Noah - 11. Chapter 11

Date: 4th April 2419
Location: MMV Noah, Unknown

A beautiful chorus came when the alien opened its mouth, filling the cloning facility like an amphitheatre. Sounds no human could ever hope to create, streaming forth in a gentle flow, delicately changing pitch and volume to create the most incredible sounds I had ever heard.

“Hello.” I said gently as it lay in the cloning pod, it’s song immediately halting. “You know who I am, you’re safe.”

Another aria came when the being replied, but now I understood its meaning; “Help us.”

“How?” I asked softly, the alien’s three seven-jointed fingers holding my hand.

“Take me back. The others must be retrieved.”

“In time we will, but now we cannot; our ship is damaged and we need time to repair.”

“Time does not matter.”The discrete changes in the alien’s song were being translated by my neural link and fed to me as words. “The others are sleeping as I was.”

“Commander!” The Colonel’s voice boomed from the doorway, making the alien flinch and grip my hand tighter. “This...thing should be placed under heavy guard immediately and taken to the brig. We have no idea what it is or what it wants.” He had quickly advanced and was now standing at the end of the pod, his sidearm drawn.

“There will be no need for that, Colonel.” I replied, softly but firmly. “This being is not a danger to us. He merely wishes to live.”

“You cannot know that. We can’t allow an, an alien to roam freely about the ship. I insist that it be taken to the brig.” A pair of marines approached, following a signal from the Colonel.

“Stop.” I ordered them. “You will not attempt to interfere in any way with this creature.”

“Take this...thing to the brig.” Atkinson called to them, his eyes fixed on mine. Technically, as ship’s commander I had final say, but the marines were loyal to the Colonel and as we were equal in rank, I had no idea what they would do.

“Colonel Atkinson, this is MY ship, you will stand down immediately and return to the barracks.” I growled through my teeth, staring unblinkingly into his brown eyes.

The marines stood on, waiting for further orders while we locked horns. “Fine.” He eventually grunted, making no attempt to cover his anger. “But when this thing starts taking over the ship, don’t say I didn’t warn you, SIR.” He spat then motioning for the marines to follow him as he stormed out.

“Soldiers know only the way of force.” The being sang, “I will not betray your trust.”

“I know.” I replied. I felt that the alien’s word was true. “But there are a few things we do need to ask you...”

“I understand. If you will help rescue the rest of the Starwing’s crew, I will tell you what I know.”

“Commander,” Doctor Shen, who had up until now been standing on in awe interrupted. “This...garment was sitting on the sequencer pad.” He held out a strange piece of clothing, totally unlike anything I had seen before; made from a soft white fabric, it was very narrow and had multiple apparent limb openings. It didn’t take long to realise that they matched the alien’s size. Handing the garment to the alien, I watched as it slid into it from the ‘neck’, all four of its legs pointing straight downwards in line with its torso before flexing and filling each leg of the one-piece uniform. A few inches below where its head met its body, the two small extensions, comparable, I guessed, to shoulders, jutted out before turning down into double-jointed arms.

Following what looked to be a rather complex but well practiced manoeuvre involving many fluid motions, the alien was fully clothed in the one-piece item, which reminded me of our own uniforms, albeit in a different shape. Along with the suit were two pairs of Y-shaped ‘shoes’ each of which looked like three stilettos, heel to heel. Quickly, the creature slipped into them. Once fully attired, the creature stood straight upright, placed its open right ‘hand’ palm-out across its chest and sang, in a much more formal seeming tone:

“Medical Master Sii’nour requests asylum aboard your vessel.”

“On behalf of the M Military, I, Commander Michael Richter, commanding officer of MMV Noah grant you indefinite asylum and accept you as a citizen of the M Military.” I said formally, standing to attention and saluting.

“I accept your offer and agree to abide by your laws and customs.”A moment passed, marking the end of the formalities, “You do not mind that I accessed your vessel’s databases?”

“The protocol database? No, I don’t mind that. But I believe you accessed some...other systems too.” The incident in the flight bay sprung to mind.

“I was confused, disoriented. I can only apologise for any lives lost due to my negligence. I awoke not knowing what was happening, or where I was. I thought myself dead after the crash.”

“Uhm, Commander?” Shen tried to get my attention, then whispered something to me.

“Ah, the Doctor here would like to know how you matured your body so quickly. It takes us a full year to grow a body from scratch.” I was curious about this myself; until now we had been operating on less than a skeleton crew, with no hope for any relief for a long time.

“Your technology is in many ways similar to some of our own. In some areas you are far more advanced than us, in others quite primitive. It was a simple matter of refining the process once I understood how it worked. I would be happy to share this knowledge if you wish.”

The doctor’s eyes lit up, apparently the system was now translating and the prospect of knowledge to a scientist was irresistible.

“I think the doctor here would love an opportunity to discuss it with you,” I interrupted before he could begin talking, “But first I think we should deal with your living arrangements. I don’t think we have anything that would suit your…anatomy, but I will have an engineering team design something more suitable for you. We took some rather detailed scans of a few items aboard your ship, so it shouldn’t be a problem to sequence them.”

“Please, Commander. I know that your ship is still in poor repair, do not have your people give up more important work for my comfort. Your furnishings will be more than adequate, I am sure.”

“The least I can do is show you to your quarters,” I replied, fully intending to have his needs seen to regardless of his objections. Motioning for him to follow me, I moved towards the door. It took a few moments for him to understand that I wished for him to follow, but when he did he closed the distance between us rapidly, his four legs moving similarly to a horse’s canter.

The Colonel was standing outside the door the moment it opened, flanked by a number of Marines.

“Commander Richter!” He shouted, despite being mere inches from me. “Under protocol 158-329, I believe you have been compromised by alien technology and hereby relieve you of command pending medical examination.” The smug smile he wore showed clearly how much he was enjoying the chance to order me to do something after being ordered about himself.

I considered my options and quickly arrived at the conclusion that in reality I had only one. Technically, he was well within his rights to invoke the protocol; after all, it was designed for situations just as this.

“Very well, Colonel,” I replied, and quickly thinking of a way to ensure he didn’t start changing my standing orders in the interim, came up with a suggestion. “Perhaps you should be present during the examination to bear witness. We wouldn’t want any mistakes to be overlooked, would we?”

“Excellent suggestion, Commander.” He turned to look over my shoulder at Sii’nour. “In the meantime, that will be escorted to the brig and kept under armed guard.”

“No.” I interrupted before he could give the orders to his men, “The protocol clearly states that only orders critical to the immediate welfare of the vessel may be changed until the medical examination is completed. I have granted Sii’nour asylum and you may not overturn the decision. That means he is granted the same rights as any M Citizen, including freedom from harassment.”

It took the Colonel a few moments to decide his next move before he begrudgingly accepted, and rather than carting Sii’nour to the brig, he ordered that he be restricted to the cloning facility and had guards posted. A minor concession, but one I believed was well chosen.

“Nothing?” Atkinson asked, unbelievingly. He had meticulously observed every detail of my examination and had one of his own medics reviewing the data and confirming the Doctor’s prognosis. I even had them repeat the examination for his benefit, just to make sure he had no grounds to call the protocol again.

“Nothing,” Doctor Reilley confirmed, followed by the Marine medic.

“Well, Commander, I suppose I owe you an apology.” He reluctantly admitted.

“Leave us, please,” I said to the medic and Doctor, leaving myself alone with the Colonel in the medical facility. “Colonel, you did your duty in ensuring that this vessel was not compromised, but you did so in a way that I find totally unacceptable. I realise that you are a highly seasoned officer, and I have no doubt that I will in time have to call upon your experience and judgement, but you must remember that this is my ship.” I was getting into my stride and was going to enjoy this, after the aggravation he had given me recently. “You are a proud man and I am sure you would not wish me to question your orders in front of your troops, just as you should not question mine in front of my crew. In the future, if you feel that I am making a poor decision, speak to me in private or at the very least over the ‘Net and I will give you the same courtesy.”

“Of course, you are correct Commander.” He replied humbly, treating my rank with respect. “My actions were unprofessional and disrespectful and I apologise. I will of course accept any reprimand you feel fit.”

“Colonel, I don’t want your apology, the Marines aboard are just as much members of my crew as any other crewman, I simply want their senior officer to be on my side.”

“Yes, Sir.” He now addressed me as he would any senior officer, “We shall show a united front.”

“Thank you, Colonel. Now, about your men holding Sii’nour in the cloning facility?” I enquired.

“I will have them return to the barracks immediately.” He responded obediently, “Though if I may, I believe it would be a good idea to have one Marine stay with it...him, to ensure the rest of the crew are aware of his presence and to assist if needed.”

I considered the proposal for a moment, and it was indeed a valid observation. With a Marine present, anyone who had not noticed the goings on recently would know that he was friendly. Agreeing, I walked alongside the Colonel back towards the cloning facility.

Upon reaching the doorway, the Colonel dismissed all but one of the four Marines and briefed the fourth on his new assignment.

Inside the facility, I found Sii’nour ‘sitting’ on a storage container near to the door, with one leg hanging over each side and Dr. Shen excitedly scribbling things down on a holopad next to him.

“I hope that the good Doctor has been treating you well,” I said as I approached, startling Dr. Shen, who had been engrossed in his note-taking.

“Commander, Sii’nour has given me some incredible modifications to the cloning system. If I’m reading the numbers correctly, they could cut down the time to grow a clone by, well, months.” He then proceeded to babble incoherently about numbers and some very long words that I’m certain no non-doctor had the slightest clue existed.

“Doctor,” I interrupted, to prevent him from hyperventilating at the very least, “Draw up a report and plan and I will review it like I would any other proposal.”

He was silent for a moment, then ran off to a desk hidden away between storage containers on the far side of the room, to draw up his proposal.

“I do hope that the Doctor has not been interrogating you too much.” I said apologetically to Sii’nour. “I think he’s a little excited about the prospect of enhancing his machinery.”

“I owe you my life. Information is the least I can provide.” Sii’nour replied in English, shocking me. He obviously had a little trouble with some of the sounds of our language, and he sang the words rather than speaking them, but his voice could almost be that of an opera singing treble.

“You learned English?” I asked, surprised.

“I still remember some things from your computer. Much is fading, but your language remains clear.” It was obvious that the words and syntax were easy for him, but pronunciation was challenging.

“I’m impressed,” I commented. “Now, I’m happy to say that we shouldn’t have any more problems with the Colonel. You will, however, be accompanied around the ship at least in the short term by a Marine, simply to ensure all crew members know your status as a Citizen and colleague.” I began leading him once more towards the door.

“A sensible precaution,” he sang. “I understand that you will need to assign me a role. May I take the liberty to request an assignment in your cloning facility? I believe my expertise could help your efforts there greatly.”

I mulled over his suggestion for a few moments and quickly agreed. I had been wondering what position he could fill myself, and he proved by creating his own body so quickly that he definitely had talents in that area.

“Very well. I know that you retain information from the computer system, but I ask you to review our rules and procedures. Once I have registered your citizenship and assignment with the computer, you will be assigned the rank of Crewman, with all the rights and privileges therein.” Despite his backing down, I knew that the Colonel would be keeping a close eye on Sii’nour, and having him review the procedures would hopefully ensure no future confrontations. “Unfortunately, we have been unable to fabricate suitable furniture for you yet.” I apologised as we approached the grav lift that would take us to one of the residential decks. “But a crew will come to your quarters shortly to take care of it for you.”

“Really, Commander, there is no need to divert work crews from their current workload. I am certain that any furnishings present will be more than sufficient for my needs.” He argued, but I was determined that our first alien crewmember would be made comfortable.

“Hopefully, whatever they create will be more suitable for you. We took a number of scans of furniture aboard your vessel, so they should be able to come up with something,” I continued, ignoring his objection.

As we stepped off the grav lift, I led the way forwards until we reached a room listed as empty.

“Welcome to your new home,” I said as the door slid open, revealing the Spartan quarters.

“It is more than sufficient,” Sii’nour replied gratefully as he explored his room.

“As for food, I am afraid we were unable to obtain any information from your ship’s computer system, so we have none of your own foods on record, but feel free to explore our cuisine for anything that may take your liking,” I apologised, then explained the sequencer to him.

“ALL HANDS TO DUTY STATIONS.” The voice of the Lieutenant currently manning the Control Room screamed throughout the ship, as the lights dimmed and bulkheads closed. I had just finished explaining the sequencer to Sii’nour when the Lieutenant called the alert.

Telling Sii’nour to wait in his quarters, I raced through the ship, pushing past crewmen rushing from their quarters to their stations, until I reached the Control Room.

“Report!” I called as soon as the airlock finished cycling.

“Unknown vessels bearing two-nine-two by eight-one. Five small craft escorting what appears to be a frigate.” The Lieutenant replied over the din of communications from virtually every console around the room.

“Where are our fighters?” I asked, logging into the ship’s sensor systems.

“They were on patrol, they’re already heading back. The unknown ships will be here in...” He was cut off.

“CONTACT! READ TWO MISSILES INBOUND!” an Ensign at the scanner station screamed, causing every other crewman in the room to begin calling orders and alerts to their subordinates.

“Spin up the flak, put a wall between us and them!” I quickly called, moments later, seeing a solid wall of explosions appear several kilometres from the ship’s hull.

“One missile down, one got through. It’s erratic.” The scanner operator reported.

“Brace!” I called over the ship’s systems, alerting all crewmembers to an impending impact.

“Light damage to the hull in sector six-nine, decks 97 through 100. No injuries.” The damage control station reported. There wasn’t even a vibration in the Control Room; the ship’s structure easily absorbed the small missile’s energy.

“If that’s all they’ve got to throw at us, then I don’t think we have much to worry about.” The 2^nd Lieutenant seated at the engineering console commented.

“They are turning away, sir.” The scanner operator called to me, as the blips I could see began moving away. “It looks like they’re running.”

“The hell they are,” I muttered. “Order the Blades to engage. Take out the fighters and disable that frigate. I want to know who has the nerve to attack us.”

“Aye sir. Blades engaging now,” the Lieutenant replied.

On the scanner being displayed in my mind, I saw the three blue blips representing our Blade fighters rapidly closing on the collection of red blips running from the ship. The hostiles were running, but were no match for the speed of our ships.

One of the hostile fighters was destroyed in the first pass as the Blades flew past the hostiles. Dodging their hardest, it didn’t take long for the remaining two to be transformed into floating dust.

“Wing Commander reports hostile frigate disabled, Commander,” the Lieutenant said with no small degree of pride. “They have clean weapon locks and are in position to fire on your order.”

“No,” I replied. “Have them maintain lock and hold position. We’re going to board them.”

“Just the order I’ve been waiting for.” The Colonel snapped to attention in the open airlock when I turned to him. “I’ve got men in the tubes and a team sitting in the shuttle begging to go give some hurt. Just say the word, Commander.”

“Do it,” I said with a smile. “Show whoever is over there what happens when you provoke the M Military.”

“Yes, Sir,” the Colonel replied enthusiastically and cycled the airlock.

It takes a special sort of person to climb into a heavily armoured suit then allow themselves to be shot across open space without any form of guidance, but right now, two Marines were doing just that. Relying on the gunner’s aim, they had been launched from the side of the ship and were hurtling towards the frigate at breakneck speeds.

As I linked with the Colonel, I once again saw through his eyes. He was standing in the back of the cramped Bee’s bay, briefing his team on the unknown situation they were about to go into.

Reports from both Armoured Marines confirmed they had landed on the hull of the frigate and had located an airlock. It was their job to break through the airlock or failing that, cut through the ship’s hull; then establish a foothold while the much more lightly armoured Marines in the shuttle approached.

“That’s one hell of a hunk of junk,” the shuttle’s pilot commented as they approached. Externally, the vessel looked like it had been bolted together from the salvaged parts of several different ships.

“If that’s how ugly their ships are, how ugly are the bastards inside?” One of the marines joked to ease the tension aboard.

“We’ll soon find out. Armoured team is inside and we’re up next,” the Colonel informed the team. “Check your weapons and get ready.”

Each Marine performed their own personal ritual of checking their weapon, gear and mental preparation before sealing their helmet and reporting as ready. Using the docking collar on the top side of the shuttle, the pilot lined up with the destroyed airlock of the disabled vessel and locked on.

“Clear!” The pilot shouted as the clamps locked onto the ship and established a seal.

The hatch opened onto an eerily quiet scene; both armoured marines were standing guard, covering the corridor ahead, which showed no signs of life. Lighting aboard the ship was minimal; a faint orange glow from lights positioned every couple of metres barely illuminated the smoke-filled corridors, which were as ramshackle in appearance as the ship was from the outside.

Silently transmitting orders through the Neural Link, the Colonel was first through the hatch and took cover behind the armoured hulk of one of the marines, while the rest of the team followed.

Engaging their active camouflage, each marine was reduced to little more than a shadow, barely discernable from the background. Through the Colonel’s eyes, a blue outline highlighted each Marine, but this was merely a function of the Neural Link and visible only to other Marines.

“Contact.” The Marine on point reported, as they reached the end of the corridor and checked the corner, the two Armoured Marines remained in position to guard the shuttle. “Two targets behind a barricade, ten metres.”

On the Colonel’s signal, two Marines took position next to the corner and slowly crept into the hostiles’ line of sight. With the active camouflage the hostiles didn’t know what was happening until each one had several plasma shards shredding its body.

Moving up to the barricade, the two Marines gave the all clear and the rest of the team moved up.

“Commander, perhaps our newest crewmember could shed some light onto these,” the Colonel said, whilst looking at one of the shredded corpses, knowing I was watching.

“Image captured, Colonel. I’ll have Sii’nour tell us if he knows anything about them,” I replied and sent a message to Sii’nour along with a snapshot of what the Colonel had seen. “Keep moving, I want that ship secured ASAP.”

“No problem, Commander,” he replied and I observed as the Marines moved from room to room, clearing the ship, occasionally finding another barricade but without encountering any more hostiles.

“Last room.” The Colonel said to the two marines still accompanying him, when they reached the top of the ship and a solid looking bulkhead. The other three-man team had split off after clearing the first deck and had cleared the decks below.

A hail of red laser fire highlighted by the smoke flew from the room as soon as the bulkhead was opened, fired completely at random at the choke point and hitting one of the cloaked Marines squarely in the chest, knocking him dead to the ground.

“Bravo team! Report!” The Colonel transmitted over the Net, taking cover behind the small wall as the laser bursts fizzed past, leaving faint trails of dark smoke behind them.

“There’s a group of hostiles barricaded in the last room, colonel. We’d grenade them out, but it looks like there’s a lot of important stuff in there.”

“Colonel, this is Thor. My scanners are showing that the entire section you’re stuck in is crumbling. If I put a few rounds into the corridor behind you it should decompress the whole section without damaging anything important,” the voice of the senior pilot interrupted.

“This corridor’s barely ten metres long, lieutenant. Are you sure you can make the shot without blasting us too?” The colonel queried. From the outside, the ship looked like it had been made by bolting salvaged parts of other ships together, and this area looked by far the most decrepit and there was a good chance that any major breach could rip the whole section apart.

“No problem, colonel. I’ll put a three-round burst right at the far end from you; that should be enough to punch through.”

“OK, Bravo team hold position and we’ll try to find a way to help out when we’re clear. Thor, do it,” the colonel said after a moment weighing up his options.

“Roger, colonel, hold tight; I’m making my pass.”

Five seconds later, the end of the corridor exploded, causing everything in the hostile’s stronghold that wasn’t nailed down to be blown past the Colonel and into space. Any hostiles that didn’t get blown out and didn’t have space-worthy suits wouldn’t last long, and from the rag-tag appearance of the first hostiles encountered, it didn’t strike him that quality equipment was a strong point of these aliens.

Using a combination of hand signals and Net instructions, the Colonel indicated to his surviving soldier the plan. On the signal, both burst into the room and quickly scanned one-half each for movement, before slowly creeping around and thoroughly checking every corner.

“Room clear,” The private accompanying him confirmed after completing his sweep.

“Bravo team! SitRep!” The colonel called while inspecting several of the glowing panels on various walls and pedestals around the room.

“We’re still pinned down. We can’t get a clear shot on any of the hostiles; they’re just too well dug in.”

A blinking light on one of the panels caught the Colonel’s eye. Displayed on the screen was a representation of Bravo team’s location, with each of the three soldiers marked in red, and eight blue blips inside a large room next to them, presumably the hostiles. All around the room were shown small shafts which criss-crossed that part of the ship, abruptly stopping where they intersected what seemed to be where the vessel had been attached to the others which now made up the ship.

“Sergeant, I’m seeing a large number of access ways in that area of the ship. Several appear to lead into that room.”

“Yes, sir.” The Bravo team sergeant replied, “We’ve seen them everywhere, but they are too small for anyone to get into.”

“Do you have enough energy for a Spider?”

“Yes sir. If you have a schematic of these shafts there...” the sergeant began to realise what the colonel was suggesting.

Following the Colonel’s directions he retired to a previously cleared room with an access shaft that led directly to the apparent engine room and sequenced a silver disc the size of a dinner plate. When he pressed a button on the top it suddenly sprang four spindly legs and a large quantity of rather nasty looking spikes and other very painful looking implements before activating its built in active camouflage and turning nearly invisible.

Jumping from the sergeant, it leapt wildly around the room, sending trinkets and decorations flying and smashing, before jumping onto the grate covering the shaft and tearing it to shreds.

From the console on the ship’s Bridge, the colonel watched as each blue blip in the large room vanished one by one. By the time the sergeant had returned to the other two members of Bravo team, the corridor was silent. Entering the room, he encountered a mess of dismembered body parts and gore, the silver Spider standing decloaked on a console, covered with various colours of blood. Picking the spider up and recycling it, he relayed a single message to the Colonel.

“Room clear.”