangar for visiting dignitaries, and as such was heavily armed with United Space Marines stationed throughout the area. To the left of the lift terminals was a series of glass enclosed meeting rooms with central access and scrolling holonews updates projected on the back wall of each the room. To the right, further down the flight deck was the central Flight Command Center, also known as FCOM. This was the gateway to the base, and all flights arriving or departing had to be cleared through this building. This was her destination, as she needed to get information on which orbital station the Alaurian Spirit was docked at, and then take the requisite shuttle up to the dock.
The whine of the antigravity engines powering the shuttles in and out of the bay was just short of deafening, and as such it wasn’t recommended that anyone be exposed on the deck for long periods of time. Striding down to FCOM, she put her hands over her ears to blunt the impact of the noise. The crews that worked on the deck regularly had their protective suits and headgear on to protect against the noise, but even then they were rotated out regularly to protect their hearing.
Walking into the FCOM, there were data screens suspended from the ceiling to her right and left showing the orbital station names, with the flight info for arriving and departing shuttles. Since the stations were so vast, it wasn’t uncommon to have three or four shuttles listed as arriving and another three to four as departing, all within the same hour. Because of the small capacity of the shuttles, each ship could only transport eight people at a time, not including the pilot.
Angelina went past the screens to a data terminal and pulled up the name of the ship she was looking for. Finding it on the first screen alphabetically, she glanced to the left of the name of the ship to see which orbital station it was berthed at. The station listed was currently flashing a flight backlog of forty minutes, meaning it would give her some time before a shuttle would be available. Tentatively, shuttle USF-187 was assigned to the next departure flight.
Angelina realized she hadn’t eaten or drank anything all day, so she asked a nearby officer if there was a mess hall in the FCOM, to which she was directed down to an adjoining hallway. She grabbed a hot chocolate and piece of fruit, and then headed back to the deck to use the down time to analyze her data card.
Stepping into one of the glass walled rooms, she touched a small square outline near the doorway, which immediately tinted every pane of glass in the room to nontransparent black. She laid down a paper napkin she had taken from the mess hall on the table in the center of the room and set her fruit and drink on it. Sliding her briefcase strap off her shoulder, she took out the data card given to her from the Admiral’s assistant and glanced at it. It was one of the newer cards that didn’t need a reader. One side of the card had a touch screen keypad imprinted on the face, and then other side of the card was a black face that could be activated by entering the proper encryption sequence on the keypad side. Once activated, the user only had to set it on a flat surface, blank side up, and the built in nano holoprojector would display the materials and information in three-dimensional format roughly a foot above the card. The user of the card could then use a bare hand to manipulate through the data by “touching” some of the data keys that were being projected. Since the projector constantly scanned fingerprint signatures, it only responded to movements of authorized prints on the hologram keyboard just as a computer receiving commands from a physical terminal would.
Angelina pulled up the information on Alaurian Spirit first. A technical drawing of the ship came up, rotating slowly in space. Operating specifications were shown to the left of the drawing. The information indicated the ship was originally an Odysseus-class long-range frigate, but had recently been modified and reclassified as a USN Protector-class long-range scout ship. Angelina touched the modifications line and certain parts of the ship diagram started blinking red. She touched one of the blinking items and watched as that part enlarged and rotated up above the ship for three hundred and sixty degree viewing. She cycled through various weapons additions and defensive upgrades. Among the most impressive was a full installation of an MCAC multitarget missile system and a MERL device. The ship also had full military-grade physical shield arrays installed near all view-ports, access ports, and the entire bridge, as well as a minimal energy shield array. Within the two hundred meter long ship, over half of all the crew functions had been automated, either through enhancements or additional Navigation droids. As an unautomated frigate vessel, the crew compliment had been approximately 40 people. With the enhancements and additions of droids, the new headcount requirement for the crew was only eighteen; quite small for a ship of that size. The ship was originally designed in three sections, with the front section being a rounded orb-type structure that originally housed all the crew. This section connected to the middle one by a narrower ‘neck’ that contained emergency bulkhead doors and air locks. The lower deck on the front section of the ship had been converted into the housing for the MERL device. The equipment housing the sensor instruments and military upgrade shield generation equipment were housed in the deck above that. The vessel’s general operations stations were located on the deck above that, with the bridge being the top deck. This forward module connected to the middle section of the ship, which had previously been the cargo hold of the frigate. This area was compartmentalized into several different “cells”, each with different functions. The two forward cells were dedicated to the MCAC system, including operations stations, munitions supplies, and infrastructure upgrades required to run the system. The aft cells were dedicated to engineering, with the aft-most cell containing the fusion generator and antigravity components required for both orbital and suborbital flight. The engines and thrusters were in the last section of the ship, making up almost a third of the ship’s length.
Angelina studied the technical specifications, trying to absorb as much information as possible. Using a zoom function within the map of the ship’s decks, she quickly found where her stateroom would be in the forward section, along with the other officers nearby. She continued her virtual tour through the ship, noting one of the strengths of the craft. The vessel boasted a state-of-the-art sensor package that would allow the ship to be used effectively as a long-range reconnaissance ship, thus limiting the opportunity for detection by standard commercial and low-level military craft. This feature alone was enough to make Captain Pollard wonder just how sensitive her mission would be.
Catching herself losing track of time, she glanced at her wrist krono and decided she needed to start working her way towards the shuttle. She touched a virtual-key within the projection, shutting it down, and gathered the data card off the table and stuffed it back into her brief case. Standing and touching the glass wall again, she returned the translucency back to normal and walked towards the shuttle that would take her to her new command.


Chapter II

Radael Asalor watched the reports of the event on Je-Fin once again in his personal Reflection Chamber. Certain he had missed something, the being that held the title Shalotha Primary thoughtfully rubbed the black keratin ridges that ran along the backs of his fingers. Most of his advisors had immediately dismissed the strange reports as a shrewd warfare strategy that bordered on the edge of blasphemy.
Two arguments had come to the forefront of the majority of his advisors and the General of the Armies, the supreme commander of the warrior castes. The first was that the alleged event never occurred, and that it was a ploy by the Fe-Ruqians to reengage in a military confrontation. The Fe-Ruq military had been stepping up its exercises and mock war games for months. They were getting ready for something, and the faction that supported the notion of falsehood assumed that their military readiness was aimed at an invasion of Shalotha. The theory made sense. The momentum in the war had begun to turn in the Fe-Ruqians favor as the truce had been negotiated through a third party. The Fe-Ruqians were about to gain a major territorial advantage over the Shalothans when representatives from the USN negotiated the truce. The agreement ended an offensive that many Fe-Ruqians felt could have delivered the fatal blow to the primary world of the Shalotha sector. Even now, the Primary felt, the desire and opportunity to finish the war on their own terms may be too much for the Fe-Ruqians to withstand. Using a religious event such as the one the Fe-Ruqians reported to lure their enemies into their own territory would be a brilliant tactical maneuver. If successful, the Shalothans would be going into their enemies’ heavily defended system with a warrior caste greatly reduced in numbers, and possibly blinded by the religious overtones of the event. In Radael’s eyes, it appeared to be a recipe for disaster.
The second faction favored the argument that it actually was the Son of God, sent down from Heaven to return His faithful to their rightful place of glory in His Kingdom. His return in the godless sector of Fe-Ruq, on a planet known for being faithless and hedonistic, was viewed as a sign the Shalothans were righteous in their belief that they were the better species. Extremists within the faction took it so far as to infer that this was a sign the Shalothans should continue their cleansing campaign against the neighboring sectors. After all, how could they not succeed with the Son of God aiding them in their crusade against the heathens? At a minimum, many of the extremists felt the warrior caste should join the Savior as loyal disciples as He meted out His judgment against the Fe-Ruq populations.
Radael Asalor wasn’t convinced that either was the correct theory. Despite his advisors’ suspicions, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the notion that the Fe-Ruq military would be that deceitful and blasphemous. For them to use a part of their enemy’s sacred religion against them as a means to lure them into a trap would be considered dishonorable at best. He also wasn’t convinced that the return of the Son had indeed happened on Je-Fin, and felt that sending the warrior caste to Je-Fin as a welcoming escort for the Son of God was an invitation to be attacked. Sovereign entities simply couldn’t send their warriors to other systems uninvited and expect open arms and a warm welcome. Despite some of the advisors’ assurances that the arrival of the warriors would be met with both the blessing and the protection of the Savior, it was a risky proposition. The departure of any large contingent from the Shalothan system could very well be met with excessive resistance, not only from the Fe-Ruq military, but also their allies in the Aormy and Otine sectors. With the devastating effects of the inter-sector war still fresh in everyone’s minds, any slight buildup or movement by the Shalothan warrior caste would be destined to begin the war anew.
Primary Asalor stood up in his chamber to stretch. He had been sitting too long, and the keratin-sheathed muscles on his long frame ached from being idle. The Shalothans were a bipedal species, and typically stood two meters in height. Their height was accentuated by the ridges of keratin that ran along the measures of the body. Overall the body of a Shalothan was mostly covered in keratin of one density of another. Sections of keratin grew around the muscles of the arms and legs of the body, as well as around the upper torso area and shoulders. A sheath of thin keratin covered the long skulls of the species, with many sporting natural ridge growths that ran along the cranium from the top of the forehead to the base of the skull. The Shalothans featured luminous deep-set eyes, with long sharp teeth, and a long, wide nose that had three horizontal breathing ridges along the bridge. The typical skull was long, much like the body, and usually had a severe jaw line. The three-fingered hands of the Shalothans were covered in a leathery film of keratin, flexible as human skin, yet more durable than many protective gloves. Members of the warrior caste were selected from birth based on genetic tests to find out if their bodies would develop the telling horns and spikes among certain parts of the body that separated the warrior caste from other castes of the species. Warrior caste Shalothans almost always developed two-to-three centimeter horns or spikes on the shoulders, as well as the knee joints, elbow joints, along the ridges of their hands and fingers, and increased claw length. The species itself was resilient, with the keratin acting as a naturally regenerating covering that enabled warriors to absorb more blows and injuries than typical species.
Over the course of dozens of millennia, the species had developed and heightened their unique ability of pyrokinesis – the control of fire. The priest caste had developed the strongest abilities, but all individuals within the species had some control, although with varying levels of strength. For some, it was the ability to make the tip of their finger glow red with heat. For others, it was the ability to self-immolate on command, creating a walking torch. The natural keratin coating protected them from short-term damage, although long-term use of pyrokinesis to this extent had left many priests deformed and permanently scarred. The ability had lessened in importance as the Shalothans developed into a more sophisticated society. The extent of the ability now was for visual effect, particularly during hand-to-hand combat. It was then that the two-meter tall Shalothan warriors would summon flames to cover their bodies as they approached their enemies. Much of the effect was psychological, although there was no doubt the flame itself would do damage to an enemy should he, she, or it become exposed to the fire.
As a result of their ability, and the continuing practice of it, Shalothans had a unique smell about their species – that of burned keratin. The more a Shalothan practiced this ability, the more it burned their keratin skin, thus generating the odor and further blackening the keratin. The benefit was the keratin always grew back thicker and stronger, unless the being was sick or infected. This smell, mixed with the incense that the priest caste members were constantly burning, created sickening odors for other species, which added to the repulsion that many felt for the Shalothans.
Realizing that it was nearing the end of his standard wake period, Radael walked over to his solution bath and pressed a combination of buttons on the console to start the process for mixing the calcium-based bath. The bath wasn’t a necessity, but aided the body in regenerating any damaged keratin sections and promoted growth of new ridges. The bath lasted the entire sleep period, with the user wearing a breathing apparatus while sleeping in order to fully immerse one self into the bath. Radael told himself he would think through the reports as he lie in his bath, but as soon as he settled in, darkness quickly took hold as he was overcome with sleep.

The various species within the primary system of the Fe-Ruq sector were one of the most diverse systems within the known universe. With its empire stretching over twenty-two systems, the Fe-Ruqians were encapsulated by various species indigenous to the multitude of planets within the systems that comprised the sector. In the primary system of Fe-Ruq, there was Je-Fin; originally settled as an early human colony, it had grown throughout the millennia to become one of the galaxy’s largest planet-bases. The human population that had accompanied the colony establishment on early Je-Fin had ballooned throughout the centuries to become the largest human population within any system.
Beyond Je-Fin, there were other unique worlds that had added to the diversity of the primary system of the Fe-Ruq sector. The species on Feu-Jegt were advanced in their intellect, and had been a highly integral part of the development of the military. They had been the first species to exhibit any sign of interdimensional manipulation. It was their breakthrough in this technology that laid the foundation for the first versions of the early full-ship cloaking device. The species themselves were humanoid in form, with large black eyes, with exceptionally thin, frail bodies. Their grayish skin tone was a hallmark of the species, and their overall body type had become the face of aliens on the planet Earth.
Another species that had assisted with developing the system was the Crawf, from the planet Egara. These beings were smaller in stature than human beings, but what they lacked in height they made up for in technological skill. It was a Crawf droid that became the first to use its artificial intelligence to successfully command a sentient being battalion. It was said the droid’s ability to translate and speak in any language, as well as its technical warfare solutions software, provided it the means to succeed. After that initial breakthrough, Crawf droids became heavily relied upon as warfare technical operations specialists and were permanent fixtures on every Fe-Ruq military class starship.
The Fe-Ruq military commanders huddled in their war operations facility, reviewing all the information they had access to. The event that had occurred at the parade ground was disturbing, and no scientific basis for explanation had come to light as of yet. General Ardos Odine had ordered his security staff to elevate all the in-system planets to highest alert, wary that this entire event may have been a precursor to some sort of attack by the Shalothans. Odine didn’t see it as an overreaction when he decided to heighten the alert level. He knew all too well what the Shalothans were capable of, and would not have been surprised to learn that this was a preemptive strike against the morale of his troops.
The troops that had been at the parade ground that day had all been taken to a remote base on Je-Fin, debriefed, and then reassigned off planet to various units. The purpose of the exercise was to ensure that pockets of his soldiers would not be unduly affected by any such attack. If they were, taking them off-world and reassigning them so each were in different units would help defuse any potential uprising or breakdown of command through a mutinous action. The risk involved was that each soldier now had access to an entirely new group that had not been present, and would be able to relay the story. The debriefing was supposed to prevent that type of activity from occurring, but Odine was willing to bet his rank that at least one soldier would tell his story. It was only a matter of time before the rumors began floating around.
To complicate matters, Odine knew that the United Space Federation had spies in-system, if not on Je-Fin itself. He could only assume that they were aware of the event, and would be sending an observation unit to watch for any activity that could be deemed threatening. He also assumed that some form of an intelligence unit from the Shalotha system had been in-system during the event. With the truce being tenuous at best, it would have been foolhardy for the Shalothans to not have some type of reconnaissance unit within the system.
Ardos sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together, bringing his index fingers to together to form a point. He absent-mindedly tapped the two fingers against his chin while he thought through the possible chain of reactions resulting from the event.
As his intelligence staff saw it, the most logical view was to assume the Shalothans were behind it. It was a Christian themed attack, and the deeply Christian Shalothans were keenly aware that most of the species within the borders of the Fe-Ruq sector were atheist. Also, the Fe-Ruq military outlawed practicing faith for any enlisted individual or officer of the military.
Some of his personal advisors had another point of view. One suggested the USN had possibly initiated the event in hopes that it would push the Fe-Ruqians into an assault on the Shalothans, thereby violating the truce agreement. With the violation, the USN forces could launch ‘peace’ campaigns against the Fe-Ruq sector, all in the name of protecting the greater good of the galaxy. Many members of the Fe-Ruq Parliament felt that the USN had stood to gain the most out of the truce, and may be waiting for an opportunity to seize more worlds and assets from the Fe-Ruq system. Trade sanctions were already in place for several of the outlying systems, and the economic impact had slowly crept to the core of the system, draining the life out of the once-wealthy sector.
To Ardos, the USN forces were no better than the Shalothans. The Christian Shalothans waged war based on religious faith; the USN waged war based on self-righteous beliefs that they were the protectors of the galaxy and all systems within it. The Fe-Ruq system would benefit greatly to have both of these entities wiped out of the galaxy.
He looked out the window of his office across the sprawling complex and beyond. He could see the tiny dots of aircraft against the roiling black clouds of an impending storm. Several patrol squadrons were flying routes around the area in an attempt to keep sentry against any enemy intrusion. He could make out the deadly forms of the new Fe-Ruq variable wing suborbital fighter, code-named Devilspear. Beyond the clouds he knew that several orbital battle stations were on alert for craft entering on hyperspace threads or through dimensional drops. Past those orbiting stations, three fleets complete with support vessels had been recalled to Je-Fin. They were summoned to the planet partly to take on the reassigned soldiers, but also as hastily prepared stopgap support against any impending invasion forces.
General Odine swiveled his chair around to face his data tablet. Something was gnawing at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite figure out what was bothering him. He tapped the screen a few times to cycle through an identification screen, then logged onto part of the intelligence network. He pulled up the surveillance videos from the day of the event, scanning the initial moments frame by frame.
He almost clicked past the part showing the beginning of the bright light when he caught a glimpse of something on one of the camera shots. He digitally enhanced the photo, then switched through the other cameras to see if they had picked up the same angle. Frustrated that only one camera captured what he was looking at, he tapped a button on the secure communication console on his desk and ordered his intelligence staff to his office immediately. Within ten minutes, several of the staff were inside his office, and several others were on their way from other parts of the base.
“I want each of you to take a look at this,” he ordered. He pointed to a digitally enhanced picture that had been magnified several hundred times. The picture was of what appeared to be light glinting off something metallic or glass. He tapped the screen to reduce the magnification, which revealed that the location of the glint was within a tree cluster that bordered the pavilion outside the parade grounds.
“Have any of you reviewed this and determined what this was?” He looked around questioningly at each of the officers there. One officer stepped forward and saluted.
“Sir, I have reviewed that section of film, and I felt that it was insignificant in the context of the event. There was no projection light coming from that direction, nor were there any individuals there, based on the thermal scans of the area prior to the event and immediately after.
General Odine sucked in on his cheeks and narrowed his eyes at the officer.
“Insignificant you say?” Odine asked. He looked around the room at each of the officers, then let his gaze return to the officer that had spoken.
“What is your name, soldier?”
“Lieutenant Aemel Wolfus, sir,” the officer replied.
Without saying a word, the general pushed a button located beneath his desk, revealing a small hand blaster. He quickly pulled the weapon from beneath the desk and shot the officer in the center of his forehead.
“Officer Wolfus, I believe I just made your life insignificant.” He pointed to two junior officers who stood to the side with shock written on their faces. “You two, get this carcass out of here. As for the rest of you, I want a thorough search of this tree cluster immediately, with a report back on my desk in six hours. And, in case anyone here is not clear on the matter, nothing is insignificant when it comes to the safety and sovereignty of the Fe-Ruq sector. I want to know what caused that glint. Dismissed.”
The officers all saluted and quickly retreated out of the room. Within minutes, a cleaning droid arrived to clean the mess up off the wall and floor. General Odine looked back out the window, where the first drops of the storm were starting to collect on the window. Insignificant, he thought. What a poor choice of words.

Captain Pollard found the assigned landing area for her shuttle and briskly walked over to the waiting area. The shuttle had already landed and was releasing various pressurized gases out of the rear exhaust ports. The shuttlecrafts were not particularly sleek machines, built more for function than form. Almost rectangular, the shuttle featured a hatch on both the port and starboard sides of the craft for more flexible docking connections in space. The front of the vessel was mostly covered with outdated heat shield plates to protect the nose of the craft from the heat generated by the numerous atmospheric re-entries each day. A small strip of a transparent alloy used for the viewshield bisected the face of the craft, and wrapped around the corners of each side, allowing the pilot to have limited visuals to both sides of the craft. The engines were quite small, having only suborbital and limited spaceflight ability. The antigravity unit was the smallest available from AeroFlight Corp, allowing more space for the passengers and crew. The passengers themselves had individual chairs with data ports for contacting awaiting ships or contacting individuals waiting on orbital stations.
Above the cacophony of the flight deck, a new sound rang out from a box near the painted outlines of the landing dock, warning individuals to back away from the vessel until the shuttle doors were completely open. A bottom lip unfolded from just above the bottom of the craft, and then the rest of the door swung upwards on hydraulics, creating a slight hissing noise.
Two other officers arrived in the waiting area near Captain Pollard as the door touched the deck, and she returned the salutes of both junior officers. A green light just to the right of the door blinked on, indicating it was safe to approach. Seeing the light, Captain Pollard walked forward, stepping on the ramp and into the craft in a few steps.
After a slight delay in boarding, the shuttle lifted off uneventfully, rising above the deck on its antigrav engines, and swinging slowly outwards until it was clear of the immense hangar. Facing the forward viewshield, Captain Pollard watched as the entire expanse of the United Space Federation’s Navy headquarters complex migrated into her viewing area. The flight hangar itself was larger than four training arenas sitting next to one another, and the surrounding support complexes sprawled for miles. Above the flight hangar was the office spire that she had had her meeting in earlier that day. Beyond the support complexes were several other large modern buildings containing more offices and living quarters for the officers stationed at the base. Low-lying clouds prohibited her from seeing beyond that, but she knew from previous visits that the entire base covered more square miles than many large cities on the planet. Between living quarters for the families of the officers and crews, dry docks for fleet vessels, weapons manufacturing plants, fuel refineries, a sister base for Marines, and various governmental agency buildings, the city-base contained more than three million people.
Picking up speed, the ship engaged its orbital engines and rocketed towards a flight pattern in low orbit. The clouds dropped away from the shuttle, and the bright blue sky turned to dark blue, and finally to black as the ship broke through the atmosphere. Angelina watched as multitude of stars quickly gave way to the enormous orbital station that crept into the viewshield. The orbital station itself was over three kilometers long, and featured over fifty docking berths, not counting the reserve docks for the shuttle. As she watched, docked ships crept into view as others slid underneath the station as it rolled in place. She leaned forward in her seat, trying to pick out the Alaurian Spirit among the docked ships. The ships were attached at various points along the station, resembling lampreys attached to their host. Dock numbers were stenciled in large military block by each hatchway, and the viewshield heads-up display switched on automatically once the ship came within a few kilometers of the station. The HUD listed the dock numbers and ship identifications in an overlay that matched the view from the pilot’s seat. Ship-to-surface shuttles were assigned to reserve docks, and Angelina could see the cluster of like shuttles gathered at one end of the station’s spindly docking arms. The pilot locked onto the assigned arrival dock and switched to autocontrol to guide the ship into the port. Within minutes Angelina was slightly jarred in her seat as the craft attached itself to the mouth of the dock. The dock receptacle formed a seal around the flat side of the shuttle, and allowed the shuttle to open its door in an air lock. The pilot waited until the pressure sensor on the door control switched to green and the ping indicating a secure seal chimed.
The ramp swung down as the hatch swung up, and Angelina stepped out of the craft with the other officers, walking to their respective destinations. She stepped out of the air lock passageway and into the bustling corridor. Throngs of people walked by in either direction, heading to various spots in the station. This particular corridor ran the length of the station, and supplied access to all of the docks on this side of the station. In either direction down the corridor, air lock lights located above the pressure doors were yellow, green or red, depending upon the status of the dock. Green meant the ship was docked, air lock and doors open. Yellow meant the ship was either still pressurizing after having just attached to the air lock seal, or depressurizing to separate from the station. Red meant the dock was empty, and the air lock was closed and locked. Many of the shuttles in the reserve docks were just arriving from various points on the planet. As a result, the multitude of lights in the reserve docks were quickly shifting from an equal division of red and green to a majority of the latter.
Hoping to beat the rush of incoming passengers, Angelina stepped up her pace and headed towards the central access corridor that would take her deeper into the station. She stopped at an information kiosk and pulled up the information on the berth of the Alaurian Spirit. The latest update showed that it was docked in B-41 on the other side of the station. Taking a mental note of the station schematic that popped up on the screen and showed her the route to the B dock corridor, she canceled her request on the kiosk screen and started out towards B dock.


Chapter III

Refreshed from a pleasant sleep period, Radael Asalor felt healthy and invigorated, and decided to start his day with some exercise. He walked across his chamber and put on a combat tunic and sandals, then walked to the chamber entry and touched a combination of keys on the panel imprint on the wall. The door slid open, and two of his personal guards stood at attention, awaiting his command.
“Summon Commander Apxlus, and have him meet me in the training arena in the annex. I’ll be awaiting his arrival.”
Radael dismissed the one guard so he could summon Apxlus. He motioned towards the other to indicate he wanted an escort downstairs. As they walked down the white marble spiral staircase, Radael took in the view. His chamber was at the top of an atrium within the Primary Palace. The spiral staircase was the only way up to or down from the chamber. The staircase spiraled up from a lush courtyard, which had several tiered sections that provided isolated spots for private conversations among the many visitors to the palace. The atrium itself was covered with a transparent metallic alloy that provided a clear view of the sky and surrounding trees, but protected the courtyard from the dangerous storms that could develop on Shalotha.
The Primary Palace was much more than just the residence of the most powerful being in the System Republic of Shalotha. The Palace was also the residence of several other key government officers, as well as the central meeting location for members of the Imperium, the planetary government on Shalotha. Because of its high visibility and accessibility, hundreds of members of the warrior caste were permanently stationed at the Palace as a garrison. Warriors could be seen in almost every conceivable location within the palace, whether it was the cookery, or the outer vestibule leading into his office, or the training arena locker rooms in which the Primary was a regular visitor. The only place the Primary was permitted out of sight of a warrior was in his personal chamber.
As the Primary, Radael Asalor held dual roles. His main role was as the leader of the Shalotha system, an eleven-planet system that was based on the largest and most populated of the planets, Shalotha. In this function he represented the entire sector when working with neighboring sectors such as the Fe-Ruq, Otine, and Aormy.
His secondary role, yet just important, was as a spiritual guide for his people. Following the ancient teachings, the Shalothans believed in God and all that He represented. They believed that He had sent His only Son to the universe some time ago, and they believed that He would soon announce His return. The guidance the Primary provided was akin to a high priest in other religions. Holding this position was a convenience for the Primary, as it allowed him to give directives to his fellow Shalothans under the premise of being a religious act when the governmental rule seemed to be inappropriate.
The event on Je-Fin was an example of when it was a blessing to hold both positions. As the spiritual Primary, he would decide for his congregations whether to believe the Son of God had indeed returned. It was his voice, his guidance, which they all would follow.
As the governmental Primary, he would be the one to decide when or if the warrior caste needed to be deployed in the name of God. It was his decisions that kept the System Republic from another Civil War, and his decisions that had propelled his constituents into the interstellar war.
In short, he could either lead them to salvation from his religious position, or lead them to damnation with his government position. He preferred the former to the latter, if only because he himself was a very strong believer.
Radael and his guard arrived at the arena, and the Primary ordered his guard to stay outside the entrance. He walked through the training doors and surveyed the arena. Several tiers of seats circled the round training field. Entrances to a medical room and locker rooms were off to the right. Wall mounts holding the various training weapons were fastened to a section of wall on his left. He glanced around to see if Apxlus had arrived yet; he had not. The Primary walked over to the training weapons and selected a long staff. Adjusting his tunic, he walked to the center of the arena and turned to face the entrance.
In short time, the door opened, and a large Shalothan entered through the door. Battle scarred keratin armor covered the body of the warrior, and the red and black bandolier that he sported signified that he was a commander within the warrior caste. The warrior stopped just inside the door and scanned the interior of the building. He quickly saw his foe standing in the center of the arena.
“Reaz Apxlus, son of Patharhu, select your weapon and advance.” Radael stood still as he spoke, forcing his voice into a deeper tone. He watched Apxlus, and thought he saw him smile slightly.
Apxlus walked over to the training weapons wall, never taking his eyes off his opponent. He reached for a small shield and took it off the wall. Holding it with one hand, he flung it across the arena floor towards his opponent.
“Take the shield, Primary. You shall need it today!” Apxlus ran across the arena floor at full tilt. Radael was caught off guard by the thrown shield. He hesitated for a moment, deciding whether he should stand and defend himself with just the staff, or use the shield that Apxlus had thrown at him. Before he could decide, Apxlus was upon him, only a few meters away. Radael threw his staff up in self-defense as his opponent neared, causing Apxlus to slow to a halt. He twirled the staff slowly in front of him with both hands, never taking his eyes off the commander. He started to circle to his left slowly, trying to maneuver his opponent out of position. Apxlus rotated to his left as well, keeping the same distance between the Primary and himself. As he neared the shield on the ground, he took a slight step back, putting himself in line with the shield as he continued to circle with his opponent. Just as it appeared he would step past the shield, in one deft motion he stomped on the upturned curved edge of the shield, flipping it up into the air, then caught it with his left hand and flung it overhand at his opponent. Radael had not expected this, and narrowly deflected the shield with the staff. The shield had barely touched his staff when Radael realized he had just made a costly mistake. Apxlus was already in close quarters, grabbing the staff with his left hand and pulling it towards him. At the same time he thrust the heel of his right hand into the jaw of Radael, knocking him away from the staff and causing Radael to stagger backwards. The Primary had barely caught his balance before the staff in Apxlus’ hands swung down in an arc and into the back of his knees, knocking him to the ground. Radael quickly rolled to his right, and jumped up, only to receive an open hand smack into his throat, grabbing hold at the same time. Instinctively his hands reached for the arm attached to the hand seemingly attached to his throat. Before his grip could be secured, a leg snaked around Radael’s leg and the hand around his throat forced him backwards, causing him to fall over his opponent’s leg. The viselike grip did not ease as he landed on his back with a thud. Instead, the smiling visage of Reaz Apxlus came into view, lips curled back showing sharp teeth.
“You would be receiving your Judgment from God, should you have been a real foe Primary,” Apxlus snarled. He released his grip on the Primary’s throat and offered a hand to help him up.
“Good morning Apxlus,” Radael said smiling. He rubbed his throat slightly, still feeling the blood circulating near the hand imprint. Apxlus gathered the shield as Radael went to pick up the staff. “I am close to a decision about the situation on Je-Fin. I wanted your counsel before I make the final decision.” Radael waited until the commander had turned his back towards him, and then darted towards Apxlus with the shield out in front of him. Apxlus reacted instantly. In one fluid motion he twirled to his left with his stiffened left arm outstretched to block a blow from Radael, while the kinetic energy from his movement carried the rest of his body around behind his attacker. The block shifted Radael’s weight to his right, unsettling his balance. Apxlus’s dropped to a crouch and initiated a leg sweep, knocking Radael to the ground again.
“You are louder than a thundering herd of jettalons, Primary. It is good for your health that you are a politician, and not a warrior.” Apxlus towered over the Primary, waiting for any sign of attack. Seeing none coming, Apxlus again offered his hand to help the Primary to his feet. Radael took his hand and pulled himself up. He took the shield from the ground and reached for the staff from the commander. Taking the weapons back to where he had taken them from, the Primary motioned for the warrior to walk with him.
“Apxlus, the Republic has come to a crossroads in our existence. We have hurt ourselves with civil war, and further damaged our standing across the galaxy with the wars that we’ve waged. And for what gain? Many of our cities still lie in ruin. Our warrior clans are decimated. Our enemies hate us even more now than they did a century ago. We have no allies at this time in history. Everything that has happened to us, we have brought upon ourselves. Yet, our faith has persevered through all of these troubles. Like the ancients of old, we’ve held onto our faith, knowing that one day our Savior would return.” Radael paused as he placed the weapons back into their spots on the wall. He turned to face Apxlus, who continued to listen silently.
“Apxlus, as my most trusted commander, I need your absolute best assessment on what I’m about to suggest. Pay no heed to concerns about political issues. Listen as a Christian, not as a warrior.” Radael paused again to see if the Shalothan standing in front of him had anything to say.
“The event at Je-Fin can be interpreted one of several ways. The most common is that it’s a strategy with the goal of enticing us back into the Fe-Ruq system for an ambush. The other is that this is indeed the first of many signs of the return of our Savior. Do you agree with this assessment?” Apxlus nodded agreement, but said nothing.
“Apxlus, my personal belief, based on the intelligence that we have today, is that this is not a military tactic. With that said, I do not think that having our Savior on the world of Je-Fin is the best situation possible for all involved. He has returned for His thousand-year rule. To believe in Christ is to believe that we are His army. Could this sign be His attempt to call His army to Him? What if Je-Fin is the world that He in all His wisdom has decided to return on? How would the Fe-Ruqians react? I don’t believe that they will be welcoming Him with open arms, do you? But more importantly, if word of this event were to spread through our system, what effect would it have on our people? If He were to skip over our planet, and appear at a sworn enemy, an enemy opposed to Christianity, wouldn’t at least some of our people begin doubting their faith? The solution to all of these problems brought me to the decision that I want your assessment on. I need you to bring the Savior to our planet when He arrives, wherever He arrives, and do it under concealment. His arrival needs to be announced as if it were originally on Shalotha, for the good of our people for their faith will be strengthened. His arrival needs to be announced on Shalotha because His arrival anywhere else strengthens the views of our foes that we are too self-righteous. And lastly, His arrival needs to be announced as being on Shalotha so that all in the galaxy will understand that we are His chosen warriors, the army of God that will cleanse the universe and pave the way for Christ’s one thousand year rule. Apxlus, tell me your thoughts on what I have just said.”
Apxlus looked at his Primary for a moment, lost in thought about what he had just been told. In Shalothan philosophy there was always an absolute right and wrong. This situation presented neither, as each potential solution, including the Primary’s, had significant drawbacks.
“Primary, your wisdom in this manner is beyond any reproach. I agree with your decision, although I caution that the other advisors will not come to agreement with you on this. They could leak information to the masses, exposing what actually happened, to further certain individual beliefs that you should not be the Primary any longer. They could warn the Fe-Ruqians, allowing them to forestall any attempt to enter their system and assist the Son of God off the planet. Worse, they could release information to the galaxy revealing your plans to kidnap the Son of God. Christian based faith or not, other systems would not look at us favorably in light of the information. We have everything to gain from your decision, yet I caution that we have everything to lose. Your excellency, I will do thy bidding as you command.” Apxlus bent down to one knee before the Primary. His use of the word ‘excellency’ signified that he was recognizing Radael as his high priest in this manner, not his political chief.
“Apxlus, you will gather a small force, number to be determined by you. I need not tell you what qualities they must have. You will plan entry into the system, plan for assisting Him offworld, and plan an exit strategy out of the sector, all before the time He arrives. I doubt it will be much longer, so time is truly of the essence in this manner. All of your current duties will be reassigned to other warriors under the auspices that you have fallen ill. You have access to all of the information that you need. Inform me of the starship that you wish to use, and I will see that it is fully operational and conveniently loaded for the mission when you are ready. My efforts and involvement will be minimal and secretive, as they must. If this plan is discovered, you and your men will be acting as a rogue bunch, without direction from any higher authority. Even upon successful completion, details of this mission must never be leaked. You will need to do whatever is necessary with your men to ensure that the details are not slipped during conversation, or even handed down in generational stories. The people of Shalotha, the system, and the galaxy can never know of our tactics. Do you understand the implications of that statement?” Apxlus certainly understood. For all but himself, this would be the final mission for these warriors. Without their knowledge, he would make them martyrs for the cause, either directly or indirectly. The absolute in this decision was that Apxlus was responsible for ensuring that these warriors could never speak about the mission again. It was a task he did not want, but understood it was needed for the greater good. He would have to choose his group wisely.
Radael turned on his heel and left the training arena, motioning for his guard as he walked out of the door. Apxlus waited for a few moments, and then followed the same exit path out of the arena. He looked up at the sky and took in the warmth emitting from the dual suns, then headed for the building his chamber was in.

It had been five hours and fifty-six minutes since General Odine had ended the life of Officer Wolfus and sent his intelligence team out on a mission for answers. It had been a long six hours for the General. He continued to review the events, searching for other clues that could lead him to a more scientific answer to what happened. After all, according the event to a theological origin would be akin to forfeiting his life. He would not last the day in office were he ever to suggest that the event was truly the supernatural announcement of some deity.
The communication device on his console beeped, and General Odine accepted the call.
“General, Major Tunrak reporting with results from our search. Sir, it appears that we were being spied on.” The general sat back slightly, interested to hear of this development.
“Sir, the reflection that we saw on the video is from the lens of a recording device that had been planted in one of the trees within the cluster. The unit appears to be controlled remotely, and self-destructed when one of my men attempted to examine it at a closer distance. A forensics team is on location now, and will be removing the remaining pieces for investigation and review. Awaiting further orders, sir.” Thunder boomed in the background as the officer was reporting.
“Assemble teams to search every tree and bush within the area surrounding the grounds. We need to find out just how many of these units there are, and how many are currently operational. Report after the entire area has been searched.” With that the general clicked off the communication console, and sat back in his chair. This would not look good for his career. His headquarters under surveillance by an opposing force, probably the very force that they had been at war with. Too many questions were unanswered. How long had it been there? Was it operational at the time of the event? Who was receiving the information? Was that person or persons on-world to receive, or did the unit transmit back to a surface based deep-space relay unit that sent the information out of the system? He would need to find these answers quickly, before any information obtained from the device could be used against them.

McDonald’s had been Christian Franklin’s first choice at employment when he turned sixteen. Many of the people he had come to call friends worked there, and it was a decent paying job considering the job market. More than minimum wage, it was enough money for him to save for dates or the latest Playstation games, and still have some left over to fix his car when it failed.
He really enjoyed the crew he worked with. Some were friends from high school; others were teammates on his high school baseball team. Others, such as Katie, were from a different high school, but still part of the group of people he considered his friends. But if there was one person that he looked forward to seeing each day at work, it was Katie Anderson. A year older than Christian, Katie was mature for her age. Short and petite, with shoulder-length blond hair and brown eyes, she was considered one of the better looking females at her school, let alone the smaller group that worked at McDonald’s. At the restaurant, she was a goddess; the one who earned the stares of the truckers coming in for coffee, and the husbands who stole lustful gazes between mouthfuls of fries.
She was going to graduate at the end of this year, but didn’t have the grades to go onto a big university. She’d already made it known around the kitchen that she was looking to stay in the area and attend the local community college.
He’d only been with McDonald’s since October, but already Christian was feeling like a veteran only two months in. He really looked forward to coming to work on the weekends. He even wore his logo-branded shirt with pride. He had aspirations of becoming a crew-trainer at the restaurant. His manager was very encouraging, and had suggested the opportunity to him several times over the past few weeks. Becoming a trainer meant a slight raise, but anything would help.

The Alaurian Spirit was originally built as a peacetime long-range frigate. The vessel was designed to carry forty people comfortably, but had been modified to support eighteen bio-forms for up to six months without docking. With everything that had happened within the past two years, the ship had been pressed into service as a scout ship with the USN , and was retrofitted with military grade shield-arrays, MCAC multitargeting missiles, and an MERL device.
The Multiple Contact Auto Control was an intelligent weapon system designed to defeat standardized shields. The MCAC would fire multiple missiles within milliseconds of one another, targeted at the same point on a ship’s shields. The first hit would weaken the field as the shield energy dispersed from the impact. The second missile would hit the weakened impact site and break through, striking the actual hull of the ship. It was most effective for long-range attacks, as the target ship would need to be moving fairly slow for the missiles to track and compensate for ship movement and still hit the same points on the shield. Engaged in a dogfight, the MCAC weapons system was merely an ordinary missile array; capable of fast-firing missiles and hoping that one would get through a weakened or damaged shield.
The MERL, or Multiple Energy Radiation Level, device worked as a variable power energy weapon. The weapon’s energy beam could be refracted to a wide beam at weaker power for a broader range of impact, or condensed into a tight beam with extremely high levels of power for a more pronounced effect. A widely accepted practice was to use the broad range capacity in a battle to weaken other ships’ energy fields. The vessel with the MERL would station itself away from the battle and selectively target ships with the beam. The broad range beam would direct constant energy at the target ship’s shields, thereby draining the power from the shields. Other ships in the area would then have free range of their weapons systems, or could board the ship if desired. The tight range beam was widely used for attacking communications vessels and the accoutrements that were located on those ships. Once the communication systems of a battle group were knocked out, the battleships were essentially flying blind when their shields were up. Thus, ships such as the Alaurian Spirit became essential partners in large-scale battles.
The new commander of the ship, Marshall Tennison, was in the middle of his career. Brought up in a military family since birth, he had gone to the Military Space Command Academy with his sights on getting a space command of his own. He had always desired a large command such as the Salient Justice, a Dreadnaught-class battle cruiser that was famous in earlier battles. But time and maturity changed his heart. As he finished his first command on the refueling ship Everlast, he began to realize that the captains of the bigger vessels were merely puppeteers of big, brutish machines that worked best when stationed across from their foe. The captains of those ships didn’t worry about where to aim their MERL, or which angle of attack would give them an advantage over their prey. No, they worried about how fast they could fire their weapons systems, and hope that their shields outlasted those of their foes. It was essentially two heavyweight prizefighters slugging it out without any pretense of avoidance or defense.
With that realization came the desire to be the captain of a smaller, far more nimble ship. He wanted to be able to scout and recon without having a flotilla under his command. He needed a ship that needed his command, not just as a figurehead. A ship that had a small crew with talent to be discovered, not a ship filled with battle droids and military clones. In the end, it was the Alaurian Spirit that found him, not the other way around.

EC: Descent Prologue and new novel title

Hello again. Today finds me hard at work on one of the chapters of the next novel in the ENEMY CALLING series. And, for the first time ever, here is the working title (drum roll please):

ENEMY CALLING: DECEPTION

Ok, it's not fancy, or maybe not even that original. That's why it's a working title. Still a work in progress, however I do believe that it's probably pretty close to the final title. I am adding a sample chapter to the back of the EC:Descent novel for your reading pleasure. Should be a more indepth novel in terms of character development. At least that's what I'm aiming for.

As promised in the last posting, I am going to put up the entire prologue from EC:Descent. That novel should be available on Amazon.com and through special order at your favorite bookstore sometime in late November or early December of 2006. Enjoy!

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Prologue

Lorker Citadel, Je-Fin, Fe-Ruq System, 1500 Local Time

Sergeant Aedge Faerre stood ramrod straight, feet spread shoulder width apart and legs locked at the knees. He held his beam rifle tight across his chest, butt end closer to his right thigh, with the weapon placed diagonally upwards so the business end of the weapon was near the left side of his jaw. All around him, humanoid male and female soldiers of various species all mirrored the same stance. Each faced the same direction in their crimson military uniforms, with polished black boots rising just below the knee where it met black piping that went up each side of the pant legs. The trim continued to the torso as it melded into similar piping that rode up the sides of each soldier’s military jacket. For Sergeant Faerre, it was a beautiful sight to behold.

A light rain was beginning to fall on the parade ground, and the general gray overcast skies had begun to thicken and blacken in the distance. Many of the soldiers in his squad had commented how they should bring their field sack and wear their weather gear instead of their dress reds. It was not an unusual sentiment, taking the planet’s weather patterns into consideration. The senior officers were hoping for merely a dry overcast day, but nature was working against them.

The layer of breathable air enveloping the planet of Je-Fin had long been a haven for strong atmospheric disturbances, from constant squalls and months of rain, to ferocious storms that battered coastal areas with intense lightning strikes. Sunny days weren’t necessarily a rare occurrence on Je-Fin; just so unpredictable that it was difficult to plan for events outdoors without the fear of getting wet. Because of this, many of the outdoor activities were planned for with rain in mind.

The group of senior officers on the dais far ahead of Sergeant Faerre took turns speaking to the assembled soldiers, trying to turn the opening ceremonies of the military exercise into a rally. The one currently speaking was rambling on about the Shalothans, and their religious beliefs, and how great it was to be a part of the Fe-Ruq system, where the truth was evident. There was no god, the senior officer preached. Only evolution. And therefore, the only ones who could protect their planets, their lifestyles, each of their families from the scourges of the galaxy such as the Shalothans would be the soldiers themselves. The speaker was pointing and waving his arms at the assembled group in an animated way, making a feeble attempt to electrify the crowd. Sergeant Faerre heard, but didn’t listen. He knew in his heart there were no such creatures as gods or goddesses, one omnipotent being, one maker of the universe. Logically, if not scientifically, it didn’t make sense. He had known nothing else, so this thought process, this certainty of knowing, was second nature to him, as it was to all of those assembled in the stadium. And it all changed in an instant.

The rambling senior officer was in midsentence when a bright light suddenly filled the sky, blinding all who were present. Sergeant Faerre dropped to the ground, instantly positioning himself in a protective stance, pulling his weapon into firing position. He heard the other soldiers around him dropping to the ground as well, and murmurs rose from whispers to questions as the light continued. He squinted against the searing brightness, trying to see the source of the light. He could feel warmth on his skin, and heard other soldiers asking if anyone else could feel the heat. He began to wonder if it was some new weapon variant. Suddenly a voice boomed across the parade ground:

Behold the Son of God!

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In a few weeks I'll post the first chapter of the EC:Descent novel. Now, for those of you that are cheap and don't want to actually purchase the novel itself, I have a bit of disappointing news for you - I will not be posting the entire novel chapter by chapter. My intention is to post the first three chapters for your perusal, and let you make the decision if you'd like to continue or not. Either way, comments (or rants against my writing) are welcome and appreciated.

See you next time!

Erik

Welcome to the blog for my novel - ENEMY CALLING

Welcome to my blog! I'm currently in the process of finishing the first draft of my first novel. And when I say 'in progress', I really mean I'm too slow - I've been working on this draft since November of 2005.

First, a little about me. I'm an aspiring writer. There you have it. Everything you need to know about me - for now.

The idea of writing a novel was something I had been kicking around for years. I guess you could say that I've always known that I wanted to write sci-fi, but I never found the time, nor had the self-determination to actually get past the first few paragraphs. In 2004 I heard about the National Novel Writing Month website, and thought I'd give it a shot. After all, I thought I knew who my main character would be, and I figured that it would be easy. Unfortunately, I hadn't figured on being pulled away from the keyboard incessantly (all in relation to my 'job' at the time). I reached exactly 213 words before I finally realized that I was just too damn far behind to actually have a chance at making the deadline (50000 words in the month of November). Hence, I waited.

And waited. And October 2005 rolled around. Guess what? I no longer worked for the same company, my schedule was much easier, and I felt more determined to write something. I was a year older, and hopefully wiser, but I still hadn't written much fiction, save the few pieces I was required to do for my last comp class in college. It seemed a daunting task as I approached the November 1st start date.

Midnight hit after I took Grace (my daughter) trick-or-treating, and I began writing immediately. Here's where I explain how and what I'm doing. I had an idea for a story, and I knew it wouldn't fit in 50000 words. But the whole point of doing the NaNoWriMo is to force yourself to work under a deadline, which is EXACTLY what I needed (especially if you know who I am typically). I thrive under deadlines and in crunch time situations for work, so this would (hopefully) enable me to finally make some progress on my first novel (or novella, depending on the final word count). So I began writing gibberish. Not random typing on the keyboard, but pure, unadulterated, unfiltered, unedited crap. I started with what I thought would be the final chapter in the story (which it isn't), and went from there. I figured that every time I had attempted to write before, I always started with the first words of the story, and I always ended up stuck a short time later. My 'brilliant' idea was to start with the ending, and backfill the story from there (only later did I learn that several successful writers actual work their novels this way...hmmm). I began writing like a madman those first few hours in the early hours of November 1. And as the clock approached 4:00am, I did a word count in MS Word, and saw my gaudy word totals from my first 3.5 hours of typing - 1664. Needless to say, my immediate reaction was "oh crap!", followed by a hasty math calc to find out if I was trending towards making the 50K mark. Guess what? I needed to average around 1725 per day to get the minimum numbers for the NaNoWriMo criteria, and I was already behind on Day 1. Luckily for me, I still had the remainder of Nov 1 to finish writing. I decided after that initial panic not to even worry about word counts anymore. (I did reach the 50k goal by the way, with about 2k to spare.)

So that brings us to the "what's it about" part. Here's where I'm going to cheat a bit. I have the draft of the backpage cover material for my book, which is what anyone on Amazon.com will see as well:

Rumors out of the atheist Fe-Ruq system allege that the Son of God has appeared on one of their military planets. The Shalothans, followers of Christ and a constant threat to the Fe-Ruqians, plan a covert mission to return Christ to their home world. Meanwhile, the United Space Navy, long an intermediary in galactic conflicts, receives intelligence regarding the planned rescue attempt, and launches itÂ’s own interdiction mission in hopes of preventing a conflict that could escalate into another galactic war. ItÂ’s a race against time to reach the Son of God.

There you go. The summary of the story, short and sweet.

I'm currently in final editing mode, and will be submitting the finalized work to the publisher this month. The expected date of release for the book will be in November or early December of 2006. And what a perfect idea for that hard-to-shop-for person on your list!

My next post I'll put up finalized prologue to the story.

Have a great weekend...

Erik