Zein: The Homecoming (5 page)

In total, including the support ships the Expeditionary Force numbered an impressive eighty thousand people, consisting of mainly troops, tradesmen, a variety of scientists and supporting crew. With over six billion people on Earth it was relatively easy to make the decision that if the human race was to step into the wider Universe it wanted a substantial armed capability coupled with some of their best brains across a whole range of specialties and industry sectors. A large proportion of the main crew provided the catering, cleaning and general administration required for such a large expeditionary force.

‘How long is it until we reach Zein, Boff?’ Gemma asked.

‘We have just travelled nearly thirty trillion light years in three months,’ said a disbelieving Walter shaking his head in wonder. ‘We should be very close to the Capulus Novus System and then a matter of days to Zein,’ he concluded.

‘You said during our training that the atmosphere on Zein is fine for us. How do you know for sure?’ said Tyson,
as he hugged Amelia close to him. Gemma monitored the display of affection with a pang of jealousy; she was missing Kabel. Tyson picked up the strength of feeling and a thrill went through him before guilt took over. He stopped his probing of her mind.

Behave yourself Tyson
.

Walter was running the modifier instrument over his body scanning his vital organs for any areas for concern to check that he was fully fit for duty. His mother always said he was a hypochondriac. He looked up at Tyson’s question.

‘The tests we ran on the biological differences between both races,’ he gestured to those listening, ‘confirmed that we are ninety-nine per cent similar in our DNA.’

‘That’s good isn’t it,’ said Tyson.

‘It is not as simple as that,’ replied Walter, who was now in his element as he talked to the eagerly listening group. Other scientists also joined the group, interested in his view. ‘If you take the difference between a chimpanzee and man, most biochemists feel there is only one per cent difference, and I am guessing that you don’t feel like a monkey?’ he pointed to Bailey.

‘To be fair Boff, not the best example, Bailey acts like a monkey most of the time,’ said Tyson sardonically and then moved hastily as Bailey aimed a playful punch at him.

Walter joined in the laughter and then continued, ‘In that one per cent we found major differences. Our body mass is denser which makes us stronger but our internal functions act much less efficiently then the Zeinonians.’ He saw the expectant faces and knew that he had started so had to finish his explanation. ‘There seems to be something impacting the Zeinonians’ key organs, they are very resistant to viruses and illnesses. It seems they have an internal medicine that drives away things that we as humans come to expect, like colds.’

‘Is it due to our magics?’ asked Bronstorm. Walter saw the unease spread across some of the scientists.

Why does everyone fear what is new? We really haven’t changed since we found that the Earth was round and not flat!
He shook his head in despair.

‘Yes, I think it is. You have these wonderful capabilities and they benefit you broadly, but push these capabilities too much and I worry that it has a destabilising impact on your chemical balance,’ said Walter, Bailey saw Tyson frown and swap glances with Amelia. ‘Now when we arrive at Zein, I expect that the mixture of air to favour the Zeinonians and that additional strength we humans experience will not be such a factor during any fighting.’

‘Hey, Boff, look, these beauties are always going to show up those weak aliens,’ said Bailey as he flexed both his arms, showing off his large biceps.

‘Oh my hero,’ said Kabel’s sister, Belina, jokingly, as she joined the group. Everyone again broke into laughter. Since Belina had been rescued from the Eastern Quadrant by her brother, the change in her morose attitude was remarkable. Now with freedom to travel and make friends her cheerful demeanour made her popular amongst all those that met her.

Amelia happily joined in with the merriment pleased that the group were all together again. Except Kabel. Where was he?

Kabel watched the stars go by. He marvelled at their brilliance against the black landscape, their number seeming to stretch to infinity and beyond. Was this how his grandfather had felt?

Excitement? Dazzling stars and endless space, with the anticipation of seeing a new galaxy or planet? He wished he could have been part of the Zein Expeditionary Force that found Earth. That day must have captured a truly memorable occasion with the Zeinonians desperate for a new start and a renewed hope of returning to Zein and rescuing loved ones left behind.

The piloting crew, handpicked to support the humans and Zeinonians fast asleep in their individual hyper-sleep cocoons, busily went about their everyday tasks. The crew were mainly Zeinonians but there was a strong human military presence supporting them. When the orders were sanctioned by the Joint Earth and Zein Council, trust was there but also nervousness. The humans wanted control of the military aspects of the expedition and the Zeinonians, who had retained autonomy through many conflicts and enjoyed their independence, required input into key decisions. The humans would only support the recently named Expeditionary Force of the United League of
Planets if military control was placed into their hands. Reluctantly, the Zeinonians agreed. They needed the humans to support the long journey to their homeland. The whole process left grumbling on both sides.

He smiled at the elaborate title of the expeditionary force. The title was grand, the Earthlings liked their organisations; The United League of Planets, consisting of the populated Earth, Zein, Oneerio, Skegus and five other inhabited planets in the Zein galaxy, was the title given to a vision. The vision objective was not just to free worlds but to free the Capulus Novus Sector from tyranny.

Kabel remembered the bold speech he had given at his inauguration and as he did, he couldn’t prevent his smile growing wider. He never knew he could speak like that. At the United Nations in Washington, everyone stood to applaud; he was initially shocked, but then proud when he caught his adoptive mother, Maggia, in the crowd, cheering him on. He ached to see Delilah and missed his late adopted brother Drogan. Even though he had lived with Drogan all his life, after being rescued as a baby from the Southern Quadrant of the Earth Colony, his relationship with him had been distant until, in those final weeks before the quadrant was invaded, they had grown close. Real brothers.

The loss of Drogan tugged at his emotions and he had initially looked to Tyson to replace him. But Tyson was distant, almost cold or indifferent to Kabel, and even though he knew the magics Tyson had inherited were impacting his half-blood brother, the rejection still hurt.

For company, on the first phase of the journey, he had Zebulon, the Changeling, who kept to his wolf shape nearly all the time, in an attempt not to freak out any of the ship’s crew. Kabel found his presence and insight comforting and he reflected on how far their relationship
had progressed since he had rescued the enslaved creature at the Federation Fair in the Western Quadrant. Kabel sighed, that seemed so long ago, before all this madness started. They had fought many pitched battles and hopeless situations together. The ability for this creature from Zein to change its shape into any animal it had seen proved extremely useful and had pulled the group from some pretty tough scrapes. Zebulon had wondered off to meet up with the other companions and Kabel found that he missed the creature’s reassuring company.

‘Chancellor Lord Blackstone, General Corder wants to speak with you,’ said Lieutenant Anton Morrison, jolting him from his thoughts. It still took him by surprise to be called “Lord” let alone “Chancellor”. Once the clans had come together in peace it had been unanimous that the next Chancellor would be him. He had rebuffed the initial attempt saying that it should be Lord Fathom or Lord Southgate but they wouldn’t have it. He was the Chancellor. The Blackstone clan were the principal clan by Zein Law and nothing he could say or do could change their minds.

He had surprised them immediately by, for the first time in history, appointing a non-royal as his Vice-Chancellor. It was Cronje. Everyone had been taken back, including Cronje, until his initial surprise was replaced by his pragmatic old self.

It was a smart move, Cronje had the backing of the still powerful Malacca army and by tying him into the Inner Council, Kabel had strengthened his political base by just one appointment. Though, to be honest, Kabel enjoyed the matter-of-fact advice he received from the taciturn Easterner. He had left Cronje with Remo as his captain to support Lords Southgate and Fathom as they assimilated the two cultures and environments. Kabel felt uneasy not
having this pair with him but he needed to provide much needed protection and experience to the vulnerable Zein population, shorn of their technological protections.

Kabel walked behind the muscled back of Lieutenant Morrison into the Command and Control Centre. He had rarely seen a black man and the imposing statue-like bear of a man brought out the strong, almost regal bearing of the African-American race. Lieutenant Morrison was General Corder’s right hand man and Kabel had immediately established a friendship, learning about each other’s race. Morrison pointed to the figure staring at the wall to ceiling viewing screen which showed the way ahead.

Standing in front of Kabel was another imposing man. General Prescott Corder was a soldier through and through with many years of experience mapped into the lines on the craggy face. No one was under the illusion that there was not a hard, tough core behind the amenable manner of the American. Even though Kabel towered over him, the presence General Corder exuded, dominated the room. With him was the equally tough and older Admiral Nikolai Koshkov from the Russian Federation Forces, who commanded the second largest force on the ship with the United Kingdom and China the next two largest contingents.

Admiral Koshkov was an argumentative in your-face man. This was a far cry from his command of the Black Sea Fleet and with General Corder out ranking him as military leader of the Expeditionary Force, he focused on ensuring his forces, numbering some twenty thousand soldiers from air, sea and land forces, delivered their side of the duties.

‘Lord Blackstone, glad you could join me,’ said General Corder, the welcoming smile lighting up his square jaw. ‘We have picked up a cluster of signals approaching us fast.’

‘Asteroids?’

‘Could be, travelling fast. We should know shortly when they pass in range of the afibilator,’ said General Corder, his smile now replaced with a studious look. The afibilator was an ultra-sensitive radar system that was augmented by zinithium. In fact once the Zeinonians had shared the secret of zinithium, the technology of Earth had not just leapt forward but moved into a whole new stratosphere.

This was a subject which worried Kabel. The humans liked to be the aggressor rather than the follower and that was what he saw in the meetings he attended with his fellow Elders. If the humans disagreed with a point their initial reaction was to reject the position put forward rather than talk; eventually they came around to compromise but the whole experience was destabilising the Elders’ way of politicking.

They went across to the young radar operator, Corporal Mike Batten, a soldier from the US Army, until they hovered over the four dimensional radar screens that could see some five light years away. The zinithium-powered radar was extraordinarily detailed and just as magnificent to watch.

‘What are we looking at soldier,’ commanded General Corder.

The unflappable young man did not bat an eyelid, Batten pointed to some small flecks that were on the outskirts of the second layer of the afibilator, at four light years away. ‘These are the unidentified masses,’ he said, ‘Once they pass into the second perimeter we will receive considerable more information on their size, shape and speed.’

‘What is the likelihood of them not being an asteroid belt?’ asked Kabel. He was concerned that they had started waking up those in hyper-sleep only in the last
hour. They bristled with weapons on every floor but had insufficient forces to fire them.

‘Well we have run into five asteroid belts and due to our technology were able to change course or use our deflection shields. It is likely to be another asteroid field, Sir,’ replied Corporal Batten.

Kabel was relieved. His main fear was to enter into a fight too early, harbouring doubts that they just did not know whether the joint force would work effectively together. The relief didn’t last long. The blips on the screen suddenly changed into a recognisable battle formation as they entered into the second perimeter unlike the chaos of an asteroid belt.

‘Sir, I count thirty ships,’ the young radar engineer calmly stated.
Good, some action
, thought Admiral Koshkov. He itched for a battle. He was bored with the waiting around and endless drills.

‘Sound battle stations!’ General Corder was now all business. The communications officer, a Fathom soldier, set off the noisy klaxon throughout the ship. Admiral Koshkov departed to organise the Russian forces.

On the third deck Hechkle was the first to react, picking up his cap, thrusting it onto his head and walking towards the nearest entrance. He brushed past two American soldiers who were patrolling the deck, his large shoulders unbalancing both of them. Hechkle didn’t break stride and it was the following Bronstorm who saw the dark looks the two soldiers gave the disappearing back of the tall Fathom warrior. They then turned their hostile glances towards Bronstorm, who blanked them, before walking past.

‘Follow me,’ Hechkle shouted to the group over his shoulder. The rest of the companions pushed their way through the still groggy civilians and made their way to
the main corridor looking around for what to do next when a familiar voice called out.

‘Greetings, my friends, you are all looking rested, it is amazing what three months can do for your complexion!’

Kabel
, Gemma’s heart raced and she ran to him and gave him a big hug which he returned, realising how much he had missed her these last three months. The others promptly surrounded him and once pleasantries had been exchanged he beckoned them to gather closely around him.

‘Look, we have many photon anti-ship guns on this ship but we do not have enough trained soldiers to fire them. The others are awakening from hyper-sleep but it will take too much time before they are combat ready. I need volunteers.’

‘We trained on the guns before we left, though I admit I will be a little rusty,’ said Bailey. The others nodded their heads as they all had previously volunteered to train on the weapons defence.

‘That’s what I wanted to hear. Go to the first deck and grab yourself a position – we have only a few minutes before the enemy are upon us,’ Kabel stressed, ‘I will join the aviators in the Cobras.’ He was referring to the reconditioned double manned sleek aircraft that used to protect
Elanda
all those years ago. Now in full working order, they were aptly renamed after the venomous snake, and how the neck of the plane coiled before spitting out the deadly pulses of zinithium photon torpedoes.

‘Good luck,’ said Gemma, a lump in her throat. In answer he kissed her and then ran up the corridor. Gemma swallowed hard. It had been long time since she had seen him, and for him then to go was hard.

The others made their way to the first deck, fighting through the bedlam around them. Tyson felt the tightness
of the excitement gripping him as he followed the others. He like all the others had practised on the huge anti-ship photon guns with his natural hand to eye coordination proving an instant hit, leading him to record the highest number of “kills” in the training programme; nearly twenty-five percent higher than the previous record, held by Kabel. When he had finished the exercise and the other companions were congratulating their friend, he held back on what he had experienced, the connection with the gun that transcended pure metal and ammunition. He saw Zylar in his sights and every virtual ship he transformed into the hulking presence of his nemesis. The outside world faded from his consciousness – all he wanted to do was kill.

‘Tyson, Tyson?’ He shook out of his trance and turned to look at the worried face of Amelia. Amelia had grown used to the faraway looks of her boyfriend. She knew that he thought of Evelyn often and her death had changed him – possibly forever. Sometimes it took her minutes to wrestle him away from whatever place he tucked his mind into. What she knew for certain by the look on his face, it was rarely a pleasant journey.

‘You with us now, honey?’

‘Sure I am.’ Tyson flashed an indulgent smile and entered one of the anti-ship photon gun booths. The booths were positioned strategically down the spine of the ship with a one hundred and eighty degree angle of engagement. Due to this there were many booths on the first deck and these were supplemented by numerous others on each side of each of the other decks. The
Elanda
effectively bristled with protection, but the overriding problem was there were too few trained gunners awakened from hyper-sleep to arm every one.

Tyson settled into his seat with the command hologram immediately sensing him and surrounding his head with
a series of monitors. The electronic pulses took a matter of nano seconds to align with his brainwaves, the guns fitting comfortably into his dry hands. He was ready. The guns just needed to be directed and then his mind would direct the firing. Zebulon had quietly observed the companions awake from their hyper-sleep and sensing the stirring of the magics within the young human he decided to stay with Tyson. He could easily fit in the booth in his wolf form and sat patiently beside Tyson.

‘Hi buddy, looks like I will need to wait for my breakfast,’ said Bailey, into the communication link, laughing. Tyson wasn’t listening; his mind was in a different zone waiting for someone or something he could destroy.

‘You just have a one track mind dear brother,’ Gemma retorted.

‘Well I do have other vices, don’t I, Belina,’ smirked Bailey. Belina, who was hooked up like the others to the communication network, blushed.