The Long Voyage by Dread Lord

Published on Kiith Iopia on date Unknown

Dread Lord sat in his command chair, appearing to go over some data at his console, and was unusually quiet this night. D. Stroyer, his First Officer, sat nearby in his own chair, at his own station, and watched his superior a bit anxiously. Obviously, something was wrong. Usually, Dread Lord would be calling out orders, discussing tactics, strategies, fighting techniques, and important information with D. Stroyer, or just going over some critical data. Now, he appeared to be just sitting in his chair, thinking. Though still concerned, D. Stroyer stopped watching his commander, and now turned his gaze to the crew, making sure everyone was doing what he or she was supposed to do. Quiet conversations filled the bridge, as orders were relayed and
acknowledged, while data and information were analyzed. There, Miiabe Inceru, the tactical officer, was going over some data with Apocalyps, the head of security, while Kuji Kiri, damage-control officer, conferred with the sensor officer, discussing the minor damage to the sensors caused by a small hyper-storm. It was a quiet night, as was always. Little things being done in preparation for the next day. D. Stroyer turned his eyes to the forward view-screen, which showed the crackling, blue-white expanse that was hyperspace. Strange, he thought, that we would use such a understudied technology to get us to Higarra. But we must, we must use it. There is no other way. He turned to look at Dread Lord again, who was still sitting in his chair, thinking. He suddenly clenched his fist, muscles in his arm bulging, and glanced over at D. Stroyer. His eyes, D. Stroyer thought, his eyes are not the calm, but stern ones they had always been. Now they are filled with...Anger. Dread Lord spoke,
"D. Stroyer, when Blue Ghost and the night-shift arrive, turn the
bridge over to them. I am going to my quarters." He stood up to his full seven-foot height, and appeared to almost stalk off the bridge, heading for the transport lift. D. Stroyer watched him, wondering
what exactly was going on, until the doors to the lift slid shut.

Dread Lord, arriving at the deck where his quarters were, walked along the corridoor, heading towards them. Kushans who saw him stopped to salute, before hurrying on to do whatever it was they were supposed to, but he paid them no heed. Reaching his quarters, he hit the button that opened the doors, and entered. Without even pausing to relax or get ready for sleep, he went over to a computer console at his desk. He spoke,

"Computer." The screen came to life, a light blue color on the screen. "Record personal log." Dread Lord paused, as the computer switched to the appropriate screen, and then continued,
"First Commander Dread Lord's personal log. It has now been two months since we first started this great voyage. And though everything has gone almost perfectly so far, I remain...uneasy. I have always been uneasy since I first learned that our DNA was not anything like what it would be, had we truly evolved on Kharak." He seemed to almost spit out that name. " Because of this, I have come to the conclusion that wherever we came from, whatever planet we used to live on, we were forcibly removed from that planet, and taken to Kharak. Though the Guidestone shows the path, it does not say what happened to us. What our culture once was. An evil species or race of beings must have done this terrible deed, and perhaps they are still out there, hoping to bar our path from reaching our rightful Homeworld." He paused, gritting his teeth with anger, before continuing. "But now, the stakes have been raised. The Mothership carries all that is left of our civilization. Those that have remained behind are going to die. There will be nothing left of them, and we cannot go back. We must continue on, we must persevere in this course of action." Dread Lord gave a grim smile. "But if these beings are still out there, I would like to meet them. I would like to meet them very much. So that I may see the face of my enemy...Before I kill them all. The Mothership is our last hope for the survival of our entire race, and nothing, NOTHING will stop us in our voyage
home. I promise....Computer, end personal log entry." The computer complied, and then Dread Lord turned it off. Walking over to a
nearby window, through which the expanse of hyperspace could be seen, as well as other vessels in the great Mothership fleet, he stood there and watched silently, gazing out of the window.
And he brooded on things to come....

First Commander Dread Lord grimaced as the bridge of the destroyer Harbinger shook from yet another direct hit. It had now been three months after the great journey home had started. Low on resources, and with the hyperdrive module running low on energy, the Mothership fleet had jumped back into normal Space-3. A nearby asteroid and debris field had been located, and a resource-gathering convoy had been sent to investigate. The convoy consisted of four resource-controllers, eight collectors, and four heavy corvettes to provide escort. While research was being conducted on stronger armor and more efficient propulsion systems, the main part of the fleet formed up around the Mothership. Fleet Command sent orders to First Commander Dread Lord, head of the newly-formed Elite Guards task-force, on his destroyer Harbinger, assigning the Harbinger to patrol a set of nav-points, and make sure that the area was secure. While on patrol, the destroyer had almost bumped into a small fleet of unknown vessels, about the size of freighters or small transports, who were using some technique to mask their engin emissions and immediately opened fire on the destroyer. Commander Dread Lord had no choice but to order the command to return fire.

The six turrets that were the main armament of the destroyer swivelled, tracked, and fired. Two of them had the newly discovered laser weapons-technology incorporated into them, and loosed brilliant beams of red light, that slashed outward, smashing into the destroyer's unknown assailants, melting armor, and cutting them to pieces. The other four turrets had the standard magnetic-accelerator cannons, that took dense slugs, accelerated them to near light-speeds, and then shot them at their targets. But despite the destroyer's superior weapons technology, there were at least ten of the medium-sized enemy ships, each about a quarter the size of the destroyer. Already much of the Harbinger's armor was pocked and crumpled by the enemy's cannons.

Dread Lord sat in his command chair, almost barking orders to his crew, while his first officer, D. Stroyer was dealing with other situations as they came up. Dread Lord almost shouted to the communications officer.

"Communications! Open a channel to those ships!"

"Yes, sir!...Channel open!" Dread Lord spoke into his comm unit at his command station.

"Attention, unidentified ships. This is Commander Dread Lord of the Kushan destroyer Harbinger. Cease your attack immediately, or be destroyed. This is your final warning." Suddenly the destroyer rocked from a powerful explosion, as several slugs slammed through weakened armor, and almost pulverized the primary fire-control system and power-grid. The bridge was suddenly plunged into darkness, while klaxons and sirens went off across the ship and bridge, red alarm lights blinking on and off. D. Stroyer spoke, studying his station as best as he could in the low-light.

"Emergency power coming on-line now, Commander."

"Good." The alarms and klaxons subsided, and an increasing hum of power was heard before it faded away. In space, the pirate vessels closed in on their prey, surrounding the destroyer. "Damage report?"

"Sir," Kuji Kiri, the damage control officer, spoke from his station, "we have lost all primary power, and our main systems are off-line. We have no engines or weapons. This ship is helpless."

The comm officer spoke up,

"Message coming in, Commander."

"Put it through." A deep, harsh voice was heard, echoing across the bridge.

"This is Captain Krause, of the ship Immoral. You will surrender your ship and prepare to be boarded. Your ship is being taken over by the Turanic Raiders."

Dread Lord thought about this for a few seconds, before giving a very direct, to-the-point reply.

"Got to hell." He gave a sign to the comm officer to cut the channel.

"Channel closed, sir." Dread Lord nodded, and then spoke, "D. Stroyer, Miiabe Inceru, Deathfang, what options do you suggest."

"We fight to the death!" Miiabe said, as he slammed a fist down on his station.

Deathfang nodded in agreement.

"It would be a grievous stain on our honor to surrender to this pirate scum," Dread Lord replied, almost growling.

"How can we fight? Our primary fire-control is destroyed and our power-grid is fried. And we cannot ram them, because our engines are disabled," He bashed his command station furiously with anger and frustration, "To be disabled and captured by these cowards..."

D. Stroyer spoke next.

"One thing is clear though, Commander: We cannot let them take this ship."

Dread Lord nodded in agreement, "We cannot fight, we cannot ram them, we cannot do anything!" He spoke into the ship intercom, "All personnel, now hear this. To prevent this ship from falling into enemy hands, I am going to activate the self-destruct. Prepare for emergency evacuation. All personnel, evac stations immediately."

He looked at his bridge crew who were all looking at him in near shock.

"What are you waiting for? Get to the evac stations." They still didn't move.

Miiabe Inceru, the tactical officer, spoke,
"Sir, I cannot retreat. My place is at your side. The dishonor..."

Dread Lord cut him off, "There is no shame or dishonor in following your commander's orders. Now, get going."

With great reluctance, they began heading towards the doors exiting the bridge. As they were doing so, the sensor officer spoke up, voice filled with excitement,
"Sir! More ships closing on us..." Dread Lord quickly jerked his head to look at him. "Their friendly, sir! Reading them as Kushan vessels, from the Mothership fleet!"

The other officers quickly raced to their stations. On the forward view-screen, the pirate vessels were breaking off from their encircling positions, and fleeing the area. Across the screen, laser fire lanced out from unseen ships, smashing several pirate ships, while others crumpled from hits by mag-accelerator cannons. Miiabe Inceru switched the view-screen to center on the Kushan ships approaching, and Dread Lord felt his chest swell with pride as he beheld the flagship destroyer of the Black Death Union, another recently formed task-force, along with four heavy corvettes nearing their position.

The comm officer spoke up,
"Sir, incoming transmission from the destroyer."

"Patch it through." The dragonish/lizard-like face of a Kushan appeared on the view-screen.

"Commander Dread Lord. It appears you require our assisstance. Allow us the honor of assisting you in this grave encounter."

Dread Lord replied with a small, toothy grin, "The honor is given, by all means."

The other grinned back.

"Know then that I am Commander Baggins, leader of the Black Death Union. This is my first officer, SolLazar." At this, another Kushan stepped forward into view, standing beside Baggins.

SolLazar spoke,
"Commander Dread Lord, it is an honor to meet you."

Dread Lord nodded, "It is an honor to meet you as well, SolLazar. Commander Baggins, this is my first officer, D. Stroyer." D. Stroyer stepped forward to stand beside Dread Lord.

"It is an honor to meet you, Commander Baggins, and you, SolLazar."
"Commander Baggins, my ship is heavily damaged, and we are operating on emergency power. Our engines are inoperable because of this. Could you tow us back to the fleet?" Dread Lord asked.

Baggins nodded.

"But of course, Commander. Baggins out."

The BDU destroyer attached a powerful magnetic grapnel to the Elite Guards destroyer, and began towing it in the direction of the main Mothership fleet, the four heavy corvettes providing escort.

As they left the area, something moved. Two meters in length, and one meter high and wide, it was painted black, virtually invisible against the backdrop of space. The small probe began going over the data it had recorded, particularly the text between Commander Dread Lord, and the pirates. "This is Commander Dread Lord of the Kushan..." There, the probe paused in its studies. The keyword had been located. Thrusters flared to life, and it accelerated into the depths of space...