2142- Midway between the Earth and the Moon
Life aboard the Kan’Tar was a portrait in organization and discipline. Soldiers, always armed and armored, strode confidently down the ship’s corridors in packs of six. Each Omegan carried himself as though death awaited around each corner; ramrod posture, arms at the side prepared to draw his sidearm, eyes that could bore a hole through the hull with their focus.
Yet they would rarely see action.
Promotion to the Kan’Tar was a reward for distinguished service to the fleet. Only the finest of warriors were given duties aboard the fleet’s flagship. It took years of working one’s way through the ranks: first you trained as a pilot or as infantry; then, if you were worthy and you survived long enough, you were assigned to a B-class warship; demonstrate potential there, and perhaps you were be assigned the center seat of leadership. However it went, Omegan soldiers all knew- the B-class warship was where most Omegans finished their careers and their lives.
But those that were truly special were granted special appointment to the Kan’Tar. The ship was not elegant in design, of that there could be no argument. Its size was too large. The top was smooth and flat, the component pieces of the rail gun existing down the center of the ship. Indeed, one looking at the Kan’Tar from a certain angle might suggest that taken on the whole, the vessel itself somewhat resembled a bulky rifle. However, this rifle was designed to hold and weaponize small asteroids and other debris before firing them at helpless worlds in the Omegans’ path.
That lack of elegance was more than made up for by the destructive power of the craft. In order to protect itself when it went into asteroid storms to arm itself, the external hull was five times thicker than that of a B-class. The sides and bottom were lined with a dozen laser cannons. Any ship that dared strike at the Kan’Tar soon realized its folly… just before it was blasted into atoms. Through the history of the ship, most didn’t even bother trying. Thus, the Omegans stationed aboard the ship spent days upon days training and practicing against one another. Without doing so, they would likely not see battle again in their lifetimes.
Earth, though was different. The humans had dared to assault the Kan’Tar directly during their first clash with the Omegans. In the aftermath, the Omegan Hierarchy had been forced to conclude that the humans’ strategy was a clever one- they ignored the main ship and concentrated on destroying the rail gun itself, the one part of the ship unprotected by the hull and laser cannons. The damage done, and the redesign, took decades to complete. Now, the Kan’Tar was once again on Earth’s doorstep. Waiting. Watching.
The Omegan soldier stood at passive attention before his leader, F’ath M’isti. F’ath had spent almost every waking moment of his life in pursuit of the warrior arts, proving himself to be one of the greatest soldiers his society had ever produced. During the first war against the humans, he had served on a B-class vessel as a pilot, racking up an astounding number of kills. In their second engagement with humanity, F’ath found himself in a leadership position, captaining a B-class. As that campaign wore on, it was his ship, time and again, that achieved the most victories against their foe. It was that gift which ultimately sent him to the shipyards to oversee the final pieces of the reconstruction of the Kan’Tar; a project that finished ahead of schedule thanks to him. His reward? It would be F’ath M’isti would lead the fleet back to Earth and finish the humans for good.
F’ath spoke. “No survivors?”
“No, my leader. The data remnants we have been able to recover suggest that they set the weapons system to overload and explode. The ship was in pieces when assistance finally arrived. We detected no signs of escape pods on the planet or on any of its moons.”
“May they hunt well in Erestia.” F’ath pondered his next move. “Very well. I promised retribution for resistance. When you leave here, you are to proceed to the quarters where we are holding Admiral Kelly. Tear out his spine with your bare hands. Make sure you do so on camera, that we may broadcast it to these defiant ones and show them the price to be paid for their lack of obedience.”
“It will be done, my leader.”
F’ath nodded at him. “Go now.” The soldier bowed and left the command center, leaving the Omegan leader alone with his thoughts. M’isti queued up the data on the War Angel that his technicians were able to mine from the EAD’s computer systems. He scratched his chin absently as he read, muttering to himself as he went. “I remember this ship well from my days as a pilot. She was a strong one. Her crew fought bravely and honorably.”
The screen shifted, and pictures of those now aboard the War Angel now filled his vision. “But these… I know nothing about them. Data recovery shows that this Morrison was not acting as captain and that lifescans showed one fewer person on the ship than what we were expecting. Children… children have a warship. Yet somehow they defeated one of ours. They must be dealt with.” He began reading the personnel profiles, absorbing as much as he could about who his enemies were. It was while reading one of those that he found the key to eliminating whatever minute threat that the War Angel represented. F’ath opened the Omegan internal communication systems and hailed a nearby B-class ship.
“Commander of the Chimera, speak and reply!”
The comm. system crackled to life. The voice on the other end sounded stunned to hear M’isti calling directly. “Yes, my leader. How may I serve?”
“You have a prisoner from the planet in your care. I wish him to be moved over here to the Kan’Tar. Immediately.”
“Of course, my leader. To which prisoner are you referring?”
F’ath scanned his screen, looking for the information he needed. “Prisoner 1212 from Q-system.”
The B-class captain responded immediately. “It will be done, my leader. He shall be on the Kan’Tar within an Earth hour.”
“Very well.” F’ath closed the channel and stood from his seat. He walked around the command center for a few minutes, contemplating his next move. Within a day, planetside operations would go into full effect, and within half an Earth year, this particular project would finally be completed and the Omegan people could put the tiny mudball behind them. In the meantime, nothing would be allowed to be left to chance. They had been fortunate once, and once was enough. The presence of the prisoner should drain the fight from them quickly.
And if they tried to fight? No fool, no matter how clever, would last long in battle against the Kan’Tar.
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