Chapter 16

Preliator had a communications channel open to the Pride of the Alliance before anyone could blink twice.

"This is Commodore Preliator Acer. Report your status!" He ordered.

"Sir," Auctorita's voice said over the comm., "most of the fleet had already folded out of here when these guys showed up. It's just us and fourteen other Quevian cruisers. We are under attack by perhaps twelve Ghaleran vessels, but we have one problem; they seem to have singularity generators. One of our sister ships was already caught by a close range singularity, and ripped to shreds. If we let any of the ships targeting the Pride get off a shot, we'll be dead before you can say 'boom.' We have nothing that can repel that kind of technology."

Preliator sighed. He needed to be on the bridge of his ship- or any ship- during a time like this, and here he was in a small shuttle, having to passively observe everything. He had no more time to brood, however, as he saw a familiar metal sphere leave the torpedo tube of a Ghaleran ship, and head towards the Pride of the Alliance.

He stared in horror as time seemed to slow down. The sphere was slowly spinning towards the massive Quevian ship, all but invisible to sensors, and therefore impossible to target. He did it automatically without realizing it; he reached down deep inside of himself and drew out the energy he expected to be there. He snapped to reality in surprise when he found it, flowing through his veins, warming him as he drew it out. He had no time to wonder at exactly how he possessed Ghaleran Omni energy, but instead used what he had learned in the dream world to snap an energy field around the metal sphere. It immediately stopped all of its forward momentum, barely a kilometer from the Ghaleran cruiser that had launched it.

Preliator let a smirk overcome his facial features.

"It's a whole new ball game now boys and girls," he growled, "and guess which team has the home field advantage?"

He crushed the tiny sphere inside of his energy field, its singularity expanding outwards instantly. The Ghaleran cruiser was consumed by the weapon it had launched, without any time to react. Preliator quickly reached out and performed the same trick on three other cruisers that were attempting to fire singularity spheres. Within two minutes, half of the attacking enemy force was destroyed, and the rest were retreating. Preliator couldn't help but smile at his amazing little turn of luck. Auctorita sent them a message a few seconds after the ships had cleared off to indicate that the shuttle bay was ready for them.

The shuttle's pilot manipulated a few controls, bringing them closer to the aft section of the Pride of the Alliance. Preliator was about to ask how they were going to pass through solid hull when a section of the hull actually melted and bubbled over onto the areas that weren't being disintegrated. A massive docking bay was revealed, hundreds of small craft filling it. Some, such as the shuttles, were resting on the deck. It was the fighters that were in a slightly awkward position. They were all hung from the seventy-five meter high ceiling, upside down. It looked like it would be impossible for any pilots to board the fighters.

The pilot gently set the shuttle down on the floor of the bay, ripples spreading out from the points of impact like a stone hitting water. Preliator's mouth was hanging open at this; how could a floor, seemingly made out of solid metal, ripple? He thought over what he knew of physics, and assured himself that metal did not normally act like water. The pilot of the shuttle, who was Quevian, seemed entirely oblivious to the scene, as if it was something completely normal to him.

"Did you notice that?" Preliator asked him.

"Notice what?" The pilot responded. "That the shuttles haven't been disintegrated yet? They must all have pilots waiting in them, on standby for some reason or another. Of course, the fighters are on standby all the time, so they are always formed, but no surprise there. I'm going to head back to operations now, to retrieve my orders, sir. Just follow the thought patterns to the bridge."

Preliator restrained a gasp as he witnessed the pilot dissolving into energy, flowing out of the shuttle's open door. He then actually did gasp as the shuttle disappeared around him, being absorbed by the floor of the shuttle bay, which Preliator was currently in the process of falling on. When his rear smacked painfully against the metal he found out that it was not the liquid it had appeared to be. It certainly felt real enough, at least.

As he looked around, he began to wonder how he was supposed to exit from the room. The bulkhead had re-formed, and he could see no other doors anywhere around him. It seemed that the shuttle bay had no entrances or exits. He was about to shout out loud for help when Auctorita shimmered into existence beside him.

"Shouldn't you be on the bridge, Preliator?"

"I would be if I could figure out how to navigate through this damned ship." He answered dryly.

Auctorita looked as if she was barely managing to stifle a laugh. "Haven't you figured it out yet? The Quevian cruisers don't even come close to working on the same rules that human designs do. The majority of this ship is made of Omesia, the energy that forms the Quevian life force. This means that in most areas of the ship, and on the hull, the energy can manipulate itself at the direction of the crew to change into openings. The entire ship can't transform as such, but that's just because of the Omesian Generator; the superstructure of the ship has to stay in a particular configuration to conduct its output properly."

Preliator sighed in exasperation. "You still didn't tell me how I am supposed to get through this ship. Do I just command it to start opening holes in the wall, or what?"

This time she actually did laugh. "I thought it would have been simple to put two and two together. The majority of this ship is made of energy. You are made of energy. Here, just follow me."

Auctorita quickly reverted to her natural Quevian form, sinking into the deck of the docking bay. The floor gave off a slight ripple, just as it had when the shuttle had touched down on it.

"Here goes nothing." Preliator muttered.

He followed Auctorita's example precisely, first transforming, and then sinking into the floor. The moment he came in contact with the ship, it was as if his telepathic senses were on fire. He somehow had instant access to almost every point of the ship. Appearing somewhere would be just as easy as thinking of it... and he did. He was on the bridge, sitting in the glowing command seat before he could have blinked.

"Captain on the bridge!" Auctorita hollered as she appeared nearby.

The twelve officers on the bridge all rose in unison, placing both of their fists over their chests and bowing deeply. They quickly returned to their duty stations. Preliator managed to act as if he had not just now figured out how to get around the ship.

The bridge was -and there was no other word for it- cool. The floor and walls were matte white, but the rest of its features were not so dull. It featured a thirty inch (vertically measured) plasma viewscreen that stretched around the massive room, displaying something on every inch of its length. The ceiling was one massive monitor, gigantic reports and graphs displayed across it. Some of the crewmen floated along it in their Quevian forms, probing it with energy extensions here and there. It sort of reminded Preliator of the Freemont Street Experience in downtown Las Vegas. The rest of the crewmen were in various forms... some humanoid, some tripedal, some quadrapedal... each seemingly matched to their particular stations. The helmsman, for instance, had eight thin arms and six legs. All of the limbs were manipulating a control of some type, keeping the ship moving in a precise and controlled pattern that even the best computer could not match.