Patterns of Chaos: Book One - The First War
Chapter 27

A few weeks later…

“When I originally named this vessel,” Stragdoc addressed the entire population of the vessel from the new command bridge. “I chose the name carefully. For this was to be our sanctuary, our refuge, a protected place from the petty jealousies of the humans. With the completion of the great reconstruction we undertook, however, the term sanctuary, Chancel seems inappropriate.”

Pausing for effect, he glanced around at his staff; Simms, Dalth, Karman, Peters, dear Calixta. Smiling, he continued. “There is an old naval tradition that says to rename a vessel is to invite ill fortune. However, this is not the same vessel any longer, for now the stars themselves lay within our grasp. But before we extend our reach, we must first take back our true home. To show the humans that nature, red in tooth and claw, has selected us to be the inheritors of the planet!”

He strode to a wall panel covered by cloth. He snatched it down, revealing a naming plate, upon which Calixta dashed a bottle of champagne.

“I christen this vessel the Red Talon!” Stragdoc roared, exultant. Cheers erupted all over the command bridge, and Stragdoc could feel the thousands of echoing celebrations across the ship. “Long live the Empire!” He bellowed, and was pleased that rather than echo his sentiment, the phrase “Long live the Emperor!” Repeated across the whole ship.

“To your stations! To war!” Stragdoc snarled excitedly. Victory was finally upon him, and he would not be denied. Simms and Peters hurried off the bridge, to engineering and the med bay respectively. Karman, ever the loyal soldier, saluted him before heading to the shuttle bay to take command of the fighters they would deploy. Dalth took a command station to his right, for she would advise and relay his commands. Calixta stood just behind and to the left of him, a hand on his shoulder. Reports began coming in.

“Parsyns drive online and ready!”

“Weapons are ready, primary cannon still charging!”

“Fighter crews are on standby, awaiting orders to launch!”

“Med bay reports they are ready for possible casualties.”

Oh, there will be casualties… Stragdoc grinned tightly. “Engage secondary drive, Admiral. Take us home.”

On the surface of Earth, the Alliance military had been far from idle. Several squadrons had been outfitted with the engine design that would allow them to break orbit, and one had the added benefit of the faster-than-light drive. It was with that squadron that Captain Christopher St. George could be found, conducting his, by his own estimate, five thousandth examination of the vessels under his command.

They had yet to begin their surprise attack operation for a number of reasons: first when the military leaders had been awaiting the results of his bloodwork (he was most certainly not an Alphite), then awaiting the construction and installation of the various engines, now while the scientific divisions confirmed that the FTL drive would not vaporize them upon engaging it.

Christopher had assured them that it would not, but they didn’t share his trust of Ashpool. Which, he supposed, was understandable; they hadn’t met the woman. Still…

A crewman ran up to him. “Sir, General Cameron requests your presence immediately! Something big’s happening!”

Knowing that Cameron was not one for hyperbole, Chris headed off at a sprint for the command centre. Cameron was outside waiting for him. “Captain, long range scanners report an energy build up behind the moon, and a large mass coming around it. They’re coming.”

Chris swore. “Sound the alarm sir, hang the tests, we need to launch now.”

Cameron nodded tightly. “We’ll buy you what time we can. Good luck, Captain.”

Chris saluted, ran for a public address system. “Tazer Squadron report to your vessels, this is not a drill! Report to your vessels and prepare for launch on my command!”

We’re not ready. He had hoped to have more time to train his pilots...and himself for that matter. They had done what zero-g training they could, hiding in Earth’s shadow from Stragdoc’s gaze, but he was not sure it was enough.

Nevertheless, looking at the determined looks of the men under his command as they mustered to their ships, he knew it would have to be. Because under no circumstances while Christopher St. George drew breath would, he allow that lunatic to win.

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