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Homeworld Return - blackjack
:: 05/05/01 ::
Chapter 6
Hjihad looked up from a video stream displayed on his terminal screen, which had been contained in the data pack transmitted in the Cree-Pak's death throes, at the low chime. Distracted, he did not understand at first what the sound was, but as it sounded again over the noise of the Sora-Hiik's recorded destruction he realized that that was the entry chime. He stopped the recording, staring at the eerie picture of the massive "Carrier-Cruiser" sweeping down on the Third Fleet, but wrenched himself away from the ghostly image as the chime sounded again.
"Yes?" he barked, and an orderly almost instantly popped in. He sized up the man - the junior officer with ruffled hair and a mussed duty uniform appeared nervous about something. "What is it?"
The young ensign stammered as he took a step toward Hjihad's desk and set a small hard transfer disk down on the Somtaaw Fleet Commander's desk from what he judged to be the maximum range possible. "B-bad news, sir. We, uh, we received this from our Aceti outpost less than five minutes ago, addressed to you personally. Then we
we lost contact, sir." The young man rushed the last sentence, obviously trying to avoid whatever wrath might be directed at him from Hjihad.
Hjihad intentionally kept his face impassive and did not touch the disk. "Thank you, ensign. Dismissed." The orderly quickly shuffled backwards, threw a sloppy salute, and rushed out the open door, closing it behind him.
Hjihad picked up the disk, unaware that his hands were trembling, and popped it into the hungry port on his computer terminal. Immediately, the video playback screen activated, with several small controls at the bottom of the interface. He reached out a cautionary finger and tapped the play key.
The static-riddled image sprang to life. It was an unstable, slightly scrambled frame of the commander of the fleet adjoined to the Aceti outpost, his back turned to the camera angle as he yelled out an order that Hjihad couldn't understand and received a confirmation from an officer offscreen. Then he turned back toward Hjihad's perspective. Hjihad recognized the face - this very man had served aboard the Kuun-Lan before the defeat of the Beast, and had been granted control of the Aceti fleet by Hjihad personally for his service as the commander of a Deacon in the battle against the Nomad Moon. The man - Hjihad struggled to remember his name - paused, apparently checking to make sure that the visual system was recording, and then spoke in rushed, clipped tones.
"Commander, we have a grave situation out here. We've been set upon by a large fleet of unknown race and configuration. We've identified several classes of fighters and frigate-sized vessels of various types - some appear to be support craft, some combat ships, but all of them are ripping my fleet apart." Hjihad paused a second and admired the reserve of this man, who even in the thick of battle was able to keep calm. It was not a common quality in the Somtaaw fleets - most Somtaaw were miners after all, not warriors. He turned his attention back to the commander onscreen as he continued. "I am transmitting statistics and images of all of these classes to you in this data pack, as well as information on the weapon systems that they appear to be using. I do not doubt that you'll need them."
The man leaned in closer before he continued. "Commander, I don't think that any of us will make it out of here alive. The crews of these ships are vicious - they've taken out all of my non-combat ships ruthlessly and are shredding my combat forces even as we speak. I am attempting to evacuate the rest of my people, but I have doubts as to if any of the transports will make it out in one piece. These people will not rest until every one of us is dead.
"Warn the rest of the fleet, Commander. I doubt that they'll stop here. The rest of the Hiigaran forces must be prepared for further engagements." A burst of static erased the commander's next words, but it ended in a split second. "-Sajuuk save us all, sir. Commander Sadric of the Aceti Defense Fleet signing off. Standby for data transmission
" There the video ended in a long bank of static, but Hjihad continued to watch as impassively as he could while several sets of statistics, wireframe models, and action snapshots flashed across the screen in rapid succession.
He flipped off his terminal and turned once again to stare out the window. He closed his eyes, and silently prayed to be rescued from his nightmare. Then, when he did not wake up, he calmly reactivated his console and tapped out a text message to be relayed to every Somtaaw and Hiigaran ship.
It read simply: Prepare for war.
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