Alone in space, a metallic object began to spring to life. At first, it was merely a the internal lighting sparking into operation. The lights that littered the hull then began to glitter their soft yellow glow, some flashing in sequence and some constantly beaming. A series of spotlights also energized their radiant lights, spreading their intrusive glare against the darkness.
A flash of light erupted in the hollow space at the centre of the gate, a bright red sparkle that glistened for seconds before withering into a low glow. The hull itself of the gate began to move and extend, spreading almost like a spider when it rears its legs and fangs. The ring of which each of these long arms was attached to began to glow with a similar light to that of the pulsing spark in its empty centre. The spark began to grow in intensity, now pulsating in a sequence of energy.
Suddenly, without any warning, the light plumed forward and formed a huge cone stretching to the tips of the outstretched arms. The cone was spiked with streaks of lightning-like plasma, ripping at the empty darkness. A streak of light then appeared from nowhere, and struck the array near where the ring was. A violent thunderstorm of energy rippled around the array, before clearing away almost as quickly as it had appeared.
And there, sat in the centre of the rift, was a cold and dark creature of dull grey metal. It began moving clear of the array, accelerating quickly into the abyss.
"Radiation fallout rated at yellow-C. Non-lethal poisoning, appropriate radiation dosage has been prepared at all medical injection stations," The AI, who was programmed to respond to the name of "Vera" said in a her clean and perfected english accent. Across the patrol cruiser Ticonderoga, crewmen and officers alike made their way to one of the medical stations that were dotted around the hull. Placing their hand into a large opening filled with a gelatinous substance, they were each injected with a serum of an anti-radiation compound called Zaraline, a vital item for long distance Slipstream jumps. Slipstream inherently caused a large dosage of radiation poisoning for crew-members but it was never fatal.
"All stations report clear of slipstream influence. Helm is registering at 100%, slipstream wash has dissipated," Lieutenant Daedalus said. Karina Daedalus was sat at the head of the command centre in her lightly padded seat, playing her hands across the touch screen. Her fingers were a blur as she ran a series of diagnostics of the systems, helm, environmental control and tactical to name but a few.
"Set a course for the coordinates. Take us into orbit around Draeven IX, full impulse," Said a masculine voice sitting in the command chair. A voice belonging to Robert De Meltosi, commander of the Ticonderoga. "Once we are there, send out transmissions to all of our rangers."
By rangers, he was referring to a battalion of ships under direct attachment to his craft, all of them Destroyers or frigates. his ship served as the command and control ship of 15 patrol vessels operating in the Hetasmae sector in the Weyland zone, bordering the Coridian twilight. De Meltosi was weary. Being so close to the Twilight was a disconcerting position for anyone of his age. He could remember the tales his family had told him of the last event, the known as the 1 day incurson. He wasn't comfortable being near the home of those mass murdering creatures.
About 5 hours later, the ship drifted into orbit of Draeven IX, a moderately inhabitable world of AH (average habitability) class. It would have been perfect as a agricultural colony, growing crops that could serve the entire sector. Unfortunately, the proximity of it to the Coridian Twilight meant that it would be challenging to get any funding or support that is vital for a budding colony. No-one had ever attempted to make landing on Draeven IX anyway. Until 10 years ago that is.
Now, it was a secret military surveillance base. Buried deep within the rugged hulls of the upper major continent, named Ulysme, was a small base of operations equipped with some of the latest long range scanning technology. It was close to the Twilight, and there was little need for environmental modification or precautions. It was perfect really. And even more perfect for a CnC cruiser, like the Ticonderoga was operating as.
"TAS Ticonderoga hailing Draeven IX facility. We are transmitting on coded frequency, requesting immediate response. Over," Comms officer Imogen Carvelle said over the communications system, situated back and to the right of the commander. After a few seconds, a small machine-made beep sounded, before the channel became open on both ends.
"Ticonderoga, this is Draeven IX, watchmen Everheart on duty. We are receiving you loud and clear," came the reply.
"Requesting permission to tie into your surveillance network, and to receive situational report on this sector."
"Affirmative, Ticonderoga. Patching you in now. Our interlink encryption is sequence AA-5-6-Omega, variation Blue."
"Patch us in, Carvelle," De Meltosi ordered, shifting in his chair. "Draeven facility, could we get an audio readout of major sector activity, please?"
"Of course captain. In the past 24 hours there has been no major natural phenomenon in operation, apart from the Sabra XVI comet making its pass on the Y'sumane system. No major artificial movements either. Uneventful to the last, I'm afraid."
"Very well. We'll keep a tie in to the surveillance equipment for the duration of our stay. Ticonderoga out."
The line went dead.
Lt. Imogen Carvelle was just beginning to lapse into a daydream, when a button on her panel began to blink red, accompanied by a mechanical alert sound. Glancing at her panel, her eyes widened to the sight of the slipstream node becoming active.
"Captain, the Slipstream node is going active! Something is coming through, And by the looks of it she is coming in hot!" She cried, spinning around in her chair. De Meltosi leapt up from his chair, and hurried over to her seat, leaning over the top of her shoulder. "Coming in hot" was the term for a ship exiting Slipstream at break-neck speed and without any safety precautions and checks. It was a fair bit faster, but often lead to small hull damages or irregularities, and was generally avoided in normal circumstance. Whatever was coming in, was coming in a hurry.
"Begin scanning the Slipstream, full spectral analysis. Give me everything you can on what's coming through, and display it on the main monitor," He ordered, settling back into his chair. On the screen, a composite grid of the slipstream tunnel appeared, along with the visual representation of the scanning equipment aboard the node itself of which the Ticonderoga had remote access to. As the sensor beam traced along from side to side of the tunnel, a reading appeared in the centre, rapidly approaching the aperture of the tunnel.
"Metallurgic analysis: Tritanium hull, Plasma-conductive armour plating, Veridium drive coils. Energy analysis...." Carvelle paused, as if she had seen a ghost. On the screen, a readout appeared next to the signature. She highlighted the offending word, and said it aloud. "Positron."
The room fell silent. Mouths fell agape, and all heads turned toward that of the commanding officer. He knew, as well as they, what a Positron energy signal denoted. Only one place ever produced Positron based energy grids. And that was the Coridian Twilight. There had been no activity from the twilight in some 200 years. Some had even theorized that it had completely collapsed, leaving all vestige of civilized government far from the place. It appeared, evidently, that something rather contrary had occured.
"That thing is huge. Some 900 metres in length. At the least, she's a battlecruiser. She could even be a small battleship. We bloody well don't have the power to take something like that on!" Tactical officer Darren Bridge shouted aloud, his strong english accent ringing throughout the bridge. De Meltosi knew it as well. What he also knew was that they couldn't have detected the Ticonderoga yet. They didnt have access to the nodes in this sector, they were all controlled by Triumvirate vessels.
"They're coming through! I estimate 20 seconds before they leave the node!" Carvelle shouted in urgency.
"Captain, I can take us down. I know this thing isn't rated for atmospheric travel, but I can do it. Just give me full power to the helm, And we can be in the atmosphere. That'll protect us a little from long range scans, and will buy us some time to come up with a plan," Daedalus said softly without turning.
"Do it."
Daedalus forcibly drew power from all other non-essential systems and shunted them into the plasma-stream engines, giving her the necessary power to get the ship down into the atmosphere. The Amazon class light cruiser was certainly not designed for atmospheric flight. It had never even been considered in designing of the ship. But now was as good a time as any to test whether it was possible. And she was confident she could do it.
Slewing the bow by 20 degrees toward the atmosphere, she powered the ship forward at 1/4 impulse speed. It began to descend at an alarming rate toward the atmosphere's edge, the hull slowly beginning to heat up. Before long, traces of flame were edging the shields of the ship as she descended into the atmosphere.
"Alert, Hull pressure exceeding tolerant levels. Alert, hull temperature at 5,000 kelvin and rising," Came the computer's monotone alert.
She pushed the descent angle down by futher 5 degrees. Looking at the chronometer, she knew it was past the time the Coridian vessel had left slipstream. Every second counted now.
"Alert, Hull pressure exceeding maximum rated limitations. Alert, Hull temperature at 6,000 Kelvin."
"Transfer power from communications to the shields!" De Meltosi shouted over the gentle rumbling of the hull. The ship began to shiver and shudder.
"We're in the atmosphere!" Carvelle screamed. The temperature began to decrease slowly, as did the pressure. the Hard part was over, breaching the atmosphere.
Daedalus angled the ship downward yet further and pushing the engines a little harder. It was beginning to get to a stage where it would be difficult to draw free of the descent she had locked them in.
Suddenly, wrapping her hands around the manual steering column, she pulled it hard toward her, angling the thrusters to draw out of the decent. She slid her hand along the touchpad for the helm power, slamming every molecule of plasma through the reaction chamber. Slowly, the bow's angle began to rise. On the viewscreen, the deep green of a deep forest was rapidly approaching. De Meltosi settled into his chair, and gripped the armrests tightly. "Daedalus...." he had said warningly a while back, and now his face was completely drained of colour. He knew damn well that this was going to be close.
The ship pulled into a horizontal merely metres away from the forest top, setting a stream of trees into back-breaking bends as the winds streaked past.
"Right people, we need a plan," De Meltosi said purposefully, lifting himself from the chair.
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