Chapter 11: The Ring of Destiny Part 1

Today...

“I never knew...,” Scott said.

“Yes,” Velshar confessed. “It was the hardest decision of my life.”

Scott was lying in bed alongside Veleshar, their nakedness covered by the bedsheets. Yui’to wasn’t present as she went to serve her watch a couple of hours after the three’s escapade in the tub. This left the man to ask Veleshar one of the most important questions: how and why she left her people. This wouldn’t be just some simple question with a simple answer, but it would be as in-depth as possible.

“It’s a lot to digest, honestly,” the man remarked. “You’re telling me that there was a human amongst your people? Is she still alive? No ... she isn’t ... you told me already.”

“I wish she were,” Veleshar replied. “But I wouldn’t be here talking to you if that were the case.”

“I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her ... Eliza’treta...” Scott seemed to give a confused look. “It ... almost sounds like ... Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes. It’s a more common name for us. It might have been her real name.”

“And my former mate made sure to change it to something that would fit Itrean ... Hmmm...”

Veleshar turned her body to look at Scott, and a gentle smile appeared on her face.

“The Gray Rhyolite,” Scott shook his head on the pillow. “I don’t know much about my history. Never really heard of it. I would imagine that there were a few ships that disappeared from time to time. I would almost recommend bringing this up to the records department ... notify her family members of her fate.”

Veleshar gave a hint of a frown. “I ... would not feel comfortable doing that.”

“Why?”

“It was ... difficult to tell you this story, Scott.”

“Bad memories?”

“No ... I believe that this was part of a story that belonged to my former mate. I could never truly figure out why he kept Eliza’treta ... Elizabeth’s history a secret. I don’t know if he was following her wishes or his own. I feel honor bound to follow that request...”

“But, you told me.”

“Because I trust that you’ll be here for a very long time by my side. A mate can be trusted with such information. You must promise me to keep this between us ... honor Gular’shel’s wishes.”

Scott shrugged. “Sure...”

“Maybe ... one day ... her story will be known ... but I think she is best alongside my former mate in the afterlife, resting beside my former mate.”

“But what about you? Everything that happened with your daughter ... leaving your clan behind...”

Veleshar’s nostrils flared as she looked away. “It took time with Yui’to. She almost turned me in at first, but as more of the classified material came in, she believed it. She ... surprised me when she finally agreed and helped me convince the others. I made an agreement with the others who wished to stay in the Shal’rein clan a chance to leave the ship when the defection occurred. Nobody wanted to stay in the Shal’rein clan.”

“All of them were that loyal to you?”

“No ... it wasn’t really that. I think some of them were scared and wanted to stay behind. They would have had an alibi, but it might not have been enough. They probably knew the Shal’rein would punish them for my betrayal. But with Shira...”

She looked defeated. It seemed that discussing her daughter had been the hardest on her.

“Shira paid the price for my actions...,” she admitted. “My assumption was correct ... most of it.”

“Then she betrayed them,” Scott answered.

“I put her in that position ... Itrea’s Embrace ... I keep asking myself if the decision was the right one ... I put her in danger. I risked her life taking this ship away ... and I only cared for myself and the crew.”

“What could you do?”

She shook her head. “I had no answer. I simply ... acted on it.”

“How does she feel about it? Now, I mean.”

“She forgave me ... in her own way, of course. I think it was best for her to be working for the UHN even if she sacrificed much for it. She has a mate now, and I will become a grandmother because of it.”

“Wow, it sounds like she’s doing ok,” he remarked.

“I felt so much relief when I finally saw her. I would have traded my soul to make sure she was alright.”

There was a pause as Scott thought about all of it. His life felt like a cakewalk compared to what she had to go through.

“Heh ... that’s kinda strange,” he remarked.

“What is?” She asked.

“We’ve been discussing having kids, and your daughter is going to have one.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re going to become a grandmother and have another kid.”

“So? Itreans are known to become great grandparents and still produce offspring.”

“I guess it makes sense. I mean, your people age slower than we do ... plenty of opportunity to have kids at any time.”

“I don’t mind. I would be happy to give Shira a brother or sister.”

“I feel really bad for yesterday,” Scott said to her. “To know so much about your past and wanting out of this fight. I feel like a friggin coward.”

Veleshar put her hand to his chest. “I’m afraid, too. Sometimes, I try to convince myself not to do it. The day I made this ship, I envisioned it flying through Renlar, shooting everything that came its way. I wanted to see it fly through the atmosphere and straight up to the holy temple of the Empress ... blast it to pieces.”

“It’s not that easy, though...”

“No ... it would have already happened if that were the case. The Empress had imagined every possibility. Even her temple is encased in a solid tungsten block frame. It would be one of the final places on Renlar to survive an all-out bombardment. She knows how to survive ... but I can still damage her great ring ... show everyone that the Aksren are still vulnerable ... something to help give us just a little bit more hope ... and maybe ... help convince my people back home that we have a common cause.”

Scott took a deep breath as he sat up from the bed. It was late at night, and Veleshar watched the man intently. She noticed that he was getting out of bed.

“Tired of my rambling?” she asked.

“It sounds like you might need some help,” Scott said. “I know the UHN might be too scared to assist you in this sort of operation ... not like we really have that much to do as it is ... but ... I might know somebody that would.”

“You do?”

“Well ... I don’t really know him, but I know a friend that knows him. Have you ever heard of the Blue Buccaneers?”

“ ... Yes, I have,” Veleshar sat up on her bed as she thought about it. “My daughter mentioned them to me in my last conversation. They are some sort of human Earth resistance movement.”

“I don’t know too much about them either, but from what I heard, they managed to launch an old Earth Battleship, the Rampage. It’s been decked out as some sort of raider. Captain Darin commands it. Since Earth is not really part of the UWA anymore, Darin isn’t tied down by the UHN. He’s independent ... and supposedly the type that prefers missions that would be ... well, like this.”

Veleshar seemed unsure for a moment. However, she seemed to be enlightened enough to entertain the concept at least.

“I can try to contact my friend,” Scott said. “Maybe get ahold of this ... Darin.”

She thought about it for a moment and did a quick nod.

Both Scott and Veleshar stood in their uniforms. It had been over an hour. The digital communication display of Veleshar’s quarters depicted a man with a pale complexion. He was young, handsome, and dashing for some. From what Scott could note, Darin was a North American, a Texan pure of heart. The background behind him depicted his quarters as an almost cobbled mess of bulkheads bolted together. There was an unusual hanging flag that Scott didn’t recognize, consisting of 13 red and white stripes with a blue square and 52 stars in the top left corner. An unknown Colt six-shooter revolver was adorned next to it.

Right from the start, Scott could note Darin’s appearance and tone. He wore a cowboy hat with a pin that had a flag depicting red, white, and blue with a single star on the left. He didn’t wear the classic UHN uniform but more of a black and brown leather outfit. His voice was aggressive but not overtly hostile. He was brazen, with his arms mounted to the top of his swinging leather chair as he communicated to the two.

“An operation to attack the most powerful shipyard on Renlar?” Darin asked. “When do we get started?”

“The plan has been forwarded to my superiors,” Veleshar explained. “It’s currently pending. However, I’m still considering how you would be a part of this. I want you to explain to me how your resources can help me.”

“You’re Shira’s mother, correct?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, you spoke with her?”

“Hell yeah, I did. About as entertaining as a brick in the desert heat. She looks nothing like you, either. But...,” he pointed at Veleshar. “She has the intel I need.”

The man lifted up his feet and propped them onto his desk, exposing a pair of brown cowboy boots fitted with magnetic straps. He put his hands behind his back and gave a stern look at the pair.

“Your name, Scott?” Darin asked, looking at him.

“Yes, I am,” Scott replied.

“You’re good friends with Natch?”

“Niache? I know him. Met him in Waterville, DC, a few years ago, been speaking with him ever since.”

“Normally he’s pretty selective in who he calls a friend. Was even harder in prying him away from New Houston. For a Native American, he’s one tough son of a bitch ... good ol Natch.” He looked at Veleshar. “Anyway, you want to know a little bit about me. The name’s Christopher Darin. I own Darin Industries back on Earth.”

Scott looked at Veleshar. “Some of the tools we use in the UHN come from Darin Industries.”

“Yep,” Darin continued. “Part of Genisen Industries ... was. Since Earth was handed away in a silver platter to you, Itreans, my company was cut from the tit. Tried to become an officer for the UHN, but the Martians wanted none of me. So, I said, ‘Fuck Em.’ I went and pulled the resources together, garnered the status quo, and pulled out this puppy...” Darin tapped his finger on the hull of his quarters. “Called it Project Frankenstein, all about getting Earth’s ass in gear for war.”

“What type of ship is it?” Veleshar asked.

“The privateer kind ... the type that goes into enemy territory and pillages every Aksren and Shal’rein target that I can find. But, in layman’s terms, this is a Theodore Roosevelt Class Battleship, the last of her class made during the Earth Exodus, when most of the humans grew yellow-bellied and ran away with their tails tucked between their legs.” He looked at his quarters. “They never finished her ... left her to rot in Waterville DC. So, what I did was pour some love into her. We opened up the munitions factories, got them churning ammo, and pulled every asset available. Named her the Rampage. Spent a good year getting her into operational condition. Been doing pretty well, too, after our raid on the Aksren observation post at Sector LHX-35.”

“You took out an observation outpost?”

“Yep, Aksren were looking in the wrong place when I closed in and blew it to hell. Told the T’rintar I made a hole for them ... like that’s going to accomplish anything. Fixin on taking on a Shal’rein outpost next, thanks to the info your daughter gave to me.”

“That’s a serious undertaking,” Veleshar remarked with a smile.

“As serious as an orange muck duststorm on a Tuesday.”

“What can you tell me about your ship? What are your weapons?”

“I have four triple 16-inch gun turrets, pried them off the USS Missouri and Iowa before the orange muck claimed them for good, along with multiple 5-inch guns taken from other surface ships in the past. I also have a bow-mounted railgun and planetary nuclear flak gun poking its head on the nose of my ship.”

“You use ancient cannons?” Scott asked.

“Use what I got. The Rampage is older than Sin, but she’s got some fight in her. The whole ship is designed to fire the guns in a heavy barrage. She’s meant for shellen and raining down death until the turrets rip off or I run out of ammo.”

“You managed to do all that with obsolete guns. How do you compensate for loading, recoil, or spent shells?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. As I said, the ship has been purposely designed to fire them. Bet I can still deliver a good broadside onto one of them Shal’rein battleships. Now, let’s stop talking about me and start talking about this nice little op into the heart of Aksren space.”

“Hmmm...,” Veleshar considered as she put her hand to her snout. “I’m not sure if your ship would survive such an operation. I plan on attacking Renlar; use my ship to sneak in and engage the planetary shipyard ring.”

“Sounds like a juicy target. Yeah, I know Zildrek ... big shipyard, plenty of areas to hit at once. As for risk, you understand why I call myself and my crew the Blue Buccaneers? We’re all about flying straight into danger and punching the enemy right in the face. I have fresh volunteers, bravest men, and women that would put the UHN to shame, I reckon.”

“Can you handle having thousands of warships descend upon you as I fly in and attack the ring?”

“You know it, but...” Darin lifted his finger. “There’s still a nice little fancy price tag to all of that. I help you, and you give me something in return. Your daughter told me a little about you, where you both come from.”

“I can consider giving you locations of small targets that you can possibly hit,” Veleshar bargained with him. “Maybe I can help supply your ship for future endeavors as well.”

“Now we’re talking.”

“I will need time to consider your involvement in the operation,” Veleshar explained. “For now, I will need the specifications on your ship.

“You got it.”

“Captain Darin, thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” Darin lightly tipped his hat.

“I will contact you again in a few hours after my decision.”

“Scott ... Petty Officer Scott ... you take care of that pretty lady, you hear?”

Scott nodded his head. “Of course.”

With that, the comms ended as the screen went dark, leaving Scott to look at Veleshar.

“I’m not sure,” she said.

“Me too,” Scott replied. “All he has is an old battleship, but...” the man shrugged. “He’s already spoken with your daughter. It’s all I can offer to help you out.”

A serene smile appeared on her face. “He destroyed an observation outpost by himself. Thank you, Scott. Maybe he can still help us out. Let’s see what we can plan in the next few hours...”

“Zildrek is vulnerable,” Veleshar explained. “After years of planning, we have the resources needed to conduct our strike.”

It had been later that night. The interior conference room consisted of over six Itreans and one human who were physically present. Scott had his translator devices fitted into his ears as the Itreans discussed in the Itrean language. Two 3D projectors resided that projected the Greater Adjunct Siera’lara from her unknown location. The other projection showed Captain Darin alongside an unknown Yutilian who appeared as a translator of some sort. Supposedly, from what Scott heard, Darin’s wife was a Yutilian. She was obese, but only her scaly hand could be seen holding onto Darin’s arm.

Scott noted the others who were present. This included Veleshar, who stood by her table and pointed at a 3D projection of Renlar’s layout. Yui’to and another Yutilian Greater Adjunct sat in the conference tables closest to Veleshar. Scott, Gen’wi, and two other Yutilians resided in the far-distant seats. The man didn’t know the other Yutilians too well yet, although he met the one closest to Veleshar. She was known as Greater Centurion Bop’ita, the third in command of the Gular’shel. She had long dark green feathers, yellow stripes, and light green scaly skin. From what Scott knew, she was generally foul-tempered but reasonable. Supposedly, she came from a Kre and Shish background, carrying sharpened spike bangles that she wore along her uniform. The man still remembered what Veleshar told him, that he had to be careful around her as she was known to kill without remorse when angered. It was the polar opposite of Gen’wi, who seemed slightly more timid.

“As of late yesterday,” Veleshar explained in Itrean. “We have received our heavier nuclear shells. Greater Adjunct Siera’lara has agreed to offer some of her warships and resources to participate in this operation, along with the permission provided by the other Greater Adjuncts.” The woman gestured to the projection of the human and spoke in English. “And I would like to thank Captain Darin, who will also provide his ship and resources into this battle.”

“Any way to strike at the heart of the Aksren clan,” Darin replied.

“A suicidal mission,” Siera’lara calmly replied in English briefly glancing to the human.

“At least Veleshar has the cohunes to face them head-on where you sit back in your chair and bitch about it.”

It was unknown how much Siera’lara understood Darin. Scott watched as the projection glanced back at the human. Then, she turned around and looked back at Scott. For a moment, the man swore he saw a death stare, almost as if she was going to sneak into their beds and poison them both if she had the chance. It was only said in her body movements and nothing more before she returned to look at Veleshar. Scott felt annoyed. The Shish were generally the quietest of Yutilians, letting their movements and reactions do the most talking. However, he knew that the Greater Adjunct was having to sacrifice more than the other T’rintar leadership was ever doing. Veleshar remained quiet unless the conversation grew openly hostile. It was the best move as Scott knew that Veleshar’s resources were limited. Anything could devalue and reduce the chances of making this work. Instead, the man looked at Darin where their eyes briefly met. He could not tell Darin to keep his attitude in check, but the cowboy captain almost seemed to read his mind. He was hoping it would be enough to persuade the civilian to be patient and not escalate possible arguments.

The 3D projection of Renlar changed. It shifted to the side to show the giant ring that orbited it. From the side angle, the ring almost seemed menacing. To Scott, it was huge, an artificial construction that took thousands of years to complete. It was a megalith of engineering at its finest. There were two large rows of small red dots. This consisted of the 1st defense fleet closest to the ring and the outer defense fleet patrolling outside of the ring of ships. It was like looking an ant hill filled with fire ants. To even stir it would warrant an entire wave of opposing Aksren ships. A series of green dots appeared at the outer edge far from the outer wall of Aksren ships.

“At Itrea’s dawn tomorrow,” Veleshar explained in Itrean. “We will conduct our strike. A series of false gates will deployed at the outer edge that will envelope around the planet. This will distract the Aksren fleet to systematically engage and close them out. However,” Veleshar pointed at the map. “Only three of the wormhole gates will have our ships emerge.”

“And more...,” Siera’lara added. “We will launch 100 FC-11 cloaked nuclear torpedoes, targeting the ring.”

“Yes,” Veleshar continued. “The entire goal of the first step of the operation is to distract the Aksren clan fleet. Captain Darin will jump in from his designated coordinates. It’s advised that he jump clear from immediate fire from Aksren counterfire. From there, he will target these areas with his main guns.”

“His guns are primitive...” Bop’ita remarked looking at the schematics of the Rampage. “It would take twenty minutes for the shells to even reach Zildrek.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Darin replied. “I can pour enough onto it that it will keep them busy ... The Rampage has fight in her, nuclear shells and all.”

“The Rampage will conduct its shelling as the cloaked torpedoes will come in four vectors. However, the main portion of the strike will come in from two waves.”