3619
Secret Arm Research Facility, Gamma Oriens II – 2300 Hours
Commander Mototada tried to ignore the deep shadows that engulfed entire sections of corridor. Outside of his chassis, he felt vulnerable and weak. The dimmed lights of the night cycle were definately not helping things any. Why was it that every secret meeting for every discovery he'd ever witnessed been so late? However, he shivered with anticipation as he approached the massive blast door. As base commander, he was required to personally witness and approve major projects before he could allocate resources to further study.
Mototada sumitted to the required retinal scan and voice identification. With an affirming beep, the door hissed open. He entered a small closet-sized airlock, and swiftly dressed in one of the durable environment suits lined up along one wall. Once garbed in the protective garment, he keyed open the inside hatch, and mentally prepared himself. He hated this particular lab.
The chamer was huge. Impossibly huge in fact, as it was over three light-minutes in diameter, yet resided inside of a relavtively small building buried in the crust of the ball of rock known to the Arm as Gamma Oriens II. The chamber was actually not in the building, but resided in it's own dimension. Scale was meaningless inside, since the minds of most intelligent species simply could not grasp what they were seeing. Only a few hundred yards from the hatch, rested a massive... contraption. Mototada could not for the life of him figure it out, but it certainly looked promising.
One of the nearest scientists, a dolphin, jetted over to the Commander. "Commander, welcome to our laboratory," it clicked, "Our demonstration is prepared."
With that, the dolphin slipped away, and the lead researcher, a Dr. Huxley, settled into a mesh hammock, and a nueral jack rose from a panel, and slipped into the link on the back of his skull, through a notch in his enviro suit. Suddenly, the great machine whirred, and a coiled protrusion extended from within, and swiveled to point out into empty space. A charge began building, sending blue streamers of Cherenkov radiation flaring out from the coils. To the Commander's shock, it resembled nothing more than a fancy weapon, which was confirmed in his mind when a rippling violet bolt blasted out of the tip, and soared off. Ten seconds later, there was a massive discharge from out across the chamber. The bolt had dissapeared from view almost immediately, but now, something strange was happening. A spiral of blue energy appeared far off, and began to swell larger at an amazing rate.
Mototada found himself gaping as the vortex expanded to a amazing diameter of almost twenty light-seconds. Through the glare, he could see... stars? He turned to the dolphin. "What are we seeing?"
"That, Commander, is another dimension. What your are seeing are the stars of a galaxy exactly similar to ours in almost every respect."
"Almost every? I take it that some things are a bit different," he gestured, "over there?"
The dolphin whistled in the dolphin version of laughter. "A rather significant difference, actually. You see, we've already sent in some probes, and none of them have picked up any Arm, or even Core, transmissions."
The implication hit home. "You mean we don't exist over there?"
"Not necessarily. There is no reason to believe that Old Terra does not exist over there. However, the Arm and Core do not appear to have existed." It bobbed its head. "Of course, there is always the possibility of temporal dislocation."
Mototada frowned. "So now that you can use this device reliably, what are your plans for it?"
The dolphin spun lazily. "We would very much like to send a manned scout ship in to that particular dimension, and discover what we can. If there is an abundance of planets, similar to this dimension, we can set up operations there and begin exapnding. This would be a major advantage over the Core."
The Commander nodded. "Yes, I can see your point. Resource gathering has been our top prority for some time. I will contact Arm High Command immediately about this."
The dolphin twitched its tail. "Thank you, Commander. When Dr. Huxley finishes with this round of testing, I will inform him."
Mototada nodded, and with a sigh of relief, exited the chamber, and entered the air lock. Slipping out of the suit, he opened the hatch, and set off back through the dreary corridors to his office. This time, his mind was too preoccupied to worry about shadows and darkness. However, it was with some relief that he entered the well-lit lift at the end of the hall. "Level 5," he called out. With an acknowledging beep, the lift began humming, and the neon green indicator swiftly advanced from 480 to 5.
The door to his officed hissed open welcomingly, and Mototada dropped into his desk chair, which molded itself to fit his posture. He reached out and touched a panel on his desk. Immediately, a neural jack snaked out and plugged into his skull. Now, in full mental control of his office, he set to work.
The lights dimmed slightly to his liking, and a hatch on his desktop snapped open and a tall glass of a tropical fruit juice popped up. Mototada took a long sip, then put the glass down, and swiveled to face a wall, which promptly lit up. Suddenly, the Arm logo flared to life on the screen. A few moments passed in silence while the link was activated, and then the logo was replaced with the dour image of Mototada's sector Commander.
The balding man leaned foward, and smiled. "Commander, it is good to hear from you again. Is there anything I can do for you? Or have your scientists made a breakthrough?"
Mototada almost grinned. High Commander Robart Isgard had not been promoted for nothing. Speaking quickly, Mototada explained. Isgard's eyebrows rose higher and higher throught the narrative. Finally, as Mototada finished, he spoke.
"That sounds very promising Commander. I'll send the reports to Arm High Command," seeing Mototada's face fall, he continued. "However, you have my go-ahead. How many starships do you have in orbit currently?"
Mototada called up the information through his neural link. "Six heavy cruisers, twelve destroyers, and 184 assorted smaller craft."
Isgard tapped his desk in concentration. "Those aren't particularly important just yet, so take your pick. I can spare two of the cruisers, and five of the destroyers. Take your pick of landing craft and planetary garrision. That should be sufficient to establish a base on the other side." He paused. "Anything else, Commander?"
Mototada nodded. "Yes sir. Who should I place in charge of the expedition? I must remain here."
"I'll leave that choice up to you. I'm giving you the authority to promote that person to junior Commander rank. Fit them out with a Commander chassis."
"Yes sir. And while we are talking sir, may I inquire as to the general state of the War?"
Isgard grimaced. "You people should be safe for now. We're holding a line fifteen parsecs from Gamma Oriens, but losses are very heavy. They brought in several Dreadnoughts, and we lost over a hundred ships taking out just one of them. And worse, we have intelligence that they may be sending a command ship here." Isgard shook his head sadly. "I really hope that report doesn't prove to be true. High Command is diverting a fleet here, so we'll be on better ground with thirty-thousand reinforcements."
Mototada nodded sharply. "Yes sir. Gamma Oriens II, out."
The image blinked off the screen, to be replaced with a real-time image from Empyrrean's famous Crystal Shore. He stared idilly at the punding surf as he debated over who he would promote. There was Harison, his technical second in command, who was probably the most blindly loyal man in the army. Unfortunately, he was not much of a free thinker. Mototada needed someone who could adapt to radical circumstances. Baxter? No, the man was the most incredible pessimist, and not much of a leader. Suddenly he sat up. "Of course!"
Secret Arm Research Facility, Gamma Oriens II – 0200 Hours
A shrill beeping spiked through the warm comfort of the darkened room. Senior Liuetenant Marla Toric groaned miserably, and hesistated for a moment, preferring to remain under the snug, soft bed cover. Of course, duty got the better of her, and she called out, "Lights!" As the room began to fill with soft light, she clumsily staggered over to the nearby wall. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered to herself, donning her robe.
She clomped over to the small vidscreen mounted over her sparse dining table, and settling into the closest force-chair, announced, "Vid, on." She began to yawn, but choked it down when Commander Mototada's grim visage appeared. At least he doesn't look as annoyed as usual, she thought.
Mototada spared not a second. "Lieutenant Toric, you will report to my office immediately, for new orders."
She stifled a surprised gasp. She couldn't imagine any reason for a summons, orders or no. "Yes sir!" she snapped, not caring how rediculous that sounded in her present attire.
Mototada nodded briskly, and said, "Oh, Lieutenant, you might want to dress first." It was with an amused twinkle in his eye that he broke the connection.
Toric leaped up like she'd been hit with a shock rod. Tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, she raced for the shower, ordering the computer to have a fresh uniform ready for her, when she got out.
In record time, she was jogging down the corridor outside of her room, and leaping between the closing doors of the lift at the end of the hall, breathed a sigh of relief as the doors snapped shut, and the lift began it's ascent to the upper levels.
A few moments later found her seated in a rigid, cold metal chair in front of Mototada's desk. He deliberately ignored her for a moment, perusing something that she couldn't see on his personal vidscreen. Finally though, when she could stand the silence no longer, she cleared her throat. The sound seemed to rouse the Commander. He glanced up, almost as if just noticing her sitting there.
Silently, he got up, and walking around the broad desk, began to circle her, studying her like a predator. He quietly stepped around her, and circled until once again, he stood in front of her, obscuring her view of his desk.
"Lieutenant." It was a simple statement, nothing more. Another pause. "I understand you never served in the Arm spaceforce?"
"Yes sir," she replied.
"So you have no shipboard experience?"
"No sir."
Mototada grunted. "Do you know First Sargeant Tarn?"
"Yes sir, he served in my section for several months," she answered.
The Commander nodded once. "Good, he did serve in the space-navy."
As the unbearable silence settled over the room once again, Toric could stand it no longer. Leaping out of her seat, she stood toe-to-toe with the Commander. "Sir, with all due respect, why the interrogation?"
Mototada's face hardened. "You presume to question my orders?"
"When your orders make no sense, and you interrogate me needlessly, yes I do." She finished with a huffed, "Sir."
Instead of the reprimand she expected, Mototada smiled broadly now. "That is exactly what I hoped to hear." He held up a hand to silence the forthcoming questions. Instead, he stepped over to his desk, and reaching behind his vidscreen, pulled out a small black box. Walking back over to Toric, he presented the case with great ceremony, and lifted the lid.
Even as she saw the glint of gold, Toric's heart went into her throat.
There, nestled among synthesized velvet padding, lay the glittering golden Arm insignia, and on either side, the silver bars of Commander, third-class.
Toric gasped in awe, and Mototada chuckled. "Lieutenant," he began, but caught himself. "Commander Toric, as your commanding officer, I am extremely pleased to present you with the rank of Commander, junior grade, third-class." With a flourish, he removed her lieutenant's emblem, and affixed the new one to her collar. Slipping the case back onto his desktop, he motioned her to stand, and gravely shook her hand. "Let me be the first to congratulate you, Commander."
Toric gaped, but managed to choke out, "T-Thank you, sir!"
Mototada laughed again, at her discomfiture. "Of course, Commander, your new rank implies new responsibilities." He sighed, and returned to his seat behind his desk. "I have an opening for a Commander, and I needed the best person for the job." He nodded briefly in her direction.
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me just yet, at least not until you hear the specifics." Mototada cautioned. "Scientists in Hyperspace Chamber 040 have made an amazing discovery. In fact, so amazing, the details are classified to all military personnel below Commander rank, and the scientists on the project." He paused for emphasis. "Keep that in mind, at all times."
Troic interuppted. "Sir, this is interesting, but what do you need me to do?"
"Slow down, Commander. The discovery was a welcome accident. While attempting to create a longer ranged, and possibly temporal bypassing version of the common Galactic Gate starship drive, the researchers stumbled upon an alternate universe." Toric started to speak, but Mototada nailed her with a glare. "The potential of such a device is such that we cannot allow the Core to ever learn of it. Myself, in conjunction with High Commander Isgard, have determined to begin exploitation of resources in this new dimension. This sort of resource, and eventually, warship, influx might be the deciding factor against the Core." Mototada stood, and gave the vidwall a mental command, revealing an image of the hyperspace chamber.
Two massive Arm cruisers dominated the scene, having hyperspaced into the precise coordinates. Several smaller vessels of various design and function surrounded them. All of them were in the process of being loaded with various supplies and equipment, tiny worker craft towing loads into the holds of the vessels.
Mototada gestured at the view. "Commander, as you by now have guessed, we are going to send Arm ships into this alternate dimension to acertain it's value to us, and to begin construction of a secure base of operations." He turned pointedly back to Toric. "Are you up to the challenge, Commander?"
Toric straightened, and stood, stiffly. "Commander Mototada, it would be my honor."
Mototada nodded approvingly, and turned back to the screen, as Toric slipped out of the office to prepare herself, and her crew.
Secret Arm Research Facility, Gamma Oriens II – 0430
Liuetenant (Commander, she mentally corrected, with no small amount of surprise) Toric pressed the vaccuum seals shut on her enviro suit inside the cluttered airlock. She felt the familiar hiss of contained life-support as she pulled the sealed hood over he head, being careful to keep her hair out of the way of the seals. She waited a moment for the suit to adjust itself to the perfect fit, hugging itself to her body, and sounding a small mental impulse to signify its readiness.
Toric inhaled deeply, and somewhat nervously. It was silly, she knew, but the sheer enormity of the hyperspace chamber chilled her to the bone, with some nameless, primal fear that all the logic and reason in the universe could not dispel. Steeling herself against a space so vast it could scarcly be imagined, let alone visualized, she gave the airlock door a mental command, and it rolled open with a rediculous ceremony of rumbling and hissing.
Focusing on the floor directly ahead of her, Toric picked her way across a veritable minefield of equipment and scattered refuse. Only when someone spoke did she look up, and then, not more than required to make eye-contact.
With an enthusiastic shout, Toric's new second in command, the newly promoted Lieutenant Palnor Tarn, drew her attention. "Hey, Commander, what're you doing up at this pattern-loving hour of the morning? I thought only us lesser beings had to be up now," he teased gently.
Toric groaned, and ignored the jibe, eliciting a laugh from the Lieutenant, who was safely out of her reach. "Don't remind me, Palnor, I haven't gotten my coffee-ration yet. Just give me the overview of what I'm supposed to command."
Palnor Tarn's eyebrows rose in mock indignation. "How dare they!" He laughed again. "Ok, commander, you've been handed a command that most Navy captains would be jealous of. Surprised you haven't noticed yet." He pointed upwards, still watching her.
Toric sighed, and followed the finger with her eyes. "I hear we got a couple of sh..." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes went wide as she actually understood what she was seeing. "...it." Directly over her head, looking like nothing so much as an upside down metropolis, hovered about a half-dozen large vessels... which were dwarfed by two others. Gaping at the incredible sight, Toric barely heard Tarn's chuckle.
"They did that to all of us at first, except for the navy boys, of course. The big one is our command ship, a heavy cruiser, the Dauntless. The smaller one is the light cruiser Barathrum. The others are destroyers," he glanced down at the screen in his hand. "Rogue, Delbay, Montressor, Tkon, and Beldra. The rest are either patrol corvettes, or landing craft, which are being loaded now."
Toric gulped, fighing vertigo. Taking in the enormity of it all, she unconciously measured herself up to this great task. "Um.. just how big is that thing?" She used the question as an excuse to look down at her second, annoyed that he wasn't as discomfited as she.
"Which, the Dauntless?" Tarn waited for the affirming nod, and went on, consulting the small palm-screen. "She's 168.7 kilometers from stem to stern. A crew compliment of 12,630, 4,000 pilots, and an additional quartering for 740,000 soldiers and their units." Tarn took a breath, and started ticking off the highlights. "She's got the latest in weaponry and targetting, grade six dimensional flux shields, full hyperspace and galactic gate generation, four onboard cloning facilities, and of course, the dimensional transfer device is being mounted on it as we speak."
Toric eyed the ships somewhat skeptically. "It doesn't look that big."
"Oh, it wouldn't," responded Tarn, "it's about six hundred kilometers above us, so it looks somewhat smaller. Before Toric could interject another pointless remark, a cargo shuttle touched down nearby, drawing the Commander's attention, much to Tarn's relief. "Ah, Commander, this is our ride. Commander Mototada wants us to depart at the earliest convienience."
Toric started to follow, then stopped. "Now? I haven't packed yet, and I've barely been briefed!"
Tarn flashed her a pitying look. "That's right, you've never been in the Navy. You don't bring any clothes. The all-purpose nano-lather in your quarters will create a new uniform for you every day, since there's no room to store a wardrobe. As for your briefing, Captain Gerard has the details."
But Toric was still digesting the clothing deal. "Not enough room? That blazing thing is almost two hundred klicks long! How can they not have enough room for a closet for their commanding officer?"
Tarn's patience was slipping rapidly, and not for the first time, he wondered how he drew this assignment. "Commander, nearly one third of the entire ship's volume is taken up by the drives, the atomic motors, and weapons. Another third is taken up by the hangers, and battleunit maintenance facilities, and the last has to support nearly a million soldiers and sailors from more than six dozen species, many of which need seperate life-support systems. Space is at a premium here." He paused at the open shuttle airlock, and gestured Toric inside.
For her part, Toric merely sighed irritably, and proceeded him into the shuttle. "So who is Captain Gerard, and why does he know more than I do?" Toric asked.
"He's the Captain of the Dauntless, and commander of this fleet." Tarn supplied.
Toric frowned. "I thought I was in overall command?" she asked, self-conciously fingering the new rank bar affixed to her collar.
"Oh, you are." Tarn said. "You make the big decisions. But on his ship, it's his rules. You can make him fight, but he decides where, how, and when. You're free to order him of course, but he doesn't have to listen, if what you suggest involves anything that puts his ship at risk."
Toric settled back into the seat, which helpfully molded itself to accomodate. She had a lot to learn about the complexities of command rank, but it seemed like Mototada wasn't going to give her time to figure it out. She wondered why briefly, but then found her attention drawn to the viewports where she could observe the ground drop away suddenly, and vanish in the mist-that-wasn't-there, while the giant sleek shapes overhead grew larger and larger.
Secret Arm Research Facility, Gamma Oriens II – 0530
The conference room aboard the Dauntless was a bit more cramped than the small auditorium used by the base commander to address his large staff. In fact, it was merely a semi-circular room, only large enough to contain the table that matched the room's shape. Around the inside curve of the wall were holographic displays of the several dozen planets that Dauntless had fought for. Arrayed around the outside curve of the table sat the senior staff, while Toric sat at the center of the flat end, flanked by Tarn and Captain Gerard.
As soon as they were all sitting, Gerard introduced his staff. Stanya Redrik, a lean, blonde woman, was the chief cloning scientist aboard. To her left sat Colonel Zau Rikett, a massively built heavyworlder, and commander of the XIX Corps, who made up the troop complement for the mission. The next officer appeared to be a spindly bundle of limbs folded into a geometrically unsound version of a chair. A Zhe'tlik, Omandro H'ting was the ship's chief gunnery officer and first mate. Dauntless's Chief Medical Officer was Durand Ray, a sallow faced man who was apparently more at home in his laboratory than in any social setting. Finally, there was Professor Seyda, who floated a foot over the floor ensconed in his brine-filled environmental suit which suited his dolphin physiology much better than the raw air. He flipped his tail at Toric in a dolphin greeting as he introduced himself as Dr. Huxely's assistant on the project, and scientist in charge of the dimensional gateway device.
Introductions completed, Captain Gerard walked over to the corner of the room where he could face the entire assemblage. "As you are all by now aware," he began, "our scientists here have created a gateway to a parallel dimension." He gave Seyda a pointed look. "So far, we have had time to send several probes, and one manned scout vessel into the gateway, and have learned several things. First, apparently neither the Arm or Core exist in this dimension. History as we know it has never occured. We don't know what we will find over there, but we do know that all Galactic references are basically the same, as this alternate galaxy is almost perfectly identical to our own in most repects." Gerard's eyes rolled slightly, a barely noticable physical indication of a silent mental command he was issuing the computer. In the middle of the table, a brilliantly clear hologram of the galaxy appeared, rotating slowly. "Secondly," he continued, "we know that the transfer between dimensions has no discernable effect on organic tissue or computers. So we have recieved the final word from Commander Mototada. In six hours, this fleet will enter the gateway, and begin a basic exploration mission. We are to construct a deep space facility near the gateway on the other side, and return in thirty-six hours." Gerard paused, and looked around the room at the expectant faces, and finally settled on Toric. "Any questions?"
From the other end of the room, Omandro H'Ting unfolded himself slightly, and waved several limbs about in a gesture of finality. "Other than the dimensional transfer part, it sounds fairly routine," the computer said, automatically translating the Zhe'tlik's natural language, which sounded to most humans not unlike a burbling brook.
Gerard grimaced, and ignored his second in command. "Good. Now, if there are no further questions, we'll..." The Captain's voice trailed off, and the blood drained from his face. Barely a second later, alarms began to blare loudly, followed by computer-issued warnings.
Toric leaped to her feet, mimiced by the other legged beings in the room. "What's going on!" she bellowed above the racket. When the answer wasn't immediately forthcoming by the scrambling officers, she grabbed Tarn by the shoulder, shouting, "Dammit Liuetenant, somebody tell me what's happening!"
Tarn closed his eyes in concentration, ignoring the continued wailing in the background. After what seemed a small eternity to Toric, Tarn's eyes flickered open, and his face was as pale as the captain's. "Commander! It's Core!"
"What?" She was having trouble wrapping her mind around the concept. After all, she had spent the last century on Gamma Oriens, and not once in that span had a Core ship dared to come within a thousand parsecs. She felt fingers grab her shoulder roughly, and looking down, was surprised to see that it was Gerard, who appeared to have composed himself after the initial shock.
"Commander," he said, "come with me." As he pulled her towards the door leading to the Dauntless's bridge, he called out, drowning out the fading alarm. "All senior officers to their stations! Professor Seyda, have the guard outside the door escort you to your quarters, and do not, under any circumstances, leave until this is over." Toric heard the dolphin begin to protest, but that was cut off by the door slamming shut behind her as Gerard propelled her onto the bridge.
Gerard wasted no time, and even as he took his central command chair, he was demanding status reports from frantic bridge officers.
Toric stood awkwardly at the back of the bridge, probably the only person without an assigned station or duty. She tried to at least look busy, by peering intently at the readout screens along the back wall, wich she hated to admit were mostly incomprehensible to her. She was concentrating so hard, in fact, that she almost didn't hear the bellowed, "Commander, report!"
Gaping, Toric spun around, taking in the wide circular bridge, it's hurried crew complement, the wide holoscreen which wrapped around the entire front wall; and the face that filled it. Instantly, she snapped to attention trying to hide her initial startled jump. "Commander Mototada, sir! Situation down here is," she glanced over at Captain Gerard for confirmation, "nominal. What's the situation in the base sir?" she ventured.
Mototada scowled grimly. "It's not looking good Commander. We aren't going to be having any interdimensional exursions anytime soon. I want you take your fleet, and get out of here any way you can." Before Toric could protest, Mototada blinked, and the view on the bridge of the Dauntless switched to a satellite view of Gamma Oriens II from high orbit. In the near distance no less than six Core destroyers, massive black sillouettes against the stars, were being engaged by the remains of the Arm guard fleet. Clouds of fightercraft, too small to be seen individually at this distance, swarmed around the much larger capital ships, and wreckage already drifted about like so much interstellar litter. Even as the bridge crew watched, stunned into silence, an Arm cruiser equally as large as Dauntless collaped in half, as a Core D-cannon shell slammed through the cruiser's impotent defenses, and punched through the ship like a railgun through cardboard.
"Oh God..." someone gasped.
They continued to watch the raging battle for a few moments, until in a flare of ruby laser-fire, the video feed went dead. The Dauntless and her escorts were badly outmatched, and the crew knew it.
Suddenly, Commander Mototada's scowling face reappeared on the screen, the cavernous interior of the combat unit bay vanishing into the hazy distance behind him. Even as a lift began carrying him to the cockpit of his Commander chassis, he turned and looked through the bridge crew, and right at Toric. "Commander Toric. The responsibility of this operation is yours now. We'll hold them off on the ground as long as we can, but they've been firing on our heavier defenses from orbit. You must remember to always put the people under your command first, they are your responsibility. And above all, the Core must not discover what we've done here. Leave no traces."
Before Toric could respond, the screen went blank. She felt an involuntary sob well up, but she quickly pushed it down. No time for that now. She turned to Gerard. "Captain, activate the dimensional transfer array."
Taking that chance with his ship rankled Gerard, but he knew better than she did that it was too late to escape. Core ships would intercept them in hyperspace long before they could get out a warning to other Arm forces. Taking a deep breath, he issued the order. In front of the ship, a massive blue-rimmed window opened, looking out on the stars of another universe. "Helm, take us through slowly," Gerard commanded. The enormous Arm space cruiser, and it's smaller escorts, began easing forward toward the rift in space-time.
And that's when something else went wrong. A sensors tech looked up from his screens. "Captain, we've got an incoming hyperspace signature!" Even as the words left his mouth, with a command from Gerard, the main viewscreen switched to a new view. Even as Toric watched, horrified, the distinct jet-black forms of two Core destroyers phased out of hyperspace, seeming to fade from nowhere. A small range indicated under both ships showed them to still be over sixteen light-seconds away, but under the powerful magnification, they seemed terrifyingly close.
Gerard swore explosively. "Helm, full speed ahead! Starboard batteries, open fire!"
Toric found herself being edged towards the back of the bridge area as Gerard took decisive action. She watched the viewscreens wide-eyed, as literally thousands of weapons exchanged fire across the vast distance. Ruby red laser bolts were faded to barely visible streaks as heavier green lasers, dimmed by the ship's filters, raced across the distance at near light-speed. Amidst the cross fire, she could spot occasional streaks of missiles and plasma rounds as the range closed. She found herself awestruck by the ferocity of the exchange. Annoyingly, the stern faced Tarn standing beside her seemed oblivious. But then, she reflected, he'd probably seen more than his share of space combat.
The same sensor tech who'd first reported the prescence of the Core ships now looked around again. "Captain, the other ships have safely entered the portal, we're the last ones."
Gerard settled into his command chair. "Excellent," he said, "take us thr - "
Gerard was interuppted by a wailing damage klaxon and flashing warning lights on many consoles. On the screen, the view shifted back to the portal, which flickered and contorted briefly. Gerard leaped to his feet, yelling, "Report!"
A damage control tech, pale faced and sweating announced, "Sir, we've taken a direct D-cannon hit to the bow. The power surge has damaged the dimensional transfer device." He listened to a mentally transmitted report. "Sir, they estimate the portal will collapse in 90 seconds."
Toric caught her breath, but to her surprise, Gerard merely nodded. "Very well, engines at full. Aft D-cannons, commence firing." Surprisingly agile for its bulk, Dauntless accelerated rapidly to a high fraction of light-speed, and darted into the wobbling portal, while its aft batteries left one Core destroyer crippled, and the other badly damaged. Then a wave of mild nausea swept through the crew, and she found herself staring out the viewport into open space. Behind them, the portal finally collapsed.
Over the rocky planet known to the Arm as Oriens Gamma II, an electronic wave of dissapointment swept through the patterns as a massive orange fireball blossomed on the surface of the planet. A Commander had died. The facility they had been ordered to capture was in ruins, and the target of their search had escaped. Central Conciousness was not pleased.
Already far from the planet, and undetected by the Core fleet, a small cloaked capsule containing the latest memory updates of all base personnel raced away from the scene. It swung wide around one of Oriens Gamma's gas giants, and ducked into hyperspace with its precious cargo.