CassaStorm (15 page)

“Officer Mevine, tell me more about this transmission,” said Byron, leaning forward on his desk.

“Sir, we tried to intercept a message sent from the alien vessel to the ship on Torbeth, but it was faint and out of range. However, our ship on Tgren and the one on Cassa just received a message from the Torbeth’s alien craft. We believe it involves all ten ancient ships.”

“All ten vessels?”

“Yes sir,” Mevine said, the view behind the science officer passing in a blur. “I’m up here at the ship. A single transmission came in, followed by nine going out. There was a pause and then another lone transmission.”

“And the origin of the single transmission?”

Mevine spun around. “The Torbeth’s ship. We’re already working on translations,” he said, the background changing yet again.

Byron rubbed his forehead. “Officer Mevine, can you hold still for a moment?” he said, distracted by the movement.

“Sir! My apologies.”

Mevine adjusted his computer and the whirlwind of scenery ceased. Gathering his thoughts, Byron touched the corner of his tablet. “What about the first transmission?”

His science officer leaned out of the frame a moment. “The ship’s com detected a single transmission.” Mevine reappeared. “It was just a trace though and we weren’t able to capture it.”

To Byron’s dismay, another scientist approached Mevine and his senior officer leaned away again. Growing impatient, he sent a private thought.

Mevine, hold still before I order someone to strap you to a chair!

The scientist’s face loomed large, his wide eyes occupying a generous portion of the screen.
Sir, I’m sorry,
he thought.

“Any idea as to the source of that transmission?” said Byron, resisting the urge to pull back from the giant face on his computer.

“Sir, we think it came from the probe. Due to the vast distance, we can’t accurately triangulate the source. But, if we were closer to the probe…”

“If we were closer, we’d be on the Torbeth’s home world, Mevine. And I doubt we’d want to be there. The last message from the Nacinta indicated the alien ship has taken up orbit around the Torbeth’s planet.”

Mouth slightly ajar, Mevine tilted his head away from the screen. The muscles in the scientist’s neck twitched, as did his jaw. After years of working with the man, Byron knew that expression. It did not bode well for the Torbeth.

“Translate those transmissions, Mevine,” he said, setting his right fist on the desk in front of him. “Find us answers.”

“Yes, sir.”

The screen went black. On cue, another message arrived. The report from Officer Mard was expected and Byron pulled up the information. He glanced once over his shoulder. Bassan appeared engrossed with his tablet. He still held the cold pack to his nose and right cheek, his shoulders hunched as he stared at his computer screen.

Good, Byron thought, turning his attention to the report.

Fifteen minutes later, an urgent message arrived from the Nacinta. His stomach muscles growing tighter, Byron answered. Ganter’s face appeared on his screen, the lines in his skin tight and pronounced.

“Commander, we were just notified of a communication from a Cassan scout ship patrolling the outer sectors of Torbeth space,” he said, his words slow and deliberate.

Grasping his armrests, Byron’s body tensed. “The probe launched an attack?” he said with grim certainty.

Ganter nodded. “The alien ship sent thousands of drones to the surface. Torbeth defenses eliminated over half of them, but there were just too many. The drones impacted the surface and burrowed toward the planet’s core. Our scout ship reported the temperature on the planet rose within minutes. As a result, storms formed over most of the planet, growing stronger as the temperature rose. The planet is dying from the inside out.”

Byron lowered his head. He’d often wondered the outcome of the alien vessel’s first appearance had it not found the proper level of development in the Tgren’s minds. The true destructive power of the drone was more frightening than he’d imagined. Running from a storm of that magnitude would be impossible. There was no way to evacuate the planet before Tgren was reduced to dust.

“Did anyone make it off the surface?” he said. They might be enemies, but the prospect of the extinction of an entire race was unthinkable.

“Several Torbeth battleships were in orbit at the time, launching an attack on the probe. The instability of the ecosystem made escape virtually impossible, but the scout ship noted several ships departing before the drones struck.”

“High Command knows?”

“They received the information the same time we obtained it.”

“Commander, did the scout ship record any transmissions from the alien ship?”

“I can find out.”

Byron leaned forward and snatched his computer tablet from the desk. “The ten alien ships communicated with one another not long after a faint lone signal was detected. If we could analyze that transmission, we might begin to piece together what the probe seeks. I’d like all of the information regarding what’s happening on the Torbeth’s home world as well,” he said, rubbing his right temple. They couldn’t evacuate even a tenth of the population of Tgren. “We need to start making preparations.”

Ganter cocked his head. “Preparations?”

Tapping his tablet, Byron pulled up the most recent information. “Yes, Commander,” he said. “Because according to our calculations, the alien vessel will travel to two other planets before it reaches Tgren. We’ll have barely a week to prepare.”

The Nacinta’s commander inhaled sharply. “Which planet is next?”

Byron rose to his feet and grasped the edge of his desk. “Arell. The Arellen’s home planet is next.”

Judging from Ganter’s expression, the thought of losing their longtime allies sickened him as well. The Arellens had only a few days in which to prepare for an extinction level event. The man nodded and leaned forward.

“I’ll get the information for you, Commander.”

The screen went black. Byron dropped his chin to his chest. A thousand emotions tore at his heart. Hundreds of thousands of innocent women and children would likely die today. And unless they could find a way to stop it, that force would reach Tgren in a week. Eventually it would reach Cassa. Plans were likely underway to evacuate the Cassan population to her sister planet, Harenna. But the Tgrens had no place to go. Even worse, they possessed no ships on which to escape.

His eyes closed, Byron’s other senses grew in awareness. The sound of rapid breathing reached his ears. He’d locked his shields in place when the Nacinta contacted him, afraid Athee would pick up on his distress. Now he let them drop just enough for an underlying current of fear to register. Recalling he wasn’t alone, Byron opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder. Bassan stared at him, his mouth open. The items in the boy’s hands threatened to slide from his grasp.

“Are we going to die?” his son whispered.

Byron’s computer uttered an urgent beep. The information he’d requested from the Nacinta appeared. Reaching for his keypad, Byron pulled up the first message. Adding a notation to each piece of information, he forwarded it to the proper department with a mark of urgency. His men needed to work on a solution night and day if they were to survive.

Straightening his back, Byron glanced at his son. Bassan had not moved from his seat, but his spine now curled forward. The cold pack was on the floor and his hold on the tablet tenacious at best. It was the thoughts of utter despair that projected his son’s fear strongest. Bassan’s young mind just couldn’t handle any more pressure. After the past week’s events, he’d exceeded his limits.

You didn’t need to hear this, Byron thought.

Approaching his son, Byron crouched in front of Bassan. He removed the tablet from the boy’s hands and set it on the floor. Bassan lifted his chin just enough to meet his father’s gaze. The haunted look in his eyes tugged at Byron’s heart. That same darkness had greeted Byron’s gaze in a mirror at one point. He’d spent most of his childhood trapped in a facility for troubled children. With his parents dead, he’d no one on which to rely. Byron was determined his son would never experience a similar loss.

Wrapping his arms around Bassan, he pulled him to his chest
. I promise, we won’t die
, he thought, infusing his mental touch with conviction. Evacuation of his family provided some comfort, but not when compared to the lives of the remaining Tgrens at stake. Byron kept that thought hidden from his son though.

Bassan returned his father’s embrace. The relief in his thoughts extended beyond the knowledge they would survive. His son’s reaction in the medical facility returned to Byron’s thoughts. He’d instilled the need for respect and honor in Bassan, demanding proper behavior from his one and only child. Had he pushed his son too hard? Did Bassan dread retribution so much that he feared his own father?

I will do everything within my power to keep you and your mother safe,
he thought, stroking Bassan’s hair.
Don’t be afraid.

The chirp of an urgent message interrupted the silence. Byron suspected it would be the first of many this afternoon. Giving his son a final squeeze, he released Bassan and returned the boy’s tablet and cold pack to his hands. Patting his son’s head, Byron’s attention shifted to numerous tasks awaiting him.

I doubt either of us will sleep tonight, he thought.

Athee roused from a dreamless sleep. The sound of running water drifted through the room. Focusing on the noise, she reached out with her mind and discovered her mate in the bathroom. Byron’s thoughts were heavy as he prepared for sleep. Rolling on her side, she waited for him to join her in bed.

The gentle swoosh of a door sliding alerted her. Opening her eyes, Athee watched the dark form sink onto the bed and stretch out beside her. Edging closer, she placed a hand on his chest.

You’re awake?
Byron thought, his hand covering hers.

I heard you come in
, she thought. Athee pressed her check against his arm.
Any news?

The Torbeth’s home world is uninhabitable right now due to the severity of the storms. The few survivors who escaped the surface fled to a military outpost on their orbiting moon. The alien ship left the moon untouched.

So only the home world is a target?

It appears so. The alien ship is on the move again and on course for Arell. The Arellens are scrambling to evacuate some of the population to their satellite and moon bases. Many will seek shelter in the fortified underground facilities scattered across Arell.

Will they even survive?

Byron’s head rolled so that his cheek rested atop her head
. I don’t know.

He sighed and the sound echoed deep in his chest.
The Narcon blame us for the attack, claiming we control the probe.

Indignation flashed in Athee’s mind.
What?
That ship nearly wiped out Tgren twenty years ago!

Our allies are trying to reason with them. And establish contact with the Torbeth. But with so few escaping the disaster, their government is in chaos right now. The immediate danger lies in a possible retaliation from the other races. With Narcon and Vindicarn forces residing at the edge of our solar system, we are on full alert.

Athee’s fingers pressed down on his chest. All of the races were in danger. Didn’t they realize that?

What can we do?
she thought, fighting her anger for Byron’s sake. He’d faced enough battles today.

Scientists on the allied planets are working nonstop to analyze the transmissions. We’ve shared every bit of information in our database regarding the alien ship here on Tgren and the probe. With so many working on the problem, we’ll find an answer.

Byron’s tone reflected confidence, but Athee knew better. Interlocked with his mind, she saw the shadows of doubt. They’d gotten lucky last time. What if Mevine and the others didn’t find a solution?

He patted her hand.
How is Bassan?

It was a ploy to change the subject, but Athee jumped at the opportunity.
Hopefully he sleeps the rest of the night,
she thought.

More nightmares?

Yes,
she thought. Her son’s terrified screams still resonated in her ears.
It was late by the time I got him home and to bed. He slept maybe two hours before it hit. By the time I reached him, he was curled up on the floor and crying. I didn’t think I’d ever get him to go back to sleep.

Damn, sorry I didn’t get home sooner,
Byron thought.

Athee curled tighter against her mate
. I’m really worried about him.

The doctor didn’t find anything wrong with him physically. I would’ve asked for more extensive tests, but I was awaiting word on the alien ship.

I’ll take him in tomorrow,
Athee thought. Her time would be limited, but she’d find a way.

If you can’t, it might just have to wait. The last thing I did before coming home was issue preparations for evacuation.

Athee lifted her head, distraught by the news. Her son needed help, but if Byron had ordered for evacuation preparations…

Athee,
he thought mid-yawn.
I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with anything else tonight. I’ve got to get some sleep.

Frustrated, she rested her head against his arm again. Byron’s fingers stroked hers and she drew comfort from the sensation. His hand ceased to move and his thoughts slipped into the void. Athee followed his lead and focused on nothing until the past week’s events no longer consumed her.

Scooping up a mixture of the warm, grainy cereal, Athee shoved it into her mouth. She scrolled through her messages, most of which originated from prefects. So many questions. This early in the morning, she had no answers.

Glancing up from her computer, Athee confirmed her son was eating. She’d tried to engage him in conversation, but Bassan just wasn’t up to talking. The last thing she wanted to do was pry into her son’s mind, but his continued silence worried her.