| Chapter Eight |
| From Behind |
| Omicron Nebula 14:30 SET 2195 “Things are running along rather smoothly so far,” commented Commander Vaughn from his seat beside Mansel on the bridge of the Explorer. “It didn’t take a lot to convince these alternate Stealthlon members of who we really are.” Mansel nodded. “I had been thinking that myself,” he confessed. “These people are much more open minded than the people of our universe.” The Stealthlon was currently doing a quick reconnaissance scan of Earth, daring to get as close as they could without being detected by Maradine’s sensors. Meanwhile, the Explorer was hiding out in the Omicron Nebula, awaiting the Stealthlon’s return. Mansel stretched and yawned. “I haven’t slept in days,” he said. “Vaughn, take control of the bridge. Wake me up when the Stealthlon comes back.” “Aye, Captain.” Vaughn hustled out of his chair and made a dive for the center seat. “Rest well, Captain.” “I’ll try.” *** Thirty minutes later, Commander Vaughn was still sitting in Mansel’s chair, thinking of how smoothly things were going. At her console at the Science station, Lieutenant Talaj perked up. “Sir, I’m picking up something on the long range scans.” “A ship?” “Yes sir.” “Pull back as seep as you can into the nebula. Shut down everything except life support.” “Everything, sir?” “Do it, Commander.” Broadaway started the Explorer moving backwards into the nebula. Not long after, the bridge, as did the rest of the ship, went dark. Vaughn headed for a conduit leading from the bridge. It was a small knee-high door that blended in with the rest of the paneling. “I’m going to get the Captain; Broadaway, you’re in charge until we get back.” “Yes sir.” *** Moments before the Explorer shut down and began it retreat into the nebula, the Cambodian male on the Crimson Star relayed the information he had just received from his computer. “Ma’am, a ship powering down and on the move, starboard side.” “What kind of ship, Khlim?” the female commander of the vessel snapped. “Be specific.” “It’s a variation of the UNSF’s Sovereign class ships, ma’am,” the young male responded, unperturbed by Anarcha’s quick temper. “Almost like they’ve taken one and modified it.” “Interesting,” Anarcha, daughter of Maradine, mumbled to herself, reading the findings for herself. “It appears that they’ve detected us. It may be some type of new spy ship. The UNSF is getting bold. Employ the masking device. We’ll make this spy ship pay for its bravery. She laughed as the Crimson Star rushed to demolish the Explorer. *** “Don’t worry, TJ, I would’ve done the same thing,” Mansel said as they climbed out of the conduit and onto the bridge. Mansel was dressed with a fresh uniform; starched and pressed. He stood up and headed over to his chair, Commander Vaughn right on his heels. “Now we have to wait and see what this other ship does,” Mansel declared, standing behind his command chair. “We’ll give them twenty minutes, then we’ll turn the sensors back on.” Ten minutes had passed since Anarcha and the Crimson Star had spotted the Explorer. She had decided to take a careful approach, unaware of the strange Sovereign class ship’s technology. “They’ve not responded to any of our advances,” Khlim told the female terrorist who was currently slouched in her chair. “Well then,” Anarcha exclaimed, “maybe they’re not as advanced as we thought they were. Prepare to fire.” “Aye.” The Crimson Star came around and headed straight for the Explorer. Khlim had two shells loaded and ready to fire. |
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