Star League - The Last Zomban

SL-TLZ Chapter 5 The Gathering

Jalec Oakraider is reluctant to leave the bridge. His lower back is bothering him so instead of overseeing the workload below, he continues to teach his oldest son how to fly the Scowl. His employees can handle the work of securing the drift. That is what he is paying them for. Right now he has to reprogram the bay engines to respond to the Scowl.

Donnos is coming to the bridge with an attitude that has to be dealt with. The fact that the man is still alive is a miracle. He planned everything out to the last detail and it should have worked but the man is incredibly lucky. He always was. Jal became his friend, took the man into his family, showed him the business and made him a partner. He asked nothing from the man in return. Donnos thanks him by trying to steal his wife!

Jal regrets his decision to kill Donnos. He should’ve just fired the man and been done with him but what’s done is done. He should have known it wouldn’t work. He knows Donnos is angry because he hates a coward’s approach to murder. Jal would have been better off shooting him personally because in the short time that he’s known him, Donnos is the better fighter and would have killed him instead.

Donnos is alive and on his way to the bridge to see him and that changes things entirely.  He has to explain to his son that Donnos isn’t going to kill him. It’s the way grown ups talk to each other sometimes when they are mad at each other. Still, he checks the charge on his pistol and puts it back in his pocket. When he gets here, Jal will have to do it right. There’s no turning back now.

As if for the last time, he looks around the bridge of his Scowl, proud of the way the hodgepodge of technology came together, triumphant against those who said that it can’t and won’t work together. There are computer consoles from the ships of several different species wired together and grafted to hulls and deck plates of different ages and shapes and sizes. And there are colors, many different colors from bright to dark.

Jal sits in the middle of three bucket seat removed from an automobile from his wife’s planet Earth. Like his bomber jacket, the brown leather is worn and cracked in some places. The console before him is flat and built into a bright yellow locker. From here he can fly the ship, check engine performance and navigation. To his left is the communications station, set into a round table atop of a washer drum. To his right is the sensor station, the rounded panels are flat into the wall, one for radar, one for sonar. It is set so Jal can see it from his seat.

Seven year old James sits in the third seat watching his father tweak the engine controls. He is Jal’s twin except for a head of curly hair that came from his father. Like his father, he is confident that the engines will not stall again, but he crosses his fingers anyway. There are three banks of led lights in the panel above the knobs and buttons. At the moment they are blinking red. There is a slight vibration and the lights turn yellow. The hum of the engine is felt before it is heard, a vibration known to both Oakraiders that says the engines are hot and ready.

The led lights turn green. “We have a light,” Jal announces.

"We have a light!” James whoops and shoots his arms above his head. He keeps a watch on the darker asteroids in his field of sight. He is fascinated that any light at all shines on these universal rejects. Movement in the distance catches his attention. He strains his eyes to see what he can make out of it. “Wow. That’s a cool ship.”

From around a large asteroid flies a slim ship with smooth edges, black as space meant to be hard to spot until it is upon you. Two oval windows in the upper bow are tinted yellowish green. They resemble intimidating eyes. They resemble cat eyes.

A seasoned scrapper, Jal knows every detail about every ship ever built. All blood drains from his face when he sees this one. He knows the lead ship will be followed by others in single file. These slender ships are known for their agility and swiftness to deliver death to those who cross their path. He has a hard time seeing them right now and regards his son differently; he has his mother’s abilities.

With his eyes locked forward, Jal fumbles with the comm switch. “Donnos where are you?”

“I’m in the air lock. Are you in a hurry for your beating?”

“Never mind that. The Felline are here.”

“My God - we’ve gotta get out of here,” comes a reply with a quiver of fear. “If they find out what we just picked up-“

“If they don’t know already,” Jal’s response is grim.

James studies the Felline ships as they get closer. “The Felline are at war with the Magorr, right Dad?” Jal nods. “Then those are warships. Cool.”

Cool. Jal studies his eldest son with a deep rooted chill. The boy has no idea how much real trouble they’re in. He returns to the task of keeping the engine warm. Johnny would be less questionable about this than his brother. Where is Johnny? He calls out to his wife but she doesn’t respond. He knows she is in the bay.

“There’s more ships coming in from sector 3b.” the sensor man reports. “They’re Akledian,” he adds with a glimmer of hope.

James catches his breath. He quickly looks around space outside the ship. “Which way is 3b?” He finally asks. Jal looks up from the sensor and points slightly to the right. James cranes his neck to look around at the elongated multilayered ship approaching. “Yeah! It’s the Watcher!”

****
Aboard the Akledian flagship Watcher, Jolan Oakraider looks on in concern. They had been following the Felline fleet for the past few hours after hearing a rumor that they were too meet the Magorr fleet for a showdown of major importance. The outcome of this battle will not only affect the Magorr or the Felline but the entire quadrant of space, including the worlds of the Akledians and their allies, the Tiara.

Jolan shakes his head in disgust at the thought of this bitter war. The surface of the Magorr homeworld of Ralrulk suffered a great cataclysm that nearly destroyed the entire surface of the green forest planet. Their leader Malak instantly blamed the Felline and launched a campaign that killed millions, butchering many with his own hand. He was known as “Malak the Slayer” forever after.

If not for the advice given by his mystical confidant, Jolan would have stayed home and tended to his own affairs. He is glad he listened. Not only did he find the Felline ships setting up for attack, he finds his second son’s ship directly in their sights. He hears a sudden intake of air and jumps out of his command seat to place a hand on his first born son’s shoulder sitting at the console before him. Jesta Oakraider looks back at him, just as surprised as he is.

“Get them on screen,” the elder Oakraider orders while running his fingers through his thinning curly gray hair. 

The view screen above the forward star port flares to life. Jal and James appear on screen, the former is troubled close to panic and the latter waves without a care for what could happen next. “Hi grandpa! Hi uncle Jesta!” Below his father to the right is his brother Jesta. Behind them stands the Psyen Aganon looking on with soft and creepy eyes.

“Hi James! Are you the pilot?” Jolan Oakraider says with mild surprise.

“I’m the copilot!” James rolls out a barrel laugh.

“I don’t know how you found us but thank God you’re here.” Jal says.

Aganon T’Vorlek, Jolan’s Psyen advisor, moves by his side and strokes his beard, not saying a word, staring straight ahead as if looking at the very fabric of reality itself. It looks creepy to those who do not know him.

“Is the whole family with you?” Jolan is suddenly scared by Jal’s answer. 

“What are you doing out here brother? I hope it’s something legal.” Jesta is so bitter that Jal appears stung by his bite.

Jal narrows his eyes at his older brother. Jolan feels the sudden sting of a father who cannot bring his two children back from a scarring fight between them years ago. They are being stupid and he wants to hit them both. They were so close when they were younger. Everyone called them twins when they were younger because of their strong family likeness yet they are nothing alike. Even now they look incredibly similar with the starting of a beard on both of their faces at almost the same time.

Jal ignores his brother and turns back to his father. “We just picked up a drift that may be Magorr and at this time we are having problems getting the engines up to speed. And now the Felline are here. Can you give me an escort out of here?”

“We’re still too far out to be of any use to you but we’re-“Jolan looks out the star port with frightened wide eyes.

From behind the Scowl, space shimmers; A Magorr battleship suddenly appears, hidden behind a cloaking field. It‘s shape is that of a huge leafless tree laid horizontal with many branch-like appendages known to be photon cannons with a full range of movements. From the large photon cannon mounted in the narrow tip of the tree to the wider, twisted root section behind that is the engine section, the ship’s skin is made of the smooth bark like material.

All gun appendages extend toward the approaching Felline fleet, now spreading out from their single file formation and pours deadly energy into them. The entire Magorr fleet appears and opens up with all their cannons. The Felline shoot back.

****
Donnos’s anger drains away and his knees turn to rubber. He fights the urge to panic; the air lock is not cycling fast enough and he feels trapped. With nothing else to do but wait, he turns back to the bay. From this view point, he watches the deck crew working frantically to get the Scowl under way. The main concern is getting the bay door closed. Deke personally field repairs the damaged door strut while his nephew Kit replaces blown fuses in the electrical panel splattered by free floating hydraulic fluid. Everything looks normal. This crew works every day with unknown variables that could kill them so today is no different.

A bright purplish light passes under the bay door in a fraction of a second. Donnos knows a photon blast when he sees one. “Are they shooting at us? What the hell’s going on out there?”

Jal is frantic. “The Magorr appeared behind us and they’re shooting at the Felline.”

Suddenly, a young deck hand disappears out of the open bay door, his body language saying that he was plucked from behind. Donnos straightens his neck; a split second of confusion gives way to fear. “Jal! The Magorr are in the bay!” With rapid eye movements, he scans the entire bay for anything out of the ordinary.

Jal gasps loud and deep in his ear. “How many are there?”

“I don’t know. They haven’t shown themselves yet.” A moment later he adds, “Vicky’s out there.” Jal’s silence hangs with his.