Phantom Regency

Why do you war and fight?

Is it for that which you think is yours?

But what if all things are yours?

Have I not given you the Galaxy?

Do I not promise you peace and freedom?

Do not use my gifts for hatred and warfare.

The future is yours.

Do not return to the past.

Seek the way of the Sky.

Seek your true home.

Trust in me and I will lead you.

From “The Sayings of the Sky Man”

Captain-Supervisor Talon Vasloch scanned the tactical readout and frowned. Seven pirate vessels were leaving orbit of mining planet S12 and coming for a fight. All but one were converted freighters. It was very common for pirates to commandeer helpless freighters and then pack them with weapons. The other vessel was unidentified. Was it possible this pirate group was constructing its own ships? The pirates were obviously emboldened by their new ship and their numbers. What they didn’t know was that they were tangling with the SERPENT Authority’s newest flagship, the Dominator. Flanked by two escort destroyers, Captain Vasloch was confident of victory.

The Dominator was the first in its class, the largest ship the Authority had ever produced. It had an angular boat-like hull with sloping armor. On top were levels of weapons decks and of course, the two phantom cylinders in back. He looked down from the raised command deck situated at the back of the bridge. A dozen of the most highly skilled officers in the SERPENT Armada manned various consoles.

“Bring us to attack speed. Train forward phantom batteries on Bogie 6. Use 70% firepower, followed with a full missile barrage,” he ordered. He reached down and sent codes to sync his weapons commands to the two escort destroyers.

“That’s going to drop our phantom field too much. Do you really want to leave our pants down, captain?” responded his first mate, Commander-Manager Ennika Torkul.

“I know, commander, but I have a hunch. That lead vessel is their confidence. If we take it out, they are done for. Besides, I’m banking on them not having too many phantom weapons,” replied Captain Vasloch.

“We’re in range, captain,” said the weapons chief.

“Fire!”

Yellowish green pulses of energy launched from the three vessels and hurtled toward the pirate. Missiles streaked through the sky as if in pursuit of the deadly energy bursts. The phantom pulses reached the custom pirate vessel and splashed against its green glowing phantom field. The phantom field flickered and went out. Moments later, explosions ripped through the ship as the missiles reached their target. When the cloud of flaming gas cleared, the ship was gone.

The Dominator shook as return fire hit its phantom field. It was too weak and sporadic to get through. Captain Vasloch breathed a sigh of relief that his gamble had paid off.

“Phantom field back to 100%. We’ll hit them with a broadside going by. Load the Vasloch cannons,” he ordered. It still felt funny that their new secret weapon had his name. Actually, it was his uncle that had developed the new version of magnetic induction cannon. Normal cannons used magnetic energy to launch a ball of dense metal. The Vasloch cannons launched spinning, drill-shaped masses of metal. They were designed to easily penetrate armor plating.

“Now, it gets messy,” he muttered to no one in particular.

“Approaching cannon range, captain,” said the tactical officer.

“Begin evasive maneuvers.” Captain Vasloch knew the pirate ships would be bristling with magnetic induction cannons or old-style nova powered cannons. Phantom fields absorbed all forms of energy but did nothing to ward off the metal projectiles.

“Incoming!” yelled the tactical officer.

The next few moments were tense as the ship swayed, weaving to present a moving target. Defensive phantom blasters fired a cloud of green energy pulses. Many of the incoming shots melted into nothingness as they were hit. As they neared the pirates, a few cannons found their mark. Loud crashes reverberated through the ship as its armor was pounded. They continued through the hail of enemy fire until they were almost on top of the pirates.

“Slow to flank speed. Dive 30 degrees. Roll 90 degrees port. Prepare starboard broadside. We’ll hit them in the belly,” ordered the captain. The three ships dove beneath their targets in unison and turned their right sides up. Their flanks were lined with dozens of Vasloch cannons.

“Fire cannons!”

The Vasloch cannons fired noiselessly. Their powerful magnetic fields sent drill shaped masses of dense metal spinning out into the sky. A storm of deadly projectiles passed through the enemy phantom fields and tore into their armor. Two of the pirates burst into flames as critical systems were ripped to shreds. Most of the weapons pods mounted below the remaining freighters were destroyed.

The remaining four ships broke ranks and began running. Captain Vasloch brought his ships around for another attack. Another pirate was targeted with phantom blasters and missiles. As it burst into a cloud of flaming debris, the other three ships signaled surrender and began to power down.

“Prepare boarding parties. Nerve sticks only. I want them alive,” was the order.

“Bogie 2 is dropping its phantom field and powering up its engines,” reported the tactical officer.

“Hold your fire,” said the captain.

“Why don’t we light them up, captain?” demanded the first officer. She knew full well that any phantom ship must drop its phantom field for several seconds before making a shift to escape to the phantom sky. It would be a simple matter to blow it up before it could get away.

“No. Let them escape and tell their story. The fear of the Dominator will be spread throughout their ranks,” he responded and scowled.

Ennika Torkul was a former destroyer captain. She was made first officer of the new flagship because of her vast experience. She evidently was accustomed to being in charge and did not yet trust her young captain. She was closer to fifty than forty with short gray hair and cold blue eyes. She was as tall as most men and had a domineering presence. He had heard of her exploits in the Rexnar war and had long respected her as a tactician. However, since working closely with her, he became increasingly disturbed by her thirst for victory. She was a warrior and had no higher motivation than the thrill of battle. He would have to manage her carefully.

“Take charge of the boarding operation,” he told her, rising from the captain’s chair. “I want those vessels under our command by 1900 hours.”

“I’ll have them at 1800,” she said with a smile, slipping into his chair as he descended from the command deck.

Hours later as the boarding parties were bringing back the prisoners; Talon Vasloch reclined in his private office. His compact frame leaned back in his chair, his feet resting on the corner of the desk. He was shorter than average but had broad shoulders. From his youth, he had lifted weights and had been a star athlete. He was well satisfied that he presented a powerful figure despite his short stature. Many women had thrown themselves at him, but he had scant interest in relationships.

His obsession was his command. He was stern, but fair with his crew. He expected a tightly run ship with no exploitable weaknesses. He took great pride in having the most successful command in the galaxy.

“Captain’s journal, 1820 hours, Skydate 538.63 GE,” he spoke into his console. “The battle with the pirates was a success. We have taken two ships captive and will fly them back to the Lair immediately. The Vasloch cannons proved very effective as anticipated. Holos of the attack have been captured for analysis as ordered. There was superficial damage to the Dominator and to the Prowler. The Poniard took a direct hit to the starboard weapons bay and lost 3 crewmen. I will shuttle over for the memorial before we shift. No vital systems were damaged but several Vasloch cannons were destroyed.

“The lead pirate ship looked to be a custom job. The long-range holos are inconclusive but further investigation and interrogation of the prisoners is in order. In hindsight, I should have tried to capture that ship.

“It is also disturbing that this was the largest pirate fleet we’ve seen since Rexnar’s Raiders were destroyed. Two or three ships would have been enough to drive off the picket destroyer and make off with the ore, yet there were seven. I know of no single group left capable of such an attack. Perhaps we will find that they are banding together.

“Another point of interest is that they appeared to be waiting for a fight. We were on scene 20 hours after they arrived. They could have easily finished and left by then. I think they may have been deliberately trying to engage our new flagship to gather data – but for whom?

“On a personal note, I am increasingly satisfied to be doing meaningful work. Protecting the interests of the Authority and securing the growth of the galaxy beats the trivial police work I used to do.

“Pause,” he said into the console. He rehashed again why he had transferred from the Regency Skyforce to work for the SERPENT Authority here on the edge of the galaxy. Was it only because he was recruited? It felt good to be wanted. His record in battle was spotless, having never lost a single ship under his command. But more than that, it was his disillusionment with the Regency in general. Since Maxxus Vlademor usurped the Regency from the Thaxian line, the galaxy had prospered like never before. But that was almost two hundred years ago. Of late it seemed that the Regency was all too willing to be passive and let the Dominions rule their own affairs. So many small-time rulers now had their own fleets and flaunted their power. More and more ships were being lost to pirates or worse. In the old days when only the STARegency had phantom ships… that was when the galaxy had order and peace.

Talon caught a glimpse of his trophy case out of the corner of his eye. It was his only indulgence in an otherwise unadorned office. On the center of the top shelf was his championship trophy from the Galactic Warball Tournament where he had excelled as a middle defender. Next to it was his Cluster of Achievement presented personally by the Sky Marshall for being commissioned as the youngest captain ever in the Regency’s Skyforce. The rest of the shelves were filled with many medals of valor for his victories as a captain along with all his old rank badges. All these stirred up in his heart an old desire to make something of his life.

He had been small as a child with indifferent, almost neglectful parents. He learned early on that he would have to fight and strive to make it in life. It gave him a heart for the weak and a desire to be a protector. This fueled his growing discontent with his first command. Instead of leading and protecting the galaxy, Skyforce did little more than carry the mail and settle petty border disputes. He fought a few pirates but most of them operated out in Ostia Dominion, far away from his patrol route.

He first turned his eye to the SERPENT Authority when he learned of the growing boldness of ore raiders. Authority territory is full of mineral rich, but uninhabitable planets. The Authority had been commissioned by the STARegency in 280 GE to mine these worlds and it was the provider of the raw material for rapid galactic expansion. Talon saw this as an opportunity to fight for the peace and prosperity of the galaxy. So, after 2 years as a Regency cruiser captain, he transferred to the Authority. Here he found order and law. It was a well-run machine that controlled two arms of the galaxy out beyond Evantha Dominion. He served the interests of the Authority with zeal. It was an honor that he now commanded the most advanced capital ship in the galaxy.

“Captain Vasloch.” His yeoman appeared on the holo-phone. “Your skypod is ready. The memorial on the Poniard is in one hour.”

“I’ll be right there,” he replied, shutting off his journal recorder. He rose and strode briskly out of his office and nearly ran over the ship’s physician, who was awaiting him. His name was Doctor Garric Ornivus, although few knew his real name. The imposing old man was known to captain and crew respectfully as “Doc”.

“Excuse me, young captain.”

“Sorry Doc, I’m kind of in a hurry,” the captain replied, still a little unnerved by the doctor’s formidable personality. He was a refined gentleman who always commanded any situation he was in.

“I am in a hurry as well. I will be accompanying you to the Poniard to give a second opinion on a burn victim,” Doc replied as they began walking side by side down the ship’s main corridor. Crewmen parted to either side as they passed and saluted. The doctor continued, “He was manning a cannon and the interface exploded. Burning insulation gel was sprayed all over him.”

“Will he make it?” inquired Captain Vasloch.

“That is what I intend to find out.”

They turned down a side corridor and through an airlock into a skypod. The captain bypassed the six passenger seats and entered the pilot’s cockpit. A ship’s captain would normally defer to a regular shuttle pilot, but he preferred to keep his own piloting skills sharp by flying himself. Besides, he enjoyed actually being on the controls for a change.

Doc slipped into the co-pilot’s seat and deadpanned, “I could no more fly this thing than you could do a heart transplant.”

Talon laughed out loud far more heartily than was warranted. He realized how tense he was.

Doc picked up on it too. “It would appear that you are wound pretty tight.”

As he pulled the small craft out of its berth he shrugged. “I don’t know Doc; I was just reminiscing before I ran you over. Trying to figure out why I do what I do.”

“Well, I can offer no help with that; I heal the body, not the soul.” He paused, and then continued in a gentler tone. “But I have lived many years and served many captains. It occurs to me that something deep in your heart has not seen the light of day for far too long. You hide it beneath all your victories and medals, but it is there nonetheless. There is a deep sense of dissatisfaction, even frustration, but you lack the conviction to expose it to the light of day.”

Talon was taken aback by the doctor’s forwardness. “I… I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What I am inferring is that the galaxy is eroding and everyone has their own idea as to the remedy. You have a strong sense of justice. It weighs on you that the strong prey upon the weak. I believe you want to fix it, but you know that you cannot. So instead you fix your small part of it with such fierceness that seven pirates were just utterly defeated in less than six minutes.”

The captain paused for a moment, correcting the course of the pod as he thought. With a little trepidation, he asked, “Do you think the Regency is beyond hope?”

The doctor stroked his well-manicured gray goatee. “All I know is this. People get greedy if they get too comfortable. I realize that the religious Thaxians said such things, but I have been all over this galaxy and every time I observe someone with too much power and pleasure they lose all reason. Ever since galactic expansion slowed a couple hundred years ago, society has stagnated.” He lowered his voice. “It even happens here in the Authority.”

“I disagree,” replied the captain. “The Authority is all about exploring and providing. I don’t see how complacency can be an issue here.”

“It is not my intention to argue. When you meet some of the directors and executives you can judge for yourself. With your current rate of success, it will not take long for them to call you higher.”

Talon hoped the Doc was wrong about that. He slipped the skypod into a berth on the Poniard. “Well, we’re here.”

“Let us undertake our respective joyful tasks,” Doc replied with a wry smile, turning and striding out of the ship. Talon stood at the door of the pod for a moment, lost in thought. Could the galaxy be saved? He shook off the thought, uncomfortable with the weight of it. He frowned and strode off into the corridor.