Sentinel

[Aardvark]

The Admiral stood aboard the bridge of his personal flagship, the Endless. An impressive vessel itself, the Endless paled in comparison to the immense size of the fleet. A thousand starships, well over a thousand, ranging from miniscule Runabouts, flitting between ships, transferring crews, supplies and fuel as needed, to the gargantuan Dreadnaughts, such as the Endless itself. An armada of biblical proportions and all at his command. The finest ships in the known universe sporting the most powerful weapons science had to offer piloted by the elite of the elite, men and women with space travel and combat quite literally coded into their genes, trained from birth to operate the various systems required. From the honest as dirt engineers to the cocky fighter pilots to the levelheaded Captains and Fleet Commanders, he trusted every single one of them with his life. Truly the most powerful array of military might in the galaxy, none could possibly stand before it

 

Except for one ship. One single vessel. A single ship in orbit around a dead planet. It's existence would never have been noted if that system hadn't served as a shortcut for the armada. Even then it probably would've been ignored if the armada's proximity hadn't triggered ancient systems aboard the derelict vessel to fire up for the first time in millennia. Suddenly, the seemingly invincible armada was facing a challenge from an ancient battlecruiser.

 

The Admiral would've laughed if he hadn't felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. Scans from various vessels had already been completed and all available data of the sector, the vessel and anything even remotely linking to what he was about to face had been collated and was coming up on the main console in a comprehensive report. Ahh, the wonders of AI, he thought. He scanned through the reports. noting down various details. Unknown hull substance blocking deeper scans, weapons powering up from source greater than anything on record, engine signatures also unknown... a whole lot of nothing. A quick look at the history report showed various footnotes of failed colonisation attempts in this system, but had all been put down to solar phenomena and pirate activity. What little could be told of the ship showed ancient markings that may or may not have to do with a long deceased civilisation of highly advanced spacefaring creatures who one day, for apparent reason, were completely wiped out. The scans also showed many imperfections along the hull. Tough substance, but not totally impervious.

 

After a futile attempt at communication, the Admiral had no choice but to order the fleet to red alert. Personal made their way to their designated stations, engineering crews to critical points, fighterpilots to their fighters, gunners to their stations and all senior officers to the ready, incase all hell broke loose. The mysterious vessel was still over a hundred thousand kilometres away, but the Admiral hadn't raised to his rank by taking risks. All ships were powering their weapons, arming warheads and preparing for the worse. With every passing moment, that feeling of foreboding grew stronger and stronger.

 

An explosion rocked the Endless. One of it's escort cruisers had been completely destroyed. Impossible! No weapon has that much power over that much range. This ship could out-range anything he had under his command. He had to close the gap and fast. He could unleash warheads, but that would give this enemy far too long to lock on with countermeasures. The computer reported another ship down, a battleship this time. The Admiral ordered his ships to close the distance and to deploy all fighters, drones and warheads as soon as humanly possible. The ship hadn't moved, but had already taken out two of his finest. Two more down. Another cruiser and a dreadnaught! The dreadnaught had merely been crippled. Rescue crews from nearby ships had already been deployed to save any surviving crew members. More ships reported destroyed. And he hadn't even fired a single shot in retaliation.

 

The first ships to reach maximum warhead range were already releasing their payloads. Fighters, both manned and AI controlled, were already speeding towards their foe. More capital ships were falling prey to the primary weapon of the derelict. 50,000 ks. Finally in range for the fleet's various extreme range weapons. Superfocused lasers, phased particle projectors and reality distortion rays were aimed and unleashed upon the ship. Misses were already being reported, as would be expected from this range, but the ship hadn't seemed to move. This disturbed the Admiral, who immediately checked through the various scanner logs over the past few seconds. Nothing... nothing... wait... various reality distortions had been detected. From what he could gather, the ship had a device that made scanners believe it was in several places at once. More than that. For the briefest of instants, the ship WAS in several places at once. What better way to fool a machine than with the truth?

 

The first warheads were closing in on the ship. Each with enough fuel left for several passes, incase of a miss, the Admiral would soon know how strong the armour really was. More capital ships had been lost, more beam weapons reported totally missing. The enemy ship still hadn't moved from it's initial position. Fighters were firing their own smaller missiles as they came into range and powering up their own primary weapons. Smaller beams from capital ships would soon have the enemy in range, too. Time would tell how long this ship could continue evading his forces.

 

The first warheads came within 1 kilometre... and froze. Each one stopped dead. Scanners reported their existence, but they weren't responding to anything. As if they'd been drained of all energy, then of inertia itself. All at the thousand meter mark, though. The Admiral issued a warning to fighters not to approach within two thousand meters. He had no desire to see what that strange field would do to life. More and more beam weapons reporting misses, more and more capital ships falling. Almost half his force gone and he still hadn't done anything appreciable to this enemy. Not even a scratch.

 

The fighters reached man weapons range... and met point defence fire. All over the ship were small guns, no larger than handguns, each capable of wiping out a fighter in a single shot. Still the valiant fighters continued on in face of overwhelming firepower, using every trick, tactic and manoeuvre their training and experience had provided to buy themselves enough time for that one last shot. But sensors indicated their efforts weren't in vain. For the first time, hits were being reported. The hull of this seemingly indomitable opponent was absorbing fire. Damage was negligible, but that didn't matter. The Admiral was struck with an idea. A risky one, but no more risky than flying towards an impossible to hit ship with immensely powerful weapons. Extreme short range warp jumps. With the gravity wells of the planets and the sun itself, this would be difficult at best, suicidal at worst. But the risk had to be taken.

 

The order was issued to all remaining capital ships, numbering barely 400 now. Onboard AIs calculated the best trajectories and conditions for the jumps, but the outcome would be impossible to predict. Warped space being barely predictable itself and each individual faster than light drive having it's own array of nuances and flaws in their reality matrices, the outcome of this one would be tricky indeed. The Admiral ordered all ships to jump to positions dispersed around the enemy vessel, then gave the word.

 

Instantly, his viewpoint changed. He was closer to the vessel, behind it. Other vessels had also made the jump successfully. He'd have to check the casualty reports later, as he was now in range for all weapons He ordered all remaining ships to unload everything they had into this enemy. The few remaining fighters had broken off as the jump took place, needing to be rearmed and refueled. The warheads were still in place, suspended around the ship. He took his seat on the bridge, then ordered fire control to be given to him. His order was never questioned. From his console, he scanned over the enemy ship. Well, it wasn't as impervious as he thought. One section of the hull must've taken a hit from a reality distortion cannon. The telltale buckling patterns could be seen clear as day. The engines had also taken a beating, as they were leaking various substances into space. The Admiral chose this as his target, directing the remaining ships to divide their fire between the engines, the extreme buckling and the one spot on the ship that all computers had agreed was the "command centre" of this enemy.

 

From this short range, hits were certain. The weakness of the ultimate weapon of their enemy became obvious at this short range. It could only fire in one direction. But the point defence weapons were taking their toll, targeting carriers and crippling them in seconds. Rearmed fighters had taken wing once more, concentrating their fire on clusters of PD weapons. A large explosion ripped through the ship. It's main fuel stores must've been hit, the Admiral assumed. He continued to press the advantage he'd been given, in the face of heavy losses. He wouldn't let his comrades deaths go unavenged, nor would he let this menace remain to continue destroying ships for generations to come.

 

Another explosion ripping through the badly buckled hull of the derelict. It had to be almost gone. The Admiral's forces barely numbered a hundred working vessels, continuing to pour fire onto the ship. More vessels were reportedly being crippled, but thankfully for him, the Endless hadn't been scratched.

 

An alert captured his attention. The warheads that had stood silent this whole battle were powering up again. Their reactors were slowly escaping the grips of whatever had drained them and they were pushing forward, rapidly closing the last meters between them and the ship. The remaining PD weapons on the derelict tried to target the missiles, but there were too many, too close, traveling too quickly. As each warhead ripped into the hull of the enemy ship, cheers went up from the survivors of the armada. With each explosion, a few more of the powerful PD weapons shut down. Sensors showed radiation pouring out of the many breeches in the hull of the vessel. Reactors aboard it must be going critical. As the last of the warheads smashed into the derelict, the Admiral ordered the surviving ships back to minimum safe distance, but still belting the ship with everything they had.

 

Suddenly, a bright flash erupted from the ship. The Endless was struck by a powerful energy wave. All hand braced as best they could, but it came without warning. The Admiral gripped his seat and waited for the wave to pass. All sensors had stopped working from the flash and he was getting impatient.

 

Then all was silent. The Admiral ordered an immediate damage report and for repair crews to bring sensors back online as quickly as possible. Although he still had the taste of victory in his mouth, he had an unpleasant churning feeling in his gut. The main screen flickered and came to life. A gasp went up from the various crewmembers on the bridge. We're not in Kansas anymore, thought the Admiral. They weren't anywhere. Sensors finally came up, confirming his worst fears. The flash had torn the entire system from reality and deposited it somewhere in warped space. An island of real, surrounded by something not even complex singularity mathematics could predict. There was no trace of their opponent. Throughout the system, the remains of his once proud fleet could be seen. He pulled his eyes from the main screen to his command console. Final statistics. 91% of capital ships, 78% of fighters completely destroyed or badly crippled. 85% of personal gone. He'd miss them all. As he scanned through the wreckage, something caught his attention. One of the crippled Dreadnaughts. It hadn't fallen to weapon fire or warp jump inaccuracies. It had been torn apart, piece by piece. It's engine was gone, along with large chunks of it's hull and internal systems. There was no trace of them or of whatever had inflicted this.

 

One more system devoid of all decent salvage. The captain shook his head. 41 unexplored systems, not a single thing worth phoning the towing crews about. It was a hard enough life in the salvage business, but once in a while, you find something good. Either the remains of an epic ancient battle or a piece of tech beyond what anyone else has. Or just a powerful weapon to sell to radicals and extremists. But for the most part, it was explore... find nothing... sell exploration report to whoever wanted it... usually merchants and prospectors. He was about ready to give up and become a farmer like the rest of his family. Then an alert from the computer caught his attention. A derelict. He zoomed in on the find. A large one, too. Or was it two? He couldn't tell for sure, but there were two distinctly different hulls fused together. One shiny and new, baring marks of an unknown faction... the other ancient and scarred from previous battles. But he didn't have time to ponder. There were no signs of life aboard and nothing in the area that had a better claim to it than him. Just as he sent out the alert to the collection team, an alarm went off. The captain looked at the main screen and went white. The derelict was powering up.

[The Portrait of Zool]

Enjoyable!

 

I love that sci-fi stuff.

[Gwaihir]

indeed it was a cool inspiration .

 

There's always something mysterious about a ghost ship. fun read.

[Peredhil]

That was really well written. I had neato visuals off of it. I can only assume part two, the Derelict's Revenge, is coming?

 

It's nice to read something not Fantasy, that's well written, at the Pen.

[Aardvark]

Y'know what they say about assumptions, old man

 

They're the brother of... no, the mother... well, some family member, I'm sure. There's your problems, right there. Bringing family into the situation. If the italians have taught me anything, it's don't mess-a with the family. Nasty bastards, the lot of 'em. Kill you as soon as look at you, they will. Lethal buggers with their shifty eyes and their razorsharp venomdripping claws and vampire teeth. Bloodsuckers, too, these genetically engineered monstrosities. Gotta watch out for 'em if you're ever takin' a strolll down by the abandoned genetic engineering lab. Some nutcase left the floodgates unlocked. So the adventuring party can get in, but various creations can get out. This is causing problems for the local villagers as their harvest is significantly reduced by these things, thus invoking the wrath of their lord. The wonders of the feudal system. Well, not the true feudal system, but the corrupt version, where the guy at the top takes all the money, does none of the work and doesn't care about the peasants, unless they stop paying. Then the only time he'll try to help them is if he finds them all dead. Or he'll just lock himself up in his stone keep and never come out, even if you knock loudly and throw rocks through his window

 

Do you understand what I'm saying, old man?

[Peredhil]

Laughs long and hard.

 

I love your freestyle ranting replies. I'm reading you five by five.

[The Portrait of Zool]

Those feudal lords were a strange lot, especially after a few generations of the tradition of 'keep it in the family' - you know what I mean. A few generations of that certainly will produce a legendary heir - they should have taken you advice concerning that one, they should have. Killed the whole lot of them, he did - he did take your advice. Now he's in charge down at the abandoned lab, but he's sad. Seems he doesn't get much mail. It's his own fault though, fer sure.

 

Family - yeah, I know what you're saying.