The Isessa Lee roared into the skies. Gravity slowly loosening it's grip as the world below became further and further.
The people sat silently in their thousands of seats. The entire bowel of the craft was eerily quiet. Even the children. As the cold ventilated air swirled around them, as the vessel bumped and shuddered.
The pilots, forcing the great ship upwards. Silent. Yet one's eyes watched carefully as a set of dials slowly spun among a haze of glowing controls.
The Vectorised Magnetic Propulsion drive had slowly began to cool, as gravity ceased it's friction upon it's intricate internet mechanics. The large device that had flung civilization into the depths of the galaxy, was ready to do it's part.
The pilot sat front and center of the ship's bridge, lifted his eyes from the glowing controls, and stated to his fellows in a clear and simple voice.
"We are clear for Post-Light."
In a single motion, without awaiting agreement, a lever was thrown down. The Isesa Lee, felt the great magnetic forces of the drive grip it in action.
Yet people felt nothing, even as the very iron in their blood was taken into the field.
In an instant, the starship ceased to exist. Throwing itself at an incredible speed out and away. Throwing itself towards the only place in the entire galaxy they felt they could go.
Towards the nation of the Galaxy Center Defenders.
At the pure speeds of light and more, the vessel left Taraven in a blink.
No poetry, no goodbyes. Just a blink, and nothing more.
In a small tight room, sat with his wife and son. Police gear taken off, and resting on a small bunk bed. George smiled as he felt the once familiar feeling of a VMP drive.
=
The Orion-Class Ferolder lumbered upwards too. Lifting from the skies of the Savanna of Yarnada. Lifting into the atmosphere like a great vessel in a rough ocean.
It's fleet followed it, like it was a shield. Up and through the vast Last Stand fleet that encircled and clouded them. Up and past. Up and beyond. Twelve Vessels and one Ferolder.
The two Rippers that had been damaged before, and the second of the two Dementors had risen back up from their repairs when the hostile fleet had arrived.
Both sides still aimed their weaponry at each other, ready for a betrayal of this careful peace.
Redforest clung to his seat, as gravity slowly lost it's grip, and the fields of their Vectorised Magnetic Propulsion Intensified drive began to pull on him instead.
In the distance, the small transport ship finally escaped his sight, then followed by a blink of light confirmed his thoughts.
Good.
Around him, officers and crew looked at him. Eyes that stabbed through rank and position.
Were they abandoning a mission?
Or doing what was correct?
Regardless, Redforest's eyes had gone blank with thought.
First Officer Roven Orsentev's words broke the solid cold silence.
"Sir, Bing-Round Transmission to Regional Command has returned!"
For the first time in hours, Redforest felt life strike him like lightning.
His body flew from it's seat, and his form darted to the console of Orsentev.
In a single force, he thrust Roven aside, and pulled the console closer to his face.
The pale orange of the screen giving his eyes a raging glow.
- - -
TRANSMISSION CLASS:
- HIGH-COMBAT-RELATIVE
#BING-ROUND TRANSMISSION#
ENCRYPTION STATUS:
- DECODED
- - -
VALIDITY WITHIN 100%
- - -
FROM: S.C. 033,867,432,998
Superior Captain.
TO:
H.R.A 11:883,245,669
High Regional Admiral.
ORIGINAL MESSAGE:
ORION-CLASS FEROLDER "OLIANDRES" : "GIMINI" FLEET - 45#181#832
REQUESTING CONFIRMATION OF # ACTION: S:00462 # ON TARAVEN:45-7-7-4
SUPERIOR ADMIRAL REVANNA HAS CONFIRMED THIS ORDER, HOWEVER FELLOW FORCES DO NOT RECOGNISE AUTHENTICITY.
HIGH-COMBAT-RELATIVE EVENT IN CURRENT ACTION.
SUPERIOR CAPTAIN: CORNELIUS REDFOREST : 45#181#832
SUPERIOR CAPTAIN: AEMA ELLARIA : 45#182#203
MUTUAL DAMAGE POSSIBILITY : EXCESSIVE
CONFLICTING ; ORDER AWARENESS.
CONFLICT LOCATION : TARAVEN:45-7-7-4
#Data File Attached#
TRANSMISSION DATE: 3232/01/4 RET
OBTRAXION Q: #06#00#
- -
RESPONSE MESSAGE:
EXTENDED TO:
S.C. 043,002,728
Superior Captain.
HIGH REGIONAL ADMIRAL:
ORDER IS FALSE
DISENGAGE.
DISENGAGE.
THIS RESPONSE EXTENDED TO : ELLARIA.
THAT ORDER IS NULL.
HOLD ALL CONFLICT ACTIONS.
TARAVEN IS STAND.
TARAVEN IS STAND.
SUPERIOR ADMIRAL REVANNA IS SUSPENDED OF RANK.
HOLD ALL FIRE.
REGIONAL ENFORCER COMPANY EN ROUTE. "YARATARUS" COMPANY 45#180#001
TRANSMISSION DATE: 3232/01/4 RET
OBTRAXION Q: #06#05#
- - -
Silence. Furious, enraged silence.
Silence that blotted out the sun, and burned the trees.
Redforest's blood boiled to a point that had he been bear foot, the steel at his feet would be molten.
In one motion his form swung around, and propelled itself towards his command station. In a bellowing howl, the likes of which have only been seen once before, he declared to his officers.
"Gentlemen. Our Bing-Round transmission to High-Regional has stated that our Orders are false. Superior Admiral Revanna is ripped of rank."
The word "riot" can be used to express a show of mass displeasure at a state of affairs.
However, in this case. "Riotous" would be excessively insufficient for describing the officers that surrounded him and the shouting that rose.
In a raised fist, Redforest gripped the sound, and silenced them.
"Roven, get me Superior Admiral Revanna's last location. Scan the entire region for her Admirals Craft as necessary, and verify that Superior Captain Ellaria receives this."
Roven's fingers already sharply connecting with a plethora of buttons, and the scanning operators already getting to work, gave silent confirmation.
The Ferolder could find any starship it wanted to. So long as it was familiar with it's Vector Trail. Even if it was in Post-Light speed, it could be hunted down.
Redforest stood. As he does. His hands shivvering. Legs buckling. Tears dryed up, and rage exhausted.
But. This time he did not fall.
This time he stood.
The source of his anger had been confirmed.
Revanna, had lied to him.
And now she would not escape him.
YOU ARE READING
World In Turmoil
Science FictionAmongst the empires of the galaxy. Between the factions and the territories. On a rustic world left to itself. A young man had heros once... They were a force sworn to protect. They were a navy of saviours. In a time of need. ...
