Falcorans' Faith (47 page)

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Authors: Laura Jo Phillips

Tags: #Paranormal Romance

BOOK: Falcorans' Faith
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Tristan looked around the table, and sensed the desire of those present to find out what the unknown sender had to say before engaging the Xanti force.  When engaging a largely unknown enemy, additional intelligence was a good thing.  “Route the signal here,” Tristan said.  A second later, one of the video screens on the wall came to life, revealing the face of what appeared to be an elderly Narrasti female.

“I most humbly beg your pardon,” the female said.  “I know that I am uninvited, but I believe my rudeness is necessary under the circumstances.  Will you agree to listen to what I have to say?  I assure you that it is in the best interests of your people, as well as my own.”

“We agree,” Tristan said at once.  “I am Tristan Falcoran, Admiral of the Jasani Fleet.  To whom am I speaking?”

“I am Marqex,” the female said.  “I claim no rank or title, other than that of a Narrasti citizen desirous of peace.”

“It is our honor to speak with you, Marqex,” Tristan said politely.  “Please continue.”

“To begin, I ask that you understand that there are two factions of the Narrasti.  It is a sad, but necessary result that could not be avoided in light of certain actions taken by the one called Magoa, and the Xanti.  They are not aware of us, which has allowed us to infiltrate them, providing us with certain insights into their plans.  With your approval, we will now transmit data to your ship that will allow you to penetrate the Xanti’s Blind Sight shield.”

“You have our leave, and our appreciation,” Tristan said at once.

Marqex turned to nod at someone they could not see.  Seconds later Captain Rolin confirmed receipt of the data.  “Transmit it to the other ships,” Tristan ordered.  Captain Rolin confirmed the order, his fingers already flying over the control panel.

“We have been forced to withdraw our people from the enemy camp, but we strongly believe that the Xanti intend to attack you at any moment,” Marqex said.  “Unfortunately, we do not have any means of preventing such an attack, or of aiding you during it.”

“You already have, Marqex,” Tristan said, listening as the Katres and the Gryphons left the room for the Observation Deck.  “We are aware of eight Xanti ships.  Do you know if there are more?”

“There were twice that number up until a few days ago,” Marqex replied.  “A shift in Xanti politics caused those to leave, and these eight to take their place.  This has happened several times over the past couple of years.  I am quite certain that more ships are on their way, but for now, eight is the number we have as well.”

“Thank you, Marqex,” Tristan said.  “If you will excuse me for a time, I must direct our forces.  May I contact you on this frequency when we are finished?”

“I would be honored,” Marqex replied.  “Good luck to you, Admiral.”

Tristan bowed, then turned and headed for the door, gathering Faith to his side, Gray and Jon flanking them.  They hurried up the hall and into the Observation Deck where they stood before the viewport.

 “Can you guys see them now?” Faith asked.

“Yes, we can,” Tristan said.  “At the exact coordinates you indicated, too.”

“They’re moving,” Faith said.

“Yes, they are,” Tristan replied.  “Their sensors have picked up the Blind Sight neutralizing transmission.  Now that they know we can see them, they are positioning themselves to attack.”  He moved to a panel and keyed a short command sequence causing a device in the room to project the bearing, course, and weapons state of each of the Xanti ships onto the large viewport so that they could be seen by the room’s occupants.

“They have all armed their weapons and are dispersing into an attack formation.”  They watched as the Xanti ships, which had been arranged in a single, roughly circular array stretched across the task force’s course, broke into four two-ship elements, each of which made a bee line for one of the four most powerful Jasani vessels.  He pointed to the two largest Xanti ships, which did not seem to be moving at all, until Faith squinted at them and could see that they were slowly growing larger.  “Those two are headed straight for this ship.  We will be within range of their weapons in less than ten seconds.  Their technology is superior to ours—they will not be within range of our weapons for five seconds after that.  During that interval, they can fire at us, but our weapons will be ineffective against them.”

Faith wondered why no one was doing anything.  Running away.  Evading.  Whatever it was that space Admiral types did in this situation, this certainly seemed like a good time to be doing it.  The Xanti ships looked extremely powerful and extremely menacing.  Cold tendrils of fear encircled her heart and began to squeeze it in an icy embrace.  Almost unnoticed, her arm slipped around Tristan’s waist.  She reached out with her feelings to all three Falcorans, wondering what emotion she would sense: apprehension, fear, even resignation at impending death?

“Two seconds to Xanti weapons range,” Tristan announced.  “One . . . NOW.”  Then, in an instant, Faith’s reading of the Falcorans’ emotions became clear.  She felt no fear.  Certainly no resignation. 

What she felt was . . . triumph.

Suddenly, Faith felt the
Eyrie
begin to accelerate
toward
the attacking Xanti and noticed the other Jasani ships doing the same.  In that same instant, one of the Xanti ships that was headed for the
Eyrie
vanished in a blinding flash of brilliant white light, as though a new sun had been ignited within its heart.  Faith immediately turned to the second ship and saw with astonishment that, before her eyes, its hull was being pulled back in four huge sections, like the rind of a ripe fruit, after which—deprived of its protective skin--the ship’s fleetingly visible interior structure was torn to pieces by structural stresses and internal atmosphere pressure, seemingly aided by an unseen force that sundered structural support frames from one another and chopped bulkheads and decks into chunks in a manner resembling some gigantic vegetable being cut up by an invisible, but impossibly sharp, knife.  After a few seconds, nothing was left of the second ship but a swirling field of glittering debris.

The remaining Xanti ships immediately broke off their attack, turning their weapons ports away from the Jasani and accelerating away as hard as their drives could propel them.

But, as Faith could see from the ranges projected on the viewport, the Jasani ships were closing on the Xanti.  Having begun their closure maneuver before the Xanti began their evasive one, the Jasani had the laws of mass and acceleration on their side for a few more seconds.

“The Xanti are now within missile range.  The battleships are requesting permission to fire,” Gray announced from his station near the center of the room.

“Weapons free.  They may fire at will,” Tristan said.  Less than a heartbeat after Gray repeated the order, Faith could see a swarm of countless brilliant streaks lancing across the black background of space almost too fast for the eye to follow.  It was only with her enhanced Clan Jasani vision that she could distinguish the bright pinpoint of light generated by the each missile’s engine rapidly accelerating to nearly the speed of light.  The swarm suddenly divided into six groups, each of which surrounded and overwhelmed the defenses of one of the remaining Xanti ships.  One by one, each of the spider/crab like vessels was blotted out of existence, disappearing in an almost impossibly white flare of nuclear fire. 

“They had no shields,” Tristan said in surprise.  “Xanti shields are very powerful, but require more than five minutes to power up.  The Xanti were so confident in their Blind Sight system that they went into battle with their shields down.  They didn’t start the activation sequence until they detected the signal that let us see them.”

“It would have been fun to see the looks on their faces when we penetrated Blind Sight and they realized we could see them, and that they didn’t have shields up,” Gray said.

“Indeed,” Tristan said, a cold smile spreading across his face. 

There were three ships left.  The Katres detonated the fuel in one, the Gryphons tore open the hull of another, and they all watched as the two ships ceased to exist.  Leaving only one.

“That was almost too easy,” Tristan said, grinning with relief.  The Xanti had fired only a handful of missiles, none of which caused any appreciable damage to the task force.

Faith frowned as all of the Jasani relaxed.  “What about the last one?”

Everyone stared at her for a moment, then turned to look out the viewport again.  “We don’t see another one,” Tristan said tightly.  “Where is it?”

“Number four,” Faith said, checking the diagram of ships she’d identified earlier.  “It’s just sitting there.  You don’t see it?”

“No,” Tristan said.  “It’s the furthest from us.  Plainly it’s too far for our transmission to cut through its Blind Sight.”

“We’ll get it,” Maxim Katre said.

“Too late,” Faith said.  “It just went behind the planet.  I don’t see it any more.”

“Damn,” Tristan said. 

“I’m sorry,” Faith said.  “I thought you guys could see all of them.”

“It’s not your fault,” Tristan said.  “We thought we saw all of them too, but you told us where they were and how many.  We should have at least counted them.”  He turned to Captain Rolin.  “Order two battleships and a cruiser to the far side of Onddo, one with the direction of the planet’s rotation, one against, and one in a polar trajectory.  Maybe they’ll get lucky.”

The captain acknowledged the order and immediately transmitted it.

Tristan turned to a view screen and called up the frequency that the Marqex had used.

“Greetings, Marqex,” Tristan said when her face appeared again.

“Greetings, Admiral,” she replied.  “We are most thankful that you were successful in destroying most of the Xanti ships.”

“Unfortunately one of them escaped us,” Tristan said.

“Yes,” Marqex said.  “We ask of you a favor, Admiral of the Jasani.”

“If it is within our power to grant, we shall do so,” Tristan replied.

“As I said, the Narrasti are of two factions now.  It is our desire to exist in peace with the Jasani and the rest of the Thousand Worlds.  If you do not agree, then so be it.  However, we must, with great sadness in our hearts, plead with you to destroy the area on the map which we will send you.”

“What is in that area?” Tristan asked.

“Eggs,” Marqex replied.  “Bio-engineered eggs.  With the aid of the Xanti, Magoa used the Brethren to create eggs which, when hatched, will result in a sort of
super-sugea
.  Each one of these creatures will have more power than any ten normal sugea combined.  Worse, once hatched, they will be nearly impossible to kill.  Only now, while they are still within their shells, can they be destroyed.”

Tristan knew what sugea were.  They were the Narrasti version of the Dracons, only selfish, vicious, and far too powerful.  A creature with ten times that power was beyond the scope of his imagination.

“How many eggs are there?” he asked, his mouth dry.

“We are uncertain of the exact number,” Marqex said.  “By our last count, over fifteen hundred.  Unleashed upon the Thousand Worlds, even without Magoa’s dark influence, they will wreak havoc and destruction such as you cannot imagine.  They must be destroyed, Admiral of the Jasani.  If you must destroy all of us in the process, then that is our destiny, and we accept it.  No matter the cost, those eggs must be destroyed, but we do not possess the means to undertake the task before it is too late.”

“Marqex,” Tristan said, “We will destroy the eggs, and we will do so without causing harm to you, or your people.  It appears that you are at a sufficient distance from the area to insure your safety.  If there are others of your people closer to the targets you have provided us with, please recall them.”

“There are no others of my people there now,” Marqex replied.  “We withdrew days ago, which is why we no longer have an exact counting of the eggs.  By our calculations, none should have hatched yet.”

“Are any people in that area?” Tristan asked.

“There are Narrasti there who follow Magoa.  We have tried to change their views, and encouraged them to leave, but they refused.  I am sorry to say they are your enemies, as well as ours.”

“Very well,” Tristan said.  He turned to meet Maxim Katre’s eyes, then nodded.  Maxim turned to Loni, who tapped his vox and began speaking to the Captain of the
Vyand
.  Tristan turned back to the view screen.

“May I ask, Marqex, what of the Brethren, those who were brought to Onddo from Earth?  Do you have knowledge of them?”

“Yes,” Marqex said.  “Magoa’s experiments destroyed the Brethren.  They are a people no longer, though their leader, one called Stalnek, was still alive at last report.”

“And what of this Magoa?”

“I do not know,” Marqex said.  “Perhaps he was on one of the Xanti ships.  Perhaps not.  I am sorry, Admiral of the Jasani.  I do not possess that knowledge.”

Tristan turned at a gesture from Maxim, then looked at Marqex again.  “Marqex, there was a creature referred to as a
double-headed dragon
that fought some of our people on Earth.  Do you know, or can you tell us, anything about that?”

“Yes, Admiral of the Jasani,” Marqex replied.  “The double-sugea is a combination of Magoa’s powers, and another known as Slater.”

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