Chapter 130: (Nightmare)

Ship Most High Almo'otan was a high ranking Executor. High enough that he had been considered for the High Executor Council at the tender young age of 125 and had been excepted by the time he was 145. His peers were all still Most Low or Most Moderate, where his skills at negotiation, politics, and his ease at navigating the risks and rewards of the Council membership boards had all combined to get him a seat on the High Executor Council when his peers were still trying to decide who they wanted as their mentor.

Which is why he was in charge of the Demand Answers moving deep into Terran space and his peers would still be trying to decide which mentor they wanted to choose to help guide them through the current moderate unpleasantness.

The Demand Answers was the most advanced ship that the Executor Council had authorized in over eight million years. Loaded with technology forbidden to non-Lanaktallan species, the ship had advanced scanners, armor that far outstripped durasteel, shields powerful enough to deflect a comet, and engines that reached up into the higher bands of jumpspace that were forbidden for all other races. The entire crew was Lanaktallan, Executors and Executor Security Forces. The crew had largely been replaced by automation, which allowed a lean crew completely dedicated to the task, without worrying about any defectors.

While he had launched with First Wave, he was far deeper into Terran space than anyone else had ever managed to penetrate. His mission was simple: Move through the Great Gulf and moving into system after system to make scans and then move on, skirting the edge of Terran Space to see what kind of defenses they had on the inner systems. They would move at an angle to the First Wave. Where the First Wave would move anti-coreward along the edge of the Great Gulf, Amo'otan would move coreward and skirt the areas there.

After travelling further than any Lanaktallan ever had, the Demand Answers had finally left jumpspace deep into Terran Confederate Territory, so coreward that it skirted the edge of the galactic arm stub. The system was a strange one. While there were Terran Confederacy beacons, there was no sign of any habitation. A neutron star with no planetary bodies slowly drifted through the blackness. There was no Oort Cloud, no asteroid belts, no scorched and forgotten planets drifting around the star.

Just a single beacon that transmitted into jumpspace.

One of the Terran tricks that the Unified Science Council insisted was impossible but the Executor Council knew could be done.

Another reason to destroy the Terrans. Before their technology unbalanced the careful balance of the Unified Civilized Council.

Long range scanners, trained on the beacon, merely showed an odd bubble hanging off the surface of the neutron star, just far enough to stay in orbit as the station whirled around the dead star.

Now the Demand Answers was moving in-system. It had taken nearly three days to get close enough for the powerful mid-range scanners to give back any readings.

Just the bubble, the beacon, and now, proof there was some kind of mass inside the bubble.

The short range scanners returned nothing but proof the bubble was there and that something was inside of it, that the beacon was powered from inside the bubble.

Almo'otan stood silently on the bridge, staring at the bubble. It looked like oil, with rippling distortions across it like rainbows sliding around.

"We'll have to move into the bubble," Most High Scanner Technician Gu'ulgian said.

"Launch a probe," Amo'otan ordered. "Set it to skim the inner side of the bubble and come back out. We'll download the data from it when it exits.

"As you command," Gu'ulgian replied. He tapped on his board. "Probe launched."

There was silence on the bridge. None of the fidgeting, fighting, talking, or mumbling that the other races indulged in, even the jumped up neo-sapients admitted to the Civilized Races.

The made Amo'otan snort slightly as he put in a wad of cud. It had taken tens of millions of years to gentle those races and they thought their admittance to the Unified Civilized Species made them equal to the Lanaktallan, who had guided those races since the end of the Lanaktallan/Mantid War.

Just the knowledge that the Mantid had survived had rocked the Lanaktallan of the Executor Council, who had been the sole possessor of the knowledge of that great war.

Well, not much of it. Data was lost of the millions of years, but there was enough to know that the Mantids were the enemy long thought destroyed.

And any species that crushed the Mantids the Executors took seriously. As far as Amo'otan was concerned, the Terrans had done more than just defeat them, more than just crushed them.

And that made the Terrans dangerous as far as the Executors were concerned.

It took nearly 30 minutes for the probe to exit the other side. It was interrogated, downloaded, and then destroyed via remote self-destruct.

The Most High Scanning Technician looked over the results from the probe and shook his head.

After a few moments Gu'ulgian looked at Most High Amo'otan.

"I have a report, Ship Most High," Gu'ulgian stated.

"Then begin," Amo'otan said, making sure the bridge recorders showed him in his best angles.

"The station is covered in durachrome, which will resist all our scanners. It has multiple beacon, lit observation ports and warning lights, so it has power. The central bulb of the station is attached to eight docking arms. Three of those arms are heavily damaged, two are empty, and three have ships of different types attached, with all three ships possibly being damaged," Gu'ulgian said, throwing the scans up on the board. "The artificial gravity generator has kept some debris orbiting the station, some debris collected. The ships are all, well, definitely Terran but of unknown design, you know how Terrans are."

Amo'otan nodded slowly, inflating his crests in agreement. Terrans seemed to abhor uniformity in their vessels.

"Additionally, there's seven different communications that began within a few minutes of the probe entering the bubble," Gu'ulgian stated. "Three are human females pleading for us to rescue them. One of a human female warning us that this is Terran space and to leave, and the last a Terran male warning us not to board or examine or accept any data transmissions. The last two are data-streams that I am decoding now."

"And what is your opinion of the station?" Amo'otan asked, staring at it. It had been there for quite some time, attracting space dust even that close to the neutron star.

"Judging by the space dust on it, it's been there for nearly 8,500 years. Judging by the scans, all three ships have been there nearly as long. Although one looks as if it docked recently. It is not docked on the docking arms, but rather directly to the hub by an umbilicus. There are multiple scanning arrays as well as equipment I am still working to identify," Gu'ulgian pointed out the barely visible ship. "This is obviously an active research station."

Amo'otan chewed his cud thoughtfully. "I am not here to rescue nor be warned off. Set a course for that bubble. Let us see what is so important that the Terrans hid it all the way out here."

The Most High Navigator nodded, setting the ship into motion.

"Alert the Military Most High that his time has come," Amo'otan said, inflating his crests in pleasure.

The communications Most High tapped the communications icon and the stern muzzled Military Most High answered almost immediately.

Vu'urtunkoo was in his armor, his neural rifle (with additional energy coils) was held tight in his upper two arms. His lower two held a neural pistol and a neural whip, all with additional amperage and wattage to overcome a Terran's natural resistance.

"What?" Vu'urtunkoo asked. He had no time for idle chit-chat. He and his four men had been waiting to hear if they would be using the shuttle, an umbilicus, or doing a space-walk to the Terran station.

"Most High Amo'otan wishes you and your men to get ready. We are heading toward the station and he wishes to board it. All Terrans are to be subdued, as this looks as if it is a research station. All computer and data cores are to be seized. We will take the results of their research and destroy this station," the Communications Most High said.

"It will be done," Vu'urtunkoo stated. He opened a channel to his men. "Set your weapons at low power. We will move up slowly until we discover the power needed to disable humans. The Most High Executor wants them alive."

"Yes, Most High," his men stated.

The ship penetrated the bubble, the station suddenly appearing.

"The bubble appears to be some kind of radiation shielding," The Second Most High Sensor Officer said. "I've detected a 98% decrease in radiation from the neutron star in this area, as well as a 99.95% decrease in ambient radiation and signals."

"A research station indeed. I wonder what they were researching?" Gu'ulgian said, chewing on his cud.

"We will take the data from the Terrans and discover for ourselves," Amo'otan said.

Gu'ulgian looked at the station, up on the main screen. He knew it was just old, he had seen plenty of old stations before, and many of them had been covered in dust. They all got dings and scrapes on their hull, which is why most of them were armored with warship plate. The damage though, it looked as if explosions had destroyed the three docking arms. Two of them were damaged in the arms themselves, one looked as if a ship attached had exploded. He couldn't be sure till they got closer, but it looked like some of the ship was still anchored to the docking arm. The three ships, though. One looked like a warship, complete with weapon turrets and launcher port hatches and thick bulky armor. The other two looked like research ships. One was sleek, the other had antenna and sensors all around it.

But there was something about it.

He looked at the recordings, at the translations. Three of them.

DO NOT COME TO ASSIST. DO NOT APPROACH. STAY AWAY. YOU ARE IN DANGER.

HELP US. COME ASSIST US. WE ARE IN DANGER.

HELP. WE NEED HELP. ANY NEARBY SHIP RESPOND. WE ARE IN DANGER.

BEINGS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. I AM IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. LAST BEINGS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. RENDER ASSISTANCE TO US.

The others were two datastreams. Both were hash, garbled. He knew to be careful with Terran transmissions. They had designed extremely aggressive virtual intelligences that often masqueraded as other types of data packets to invade and attack computer systems. That meant that a being had be extremely careful when decoding Terran datastreams.

One looked like it repeated over and over. It was resisting decoding, a stream of 1's and 0's, that kept twisting and shifting. The other was coming across on what would normally be station data but it looked weird and the computer couldn't decode it.

"The station is extending an umbilical, Most High," the Most High Navigator stated.

"Allow it," Amo'otan stated. "The Terrans might not realize we are an enemy ship. They do not practice uniformity among their vessels. Alert the Military Most High that we will be docking via umbilical."

Vu'urtunkoo bit down on his cud and nodded, squeezing the grips of his weapons. His body armor was fully environmental, plated well enough to even deflect plasma rounds in the 40 watt range.

The umbilical locked in and the lights on the airlock door went green. After a second the door pulled back, revealing the umbilical. Vu'urtunkoo's armor told him the atmosphere was breathable. The oxygen was a little low at 22.65%, but a supplemental tank would do just fine.

With his four men at his back he trotted down the umbilicus.

"Stay together, men. Remember, Terrans are fast, agile, strong, tough, and dangerous. Make sure your psychic shields are on full, Terrans are able to perform psychic assaults," Vu'urtunkoo stated. "They'll resist the first shot or two. Aim for their limbs, their skulls are too thick for neural weapons to be effective. If you can, shoot them in the spine."

His men all signalled assent as they trotted to the end of the umbilicus. The telltales read green and Vu'urtunkoo opened the airlock. The light inside was harsh, white, without any color to it and lit up the airlock. It had ten armored Terran space suits, five on each wall, hanging empty in between heavy tanks, boxes marked with a red cross, boxes marked with a green wrench, and what could only be EVA thruster packs.

He and his men were able to easily fit inside. They cycled the airlock.

"Military Most High, report," came over his suit radio.

"Entering the station now. No apparent damage. No humans. The station has power inside," Vu'urtunkoo answered. The airlock finished cycling, opening up into a round room with passages leading away.

The room was dimly lit, the lights flickering, several of them shooting sparks. Half of the equipment on the walls was smashed, electronics spilling out.

The airlock cycled shut behind Vu'urtunkoo and his men.

"Military Most High, report," came over the suit radio again.

"Interior of the station has sustained damage," Vu'urtunkoo said.

"Spread out, look for the Terrans. They must be there somewhere," Amo'otan stated, staring at the screen. The camera feeds began to fill with static, the screens flickering.

"Communications, increase power to the array, clear those signals," Amo'otan ordered.

"There is something interfering, Most High. I am trying to compensate for it," was the answer.

Amo'otan watched as the video slowly faded to static.

------------------------

The system was one of the most heavily guarded systems in the Unified Civilized Systems. Tens of thousands of warships, millions of troops, all guarding the Executor System. The boundary was thick with beacons and early-warning systems.

The ship appeared on the resonance boundary, dangerously close, within a few hundred miles of it. It kept traveling in-system, engines dead, not responding to any hails or communication. It only broadcast a single message.

WE ARE IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. DO NOT COME TO OUR ASSISTANCE. I AM NEED OF ASSISTANCE. DO NOT COME TO MY ASSISTANCE. DO NOT ASSIST THIS SHIP! MAINTAIN STANDOFF DISTANCE. FLEE THIS SHIP IT IS NEED OF ASSISTANCE. THIS SHIP IS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE TO BE DESTROYED AT STANDOFF DISTANCE. WE ARE IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE.

Two heavy frigates moved to intercept, their marines in armor and ready to board the ship.

Lavu'u was the Most High of the two frigate force and he stared at what his scanning technician had put up on the screen.

It was the Demand Answers, but not as Lavu'u had seen it six months prior.

The entire hull was blackened, rent, twisted, and torn. Both engines were steadily leaking energy in an ever-expanding haze around the ship. No power readings from reactors, just backup batteries, although not even lights were blinking. In some places it looked as if explosions had happened inside the ship, twisting the metal outward from the hull. In other places it looked as if the explosion had been outside the hull, caving in sharp twisted spikes of duralloy.

Lavu'u ordered his subordinate, Ukalka'a, to dock with the ship and send in his Marines.

Long moments passed as they matched velocity with the ship and Ukalka'a found an undamaged airlock. Ukalka'a ordered twenty of his marines to board a shuttle, get close, and go EVA to the ship. They entered the airlock, reporting it cycled perfectly on the backup batteries, and entered.

"No sign of survivors," O'ontara, the Marine Most High reported. "Airlock is damaged. Cycling it now."

More silence, interspersed with crackling.

"Airlock bay shows signs of damage. Atmosphere is weak at eight psi, only 24% oxygen. Looks like plasma small arms in the 40 watt range," O'ontara reported. "Heading toward the bridge now. Will be leaving behind repeaters, there's some serious interference in here."

"Do you see what might have caused it?" Lavu'u asked.

"Negative, Most High," O'ontara reported back. "Got some blood here. Both dried globes and smearing on the floor. Looks like some while they still had artificial gravity and some without."

There was a moment of silence, the cameras completely shot with static.

"Bridge door is operable but the batteries are dead. Using the manual system," O'ontara said. After a moment his voice came back. "The bridge is in bad condition. Looks like only two systems are up. Navigation, oddly enough for this system. The other looks cobbled together and repaired. Moving to examine."

There was silence.

"It looks like some kind of log. Text only right now. There's audio files but..." there was silence for a moment. "It's a log from the Security Most High, he stated they found a Terran research station orbiting a neutron star and..."

It cut out.

The ship vanished, leaving behind the shuttle and the other frigate.

There was silence on the bridge for a moment.

"Get me a jump-trace," Lavu'u snapped.

"It didn't go into jumpspace. It's just gone!" the navigator replied.

"There was no jumpcore power up, Most High," the scan tech said.

"Give me a full scan. We'll search in a pattern. Ships that size don't just vanish," Lavu'u snapped.

Six days of searching turned up no hint of the marines or the Demand Answers.

----------------------

"Where are we?" O'ontara said, coughing as he struggled to his feet.

One moment he had been looking at the bridge logs then it felt like he was being turned inside out. He'd blacked out, waking up on his side.

"Still on the bridge," Ukvo'ok stated, coughing as he got up.

"Sound off," O'ontara coughed. He put his lower hands on the console, leaning on it.

"Ukvo'ok."

"Telmvo'o."

"Shu'ulak."

"Telmvo'o, check on Konta'a," Ukvo'ok said, triggering a stimjet. The amphetamine rushed into his system, clearing away the cobwebs.

Telmvo'o clopped over to the other side of the console and stopped. "Most High," he said, gagging.

"What?" O'ontara asked.

"Most High, you must come see this," Telmvo'o said. He clopped the side and retched.

O'ontara moved around the console, looking down.

Konta'a was lying on the floor, his armor torn apart. His flesh had been savaged, torn and ripped, his guts spilled out on the cold floor the bridge. His head was fleshless, a bare raw bloody skull.

"What could have done that, Most High?" Telmvo'o asked, managing not to throw up.

"I do not know," O'ontara said. He looked out the windows of the bridge.

The ship was connected to a station. A damaged station made of durachrome that was lit up. He could see three tentacles out from the hub, two damaged, one with a damaged ship in the docking ring.

It was Terran make.

"But I'm afraid we may be in Terran space."

------------------

The ship appeared two million miles inside the resonance boundary, moving into the system. No lights shown, just the engines spewing energy in an ever expanding globe around the damaged ship.

It broadcast two messages.

WE ARE IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. DO NOT COME TO OUR ASSISTANCE. I AM NEED OF ASSISTANCE. DO NOT COME TO MY ASSISTANCE. DO NOT ASSIST THIS SHIP! MAINTAIN STANDOFF DISTANCE. FLEE THIS SHIP IT IS NEED OF ASSISTANCE. THIS SHIP IS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE TO BE DESTROYED AT STANDOFF DISTANCE. WE ARE IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE.

DO NO APPROACH IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. LOCATION UNKNOWN. STATUS IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. DO NOT APPROACH.

The System Most High ordered two ships to rendezvous with the ship. To find out what happened to the crew and to the Marines who had boarded it.

A shuttle was sent. Security beings boarded. They found the ship empty, in pristine condition. Engines in working condition, jumpcore functional, atmosphere nominal. The ships computers were empty, wiped, dead. Not even navigation software.

Another boarding crew was sent to pilot the ship back. They reported that the ship was heavily damaged.

It vanished.

Not into jumpspace.

Just vanished.

--------------------

The ship appeared again. On the eve of the Fourth Wave being sent. It appeared halfway between the resonance zone and the star. It broadcast only one message.

DO NO COME TO OUR ASSISTANCE. WE ARE IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE.

The System Most High couldn't risk the ship escaping again, warning the humans of the massive armada poised to destroy them once and for all, that would destroy the final systems and take 20% of their empire away, forcing them to surrender.

He sent 4 ships to intercept the ship. Two frigates, a light cruiser, and a battleship. When they got close enough, they opened fire.

The ship vanished.

-----------------

A month later it arrived again. Broadcasting a single message.

DO NOT COME TO OUR ASSISTANCE. WE ARE IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE.

This time the Executor Most High ordered it boarded again.

The Security crew entered, carrying heavy crates and boxes.

It vanished.

Just as the Most High knew it would.

Which is why he had sent them with an atomic demolition charge.

-----------------

The ship appeared. This time dead. Broadcasting no message.

It cruised through the dead and empty system that had once been the center of the Executor Council's power.

There was no noise but the hissing of the solar winds.

It landed on the second planet from the sun, despite not being built to land in a gravity well. The atmosphere, what little remained, hissed against the hull. When it set down in the blasted radioactive desert that had once been rolling fields where Executor Troops had marched and trained, part of the hull collapsed and was crushed.

It settled into the sand.

And began to broadcast.

WE ARE IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE. DO NOT COME TO OUR ASSISTANCE.