P Hillard - The Knower of Truths

“Lord Abbernax wants the knower captured alive lord; he was v—” the thrall stopped mid-sentence as the chunk of stone collided with his head.

“I know what he said! Organics, so simple-minded. We could capture this useless… what was it called? Human? Or, we could destroy this vessel, wipe this planet clean and then obliterate untold worlds within the Council. We are in a unique position, deep in the heart of enemy territory, our fleets holding their interest elsewhere. A chance for glory.” Paranax leant back into his throne. “Organics, never looking beyond the now, such fleeting things. Abberax is far away, no doubt in battle with Council forces. His survival is not guaranteed.”

The thrall adjusted itself, struggling to right its slumped body. Its arms were attached to the console before it, its body wired into its seat, making it difficult for it to move. The thrall tugged and felt its feeding tube becoming unplugged. It would need to have that fixed but decided to wait until after its stone overlord had calmed down. Thralls were considered responsible for their own damage incurred. The other thralls were ignoring their stricken comrade, even the ones who still had use of their legs, all eager to avoid incurring Paranax’s wrath.

“Yes lord, relaying orders now.” The thrall was slurring its words, a wire had come loose in the complex array that had been attached directly to its brain.

The ship was shaking, struggling to keep up with the constant hits landing on its shield. They had barrelled right through the remaining pirate line, releasing their shots back at them. The Sword had acquitted itself well, but by taking the quickest course, they had exposed themselves to a bewildering amount of firepower. Any other ship would have been scrap, even perhaps the massive Substrate dreadnought that hung in space before them.

“Can we open, I don’t know, a channel? Is that the right word? I want them to hear me,” Michael said. One hand was holding onto one of the straps pinning him to his chair. The other was in his pocket, his fingers fumbling with his magnetic tour guide badge. He had recovered it from his room aboard the Seeker that same morning. He didn’t know why at the time. Now, it was a tactile reminder of home, a link back to Earth. Michael had never been patriotic, didn’t care about his country during the football, didn’t vote in Eurovision, he didn’t even own a passport. But Earth was different. After only a short time in space, it felt like home in an almost primal way. He knew what Mellok was feeling. Perhaps only a fraction, but it still stung worse than anything Michael had ever felt.

“To the dreadnought?” Clive said. His incorporeal form was standing perfectly still just behind Michael’s seat, unphased by the shaking of the ship. Clive had stepped in quickly and effortlessly, controlling the communications console with his mind. Mellok was sat by the console itself, not moving, an understandable shadow cast over him. His feathers had shifted colour to a near-perfect black.

“No. To everyone. The planet, the dreadnought, anyone who will listen.”

Clive nodded. “The line is open, just speak.”

Michael suddenly felt like he was back atop the bus, listing out pre-rehearsed facts to aliens with blank stares. “Attention, everyone. This is the knower of truths. Yes, that one. I am uh… issuing a holy order. Substrate dreadnought you are to break off your attack and return to your space. Friendly ships in orbit, you are to fall in behind The Sword of Truth. Our aegis will protect you.” Michael was proud of the word aegis, plucking it from the depths of his mind, no doubt from some video game he had spent much too long playing. Michael drew his finger across his throat, attempting to signal for Clive to cut the line. The supposed human just shrugged in response. “End message,” Michael said out loud, hoping the AI would get the hint.

“Line closed,” Clive said.

“So, are we doing the messiah thing now?” Aileena said.

“For these people,” Michael replied. “Yes. We owe them that.”

The Sword swung into position, energy cascading off its shield. The dreadnought had turned to meet it, the terrifying main cannon slamming against the sphere of azure energy. The Sword returned fire, pillars of blazing blue light erupting from the shield like geysers, the energy of the dreadnought’s guns thrown back at it. It was a fight the Sword would be winning, were it not for the remnants of the pirate fleet throwing their own weaponry into the fray. The dreadnought had suffered a number of hits, huge chunks stone blasted off into space, the gaps in the hull glowing orange from the heat of the weapons fire. Still, it pressed its attack, sensing it had its prey on the back foot.

Behind the duelling starships, a cloud of vessels had begun to gather together. Civilians ships of a hundred different designs, from two-man shuttles to large cargo haulers. They had all pulled tight to the side of the Sword, just outside its shield, hugging their protector for shelter. More were arriving with every moment, their number even including two Council patrol ships that had taken off from the surface. That was a problem that would need to be dealt with later, the Sword and her crew had bigger issues to contend with.

Michael felt a shudder, as another heavy hit shook the shield. He was watching the viewscreen that displayed the fleet of refugees that was gathering behind them. It was growing, slowly, but it was never going to be big enough. Not really.

“How much longer can we stay here?” Michael said. His chest was starting to hurt, every shake pulling his chair straps against him. The gel cushioning had hardened, presumably to prevent someone from getting stuck in the event they needed to abandon ship.

The cloud of nanobots currently forming Kestok’s head shook. “I don’t know exactly; this is weird ancient technology we’re playing with. We’re losing power relays all over the ship. The bigger problem is that we can’t leave yet. The jump drive needs another hour or two to charge.”

“An hour? That’s too long.”

“Or two. Again, ancient tech with a weird setup. Who knows how long it takes to charge a double matrix drive? Twice as long, half as long? No idea. One thing I am certain of is that the charge rate is lower than normal. The ship is definitely rerouting power to that shield.”

“So, we’ve got the problem of both too much power, and somehow not enough at the same time.” Michael rubbed the side of his temples. Actually trying at this messiah thing was difficult. “We need to do something about that dreadnought then. Before our shield goes and we’re blasted to bits.”

“What do you think we’re trying to do?” Aileena was staring at the console before her. “I can’t evade, not with us screening those ships.”

“They’re taking a pounding, the dreadnought,” Brekt added. His voice was still his usual calm soft tone, despite the battle raging around him. “They build those things to last it seems. We should have gotten one of those.”

“I’ll be sure to ask next time aliens hand us a free battleship,” Michael said.

“Well, I mean, it’s how we got this one.”

“Fair point. Don’t we have any, I don’t know? Torpedoes? Missiles? Anything like that?”

“We’ve got the shield, and that’s it,” Brekt said. “We spent all that time looking for weapons, remember?”

“That was Hircada lake,” Mellok said. His voice was quiet, yet somehow attention-grabbing, as if the mass of his words caused them to barrel around the room. The screen on the console before him was focusing on a nightmare sight. The weapons fire of the dreadnought had raked the countryside, leaving only a streak of still molten glass in its wake. “I went there, every summer, as a child. It’s gone.”