SERATION ATTACK Chapter 2
Marion steered his jet pack toward the helpless Isian and flew full speed to the docking port. He looked over his shoulder long enough to see his father's transporter dart away into the star strewn emptiness of deep space. When he arrived at the docking port, he searched around until he found the hand sized opening that contained a manual lever to open a way into the ship. He put his hand into the opening and tugged on the lever. A smooth vibration tickled his fingers as he felt the mechanics inside the ship come to life.
Seconds later a door opened into the air lock. Marion pushed himself into the opening and the door quickly closed behind him. Still weightless, he took off his jet pack and attached it to a waiting hanger, and floated on up to the control panel. He entered several commands and the airlock hissed with warm vapor. With a quick test, he knew it was safe to take off his helmet and breathe. A vibration coming from outside rocked the ship. He was glad he made it inside safely.
Still floating, he grabbed the handles next to the control panel and made his request to enter. "I am Marion James Justo, son of Ezra James Justo, son of Marion Thomas Justo, requesting permission to enter the ship. Do you recognize?" A light flashed green and the door was ready to open. He quickly put his helmet back on, not knowing what the interior temperature of the ship would be, and pushed the button. The door opened smoothly revealing the black interior of the ship.
"Activate emergency power." The young captain commanded. The ship responded by lighting up the entry way with brilliant red lights. "Activate emergency gravitational systems." At his commands a band of lights glowed on his own golden space boots. "Stabilize," he commanded, and the boots floated firmly to the floor. When they made contact, a line of floor lights clicked on down the hall and out of sight.
"Ships navigation and layout computer, respond." A musical tone filled the room and Marion smiled. "Lead the way to the command center."
He ran forward along the port of the ship until he saw a spiral staircase going four levels topside. Before running up the stairs he looked down at his boots and gave another quick command. "Motion boost," he yelled and instead of stepping a stair at a time, he easily hurtled three steps per leap. When he cleared the last stair he ran to the closed door which opened at his command. "Captain's chair activate," he said as he entered into the large command center. A chair in the middle of the room came to life and spun to the side as if beckoning him to sit and take control. Another vibration jolted the ship causing the frame to groan.
"Initiate start-up sequence." The chair moved into its forward position and a large organ like control panel came up from the floor and surrounded him. "DNA verification activate." He took off his glove and placed his hand on the frigid panel and it lit up.
He removed his hand from the lights and positioned them on a keyboard. "Ionic engines, engage." A roar came from inside the ship and the red emergency lights instantly turned brilliant white. Motors, fans, and the sound of rushing water all worked together to bring the ship to life. The air in the command center started to circulate and the feel of warmth came with it. He watched a temperature gauge on the initiation sequence panel as it went from sixty below freezing to an acceptable twenty below freezing. He took off his helmet and gasped at the cold air rushing into his lungs. Cold, but not too cold, he caught his breath and continued his commands. "Command shield screens open." The shields covering windows of the command center retracted and revealed an entire section ripping from the space station. Whatever was happening at the Salvage Space Station was nothing less than war. He knew he had to get out fast.
"Communication links, up," he said urgently.
The sound of his father's voice came screeching over the speakers, "Are you up, are you up?"
"I'm operational, Admiral." Marion shouted. "The initiation sequence is 15% complete and so far all systems seem to be perfect. I don't see anything wrong. How soon before the schooner can tow me out of here?"
"There's no time for that, son," his father said frantically. "Cridoa just sent me a posting telling me he has bought us all the time he can. He is falling back with everyone loyal to him and abandoning the Salvage Space Station Port. They are heading to Fredonia, on the Royal Prison Planet and are going to try and find some protection there. We are on our own. I have instructed the men in your hanger to fall back to the Schooner and I'm ordering you to come with them."
"We are Isian, Dad," Marion called back, "we can't let Seration pirates take whatever they want. For some reason this ship means a lot to them. Let's not just give it up."
"It's not worth your life. I can replace a starship, I can't replace you."
"Wait a minute Dad, there might be another way. I just made it through 25% of the initializing sequence. I don't have navigation thrusters, but I have plenty of raw power. If the Schooner pointed me in the right direction, I'm sure I can fly her out of here. It doesn't matter where I sail, as long as it's away from the spaceport. Just steer me clear of the station and you can catch up with me. It can work. This is worth more than an office desk. Let's do it."
Admiral Justo agreed. The Schooner pulled next to the Isian, and gently nudged it away from the spaceport. Marion looked over toward the space station as it continued to flash and tremble and noticed ships darting away from it in every direction, except for one, it was moving purposely toward him.
"You're clear son," his father announced. "The Schooner will track you. Make this sharp, you have a salvage barge closing in on you."
"Prepare aft thrusters," Marion commanded. The engines of the Isian let out a trembling groan as if forty years of inactivity bottled up inside waited to be released. "Activate on my mark; three, two, one, Mark." The thrusters screamed into life sending a stream of blue ions into the void. The power of the blast caused the salvage barge to spin out of control and ram harmlessly into the salvage bay. The Schooner darted forward at the same time, leaving behind its own ion wake, and trailed the Isian as close as it dared.
Inside the Isian Captain Justo held on to his seat with all of his strength. Without any acceleration protection, his body was forced to endure the full brunt of the artificial gravity being caused by the ship's thrusters. Nimble and powerful, the engines easily distanced him from the visual image of the space station. Three terra-minutes passed and the acceleration from the powerful engines caused the ship to pitch and roll until the frame of the starship groaned under the stress. Without directional thrusters the ship was in danger of being ripped apart by the engines uncontrolled maneuvers. He had to act fast.
"Thru-u-usters diseng-gage," he gasped with his last full breath, but he could only manage a dry airless whisper. The ship's computer was unable to perceive his vocal command. With almost no ability to breathe, he could feel the strength ebbing from his body. His vision narrowed and his head throbbed, but with all his remaining energy he placed his hands on the keyboard and sent the ship one last command before passing out.
The thrusters immediately shut down, and the ship drifted aimlessly at half the speed of light. Aboard the Schooner, the crew was able to keep the out-of-control Isian in her scope to try and catch up. More than once the Isian burst out of tracking range and it was due to the tracking skills of his uncle that they were able to reestablish contact. After several hours they were finally able to catch up and board the ship to bring her under control. As soon as the Schooner had control of the Isian, their location was sent to Admiral Ezra Justo aboard the Argo. The Schooner, with the Isian in tow, set a trajectory to meet in less than two terra-hours time.
The acceleration of the ship had been so severe, Marion was found passed out in the captain's chair. They took him directly to the captain's quarters located off the Command Center and let him rest. A med-tech determined that his ear drums were nearly ruptured and he had a slight concussion. His quick but thorough diagnosis indicated Marion was recovering quickly.
When Marion woke up four terra-hours later he looked up into the smiling faces of his father and uncle. Looking around the room he saw it was ornately decorated with woodwork of intertwining leaves and flowers. He blinked and squinted to shield his eyes from the light. "Where am I?"
"You're on the Isian. I didn't think it would be right to relieve you of your command while you were unconscious, so I ordered the ship's surgeon to put you and all your gear in the captain's quarters and let you rest up. How do you like it, son?"
"The captain's quarters? Why would you put my gear in the captain's quarters? I thought you were going to give the command to Uncle Aaron, I mean Admiral Aaron Justo?"
"After what I saw you do yesterday, you deserve to be in the captain's quarters. Besides, after the initiation sequence was complete, the main computer wouldn't recognize any other captain. It's an old computer program; I guess it only recognizes one captain at a time."
"I don't mind," Admiral Aaron Justo smiled. "I have a fleet of Star Ships back home. I just came along in case there was any trouble. If I had known how well you think on your feet I might not have come. You just get better, Captain Justo," he said with deliberate emphasis.
Back on the burning salvage station Inglid the Lessor opened up a communication link with Admiral Albrecht of the Seration Confederation.
"I did what ye commanded and me whole world is burnin' up."
"Did you capture the Isian?" The Admiral demanded over the transmitter. "Just tell me you maintained control of the Isian."
"No sir, we didn't. The Salvage Station's in flames; we're at war. Cridoa, the mangy beast, has explosives planted all over the station and he's blowing the world up. I'm lucky to be wearing me space suit or I'd have me insides spattered all over the walls. Now, the question is, are ye goin' to honor our deal and give me the fifty thousand in crystal?"
"You'll get your crystal, Inglid," Admiral Albrecht assured him. "We're Seration. We always trade square. Find out which direction they took the Isian, and I'll give you five hundred thousand in crystal, and the title to the whole salvage operation. Our battle group will arrive in two days time. Make sharp, Captain Inglid."
"Aye Admiral," Inglid grunted and let out a cry of glee, "Do you hear that you bags of spoiled meat. I'm the boss. Save the livin' quarters and put a team on saving the segment with the deep space antenna. The station's been damaged aplenty, but it can all be fixed. We have some ion trails to follow. Get sharp or I'll gut your oxygen lines wide open. We have major brass on its way and we don't want ta disappoint ‘em."
Two days passed quickly aboard the Isian, and all Marion could do was watch others work. Fresh supplies were transferred from the Argo, enough to outfit a crew of twelve for a year's travel time-bound, and the ion fuel rods were replaced to ensure the safety of the ship. The Argo kept close watch on the damaged Salvage Space Station, although they had to be careful not to reveal their location.
The time aboard the stationary Isian wasn't wasted though. Marion spent long hours walking the halls and rooms of the Isian with his father, learning about the artwork, the hand crafted woodwork, and the true purpose of the ship. The rescued ship had been in the family for ten generations and was comparable to a finely seasoned musical instrument. He learned it was a portable cathedral. Before his grandfather's fateful last voyage, she had traveled to the far reaches of the universe inhabited by Isians and stopped at planets with populations too small and too remote to have a place of their own to perform knighting, coronations and marriage ceremonies.
The Isian, first of the standard Alpha Class, had four decks on the main and one deck high above the rest of the ship aloft. In the center of the ship the giant cargo hold would have opened from the bottom of the first deck and extended all the way to the top of the ship. Instead of that configuration, the cargo hold was divided into smaller rooms that all connected into one large ceremonial room with seating for hundreds of people. The ceiling extended like a cathedral and the windows on top, when the blast shields were open, sparkled light on the participants like star dust.
The center of the ship was surrounded by a hall on both sides with utility rooms and crew quarters housed inside the graceful wings of the ship. At the trailing edge of the wings, on both sides, were rows of very special crystal bowls. These bowls were placed one inside of another so closely they almost touched. When activated the bowls rotated along a center axis, when touched by a moist leather pad, they rang out a musical pitch so perfect and powerful it caused the whole ship to vibrate. When harmonic cords were played in specific sequences the very matter around the ship danced with delight.
As with all Isian Space Craft, the harmonics of the crystal bowls were the reason Isians could travel outside of time and space and visit the far reaches of the universe. All Isians were taught from an early age that each star, planet and moon has a musical tone and that by combining those specific tones it was possible to harmonically, or musically describe the specific location of any object in space.
It was during an in-flight rehearsal of the Interplanetary Symphony by Gustoff Brenhardt, based on the tonal quality linking two closely positioned star systems, that the whole ship was taken from one star system and transported to another. Unfortunately, only two members survived the voyage unharmed, the ships chaplain and a violinist named Albert James Justo, the rest were permanently disabled or killed. The Interplanetary Symphony became the object of intense scientific study. Experiments were conducted and it was discovered that worm holes were more than random strings in space-time, they were living Rivers of Eternity. These strings were attracted to music; they could be summoned and navigated.
Albert James Justo, the violinist, purchased an old Cargo Ship and started doing experiments with it. He dared to enter and exit the worm hole that connected the two star systems. He began to refer to the worm holes as Rivers of Eternity and later as space vortexes. He exhausted his entire family fortune with a final experiment on how to make the vortex safe for others to navigate.
He reasoned that if the ship were protected by a seamless coat of gold, the occupants would have a better chance of surviving the effects of the vortex. Gold was a pure element that the space vortex favored over other metals. In the Vortex gold acted like a shield. The Space Vortex was alive, like a person. It moved and changed and chose who it wanted to let enter its river of energy. Once inside the river of energy all time stood still and distance lost all meaning. Everything that decayed became young again and all machines that needed to burn energy stopped functioning, including the human body.
What Albert Justo discovered inside the space vortex was that the soul or spirit of a traveler took a more physical form and could keep the body functioning during the voyage. He learned that a spirit could become dim and powerless if the laws of the universe were not followed during regular day to day living. A person not following these laws could not survive a trip through the vortex. The laws corresponded to the teachings of a great teacher known as The Great Is. Those who diligently followed the laws of Is could travel through the vortex, and those who didn't could not.
In one daring trip he sailed one hundred million light years from his own star, marked his position and returned again with his crew unharmed. He christened his cargo ship the Isian, Alfa Class. It was the first ship to sail in the Rivers of Eternity and come out with a living crew. It was the first ship to be covered completely in pure gold to withstand the searing heat of the pure river of intelligence. At the helm, Captain Albert Justo was the first to discover and refine the rules of Eternal Space Travel and master its intricacies. And for that discovery he was given the title, Albert the Just, Admiral of the space vortex. Even though it was ceremonial, the family took its royal charter seriously.
It took a new way of life to travel the River of Eternity, or the space vortex as it came to be known. Personal character was required, not just technical ability. The new rules of space travel redefined their families, their culture and their very existence. It is what made them so different from the Seration Pirates aboard the Salvage Space Station, and the men inside the slow time bound destroyer that had just docked at the still smoldering floating station. The men and women who learned to navigate the Rivers of Eternity came to be known as Isians, or the people of Is.
"How far are we away from an entry point to the Chanson Vortex?" Admiral Justo asked Julian Franco, his navigator.
"We are still about three terra days out from a full frequency entrance sir, although I am getting intermittent signals from it right now."
"That's good to hear. Keep your eyes bright, Lieutenant, I don't know how much more time we have before we'll have to start running. The Seration Confederation destroyer just arrived at the Salvage Space Port. I'm sure every ionic particle we emit is being searched for right now."
Lieutenant Franco nodded and continued his work. Ezra Justo walked back to his own intricate command chair and hailed the Isian on a secure line. "Hailing Captain Justo, son, are you there?"
"Yes Admiral," Marion responded out of habit. "I hear you loud and clear."
"Lieutenant Franco informs me we are nearing the entrance to the Chanson Vortex. What's the status of your ship?"
"All systems have been tested except for the starboard vortex drive. I just finished with the tests on the port-side drive and everything looks fine. We should be operational in a few hours."
"That's good," The Admiral sounded relieved, "I have studied the information provided by Cridoa on the space station, and I have downloaded it to you on a secure line. According to this report, Cridoa was once a programmer for the Seration Royal House, the ruling government before the rise of the Seration Confederation. His teenage son, Cenric, worked with him and was a brilliant programmer, exceeding even his father's abilities. King Elfwald and his queen, Mathilda were studying with Lorenzo Justo, your Great Grandfather, to be an Isian Star Captain and this made many members of the ruling family uncomfortable, especially his nephew, Prince Alhred. They feared if he became an Isian he would use his power and influence to force everyone to become Isian and they would lose their status in the kingdom.
"This is the time when Admiral Lorenzo Justo, my Grandfather, your Great Grandfather, was accidentally killed in an industrial accident aboard the Royal Space Port. He was loading a shipment of medicine in its small cargo bay when the boxes fell and crushed him. Your grandfather was only twenty-one when that happened and he decided to finish the training of King Elfwald.
"Prince Alhred apparently enlisted the aid of the young programmer Cenric to capture the Isian when it was docked at the Royal Space Port and kidnapped the King's son, prince Sevan. In the negotiations it was calculated that the King would give up his intentions to be an Isian and all would be well. According to Seration Law all of this intrigue is completely within the right of an upcoming heir to the throne.
"Things went as planned at first. The security detail at the Royal Space Port and those on the Isian were tricked by Prince Alhred and his men while your grandfather was being honored at a feast in the Royal Space Station. First of all the ship was fired on and successfully defended. Later after the feast, and after the Isian crew thought all was well, the Isian set sail to meet with King Elfwald for his first training mission. On the way she was overcome by the Pirates who sailed into deep space with Cenric the programmer, a small crew, and Prince Sevan. King Elfwald was furious and ordered every ship in his garrison to search and bring the ship back safely."
"I know what happened next," Marion broke in. "With all the Royal security searching for the Isian, Prince Alhred rallied his men and captured the King with all his sympathizers, accused them of sedition for trying to become Isian, and sent them to the Royal Prison Planet."
"That's right son," his father confirmed. "And the Isian was never seen again. A half mad crew was found floating in an escape pod not far from here, but Cenric, the young programmer, and Sevan, the King's son, were not among them. Prince Alhred proclaimed himself protectorate until the lost prince was recovered. If his information got out it could rally support for the Royal family on the Royal Prison Planet. We have to get all of this back home to analyze it in more detail and confirm it with the Isian's ship logs. No wonder the Seration Confederation is willing to do so much to recover the Isian. We need to get your ship fully operational. How are you doing?"
"I'm heading down to the starboard vortex drive as we speak," The young captain said earnestly. "I'll be out of communication for an hour while I calibrate the crystals. Captain Justo Out."
