Chapter 15: Barking Irons at Le’Telren Part 1

Free from Denji’Kei’s orbit, two spaceships resided together. Both the Rampage and the Theseus remained side by side. Two ancient Earth ships far from home, with only the rustic red dust particles that surrounded much of the scenery. Yet, the dust was never enough to block out the vast spectrum of stars that glowed light-years upon light-years away. Each ship was spaced apart enough to allow proper jump alignment. Gate probes were launched from both ships. The large cylindrical devices were forming a ring in front of each vessel. The task was nearly complete as the rings flashed an orange caution light.

Inside the Rampage, near the mid-dorsal section past one of the 16-inch gun turrets, the elevator door slid open. In the zero-gravity environment, Darin’s boots clanked onto the deck. Wearing his leather gloves, his white cowboy hat, and classic attire, the cowboy made a brief look around him. The ad-hoc construction of the Rampage had been gutted, forming the rearward passageway that led to one of the ship’s ancient but powerful weapons. Ahead of Darin was the main doorway, including two separate doors beside it leading to a small office or other utility rooms. A mix of old and new ran throughout the area. The combination of white and gray and well-lit lighting filled the scene.

Darin approached the main door ahead of him as it slid open.

Inside the main bridge, the scenery itself was somewhat darker, where the lower-level lighting wouldn’t cause too much glare into the more basic computer screens and console displays alike. The Rampage’s bridge was not like the typical UHN ship’s CIC. Much of the interior had been rebuilt, consoles rearranged, moved about, and rebolted to the floors. Yet, in the semblance of all the former construction, there was harmonic beauty in the scenery around the man. Various older electronic computers from the early 22nd century resided around the crew present. Three large, bulky displays lined the room with four crew members manning their stations, strapped in and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Darin’s main station in the center was partly elevated, with numerous consoles primarily on the starboard side, forming an L-shape. The civilian crews all wore their own set of clothing.

Darin could immediately recognize that Charles was manning the navigation console. The man named Bastian had a mixed facial appearance, of both US and Mexican ancestry. He was lankier, his hands fumbling around with the various controls from where Minato would normally sit. Natch sat at the main comms station, behind the main central chair of the bridge. He wore a set of headphones over his ears with his one working hand, operating the console where it required the least physical effort.

“Natch,” Darin addressed him. “Good to have you up here on the bridge for once.”

“Everyone will fight, Darin,” Natch said. “I would not miss this opportunity to serve.”

The cowboy turned to his left to see the engineering console, operated by a woman. While not the chief engineer, Aisha, a woman with a dark complexion, was a common sight in bridge operations, often serving as the bridge coordinator for engineering operations on the Rampage.

“Status on the gate ring formation,” Darin said, strapping himself into the chair, overlooking his console.

“Ring is set for both the Rampage and the Theseus,” Charles replied. “Ready to charge up for gate formation on your command.”

Ahead, Darin could see the live feed on the main display. Space filled the void. A hint of red dust appeared in the background, but looking westward, away from the Hesik Expanse, the filament density was noticeably lower than behind the ship. The gate ring, formed by the array of gate probes, had taken on a circular shape. The green light showed proper synchronization.

“Let’s get a move on, Charles,” Darin replied. “Natch, give the order to the Theseus to proceed with the jump as soon as the wormhole formation is stable. Same goes with you, Charles.”

Charles flipped an antiquated toggle switch on his console while Natch said something on his head mic.

“Aye, Captain,” Charles replied.

“Theseus is proceeding with gate formation,” Natch added.

The probes were powering up. All energy was being siphoned into the center. From Darin’s console, the readings showed that the probe’s coordinates indicated a two-light-year journey deeper into the main heart of the Hesik Expanse itself.

Ahead, the tiny formation of blue particles began to appear in the ring. In less than ten seconds, the swarming particles began to spin in place. In minutes, they would form a vortex.

Sitting comfortably, strapped into his chair, Darin knew that in mere minutes, the Rampage and the Theseus were going into battle. The tension in the room was light at first, but he surmised that the crew was anxious. Regardless of how brave they were, everyone knew they were going into combat, either to fight another day or die in the process.

“Natch,” Darin turned to look at him. “Do me a favor and patch me in on the Rampage and the Theseus so that everyone can hear me.”

Natch reached over on his console and flipped two switches. He gave the thumbs up to him in silence.

A ship’s hail call could be heard in the intercoms around him as the cowboy pressed his gloved hands together.

“Attention, all the brave souls of the Rampage and the Theseus,” Darin addressed them, his voice carrying out to everyone on both ships. “This is Captain Darin. In about four minutes, we’ll be making our jump to Le’telrin. In less than ten minutes, I reckon we’ll be in the fight of our lives that’ll be remembered for centuries to come. No matter how big, no matter how small it may appear to be, our actions today will determine the fate of billions. It’s not like how we envisioned it, the day I founded the organization that created our teams and loved ones alike, but in the end, the Blue Buccaneers came to fruition...”

The cowboy took a deep breath as he briefly paused to think about it.

“This fight will be the first true test for both the crews of the Rampage and Theseus alike. Contrary to the newcomers of our BREECA brothers and sisters alike, the Rampage has had a few victories here and there. Our targets were small; others were us scratching the surface of something mighty fierce as we fled with our tail tucked in between our legs along the way. Our resources have been limited, fewer than a town scrounging for scraps just to put on a horse-drawn wagon with a 400-year-old cannon and calling it a battle tank. Our enemies laugh in our faces. They think we’re nobodies. Our allies, the T’rintar, think we can’t do this. They expect us to sit at home, be the good little boys and girls as they continue on with this fight. Little do they know that the local natives have gotten restless. They’re rising up, Earth that is. Before they know it, every fallen nation that existed long before most of the Earthers took off are suddenly putting the pieces together. Suddenly, they aren’t just fightin the horse-drawn wagon; they’re fightin a caravan, an army that they can’t stop.”

The smile on the man’s face grew as he thought about his journey from rejected UHN officer to now. Ahead, the swirling particles in the gate probe ring were growing with more and more intensity.

“We aren’t just fightin for the Itreans or the T’rintar,” the cowboy continued. “We’re fightin for ourselves. While the UWA sits comfortably behind their luxury hotels, spas, and newfound Edens, they gave up on what was important to them. They became complicit with the Itreans. Without as much as a lick and a handshake, they willingly surrendered our home to the T’rintar. Meanwhile, the T’rintar don’t want to call us Earthers anymore, but fellow Itreans, ripping apart our homes and landscapes piece by piece in the manner of their own virtue. We aren’t like that. We aren’t laying down without a fight. I quite reckon that the T’rintar are looking at us right now and saying one phrase: ‘Go back home. Go back to your barns and domes where you belong.’”

The man took off his hat and placed it to his stomach as the crew listened in on him. The minutes traveled by as the wormhole grew in strength. The cowboy imagined Gabatrix and his voyage through the stars with the Martian technology.

“I don’t know about you,” Darin said. “But I reckon Gabatrix was told something quite similar back in his time. He wasn’t like the others. The Martians expected him to listen in and follow every order given to him, but they didn’t know that the man was a rogue, the local scoundrel who decided to disobey what everyone told him. He listened in on his own instincts and decided to think like what the early explorers did, what the pirates and local privateers did in their time. And before we knew it, we stood ready to venture into the unknown. I think Gabatrix would be mighty fine with us continuing that legacy, becoming the Blue Buccaneers. In less than a few minutes, we’ll be departing straight into the small hornet’s nest. We’ll both be taking the hits, but only one of us will remain standing after the day is done. Through hellfire, we find our salvation, and so will they. Our mission isn’t just for ourselves, but for the Helera’kun, the Shal’rein who’ve been thoroughly convinced that we’re the enemy, without ever knowing that their government, the clans above them, have been spewing nothing but lies to them.”

The cowboy turned to look at Natch.

“And now it’s our turn,” Darin continued. “It’s up to us to do what the Blue Buccaneers do best, and make a little chaos of our own. I’m sure some of you are nervous, some too reckless, but in the end, it doesn’t matter anyway. Instead, the historians will remember your bravery, each and every one of you. If it’s our time, we leave with a grin on our face, our chests laid bare to our foes for them to see and admire. The T’rintar will have no choice but to listen to the few fearless who dared fight for their cause as the same Itreans try to take away their homes in the process. Eventually, some of them are going to stop and give us a voice as we roar in front of them. No matter what background you come from, the experienced or inexperienced alike, whatever history you might have had, they’ll remember the fact that you were willing to charge headlong into battle. Let God decide on who the most courageous wins. Let favor fortune the bold...”

By now, the wormholes ahead of the Rampage and the Theseus were nearing perfect completion. Its size was reaching its maximum limit, stretching outward to the gate probes themselves. The bridge crew nodded in approval as Charles briefly turned to look at Darin, a grin on his face. Darin put his hat back on his head, placing his hands on the armrests of his chair.

“I heard a nice little rumor that spread about on the Rampage,” Darin concluded. “It went along with something with our local Preacher who turned out to be a mighty fine singer ... went along and got the other engineers to sing along with him. Right now ... I reckon it’s time that our enemies got a chance to hear some of those classic songs. It’s time we let the Shal’rein know the true might of the Blue Buccaneers as we charge into battle, our voices held high. I’ve given the order that the engineering department’s intercom will be placed over the ship’s speakers and radioed out into space. The Shal’rein will hear their mighty voices...” He paused for one last moment. “Godspeed to everyone...”

With that, Darin gestured for Natch to close the channel as the Native American flipped the switches to comply with Darin’s request.

There was a brief flash of light ahead of the Rampage and the Theseus as the gate probe array had reached cohesion. The swirling vortex had formed properly. Tiny hints of lightning would erupt from the center outward as the probes continued to drain energy from their limited battery life.

“Gate stable,” Charles said. “Theseus reports the same.”

“Giddy up, Charles,” Darin replied.

It was all that the helm officer needed to hear as he tapped the button on his console and pressed down on the throttle beneath his magnetic boot. Outside in space, the rear engines of both ships turned a dim blue light as flames erupted. The vessel was gently thrust forward, ensuring that the crew could handle the sudden acceleration. Both aging battleships began their movement toward the gate probe rings ahead of them.

Inside Turret Two’s engineering space, a similar room that Darin had long seen before, Malachi had heard Darin’s call for a song. Without question, from the standing wall strap that held him in place, he looked over at the other engineers doing the same, feeling their bodies try to shift as the Rampage moved forward.

The preacher was adamant, knowing what Darin was trying to do, ensuring that his fellow engineers had an active role to perform.

With a few hard thumps from his hand to the bulkhead, the preacher called out to everyone.

“Listen up, men!” the preacher took a deep breath. His voice grew hard as he sang with all his might, slapping the bulkhead to produce a slow drum beat. In less than a few seconds, others joined up with him in song.

“It’s a damn tough life, full of toil and strife, we whalermen undergo

And we don’t give a damn when the gale is done, how hard the winds did blow

Cause we’re homeward bound from the Arctic ground with a good ship, taut, and free

And we don’t give a damn when we drink our rum with girls of Old Maui.

Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys, rolling down to Old Maui

We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Ground

Rolling down to Old Maui...”

From inside the bridge, Darin could hear the other engineers in the turret compartments singing along with Father Malachi over the bridge intercom in low volume. The cowboy watched as the Rampage approached the swirling vortex ahead. All that he could see was the black maw.

Suddenly, a flash of tunneling light erupted for less than a couple of seconds before the captain could see the emergence of real space. Both the Theseus and the Rampage had left the wormhole’s exit aperture behind; the Earth and Jolly Roger flags painted on the sides of the ships’ hulls glistened in the bright field of heated dust nearby.

“Both us and the Theseus have cleared the exit aperture,” Charles notified Darin.

“Detecting two Shal’rein warships,” Natch said, looking at his display. “Scoutship and their heavy warship.”

“It’s them, alright,” Darin requested. “No doubt we’re at Le’telrin. Charles, status on location.”

“We’re closer to the planet than expected with our exit point,” Charles said. “I can’t pick up the base on the surface ... Correction, I am reading a base on the nearby planet, barely in visual range.”