Chapter 44

Excerpt from Alexander Harlow's Personal Journal. Year 4, Day 194, HIMS Lacerate, E29

Well that was terribly embarrassing. I never thought I'd top being dacked during a school assembly back in grade four, but throwing up on the President of the United States clearly tops it.

LVIOS claimed that forty eight hours was a long enough break between a massive transit and normal operations... I guess I should have thought about the literal nature of computers. After all I didn't sustain any permanent injuries to anything but my pride.

President Row asked for a meeting with me, and since I wasn't doing anything other than worrying about my recent encounters with eldritch abominations I obliged. I'm not sure what she wanted to talk about really. Possibly the millions of dead people and tens of trillions in damages the world over.

The Kromaggs really made a mess of some parts of the world, but left others oddly untouched. Thankfully they only really hit a handful of major cities, so it could have been much worse. Oh the joy of fighting people who want the infrastructure intact.

Anyway I dug out a serviceable outfit, I'd been living in my armour for long enough, from captain's quarters that fit well enough and transited down. It was fine at first, just like any other transit, but once I fully materialised it was like someone had smashed me in the head with a two-by-four. I didn't aim, I swear I didn't, but somehow I projectile vomited right on President Row, hit her right in the chest, before curling up on the ground in pain.

I'll give the Secret Service props for not shooting me, and getting a medical team into me pretty damn quick. Not that there was much they could do, it's simply a matter of time. Unfortunately they got some good scans of me and took a few blood samples before I came back to myself. I'll need to do something about that. I doubt they'll be able to do much with it in the short term, but I've played around with my biology a fair bit and they might get ideas.

Mark sent one of the Lacerate's shuttles down to collect me once they contacted me and now Tommo has me confined to the infirmary. It sucks, but hey, the ship's database has a lot of entertainment vids. Some of it is pretty weird, and a bunch is pure pro-empire propaganda, but there are some gems I've found.

Including a sitcom about a family of Wookies! It's hilarious.

Year 4, Day 194, HIMS Lacerate, High Orbit, Earth 29 Universe

Mark Clayworth whistled softly as he wandered the halls of the Lacerate, he'd been on a lot of ships in his life, everything from tiny cutters to massive aircraft carriers, but the former Imperial starship was something else entirely. It wasn't spacious by any stretch of the imagination, but compared to his former billets it seemed like it. Having enough room to walk down a corridor two abreast was wonderful; not needing to duck at each bulkhead was downright luxurious.

It was times like then that despite all the problems that came with the job he didn't regret signing up with Alexander Harlow on his mad quest. Seeing space first hand, fighting in wars he could believe in, helping to build a nation that he could proud of, to him it was paradise. That being said the fringe benefits didn't hurt either, he was getting on in years, his sixtieth birthday was coming up, but he felt better than he did at forty. No more aches and pains every morning, no more tingles every time he moved his arm, the medical technology they were bringing online on Terra Prime was a marvel. And if Alexander could pull of his grand plan, Clayworth might live to see a hell of alot more. So long as he didn't get his head blown off pulling some insane stunt that Alexander cooked up on the fly.

Mark nodded to the guards standing just outside the secondary cargo bay where they were keeping the Lacerate's original crew and strode inside. He honestly felt bad about taking their ship, oh he'd seen the films and knew the empire was a terrible force in it's home galaxy, but what they did was piracy and as a man of the sea he had an instinctive hatred of pirates. He felt bad for them, sitting in a cargo bay while an unknown force run around with their ship, he couldn't think of much worse for a ship's crew, no matter where it sailed, on the waves or in space.

Still as miserable as they must have been feeling Clayworth thought they could have it a lot worse. He'd seen to it they had proper bedding, access to bathing facilities in small groups, and the same food they'd been eating before their ship had been taken. So far there hadn't been any major incidents, he'd trained his people well, they hadn't taken advantage of their prisoners, nor allowed themselves to be duped.

Clayworth felt a little bad about mandating the Imperial crew be stripped down to their underwear, but given it was an all male crew that didn't pose any major issues beyond the implied humiliation. Not that that was the reason for the order, no that was pure practicality. It was harder to secret weapons on your person when you were wearing next to nothing.

Between that and the twenty guards in full armour with stun weapons stationed inside the bay at any given time it was hard to see how they'd make a break for it, even if they weren't in a different universe.

"Listen up" Clayworth bellowed into the cargo bay, causing most of the Imperial crew to look in his direction. "My name is Colour Sergeant Mark Clayworth and I've got an offer for you"

***

"That many?" Alexander asked, propping himself up in the infirmary bed as he grinned at Clayworth.

Clayworth frowned, saying nothing.

"You really got ten people out of one hundred and forty two people to defect?" Alexander asked rhetorically, "I'm impressed, after we filter out the spies and the heroes that's what? Two? Three? Better than I expected. I mean not as good as I'd manage, but still okay for a first try"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up" Clayworth said, fighting a smile.

"But seriously," Alexander said sobering up somewhat, "what are we going to do with them? I can't transit them to Terra Prime in my condition, and I sure as shit don't want them on the Lacerate, we need to come up with a better name for her by the way"

Clayworth nodding, "We could always dump them on E29"

Alexander grimaced, "Not sure I like the idea of selling them into intellectual slavery, because that's what it is." He held up a hand, "Oh they'd have nice lives, all the creature comforts, but they wouldn't be free in any sense of the word"

Clayworth shrugged, "Other than opening the airlock doors, marooning them, or taking them home we don't have many options"

Alexander nodded, "Yeah I know, shit, it would be so much easier if they were all baby eating monster wouldn't it?"

Clayworth laughed, "Welcome to the reality of war, where ninety nine percent of the time the people you are fighting are just ordinary people wearing the wrong uniform"

"Well, split off our 'defectors' into a separate quarters, with guards, and keep the rest in the cargo bay. I should be able to transit in a few days, and then we can stick them somewhere on Terra Prime 'til we work out what to do with them" Alexander ordered.

***

Only a few years ago Urial Clearsky couldn't read or write, the most advanced technology he knew was village forge. Yet here he was on a great vessel sailing the stars, he'd walked worlds so alien he couldn't have dreamt of their existence, and in his hands he held a device capable of containing more information than had been produced in the entirety of the world he came from.

Yet Urial wasn't marveling at the wonders in front of him, he was researching, studying, striving to find an answer to a question. He was looking for a way to kill gods. Or at least beings with the power of gods.

Ever since the day Lord Alexander had taken him from the slave pens he'd dedicated his life to the protection of his new Lord. Others on Terra Prime were grateful to Alexander, he was well liked, and highly respected, but only a handful could match Urial in their fanatic devotion to him and his mission, and none could surpass him.

When Lord Alexander announced the formation of a defence force, Urial was the first volunteer, when Colour Sergeant Clayworth was looking for people to form a protective detail for their Lord, Urial was his first choice to lead the unit.

He believed in what his Lord promised, he believed that one day an empire would stretch across time and space, across a multitude of worlds, bringing humanity into a golden age. A world where everyone, even the son of a farmer, could live in peace and prosperity. And he'd be damned if he let some crazy woman with admittedly impressive powers threaten that.

***

A few rooms over Alexander was blissfully unaware of his bodyguard's self-imposed mission, if he knew he'd have had a quiet work with him, but he was too busy doing his own research.

The Lacerate was a fine ship, but recent events had shown that until they could get the stolen Kromagg sliding technology working it was too unwieldy to of much use. Alexander simply couldn't justify putting himself out of comission for days at a time, putting all false modesty aside he was a vital resource, he was their only means of travelling between universes, and even once they got the drive working he'd still be their primary scout.

To that end he was designing his own ship. One that suited him and his likely missions. He was limiting himself to one hundred and fifty thousand kilograms, unladen, tiny compared to the Lacerate or it's bigger sisters, but still a rather large amount to transit in one go. It shouldn't take anywhere near as much out of his as transiting the Lacerate, his estimates put it at seven minutes for a transit and six days for a cooldown, if he transited in an ideal location. Rather than going with a pre-built Star Wars design he figured he'd try his hand and see what eventuated.

There were some surprisingly good design tools in the Lacerate's database. Alexander theorised that they were put there more to keep the crew entertained, than anything else, still they'd give him something to show the professionals when he was ready to put in an order. He considered briefly having it built on Terra Prime or by the droids in their little ship yard, but if something was going to be standing between him and death he didn't want it to be made by novices or machines supervised by novices.

The design he was currently working on was twenty six meters long and nine meters wide at it's widest, with a slightly curved main body and a cockpit at the head. Next to the cockpit were a pair of heavy laser cannons making up the main armament, with a pair of smaller point defence lasers turrets on the top and bottom of the craft, also on the belly was a single kinetic launcher. He honestly wasn't sure if he wanted KKV or missiles, both had advantages and disadvantages, and there wasn't space for both.

As it was it was going to be cramped inside, having placed the best hyperdrive, sub-light engines, and shield generators on the market in the main body. Oh there would be enough room for himself and a crew of four or five to live, but it would be cramped. He was afterall leaving room for upgrades. While the Star Wars universe had some very impressive technology, it wasn't the be all and end all of starship design, he planned to retrofit his ship was as many game breaking devices as he could get his hands on.

After all if you weren't cheating, you weren't trying were you?