Riptide Rising

Chapter Six

Kapp heard a hollow pop. As he opened his eyes, he realized the ship was now in open space. One second, he was staring at the roof of the dome — now, here he was. To his surprise, they had traveled straight through it. Looking back, he could see the top of the dome. Home Ship was a floating gray sphere in the middle of space. Kapp couldn’t tell how it was propelled, nor could he imagine how it functioned.

“Did we just go straight through it?” Kapp asked.

“The top of Home Ship is not solid from the inside. We can always travel out at speed when necessary.” Qualia stared straight ahead, intensely focused on piloting the small ship.

“What about going back in?”

“A member of the Shoal monitors our ships. They allow the exterior to admit us when we get close.”

Kapp had to suppress an image of them crashing straight into the dome because Azule, Caltuth, or Cerule weren’t paying attention.

“Comforting. Hopefully they’ll be watching,” Kapp said with a nervous chuckle.

Looking ahead, he saw many other Aqualin ships traveling toward a human support ship.

“They came! That’s the Alpha’s support ship. They would come to resupply us on our mission,” Kapp said, giddy at the idea of seeing other humans.

“We are too late, Kapp. I am sure they are all dead. The Nokken may have left a survivor to bring more humans as they did with you.”

Looking closer, he saw six ominous ships perched on top of the support ship. They reminded him of something straight out of an ancient history book from the academy — viking longboats but made of some dark, reflective material. A shell-like roof encased the back half of the deck, and a forward-facing transparent viewport gleamed menacingly. Serrated blades extended from the sides, right where one might expect oars. As he watched, Nokken figures climbed up through clear tubing where their ships connected with the support vessel. Presumably, they were preparing to leave after completing their brutal work onboard.

On the other side of the support ship, a much larger vessel lurked menacingly. It was half the size of Home Ship but dwarfed all others. Angular and sharp, it formed a compressed pyramid with jagged, serrated blades extending from each edge.

“What’s the plan?” Kapp asked, trying to stifle the anxiety creeping into his chest.

“We cannot let the survivor escape. We must keep them from returning to your kind and bringing weapons to the Nokken.”

“How are you so sure there even is a survivor?”

“Do your small human eyes not see well in the dark?” she asked, her haughty attitude returning.

Kapp doubted he could see nearly as well as Qualia could. Her enormous eyes seemed to be almost entirely pupils. He imagined space lit up for her like daylight.

“Evidently not as well as your big peepers. What do you see?”

“Peepers?” she asked incredulously.

Kapp guessed that one didn’t translate well.

“Never mind. What do you see?”

“There is a small ship, like the one you arrived in. It is between us and the Nephrops.”

“Nephrops? What’s a Nephrops?”

As they moved closer, Kapp saw the Nokken ships detach from the support ship and scatter like flies from a corpse. At least ten Aqualin ships had reached them now. The largest Nokken vessel shot forward, the five smaller ships on its tail.

Kapp never thought he’d witness swordplay in space, but that’s exactly what the battle had become. The ships darted and slashed at each other, their extended blades colliding in mid air. The Aqualin pilots were agile, their ships spinning and weaving at impossible speeds, narrowly avoiding and parrying the brutal strikes of the Nokken.

Two Nokken ships coordinated, slicing from both sides at once in a deadly pincer move. The Aqualin fleet reacted quickly, but not all could escape. Three ships were caught in the deadly cross strike. The ships were split clean in half, the sections drifting apart in a cloud of debris.

A few Aqualin ships regrouped and shot forward to retaliate, their bladed wings carving through the void as they closed in on their Nokken targets. One Aqualin fighter sliced through the flank of a Nokken ship, its blade cleaving through the monster ship’s exterior. The Nokken ship staggered, but the Aqualin ship did not stop. It spun around, pulling off a sharp reversal before slashing again. Another Nokken ship was thrown off course, spinning wildly into the path of an incoming Aqualin ship, which used its momentum to send the Nokken ship spiraling into the dark void.

Despite the losses, Kapp was confident. The Aqualin fleet was still intact, their reinforcements not far off. They would overwhelm the Nokken soon enough. But just as the Aqualin ships were about to close in on their enemy’s position, the massive angular ship surged forward at an alarming speed. It cut through the battlefield, isolating the engaged Aqualin fighters from their reinforcements. Spinning rapidly, it sent several Aqualin ships hurtling away, crushed under its sheer bulk.

The Nephrops was an abomination — its dark, jagged edges designed to intimidate and destroy. The battlefield seemed to collapse around it as it sent Aqualin ships spinning helplessly away.

“That is the Nephrops,” Qualia said, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and dread.

“Abandon the assault!” Azule’s voice rang through their controls. “We have been boarded! Return to Home Ship now!”

“PIRTH!” Qualia swore as she spun their ship around and rocketed back toward Home Ship.

Even though the word didn’t fully translate, Kapp recognized a curse in any language.

“So, wait,” he said, gripping his seat to fight the nausea from her erratic flying. “You said a member of the Shoal has to let ships back in, right?”

“There must be a traitor among us. There is no other way we could have been boarded.”

“Did anyone stay behind?”

“Only Cerule and Azule. All others flew out to fight. How many Nokken attacked the crew on your ship?”

The attack on Alpha flashed through Kapp’s mind. He saw the command bridge doors opening, revealing the seven armored beings who killed his companions in cold blood.

“Seven,” he said, pushing down the memory. “There were seven.”

“Yet only six raiding ships were here. That means the seventh must have gone to Home Ship. We must hurry. Azule should be able to hold off one Nokken in combat… for a time.”

“How do you fight them? Do your weapons pierce their armor?”

“No. There is a small gap in their armor where their hair escapes their helmets. Fighting them is difficult. It is best done in pairs. Someone must be behind them to deliver the killing blow.”

Home Ship loomed ahead. A green flash lit up the control wheel, and Kapp hoped that meant they were cleared to enter and wouldn’t slam into the dome. The hollow pop came again as they passed through the barrier.

Below, a fight was already underway.

One Nokken ship had landed on the beach. Two Nokken warriors fought Cerule and Azule, who were attempting to cut off their escape. One of the Nokken was the prisoner from the cage. The other wore an eye patch over one of its sinister red eyes.

Kapp’s mind flashed back to Bristax on Alpha. She had been on the back of a Nokken, her knife sinking into its eye slit before it caught her throat. The memory of the sound of the crushing claw echoed in his mind.

Could it be? Kapp thought. Could this be the monster that killed Bristax? His jaw tightened.

Cerule and Azule held their own, parrying and dodging the reckless attacks of the armored-covered barbarians. The Nokken spun and slashed with their wicked spiked weapons, attempting to use their claws to grab or crush their foes. Cerule’s long spear blocked their strikes, but she never counterattacked, wary of having her weapon seized. Azule dodged and tried to maneuver behind them, his two-sided long knife poised for a finishing blow.

“Can’t Cerule just touch one with her spear and send it flying like you did to the one in the cage?” Kapp asked.

“Mother’s spear does not work like that. Only mine does, and only under the water. If we do not intervene, both will perish.”

Their ship landed a hundred yards behind the Nokken. As Qualia leapt from the ship, Kapp shouted, “I don’t have a weapon!”

“You didn’t need one when you fought Caltuth!” she called back, sprinting toward the battle.

Caltuth also didn’t have a weapon, Kapp thought. And he wasn’t a monstrous half-lobster murderer.

Desperately, he searched the ship for a weapon and found nothing.

Qualia tore across the beach, sand flying in her wake. Kapp was still climbing out of the ship when she drove her spear into the base of the former prisoner’s neck. The Nokken never saw her coming.

“Anktan!” it gasped before crumpling.

The eye-patched Nokken glowered at them with venomous hatred.

“You will all die. None will survive. I am Anktan the Severe! Right hand to Nykkjen the Inviolable.”

Where the Aqualin fought with grace and practiced movements, Anktan was now a spinning whirlwind of spikes and claws. Its claw connected with Cerule’s jaw, sending her flying through the air, her body slamming to the ground with a sickening thud. She landed hard on her back, unconscious, her spear lodged in the sand beside her. As Azule’s eyes followed the trajectory of his mate, Anktan’s spiked weapon found its mark, plunging deep into Azule’s midsection. He fell to his knees, greenish blood pouring from the gruesome wound, staining the beach as he collapsed.

Then, from the water, two young voices screamed in unison.

“MOTHER! NO!”

Nixie and Tovin both sprang from the depths, weapons in hand, determined not to let their mother fight the enraged monster alone. Nixie’s spear was much larger than she was, unwieldy in her small hands. Tovin wielded the traditional bladed weapon, reminiscent of a much deadlier version of brass knuckles.

Kapp ran for Cerule’s spear just as Nixie and Tovin dashed past him, racing to assist Qualia.

“Children, stop!” she called to them, her voice filled with urgency.

The distraction of her children charging toward danger was enough for Anktan to catch Qualia’s spear in its massive claw. It wrenched the spear from her grasp, pulling her sideways. As it did, Anktan swung its spiked weapon at her, and the deadly spikes dug deeply into her exposed back. Qualia collapsed to her knees, much like her father before her, unable to rise. Her eyes, filled with pain, remained fixed on the monster.

Kapp realized with horror that the spiked weapon must carry some kind of paralyzing toxin. Tears sprang to Qualia’s eyes as she watched helplessly while Anktan turned toward her children.

“You will watch, Qualia,” Anktan sneered, “as I rip your offspring apart, limb by limb.”

As Nixie and Tovin sped toward Anktan, its helmet recessed back into its armor. Revealing a feminine, absolutely evil gray face.

“I want you to see your family's killer,” she growled.

Nixie reached her first, driving her spear at Anktan’s chest. The blow glanced off the creature’s carapace, doing no damage.

Anktan chuckled darkly. “Hahahahaha! You have much to learn and no time to do so, young one.”

She snatched Nixie by the throat, lifting her effortlessly.

“Noooo!” Tovin shouted, launching himself at Anktan.

The creature easily parried his attack, then kicked hard at his midsection, sending him crashing to the ground gasping for air.

Anktan advanced toward Qualia, still holding Nixie aloft.

“Say goodbye, Qualia,” she taunted, raising Nixie high above her.

Meanwhile, Kapp had grabbed the fallen spear, still ten yards away from the monster that had killed his partner on Alpha. He knew he would be too late to save Nixie from facing the same fate as Bristax. With a desperate cry, he hurled the spear at Anktan.

“Now you d—”

Before Anktan could finish her threat, Kapp’s throw found its mark. The spear pierced her forehead, and she crumpled to the ground, her claw relaxing its grip on Nixie’s neck.

Nixie scrambled free from the lifeless Nokken, rushing toward her mother. Kapp hurried to help Tovin to his feet.

“Dumb thing should’ve kept its helmet on,” Kapp muttered, trying to lighten the moment. “Would’ve kept it from being impaled, and none of us would’ve had to see its ugly face.”

“Are you okay?” Kapp asked, concern in his voice.

“Better than the rest, it seems,” Tovin replied shakily.

“Tovin, hurry and get some red kelp. We need to get some to your family quickly,” Kapp instructed.

Without a word, Tovin darted toward the water.

Kapp glanced up at the top of the dome, wondering why no other ships had entered. It seemed the one who’d let the Nokken in had also kept the other ships from returning. One problem at a time, he thought. But he had a pretty good idea of who was responsible here.

Where was Caltuth?

Chapter Seven

Lucille Vandra had always regretted joining the Navy. She was a loner who preferred her own company. The idea of traveling to distant worlds and leaving her old life behind had seemed exciting at first. When faced with the reality of a cramped, barely bed-sized room on a ship where she was either working or sleeping, her adventurous spirit quickly faded.

She once dreamed of standing on the decks of great starships, exploring the unknown, and meeting new civilizations. Instead, she was stuck on the UWSC support ship Epsilon, a glorified cargo hauler that ferried supplies between deep-space vessels and settled colonies. There was no adventure here. Only routine, dull work and the constant grating presence of people she had no desire to befriend.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind. “You don’t need anyone, Lucy. You never did.” Those words once felt like a shield, a comfort in her younger years when everything was too loud and chaotic. Though, she never liked it when someone shortened her name. Not even her own mother.

She sighed, rubbing her temples as she sat on the edge of her bed. The recycled air in her tiny cabin was scented slightly of lilacs. She hated the smell. It made her miss the fresh air of her home. The narrow walls made her feel like she was trapped inside a storage container, and the hum of the ship’s life support system never stopped.

Her shift had already started. No doubt Charles was at the front desk of the storage bay, tallying supplies and preparing to give her a hard time about her punctuality. “Ah, if it isn’t Lucy the Late.” She could just picture his overconfident voice now.

He, like her mother, insisted on calling her Lucy as he knew it got under her skin.

Charles had been the one small bright spot of life on Epsilon. No matter how many times Lucille had shut him down, he always came back with another witty remark, as if his whole purpose in life was to crack her admittedly sour demeanor.

She was sure by now someone had alerted her superior, ensuring she would get another useless warning about teamwork and discipline.

She forced herself to stand, stepping over the crumpled uniform she had discarded the night before. She picked it up and shook it out, barely bothering to smooth the wrinkles. Her hair was a mess, and she half-heartedly pulled it into a loose ponytail. The mirror by her bed showed dark circles under her eyes, her expression as lifeless as she felt.

With a resigned sigh, she stepped out into the hallway.

The corridor was brighter than she wanted it to be, the sterile white lights reflecting off the metal walls. She walked slowly, dreading the hours ahead.

Then, something tickled the edge of her senses.

At first, it was faint, just a strange tinge in the air, like something left too long in a damp, warm place. She wrinkled her nose but kept walking. Probably just the usual ship stench from machinery, sweat, and the occasional whiff of someone’s leftover food.

The hallway leading to the storage bay felt off. Not just because of the growing stench curling in her nostrils, but because something about the air itself had changed. It pressed against her skin like an unseen weight.

Lucille slowed her pace.Epsilon’s corridors were always the same: tight, dull, and sterile. But now, they felt wrong — too quiet, too still.

Up ahead, one of the overhead lights flickered, its glow sputtering like a dying firefly. The pulsing light made the shadows along the walls stretch and distort, twisting with each erratic flash.

She rubbed her arms, suddenly aware of a chill in the air. The ship was never cold. The recycled air systems maintained a consistent temperature, even in emergencies.

Her stomach tightened.

Lucille wasn’t the type to spook easily. She hated the dramatics of ghost stories, and she had no patience for paranoia. But right now, her instincts were screaming at her.

She wasn’t alone.

A figure stood just past the flickering light.

She froze.

The person, or whatever it was, was barely visible, just beyond the reach of the light. The shape was humanoid, but the way it stood was unnatural. It almost looked to be made of stone.

“Charles?” she called out, though she knew it could not be him.

No response.

The light flickered out.

She could no longer make out any figure in the hallway.

A chill ran through her bones. Lucille swallowed hard and took a cautious step forward, her ears straining for any sound — breathing, movement, anything.

She clenched her fists. It was just a trick of the light. That was all

She forced herself to keep walking, faster now, trying to ignore the way her heartbeat pounded against her ribs. As she neared the final stretch of the hallway, the smell intensified. Like a long abandoned seafood buffet, the rotting stench made her stomach churn.

She hesitated before opening the storage bay doors.

“Charles?” she called softly.

No answer.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Something inside her screamed to turn around, to walk away and pretend she had never come here.

Swallowing hard, she stepped forward and pressed the panel to open the doors.

The doors slid open, and the smell hit her like a physical force.

Lucille’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the horror before her.

Blood covered the floor and was smeared across the walls. Limbs lay scattered like discarded trash, and chunks of flesh clung to the shelving units where supplies had once been neatly stacked.

She stared at the front desk. Charles was slumped in his chair. No, not Charles, what remained of him. His head was missing, and his uniform was soaked through with blood.

Something moved behind a shelf.

“Hello?” she called out, barely able to force the word past her lips.

“One lives. Good. All others are dead.”

The voice sent a horrible sensation through her body. It did not echo in the room; it echoed in her mind.

Lucille turned to run, but after only two steps, she collided with something solid.

The nightmare stood in the doorway, blocking her escape. It was humanoid in shape, but its body was covered in a greenish-blue shell that resembled a lobster’s carapace. Its red eyes locked onto her. One arm ended in a massive, blood-soaked claw. The other held Charles’ severed head by the hair.

“You will listen. You will obey. Or you will end as this one.” It shook its head for emphasis.

Lucille spun and sprinted toward the far exit. Panic controlled her movements. Blood made the floor slick beneath her feet, but she managed to keep going. If she could just make it out, she could lose the creature in the corridors of the ship.

She was almost there. Just a few more steps.

A tremendous force pulled backwards on her hair, causing her feet to fly out from underneath her as she tried to keep moving. She stared up from the ground into the lifeless eyes of Charles’ head as it was held overtop of her. There were now two of the creatures standing above her. They both glowered down at her hungrily like wolves to helpless prey.

“We offer you one chance for survival,” the taller one said. Its face was eerily human, apart from its gray complexion and piercing red eyes. As it spoke, Lucille saw its teeth, sharp and predatory. It waved Charles’ head again.

“Return to your home. Tell your leaders what we have done. They must bring war to us. Can you do this?”

Lucille’s entire body trembled. “Yes,” she said, barely able to form the word. “I can. I will.”

The creature grinned.

That smile was worse than anything else. It was worse than the carnage surrounding her. It was worse than Charles’ lifeless expression. That smile, full of pure malice, would haunt her nightmares more than the horrors it had committed on Epsilon.

The second creature grabbed her and threw her over its shoulder. It carried her with terrifying speed, then tossed her into an escape pod. The door slammed shut behind her.

“War is coming. We are the Nokken.”

The voice filled her mind once more as the pod jettisoned.

Lucille stared through the pod’s viewport, watching a battle unfold in space. The ships moved like predators, flying in and out of combat, slicing into each other with massive blades. She had seen the Nokken up close, but she could not imagine what kind of beings piloted the opposing vessels.

Tears streamed down her face as she tried to suppress the horror of what she had witnessed. Every time she moved, her shoes made a wet, sickening sound. They were soaked in the blood of her crewmates.

She had tried to activate the distress beacon, but the console flashed red. The signal was inactive. Something was blocking it.

“If they want me to bring people, why are they jamming my signal?” she muttered.

Movement outside caught her attention. A massive pyramidal ship swept between her and the approaching fleet. It spun as it moved, colliding with multiple ships and sending wreckage tumbling through space. She flinched as another vessel was torn apart before her eyes.

She forced herself to stay calm. “Hold it together, Lucille. You can do this.”

Then she saw it.

One of the broken ships was spiraling out of control, heading straight for her pod.

Her breath caught in her throat. The wreckage tumbled end over end, and a jagged blade jutted from its side. If it hit the pod, it could easily tear straight through it.

Lucille gripped the safety handle as tightly as she could, bracing for impact. She narrowed her eyes, praying the wreckage would miss her, or at least that the blade would not cut her in half.

The collision sent her slamming into the side of the pod. Pain erupted through her body.

Darkness closed in on her vision, and before the full force of the impact could take hold, she lost consciousness.

____________________________________________________

“Where is he?” Azule’s roar of indignation reverberated throughout the vast cavern that housed the raised platform.

“We cannot know it was him, Lord. All we know is that he is not here. What if he was captured?” Cerule’s serene voice did little to calm the raging Aqualin leader, who swam back and forth across the platform in agitation.

After the battle on the beach, Tovin had quickly returned with the red medicinal weed. Seconds after ingesting it, Cerule, Azule, and Qualia were healed from their injuries. They hurried back to the Shoal’s gathering place and found the ship’s controls abandoned. There was no sign of Caltuth.

Kapp arrived several minutes later, unable to keep up with the Aqualins’ fluid, graceful swimming.

Qualia approached him as he swam onto the platform.

“You saved my daughter, Kapp. I owe you a great debt.” Her eyes were filled with gratitude and emotion. “Without your intervention, we would have lost Home Ship to the Nokken.”

As she spoke, more Aqualin entered the cavern, returning from their ships. Azule must have triggered the mechanism that allowed them to board before Kapp arrived.

One of the Aqualin quickly approached the platform. He was short for his species, similar in stature to Caltuth. His orange coloration was vibrant, which Kapp had come to associate with the younger generation.

“Where is my father?” The young Aqualin’s tone carried an edge of both haughtiness and accusation.

“Watch your tone, Vaelun,” Azule snapped. “We would ask the same of you.”

“I did not see him when the alarm sounded. I only wanted to make sure he had returned from the battle.” Vaelun shrugged disarmingly, clearly hoping to avoid his grandfather’s temper.

“Caltuth remained behind to navigate while your grandfather and I patrolled the dome during the battle,” Cerule said, reaching out to clasp the young Aqualin’s shoulder. “A Nokken ship breached the dome, and we were attacked by Anktan the Severe. At the same time, the captured Nokken turned on us from the water. We nearly lost everything. We were saved only by the intervention of our visitor.”

Vaelun turned to Kapp.

“Well then, we are in your debt.” He gave a slight bow before adding, “I am surprised you were able to offer much help. You took my father by surprise in the Dha’aerda, but I find it hard to believe you contributed much in a real fight.”

Kapp was taken aback as he was thanked and insulted in the same breath.

Vaelun saw that his words had struck a nerve and raised his hands placatingly.

“I mean no offense. I simply mean that you are so…” He looked Kapp up and down. “Well… small. What happened in the fight?”

Qualia relayed the details, her voice steady despite the weight of the memory.

“The Nokken turned on us immediately. I took down the first one, it called for Anktan as it fell. She was a monster — fast, brutal. She struck down my mother with a single blow, then ran my father through. I held her off as long as I could, but when my children ran to help, she overpowered me, paralyzed me with her weapon, and grabbed Nixie by the throat. I could do nothing but watch.”

She let the weight of her words settle before continuing.

“Kapp acted. He had no time to reach Anktan, so he threw a spear. It struck her in the forehead, and she fell dead.”

The gathered Aqualin reacted with shock, their disbelief mirroring Vaelun’s own.

“You threw the spear? What cowardice is that? What kind of warrior are you?” Vaelun’s questions came rapid-fire, and he pointed at Kapp as if accusing him of something.

Cerule slammed her spear into the rocky ground. The clang silenced the cavern. No one dared make a noise as her gaze swept over them, daring them to challenge her words.

“Without Xander Kapp’s actions, Home Ship would now be in the hands of our enemies and drained by Nykkjen and his followers.” Though her voice remained full of her usual serene grace, her demeanor left no room for argument. “Kapp has not been trained in our ways. He does not know our rules of engagement, and he is not one of us.”

Kapp raised his hand, addressing the growing crowd.

“Kapp here. I did not have time to think about whether throwing a spear violated your anti-projectile weapons rule. A monster had one of your little ones. I stopped it. End of story.”

Vaelun still did not look convinced.

“We prove who we are in battle. The tides of the fight uncover the soul. Cowardice in combat is the most egregious sin. This is our way, is it not?” He spoke to all, his words gaining weight among the gathered Aqualin.

Qualia stepped between Kapp and Vaelun’s accusations. She pointed her great spear at Vaelun.

“You passed Dha’aerda only days ago. I will not allow this fry of a nephew to openly attack my daughter’s savior. Shut your mouth, Vaelun, or I will shut it for you.”

“Put down your spear, daughter. I have had enough of this arguing. My ruling is final. If Kapp is to stay with us, he will learn our way. Since you are so concerned with his behavior, Vaelun, he is now yours to train,” Azule declared with authority.

“Wait, wait. Do I have the option to not stay with you?” Kapp looked around, already knowing the answer.

Azule ignored him. “You start tomorrow, Vaelun. Your cousins Nixie and Tovin can join you.”

Vaelun’s smugness vanished. He glared daggers at Kapp.

“Tomorrow it is.” He bowed toward Azule and quickly swam away.

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A Note from the Author-

These seven chapters are the result of two years of work, research, and passion. I am incredibly proud of what is here, and there is still so much more of this story to tell. If you enjoyed it, please share it. I want to keep writing, but with how busy life gets, I need to know that I am not the only one who cares about what happens to Kapp. If you have made it this far, I sincerely thank you for reading.