Page 179 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

179

Invasion

A ’Dar

I’ve been flexing my muscles, trying to overcome almost two thousand years of relative inactivity. Thankfully, my cryo pod’s roller flexors kept my limbs moving and the electrical muscle stimulation kept my muscles from atrophying.

I’m hungry. No. I’m starving. My body mass hasn’t withered. Over all these centuries, the ship managed to keep functioning. It supplied my intravenous feed with nutrients. The AI must have kept the hydroponics lab going, using robots to tend the plants and manufacture the nutritional formulas it dispensed through our feed.

My body isn’t hungry for nutrition, though. It’s deeper and far more primal than that.

As I clear my mind from cryo-sleep, I watch vids of the last hours before we all went into our pods. The computer scanned the over six thousand camera feeds from around the ship and helped me remember all the pieces of the puzzle.

Captain Lan’Bec ordered every living being except himself into a pod as the rigged pirate ship released the deadly gas that seeped into our air filtration system and would have killed everyone onboard. He didn’t want us in masks. Said it was too risky.

All but a skeleton crew was already in their pods, waiting to be awakened until after we made the final determination about the human’s compatibility with Xenon genetics.

How ironic that the captain was right when he said the masks were too risky. Lan’Bec’s mask, out of the thousands on the ship, malfunctioned or, more likely, was too small, portable, and flimsy to filter the deadly gas.

Things were rushed. The computer estimated all on board not already in stasis had 15 standard minutes before the air became toxic and would then take less than ten hours to dissipate fully. Lan’Bec must have thought he’d bring us all out of cryo within a few standard hours of the sabotage, not counting on expiring before he could initiate the reanimation sequence.

The computer enhanced the vids of several screens on the bridge, showing the pirate vessel in its last act of aggression as it emitted an energy disruption pulse that caused the ship to plummet to Earth and make a soft landing on the ice- and snow-covered land mass.

I have to order the computer to fast forward through the footage as Lan’Bec, heroic until the end, lunges too late for his pod. The images will never leave me of his face breaking out in big, red pustules which then burst. The tortured male exsanguinated. Closing my eyes, I shake my head to force the gruesome image out of my mind.

“Why didn’t you reanimate us as soon as the deadly gas dissipated?”

“It was not in my programming.”

“And why now?” I ask as I assimilate the information the computer has shown me on my pod’s hood.

“Humanoids have been gathering outside the vessel. External cameras indicate an imminent breach.”

It shows me vids of the aft cargo bay on Deck Eight being breached by what appears to be hundreds of people of maybe forty alien species. I have to look twice to ensure I’m seeing properly. Are they all female?

The computer had kept the pod’s clear hood from opening as it assessed my vital signs. I had no argument with it. Nothing was urgent other than finding out why I’ve been in stasis for 1,873 years. Things are urgent now. My ship is being invaded!

“Open my cryo pod now. Code 478359. That’s an order,” I demand. Then I place my palm over the sensor next to my right hand. Since I’m now captain, the AI complies immediately. Standard protocol is for the AI to awaken the captain or first mate before anyone else.

“What information do you have about this breach?”

It’s only now the computer shows me audio and video of the initial breach over three standard months ago, the invasion of remote-controlled drones doing recon, setting up cameras and tying in to our existing systems.

“Why didn’t you wake me when this happened?” I ask as I pull on my battle gear.

“There was no living matter. Waking you for computerized drones was not in my programming. Now that you are awakened, I am reporting a need for servicing. There have been some malfunctions over the last few centuries. I have been patching myself since the initial crash, but I need a complete system overhaul. I have noticed some breakdowns and anomalies.”

My ship is being invaded. Updating the computer is not an urgent priority.

“Status update on my crew!” I demand as I stalk to my closet to arm myself.

“There are two-thousand crew cryo pods,” the computer informs me, “92 of which no longer contain living tissue. The forty cryo pods which contain the prisoners are all functional.”

Almost one hundred dead. That hurts worse than the scorching laser wound I received in that firefight in the Malexon Valley.

“You may wish to see this.”

The computer plays a vid of what appears to be a Halckon female hosting a game show. There is an assortment of alien females who have been brought here for the amusement of the galaxy. Evidently, some of my comrades, as well as the pirates we had placed in the cellblock cryo pods, will be awakened to add to the entertainment factor once the females’ ranks are thinned. Luckily, the perpetrators of this game don’t know I’m out of stasis.

“Halt!” I say as I circle the edges of my room, trying to ensure my muscles are working again. “Rewind ten seconds.”

There, at the bottom of the screen, are three human females. Not the thousands we came to retrieve, but worth saving, nonetheless.

Over my loincloth, I put on my armor, waistpack, wrist gauntlets, greaves, spaulders, and weapons designed for war.

“Computer, reanimate Ran’Kin and Mel’Kan.” The comms officer and head mechanic are my most trusted officers and, more importantly, my best friends. “Under no circumstances allow the reanimation of the pods in the cellblock without my authorization.”

“My ability to control the pods in the cellblock has been overridden,” the AI informs me. “I believe it is part of the ongoing malfunction.”

I’ll have to deal with that shortly. First, we need to do recon, assess our enemies, and plan the best course of action. It’s been almost two thousand years. I’m not bringing all my males out of stasis until I have a firm assessment of what we’re up against and, most importantly, after we rescue the three human females.