Return to Revein'sev, page 6
“Mister Henderson,” Jed said with a smile, “Get me Captain McCartney.”
“Aye sir,” Lieutenant Henderson nodded, then manipulated his console, “With pleasure, sir. Bristol, Rocinante; I have Admiral Fitz for Captain McCartney.”
“Rocinante, Bristol. This is Lieutenant Scott. Stand by for the captain. Go ahead.”
“Captain McCartney?”
“Admiral Fitz—Jedidiah,” Captain McCartney began, “So good to hear your voice, sir.”
“Welcome to Antares, Captain. I wish we were staying for supper, but we’re not. How soon can you have your jump drive primed and ready?”
“We can be ready when you are, sir.”
“Good. We’re jumping in five minutes.”
“Very well, sir, but may I ask where we’re going?”
“Everywhere and nowhere.”
“That sounds like an interesting trip. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Captain McCartney chuckled.
“All kidding aside, have your nav officer get with Lieutenant Foster. He’ll relay the jump plans over. Then, ensure your nav computers are synced and ready. Bristol, Primrose and the Rocinante are hitting the merry-go-round.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll have Lieutenant Mangini contact Foster, A-SAP.”
“Once our first jump is complete, I’ll have you and the Draconians transport over for a full briefing.”
“Very well, sir. I’ve got a few things to tie up, and we’re leaving in just over two minutes, if my clock is synced up.”
“You are correct, captain. Rocinante out,” then addressed his XO, “Prepare to jump.”
“Start the clock!” Commander Jameson ordered, “Jumping in two minutes!”
Chapter Six
________________________
The Third Moon, Serintin
The Tyrodaconda
________________________
“Prisoner Transport,” the Antarian deck chief began over a comm, “You’re cleared for departure.”
“Acknowledged,” the Antarian transport pilot replied, “Departing Tyrodaconda.”
Zetaal sat two seats behind the pilot with an Antarian guard in front, one next to him and one behind. The noise of the transport engines revving echoed in his ears, “You realizesss, Relegon will execute me!”
The guards remained silent as the pilot lifted up and off the ship’s skids. Spinning to the right, the transport lined up with the exit and began moving forward.
Passing through the shuttle bay exit, the pilot turned and pulled the flight controls up and away from the Antarian flag ship.
“Prisoner Transport,” the pilot called over their comm, “Theta ship, Guardian; prepare for arrival in five ma’na’ta.”
“Very well, we will be ready to receive in five santaros.”
The pilot flew the transport away from the Tyrodaconda and closer to the Guardian. Zetaal gazed out his porthole. Seeing the Rocinante and Primrose leaving orbit and forming up, he turned to one of the guards, “Where doesss Admiral Fitz think he isss going?”
The Antarian guard remained silent as the transport continued approaching Chancellor Relegon’s ship.
Zetaal’s attention turned to the pilot who called the Centaurian ship for landing instructions, “Understood, Guardian. We will enter the landing bay in one ma’na’ta.”
“You are cleared to land,” the Antarian pilot nodded as the Centaurian voice echoed over the crackle of the ship’s radio.
Entering the landing bay, the pilot turned his transport around, pointing the nose toward the exit before lowering the landing skids and set down.
The landing bay pressurized as the guards made Zetaal stand at the door’s exit. Once the green light lit, indicating proper atmosphere within the bay, one guard pressed the door sequence. A burst of steam vented before the outer doors seal broke and slid open.
On the opposite side of the landing bay, double doors slid open revealing a Centaurian military escort with Chancellor Relegon leading the group across the landing bay to the transport.
Zetaal was shoved forward, out of the transport airlock and to the deck as Relegon made his way to them. With his hands shackled in front, Zetaal’s forked tongue slithered in and out from his lips.
“Chancellor Relegon,” Zetaal began, “I must sssay, your lizard ssskin isss, indeed, resssilient. I am sssurprised you sssurvived.”
Relegon opened with, “Captain Zetaal! We meet again. Only thisss time, you are my prisssoner and not my Captain! Guardsss! Take thossse emblemsss off hisss lapelsss at once! He isss no longer a captain, rather captive.”
“The war isss not over, Chancellor! Your downfall will be following thessse humansss and their endeavor to sssave the Antariansss from being eliminated! Oncsse and for all!”
“Take him to a cold cell!”
“You are cruel, Chancellor! Very cruel!”
“Yes, well, you did attempt to assassinate me! I will not put you in an environment conducive to your escape,” Relegon paused, then turned to the lead guard and continued, “The lower the temperature, the better.”
One Antarian guard asked, “What does the cold do to you?”
“Chancellor Relegon wishesss to lower my body temperature enough to forcess me into hibernation ssso I won’t attempt essscape.”
“Yesss, well, thessse thingsss do happen,” Chancellor Relegon argued, “I’m not taking any chancesssss. Take him away!”
The Centaurian guard escorted Zetaal from the hanger bay as Relegon turned to address the Antarian escorts, “Thank you for bringing Zetaal to usss. You mussst depart now.”
The Antarians remained silent, turned and returned to the transport. The door began sliding closed and then vented more steam upon sealing.
Relegon exited the hanger bay, but stopped outside the doors to call his bridge, after depressing a comm button, Relegon ordered, “Captain Zeythea; as sssoon asss the Antarian ssship departsss. Make ready for jump. We’re returning Zetaal to Theta Centauri Prime for trial!”
“Yesss, Chancellor,” Captain Zeythea acknowledged. “Our jump drive isss primed and ready. We are three jumpsss to Theta Centauri.”
“Execute jump when ready, I’m heading to the bridge now. Relegon out.”
The Guardian’s loudspeakers rang out the Theta Centaurian communication officer’s voice as Relegon made his way to the ship’s command center, “Antarian transssport departing… sssecuring landing bay… jump drive isss primed and ready. Courssse ssset to Theta Centauri…”
Entering the Guardian’s command center, Relegon licked his lips with his fork tongue as he stood next to the ship’s captain, “Captain Zeythea: what isss our current statusss?”
Captain Zeythea stood from the command seat, which was raised above the rest of the command crew and stepped down to Relegon’s level.
Relegon stepped up to the raised platform with folded arms, listening to the ship’s captain, “We are ready to depart Antaresss. Zetaal isss sssecured in a holding cell. Admiral Fitz, with the Bristol and Primrose, are moving to a sssafe jump distance and are leaving Antaressss.”
“How many ssshipss are we leaving behind to protect the Antarian energy collector sstationsss?
“We are flying ten dessstroyersss, Chancellor. They are flying with fifteen Draconian war sshipsss.”
“It would ssseem our alliance with the humansss hasss great benefit in essstablishing new relationsss with the Draconiansss.”
“Sssome would argue that the human alliance weakensss our posssition in the galaxy.”
“Captain Zeythea, it would be wissse to hold thossse thoughtsss to yourssself.”
“They are not my thoughtsss, Chancellor. I am only informing my Chancellor of the issuesss among even our own crew.”
“Are you sssaying we have Zetaal ssympathizersss onboard and if ssso, who?”
“There are likely Zetaal ssupportersss aboard. There will be no way to identify anyone who isss. Ssso, my warning mussst be given to you. Do not walk the sship’sss corridorsss without your mossst trusssted guardsss.”
“You believe there are thossse on thisss ssship that will try an execute me?”
“There isss a dissstinct posssibility, Chancellor, yessss.”
“Jumping to firssst coordinatesss in five santarosss—,” the ship’s navigator counted, “four—three—two—one—jumping!”
The Guardian flew across several light years in less than three seconds, coming to normal speeds, the captain growled an order, “Posssition report!”
“Ssscanning sssector now,” the tactical officer’s voice hissed his answer. “No contactsss; the sssector is clear, captain.”
“How sssoon before our next jump?” Chancellor Relegon asked.
“Two ssantagonsss,” Captain Zeythea acknowledged.
“Very well,” Relegon nodded, then stepped off the raised platform, “I ssshall pay a visssit to Zetaal. Page me if anything ssshowsss up on ssscanner. Sssstay alert!”
“Yes, Chancellor,” Captain Zeythea returned a nod before licking his lizard lips. “Ssstay sssafe, Chancellor.”
Relegon pointed at two of his most trusted guards and motioned to follow. As the guards escorted Relegon, Captain Zeythea hissed,” A wissssse choice, Chancsssellor,” then licked his lips, slithering his fork tongue in and out.
The three made their way through the corridors of the ship before reaching the cell block where Zetaal was held.
The two guards stopped outside the door as Relegon entered his code, sliding the door within the bulkhead. Facing outward, the guards stood firm at attention, watching and protecting their Chancellor.
Entering the cell block, Relegon stood facing a guard who now was standing, “Open Zetaal’sss ssscell block. I sssshall have a visssit with thisss treassssonous traitor!”
“By your order, Chancellor Relegon,” the guard proudly said, “I just want to sssay that I sssupport you. You are my Chancellor! I would kill thisss Zetaal for you, if you wisssh.”
“That will not be necesssary, though, I applaud you for your sssupport,” Chancellor Relegon paused, then continued, “What temperature isss the sscell and hasss diapause ssset in asss yet?”
The guard turned to a console. After pressing a few commands, he faced his Chancellor, “Yesss, diapause has ssset in. The sscell isss ssset to ten degreessss Celsiussss. Zetaal isss immobile asss hisss limbsss and musclesss are currently frozen in placssse.”
The bars on Zetaal’s cell slid open, stopping with a clank.
The Centaurian laid on a canvas cot, raised above the ground on six metal legs. Under the cot, several refrigerant cooling coils chilled the space between the deck and cot. Temperature sensors lined the walls and ceiling to ensure the cell’s environment was secure.
Stepping into the cold cell, Relegon gazed upon the lifeless Zetaal, his arms across his chest and legs fastened to the cot with straps, all the way up and to his torso. The slow lizard creature struggled to open his eyes and then fixed his gaze at his captor.
Weakly, Zetaal struggled to speak, “Are… you going… to… sssslowly… kill me? Sssuffering and torture… isss not… the… Theta… Centaurian way.”
“You are being taken to Theta Centauri prime, where you will be tried for treassson againssst your Chancssellor. The penalty to which, isss death! However, sssuffering and torture may not be your way, Zetaal. However, I must sssay that, I am enjoying ssseeing you there, entering a diapause phassse. The cold isss ssshutting you down. You cannot move and you can barely ssspeak asss I keep you just a few degreessss from death.
“Afterall, I did promissse the Antarian leader that I would not kill you. At leassst not right away.”
Relegon laughed at his own words, “I just wanted to come here to asssk if you like our accommodationssss. Now that I know you are being kept at proper temperature, I will return to my command center.”
As the Chancellor turned away from the subdued Zetaal, the ship shook, causing Relegon to lose his balance and fall against one of the bulkheads. Recovering from nearly falling the Guardian rocked and shook once more before alarms rang out across all decks. Then a hissing voice broke through the explosions continuing to rock the ship, “Battle ssstationsss! We are under attack!”
Relegon quickly exited the cell block as the two guards ran down the corridor. Making their way through the chaos, passing several Centaurians as they ran to their stations.
Quickly entering the command center, Relegon’s ears were filled with Captain Zeythea hissing several commands, “Maintain port ssshieldssss! Fire counter measuresss! Helm: turn usss into that ssship! Tactical: ssswitch all cannonsss to sssalvo fire and man all forward turretssss!”
Relegon assumed the top step over the bridge crew and sat in his command seat. Studying his console, he ordered, “Ssstatussss report!”
“A Centaurian frigate hasss jumped in close proximity to our port ssside! It isss one of Zetaal’sss sssupportersss,” Captain Zeythea reported.
“Helm: get usss out of here!” Relegon shouted, “Ssspool the jump drivesss and prepare for emergency—”
“—Jump drives are down!” Captain Zeythea interrupted the Chancellor, “Their first strike was exact!”
“They knew our jump coordinatessss!” Relegon hissed.
The ship violently shook again, then, the command center’s lighting flickered twice before going dark. Emergency red lights began glowing, dispelling some of the darkness.
“Direct hit! We have systemsss going down all over the ssship!”
The tactical officer reported, “They have launched a transssport!”
“They are coming for Zetaal!” Chancellor Relegon cursed, his forked tongue quickly flicked in and out from his lizard lips. “Sssecurity detail to the brig!”
“The power at the csssell block is out!” Captain Zeythea reported.
“Zetaal’sss environmental settings! It will not take long for the diapause to end!”
“We’re getting reports that they are cutting through the hull near his cell!”
“Get a team down there, now!” Relegon shouted.
“All comm sssystems are down! Messssagesss are not being transssmitted!” Zeythea hissed in anger.
The tactical officer turned to his Chancellor with fear painted across his lizard face, “They have breached the hull! They’re in!”
“Once they detach,” Zeythea surmised, “that deck will be venting!”
“Ssseal off that sssection at oncesss!”
The tactical officer stood from his console, “I’ll get it sssealed, Chancellor! I have to do it manually!”
“You better hurry or we’ll lossse the entire sssship!” Relegon warned.
“Underssstood!” the tactical officer acknowledged.
An explosion went off in one of the lower deck corridors, creating a hole in the bulkhead. Theta Centaurians poured into the corridor. Opening fire on anyone already in position to defend the Guardian.
The fireteam quickly mowed down the guards. Then, stepping over the fallen Centaurian bodies, the fireteam continued to their destination. It only took one shot from the plasma gun to short-circuit the door panel, causing the cell block entrance to slide within the bulkhead.
Shots rang out from within, taking out two forward most of the assault team, but more took their place, sending hundreds of railgun shot projectiles into the cell block, killing the guard inside.
Rushing inside the cell block revealed the cell door sealed. Another shot from a blaster, sparked the control panel. Flames licked the wall as the cell door unlatched and slid open.
Taking a sharp knife, one of the fire team cut Zetaal’s straps while another helped him upright.
“Chancellor Zetaal, come with usss!”
“Chancellor!?” Zetaal struggled to speak, still reeling from the effects of the cold, “You… you are freeing… you are freeing me!”
“Yesss, we are freeing you and you are ssstill our Chancellor!”
Zetaal was helped by two of the assault team, one on each side, set his arms around their necks as they helped him to walk.
“Your musclesss will loosssen and move freer the more you walk.”
Zetaal nodded his understanding as the fireteam began returning to their, heavily guarded, transport.
Entering the transport with no further resistance, they helped Zetaal strap into a seat as the remaining assault team entered the transport and sealed their airlock.
“We are clear! Detach now!”
Inside the corridor, the tactical officer reached the first pressure door. Crossing the door, he swung the door closed and spun the locking mechanism. Turning from the sealed door, the Centaurian sprinted for the opposite end of the corridor to seal the last pressure door.
Air began rushing through the corridor as the transport detached from the ship’s hull. Falling to the deck, the tactical officer was pulled across the floor toward the hull breach.
Grabbing the corner of the corridor, the Centaurian struggled to hold on until his grip failed, sending him traveling along with the venting cabin pressure and exited into space.
Captain Zeythea shouted out, “Abandon ssship! Abandon ssship! We are venting atmosssphere!”
“He didn’t make it!” Chancellor Relegon hissed his dissatisfaction.
“Chancellor,” Captain Zeythea shouted, “Come with me to your emergency escape shuttle!”
The Chancellor nodded his understanding as he followed the bridge crew to his support ship. Several emergency escape pods jettisoned as the Chancellor’s shuttle undocked and flew from the dying ship.
Looking out his port window, he saw the Guardian explode. Then, the attacking frigate jumped away.
Chapter Seven
________________________
The Rocinante
________________________
Race watched as Darnash rolled the cart back into the medical bay, “Ah, Darnash! You’re back.”
“Yes, my irritating human friend. I do not like duplicating my work. But, alas, I have returned the cross-way.”
“Aye sir,” Lieutenant Henderson nodded, then manipulated his console, “With pleasure, sir. Bristol, Rocinante; I have Admiral Fitz for Captain McCartney.”
“Rocinante, Bristol. This is Lieutenant Scott. Stand by for the captain. Go ahead.”
“Captain McCartney?”
“Admiral Fitz—Jedidiah,” Captain McCartney began, “So good to hear your voice, sir.”
“Welcome to Antares, Captain. I wish we were staying for supper, but we’re not. How soon can you have your jump drive primed and ready?”
“We can be ready when you are, sir.”
“Good. We’re jumping in five minutes.”
“Very well, sir, but may I ask where we’re going?”
“Everywhere and nowhere.”
“That sounds like an interesting trip. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Captain McCartney chuckled.
“All kidding aside, have your nav officer get with Lieutenant Foster. He’ll relay the jump plans over. Then, ensure your nav computers are synced and ready. Bristol, Primrose and the Rocinante are hitting the merry-go-round.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll have Lieutenant Mangini contact Foster, A-SAP.”
“Once our first jump is complete, I’ll have you and the Draconians transport over for a full briefing.”
“Very well, sir. I’ve got a few things to tie up, and we’re leaving in just over two minutes, if my clock is synced up.”
“You are correct, captain. Rocinante out,” then addressed his XO, “Prepare to jump.”
“Start the clock!” Commander Jameson ordered, “Jumping in two minutes!”
Chapter Six
________________________
The Third Moon, Serintin
The Tyrodaconda
________________________
“Prisoner Transport,” the Antarian deck chief began over a comm, “You’re cleared for departure.”
“Acknowledged,” the Antarian transport pilot replied, “Departing Tyrodaconda.”
Zetaal sat two seats behind the pilot with an Antarian guard in front, one next to him and one behind. The noise of the transport engines revving echoed in his ears, “You realizesss, Relegon will execute me!”
The guards remained silent as the pilot lifted up and off the ship’s skids. Spinning to the right, the transport lined up with the exit and began moving forward.
Passing through the shuttle bay exit, the pilot turned and pulled the flight controls up and away from the Antarian flag ship.
“Prisoner Transport,” the pilot called over their comm, “Theta ship, Guardian; prepare for arrival in five ma’na’ta.”
“Very well, we will be ready to receive in five santaros.”
The pilot flew the transport away from the Tyrodaconda and closer to the Guardian. Zetaal gazed out his porthole. Seeing the Rocinante and Primrose leaving orbit and forming up, he turned to one of the guards, “Where doesss Admiral Fitz think he isss going?”
The Antarian guard remained silent as the transport continued approaching Chancellor Relegon’s ship.
Zetaal’s attention turned to the pilot who called the Centaurian ship for landing instructions, “Understood, Guardian. We will enter the landing bay in one ma’na’ta.”
“You are cleared to land,” the Antarian pilot nodded as the Centaurian voice echoed over the crackle of the ship’s radio.
Entering the landing bay, the pilot turned his transport around, pointing the nose toward the exit before lowering the landing skids and set down.
The landing bay pressurized as the guards made Zetaal stand at the door’s exit. Once the green light lit, indicating proper atmosphere within the bay, one guard pressed the door sequence. A burst of steam vented before the outer doors seal broke and slid open.
On the opposite side of the landing bay, double doors slid open revealing a Centaurian military escort with Chancellor Relegon leading the group across the landing bay to the transport.
Zetaal was shoved forward, out of the transport airlock and to the deck as Relegon made his way to them. With his hands shackled in front, Zetaal’s forked tongue slithered in and out from his lips.
“Chancellor Relegon,” Zetaal began, “I must sssay, your lizard ssskin isss, indeed, resssilient. I am sssurprised you sssurvived.”
Relegon opened with, “Captain Zetaal! We meet again. Only thisss time, you are my prisssoner and not my Captain! Guardsss! Take thossse emblemsss off hisss lapelsss at once! He isss no longer a captain, rather captive.”
“The war isss not over, Chancellor! Your downfall will be following thessse humansss and their endeavor to sssave the Antariansss from being eliminated! Oncsse and for all!”
“Take him to a cold cell!”
“You are cruel, Chancellor! Very cruel!”
“Yes, well, you did attempt to assassinate me! I will not put you in an environment conducive to your escape,” Relegon paused, then turned to the lead guard and continued, “The lower the temperature, the better.”
One Antarian guard asked, “What does the cold do to you?”
“Chancellor Relegon wishesss to lower my body temperature enough to forcess me into hibernation ssso I won’t attempt essscape.”
“Yesss, well, thessse thingsss do happen,” Chancellor Relegon argued, “I’m not taking any chancesssss. Take him away!”
The Centaurian guard escorted Zetaal from the hanger bay as Relegon turned to address the Antarian escorts, “Thank you for bringing Zetaal to usss. You mussst depart now.”
The Antarians remained silent, turned and returned to the transport. The door began sliding closed and then vented more steam upon sealing.
Relegon exited the hanger bay, but stopped outside the doors to call his bridge, after depressing a comm button, Relegon ordered, “Captain Zeythea; as sssoon asss the Antarian ssship departsss. Make ready for jump. We’re returning Zetaal to Theta Centauri Prime for trial!”
“Yesss, Chancellor,” Captain Zeythea acknowledged. “Our jump drive isss primed and ready. We are three jumpsss to Theta Centauri.”
“Execute jump when ready, I’m heading to the bridge now. Relegon out.”
The Guardian’s loudspeakers rang out the Theta Centaurian communication officer’s voice as Relegon made his way to the ship’s command center, “Antarian transssport departing… sssecuring landing bay… jump drive isss primed and ready. Courssse ssset to Theta Centauri…”
Entering the Guardian’s command center, Relegon licked his lips with his fork tongue as he stood next to the ship’s captain, “Captain Zeythea: what isss our current statusss?”
Captain Zeythea stood from the command seat, which was raised above the rest of the command crew and stepped down to Relegon’s level.
Relegon stepped up to the raised platform with folded arms, listening to the ship’s captain, “We are ready to depart Antaresss. Zetaal isss sssecured in a holding cell. Admiral Fitz, with the Bristol and Primrose, are moving to a sssafe jump distance and are leaving Antaressss.”
“How many ssshipss are we leaving behind to protect the Antarian energy collector sstationsss?
“We are flying ten dessstroyersss, Chancellor. They are flying with fifteen Draconian war sshipsss.”
“It would ssseem our alliance with the humansss hasss great benefit in essstablishing new relationsss with the Draconiansss.”
“Sssome would argue that the human alliance weakensss our posssition in the galaxy.”
“Captain Zeythea, it would be wissse to hold thossse thoughtsss to yourssself.”
“They are not my thoughtsss, Chancellor. I am only informing my Chancellor of the issuesss among even our own crew.”
“Are you sssaying we have Zetaal ssympathizersss onboard and if ssso, who?”
“There are likely Zetaal ssupportersss aboard. There will be no way to identify anyone who isss. Ssso, my warning mussst be given to you. Do not walk the sship’sss corridorsss without your mossst trusssted guardsss.”
“You believe there are thossse on thisss ssship that will try an execute me?”
“There isss a dissstinct posssibility, Chancellor, yessss.”
“Jumping to firssst coordinatesss in five santarosss—,” the ship’s navigator counted, “four—three—two—one—jumping!”
The Guardian flew across several light years in less than three seconds, coming to normal speeds, the captain growled an order, “Posssition report!”
“Ssscanning sssector now,” the tactical officer’s voice hissed his answer. “No contactsss; the sssector is clear, captain.”
“How sssoon before our next jump?” Chancellor Relegon asked.
“Two ssantagonsss,” Captain Zeythea acknowledged.
“Very well,” Relegon nodded, then stepped off the raised platform, “I ssshall pay a visssit to Zetaal. Page me if anything ssshowsss up on ssscanner. Sssstay alert!”
“Yes, Chancellor,” Captain Zeythea returned a nod before licking his lizard lips. “Ssstay sssafe, Chancellor.”
Relegon pointed at two of his most trusted guards and motioned to follow. As the guards escorted Relegon, Captain Zeythea hissed,” A wissssse choice, Chancsssellor,” then licked his lips, slithering his fork tongue in and out.
The three made their way through the corridors of the ship before reaching the cell block where Zetaal was held.
The two guards stopped outside the door as Relegon entered his code, sliding the door within the bulkhead. Facing outward, the guards stood firm at attention, watching and protecting their Chancellor.
Entering the cell block, Relegon stood facing a guard who now was standing, “Open Zetaal’sss ssscell block. I sssshall have a visssit with thisss treassssonous traitor!”
“By your order, Chancellor Relegon,” the guard proudly said, “I just want to sssay that I sssupport you. You are my Chancellor! I would kill thisss Zetaal for you, if you wisssh.”
“That will not be necesssary, though, I applaud you for your sssupport,” Chancellor Relegon paused, then continued, “What temperature isss the sscell and hasss diapause ssset in asss yet?”
The guard turned to a console. After pressing a few commands, he faced his Chancellor, “Yesss, diapause has ssset in. The sscell isss ssset to ten degreessss Celsiussss. Zetaal isss immobile asss hisss limbsss and musclesss are currently frozen in placssse.”
The bars on Zetaal’s cell slid open, stopping with a clank.
The Centaurian laid on a canvas cot, raised above the ground on six metal legs. Under the cot, several refrigerant cooling coils chilled the space between the deck and cot. Temperature sensors lined the walls and ceiling to ensure the cell’s environment was secure.
Stepping into the cold cell, Relegon gazed upon the lifeless Zetaal, his arms across his chest and legs fastened to the cot with straps, all the way up and to his torso. The slow lizard creature struggled to open his eyes and then fixed his gaze at his captor.
Weakly, Zetaal struggled to speak, “Are… you going… to… sssslowly… kill me? Sssuffering and torture… isss not… the… Theta… Centaurian way.”
“You are being taken to Theta Centauri prime, where you will be tried for treassson againssst your Chancssellor. The penalty to which, isss death! However, sssuffering and torture may not be your way, Zetaal. However, I must sssay that, I am enjoying ssseeing you there, entering a diapause phassse. The cold isss ssshutting you down. You cannot move and you can barely ssspeak asss I keep you just a few degreessss from death.
“Afterall, I did promissse the Antarian leader that I would not kill you. At leassst not right away.”
Relegon laughed at his own words, “I just wanted to come here to asssk if you like our accommodationssss. Now that I know you are being kept at proper temperature, I will return to my command center.”
As the Chancellor turned away from the subdued Zetaal, the ship shook, causing Relegon to lose his balance and fall against one of the bulkheads. Recovering from nearly falling the Guardian rocked and shook once more before alarms rang out across all decks. Then a hissing voice broke through the explosions continuing to rock the ship, “Battle ssstationsss! We are under attack!”
Relegon quickly exited the cell block as the two guards ran down the corridor. Making their way through the chaos, passing several Centaurians as they ran to their stations.
Quickly entering the command center, Relegon’s ears were filled with Captain Zeythea hissing several commands, “Maintain port ssshieldssss! Fire counter measuresss! Helm: turn usss into that ssship! Tactical: ssswitch all cannonsss to sssalvo fire and man all forward turretssss!”
Relegon assumed the top step over the bridge crew and sat in his command seat. Studying his console, he ordered, “Ssstatussss report!”
“A Centaurian frigate hasss jumped in close proximity to our port ssside! It isss one of Zetaal’sss sssupportersss,” Captain Zeythea reported.
“Helm: get usss out of here!” Relegon shouted, “Ssspool the jump drivesss and prepare for emergency—”
“—Jump drives are down!” Captain Zeythea interrupted the Chancellor, “Their first strike was exact!”
“They knew our jump coordinatessss!” Relegon hissed.
The ship violently shook again, then, the command center’s lighting flickered twice before going dark. Emergency red lights began glowing, dispelling some of the darkness.
“Direct hit! We have systemsss going down all over the ssship!”
The tactical officer reported, “They have launched a transssport!”
“They are coming for Zetaal!” Chancellor Relegon cursed, his forked tongue quickly flicked in and out from his lizard lips. “Sssecurity detail to the brig!”
“The power at the csssell block is out!” Captain Zeythea reported.
“Zetaal’sss environmental settings! It will not take long for the diapause to end!”
“We’re getting reports that they are cutting through the hull near his cell!”
“Get a team down there, now!” Relegon shouted.
“All comm sssystems are down! Messssagesss are not being transssmitted!” Zeythea hissed in anger.
The tactical officer turned to his Chancellor with fear painted across his lizard face, “They have breached the hull! They’re in!”
“Once they detach,” Zeythea surmised, “that deck will be venting!”
“Ssseal off that sssection at oncesss!”
The tactical officer stood from his console, “I’ll get it sssealed, Chancellor! I have to do it manually!”
“You better hurry or we’ll lossse the entire sssship!” Relegon warned.
“Underssstood!” the tactical officer acknowledged.
An explosion went off in one of the lower deck corridors, creating a hole in the bulkhead. Theta Centaurians poured into the corridor. Opening fire on anyone already in position to defend the Guardian.
The fireteam quickly mowed down the guards. Then, stepping over the fallen Centaurian bodies, the fireteam continued to their destination. It only took one shot from the plasma gun to short-circuit the door panel, causing the cell block entrance to slide within the bulkhead.
Shots rang out from within, taking out two forward most of the assault team, but more took their place, sending hundreds of railgun shot projectiles into the cell block, killing the guard inside.
Rushing inside the cell block revealed the cell door sealed. Another shot from a blaster, sparked the control panel. Flames licked the wall as the cell door unlatched and slid open.
Taking a sharp knife, one of the fire team cut Zetaal’s straps while another helped him upright.
“Chancellor Zetaal, come with usss!”
“Chancellor!?” Zetaal struggled to speak, still reeling from the effects of the cold, “You… you are freeing… you are freeing me!”
“Yesss, we are freeing you and you are ssstill our Chancellor!”
Zetaal was helped by two of the assault team, one on each side, set his arms around their necks as they helped him to walk.
“Your musclesss will loosssen and move freer the more you walk.”
Zetaal nodded his understanding as the fireteam began returning to their, heavily guarded, transport.
Entering the transport with no further resistance, they helped Zetaal strap into a seat as the remaining assault team entered the transport and sealed their airlock.
“We are clear! Detach now!”
Inside the corridor, the tactical officer reached the first pressure door. Crossing the door, he swung the door closed and spun the locking mechanism. Turning from the sealed door, the Centaurian sprinted for the opposite end of the corridor to seal the last pressure door.
Air began rushing through the corridor as the transport detached from the ship’s hull. Falling to the deck, the tactical officer was pulled across the floor toward the hull breach.
Grabbing the corner of the corridor, the Centaurian struggled to hold on until his grip failed, sending him traveling along with the venting cabin pressure and exited into space.
Captain Zeythea shouted out, “Abandon ssship! Abandon ssship! We are venting atmosssphere!”
“He didn’t make it!” Chancellor Relegon hissed his dissatisfaction.
“Chancellor,” Captain Zeythea shouted, “Come with me to your emergency escape shuttle!”
The Chancellor nodded his understanding as he followed the bridge crew to his support ship. Several emergency escape pods jettisoned as the Chancellor’s shuttle undocked and flew from the dying ship.
Looking out his port window, he saw the Guardian explode. Then, the attacking frigate jumped away.
Chapter Seven
________________________
The Rocinante
________________________
Race watched as Darnash rolled the cart back into the medical bay, “Ah, Darnash! You’re back.”
“Yes, my irritating human friend. I do not like duplicating my work. But, alas, I have returned the cross-way.”









