Warhawk's Sacrifice - Ch. 1 - An Unwelcome Arrival - Alpha (Patreon)

The Amnesty lunged forward as the ship exited faster than light speed. The winding hum of the ship’s floridium core faded into the void of space. Syn’s small projected form appeared in the center console.

She stood tall with her hands behind her back. Her outfit had changed since the last time Seb had seen her. Gone was the low-hanging, hip slit dress, replaced with a female military officer’s uniform that was composed of a cross breasted jacket and knee-length skirt. Her hair was tied into a bun. Her blue visage was still draped in small beads of light, as if she was standing in a shower of stars instead of water.

“Captain, we’ve arrived at Rilon V, the arithor homeworld,” the virtual intelligence said.

“Thanks, Syn,” Seb said, waving his hand across his projected terminal. “Ship’s readouts look good. I’m not showing any issues from the deceleration. How does she feel, Vi?”

When Vi didn’t respond immediately, he looked over at the pilot. Her yellow eyes focused on the hologram in front of her, using the multiple screen views of the ship’s exterior cameras and sensor systems to pilot the ship. Her semi-transparent hands held a firm grip onto the ship’s control stick, except for when she brushed her tentacle-like hair from her face. She pulled at the front zipper of her full-body skinsleeve, revealing her middle chest, allowing her to take a deep breath to focus.

“She feels good,” Vi said, adjusting herself in her chair. “All the thrusters are responsive, and the primary boosters are engaged.”

“All right, let’s open her up and check out the view.” Seb tapped on one of the many buttons in the center console, lowering the front blast shields that sent heavy metallic thuds throughout the bridge.

The planet’s surface looked more machine than rock, with endless connected towers, apartments, and factories all interwoven underneath an artificial ecosystem. The only crust that still existed was full of deep craters, desolate tundras, and jagged mountain peaks. It resulted from the all-machine collective that the arithor had become, known as the Reborn, completely stripped the globe of most of its natural resources since their ascension.

Endless amounts of metal surrounded its exposed core, giving the impression of a watchful eye gazing at all on approach. As they got closer, the surface crawled with an infinite number of vessels, a hive of metal insects all working toward a common purpose. Queues of ships and drones sparkled in the void of space, venturing to and from the touted utopia.

Vi piloted the Amnesty into the nearest waiting lane. They hovered behind a cargo freighter that dwarfed the amnesty in size with its multicolored storage crate suspended together with powered tethers. The planet’s bleak surface, number of approaching craft, and their recent encounter on the Inora homeworld left Seb with an uneasy feeling.

When Seb felt Iris knocking at the edge of his mind, he looked down at his golden metallic glove, reminded he was wearing it. It took some getting used to, knowing when to and not to wear it, given it established a telepathic link between him and the only living nakai.

When Seb opened the mental door, allowing Iris to connect to him, her excitement overwhelmed him. It took him a few seconds to realize he was grinning from ear to ear, but when their emotions balanced, his concern.

Iris’s distressed voice echoed in his mind. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Seb said. “Just a little anxious of our arrival. We just dropped out of FTL and are approaching Rilon V now.”

“Oh! Can I come and see it?”

“Of course.”

When the pair stopped their conversation, Seb felt the heat of Vi’s stare. When he looked over at her, she smiled and shook her head.

“It’s weird to me when you talk to her,” she said. “You just start talking out loud when no one else is around. Like you’re some crazy person. I’m guessing Iris is coming up to the bridge?”

Seb smiled and raised the nakai device that encased his hand. “I promise I’m not that crazy.”

“I don’t know. Since I joined this crew, the number of times my life has been on the line has risen significantly.”

Seb frowned. “Are you saying you regret it?”

“Gods no. I wouldn’t change anything in the world.”

The two shared a short laugh as Seb gazed into her vibrant yellow eyes. The confidence in her answer brightened his demeanor. After qualifying Merovingian for the hypercore zero races, allowing the company an expansion into one of the largest sporting events in the galaxy, Seb and Vi celebrated their victory in the bedroom.

Since then, not much had changed in their relationship. They both kept things casual. Vi said that she didn’t like labels and wanted to see where things went. And while Seb was always keen to see how his crew felt about him, he didn’t want to ruin a good thing by asking any prying questions.

While they both sat in their chairs, enjoying each other’s company, Seb heard the pressurizing hiss of the elevator door open. Puttering footsteps approached him from behind. He looked up at their newest passenger as she held her small hands onto the back of his and Vi’s chairs.

Iris’s frame was small and delicate, not exactly what Seb envisioned an ultimate weapon would look like. She was taller than Eni, but shorter than the rest of Seb’s companions. Her body was primarily pink, but the light shifted it in color to shades of blue and purple.

Small tendrils protruded from her forehead and swept back with her hair before they ended in small droplets that glowed a sky blue. Her eyes were yellow like Vi’s, but they had a soft blue shimmer over them that matched the rest of her body. She wore a white sweatshirt with fluffy pink sleep pants borrowed from Nalla.

As she stared at the viewport and took in the sights, her wide grin slowly faded. Her eyes darted back and forth and her lip trembled. It was as if she was reliving some horrible memory.

Seb reached his hand over his shoulder and rubbed Iris’s hand. “What’s wrong?”

“W-what is this place?” she said into his mind.

“Rilon V. It’s the arithor homeworld.”

“The planet aches. It’s dying.”

“It aches?” Seb asked, cocking his brow. “You make it sound like it’s alive.”

“Maybe not in the same sense as you or I, but it is the birth mother of so much life, one must consider its role in creation. From its ground, minerals formed, plants grew. From its air, creatures breathe. From its water, rivers and streams flowed. However, all of that it is gone, rended into a husk and replaced with alloys and metals.”

“You can tell all of that based on how it… feels?”

Iris looked down at Seb and slowly nodded. “What happened to it? Did the arithor do this?”

Seb rubbed the back of his head as he looked out at the machine planet in front of him. “My history on the subject is a little rusty, but if my memory serves me right, the arithor people were on the verge of extinction because of an incurable disease that plagued them. They reached out to the other members of the Galactic Ruling Council. With the assistance of orlindrian scientists—”

“It wasn’t just the orlindrians,” Vi said, cutting Seb off. “It was a collective of some of the brightest galactic minds working under the authority of the GRC. People just like to blame or point fingers at the orlindrians because the head scientist, Dr. Faustest is orlindrian.”

“My mistake,” Seb continued. “A collective led by an orlindrian scientist helped the remaining arithor people uploaded their consciousness into a neural network of machine bodies. According to who you ask, the procedure was a success. But there have been many… concerns since that was completed.”

“Concerns?” Iris asked. “What kind of concerns?”

“Well for one, before the procedure, their numbers were in the tens of thousands, yet now they number in the millions, causing speculation of whether the original soul of the arithor people still exists under all the steel and circuitry. And as you can see, Rilon V, has been replaced with a spherical ball of machines and electricity. Depending on who you talk to, many refugees see the Arithor people, now known as The Reborn, as saviors, given their welcoming nature to other species. Anyone is able to travel to Rilon V and become a citizen. Once the paperwork is completed, immigrants are immediately given a job, home, and basic amenities.”

Iris took a step back, clutching her hands to her chest. “I don’t like it, Seb. A soul cannot be transferred into technology. I don’t want to be here.”

Seb turned around in his chair and smiled to calm her. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. We need to stop for supplies, fuel. You don’t even have any clothes that fit. We don’t have to stay long. Just long enough to grab everything we need.”

“No, please,” Iris begged. “I don’t want to be here. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Is everything okay?” Vi asked, spinning in her chair. “She looks on the verge of tears.”

“She doesn’t want to stay,” Seb said with a heavy sigh. “She’s going on about how it doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“Wait what? You want to leave too?”

“The Reborn give me the creeps,” Vi said, shuddering. “No matter how you feel about the whole AI argument, they completely changed after their ascension. Their robotic forms and emotionless voices. You can’t tell who’s who. Syn has more personality than the whole lot of them. No offense, Syn.”

“None taken, Vi,” Syn said. “I’m glad to hear you’re comfortable around me.”

“Let’s just say I’m more than happy to move on to somewhere else. A bonus is we don’t have to sit in this long queue to land planetside.”

Seb tapped on his console to bring up the ship’s fuel reserves. The floridium rod was three quarters of the way full. Their booster fuel was nearly full. Nothing concerning after they top off at the inoran homeworld of Api a few days ago. However, Seb wasn’t sure of their food stores, given their current crew.

“Syn, where is Nalla located?”

“She’s in her medical office, Captain.”

Seb tapped on the comm button for Nalla’s room and spoke aloud. “Hey Nalla, are you there?”

“I’m here Seb,” the crew’s medical officer said.

“How are our food stores, hygienic supplies, that sort of thing?”

“Um, last time I took inventory, we should be good for a few months.”

“Even with the additional passengers.”

“Maybe just a month, then? We’re nearly double the size with Sister Mischa, Iris, Zara, and Francicsa. Why? Are you thinking about not stopping?”

“At least not now. Iris has a bad feeling about this place and Vi does, too. We’ve got the fuel, so I was considering jumping us elsewhere.”

“Well, wherever we do jump, I would prefer it to be somewhere where I can restock our medical supplies for Francisca. I also don’t know when you planned to repair the medical office since Iris destroyed all the equipment in it, but the sooner the better. Otherwise, we would need to take her to a specialized facility.”

“Right… is she stable for now for us to make another jump?”

“She is. I’m monitoring her situation closely, but the sooner the better.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Seb killed the call and brought up the galaxy map. He spoke as he twisted the hologram with his fingers. “Well, we just came from the Great Hive. We could continue along this spire and hit UHC space. However, if we want the best medical facilities, it might be best to do a loop back into Liolai Collective space and stop there.”

“Captain, may I make a request?” Syn asked.

“Sure, go ahead, Syn,” Seb said.

“I’d also like to remind you we also need additional server processing and storage to help with the nakai data. If you’re taking requests, giving me another drone would help free up chores from the rest of the crew, allowing them to focus on more important tasks.”

Seb hung his head and sighed. “You’re right. Has Eni managed to sell the Yorion data to Vlad, yet? We need those credits to fund all of this.”

“Not that I am aware of. We’ve been in FTL, so our communication has been limited. I’ll remind her once she is awake.”

Seb tilted his head. “She’s sleeping?”

“She and I have been at constant work on the nakai translation dictionary and trying to clean the data we pulled from your glove. I have the benefit of not having to sleep.”

“I guess I’ll cut her some slack, then.” Seb said, smiling before gazing back at the map. “Now where to go?”

“Orlindrians have the best technology,” Vi said, shrugging with a smile.

“That’s debatable,” Seb said with a smug grin.

“Oh really?” Vi said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Name one thing off the cuff where the orlindrians don’t have the best design.”

“Easy… you’re flying it.”

Vi opened her mouth to refute, only to shrug and let out a short laugh. “You got me there.”

“But they have the best medical facilities. I’m sure Nalla would have a field day. Let’s see what the closest—” Tommy expanded the map with his fingers, zooming into the first stop on the plotted route. “—ah here we go. Kalailu in the Elluin system. It’s primarily an aquatic based planet, but they have several continents we could visit. Primarily a tropical climate. That could be fun.”

“I wouldn’t say no to being able to go for a swim.”

“Seems like the decisions made, then. Syn, can you lock in these coordinates and get us ready for an FTL jump?”

“Of course, captain,” the virtual intelligence said. “However, I’d like to inform you we’re being hailed by a nearby reborn military cruiser.”

“Military?” Seb asked. “What for?”

“Should I put them through?”

“Go ahead.”

“Connection established, Captain.”

A synthetic emotionless voice echoed over the bridge’s comm. “Vessel designated Amnesty, this is the RMV 4559. You are wanted by GRC command for harboring classified materials and cargo. You are to power down your ship immediately and prepare to be boarded.”

“GRC command… classified cargo… what are they talking about?” Vi asked.

“Iris,” Seb said, looking over his shoulder gazing upon the soft yellow eyes of their most recent arrival. “I didn’t think the inora would give up the details to the rest of the GRC hoping to pursue us on their own. But it looks like they’re willing to inform them if it means getting their hands on her and our data.”

Seb clenched his jaw as he took a moment to think. He knew it was a likely possibility that they’d run into more trouble, but thought they’d have more time, a moment to breathe. But like with everything since the founding of Warhawk’s Wyverns, nothing was ever this easy.

Seb smirked before he held down the response button. “RMV 4559… shhhh… this is the Amnesty… shhh… you’re not coming in… shhh… clearly… shhh… technical malfunction… shhh… please repeat your last… shhh… communication… shhh.”

When he let go of the button, he looked over at his co-pilot who placed her head in her palm. “What?”

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she said.

“Just give it a moment, and be ready to take us out, full power on my signal.” Seb pressed the ship wide comm button before he continued. “Everyone buckle down, we might be in for a bumpy ride.”

Vi tightened her belt straps as Seb jumped to his feet. He guided Iris into Nalla’s chair and buckled her in tight.

“Are things going to get dangerous?” The purple-haired girl asked.

“I hope not,” Seb said, pulling on her seat straps. “We’ll be okay though. Vi’s the best damn pilot there is. There’s nothing to worry about.”

She smiled and nodded before Seb returned to the co-pilot’s chair and buckled himself in. Once he swapped his views, the arithor message rang over the bridge’s speaker.

““Vessel designated Amnesty, this is the—”

“Now Vi!” Seb shouted.

The message stopped as Vi wrestled with the controls. The ship’s artificial gravity did its best to maintain stability, but Seb felt himself pressed back into his seat as Vi thrusted the ship up out of the queue and turned the ship one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. Once they were in open space, their pilot increased their speed to full power.

“Ten seconds until FTL is ready, Captain,” Syn said.

“No,” Seb said, quickly swiping on the galactic map. “The Liolai Collective is the GRC. They founded the damn thing. We need somewhere neutral.”

“Like uncharted space?” Vi asked.

“No, we need somewhere that has medical equipment. We need to go into the Galactic Core.”

“That’s worse! It’s nothing but self-regulated systems and gang-run outposts. You’ve still got the bounty on your head. Are you sure that’s where you want to go?”

“It’s a demilitarized zone, so there won’t be an active GRC presence. It’s the best chance we’ve got.”

“Out of one fire, into another…” Vi said with a sigh.

“Syn, can you cross-reference any crime data you have access to and find a system or outpost in the Galactic Core where we can get all the supplies we need?”

The projected intelligence’s eyes darted back and forth for a split second before responding. “Timura outpost. It’s a trade and entertainment outpost. It’s run by Madam Hurona whose authority keeps the station stable.”

“Update our navigation there and begin FTL calculations for the jump.”

The updated green dot projected on the front window, pointing to their new direction. Vi turned the ship slightly, aligning them to their new destination. Once she aligned the ship with the nav marker, a familiar red alarm flashed across a nearby projection, alerting the crew of an impending danger.

A bright blue bolt, nearly the length of the ship, passed the front viewport before exploding in a blue ball. Sparks of electricity tickled the Amnnesty’s shield, coating in a semi-transparent bubble in just a few seconds. An audible hiss rang through the speakers as the discharge flowed throughout the ship.

More alarms rang on Seb’s console. He quickly tapped to the electrical grid. Outside of several voltage spikes, everything soon balanced, and he breathed a sigh of relief. If we get hit with one of those, we’re going to be in big trouble, Seb thought.

“Captain, the RMV 4559 has fired its electromagnetic pulse cannons at the Amnesty.”

“I know!” Seb shouted. “Vi, take evasive action!”

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” Vi yelled after jerking the control stick. The ship twisted and spun, responding to her commands. She dodged the incoming explosions that filled the cabin with bright blue light. Her position was limited, but she used the ship’s thrusters with expertise, moving the vehicle out of the incoming fire with perfectly timed propulsions.

Seb thought they were going to be in the clear until Syn spoke again. “Captain, I’m detecting sixteen inbound drone strike craft departing from the RMV 4559. Correction… thirty-two… now sixty-four. They will enter range of their primary weapons within the next two-hundred-and-fifty seconds.”

“How long until the FTL drive is ready?”

“Five hundred-and -twenty-two seconds.”

“Why is it taking so long?”

“A significant amount of my processing is being consumed by nakai processing.”

“I think not getting caught is a much higher priority.”

“Acknowledged, Captain. Pausing all work and devoting processing toward the FTL calculation. ETA is two-hundred-and-sixty-five seconds.”

That’s not enough, Seb thought. I need to buy us some time. No matter how good Vi is, she’s not going to be able to outmaneuver that many enemies. I need to bolster the shields. Seb’s eyes went wide as an idea popped in his mind. The batteries!

Seb ripped off his harness and jumped from his chair.

“Where are you going?” Vi shouted as he sprinted down the hall.

“Maintenance!” Seb yelled after jumping into the elevator. “Just keep flying!”

Seb whispered for the elevator to hurry as he watched the hologram floor lights shift between levels. When he felt the inverse of the ship’s gravity swing him from side to side, he activated the magnetic clamps on his boots for additional support. Once the doors opened, he sprinted with heavy metallic thuds echoing down the hall.

He passed the FTL core and continued down the length of the ship until he reached several locked maintenance closets that only he had access to. The secured doors made a bright jingle before the lock opened. Seb grabbed a helmet-sized conduit with two metal plugs with clamps on both ends from the wall. He grunted from the weight as it slammed to the ground.

Wasting no time, he backpedaled out of the room, dragging it to the opposite wall, which was composed of a floor-to-ceiling, red barrier. Seb shuffled to a terminal pad and pressed the release button, dissipating the barrier. With the red glow gone, white LED’s kicked on nearby, illuminating the four fifteen-foot tall batteries that lived on this side of the ship.

Seb opened the bottom flap and plugged the cable in, securing the claps on the edge of the port. He raced down the length of the cable, picked it up, and dragged it further down the hallway. He wrestled the snake-like coil, flapping it up and down to unwind it. His heart pounded and sweat poured from his face as he strained his legs to pull the heavy wire.

When he reached the far end wall, he thanked his previous self who was smart enough to install a port for the shields, in the event they would need to be recharged manually that wasn’t pulled from their solar panels. He’d heard too many horror stories of the ship's internal batteries becoming damaged and being stranded in space. Redundancy, redundancy, redundancy was what professor Gula taught in school for a lasting design, Seb told himself.

After plugging the cable into the outlet, Seb gazed at the nearby terminal. He configured a new power source for the shields in the system’s settings. However, once it was completed, he received an error in mismatching voltage.

“The batteries are in series, you idiot!” Seb shouted at himself.

Seb reprogrammed the system in the interface, rerouting the power to the ship’s internal converter. He wasn’t sure if it could hold the additional load offered from the batteries, but he had no other options. When it asked him to confirm his selection, he hesitated before pressing the button.

The power rating on the ship's shields doubled from ninety-three percent to over two hundred and twenty-two percent. The hum from the batteries filled the room as they offered their full load down the cable. Seb couldn’t tell if the shaking he felt in the floor grates was from the ship's systems trying to handle the additional load or the beginning rain of laser fire on the ship.

All he could do was hope for the best. He stood on pins and needles and waited for their FTL jump. But when he smelled burning plastic and smoke, Seb’s eyes widened and he raced down the hall.

A loud bang echoed from the exterior wall of the ship and Seb lost his footing, sending him to the ground. He didn’t feel a reverse of pressure or the lack of gravity, which told him there wasn’t an exterior hole. It was good enough reassurance; he had a job to do.

Seb pushed himself up from the ground and stepped over the winding cable that was on the floor. By the time got to his feet, smoke filled the ceiling of the hall. He followed his nose toward the smell. Once he reached the batteries, he could see the orange sparkle of flame flap from the top of port battery number two.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Seb shouted while running to the barrier controls. He typed on the terminal, re-initiating the red barrier. Once the display showed the area completely sealed, he opened the gauss exhaust ports opening part of the roof to the vacuum of space. The floor and walls shook violently as the pressure equalized.

As he looked into the emptiness of space, he could see the danger all around them. Thin red lights of laser fire surrounded every inch around them. They collided with the soft blue hue of the Amnesty’sshields, creating the visage of a puddle being assaulted by a heavy rain.

“Captain, the Amnesty is ready to jump,” Syn said over the comm. “However, security protocols will not allow us to jump with the gauss vent ports open.”

“We’ve got a fire down here!” Seb shouted. “Give me a few seconds until it's out.”

“We could initiate the fire suppression system—”

“And destroy the rest of the batteries and who knows what else down here? No! Just give me a few more seconds.”

Once the fire and smoke cleared, Seb shut the vent ports and shouted at the ceiling. “Syn, go now!”

The growing hum of the ship’s FTL core built into a resonating shout that shook the entire frame. When it activated, the whole ship groaned unnaturally. Lights shattered and sparks discharged from the nearby panels and wires. Seb slumped to the floor, panting, as darkness overtook him.