The Anarchist, outer space above Athena Two, March of 8096 AL.
"Would someone please explain to me how someone hijacked one of our patrol ships?" Salem demanded as he stomped onto the bridge of the Anarchist. "Of all the days we could have a security breach, it had to be today?"
The command bridge of his cruiser was smaller than it looked; a ramp extended from the entrance up to the command platform where he would issue orders and oversee his fleets during combat. Beneath the platform was several rows of computer consoles manned by his command crew; a group of officers that helped control the ship as it blasted its way through battlefields. On the command platform there was a row of chairs behind a curved table where the Grey family ate their meals and performed mission briefings. During combat the table would lower into the floor, allowing Salem and Augustus easy access to the starmap; a massive computer console with a holographic three-dimensional map set onto a grid pattern, the starmap served as the Anarchist's primary control system, as well as offering a tactical view of the battlefield within a hundred million kilometers of the ship or another specified location.
"I think I've got a rough explanation," Jaeger's voice came from the starmap as Salem reached the top of the ramp, taking his seat in the center of the table. His family was close behind him, each of them taking their own place as a holographic man in furs and a horned helmet appeared beside the starmap.
"Shoot," Salem grumbled, looking at his brother out of the corner of his eye, "Give me that, I need it more than you do."
He swiped his brother's flask and stole a swig, earning an annoyed glare from the family drunk. Augustus regularly tried to sneak sips from his precious flask, but he wasn't half as stealthy as he believed himself to be.
"The pilot's been identified as Franklin Gallagher," the holographic viking leaned forward on his longbow, twirling his blonde beard absentmindedly with one finger. "He's one of ours, or at least he used to be. He flunked out of basic training; dishonorable discharge for multiple charges of drunk and disorderly in uniform, after his discharge he applied for a travel visa to the Apostle system where we're assuming he signed on with one of the spacer cartels."
"How did he manage to steal one of our Wolverines?" Korana asked.
"The original pilot for the Wolverine was found dead aboard the Heretic," Jaeger answered, "The Wolverines that patrolled the airspace outside the hall were launched from the flagship seven hours before the signing, it's assumed Gallagher stowed away aboard the Heretic, killed the pilot and took his place. He managed to blend in for quite a while without arousing suspicion."
"Why?" Salem asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, "If Gargantuan wanted us dead, he should've just bombed the signing. Gallagher never fired any of the Wolverine's missiles."
"It wasn't an assassination attempt, then," Augustus said, "He was sending a message, for whatever reason."
"Are our colonies ready?" Salem sighed, looking up at his AI.
"I've received confirmation from two hundred and twenty colonies that their defense fleets are in position and on alert, within the hour we'll have every ship battle-ready and prepared for an attack," Jaeger responded, then his face twisted into a worried look as he was interrupted.
"Urgent message sir!" A voice shouted from below the command platform; his communications officer stood and turned towards the helm. "The Stonehaaryn flagship has sent up a distress beacon, they're under attack!"
"Which flagship?" Salem sat up suddenly.
"The Endless Curse," Jaeger said, "Seth's ship. They're passing through Pyrotus system; we're the closest responders."
"Plot a slipspace jump," Salem ordered, "We're not letting the Titanus get him."
"Not Titanus, sir," the communications officer cut in, "Machinae cruisers are closing on Desriel's escort."
"Twice in one day, aren't we lucky," Salem sighed to himself, "How long until we're in position to jump?"
"Slipspace rupture found," shouted one of the command crew, "Preparing to jump. Ready!"
"On my mark," Salem took a strong grip on the arms of his chair, "Jump!"
The world shrank, the pressure in the room increased exponentially, and Salem felt the familiar gut-wrenching pull as he made the near instantaneous jump through slipspace to Seth's aid.
YOU ARE READING
The Grey Chronicles Part One: New Declaration of An Old War
Science FictionSalem Grey has finally negotiated a peace treaty between the Machinae, a war born culture descended from the remnants of the human race, and the Stonehaaryn Coalition, an alien race with blue skin and pointed ears. Both factions were formerly enslav...