MotherShip (33 page)

“But how can we fight together?” Jasus asked. “Before this, our military leaders had opted to allow the Mewiis to first fight the T'kaan. We calculated that after they were destroyed the T'kaan would war with the Kraaqi. We had hoped the T'kaan would be so battered by the time they invaded our worlds that our fleets could destroy them once and for all.”

“You would sacrifice entire races?” Mother asked. “So your race alone would live?”

Jasus looked down, his face full of shame. “We could fight as allies of the Mewiis. But the Kraaqi are hated by our people. Their hatred for us is just as deep. How can we fight together? We are so different.”

“The three races must cooperate. I have computed millions of possible scenarios. The only ones in which the T'kaan are defeated are the ones with a combined force attacking them before they realize you have allied your fleets.”

“But how can our warships fight side by side? How can our squadrons, with so little time to train, fight in tandem with the Kraaqi?”

“It is a difficult problem. But you and the Kraaqi leaders will formulate the answer. You have to.”

Jasus nodded agreement. “I will board a ship within the hour and meet you at this world. The Hrono will be there and we will cooperate.”

“Three is One, and One is Three. T'kaan massed invincibly. All the universe fear and see.”

Inside the Great Horned ships, the walls began to glow and hum. Throughout the quadrant, across the vastness of this section of space, the walls of the T'kaan capital ships bled once again. The T'kaan shuddered with ecstasy and licked and bathed as they climbed over each other inside the frigates, cruisers and battleships.

Between the countless ships, the T'kaan experienced their mutually shared treat for a second time in less than two weeks. Their heightened emotions and thoughts turned once again to another Cycle as the Word for War came from the Great Ones.

This would be the greatest victory the T'kaan had ever experienced—the greatest battle of all Cycles ever known.

The Great Ones surmised that maybe even the Iron Huntress herself would lead the Three Kingdoms to them. She, their greatest enemy in all history. But little did the Huntress know, the Great Ones, too, would all be there, to guide all the T'kaan and finish the job left undone.

There would be a decisive victory, in a single great battle. The thing was determined.

Over the ships, a chant began to twine around the mental imprint of the coming battle. It echoed from the hulls and the from dark flowing, curtains. The curtains danced again among all the horned ships.

“Slip and slide, sweet, oh sweet. Lick and lick the purple treat! Make us one and make us strong. Make our victory complete!”

The three Fleet Commanders wrapped their tentacles around each other in a blind embrace, their bodies covered by the purple fluid. Sliding their multiple appendages over each other's bodies, they rubbed the slimy purple deeper and deeper into their rubbery skin.

Through all of this fantastic embrace, even from inside the Great Horned ships, the three Great Ones reached out to each other for the first time in millennia through the black folds. From deep inside they touched each other, channeling their renewed strength throughout their living force.

In wave after wave they sent their shared ecstasy back to the rest of the T'kaan located inside the warships—back through the bond that entwined them all as one. The millions of T'kaan felt this energy dripping through the purple as they licked and bathed. The flowing black folds moved as if the strong winds of a storm swept through the dark interiors of every warship.

They chanted their one thought.

“Destroy the Kingdoms Three. Hammer them, kill them, make them no more. Great Ones and T'kaan Fleets soon shall be Four!”

The battle plan was finished and the combined T'kaan fleets turned as one. In approximately two months, they would arrive en masse and join with the lead squadrons who had been sent ahead on feeler assaults against the Mewiis worlds. Together, they would attack the combined fleets of the Three Kingdoms, as the Great Ones prophesied. The only question now was the exact location of the coming battle. The rest had been decided.

The T'kaan smelled victory once again.

Kyle looked over the desert plain of this empty world, shielding his eyes from the stinging wind and sand. But he smiled through it all as his eyes fell upon the familiar shape sitting on the desert sand ahead. He didn't realize how much he had missed Mother until her manta ray silhouette appeared on the horizon.

He couldn't keep the smile off his face as he continued walking.

Rok had landed the Kraaqi shuttle from the Thunderer as Kyle navigated them to Mother's position which she had communicated to all parties en route. Now Kyle led Rok, Rawlon, Curja and the other great Kraaqi Captains toward her and the pre-assigned meeting. Kyle glanced back. The seven High Chieftains were also there; they were the only ones still wearing their royal robes, now draped tightly around their bodies and faces in an effort to protect themselves from the stinging wind of this desert planet. Their golden rings of office were wrapped around the base of each horn, and just behind their necks, the robes billowed from the wind as it howled in sudden bursts.

Kyle looked further back and found Jaric and Becky near the rear of their entourage. But they were oblivious to everything except each other. Kyle looked away before that feeling of bitterness returned. He looked back at Mother, and felt a growing pleasure inside his soul that he had not known for many days.

“What do you think of that warship?” Kyle said to Rok as he pointed at Mother's sleek profile.

Rok looked at the fearsome shape ahead, the subtle curves and angles of her hull and wings. The dark hull that now gleamed with purple highlights in the bright desert sun.

“This warship looks dangerous,” Rok commented.

“She is,” Kyle agreed. “That is the most powerful and dangerous warship in the universe.”

Rok glanced at him and growled approval.

A few moments later and they were under the shadow of Mother's left wing.

Kyle smiled up at the visual sensor that had popped out and was now gazing at them. Kyle raised a finger to Mother for silence. Inside, he knew Mother was scanning them, especially the Kraaqi.

Walking up to her hull, Kyle rapped on the armored hull with his knuckles. Turning around, he leaned back until his shoulder rested against her comforting bulk while he smiled confidently at the Kraaqi warriors. Leaning there casually against the ship, he spoke with pride to all the Kraaqi. “She's a cool ship, eh, fellas?”

Rawlon and the others looked around and admired her sleek lines and curves. They tapped on the curved wing directly above their heads, the echoes from the steel resounding strength.

Rawlon smiled at Kyle. “It is a...
cool
ship.”

“She's my mother,” Kyle added.

The Kraaqi warriors froze, staring at him with puzzlement etched on their faces. Laughter broke out among some at the rear. Even Rok and Rawlon stared at their newfound friend as if he had just lost his mind.

Jaric and Becky, hand in hand, came up and stood beside Kyle. They smiled at the ship around them.

“It's true,” Jaric added. “This warship is our mother.”

A door opened and Guardian stepped down onto the still descending ramp. A strong, female voice emanated from multiple points on the hull where the external speakers were located.

“Welcome.”

Several of the Kraaqi looked around furtively, searching for the source of the bodiless voice.

“Welcome, leaders of Kraaqi.” Mother repeated.

Rok's eyes widened as he looked quickly around the warship, and then back at Kyle. “The warship speaks?”

“The warship is alive,” Becky answered.

“How?” Rawlon asked, still puzzled.

“Artificial Intelligence.” Kyle said matter-of-factly.

Curja stood close beside the First Captain. “Technology that is...alive? Can this be good?”

“You were born of this warship?” Rawlon asked incredulously .

“Well, we were
borne
by her,” Jaric chuckled at his play on words.

“She is not our biological parent,” Becky added, ignoring Jaric's stab of humor. “But she raised us from children. She protected us; she taught us. She nurtured us to adulthood.”

“And she loved us,” Kyle added.

Rok gently caressed the armored hull.

The other Kraaqi whispered to each other excitedly as they began walking around Mother's hull, touching her armored steel with awe mixed with fear.

“My visuals are pleased to focus on you again, Kyle.” The words emanated from Guardian's speaker. Even though they were Mother's thoughts and words, she knew she spoke for Guardian as well.

“We're glad to see you, too.” Kyle patted the giant robot on his metal shoulder.

“Yes, your images were many times called back into our near-term memories. We were perplexed at first. We had not called the images—consciously.” Guardian's head lowered as Mother's voice spoke for both of them. “Guardian has communicated to me that he would like to interact with you. He wants to become self-aware.”

Kyle stared up at the frozen face.

“Wow, Guardian. That'd be great,” Jaric said.

“Thank you. Mother is going to upgrade my programming soon.” Again, Mother spoke the words that she knew Guardian wanted to say. But without a direct connection into her systems, Guardian could not form his own thoughts.

“Great news,” Becky said with joy. “We'll help.”

Guardian stood silently with the children as they began relating their adventures of the last few days across three Kraaqi worlds. Mother listened attentively to their happy chatter that formed a backdrop as the others began to arrive.

“The Mewiis contingent has just landed. My sensors show the Hrono are also coming out of hyperspace and will be entering orbit momentarily. Our historic meeting will soon begin.”

“The weak link in our proposed alliance,” Curja said with disdain as he watched the Mewiis shuttle land.

Rawlon looked at his aide, his eyes hard. “We shall see, Curja.”

Saris led her delegation across the burning sand with a proud military bearing. They soon arrived under the shadow of Mother's right wing. Mother had just completed introductions when the Hrono shuttle came into view. Its prism-shaped hull grew larger until the bold emblem of the Sun and Lightning Bolt became discernible on its hull.

Kyle heard the growls and harsh whispers from the Kraaqi at the rear of the group.

“Kraaqi Captains,” Mother said. “You must know from my communications that you have a new enemy, a great enemy, who would swallow your worlds whole and destroy them as they did the human worlds. Save your anger for them.”

“You must know,” Rawlon said with a stern voice. “That your unasked for communications sent our entire population into panic. Only after the High Chieftains had given their explicit word that these T'kaan were still far away and no immediate threat were we able to calm our women and children. Across ninety worlds!” Rawlon emphasized.

“I am sorry. But your leaders and the Hrono had failed to see the true seriousness of the T'kaan. The images of a dying race were not easy to play and send to your unsuspecting populations,” Mother said.

“But it had to happen,” Kyle added. “Time is running out. We have to do this thing. Now.”

Rawlon nodded. “We are ready to talk.”

The Hrono approached. Their crown of scales gleamed in the bright sunshine as they walked confidently toward the gathered crowd under Mother's wings. They marched forward and took their places beside Saris and the Mewiis delegation without a word. The three separate groups stared at each in other in a tense silence.

“You are gathered together today in a common bond,” Mother began. “That bond is survival—the survival of your races. The survival of your worlds, of your children.”

“It is agreed,” Jasus, Leader of Hrono, said. “We come here, representing the Hrono. Already we are preparing. We have begun work on twelve of our ships. Soon the upgrade with the hybrid weapon will be complete on all of them. We are gathering our fleets from every quadrant in order to upgrade all of our capital ships.” The Hrono leader paused as his scales flexed with thought. “But how can we fight together, we who are sworn enemies?” Jasus raised his head and stared at the High Chieftains.

Admiral Saris looked over the two groups, her head-tail swishing with her pounding adrenaline. She raised her right arm in a fist, as did all the Mewiis. In that pose, she spoke.

“Our dead are being eaten, even as we speak.”

A hushed murmuring swept through the three delegations.

Saris looked around, looking deeply into each face. “Our first planet has fallen to the hated T'kaan squadrons. Our first ships have been destroyed. Our first children have been murdered!”

An electric silence whipped on the desert wind.

“We have come here to fight them, to fight the T'kaan with you.” She walked directly up to Rawlon. “We are not a warrior people, but we will fight under your direction. Show us the way, great leader of the Kraaqi.”

“Can you fight?” Curja spat sarcastically in return. “A race who allows their females to lead them into battle?”

Saris's gaze turned hard and cold as her head-tail went stiff. She turned to the burning eyes of Curja.

“Right here. Right now.” She said bitterly. Bending her body into battle stance, she snarled. “You and me.”

Curja started forward, only to have Rawlon's hand slam into his chest. Curja looked into his Captain's face.

“Stand down,” Rawlon ordered. “We have another enemy.” Rawlon glanced at Mother. “As the living warship says.”

“I am Tarlog, Grand Admiral of the combined Hrono fleets.” A Hrono, older than Jasus and the others, came forward. Several scales were broken or missing in the twin rows that crossed over his head. Unflinching, he looked into the strong, youthful face of Rawlon.

Rawlon began chuckling.

“What is so funny?” The old Hrono warrior asked.