DARKNESS ON SAGITOL

GUNS OF THE FEDERATION BOOK 4

ANTHONY JAMES

CONTENTS

Homecoming Part 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Homecoming Part 3

Also by Anthony James

© 2022 Anthony James

All rights reserved

The right of Anthony James to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed upon the subsequent purchaser

Illustration © Tom Edwards

TomEdwardsDesign.com

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HOMECOMING PART 2

The fifteen-day return journey from planet Saxivor – where recent action had seen Captain Jed Grisham and his crew defeat an all-powerful Ax’Kol warship and help a Kijol civilian evacuation transport escape into lightspeed - seemed to last an age.

On the one hand, Grisham appreciated the downtime and the chance to think about everything which had happened recently both to himself and the Human Federation. On the other hand, he was desperate to find out how the conflict between the Freedom and the Unity cabals had played out while he was away.

Perhaps, Grisham thought, his direct involvement would no longer be required and he’d be able to pledge the Voltran to whichever side had come out on top.

Fat chance.

When the Voltran finally exited lightspeed, it was at a place midway between planets Loxor and Shesa-2. The latter was home to Senator Herschel Maynard, the man who was leading the effort to forge peace with the Kijol. Grisham sent a comm, requesting guidance.

Comm travel time to Shesa-2 was a little over two hours, so Grisham was obliged to settle for a recorded reply, instead of a live conversation. The recording left much unanswered, though Maynard revealed that Fleet Admiral Oldan Scott had committed to the Freedom cabal. As far as outcomes went, it was a bad one for those within the Human Federation who wished to negotiate an alliance with the Kijol.

Maynard’s recommendation was for Grisham to return to his home base of Fremont on planet Loxor and report in to Admiral Russ Danner, so as not to arouse suspicions.

Four hours later, the Voltran exited lightspeed on the fringes of the Altarn-4 system, home to planet Loxor. Grisham spoke to Admiral Danner. The conversation was short and Danner gave little away. He ordered Grisham to a meeting on Fremont.

“I have to attend this meeting,” said Grisham, when he saw the look on Commander Lois Deneuve’s face.

“You say that every time Admiral Danner snaps his fingers, sir,” said Deneuve.

“As far as the Admiral knows, we’ve completed the mission we were given and have sensor drones filled with footage of a wrecked Kijol world,” said Grisham. “Maybe when Danner sees the footage, he’ll start asking himself if the Ax’Kol are the real threat.”

“You’re still hoping for a peaceful outcome,” said Deneuve. Her expression betrayed her thoughts on the matter.

“If I’m wrong—” Grisham shrugged. He and his crew had discussed this many times during the recent voyage. Bringing it up again now wouldn’t achieve anything.

A short lightspeed transit brought the Voltran to within a hundred thousand kilometres of Loxor. No fewer than fifteen warships of the fleet were patrolling the skies. Doubtless others were watching from the cusp of the planet’s single moon, where they’d be harder for attacking vessels to detect.

Soon, Grisham was piloting one of the Voltran’s shuttles towards the base. Although he’d been away for longer than thirty days, the defensive activity had not appreciably lessened. Tanks, launchers and troops were visible everywhere. Meanwhile, the work to create four new construction trenches was continuing apace. It wouldn’t be long before the Human Federation could start building in them. As far as Grisham saw it, that was a positive regardless of what happened between Freedom and Unity.

“Are you going to be safe, Captain?” asked Sergeant Tyrus Maxwell, standing in the shuttle’s cockpit at the adjacent interface post.

“I hope so, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “I’ve successfully completed my mission, but I don’t know much about what’s happening in the Human Federation. It’s time to find out.”

“Sometimes it’s best to just disappear until things settle down, sir,” said Maxwell, not looking directly at Grisham.

“I have to speak to the Admiral, Sergeant. Even if it’s just to find out which way the wind is blowing. But this might be our last visit to Loxor for a time.”

Grisham’s uncertainties came once again to the fore. He’d thought long and hard about whether he was doing the right thing and had eventually decided he had to do this. The last time he’d spoken to the Admiral, Danner had apparently concluded that Grisham was still onside. Since then, Grisham had completed his mission to Savixor, so, if anything, Danner should trust him more.

However, with Unity and Freedom playing dirty, things might not be so straightforward. Grisham had already seen how suspicious Danner was. Vanishing for a time, like Maxwell had said, was a tempting option.

At the back of Grisham’s mind was the thought that even if he believed an alliance with the Kijol was the best option, his ultimate wish was for humanity to survive the coming Ax’Kol storm. If the Freedom cabal rose to the ascendancy – which looked like it had already happened - Grisham would fight for the Human Federation regardless of the direction it was taking.

Damn, but he hated the politics.

Grisham piloted the shuttle in fast. He remembered his last visit to Loxor, when the crew of a Storm tank had tried to kill him. A missile or two launched from one of the local fleet warships would be enough to destroy this shuttle and Danner would have no problem covering up the incident.

The local defence fleet took no hostile action and Grisham focused on guiding the transport towards his designated landing pad, which was almost in the middle of the base. Admiral Danner was changing offices regularly and he was currently located beneath a building less than a hundred metres from where Grisham would set down.

“There’s no welcome party,” Grisham observed.

“I’m sure it’s because the Admiral knows we’re completely safe, Captain,” said Corporal Ralf Barkley, deadpan.

Grisham landed the shuttle in the middle of the pad and took his hand away from the interface bar he was holding onto. Immediately, his connection to the sensors was lost.

“Let’s go,” said Grisham.

He exited through the cockpit’s single door. The rest of Maxwell’s squad were in the passenger bay beyond. They were standing, because the Ax’Kol didn’t fit seats into their spaceships.

“I’ll lead, Captain,” said Maxwell, hurrying across to the portside flank door. He gave a couple of orders on the squad comms and the soldiers readied themselves.

Maxwell placed his hand on an indented area of the shuttle’s inner wall. The exit door slid open with hardly a sound. It was raining heavily outside, which came as no surprise since it was summertime on this part of Loxor.

Muttering a curse about the weather, Maxwell jumped onto the shuttle pad. Private Nestor Vaughan with his XR repeater went next, followed by another couple of soldiers. Then came Grisham. His feet thudded down on the concrete and he looked around for a moment.

Admiral Danner was located in the building directly north of the landing pad. Like the other structures nearby, the place looked like it was used for administration purposes. A few windows punctuated the otherwise bleak grey of its façade. Pedestrian footbridges led from each of the landing pad’s cardinal points, providing a safe means of crossing the busy roads.

“Corporal Fine, bring the drone,” said Maxwell on the comms.

“Yes, sir.”

The shuttle’s rear cargo door opened and Grisham saw Corporal Fine and Private Olivia Diaz in the bay, along with the cube-shaped drones used to gather footage of the faraway Kijol worlds. All the recordings from the mission to Savixor had been copied to a single drone to make it easier to upload the data.

Corporal Fine jumped from the bay, and the drone – leashed to her suit computer – floated out afterwards. She turned and gave it a mocking pat on one side, as if was a pet dog rather than a piece of sophisticated and incredibly expensive technology.

“Let’s go,” said Maxwell, setting off for the footbridge.

The double entrance doors to the destination building were coated in a reflective material, so Grisham couldn’t see what lay beyond. Doubtless the place would be heavily guarded, just like the road in front of the building. A couple of tanks were parked near the lower entrance and there were a few patrols.

Even so, Admiral Danner had clearly realised that stationing excessive troops, armour, missile batteries and so on near his office made him easier to find rather than harder, and he’d toned things down somewhat since last time.

When Grisham was three-quarters of the way across the bridge, the entrance door opened. A squad of ten soldiers emerged and the lead officer approached at a fast walk.

“I’m Sergeant Joseph, sir,” she said.

“Captain Grisham. I’m expected.”

Joseph had evidently done her homework and she didn’t bother checking her handheld tablet for confirmation. “This way, sir,” she said.

A few seconds later, Grisham, Maxwell, and his squad entered the building. There wasn’t much to see – the reception area had a hard-tiled floor, a hard-tiled ceiling, and hard-tiled walls. It could have been purpose-designed to be as soul-destroying as possible. Even the shittiest of shithole worlds was more appealing than this administration building, Grisham thought.

Soldiers were here in plenty, along with four mobile minigun turrets and, for a reason Grisham couldn’t fathom, a compact multi-launch missile system. Maybe it was here for show, or perhaps a high-ranking desk officer had decided it would have some use in the defending the Admiral.

“There’s a data upload point for that drone through those doors over there,” said Joseph, pointing left. She turned and stared directly at Maxwell in what was probably meant to be a challenge. “Your squad isn’t permitted to come to the sub levels, Sergeant. You can wait in the upload room.”

“Is that your order, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

Grisham had committed himself to coming here, so he had to go along with the wishes of the local security teams. “Go. I won’t be long, Sergeant,” he said.

A short time later, Grisham, Sergeant Joseph and five members of her squad descended towards the lower levels. Grisham noticed that the readout panel on the lift car had been disabled, so that the level number wasn’t visible. When the lift arrived and the doors opened into another, smaller, reception space, the signage here had been removed. This was something Grisham remembered from last time he was here – Danner was clearly managing every detail to make it difficult for any potential kidnap squads to find him.

Admiral Danner still believes he’s threatened. Perhaps things are more evenly balanced than I imagined.

“Do you have orders to blindfold me, Sergeant?” asked Grisham, only half-jokingly.

“No, sir,” said Joseph, stony-faced.

She led the way along cold passages. All the doors were closed and Grisham saw no sign that the building’s usual personnel were still working here. At last, Joseph stopped outside an unmarked door in the left-hand wall. Six soldiers were stationed here, and one of them carried an XR repeater. Sure enough, two of the guards were from way back on Bastion Station, and Grisham was certain they were among Danner’s most trusted.

“The Admiral is expecting you, sir,” said one of the soldiers, holding out a hand for Grisham’s rifle. “Go right in.”

Grisham handed over his gun and stepped up to the door. It opened within a couple of seconds. A short passage led to a second door, and he approached. After a short delay, this door, too, opened.

“Jed,” said Admiral Danner, rising from behind the four-screen communicator which was sitting on top of his antique wooden desk. He looked more rested than last time Grisham had been here.

“Admiral,” said Grisham. He glanced around the windowless room with its tiled walls and couldn’t think of a place he’d less like to spend his waking hours.

“I’d offer you a seat,” said Danner, shrugging to indicate he wasn’t planning to do so. “Your mission to Savixor was a success.”

“Yes, sir. I assume you’ve read the report?”

The report – composed by Grisham on the long ride back from Kijol territory – was honest enough in terms of the facts it presented. With plenty of footage showing the loss of the planet, Danner had what he’d asked for and more. The uncertainty was in whether he’d object to Grisham’s methods. By helping the Kijol evacuation shuttles escape Savixor, Grisham had opened himself up to criticism if Danner was determined to find fault.

“Yes, I’ve read it,” said Danner. “Another dead world and yet more evidence the Kijol are not in a position from which they can demand our surrender.”

Grisham kept his expression neutral and didn’t offer a different viewpoint. “Yes, sir. How is the balance between Freedom and Unity, now that Fleet Admiral Scott is with us?”

“Things are complicated,” said Danner. He seemed distracted and kept looking across at the communicator.

“This doesn’t have to be a long meeting, Admiral,” said Grisham. “I can return to the Voltran and wait for orders.”

“That won’t be necessary, Jed,” said Danner. He leaned over his desk and looked at something on one of the screens. “As it happens, I’m more interested in talking about your mission to Xendar. The mission in which you were tasked with the elimination of one of Freedom’s chief opponents.”

Hearing the words made Grisham’s blood run cold.

He knows something.

“What is there to talk about, Admiral?”

“You told me you arrived at the planet too late. That were was nobody there, so you returned to Loxor.”

“Yes, sir, that’s right. Why are you bringing this up?”

Danner met Grisham’s eyes and his expression was not at all pleasant. “While you were away, I ordered a scout ship to Xendar. It discovered an installation on the planet’s surface – an installation which was not mentioned in your mission report.”

Grisham didn’t bother objecting. He could tell from Danner’s voice and manner that this was game over.

“Furthermore, while you were on your way here to see me, I had one of my technical team remote link to the drones on the Ax’Kol shuttle,” Danner continued. “The calibration systems on each of the drones indicate that during the Xendar mission, they went on a twenty-thousand-kilometre journey at an approximate velocity of twenty-one-kilometres per second. Where exactly were those drones taken, Jed?”

Still Grisham said nothing.

“Were they perhaps taken in the hold of the Ax’Kol shuttle as it went on a journey to the surface facility on the planet?”

Suddenly, Grisham’s fury rose within him. “How dare you challenge my refusal to murder someone!” he roared.

Something glinted in Danner’s eye and despite his rage, Grisham wasn’t too blind to see it.

Be careful. This is what he wants. He doesn’t know what happened on Xendar between me and Senator Maynard, and he’s hoping my loose tongue will fill in the details.

“All these years, Admiral,” spat Grisham “You were building a killer. Brick by brick.”

Danner didn’t try to deny it and that, at least, was likely the most honest he’d ever been with Grisham. The office door opened and soldiers entered. Grisham requested a channel to the Voltran, but his suit comms unit was showing an error code.

“Lieutenant Davis, take this man away,” said Danner.

Grisham didn’t fight, since this wasn’t a battle he could win. He allowed the soldiers to lead him from the room, wondering what the hell Danner had planned for him.

ONE

In the corridor outside, more soldiers joined with the six who’d taken Grisham from Danner’s office, and he was marched in the opposite direction to the one by which he’d first arrived. He was taken up in an airlift and emerged into an underground parking lot. Then, he was instructed to enter the back of an armoured personnel vehicle.

Six of the soldiers climbed in with him. They didn’t readily meet his eyes, but none looked particularly agitated by what they were doing. Grisham didn’t attempt to engage them in conversation. Danner wouldn’t have trusted this operation to anyone who would be easily swayed.

The armoured personnel carrier accelerated with a hum of its gravity drive. Since the vehicle lacked windows, Grisham couldn’t see where he was going, but the positional system in his combat suit kept a record of direction and distance. Keeping him here on Loxor would be too risky, what with the Voltran being in orbit, so Grisham was sure he’d be put onto a shuttle and taken to a holding facility on another planet.

He checked the comms again and discovered that the hardware unit was now dead. Likely a shutdown code had been remotely injected to prevent its operation, which was a better solution than having a mobile jamming unit following him everywhere.

Commander Deneuve’s going to be pissed when she realises what’s happened.

He smiled thinly at the thought. It wouldn’t be long before Grisham’s kidnapping became obvious to his crew on the Voltran. Save from issuing a few empty threats – something Deneuve wouldn’t engage in – there wasn’t much they could do. There was so much traffic in and out of Fremont that it would be almost impossible to identify where Grisham had been taken.

The journey lasted fifteen minutes. A few seconds after the personnel carrier slowed to a halt, the rear door was opened from the outside.

“Captain Grisham, please exit the vehicle,” said a soldier of lieutenant rank, who Grisham didn’t recognize.

When he stepped from the truck, Grisham found he was in one of the Fremont hangars, which his suit computer told him was about eight kilometres from the place he’d landed the Ax’Kol shuttle. It was busy with personnel in the hangar and there were at least two dozen shuttles parked here for maintenance or repairs. A platoon of soldiers stood nearby, their eyes jumping between Grisham and the other personnel. They didn’t want anyone getting too close.

Those personnel weren’t paying much attention to the armoured personnel carrier and the soldiers led Grisham through the flank door of a fifty-metre military shuttle that was parked only a short distance away.

The passenger bay inside was spartan. Barely padded seats looked worn from use, and a basic replicator was installed in the forward bulkhead. All the wall screens were switched off, and the place had the smell of metal and old sweat.

Grisham sat near the front, under the watchful eye of a squad of soldiers, none of whom he recognized and none of whom took a seat. When he turned, Grisham saw another eight or ten soldiers – including the lieutenant who’d let him off the armoured transport vehicle - standing in the rear of the bay.

“Where are we going?” asked Grisham, aiming the question at the soldiers near the forward bulkhead.

A couple shrugged and the lead officer – a sergeant by rank – told Grisham the information was confidential. It wasn’t clear from the man’s face if he even knew.

With a coarse rumble of engines, the shuttle took off. Grisham couldn’t see outside, but he could picture the transport’s slow progress towards the huge hangar doors. After a short time, he felt it accelerate. For almost an hour the shuttle flew east and then it landed.

Grisham emerged onto a landing strip in a small facility in a place he didn’t recognize. It was out in the desert somewhere and the sun beat down upon him. He was directed to enter a second, larger shuttle. The same soldiers as before accompanied him.

As soon as its flank door closed, the shuttle took off. Twenty minutes later, it came to a standstill. The sound of its engines rose to a loud, continuous drone.

After a twelve-minute warmup, the shuttle entered lightspeed. The entire vessel shook and the propulsion boomed. The transition was rough. A couple of the soldiers retched and several others cursed into their squad channel. With an effort, Grisham pretended indifference to the transition.

“Can you at least tell me how long we’ll be at lightspeed?” Grisham asked the officer who hadn’t given him any information last time.

“Sorry, sir,” said the man. “Orders.”

Grisham racked his memory as he tried to remember which HF outposts lay within the shuttle’s realistic travel radius. The transport could likely make it to Kanis in a few days, but he wondered if that would be too obvious a destination. Aside from Kanis, there were various other worlds upon which the military had installed outposts, but Grisham couldn’t think of any with prison facilities.

Maybe Admiral Danner intends to make me disappear permanently.

It was the first time Grisham had allowed himself to consider the thought. He was just starting to realise exactly how single-minded, how ambitious Danner was. Perhaps the Admiral wouldn’t tolerate loose threads like Grisham.

He can’t murder me. The crew of the Voltran and Sergeant Maxwell will know what happened. Danner has probably imprisoned the soldiers, but there’s little he can do about the Voltran. If the Freedom cabal end up on the losing side, Danner will want to be judged as a patriot, not a murderer. That act won’t stand if he kills me.

Grisham cursed as his thoughts spun. He rose and headed to the replicator. The soldiers watched, but they didn’t seem especially jumpy. After all, there were plenty of them and they were armed. Grisham was just one man and he didn’t have a gun.

Returning to his seat with a cup of harsh coffee, he forced himself to think of different things. Grisham was the only person sitting and that was the biggest clue that this would be a short ride.

After thirty minutes, the shuttle exited lightspeed. Then, it waited for five minutes before accelerating steadily. Grisham suddenly realised what was happening.

The shuttle is docking with a fleet warship.

He was right. The transport shortly came to a halt and Grisham waited to find out if he’d be confined to this shuttle, or taken elsewhere.

“Sir, this way,” said the lieutenant.

Grisham was taken from the shuttle and into the bay outside. “Which battleship is this?” he asked. By the depth and resonance of the vessel’s Charos drive, it could be nothing less.

“I’m not permitted to tell you, sir.” The soldier indicated towards the closest of the two exits. “This way.”

The journey through the battleship’s interior was not a long one, and Grisham saw few other personnel. He hadn’t gone far from the shuttle bay when the warship’s Charos drive began warming up for lightspeed.

A couple of hundred metres from the shuttle bay and three levels lower, he was ordered into a compact room, lit in cold blue and with no particular odour. Grisham entered, the door closed behind him and the light on the access panel changed to red.

He looked around his prison. The room was three metres by two, and a single bed was installed into an alcove in the wall opposite the door. A second, narrow doorway led through to a shower and toilet. Other than that, the facilities included a replicator with a limited menu, a metal chair, a metal desk and a viewscreen. All-in-all it wasn’t much different to what he was accustomed to.

Grisham turned on the viewscreen and discovered that he had access to a range of recorded media, but no live channels.

Not much in the mood for TV, Grisham rolled into the bed alcove and closed his eyes. The lightspeed transition came and went. With each new development in his situation, Grisham was less certain where this road would lead. He was no longer concerned that his murder was imminent – though it was surely an option Danner was leaving open – but he didn’t know where he’d be incarcerated. Perhaps he’d be left here in this room, since diverting a major asset like a battleship to a place with dedicated prison facilities would be somewhat wasteful.

For three full weeks, Grisham was left in the room. Nobody came to speak with him, though surely he was being monitored. To fill his time, Grisham watched recorded crap on the viewscreen. He’d never been one to watch TV, but he wished he had access to even one news channel so that he might hear what was happening between the Human Federation and the Kijol.

Two weeks into his enforced stay, Grisham heard signs that the battleship had entered combat. The sound of its Charos drive rose and fell, sometimes reaching a volume that would have been painful were he not wearing his combat helmet. Faraway rumbles and booms indicated the warship was launching missiles from its many clusters.

After about fifteen minutes, the combat ended and the battleship entered a sustained period of maximum acceleration before coasting for a time. Then, it entered lightspeed, leaving Grisham grinding his teeth in frustration. The engagement was confirmation that the Human Federation and Kijol were still at war, and that was real bad news.

At the end of the third week, the door to Grisham’s room opened.

“Come with me, sir,” said a soldier in the doorway. Others were with him.

“Where to?” asked Grisham.

“I can’t tell you that, sir.”

Grisham knew it was useless arguing, but he’d had enough of this room and he’d had enough of being kept in the dark. For a couple of minutes, he gave the soldier a hard time, though the other man’s resolve didn’t break and he didn’t disclose anything he’d been ordered not to.

A few minutes later, Grisham was back on the same shuttle which had brought him here, along with a full platoon of soldiers. He took a seat and the transport launched stern-first along the docking tunnel. The wall screens would usually be used to display the sensor feeds, but they were still off, so Grisham didn’t know where he was.

After its launch, the shuttle accelerated for a time. Then, the engines dropped away to a quiet rumble that indicated the pilot was allowing the vessel to coast. Grisham had a feeling he was being taken somewhere more permanent than another warship.

After twenty minutes, the shuttle decelerated and then it landed.

“Sir, this way,” said the lead officer.

Grisham was accompanied into the airlock by six soldiers in total. He watched for the green light appearing on the outer door. Whatever was on the far side was likely to be his home until the situation between Freedom and Unity was resolved. The airlock finished its cycle and the outer door opened.

What Grisham found was not what he expected. It was near-dark outside and a strong wind was blowing tiny bullets of hard snow from left to right across his vision. Grisham stood for a moment, asking himself where the hell this was. Through the gloom, he saw a shape about fifty metres directly ahead.

“Where have you brought me?” asked Grisham angrily. The readout on his HUD indicated the temperature outside was well below zero and the air was not breathable.

“Sir, you have to leave the shuttle,” said the officer. He gestured with his rifle.

“Where have you brought me?” Grisham demanded again. “I’m damned if I’m taking a single step outside.”

“I can’t answer your questions, sir,” said the soldier. He pointed out of the doorway. “That’s an accommodation unit. If you head straight for it, you’ll be safe.”

“Damnit, this is—” Grisham started. He closed his mouth and stared at the soldier. “I hope you know this is to nobody’s benefit, Sergeant.”

“I’m just fighting for what’s right, Captain.”

“So am I, Sergeant. So am I.”

Grisham didn’t want to be manhandled off the shuttle, so he walked down the short exit ramp. The wind was buffeting, and the snow pelted him. He paused for a moment to look around. The shuttle had landed on an area of levelled ground. North was the accommodation block – which was a small unit about thirty metres in length and only a single storey high. East, Grisham could see mountains, while to the west was grey, rocky ground and darkness.

He didn’t let himself turn to look at the shuttle. Instead, he strode directly for the accommodation block. The snow was settling, but his boots provided enough grip that he wasn’t in danger of slipping. Grisham had covered less than half the ground when he heard the shuttle take off. His face twisted in anger.

The door to the accommodation block was in the centre of the facing side and Grisham knew there’d be another entrance on the opposite side. He placed his hand on the green-lit access panel and entered the airlock. In a few seconds the airlock inner door light turned green.

Grisham opened the door and walked through into his new prison.

TWO

The accommodation block was an old-style unit, though Grisham had seen the like on many occasions – usually on half-forgotten frontier worlds where the people hardly remembered Earth. He explored and discovered that this unit had been designed to house a dozen individuals. Now, it was cold and empty, and quiet like the grave.

Grisham wandered through the interior. Each of the former occupants had been provided with their own bedroom. The beds had been stripped and the cupboards emptied.

In addition to the bedrooms, there were offices and a meeting room. Each office was equipped with a desk, a chair, and a computer. The computers were of a type Grisham hadn’t seen in a long while. They’d all been shut down before the occupants left. He powered up a couple, but his login credentials weren’t recognized by the backend security controller.

Aside from the bedrooms and offices, Grisham located a single area with padded seats and a large wall-mounted viewscreen, which was evidently used during leisure times.

Whoever had once lived here, they’d taken everything personal with them when they left. Grisham felt a sense of age that only came in places long-abandoned, rather than those which were merely empty.

The main tech which had originally been provided with the unit when it was deployed on this planet had been left behind. That tech included a comms transmitter, but one that was only designed for short-range use. Even had it been installed with location data for an HF comms proxy, the hardware wasn’t powerful enough to send a transmission anywhere fast.

Further investigation revealed that the accommodation unit’s power cell was down to thirty percent – enough for another five years of medium-drain usage before it would need replacing. In addition, the biological paste in the replicator storage tanks was seven years out of date. Grisham doubted he’d notice a difference in the end product.

Less than an hour after first setting foot in the accommodation block, Grisham was done searching it, and he concluded that it had not been used for at least ten years.

It was logical to think that the unit had once been part of a larger operation on the planet and, since Grisham hadn’t seen any sign of other structures from the landing strip, he entered the airlock in the opposite side of the building in order to gain a view of what lay north.

The airlock cycled, the door opened and Grisham stared into the gathering night without stepping outside. It was already too dark for his naked eye to see, and the blizzard hadn’t lessened. He altered the settings in his helmet sensor and thought he could see something north. The view wasn’t clear and Grisham returned to the accommodation unit’s interior. It had been a long day and he was tired. Heading out into the night of this hostile planet would be reckless and stupid.

Already, the inside of the unit was noticeably warmer than it had been when Grisham first arrived. The life support modules in these blocks were designed to operate automatically and soon the interior would be habitable.

Grisham approached one of the replicators with a degree of trepidation. The device produced a palatable cup of water, but the steak was strangely mushy and tasted more akin to polystyrene than beef. Grisham was hungry and he ate it anyway. If the out-of-date nutrition paste was going to poison him, he guessed he might as well find out now.

For an hour or so, he sat in one of the chairs in the leisure area. The viewscreen worked fine, and, though Grisham wasn’t initially interested in hunting through its repository of media, he discovered that the most recent files were more than eighteen years old. That meant this place had been unoccupied for much longer than he’d first imagined.

“Admiral Danner has left me in a place that’s been deserted for years,” said Grisham. His voice was jarring in the silence, but he still felt better for hearing it. “No one is going to find me here.”

Grisham cursed the events which had led to this. In hindsight, he’d been naïve to leave the Voltran and all the best intentions in the world wouldn’t be enough to get him out of this mess. However, Grisham didn’t beat himself up too badly. Despite the opposing factions of Freedom and Unity within the Human Federation, he was becoming ever more convinced that the Human Federation had no need for this internal conflict.

If only a few of the main players would come together for some genuine, open talks, then maybe everything could be resolved. Maybe. It was becoming increasingly evident that Admiral Danner was both the main stumbling block and the main agitator of the conflict. The man had his reasons for acting like he did, but those reasons were losing relevancy with each new discovery about the Ax’Kol.

And right now, Grisham would have happily punched the old bastard in the face.

Eventually, the tiredness became too much and Grisham headed for the nearest bedroom. The building’s interior was now warm enough that he could have taken off his combat suit, but it felt like too much of a second skin now. He even left his helmet on as he lay down.

In moments, Grisham was asleep. He dreamed of lost souls and greyness.

When he awoke, eight hours later, his dry mouth and his rumbling stomach demanded he head for the replicator. Although he felt grubby, Grisham wasn’t yet ready to test the showering facilities. So, he drank a foul coffee and ate replicated bacon and eggs that were distant cousins twice removed from the originals. Still, the breakfast was enough to stop the complaining from his stomach.

Grisham took another tour of the accommodation block, to discover if he’d missed anything the day before. Everything was as he remembered it, though now the feeling of age and emptiness was even more acute.

He sat himself at the unit’s security console – which looked hardly different to the other computers – to see if he could figure out a way to access the device. Grisham wanted to learn why the Human Federation had come here in the first place, and he also hoped to gain access to the accommodation unit’s external monitors. Unfortunately, he was still unable to access the hardware and he gave up trying.

Grisham returned to the northern airlock. When the outer door opened, he narrowed his eyes in case it was bright outside. In fact, it was dull and grey. The air temperature remained below zero and the sky was leaden, like a grey blanket had been wrapped around the planet.

Meanwhile, the wind still blew and the snow continued to fall. The covering on the ground was much thicker than it had been last night and Grisham wondered exactly how treacherous the conditions on this planet might become.

He put the snow from his mind. North, about four hundred metres away, was another structure, this one much larger than the accommodation block. Grisham studied it for a moment. The building looked about a hundred years old and it appeared to have been made from a dozen or more mid-sized prefabs, joined wall-to-wall in some places, and linked by sealed alloy walkways in others. From the roofs, antennae and various spindly monitoring apparatuses protruded.

“A weather monitoring and research station,” said Grisham in realisation.

Three other accommodation blocks were on the ground a short distance west of the monitoring station and these prefabs were larger than the one he was standing inside. A gravity car was parked near the door of one.

This was a lot of kit to leave behind, but the longer Grisham stared at the monitoring station, the older it looked. He thought that maybe the hardware had come to the end of its useful life and the Human Federation had decided to leave it behind, rather than send a planetary lifter to pick it all up.

Grisham didn’t think it likely that Danner would have been foolish enough to leave him in a place with anything that would facilitate his escape, but he nevertheless felt obliged to go looking. Stepping out of the airlock, Grisham crunched his way north through the ankle-deep snow.

Now it was day, he could clearly see the mountains east. The snow-capped peaks were far away, but Grisham was sure they were monumental in size, since many of the summits were lost in the clouds. West, there was little but flat, snow-covered stone, that continued all the way until it disappeared over the horizon. The views north and south were similarly bleak.

It took longer than Grisham expected to reach the monitoring station. He resolved to investigate the parked gravity car on his return journey. Gravity engines could – in theory – last for centuries, so it was possible the vehicle would still be operational.

The light on the access panel for the monitoring station’s nearest door was red and Grisham hoped the structure hadn’t been left in a security lockdown state. Luckily the door opened when he touched the panel – the Human Federation had used the same biological coding methods for nearly a century and that meant the building security recognized him as a member of the human military.

Once the airlock had cycled, Grisham stepped into the entrance room. It was so cold that ice had formed on the computers, the desks and the walls. Also, it was near dark and Grisham suspected the power cells for this place were almost depleted, since the lights should have returned to normal levels when he entered. Two exits – their doors currently closed – led deeper into the station.

He paused for a moment. It was utterly quiet, and the sense of age and emptiness was far greater than it was in the accommodation block. He breathed in through his nose. The scents of this place were long gone.

Despite the desks and the handful of computers, this entrance space looked as if it had been used as a changing room by the former occupants. Ancient spacesuits had been piled near the airlock entrance and a cheap-looking clothes rail had been pushed against the left-hand wall.

The tiled floor glistened and Grisham tested his footing carefully. It was slippery, but not excessively so. He stepped into the room and picked up one of the spacesuits from the pile. The material was rubbery and thick, and Grisham remembered seeing images of people dressed in similar suits in the books he used to read when he was young. He let the suit fall back onto the pile.

Grisham headed for the left-hand door – a choice he made at random. On the way, he stopped to see if the computer he passed might power up. It wouldn’t boot.

He opened the door and walked through a short tunnel. The ice was thicker here and he scraped his fingertips along its hard surface, failing to produce any kind of mark.

In the next room, Grisham found a half-dozen consoles, all facing a large screen on the northern wall. The hardware had likely been sophisticated and expensive at one time, but now it was distinctly obsolete. None of it would come online and Grisham thought perhaps the security controller had been instructed to shut everything down. Even with the station’s power cells close to depletion, the computers and consoles should still boot up, though he was sure he wouldn’t be able to access any of the backend systems.

However, with nothing else to keep himself occupied, Grisham didn’t want to meet with early failure. He was going to be here for a while, that much was looking increasingly certain.

Grisham left the console room, choosing the northern exit instead of going west. A long corridor with a grated floor – one of the linking passages he’d seen on the way here - came to an intersection. Grisham went right and entered the adjacent building through another airlock. On the far side of the airlock was a room with more ice and more consoles. Everything was powered off. Exits led from each of the walls and open metal stairs led through a gap in the ceiling.

“Shit,” muttered Grisham sourly. “Everything here is ancient.”

He climbed the stairs. The upper level had been used for offices. Some of the equipment had been removed and that which had been left behind was coated in thin layers of ice. Grisham found a few personal items, including a framed photo which had faded badly, and a couple of plastic trophies.

Heading back downstairs, Grisham continued his search for anything which might help him with his predicament. A wall-mounted panel in the next building informed him that the base power level was below one percent. In this same building, he located a room which had once held the storage array for the facility. The array was now gone - presumably it had contained all the research data for this site and had been taken away at the same time as the personnel left.

The search took Grisham an entire day, and it was fruitless. All the monitoring station’s original hardware had been left behind apart from the data array, but that hardware was useless since he couldn’t access it. Grisham had only really been interested in the comms units and, while they were intact and almost certainly operational, the station’s antennae lacked modern amplification modules.

In addition, the location of the Human Federation comms proxies would be locked up inside the facility’s security controller, which Grisham had no access to.

The cherry on the cake was the fact that the entire HF comms proxy network had been updated fifteen years ago and whatever coordinates were stored in the monitoring station hardware would no longer be relevant.

As he concluded his search, Grisham was disappointed, but not unduly so. He hadn’t begun with high hopes, and that meant he didn’t have far to fall.

He headed for the airlock and, when the outer door opened, Grisham discovered it was completely dark outside. The snow was still falling and the ferocity of the wind hadn’t decreased. He turned on his helmet flashlight for a moment and the beam hardly penetrated the storm.

Had it not been for the guidance of his suit computer, Grisham would have stayed in the monitoring station until the morning. Instead, he returned to the accommodation block, without diverting to find out if the gravity car he’d spotted earlier was functioning. It could wait until tomorrow and besides, he didn’t have any place to go in it.

Trying hard to ignore his growing feeling of solitude, Grisham went to his room and slept.

THREE

The next day, Grisham rose without knowing if it was early or late, since he had no knowledge of this planet’s day and night cycles. Memories of a dream lingered, though they were maddeningly elusive when he tried to focus on them.

Once he’d eaten, Grisham entered the northern airlock and opened the outer door. It was gloomy outside and the local star was a pale disc low to the horizon. The skies were heavy, the wind had dropped significantly and the snow was falling steadily in flakes the size of his thumbnail. Grisham’s footprints from the night before had vanished beneath the freshly fallen new layer.

He set off towards the gravity car, intending to test its operation and then to explore the other accommodation blocks. With each step, Grisham’s feet plunged deep into the snow, making the going tough. He persevered and soon made it to the vehicle. Like everything else here, the vehicle was old and of a design he hadn’t seen before. It was built to carry four passengers and luggage. When Grisham wiped the snow clear from one of the side windows, he saw that it was empty inside.

The vehicle’s gravity drive was offline and its underside was resting on the ground. Taking hold of the door handle, Grisham pulled. The door didn’t open and he guessed it was frozen shut. After a few minutes of straining and cursing, he was met with success. Sliding into the driver’s seat, Grisham pushed the button to start the gravity drive. He saw not even a flicker from the control panel lights, and the engine didn’t fire up.

“Shit,” Grisham said, without knowing exactly why he was disappointed.

He tried to start the vehicle again, and the outcome was the same. It was doubtful the gravity drive had failed, which meant the fault was likely with one of the other components. Grisham wasn’t ready to start tinkering, so he exited the car and turned his attention to the nearby accommodation block.

This prefab was fifty metres by twenty and, judging by its height, had an upper and lower level. The airlock was a short distance from where the gravity car was parked and Grisham touched the access panel. The door opened halfway and then juddered to a stop.

It was dark in the airlock and he switched on his helmet flashlight. Stepping inside, he touched the inner panel. The airlock cycle failed to start and the outer door stayed open. Grisham took hold of the vertical handle on the inner door and pulled hard, hoping it wasn’t frozen shut and hoping the prefab’s security had released the locks when the power cells failed.

With some effort, he dragged the door open. The weak light from outside hardly reached this far, so Grisham aimed his helmet beam into the space beyond. He saw chairs, desks and computers, along with three exits. A couple of old spacesuits were hanging from the wall opposite the entrance. Everything glistened with ice.

Grisham set off to explore. With the prefab’s power cells empty, he knew searching the unit would be a pain in the ass, and so it was. Every single door was closed and he needed to haul them open in turn. The rewards at the end of an entire day were minor – in a metal cabinet in one of the offices, Grisham located a gauss pistol with ten slugs in its magazine, and a power cell that was almost empty. He reckoned the weapon might fire a handful of times if he was lucky. However, if he was ever required to discharge the gun on this planet, it was unlikely there’d be anything lucky about his situation.

Once his search was complete, Grisham returned to the first accommodation block and lay on his bed. He’d only been here two days and already he was ready to tear his hair out with the frustration of being confined to this forsaken planet. How he was going to keep himself occupied when he’d finished exploring the last two prefabs, Grisham didn’t know.

He fell asleep with the mental image of his fingers closing around Danner’s neck.

The next morning, Grisham resumed his exploration.

Accommodation block three was single storey, but larger than the one Grisham was beginning to think of as his home. The unit’s power cells were at five percent, so the lights worked and the doors opened without manual intervention. Searching it took less than a day. Grisham found the same story as elsewhere – the personnel were gone and they’d taken almost everything with them. While the hardware had power, he had no login authority. Even if he could have logged on, it wouldn’t have improved his situation. What he needed was a lightspeed enabled shuttle with a high multiplier.

On the next day, Grisham searched the final accommodation block. He started with low expectations and ended the day with those expectations fully met.

Grisham returned to his home prefab and spent the evening in thought. He wasn’t naturally a pessimist, but sometimes things really were hopeless. While Grisham reckoned he could pull a few tricks with the hardware here – such as rigging up a basic comms amplifier, or fixing the gravity car, none of it would help him in the short term. Even if he managed to create a comms booster, he wouldn’t be able to send a transmission anywhere useful without up-to-date location details for the HF proxy hub network.

Fighting despair, Grisham slept.

The days went by and nobody came to the planet. Grisham kept himself occupied as best he could and eventually put together a working comms booster that he reckoned might push a transmission to an HF proxy hub in a few months, if he could figure out where to aim the antenna. With his suit comms unit having been disabled on Loxor, and with him being unable to access the monitoring station security controller, Grisham came to a dead end.

After that point, his life was reduced to whiling away the hours until it was time for sleep. Often, he dreamed about the souls within the Voltran’s mind, and sometimes all he would remember was the grey. On those nights, he would wake up feeling almost as tired as when he’d gone to sleep and he began to dread those dreams. Grisham wondered if his unconscious mind was taunting him with what he’d lost.

On day forty-eight, Grisham woke early. His head ached and the tiredness from the night before lingered. He tried to fall back asleep, but knew at once he was fighting a losing battle. Cursing, Grisham rolled out of bed. Having observed the planet’s eighteen-hour day-night cycle often enough, he knew it would be dark outside for at least another three hours.

Grisham washed down a breakfast of starchy toast and rubbery eggs with a cup of water. The out-of-date food was terrible and it wasn’t getting any better with exposure.

Once he’d finished eating, Grisham headed for the northern airlock. He planned to spend the day in the main monitoring station, though he didn’t know exactly what his goal was. Grimacing at the pain in his head – which he’d thought was a result of waking up too early, but which now appeared to be set for a stay - he commanded the airlock to cycle.

The outer door opened and Grisham stared into the night. Having had a break from the snow for the last two weeks, it was falling again, and had blanketed the ground in a thick layer. The wind was blowing too and it howled east-to-west.

It wasn’t the snow, nor the wind which caught Grisham’s attention. The exterior lights on the monitoring station were on. Up till now, the station’s control software had kept those lights off to limit the drain on the near-depleted power cells.

Grisham reached for the nearby panel and switched off the airlock lights. For a time, he watched. There was nothing welcoming about the puddles of wan light which spilled in an uneven perimeter around the monitoring station.

Returning to the recreational area of his home prefab, Grisham picked up the old gauss pistol and then re-entered the airlock. The monitoring station lights were still on, but there was no sign of movement, no footprints in the snow, and no visible shuttle.

It could be a technical fault.

Except Grisham felt sure there was no technical fault. The lights were on and that meant somebody had turned them on. That somebody must have come here by shuttle and the only place that shuttle could be parked was on the opposite side of the monitoring station where Grisham couldn’t see it.

His mind turned furiously. He had no idea who had come to this planet. It was likely the transport vessel had launched from a parent vessel – a warship, or another spaceship from the HF fleet. If that parent vessel had been sent here at Danner’s behest, then Grisham’s chances of stealing the shuttle and escaping were limited. However, if this was a civilian research expedition, or a military mission that had nothing to do with Danner, then perhaps he was in with a chance.

Rather than exiting north, Grisham went back through the prefab and left the building through the south airlock. Leaving the airlock, he went west. His intention was to circle around to the three other accommodation blocks and use them to cover his approach to the shuttle.

Having travelled west for four hundred metres, Grisham went north in a wide arc. The snow was already covering his footprints, though it would be a while before they were completely hidden.

His target building was single storey and placed east-to-west on the planet’s surface. Grisham made it without seeing or hearing anything. He advanced along the short, westernmost wall. When he reached the north-west corner, he leaned out cautiously and looked east. From this vantage, he could see the land on the far side of the monitoring station, as well as the other two accommodation blocks – one being north-east and the other being directly east.

No shuttle.

Grisham withdrew into cover to think. From his current position, he thought he should be able to see any parked shuttle, unless the pilot had set down in just the right place north-east of the monitoring station. For a few moments, Grisham listened carefully. He could only hear the wind, and that wind was travelling in the right direction to carry the sound from any transport vessel that might be on the ground north-east of the station.

The adrenaline which had pumped into Grisham’s system when he’d first seen the lights was still coursing through his system, but now he felt a distinct unease. And his damned headache hadn’t gone away. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse.

Grisham watched the station for a minute or so and its walls stared back in defiance. Once again, he asked himself if the lights were a result of a technical issue and again he dismissed the idea.

Taking a deep breath, Grisham ran north-east towards the accommodation block that way. He stopped for a moment at the prefab’s western wall and looked back at the tracks he’d left. There wasn’t much he could do about them, so he continued to the corner of the prefab. From here, Grisham had good view north of the monitoring station. There was no shuttle and no prints in the snow.

The transport could have set down and left a couple of hours before I woke. The snow would have covered the marks by now.

This situation had many unanswered questions and Grisham suspected he was running out of time. In fact, he might already be too late – the occupants of a visiting shuttle could, quite conceivably, have already finished their business in the monitoring station and then left a couple of hours ago, having forgotten to turn the lights out.

Taken by that thought, Grisham ran for one of the station’s two northern entrances. He slowed as he approached the airlock door. This side of the station was twenty metres high and antennae sprouted from the roof. The looming alloy walls were a reminder of how large the place was. If someone was inside, it might be hard to locate them.

Feeling vulnerable in the light, Grisham looked once upwards. If a warship was overhead and high in the planet’s atmosphere, he’d never know about it beyond guessing. Before he placed his hand on the airlock access panel, Grisham checked the leg pocket of his combat suit. The grip of his gauss pistol protruded within easy reach, without being so obvious that it would look threatening if he ran into armed personnel.

Grisham touched the access panel and the door opened. The light in the airlock was dim and he stepped across to the panel for the inner door. In a few seconds, the airlock had completed its cycle and a green light appeared to let him know he could proceed.

When he opened the inner door, Grisham stayed in the airlock for a few moments to watch and listen. This entrance to the monitoring station led to the maintenance and workshop areas, where a bunch of old tools and machinery were installed to repair or replace anything that broke here on the planet.

With the outer door closed and blocking out the wind, it was utterly quiet. Or at least, it seemed that way at first. When Grisham turned his head, he thought he detected a faraway sound at the extremes of his hearing. He couldn’t put his finger on what the sound might be and the harder he listened, the less he heard it.

Grisham advanced cautiously into the workshop. It was dark enough that he could hardly see, but he didn’t want to turn on his helmet light yet.

Benches and cabinets filled much of the space, making it cramped. The nearest worktop was covered in alloy filings, sharp pieces of cut metal, and a few hand tools. Almost everything was coated in a thin layer of ice. Grisham hadn’t been to this area of the monitoring station for a few weeks, but nothing had been obviously disturbed.

Exits led east, west, and south. Grisham decided he’d go south. In the centre of the station was a hub area that gave access to all the outer buildings. In Grisham’s mind, anyone coming here would be interested in the tech, rather than the workshops.

He touched the door panel, while keeping himself to one side. The door opened and he looked quickly along the revealed corridor. Five metres away was the door to the next room.

With quiet feet, Grisham advanced to the far access panel. The persistence of his headache was starting to make him irritable and he didn’t know where it had come from. Neither adrenaline, excitement, nor fear, ever brought out such a reaction.

When he arrived at the access panel, Grisham didn’t hesitate and activated it straightaway. The door opened onto a storage room. Wall to ceiling metal shelves filled the place, though much of what had been kept in here was gone, presumably taken away when the station was abandoned. Because the shelves were nearly empty, Grisham could see all the way across to the far wall, about eight metres away.

Nobody was here and he turned his head once more to listen. For a second time, he thought he heard a sound. Grisham cursed and knew he was on edge. The walls of this place were solid and sound from other areas within the station shouldn’t carry. Whatever he’d heard must be some of the old tech embedded in the walls and activating every once in a while.

Grisham wasn’t convinced by his own explanation, but he didn’t have a better one. The storage room had three exits like the workshop, and the south door would take him closer to the central hub. From there, he could head to the physical hardware for the security controller, or he could check out some of the console rooms where the expedition personnel had likely spent their working hours.

Something about this doesn’t feel right, Jed. Anyone coming here would have brought replacement power cells for the station and switched everything on inside as well as outside.

With little choice other than to proceed, Grisham made his way quietly between the storage room shelves. Once again, he stayed out of sight when he opened the exit door and, when he peered around, it was into a fifteen-metre corridor. This was one of the longer linking passages between the different prefabs which made up the monitoring station and it was so dark he could hardly see the end. Grisham stepped carefully along the grated flooring.

Although the wind was blowing furiously outside, he heard none of it in here. Halfway along, Grisham paused and listened more intently. He thought maybe he detected a faint buzzing sound of technology coming from close by. Glancing down, he saw thick cables sheathed in a dark blue polymer below the grating. Maybe they were connected to a piece of tech that was making the sound.

Grisham stopped for a moment at the end door. When he looked back the way he’d come, the entrance was shrouded in darkness, as if the lights within the station had dimmed in the few seconds it had taken him to walk the length of the passage.

Gritting his teeth, Grisham activated the door panel. Through the opening was a ten-by-twelve-metre room in which were three single-person consoles, a few wall screens and some other seating. The darkness was becoming an impediment, but Grisham couldn’t bring himself to switch on his helmet flashlight, or use the night vision enhancement. For the moment, he’d rely on the old-fashioned human eye.

The room was utterly quiet and he headed carefully towards the southern exit door. His foot struck a small object on the floor and sent it skittering into the side of one of the consoles.

Cursing his own clumsiness, Grisham continued to the exit. He touched the panel and the door opened. The five-metre tunnel beyond led into the hub room. If anyone was still in the monitoring station, Grisham was sure he’d encounter them soon. Then he’d need to talk fast, to find out who he was dealing with and either offer threats or sweet talk to get what he wanted.

He reached for the access panel.

FOUR

The hub room wasn’t in complete darkness, but it wasn’t far off. Grisham’s eyes were already fully adjusted and they didn’t have anything more to offer. He switched on his night vision enhancement and looked around for a few seconds. The hub room was about ten metres square. A few tables and chairs indicated it had once been a social space, but otherwise it was empty.

Let’s check out the security controller first.

The controller was located through the eastern exit and Grisham stepped around the nearest table as he headed that way. He stopped. One of the chairs had been overturned and he hadn’t noticed it last time he was here. While he couldn’t be sure if his memory was at fault, Grisham’s heartrate picked up at the thought he might soon find whoever had come to the facility.

He finished his diagonal passage across the room and halted at the access panel. Grisham’s hand wanted to take hold of the gauss pistol, but he didn’t let it. Instead, he touched the panel and the door opened. Another of the short linking tunnels led to another door. On the far side of that door was the security control hardware for the facility.

As soon as he entered the passage, Grisham’s headache stepped up a notch. It had been a continual annoyance, but now it was bad enough that it was starting to interfere with his concentration. His combat suit was equipped to give him a pain killing shot and he sent it the instruction. A cold needle slid into the skin where his shoulder and neck joined, and the drugs were squirted in. The painkillers wouldn’t take effect for a few minutes.

Grisham advanced towards the door and activated the panel. When the door opened, he stepped into the familiar space beyond, with his night vision still switched on.

The control console was attached to floor in the centre of this ten-metre-square room. Triangular in shape, this particular controller had three operator panels, and in hardware terms it had certainly been overkill for the needs of a research station like this one. Still, here it was, old and offline.

Aside from the controller, there were a few cabinets around the edge of the room. Switch panels and viewscreens were attached to the walls in places. Other than that, it was empty.

Grisham hadn’t spent a lot of time here in the past, since he’d been unable to get the controller to power on. The device wasn’t made to be easily hacked, so trying would have been a waste of time anyway, even though he had plenty of that going spare.

Nobody here.

He was about to leave when he suddenly sensed a presence nearby. Grisham’s blood instantly ran cold.

Oh shit.

Straightaway, he turned off his night vision enhancement, and there it was. An Ax’Kol – all nine feet of it, with broad shoulders and long, powerful arms - was standing motionless, no more than two metres away. Grisham was within easy reach. A single fast swipe with a clawed hand would take his head from his shoulders.

In that one split-second, Grisham knew it was over. He stared at the Ax’Kol, at its featureless, oval face. The creature was huge and possessed an incredible, sickening menace. It reeked of death, and malevolence poured from it in waves. Grisham didn’t know if it was because of his proximity, but he was sure he could feel what the alien was thinking, like its thoughts were leaking out. Right now, he couldn’t make sense of the creature’s emotions. Perhaps there were no human words to describe them.

The moment stretched and the killing blow didn’t come. As if it were listening for something, the Ax’Kol turned its head a fraction this way and that. It took a slow step closer and would have collided with Grisham were his reactions not quick enough to get him out of the way. He reached for his pistol. A hundred shots from the ancient firearm wouldn’t be enough to put the creature down and he had only ten in the magazine.

With a rapid burst of movement, the Ax’Kol turned towards the entrance. The door – which had closed automatically after Grisham came in – opened without the alien having to touch the access panel. For a time, the alien stood still, its hulking frame filling the doorway and its head hunched below the level of the passage ceiling.

It knows I’m here, but it can’t see me. What the hell?

With infinite care, Grisham took a step away. The alien didn’t move and he took another step deeper into the room. An object on top of the security controller caught Grisham’s eye. In the dark of the room, it was near-invisible, but even so, he could see that it was roughly cube-shaped and eight or nine inches along each side. The object hadn’t been here last time he’d visited the security controller room.

A security breaker, thought Grisham. Like the one Sergeant Maxwell found on Xaros.

The security control hardware was powered off, but the data it contained would still be held in a static state on its storage arrays. Grisham had a feeling the alien security breaker could extract that data whether or not the controller was powered on – otherwise there’d be no point in bringing it here.

He took a third step and then a fourth. The alien remained in the doorway and Grisham kept going until he was on the far side of the security controller. For a fleeting moment, he considered putting a few gauss slugs into the security breaker, but he didn’t want to die trying to prevent decades-old data falling into Ax’Kol hands. Besides, the alien might have a second breaker device elsewhere in the monitoring station.

Abruptly, the Ax’Kol stepped back from the doorway and turned with incredible speed so that its empty face was aimed at the exact place Grisham was standing.

Crap.

Ever so slowly, and in complete silence, the alien came around the security controller. Its strides were long, but it didn’t take them quickly. The creature’s head continued moving from side to side, only a few inches at a time. Grisham backed away. He found he was holding his breath, even though he was certain the Ax’Kol was using other means than sound to locate him.

The sense of impending death which had hold of Grisham was so intense it was painful. His heart rate was elevated and he couldn’t remember such a feeling of helplessness. Each time the Ax’Kol took a step closer, Grisham took two away. As the alien followed, it tapped its dirty yellow talons against the metal top of the security controller.

Tap tap tap tap.

Still Grisham kept backing away and the Ax’Kol continued its circuit. When the alien was on the far side of the room, he was near the door again.

This can’t last.

Grisham couldn’t think of a way to safely escape the room, but he had to try. Standing near the wall, he stretched out a hand and activated the door panel. The door opened and, in a terrifying blur of movement, the Ax’Kol leapt clean over the security controller and hurtled into the passage. Even though he’d been expecting this outcome, Grisham was still astounded by the speed of the creature’s reactions.

He looked carefully into the passage. The Ax’Kol was halfway along, filling the space. It was still, and it faced the far door.

A memory came to Grisham, from not long after he’d first taken command of the Voltran. Back then, he’d wondered if the Ax’Kol were telepaths. Now, he was sure. The creature here in the monitoring station wasn’t hunting with eyes or ears - it was hunting with its mind. If it could detect the presence of other minds, that would explain why the Ax’Kol were impossible to escape.

And yet, this one was having trouble locating Grisham.

While he dearly wished for some answers, or indeed anything that would help save his skin, he didn’t have time to ponder.

Grisham thought of a plan. It required fast action and he didn’t hesitate. The exit doors in the monitoring station were set to shut automatically after a few seconds. To prevent it happening, Grisham placed his hand back on the access panel, extending the time before it closed. Then, he walked quickly and quietly towards the controller and knocked the alien security breaker towards the room’s south-east corner with a swipe of his hand.

The effect was immediate - the Ax’Kol charged back into the room, its long arms raised as if it were preparing for a kill. Grisham took what he hoped was his chance and dashed into the exit passage. He’d timed it well and the door closed only a second behind him.

Grisham went straight for the far door. A touch of his fingers on the access panel had it open and he stepped quickly into the hub room. He touched the outer panel quickly, commanding the door to close immediately. As it did so, he looked through the narrowing gap. The door to the security controller room was closed, though he suspected it wouldn’t remain so for long.

Which way? thought Grisham. Although his life was hanging by a thread, he was used to extreme pressure and the calculating part of his mind stayed calm.

He stepped quickly and quietly across to the north door leading to the rooms through which he’d passed earlier. A touch on the panel had the door open and he dashed into the passage beyond. Before the door behind him could close, disaster struck. The monitoring station power reserves hit their low power threshold.

The lights in the monitoring station, which were already so dim it was difficult to see, turned off completely. Grisham’s eyes went to the access panel for the end door. The light on it faded until it was no more than a pinpoint of green and then it went out.

A moment later, he heard the clunk of the mechanical locks disengaging.

Cursing his shitty luck, Grisham stood still and waited to see if there was any power left for the lights after the security systems had unlocked the doors. The lights did come back, though so faintly he could hardly see his hand in front of his face.

He switched on his night vision enhancement and hurried back to the previous door, which was still open. Using both hands, he grabbed the handle and dragged the door closed. As he did so, Grisham anxiously watched through the gap towards the entrance leading to the security controller room. To his immense relief, the door that way didn’t open.

Sealed in the passage, Grisham turned again to the door at the far end. He hauled it open halfway, slipped through, and then closed it after. Once again, he was in the room with the three consoles and the seating. Grisham was sure the Ax’Kol would come looking for him – after all, the bastards liked the thrill of the chase – and he hoped that by closing the doors behind him, the alien would have to search exhaustively, rather than simply following a convenient trail.

How do I get out of this?

Grisham didn’t know. His initial thought had been to escape into the snow, but he’d leave tracks. The gravity vehicle parked at one of the adjacent accommodation blocks would have been a useful means of escape, but of course it was offline.

Adding to everything was the darkness and the complication that the Ax’Kol didn’t show up under the night vision. While Grisham’s combat suit had a built-in flashlight, he had no idea if the beam would give away his position. He was convinced the Ax’Kol were equipped with completely different senses to a human, but surely they had a way of perceiving the environment around them, and it seemed likely the aliens had a way to detect light.

Although Grisham hated the idea of staying in the monitoring station with the Ax’Kol, he was forced to accept it was preferable to heading out into the snow and being run down within a kilometre or two. He pictured his blood spraying onto white as the Ax’Kol’s talons sliced through his flesh. More than anything, Grisham didn’t want to die here on this shitty planet and the determination overcame his fear.

He strode across the room to the eastern exit. The night vision made everything green, but it allowed him to see clearly enough. It was a slippery with ice, and he had to take extra care. Grisham pulled the door open. As he did so, he thought he heard a distant thud. The sound of it made his adrenaline pump harder and he slid the heavy door shut quickly behind him.

Hurrying to the end of the short linking passage, Grisham opened the next door. He stepped through and, before he closed the door, paused for a moment to listen. The only sound was that of his own breathing.

This next room was the main mess area for the monitoring station. Eight rows of tables went left-to-right and two replicators were in the far corner. Plates and cups, many of them with dried up food scraps, had been left untidied. These were the last meal remnants of the former occupants and Grisham didn’t blame them for not doing the housekeeping before they left.

He advanced quickly down single aisle dividing the rows, and went through the eastern exit. That exit led directly into another room that contained an old wooden table and four chairs. A couple of spacesuits were hanging from the wall and Grisham noticed that one had been shredded by a single swipe of Ax’Kol claws. Evidently the alien had come this way when it was hunting for the security controller.

A narrow flight of metal steps rose along the southern wall and Grisham climbed them rapidly. The treads were solid and made no sound beneath his weight.

He emerged onto a narrow, grated landing. A short corridor ended at a left-right intersection and, in both directions from there, the passage continued for ten metres before turning right. This was one of several office areas in the station and the corridor Grisham was standing in went all the way around a central square of nine offices. Most of those offices were linked by doors, and a second flight of stairs descended from the opposite side of the square.

Setting off left, Grisham hauled open every door he came to. Every few seconds, he stopped to listen for the Ax’Kol. He heard nothing, but he hadn’t forgotten his experience on Ovintus. Back then, when he and Maxwell’s squad had been beneath the Kijol facility, they’d been stalked by one of the Ax’Kol. The creature had made no sound whatsoever as it hunted the soldiers.

In less than five minutes, Grisham was done. Every door was open and that meant he could move freely without alerting the Ax’Kol – if the alien came looking for him here.

With no other preparations he could make, Grisham stood in one corner of the main passage, where he could see the entrance to one flight of steps, as well as the turning leading to the other steps. Three paces would take him through the nearest door and into one of the offices. From there, he could exit into a linked office and re-join the main passage.

Grisham readied himself for an unpleasant wait.

FIVE

An hour went by and the Ax’Kol didn’t appear. Or at least, Grisham neither saw nor heard it. He had his night vision turned on, since without it he could see almost nothing. The only minor positive, as he waited in the oppressive darkness, hating his opponent, was that the painkillers injected by his combat suit had reduced his headache to a distant, dull pain.

As the time dragged slowly by, Grisham was left with his thoughts. Perhaps, he thought, the alien would take what it wanted from the security controller and then leave. Perhaps it would search for a while and then assume he’d escaped. Or perhaps it would believe its telepathic detection had not actually detected a life form at all.

Grisham’s mood was particularly sour, and he cursed the mountain of uncertainties. He was, however, keen to know why the Ax’Kol wasn’t able to find him. The aliens on Ovintus had shown no such difficulty.

The Voltran. What if it’s something to do with my link to the warship?

It was an intriguing idea and one which appealed to Grisham. The alternative was that the Ax’Kol was simply toying with him by making him believe he had a chance to live. However, while the Ax’Kol were sadistic, Grisham wasn’t convinced they’d go to such lengths.

Three hours later and there was still no sign of the Ax’Kol. Despite the passing time, Grisham had little urge to venture down the stairs. He was willing to stay here for days if necessary.

Another hour passed and then, Grisham heard the faintest of clanking sounds from the grating on the floor of the passage. His body hit him with an enormous rush of adrenaline and he felt his skin tighten. Grisham turned off his night vision, but the darkness was almost absolute and he could see nothing at all.

Deprived of his sight, Grisham listened with the microphone on his suit helmet turned to maximum sensitivity. He thought he heard another sound – that of a softly padding, but exceptionally heavy Ax’Kol moving along the corridor.

Grisham thought the creature might be coming towards him. He turned his night vision back on and stepped quickly through the nearby doorway. The room contained a desk, a chair and a couple of metal cabinets. With his heart thudding painfully in his chest and his breathing coming fast, the mundanity of the furniture struck Grisham as absurd.

Hold it together, Jed. If you can handle plasma missiles, you can handle this.

His breathing steadied, which made it easier for him to listen for the Ax’Kol’s movements. All of a sudden, Grisham caught a sense of the creature’s mind, like he had in the security controller room earlier. Once more, he was incapable of understanding, as if the alien’s thoughts were a thick miasma of many things.

This is because of the Voltran.

Grisham’s lingering doubts were gone. His time on the Ax’Kol warship had affected him somehow and because if it, he could sense the proximity of the alien’s mind. While he couldn’t read its thoughts, at least he knew it was close.

With his back to the wall near the office doorway, Grisham held himself silent and still. For a minute or so, he felt the closeness of the Ax’Kol. Then, his tenuous link to the creature ended.

It’s gone.

Grisham was hopeful, rather than certain. He stood where he was, hardly daring to move, until his legs complained about being in one place for too long. At last, Grisham accepted that the Ax’Kol was no longer anywhere close by. He rolled his shoulders and stretched out his legs one at a time, to release some of the tension.

It seemed pointless to head back into the passage, so Grisham stayed where he was in the office. Hour after hour went by and the Ax’Kol didn’t return. Still Grisham didn’t move, though he wished he was back in his home prefab with his feet up and eating out-of-date replicated fast food.

Soon, Grisham was fighting tiredness. He’d woken a few hours early as it was and now the lack of sleep was catching up with him. Given the circumstances, he was reluctant to succumb.

For many additional hours, Grisham resisted the demands of his body. After a time, he slid down in one corner of the office and sat with the gauss pistol in his lap. The strain of listening and the stress of being so close to a painful death had taken their toll and Grisham started drifting. Every time it happened, he snapped himself awake.

It was a battle he couldn’t win and Grisham descended into a fitful slumber. He dreamed vividly of the grey. Then, the grey faded and he found himself within a vortex of souls. The souls welcomed him, though they had little comfort to offer.

With a sharp intake of breath, Grisham woke. The Ax’Kol was somewhere near and he could feel the weight of its thoughts. Switching off the night vision brought back the near dark. He stared across the office, while sweat made his scalp prickle.

It’s in the passage outside.

Grisham heard a quiet sound of metal on metal. He didn’t dare move even a fraction and he listened intently. The pistol was still in his hand, but it wouldn’t save him.

A shape – dark on dark – slid into his vision and then stopped. The Ax’Kol was in the office, its huge feet no more than a metre from where Grisham was hunched in the corner. For a long time, the alien stayed where it was. It was searching for him. After all these hours, the creature hadn’t given up. Grisham felt a sudden despair. The Ax’Kol might not be able to find him, but it knew he was here. Perhaps it wouldn’t give up until he was dead.

Tap tap tap tap.

The Ax’Kol touched its claws gently on the desktop, and then scraped them across the metal surface, producing the most gleefully menacing sound Grisham had ever heard. Then, the alien gave a casual swipe with that same arm, its talons extended. The light was just enough that Grisham saw the creature’s dark limb pass a half-metre above his head.

One part of Grisham wanted to run and another part knew it was useless to do so. The helplessness – the lack of control over his own life – was almost more than he could bear. He raised the pistol.

Before he could shoot, the Ax’Kol vanished from the office, smoothly, like it skated across the darkness. Alive and in his corner, Grisham put his head down and wished he was anywhere but here.

The shock of the encounter, as well as the three hours of sleep he’d managed, had revived Grisham’s brain a little. He’d need a proper rest at some point, but for the moment he could function. Since the Ax’Kol had twice come to this area of the monitoring station, Grisham gave thought as to whether he should relocate. It was a difficult decision.

Certainly, it wasn’t the right time to move with the alien being so near, and Grisham stayed where he was for now. He’d been in one place for too long and his legs felt numb. Carefully and quietly, he extended each leg in turn, wincing as the blood rushed back into his muscles.

After fifteen, painfully slow minutes, Grisham climbed to his feet. Taking careful steps to make sure his legs were steady, he exited the office. Having considered his options, he thought it best to stay here. Maybe in a day or two, he’d make his way to one of the monitoring station’s main exit doors. If the snow had melted – which was a possibility in the planet’s comparatively warm daytime hours, assuming more didn’t fall – then he’d either cross over to his home accommodation block, or even head out into the wilderness.

Grisham returned to the passageway corner, ready for another extended period of stressful waiting with no predictable end time. With his back against the corner wall, he stared towards the entrance leading to the steps. The light was no stronger than it had been before, rendering his sight almost useless.

Turning his head the other way, Grisham found the Ax’Kol standing there in the passage, so close he could have reached up and touched its chest. He suddenly became aware of its mind, as if it had either kept its thoughts hidden, or it had simply approached so fast that he hadn’t noticed until just this moment.

The alien leaned towards him and he could see its featureless, oval face in the darkness. And still, he was sure it didn’t know exactly where – or perhaps what – he was. Certainly the creature had tricked him. It had left the office and then waited patiently for him to emerge.

As quietly and carefully as he could manage, Grisham pushed himself away from the wall. The Ax’Kol’s head was so low and so close he could have punched it, for all the good that would do. Talons emerged from the darkness and the Ax’Kol held them near Grisham’s face. They were terrible, razor weapons and he wondered how many had died to them.

Then, the Ax’Kol jerked upright and its head turned. In a burst of powerful movement it was past Grisham and heading rapidly but soundlessly towards the stairs. As the alien went by, he sensed a change in its thoughts. Something else had caught its attention.

Unsure what was going on, but gripped by the feeling that he needed to act, Grisham hurried quietly after the Ax’Kol. The alien was fast – damn he’d seen how fast – and it was already gone from the stairs. Grisham heard the sound of a door being hurled open in the room below and he descended rapidly. The night vision enhancement was enough for him to see which door was open and he dashed towards it.

One of the linking tunnels led through to another room and the far door was open. Grisham dashed to the next opening and scanned the room beyond. This was just another one of the spaces within the monitoring station, and it contained a few desks, some computers and a couple of storage units. The northern exit door was open and, when he paused to listen, Grisham heard another door, at least one room away, being thrown open.

The Ax’Kol has got wind of something.

Grisham sprinted through the next linking corridor, sacrificing some of his quietness for speed. The pistol was in his hand and he held it tightly.

Exiting into the next room, Grisham found that the Ax’Kol had gone north, and he ran to follow. The floor here was more slippery than elsewhere and he almost went down. Before he reached the next linking passage, Grisham heard the droning roar of a gauss repeater. The weapon fell silent and he slowed to listen. After everything he’d suffered here, Grisham didn’t wish to be torn apart because he’d sprinted headlong into a torrent of gauss slugs.

Cautiously, he walked along the passage. The space ahead contained more low-level tech and it was the outermost room for this part of the monitoring station. He stopped on the threshold. The room’s eastern door was open, as was the next at the end of the linking tunnel. Through there lay the airlock leading to outside.

Picking up his pace again, Grisham hurried east. He hardly noticed the desks and chairs here, and turned his attention to the open airlock entrance in the northern wall, about eight metres from where he was standing.

Without warning, something exploded either in the airlock or not far outside. The sudden intensity of the light caught Grisham by surprise. His pupils were already fully dilated from his time in the dark and the pain made him cry out. Even so, his reactions stayed with him and he threw himself deeper into the passage, in hope that the corner wall would protect him from the fire and the blast wave.

Grisham’s suit absorbed the blast energy and he didn’t die to the fire. Smears of white danced behind his eyelids and he wondered if his vision might have been permanently affected.

When the blast faded, Grisham opened his eyes. Thick smoke had filled the room inside the airlock and his combat suit was smoking too. He was still too dazed to think straight and he wiped at his arm. The polymers of the suit had darkened with the intense heat, but they seemed intact.

Struggling upright, Grisham peered into the smoke, cursing at the dancing lights across his vision which made it hard for him to focus.

A head looked quickly out of the airlock and then vanished. Then, a figure appeared. It was human and it carried a gauss rifle. The soldier hurried over.

“Captain Grisham,” said Sergeant Maxwell. “Are there any more Ax’Kol here?”

“I don’t think so, Sergeant,” said Grisham, hardly able to believe his eyes. “How did you—”

“We have to get out of here, sir.” By now, other soldiers had emerged from the airlock and Maxwell beckoned them over. “Help the Captain. He took some of Lowe’s rocket blast.”

All at once, Grisham realised how tired and drained he was. He wasn’t about to be carried from here, so he waved away the offers of assistance. “I can walk,” he said. “You killed the Ax’Kol?” he asked, needing the reassurance of hearing it said.

“Yes, sir. It’s dead,” said Maxwell.

The soldiers exited the monitoring station through the airlock and Grisham went with them. None of this had yet sunk in and he had many questions. He kept his mouth shut while the escape was underway.

One of the Voltran’s shuttles was parked on the snowy ground about fifty metres from the entrance. Much closer – ten metres outside - the corpse of the Ax’Kol was still burning from the rocket blast. The snow had melted in a wide circle, revealing the stony ground.

Grisham found the strength to run and he was soon inside the shuttle’s passenger bay. He wished there were seats.

“You want the cockpit, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

“Not this time, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “It’s all yours.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Thanks for the rescue.”

Maxwell nodded and disappeared into the cockpit. A few seconds later, the transport took off, its engines a muted drone.

Finally, Grisham began to grasp that he really had escaped Danner’s prison. A smile came to his lips, though inside he felt fury.

SIX

Grisham sat with his back to the passenger bay wall. The squad medic – Private Jack Franklin – had plugged a cable from his med-box into one of the ports in Grisham’s combat suit, and the man studied the readouts.

“It’s a ten-minute ride to the Voltran, sir,” said Corporal Arie Fine. She was sitting next to Grisham. “If you have any questions, I’ll do what I can to answer them.”

“How did you find me?” asked Grisham.

“That part I’m not too sure about,” said Fine apologetically. “I was told the Voltran found you.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how.”

“Alien shit,” said Franklin. He looked up. “According to the med-box you’re in sound health, Captain. There’s nothing wrong with you that twelve hours on one of those high-quality mattresses we have on the Voltran won’t fix.”

“Thanks,” said Grisham. He turned back to Fine. “What happened on Loxor? Were you detained?”

Fine smiled thinly at the memory. “Admiral Danner tried, sir. The trouble is, when the soldiers came to arrest us in that room, we’d already gone elsewhere.”

“I thought you’d been confined there by the local security forces?”

“The Sergeant can be persuasive when he wants. Real persuasive. He came up with a story and we were allowed to leave for the shuttle.”

“I’m glad you got away in time.”

Fine shook her head vigorously. “We didn’t go straight for the shuttle, sir. Sergeant Maxwell thought we needed to check up on you, so we found another entrance on the lower floor. When the security teams started getting agitated, we knew something was happening.”

“Weren’t you located by your comms units?” asked Grisham.

“Corporal Barkley…ahem…knows how to hide the suit comms identifiers,” said Fine.

“Yeah, he routes the squad comms through his booster pack, and configures the pack to generate a linked output code that will fool any half-assed identifier sweep,” said Private Diaz, who was loitering nearby in order that she could listen to the conversation.

“I’m impressed,” said Grisham.

“Anyway, by the time we’d figured out that you’d been arrested, the heat was too much and we were obliged to get out of there. Sorry, Captain, we did what we could.” Fine’s expression was one of genuine regret.

“You did what you could, Corporal, and I’m grateful for that,” said Grisham. “Admiral Danner had the place locked up tight to protect himself from kidnap. You didn’t stand a chance.”

“Anyways, nobody tried to stop us when we boarded the shuttle, and we flew right out of there. Sergeant Maxwell didn’t have much good to say about the security on Loxor.”

“I bet he didn’t,” said Grisham. “So what’s happened while I’ve been away?”

Fine looked uncomfortable. “Maybe it would be best if Commander Deneuve answered your questions about that.”

“Tell me – is the Human Federation at war with itself?”

“No, sir. Not exactly.”

Grisham opened his mouth to ask for more details, but he changed his mind. Fine clearly didn’t want to discuss this with him and he could wait another few minutes until he was back on the Voltran’s bridge. There was one question the soldier could certainly answer.

“What was the name of the planet you rescued me from, Corporal?”

“Sagitol, sir.”

Grisham hadn’t heard the name before - nor had he expected to - and knowing it didn’t make him feel much of anything.

Soon, the shuttle would dock with the Voltran and before it did, Grisham wanted to see what state the warship was in after his more than sixty days of absence. He entered the transport’s cockpit and took Private Chau’s place at the third interface.

Having linked to the sensors, Grisham studied the Voltran as the shuttle approached. The Ax’Kol warship’s hull was still marked from its engagement with the Indredalus and the Engarvax at Savixor, but most of the damage had healed. He wondered how much pressure Commander Deneuve had been put under to use the Voltran as leverage in the Human Federation.

The moment the shuttle came to a standstill in the docking bay, Grisham exited the vessel and hurried through the warship’s interior. His energy reserves were running out, and soon he’d need to rest.

“Captain Grisham,” said Commander Deneuve, her face betraying a mixture of emotions.

“Commander,” said Grisham.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying it, but you look like crap, sir,” said Lieutenant Adler.

“I don’t mind one bit, Lieutenant. I probably feel better than I look.” As he spoke the words, Grisham realised the headache which had dogged him for the last day was gone. He was certain it had been caused by his proximity to the Ax’Kol.

Grisham greeted the other members of his crew in turn and then climbed onto the command station’s low platform. He placed his hand on the interface post and a link formed with the Voltran. The warship’s consciousness recognized him and welcomed his return. Grisham felt humbled that all those souls had been waiting for him to come back. He vowed that he wouldn’t let them down again. They deserved vengeance.

He raised his head and looked over at Deneuve. “How’d you find me?”

“We didn’t. The Voltran did,” said Deneuve. “Every few days, the warship would become aware of you and we’d enter lightspeed, but we never found you until now.”

“We thought the trail had gone cold, sir,” said Lopez. “And then, only a few hours ago, the Voltran’s mind detected you again and it knew you were close.”

Grisham understood what had happened. “I didn’t always dream of the grey, but some nights I did,” he said. “When it happened, I must have formed a link to the warship across all those distances.” He shook his head with another realisation. “I was being hunted by an Ax’Kol on the planet. When I dozed off, I dreamed. That must be what allowed the Voltran to finally track me down.”

“We should get out of here, Captain,” said Deneuve. “You can tell us the rest of the details while we’re at lightspeed.”

Grisham nodded. “Corporal Fine was reluctant to discuss matters relating to the Human Federation. What destination should I pick?”

“Shesa-2, sir.”

“Senator Maynard is still on the planet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. That’s our destination.”

“Should we send an advance comm?” asked Lopez. “Nobody knows we’ve rescued you.”

“No comm,” said Grisham. “It’ll be a nice surprise when I show up. I assume the local fleet will recognize us as a friendly?”

“Yes, sir. We’re permitted into the Shesa-2 airspace.”

“In that case - Lieutenant Adler, send us into lightspeed.” Grisham had a sudden thought. “Hold that order. We should destroy the surface facility on Sagitol before we leave.”

“We already destroyed an Ax’Kol shuttle thirty klicks north,” said Deneuve.

“The creature in the monitoring station had a security breaker,” said Grisham. “I don’t think there’s anything worthwhile to steal from the security controller, but I’d rather be sure – in case the Ax’Kol return.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve. “Targeting Death missiles.”

Six of the Voltran’s missiles were enough to wreck the four accommodation blocks and the monitoring station. After a moment’s thought, Grisham ordered Deneuve to launch another two missiles into what was left of the main structure. When it was done, he was satisfied that the facility on Sagitol was now worthless to the enemy.

“Lieutenant Adler, send us into lightspeed,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. Command sent. Our destination is Shesa-2. Three minutes and we’ll be out of here. The journey time is a little over three days.”

The warmup commenced and, though Grisham expected he’d be asleep for a portion of the coming journey, he was glad he wouldn’t be forced into sleep-stasis. As the timer counted down, he focused on the feed of Sagitol. His time on the planet had been a mixture of boredom, frustration and periods of the worst fear he’d ever known. Still, Grisham felt no hatred for the place, though he didn’t want to see it again. It was already a memory, and memories always faded.

After three minutes, the Voltran entered lightspeed, and the feeds all went blank.

“Tell us what happened, sir,” said Deneuve. “From the time you went to see Admiral Danner.”

Grisham told his tale. Even with hindsight, he didn’t lament his decision to attend the meeting on Loxor – a decision which had led to his effective incarceration on Sagitol. He’d thought there’d been a chance that maybe Danner would reconsider his stance on the Kijol. Grisham had now seen enough to be sure the Admiral would never abandon his determination to fight. Whatever the cost.

As far as lessons went, this had been a hard one for Grisham, but a valuable one as well. He’d learned from it.

“I won’t give Danner another chance,” he said, at the end of his story.

“What’s done is done,” said Commander Deneuve. She’d always been the one telling Grisham that he should stay on the Voltran. It seemed she was willing to leave their disagreement in the past, even though the consequences of Grisham’s actions could have ended up far worse. “We still have a chance to move on from everything that’s happened.”

“Tell me of the situation in the Human Federation,” asked Grisham.

“We sent the footage from our mission to Vinxilkx and Savixor to Senator Maynard,” said Deneuve. “He’s put it to good use.”

“It’s all about the message,” said Grisham. Those were the words Danner had used when he was describing how he’d tailored the first-gathered footage from Vinxilkx to support his cause.

“And now that message is out there,” said Deneuve. “Except this time the Unity party has equal control over the delivery.”

“How has the footage from our mission been received in the Human Federation?”

“There’s been a split, sir,” said Deneuve. “Admiral Danner leads a section of the military and he has taken control of both Loxor and Kanis. He no longer accepts the authority of the Senate.”

“The damned idiot!” spat Grisham.

“We had a part in it, sir,” said Deneuve, indicating herself and the other members of the crew. “We provided evidence to the Senate about Admiral Danner’s order for you to kill Senator Maynard. A couple of days later, everything went to shit.”

“Even more to shit than it already was,” said Lieutenant Bishop.

Grisham looked at Deneuve and he saw the guilt and self-doubt behind her eyes. “You did what had to be done, Commander. You all did.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.”

Grisham guessed he should go further with his reassurances, but he was feeling too drained deal with the subject in the right way. For now, he wanted the facts about the Human Federation and he could return to the matter of his crew’s testimonies later. “What about Fleet Admiral Oldan? On which side does he stand now?”

“The Fleet Admiral is dead, sir,” said Deneuve quietly. “He was killed on Earth a few days after the schism.”

“Murdered?” asked Grisham. He felt numbness, rather than shock. After all, he’d seen first-hand how far Danner was willing to go.

“A shuttle he was travelling in was hit by a plasma missile, sir,” said Lieutenant Adler. “It was launched from one of the local fleet Tibors.”

“Was the Tibor shot down?” asked Grisham.

“No, sir. Nobody linked the attack with the Tibor until it had escaped into lightspeed.”

“Who was the commanding officer?”

“Last we heard, the incident is still under investigation, Captain,” said Deneuve. “The flight records had been altered and—” She cursed. “Even if we manage to pin it on Danner, it’s already too late. The damage is done.”

“So the Federation is broken,” said Grisham. “It never should have come to this.”

“And yet here we are,” said Adler.

“Has Admiral Danner made any demands?” asked Grisham. “Or is he planning to go it alone against the Kijol?”

“Pretty much,” said Deneuve. “He has the shipyards on Loxor and Kanis, as well as control over a third of the fleet.”

“He must know this isn’t going to end well,” said Grisham. “For any of us.”

“This is Admiral Danner you’re talking about, Captain,” said Deneuve.

Grisham nodded. “And now that his back is to the wall, he might attempt something really crazy. Something intended to make the Human Federation believe what he says about the Kijol.”

“I bet you’re right, sir,” said Adler. “And I’m not sure I want to think too hard about what he has planned.”

As ever, the future was impossible to predict and Grisham didn’t try – he was too weary for guesswork.

“I need to sleep,” he said.

“Take as long as you want, Captain,” said Deneuve.

Grisham left the bridge in search of a place he could rest his head.

SEVEN

Having located a spare mattress in a quiet place, Grisham lay down to sleep. He went out like a light. The dreams started again – dreams of the dead and the long-forgotten. After a time, he found himself in the grey, but this time it was the easiest thing in the world to push through. At the centre of it, he found the vortex at the centre of the Voltran’s mind. The souls were speaking to him, though he couldn’t understand the words.

Grisham’s eyes opened and he stared at the dark ceiling of the compact room in which he’d chosen to sleep. It felt like he was on the cusp of something – a change – though he had no idea what it was. As the dreams faded, those thoughts faded with them. Rising, he headed to the bridge.

The rest of the three-day journey to Shesa-2 passed quickly and Grisham caught up on the remaining details about the Human Federation’s ongoing situation. It turned out that Commander Deneuve had spoken with Senator Maynard a few times, but nothing much had come from those conversations other than Deneuve had stated her commitment to the cause of Unity. It seemed like Maynard and his allies preferred to keep the Voltran and its crew at arm’s length for the moment. Grisham couldn’t blame them. Trust didn’t come easy in hard times.

When the Voltran broke out of lightspeed, a million kilometres from Shesa-2, there was a flurry of to-and-fro comms. It was clear the Ax’Kol warship was not yet viewed as a full member of the Human Federation war fleet, even if it was ostensibly permitted into the planet’s airspace.

While Lopez did her best to reassure the local ground controllers that everything was dandy, Grisham watched the sensors. Shesa-2 was a sphere of greens, blues and pale yellows, and the cloud patterns drew his eye. The planet’s largest continent covered much of the visible side and Grisham could see the numerous cities dotted about its surface. He guessed the local defence fleet was active and numerous, but from this distance, they evaded easy detection.

“We’re clear,” said Lopez at last. “That was like a ten-round sparring session with a training dummy.”

“I don’t expect the suspicion will disappear quickly, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “Not with everything that’s happening.” He gave a short laugh. “Your next challenge is to get me a channel to Senator Maynard.”

“I’ll do what I can, sir.”

“And this time, you’re definitely, definitely not leaving the Voltran,” said Deneuve. It wasn’t quite a question.

“I’m staying put, Commander. And I’ll be disappointed if Senator Maynard asks me for a face-to-face.”

It didn’t take Lopez very much time to obtain a comms link to Maynard. “I’ve got hold of the Senator, Captain. Do you want him on an open channel?”

Grisham nodded his agreement. He waited a moment and then spoke into the comms. “Senator Maynard.”

“Captain Grisham,” said Maynard in response. If he was surprised at Grisham’s return, his voice didn’t betray it. “You’re back among us.”

“Yes, Senator. I’m back and I’d like a part in bringing the Human Federation together again.”

“Missiles and guns won’t fix what’s broken, Captain,” said Maynard.

“Admiral Danner thinks otherwise, Senator.”

“Danner is a fool,” snapped Maynard. “A murderer and a fool. What did he do with you?”

“He abandoned me on a planet called Sagitol – it’s a place with an old research station. The Ax’Kol were there and they were looking for data.”

“That makes two of our planets they’ve located,” said Maynard.

Danner had alleged that Maynard was responsible for helping the Church of Everlasting Serenity obtain military comms hardware, which they’d installed on Xaros. That comms hardware had apparently been instrumental in drawing the Ax’Kol to the planet. Still, it seemed best not to ask Maynard about it, since almost everything that spilled from Danner’s mouth was bullshit.

“The Ax’Kol are actively looking, Senator. The more they kill, the more warships they can build.”

“It’s hard to believe the universe can host such abominations as these,” said Maynard. “And yet, the final details of our peace accord with the Kijol are proving hard to settle on.”

“They’re a proud species,” said Grisham. He could have added a few other, less complimentary words, but held his tongue. “And I’ve fought them long enough to know how stubborn they are.”

“With the implication I don’t know because I haven’t fought them,” said Maynard.

“That’s not what—” Grisham began. Screw it. Sometimes the truth hurts. “No, Senator, you haven’t fought them. A peace deal will probably feel like a loss to the Kijol, but with a different name.”

“Believe it or not, I do understand, Captain Grisham. I’ve met with them many times, as have other members of Unity. The Kijol need to feel as if they’ve come out on top – as if they’re in control of the negotiations and it’s the Human Federation who are the supplicants. This is why the process has taken so long, but it is only part of the reason why there is no formal peace.” Maynard’s voice became angry as he spoke these last words.

Grisham understood why. “Admiral Danner doesn’t want peace.”

“The warships under his control have continued hostilities, using hit and run tactics. You can appreciate how difficult it is for the Kijol to believe our words of peace when our spaceships keep attacking their spaceships.” It sounded like Maynard was grinding his teeth together.

“I can understand that,” said Grisham. His own anger was simmering as the extent of Danner’s interference became ever clearer. “Is there a way to overcome these problems? The Ax’Kol have proven their ability to locate the Kijol’s populated worlds. Sooner or later, their warships will turn up in the skies of our own planets. With our fleet divided and our war with the Kijol ongoing, we won’t a stand a chance.”

“The Kijol speak highly of your conduct at Savixor, Captain Grisham,” said Maynard. “Some weeks ago, they proposed a joint venture between the Voltran and a warship of their own fleet. I was forced to decline the invitation, and I invented a reason you were unable to take part.”

“What sort of joint venture?” asked Grisham.

“The details weren’t settled,” said Maynard. “I was left with the feeling they were interested in the Voltran as much as they were its commanding officer.”

“The Voltran is an Ax’Kol vessel and it’s extremely effective against other Ax’Kol vessels,” said Grisham.

More so now than when we first captured it.

“With your agreement, I will bring the matter up with the Kijol again,” said Maynard.

“I’ll do whatever is necessary, Senator,” said Grisham. “How long will it take you to speak with the Kijol?”

“Not long,” said Maynard in a voice that didn’t invite questions. “Hold your position here at Shesa-2 and I’ll contact you again when I’m ready.”

The comms channel was cut.

“Well damn,” said Grisham as he absorbed the details of the conversation. “Admiral Danner doesn’t know when he’s beaten.”

“I don’t think he is beaten,” said Deneuve. “If his warships hit the Kijol fleet often enough, any chance of peace will crumble. Danner’s going to ruin everything.”

Grisham sensed the depths of Deneuve’s anger. “You wish I’d given the order to kill him – when we knew his location on Loxor.”

Deneuve blinked in surprise. “I didn’t say that, I—” She exhaled. “Things would be a lot easier now if he was dead. In hindsight, I’d carry the burden of that one murder.”

“There’s no way I’d call it murder,” said Adler. “Danner might not have declared war on the rest of the Human Federation, but he’s stolen a whole bunch of something that isn’t his. If his actions screw up our preparations against the Ax’Kol, he’s going to be responsible for a hundred billion deaths. Danner needs to be taken out.”

Adler didn’t usually get himself so worked up, and his anger was a reminder to Grisham that his crew weren’t passive spectators in this.

“So you’d target the missile and press the button, would you, Lieutenant?” Grisham asked.

“I’d—” Adler closed his mouth and he was clearly thinking hard about his answer. “Hell, yes I would.”

“Me too,” said Bishop.

“I guess that’s all of us thinking the same thing,” said Lieutenant Eric Kinsey.

“What about you, Captain?” asked Deneuve. Her gaze was intense.

“I’d send a plasma missile through the old bastard’s window if I thought he’d be the only one killed in the explosion,” said Grisham. “And if I thought it would make things better for the Human Federation.”

“That’s the unknown, isn’t it?” said Lopez. “If Admiral Danner was dead, would the HF be any better for it? Or would someone else in the Freedom cabal take over the reins?”

“It’s all hypothetical anyway,” said Grisham. “The Admiral is a hard target – that’s why he’s survived so long.”

The conversation died off, though the subject was clearly still on everyone’s mind. Grisham couldn’t bring himself to regret anything which had led to this moment. Sure, he’d had chances to kill Danner before. Back then it wasn’t a consideration, and he wasn’t going to beat himself up because his past self didn’t know as much as his present self.

Ten minutes went by and a couple of Nexus heavy cruisers approached the Voltran. The cruisers came to a standstill a few hundred kilometres away. Lopez exchanged a few pleasantries with the comms teams on the warships. An old generation Tibor sped past and then headed back towards Shesa-2.

“Everyone’s interested in the Voltran,” said Lopez. “I’m getting plenty of questions on the comms.”

“Tell them to take a good, long look,” said Adler. “The next Ax’Kol ship they see won’t be friendly.”

“How long do you reckon it’s going to take Senator Maynard to get an answer from the Kijol?” asked Kinsey.

“Like the man said – not long,” said Grisham. “I have a feeling there’s a Kijol delegation either on Shesa-2, or on a vessel a short lightspeed journey from the planet.”

“I agree,” said Deneuve. “It’s hard to negotiate if you have to travel five days just to shake hands.”

“Senator Maynard is on the comms, sir!” said Lopez. “Open channel?”

“Open channel,” Grisham confirmed. “Senator Maynard,” he said in greeting.

“You have a mission, Captain,” said Maynard at once. “Will you accept it?”

“I don’t usually have a choice in the matter, Senator,” said Grisham dryly. “And usually I get to hear something about the mission beforehand.”

“I’ve had to take a request from the Kijol at face value,” said Maynard. “I have no mission details for you.”

Grisham was gripped by a sudden feeling that he’d been placed upon a sacrificial altar. “Why not, Senator?”

“Because it’s a military operation and they would not disclose the details to me,” said Maynard.

How the hell does he expect to negotiate peace with the Kijol he can’t wring a mission briefing out of them?

“Senator, is there no trust?”

“We’re building trust,” said Maynard angrily. “I wouldn’t give out the details of a Human Federation military operation to the Kijol, so why should they do the same? You are not about to be ambushed, Captain Grisham. You told me you wished to play a part in this.”

“Very well, I’ll join them in their mission,” said Grisham.

“I’m sure you’ll remember that we’re dealing with aliens, not humans,” said Maynard. “The Kijol have many recognizable virtues, but as a species, they are not the same as us.”

“I know that well enough, Senator. What if they ask too much? The Voltran is the most potent warship in the Human Federation fleet. Losing it would be a high price to pay for building trust.”

“I’m aware of how valuable that warship is to us, Captain,” said Maynard. “However, I will do whatever it takes to ensure the Human Federation does not descend into open war. Judged on that basis, the Voltran is no more useful than the oldest Tibor in the fleet, because it will never engage in battle with another human vessel.”

“I am looking beyond our current difficulties, Senator.”

“As am I, Captain Grisham. However, we have many priorities and reaching an accord with the Kijol is one of them. If we are to face the Ax’Kol with any chance of surviving, everything must be in place. That is why I’m asking you to risk the Voltran.”

Grisham felt himself persuaded. Whatever mission the Kijol were brewing, it was unlikely to be any more dangerous than the crap he’d been given over the last few years.

“I can’t remember the last time I read a mission briefing that was longer than a single page anyway,” he said with a humourless laugh. “So this one isn’t much worse.”

“I have rendezvous coordinates, and I will have them sent to you,” said Maynard. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “This mission might be more important than you believe, Captain Grisham. The Kijol revere their most successful officers as heroes. You have already made a favourable impression and that reflects upon us as a species.”

No pressure.

“I’ll bear that in mind, Senator.”

“We’ve received the coordinates, Captain,” said Lopez, off-comms.

Grisham raised a thumb in acknowledgement. “When are we expected, Senator?”

“I believe the Kijol will be there when you arrive.”

The conversation was nearly over, but Grisham had something else he needed to ask. “How does the Unity party intend to bring the Human Federation back together, Senator?”

Maynard tried to stifle his sigh, but the Voltran’s comms systems captured the sound and conveyed it. “There are times when I ask myself if the Kijol are easier to understand than my own species. Those who support Unity continue our efforts to convince Admiral Danner’s supporters over to our side.”

“You’re at a stalemate.”

“The Admiral has gathered many senior officers who have fought since the beginning of the war, and that is all they know,” said Maynard. “Those officers believe they are doing what’s right for humanity. I am hoping that when we make peace with the Kijol, they will understand that humanity has decided to follow a different path. They need to come to terms with change. Most of them are still young enough to do so.”

“What about Admiral Danner, Senator?” asked Grisham. “Do you believe he will ever come to terms with change?”

“I would like to think anything is possible,” said Maynard. “However, the Admiral has engineered much of this and he is the one holding it together. That is why I tried to have him removed from office.”

Grisham left it at that. “Is there anything else you wish to speak of before we depart, Senator?” he asked.

“No. Go at once and return as soon as you can.”

The channel went dead.

EIGHT

“We’re heading into uncharted space beyond the fringes of the Golor sector, Captain,” said Lieutenant Adler. “The journey time will be six days, and I don’t know if we’ll arrive in a solar system or out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Is our destination in the Voltran’s memories?” asked Grisham.

“Checking.” Adler didn’t speak for a few seconds. “The Voltran hasn’t been to the place, but it knows something—” He shook his head in puzzlement. “I don’t know what to make of this.”

“Let me check,” said Grisham. He delved into the warship’s memories. Like Adler had told him, the Voltran hadn’t visited the destination and yet it knew of it. Grisham tried to make sense of the memories, but they were vague. “This is strange,” he said. “It’s like the Voltran remembers fear, even though it’s never been to the place we’re going.”

“Want me to take a look?” asked Deneuve.

“Please do, Commander.”

A couple of minutes later, Deneuve admitted she couldn’t understand the memories either.

“I guess we should take this as supporting evidence that the Kijol aren’t planning to show us a rose garden,” she said.

“We’re not delaying any longer,” said Grisham. “If we’re heading into a shitstorm, we’ll handle it. Ready the lightspeed drive for the transition.”

“Yes, sir, that’s done,” said Adler. “Three minutes and we’ll be on our way.”

Shortly after, the Voltran entered lightspeed. Grisham blew out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He was only now beginning to understand what a revelation his recent conversation with Maynard had been.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said. “Senator Maynard appears to be a man of principle.”

“Strange to imagine that not long ago, you couldn’t say Maynard without including the word asshole in the same sentence, Captain,” said Adler.

“I’m blaming Danner for that,” said Grisham. He was quiet for a few seconds, confronting a truth he would never have believed possible. “I think I might even like Senator Maynard.”

“Me too,” said Deneuve at once. “Admittedly, this is with 20:20 hindsight, but I never trusted Danner. He talked like he had your back, sir, and yet I always had this feeling—”

“You’re right, that is 20:20 hindsight, Commander,” Grisham laughed. His expression turned serious. “Maybe Danner didn’t have me completely fooled, but he did enough. He knew exactly how to manipulate me into thinking what he wanted me to think. He knew I had nowhere else to go.”

“And he knew we’d go along with whatever you told us,” said Deneuve.

“I count it as my mistake, Commander,” said Grisham. “And I hope you all trust me enough to know that I don’t intend to make another like it.”

“I’ve told you before, Captain – we’re alive because we’re a team,” said Adler. “You’ve led us through some shit and here we are on the Voltran, with a chance to make a difference.”

“Amen to that,” said Grisham.

“I wonder how long it’ll take Admiral Danner to realise you’ve escaped Sagitol,” said Deneuve.

“I’m sure he has people in the right places to find out, but there’s nobody other than Senator Maynard who knows.”

“And then the Senator tells other senior members of Unity, and they in turn tell someone else—” said Bishop.

“I’m aware how news spreads, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “In the end, it doesn’t matter if the Admiral knows or not. I’m not intending to leave the Voltran anytime soon, so there’ll be no repeat of what happened before.”

“And he’s hardly likely to order his warships to attack us,” said Bishop.

“As soon as he learns we escaped, he’ll probably curse for a bit and then he’ll accept what’s happened,” said Grisham. He smiled thinly. “Now, would anyone like to guess what the Kijol intend for us?”

“It’s not going to be something minor like a slingshot race around a planet,” said Lopez. “It’ll involve the Ax’Kol.”

“So it will,” said Grisham. “I’m betting the Kijol are having their asses handed to them somewhere and they see the Voltran as the solution to their problem.”

“It’s going to be something dangerous,” said Adler.

“Absolutely,” said Grisham. “It’ll be our chance to show not only that the Human Federation will make a good ally, but that we’re equal to the Kijol when it comes to combat.”

“It’s a shame we’re relying on the Voltran instead of our own tech,” said Kinsey.

“And I doubt the Kijol will be overly disappointed if this warship is destroyed during the course of the mission,” said Deneuve.

“We’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen,” said Grisham.

While he didn’t know anything about the coming mission, he nevertheless felt a growing anticipation. With everything in a state of flux, this was a good time to influence the future and Grisham was eager to test himself.

A six-day journey wasn’t long enough to lose focus, nor short enough to be over in the blink of an eye. Although Grisham was coiled like a spring to begin the mission – whatever it was – he still enjoyed the break. The Voltran wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the basic furnishings and the replicator provided by Admiral Danner were sufficient to make things tolerable. Grisham could remember childhood camping trips on which there’d been fewer basic amenities.

When he wasn’t sleeping – Grisham belatedly learned that his experience on Sagitol had taken more out of him than he’d realised – he spent his time on the bridge or talking to the soldiers. At times, he wandered through the interior of the Voltran. On those occasions, he would sometimes stop and place his hands on the walls of the vessel and think about those who’d died and who now formed part of this warship. Here was a poignancy that he felt ever more keenly the longer he was onboard.

On day five, while he was alone on one of these walks, Grisham discovered he could link to the warship without needing one of the interface posts. He had one palm against the wall of a room when suddenly, he was connected to the Voltran’s consciousness. Slowly, he pulled his hand away and the link remained.

“Captain, where are you?” said Deneuve. Her voice was perfectly clear in Grisham’s head. “I can see you’re linked, but it’s not to one of the secondary interfaces.”

“I’m in one of the lower levels midsection, Commander,” said Grisham, thinking his own response across the link. “I’m connected to the spaceship and I don’t know how.”

“Are you becoming…telepathic?”

“I don’t know. I can feel a change.”

“You sensed the thoughts of the Ax’Kol on Sagitol, even if you didn’t understand them. And the Voltran found you across lightyears of space. You’re damn right something’s changing in you, sir. And—” Deneuve stopped herself.

“And what?” asked Grisham.

“When we were talking about Admiral Danner, you knew I was thinking about killing him. You came right out and said what was in my head.”

“I didn’t need telepathy to read that in your face, Commander.”

“But still, it caught me by surprise.” Deneuve hesitated again. “Does it frighten you?”

Grisham had never stopped long enough to think about it. “No, it doesn’t frighten me. Besides, humans aren’t known for having telepathic abilities. Maybe something from the Voltran has rubbed off on me, but it might not be permanent, and it might not develop any more than it has.”

“I guess time will tell.”

“As always. I’m returning to the bridge.”

Dropping the link required no more than a thought and Grisham stood for a moment in the gloom. From Tibor captain to this.

The remainder of the journey passed without incident, though Grisham found he could still form a link to the Voltran at will, and from anywhere. He was interested to learn if he’d be able to do the same when he was away from the warship, and it would have been a damned useful trick when Danner’s soldiers were kidnapping him. Or maybe they’d have just shot him in the head if the Voltran started following the shuttle he was bundled into.

“Ten minutes and we exit lightspeed!” shouted Adler.

“I’m not expecting us to drop into the middle of a mass engagement, but be ready for anything,” warned Grisham.

He shifted from foot to foot as the minutes counted down. At the predicted time, the Voltran re-entered local space.

“Get those scans done,” said Grisham.

The feeds were of reassuring darkness. What wasn’t reassuring was the Voltran’s reaction to this place. Since its souls had been unchained, the warship had known fury. In this unknown area of the void, the consciousness was betraying other emotions. Usually, the fear and the loss were contained within the grey. Now, they were seeping out.

“Local area scans complete,” said Lopez. “Nothing detected.”

“I’m searching further afield for anything with significant size or mass, Captain,” said Bishop. “We’re on the fringes of a solar system – the central star is about five billion klicks from our position.”

“Keep scanning,” said Grisham. “Lieutenant Lopez - please run a sweep for open comms receptors.”

“Yes, sir, running sweep. Oh shit.”

“Oh shit aren’t the words I wanted to hear, Lieutenant. Tell me what’s out there.”

“Kijol warships, sir. A crapload of them – twenty-five in total. Distances and positions unknown.”

“Request a comms channel.”

“Yes, sir, requesting a channel.”

Grisham drummed his fingers on top of the interface post while he waited. He hadn’t speculated extensively on what he’d find at the end of the six-day lightspeed journey, but he hadn’t expected to find so many Kijol already here. Twenty-five warships was a significant number to have just waiting for the Voltran to show up. He experienced his first twinge of unease.

“I have Admiral Kiolzan on the comms, Captain,” said Lopez after a minute. “He’s commander of the 10th Sector Fleet.”

“Impressive,” said Grisham. “Put him on the open channel.”

“Captain Grisham, you have come as was promised,” said Admiral Kiolzan. His interpreted voice was low and particularly sibilant – like he was very old and speaking had become an effort.

“Admiral Kiolzan,” said Grisham in return. “Yes, I have come. I was told it was for a mission of collaboration.”

“That is correct, human,” said Kiolzan. “Captain Avintziz spoke well of you, and the escape of our people from Savixor was well-received.”

“Then why is it so hard for our two sides to agree on a formal peace?” asked Grisham. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the Kijol’s reaction.

“A formal peace will not be agreed while your Federation wars with itself,” said Kiolzan. “A weak partner is worse than having no partner at all.”

“Well that’s a clear enough reason,” said Deneuve off-comms.

“And probably one Senator Maynard won’t be too pleased to hear,” said Grisham. “Assuming he doesn’t already know.” He switched back to the comms. “Admiral Kiolzan - if there will be no formal peace, what is the purpose of this mission?”

Kiolzan made a strange wheezing sound that might have been laughter. “An informal peace benefits both sides, does it not? And we are facing the same opponent.”

“Is the Voltran here to help you fight the Ax’Kol, Admiral?”

“That it is, human.”

“I’ve detected an incoming Kijol warship, Captain,” said Bishop. “It’s three hundred thousand klicks from our position. Now I’ve detected a second and a third.”

“Your warships are heading our way, Admiral,” said Grisham.

“Do not be alarmed,” said Kiolzan. “We will gather first, then we will talk. When the talking is done, we will act.”

The channel went dead.

Between them, Lopez and Bishop detected more and more Kijol warships. They were in a tight formation and travelling at 340 kilometres per second, this being the maximum velocity of their slowest vessels.

It turned out the twenty-five open receptors did not accurately represent the size of the Kijol 10th Sector Fleet.

“I count ninety-four vessels in total, Captain,” said Lopez.

“The Kijol asked for our help, but they’re giving us a show of strength at the same time,” said Grisham. “I wonder how many other fleets they have like this one.”

Fifteen minutes later, the Voltran was in the midst of a huge Kijol fleet. Neither was the bulk of Kiolzan’s forces made up from smaller or older warships. Every single one was a new generation model and eight were Eternus battleships. The rest was a mixture of Obliterator heavies, Achirus cruisers and Aeon destroyers. All-in-all, there was likely enough firepower on show to wipe out every single vessel under Admiral Danner’s control, and Grisham had a suspicion the Kijol military had plenty of other fleets like this one.

And yet, the Voltran was just one ship - despite its advanced capabilities. Grisham couldn’t imagine what contribution his vessel could make to a mission that the 10th Sector Fleet couldn’t already accomplish.

Whatever the reason, he knew he wasn’t going to like it.

NINE

“Some of these Kijol spaceships have suffered psionic: decay attacks, Captain,” said Lopez.

“So I see,” said Grisham.

The midsection hull armour on the Obliterator heavy cruiser a few hundred kilometres to starboard was dark and uneven in places. Several huge plates – presumably where the damage had been greatest - had been replaced and these were a slightly different colour to the armour in other places. In addition, three of the cruiser’s scimitars were missing and hadn’t been refitted.

“I reckon two-thirds of these spaceships have seen battle with the Ax’Kol,” said Lopez. “There are others which have been struck by conventional armaments.”

“Human armaments?” asked Grisham.

“Hard to tell, Captain.”

“The Kijol built their fleet to use it,” said Adler.

Although Grisham was becoming impatient to continue his conversation with Admiral Kiolzan, he waited. The Kijol would request a channel when he was ready. Presumably he was allowing Grisham some time to appreciate the size of the 10th Sector Fleet.

The wait didn’t last much longer.

“I have Admiral Kiolzan on the comms, sir,” said Lopez. “Open channel?”

“Open channel,” Grisham confirmed. “Admiral Kiolzan, your fleet is extensive,” he said. “What can the Voltran possibly offer that your own warships cannot?”

“Access to the dark sphere, human,” said Kiolzan.

“I knew there was going to be something about this mission,” said Adler off the comms.

“What is the dark sphere, Admiral?” asked Grisham. “My species has not fought the Ax’Kol extensively and this is something I haven’t heard of before.”

“We believe it is the place where the corpses are taken, Captain Grisham.”

“You don’t know for certain?”

“No. This is the conclusion of our military analysts.”

“What happens within the sphere?” asked Grisham. He knew the Ax’Kol made their warships from the dead, but he was curious to hear if the Kijol had learned the same thing - and if they would reveal the fact.

“We do not know, human, but we can abide its existence no longer.”

“Where is this dark sphere and why have you not already destroyed it?” asked Grisham.

“The sphere encloses a planet within this solar system. The sphere is impervious to our weapons. When it was first erected, we subjected it to a bombardment lasting many months. Our weapons failed.”

“Have you attempted to bypass the sphere at lightspeed?”

“Of course, human. The barrier is impenetrable and our warships exit lightspeed outside rather than within.”

“Where is the planet?” asked Grisham. The description wasn’t telling him what he wanted to know and he needed to see it with his own eyes.

“Leoxval is more than five billion kilometres from here. It is on the far side of the Orital star.”

“Was the planet within the sphere once a populated Kijol world?”

A pause. “Yes, Captain Grisham. A long time ago, it was one of ours. Then the Ax’Kol came and they killed everyone. Since that time, Leoxval has been within the sphere.”

“How long ago are we talking here?” asked Grisham.

Another pause. “Seventy years.”

“You’ve been fighting the Ax’Kol for seventy years and during that time you engaged in a separate war with the Human Federation?” asked Grisham in disbelief.

“The Kijol have fought in many wars, Captain Grisham. We do not hide from conflict. Yet you do not know the whole story.”

“I’m all ears, Admiral.”

“The sphere remained an unknown within Kijol space for several decades. We could not break it, so we left it alone. Every few years, we would attempt the sphere’s destruction using our newer technologies. They were not effective. And then, eighteen years ago, the Ax’Kol appeared again on one of our frontier worlds. Several millions of my people were murdered and the bodies taken away. Gradually, over the intervening years, the Ax’Kol attacks have increased. They are growing stronger.”

It was beginning to make sense to Grisham now. For seventy years, the Ax’Kol had been protected within their dark sphere. During that time, he was sure they’d been bringing in corpses from other worlds – corpses of species unknown to the Human Federation and perhaps even the Kijol. And, when they were ready, the Ax’Kol began expanding by taking over Kijol worlds and killing the inhabitants.

“What difference can the Voltran make, Admiral?” said Grisham. He had a fairly good idea of what the answer would be.

“The Voltran is an Ax’Kol vessel. Perhaps it can penetrate the sphere and then destroy the generator hardware.”

Now it was Grisham’s turn to pause. During his encounter with the Ax’Kol at Savixor, the enemy hadn’t taken longer than a few seconds to recognize that the Voltran had been subverted. He wasn’t sure if his warship would fare any better this time.

“Does the sphere possess any offensive capabilities, Admiral?”

“None that we are aware of.”

“And have you ever seen an Ax’Kol warship fly in or out?”

“No. When we abandoned our efforts to break the dark sphere, we left monitoring satellites to observe. They detected nothing.”

“And then you learned that your monitors weren’t able to detect Ax’Kol warships,” Grisham guessed.

“That is correct. We upgraded the monitoring hardware and still they have detected nothing.”

“So if anything enters the dark sphere, it’s happening at lightspeed.”

“Or by a method with which we are not familiar,” said Kiolzan.

It was time to call a temporary halt to the conversation. “I need to discuss this with my crew, Admiral,” said Grisham.

“Certainly. The dark sphere has existed for seventy years. A few additional minutes won’t make a difference.”

Grisham cut the channel and looked at each of his crew. Their faces wore a mixture of emotions.

“Opinions?” he said.

“I was sure we’d end up fighting the Ax’Kol, but this is on another level,” said Lopez. “We’ve been asked to initiate a zero-intel attack on an entire planet.”

“The risks seem excessive, Captain,” said Adler. “The power source needed to erect a barrier around a planet is going to be immense. Even if we penetrate the dark sphere, our target will be well-guarded.”

“It sounds to me as if the Ax’Kol have used Leoxval either as a forward base or as a major outpost in their expansion,” said Deneuve. “If it’s been there for seventy years, I dread to think what we’re going to find.”

“For the moment, I want us to think about how we might bypass the dark sphere,” said Grisham. “I don’t want to agree to a venture that will guarantee the Voltran’s destruction, but we should at least consider if it’s viable. I reckon whatever we learn about the dark sphere will benefit humanity as well. Maybe not now, but in the future.”

“We don’t have enough information to come up with a plan, Captain,” said Bishop.

“But we do have some information,” said Grisham. “The Ax’Kol must have a way in and out of the sphere. As Commander Deneuve said, this is likely a base of operations.”

“Or a factory,” said Adler.

“Or a factory,” Grisham nodded, with grim expression. “Whatever’s in that sphere it’s not going to be pretty.”

“So, like you were saying, the Ax’Kol have a way in and out,” said Deneuve. “You think the Voltran might be able to access the sphere?”

“I do think that,” said Grisham. “However, it’s what happens to us when we’re inside that worries me most. The Ax’Kol warships at Savixor sent some kind of mind-to-mind communication to the Voltran and they weren’t fooled by our response. If we can overcome that problem, maybe we’ll survive long enough to do some damage to the Ax’Kol hardware in the sphere.”

“I did look into ways of blocking the handshake requests when we were on Savixor, sir,” said Bishop. “I wasn’t successful.”

“You have the closest connection with the Voltran, Captain,” said Adler. “Maybe you can tell it to pretend it’s Ax’Kol again.”

“That’s more or less what I intend to do, Lieutenant,” said Grisham, with no real idea how to approach the task.

“What if you can’t accomplish what you hope, Captain?” asked Deneuve. “Are we still going to attack the sphere?”

That was the big question and Grisham didn’t have an immediate answer. He didn’t like the sound of this dark sphere one little bit, and yet he was certain it was vital to the Ax’Kol. In addition, if he and his crew could bring the sphere down, it would surely have an enormously beneficial effect on relations between the Human Federation and the Kijol.

“The mission is going to be dangerous even if the Voltran’s mind is able to deceive the Ax’Kol, Commander. Let’s see if there’s anything I can do to reduce the risks.”

“That’s the best non-answer I’ve heard all week, Captain,” said Adler.

Grisham let that one slide. “Give me few minutes. If Admiral Kiolzan requests a channel, tell him I’ve gone to the bathroom.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez.

While Grisham wasn’t – in theory - under any time pressure, he didn’t want to appear incompetent in front of the Kijol, and he wanted to resolve this problem quickly. The Voltran’s mind had changed since he and his crew had taken over the warship, but he wasn’t sure exactly what part of that change was recognizable to the Ax’Kol.

With a thought, Grisham passed through the protective grey of the Voltran’s consciousness into the place of souls. The dead knew him and they swirled around, comforted by his life. Here, the agitation Grisham had detected when the warship had first arrived in the Orital system was far greater. There was fear and hatred to add to the simmering fury.

In this place, communication was by sense, not words, and, though Grisham couldn’t ask, he was sure the dark sphere was the source of their disquiet.

For a time, Grisham was at a loss. He needed the Voltran’s mind to appear like it was under Ax’Kol control and he didn’t know how to make it happen.

Then, he remembered the feel he’d got of the alien which had hunted him on Sagitol, and how its thoughts had been clouded within an impenetrable miasma. While he hadn’t been able to read the creature’s mind, Grisham wondered if he could replicate that same dark consciousness.

He tried.

The dead within the Voltran were angered by his efforts to mimic the Ax’Kol and, in calming them, Grisham lost his concentration. The miasma faded.

However, while these souls were no longer of the living, they retained many of the aspects which had once defined them. Some of the souls – a few million – copied what Grisham had done, and then they returned to their normal state. He imagined the miasma again and once more the souls copied him. This time, Grisham was able to command them to hold in their Ax’Kol state. He felt sure this was how they’d been when the Voltran was in the hands of its creators.

Grisham withdrew. Despite his growing experience with the Voltran, he continued to be staggered by the strangeness of it all, and at how different it was to everything he’d ever known.

“Is it done, Captain?” asked Deneuve.

“I think so,” said Grisham. “How long was I away?”

“Nearly five minutes.”

“Time passes strangely in there,” he said.

“How confident are you, sir?”

“I’m confident enough to accept the mission, Commander.” He stared Deneuve in the eyes. “Even if what I’ve done doesn’t fool the Ax’Kol, we have to try this.”

Deneuve gave him a half-smile. “I had a good idea that’s what you were going to say.”

“Some things just have to be done,” said Grisham. “Lieutenant Lopez, contact Admiral Kiolzan. Ask him for positional data on Leoxval, as well as any other data he has on the planet from before the Ax’Kol took it over. Tell him we’ll find out what’s in the dark sphere.”

“Yes, sir.” Lopez didn’t take long. “I’ve got the positional data and some other information on Leoxval. Admiral Kiolzan asks if we intend to lightspeed directly into the sphere from here.”

“I’d like to look at it from the outside first,” said Grisham. “We’ll take a lightspeed transit to a quarter-million klicks. Will the Kijol fleet accompany us?”

“Yes, Captain,” said Lopez. “Admiral Kiolzan has mentioned that a conventional comms transmission will not pass through the dark sphere. Once we’re inside, we may be on our own until we bring down the barrier.”

“Acknowledged,” said Grisham. “Lieutenant Adler, ready the Voltran for a lightspeed jump.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll aim for a quarter-million klicks like you said.”

“I’ll let Admiral Kiolzan know we’re on our way to Leoxval,” said Lopez. “Even those Eternus battleships don’t have a three-minute warmup. They’ll arrive after we do.”

“But like the Kijol said, the sphere has no offensive capabilities,” said Adler.

As the seconds counted down, Grisham spent his time looking at the Kijol warships which effectively surrounded the Voltran. In times past, he’d have hated seeing these alien ships. Now, his feelings were considerably more nuanced. That was by-the-by. The 10th Sector Fleet was a powerful fighting force and, for the coming mission, Grisham had a feeling it would need to be.

The Voltran’s engines howled and the warship entered lightspeed.

TEN

Dark sphere was an apt name for what the Ax’Kol had created. A featureless, perfect sphere of pure black, almost forty thousand kilometres in diameter, wrapped the planet. Leoxval’s circuit of the Orital star had not been affected and it continued along its orbital track at thirty-five kilometres per second.

“Our sensors won’t penetrate the sphere, Captain,” said Lopez.

Grisham was disappointed. He’d harboured a faint hope that the Ax’Kol arrays on the Voltran would be able to see through the sphere generated by other Ax’Kol hardware. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

“Can the sensors tell us anything we can’t already see with the naked eye?” Grisham asked. “The Voltran’s inner mind is way more agitated now that we’re up close to the dark sphere.”

“The warship isn’t going to run away, is it?” asked Deneuve seriously.

“I don’t think it knows how, even if it wanted to, Commander,” said Grisham. “Besides, there’s plenty of anger along with the fear.”

“This is where the Voltran was made, isn’t it?” said Lopez.

“The warship has never been here,” Grisham reminded her. “But I wonder if maybe the Kijol who used to live on Leoxval are now part of the Voltran.”

“I don’t have the same type of connection to the warship as you do, Captain, but I have this feeling it’s going to overcome its fear of being here,” said Deneuve. “And when that happens—”

“There’ll be a fury greater than anything it felt at Savixor,” said Grisham.

“I’d like to say it’s going to be fun to watch,” said Deneuve. “But I know I’m going to hate what we find on Leoxval. Even blowing the Ax’Kol to pieces won’t be enough.”

“You can’t let it get to you, Commander,” said Grisham. “We haven’t even made it through the dark sphere yet.”

“Don’t worry about me, sir,” said Deneuve.

“The 10th Sector Fleet has just exited lightspeed, Captain,” said Lopez. “The closest vessel is at ten thousand klicks and the farthest is at twenty-thousand.”

Grisham spared them only a glance. It was hard to believe the dark sphere would be able to withstand the firepower of so many warships, let alone a sustained bombardment lasting months. But believe it he did.

“I had to come here to see the sphere with my own eyes,” he repeated. “And in case the Voltran’s sensors could detect what lies beneath. Give me a run-down of what Leoxval was like when the Kijol last saw it, Lieutenant Lopez.”

“The planet’s diameter is sixteen thousand klicks, which means the sphere extends twelve thousand klicks above the surface,” said Lopez. “The Kijol haven’t told us how many of their citizens used to live here. Billions, I guess. I doubt the specifics matter too much.”

“What else do we know?” asked Grisham.

“There are three main continents and the surface is approximately fifty-percent water,” said Lopez. “I don’t think the data Admiral Kiolzan provided is going have any tactical value - especially since it’s decades out of date.”

“I understand that, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “I’m trying to build a picture in my mind.”

“We’ll just have to get in there, Captain,” said Deneuve. “And take things as they come.”

Grisham nodded. “I can’t see a reason for us to delay any longer. Make Admiral Kiolzan aware we’re going to attempt a lightspeed jump into the sphere.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez. “The Admiral acknowledges. He also suggests we aim our arrival low above the planet’s northern ocean. If there’s any place where we’ll escape notice, it’s there.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” said Grisham. “Lieutenant Adler, prepare the Voltran.”

“Yes, sir. Three minutes and we’ll be on our way.”

“What if lightspeed doesn’t get us into the sphere?” asked Bishop.

“It will,” said Grisham confidently.

With the seconds counting down, Grisham entered the centre of the Voltran’s mind again. The miasma was still there, and the other souls were contributing to it now. Since before his kidnap and incarceration, he’d believed the Voltran was evolving. Here was another sign of it.

He withdrew from the consciousness and readied himself. Already the lightspeed timer was below thirty seconds. He’d been away longer than he imagined.

“Get ready,” Grisham muttered.

He felt an emotion that was more akin to excitement than fear. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he waited for the lightspeed drive to fire.

“Ten seconds,” said Adler. “Five.”

The Voltran’s propulsion hurled the warship into lightspeed for the briefest of moments. Every sensor array went offline and Grisham watched for the feeds to re-establish themselves.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered anxiously.

The arrays began gathering data again and the feeds were of pure darkness. In less than a second, the hardware had adjusted to the absence of light and Grisham saw that the Voltran was less than a thousand metres above a tempestuous ocean. Strong winds whipped the angry waters into a spray and huge waves rolled eastwards. Overhead, the skies were a sheet of black that went on forever.

“No sign of enemy warships, Captain,” said Bishop.

“And no sign of land from our current position,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “According to the data we received from Admiral Kiolzan, the nearest coastline is two thousand klicks directly south.”

“Will our comms penetrate the sphere?” asked Grisham.

“I’m attempting contact with the 10th Sector Fleet, sir,” said Lopez. She swore. “We’re not picking up any open receptors.”

“It’s what we were expecting,” said Grisham.

He was quiet for a moment as he considered his options. It was a relief to have bypassed the dark sphere without emerging into an immediate high-pressure situation. The lack of comms was a pain in the ass, but it was something he’d have to work with.

“So how would the Ax’Kol communicate in and out of the dark sphere?” he asked out of curiosity. “Surely they won’t have allowed themselves to be comms blind.”

“I don’t see why not, sir,” said Bishop. “If the mission goals for this sphere are well defined, the Ax’Kol might conceivably rely on updates brought in by their warships.”

“Or they might have a dedicated comms router that can transmit through the sphere,” said Lopez.

“I guess it doesn’t matter one way or the other,” said Grisham. “We have to locate and destroy the sphere generator. Once that’s done, Admiral Kiolzan will know what to do.” He took a breath. “It’s time to go exploring and see what we can find.”

“South?” asked Deneuve.

Grisham nodded. “South.” He instructed the Voltran to rotate so that its nose was aimed that way. At the same time, he reduced altitude further, until the warship’s underside was only three hundred metres above the ocean. The water was coated in a thick, oily layer, which was likely formed from the decayed remains of the ocean’s plant and animal life.

Under Grisham’s control, the Voltran accelerated to a velocity that would bring it to the nearest coast in less than ten minutes. While he was on edge and wanted to get things moving, he knew that slow and steady was the best approach.

“No clouds in the sky,” said Lopez.

“And there’ll be no life on the planet either,” said Deneuve. “Not after seventy years enclosed in this sphere, with no light whatsoever.”

The Voltran skimmed across the ocean. While the warship’s sensors could operate in total darkness, the interpreted colours were muted and dull, like everything was seen through a fine mesh of grey cloth. Grisham had only been at Leoxval for a short time and already he hated what the Ax’Kol had done to the place.

“Two minutes and we’ll see the coast, sir,” said Lopez. “We’re heading directly for what was once one of the largest cities on the planet – a place called Daroan.”

Grisham didn’t much want to see what was left of Daroan and he was tempted to change course to go around the city. Mentally cursing, he held steady. Leoxval had been taken by the Ax’Kol. At some point, he’d have to witness the result.

The coastline and the high towers of Daroan appeared on the southern horizon. It was immediately apparent that the city had suffered greatly. While the damage to some of the buildings was only superficial, many more had been completely wrecked. As the Voltran neared, the extent of it became clear. Gradually increasing the warship’s altitude, Grisham piloted the vessel over the tops of the buildings.

“Shit, what a mess,” said Adler.

A Kijol warship – an old-looking Aeon destroyer from the looks of it – had crashed down on the western outskirts of Daroan. It had evidently hit the ground at an oblique and its impact had created a huge furrow through the city’s structures. The effects of the shockwave were visible for many kilometres and the structures nearest the warship’s final resting place had been turned into rubble.

Elsewhere, missiles had torn into office blocks and accommodation domes alike. Roads and bridges were gone, and three huge ocean-going ships had been sunk east, in the city’s natural harbour. Deserted gravity vehicles clogged the roads in every direction.

The sight of it made Grisham feel a profound sadness – a sadness which was more acute than the emotions he’d felt at either Vinxilkx or Savixor. He didn’t know why – perhaps it was because this had happened so long ago, and here it was, frozen in time, yet locked away so that those who mourned had never had the chance to visit this mass grave, nor to really know what had become of those they’d lost.

“Let’s get away from here,” said Grisham. “The Voltran knows this city and it doesn’t want to stick around either.”

Daroan was huge and it went on and on for many kilometres. Grisham was sure that hundreds of millions had once lived here, and now they were gone – slaughtered by the Ax’Kol and turned into something else. Perhaps some of those dead had become part of the Voltran’s consciousness. He could feel the warship seething and he didn’t know what would happen if the vessel’s mind lost control, or even if it was capable of doing so.

At last, the city fell behind and the Voltran crossed an area of stony ground. Nothing grew here – nothing could – but the signs of civilisation remained. Roads criss-crossed and low stone walls demarked areas which had likely once been fields of crops. In one area, a few kilometres west, a huge area was covered in withered trees. Their leaves were gone, but the dead wood remained in defiance of everything.

“Still no sign of Ax’Kol warships, Captain,” said Lopez.

“They’re safe and protected within this sphere, Lieutenant, so they have no need to patrol the skies,” said Grisham. “But they’re here.”

As he spoke, he realised he could sense the enemy’s presence, though it was only a whisper at the edges of his mind. When he tried to focus on the sense – to bring it to the fore – it slipped out of his reach.

“Do you know where they are, Captain?” asked Deneuve, watching him carefully.

“No,” said Grisham. “We’ll have to keep looking.”

“On our current heading, we’ll pass near another city in less than three minutes,” said Lopez. “This continent was the second most populous of the three on Leoxval.”

Grisham held the Voltran on the same course. If he didn’t run into the Ax’Kol soon, he’d have to change his approach. At this low altitude, it would take time to scan every part of the surface, but a higher altitude had the potential to bring the warship into contact with too many of the enemy at the same time due to the increased visibility. In reality, the Voltran’s disguise was either going to work or it wasn’t and the only way to find out was by testing it.

“We’re going to a five-hundred-klick altitude,” said Grisham.

The Voltran climbed, high above the planet. From here, the view of the desolation was far more extensive. Four ruined cities lay in a near-straight line far to the south-east, and several others were visible on the dead, grey surface of Leoxval.

After a time, the south coast of the continent came into sight and Grisham maintained course towards it. A narrow sea, about five hundred kilometres across, separated this land mass from the largest of the planet’s continents.

The Voltran flew across the water, which was no less turbulent than that of the northern ocean. A range of mountains came almost to the coast of the third continent, and they went south-west until they were gone over the horizon. Two cities nestled in the foothills, one on the coast and one on the far side of the mountains.

Not far from the second city was the remains of a Kijol military base. The installation’s vast landing field had been stuck by countless missiles, while the shipbuilding facilities had been utterly destroyed by the deployment of an explosive device which had left a crater more than eight kilometres in diameter. That same explosive had flattened almost everything else in the base, and the rubble was scattered for dozens of kilometres all around.

“I’ve detected an Ax’Kol warship, Captain,” said Lopez. “It’s south-east at a similar altitude to us.” She was quiet for less than a second. “I’ve located two additional Ax’Kol vessels.”

Grisham’s instinct was to reduce velocity, in order to give himself more time to plan his approach. He didn’t want to do anything that would give the game away, so he held course and velocity. More Ax’Kol warships became visible to the sensors.

With his jaw tightly clenched, Grisham watched the feeds. Then, something appeared which was so far beyond his comprehension of what was possible, that all he could do was stare.

ELEVEN

A spaceship of near-black hung motionless at a two-hundred-kilometre altitude above the barren surface of Leoxval. The flanks of this vessel curved outwards, while its visible topsides were flat. A raised protrusion, with no apparent purpose, ran all along those topsides from the nose to the stern. That stern was vertically flat, while the structure of the vessel narrowed steadily towards the nose. Grisham saw other protrusions like huge posts, that stuck out from the flanks and undersides.

It was the vast, incomprehensive size of the spaceship that threatened to inflict Grisham with a sense of despair. At almost twelve thousand metres in length and a with mass he didn’t want to estimate, it dwarfed even the Engarvax corpse carrier from Savixor.

The Voltran recognized the enemy craft. Inojor, it thought, as if the memory had been torn free from a place it had long been hidden. Death factory. Not only did the Voltran know the Inojor, it hated it too - hated it with the cold intensity of a billion murdered people.

Many Ax’Kol warships, large and small, surrounded the Inojor. As the Voltran approached, Grisham saw two Indredalus battleships, as well as other vessels which he guessed were the enemy equivalent of heavy cruisers.

“That’s way too much hardware for us to handle,” said Deneuve.

“And if we bring this sphere down, Admiral Kiolzan might wish he had a bigger fleet,” said Adler.

“There’s been no mind-to-mind contact yet, Captain,” said Bishop.

“It’ll come,” said Grisham.

The closest Ax’Kol warship was hardly more than a thousand kilometres away when the first handshake request was sent to the Voltran. Moments later, a second handshake request was sent from a different source.

“Any idea if our responses to those handshakes were convincing?” asked Kinsey.

“We’ll soon find out,” said Grisham.

“Is there a plan here, Captain?” asked Deneuve.

“Not yet,” said Grisham.

“We’re facing thirty-seven Ax’Kol warships in total,” said Lopez. “Including the Inojor.”

The enemy warships were arrayed around the death factory, and not one of them was in motion. Far below them all, four Kijol cities and a dozen smaller towns were visible on the planet’s surface. Grisham ground his teeth together as he viewed the scene.

“Is there any way to tell if the Inojor is creating the dark sphere?” he asked.

“No, Captain,” said Adler. “Our instrumentation is reading nothing whatsoever from its hull. It can’t have a zero output, so it must be shielded.”

Grisham cursed at the uncertainty and he tried desperately to come up with a plan. On the Voltran’s current heading, the warship would pass within a hundred kilometres of this Ax’Kol fleet. Certainly the enemy forces were too strong to attack, but he didn’t know if they would become suspicious if he piloted the Voltran away from them.

“We’ve received no additional handshake requests, Captain,” said Bishop. “And there’s no sign the Ax’Kol are readying for hostile action against us.”

“We can’t stop,” said Grisham. “If the Inojor is creating the sphere, this mission is effectively over. We’ll continue our search of the planet, in case we find the generator hardware elsewhere.”

“I’m not hopeful,” said Deneuve.

“Nor am I, Commander. If we can’t locate the hardware, we’ll abort the mission and lightspeed out of the sphere. That’s going to reflect badly on us and the Human Federation, but we won’t have any choice.”

Grisham didn’t alter course and held the Voltran steady. He intended to fly straight by the Ax’Kol fleet and continue his search for the sphere generator hardware, while avoiding this area of the planet. The closest enemy warship was within five hundred kilometres and he felt a cold sweat prickling his scalp. Although the Voltran had so far gone unrecognized as an imposter, Grisham felt incredibly exposed.

“Steady,” he said under his breath.

“We received a mind comm from that northernmost Indredalus, Captain,” said Bishop. “This time it wasn’t a handshake request.”

Grisham swore and queried the Voltran’s consciousness. “The enemy battleship has instructed us to join with the fleet.” He swore again.

“Are we going instruct the Voltran’s mind to send a response?” asked Lopez.

For a split second, Grisham didn’t know what to do. The more the Voltran was required to interact with the other Ax’Kol warships, the greater the chance it would be found out. Certainly, he didn’t want to get into an argument with a primary vessel like that Indredalus, but if he kept on going for the horizon, the enemy was sure to come after him. From that moment, any chance of escaping the sphere at lightspeed would be gone.

“Let’s join the enemy fleet,” Grisham said.

He reduced velocity and altered course, aiming for a place near the centre of the enemy fleet that was hardly more than a hundred kilometres from the Inojor’s portside flank.

If I’m going to hide in plain sight, I may as well make a good job of it.

Despite the bravado of his thoughts, Grisham knew the mission was going rapidly south. He couldn’t imagine a way to escape from the situation – since it was impossible to surreptitiously warm up for a lightspeed jump – and that meant it was only a matter of time before the Ax’Kol realised the Voltran shouldn’t be here. The mire was deep and that was the truth.

“What the hell are we going to do, Captain?” said Kinsey.

“If a plan comes to me, I’ll let you know, Lieutenant,” said Grisham irritably.

The Ax’Kol warships were separated by gaps of at least twenty kilometres and it was easy enough for Grisham to pilot the Voltran into their midst. With a total of six enemy vessels closer than fifty kilometres, he brought the Voltran to a standstill.

Ninety-five kilometres to starboard, the Inojor was a monstrous, part-alloy, part-biological abomination. Grisham stared at this colossal spaceship for a time. It was fitted with external armaments – Death missile clusters and plenty of Punisher gauss turrets – but not in such numbers that it was likely intended for frontline combat duties. Of course that would be right, since the Voltran knew this opponent as a factory, not a warship. Even so, Grisham was sure the Inojor’s true strength lay in the power of its minds, rather than the quantity of its guns.

“There’s a single bay door in the Inojor’s facing flank, Captain,” said Lopez. “I didn’t see it until I enhanced the feed.”

Grisham accessed the enhanced feed. “That door is huge,” he said. The door was rectangular in shape and positioned much closer to the Inojor’s nose than it was the stern. “Six klicks long and two high – the Voltran could fly right in without coming anywhere near to scraping the sides.”

“Do you think that’s where the Ax’Kol create their warships, sir?” asked Bishop.

“I reckon,” said Grisham. “And who knows what other crap they build in there.”

“Not the Engarvax carriers,” said Lopez. “I can’t see into the bay, but I don’t think there’d be space inside to build a vessel with the same dimensions as the one on Savixor. Certainly an Engarvax wouldn’t fit through the visible bay door.”

“Maybe the carriers are built in separate parts and joined together elsewhere,” said Bishop.

“Maybe,” said Grisham. He wanted to believe the Ax’Kol didn’t have anything in their fleet that was larger than the Inojor, but it was hard not to imagine they might.

“Speak of the devil,” said Lopez. “An Engarvax has just emerged from lightspeed about eight thousand klicks from our position.”

Grisham accessed the feed, where he saw another of the Ax’Kol corpse carriers, high above Leoxval and far to the east. This Engarvax was seemingly identical to the one from Savixor. It was eight thousand metres in length, with high, slightly curved flanks and its undersides forming a shallow V-shape. Having exited lightspeed, the carrier accelerated and then banked towards the stationary Ax’Kol fleet.

“It’s heading our way,” said Lopez.

“Of course it is,” said Grisham sourly. “Another cherry on the cake.”

The Engarvax approached at a leisurely velocity. Grisham was linked to the tactical and the course overlay for the inbound carrier indicated it would pass directly through the Voltran’s current position. When the Engarvax was less than five hundred kilometres away, two of the smaller Ax’Kol vessels on the edges of the fleet accelerated a short distance north to allow the carrier to pass without having to deviate from its course.

Grisham knew he could be a stubborn bastard and he held the Voltran exactly where it was. If the Engarvax wanted to come this way, it could damn well change course.

“This is probably not the best time to get into a staring competition, Captain,” said Deneuve.

She was right. Grisham reluctantly piloted the Voltran three kilometres vertically and brought it once again to a standstill. The Engarvax flew directly beneath, its Punisher-studded topsides passing within five hundred metres of the Voltran. Twenty kilometres starboard, the enemy vessel slowed and then rotated smoothly so that it was exactly parallel to the Inojor. After that, it came to a halt.

“I hate to be the one to tell you what you already know, sir, but we need to get out of here,” said Adler.

“I know it, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “If one of you has a suggestion as to how we accomplish such a feat, I’m listening.”

“We have little choice other than to wait,” said Deneuve. “If the dark sphere is impenetrable to the Ax’Kol’s enemies, there’s no need for them to keep so many warships here at Leoxval. It seems to me they’ll be sent off on a mission at some point. When it happens, maybe we’ll be able to exit the sphere without any of the other warships noticing.”

“I don’t much like waiting, Commander,” said Grisham. “There again, I don’t much like the thought of being killed either, so I’m forced to agree you.”

“We’ll be found out eventually, Captain,” said Lopez. “So let’s hope we don’t have to wait long.”

“If the worst happens, we’ll do as much damage as we can to these other warships before they blow us to pieces,” said Grisham.

Despite his words, Grisham didn’t any romantic notions about going down in a blaze of glory. He wanted to escape from Leoxval and return to the Human Federation with his warship intact. Unfortunately – assuming he did manage to get away from this planet – he wouldn’t be returning with much in the way of goodwill from the Kijol.

They’ve had seventy years to destroy this dark sphere. They can go screw themselves if they start pointing the finger at the Human Federation for not pulling it off first try.

Grisham realised he was still in the habit of thinking the Kijol were the enemy. Perhaps, he thought, it was time to cut them a little slack, particularly since the corpses of their own citizens were being used to create warships to fight against them.

“The Inojor’s flank door is opening, Captain,” said Lopez.

“Let me see that,” said Grisham, accessing the starboard topside sensor feeds.

Sure enough, the vast bay door was sliding downwards into a recess in the death factory’s hull. Grisham watched intently, to see what would be revealed of the bay within.

“There’s a warship growing inside the Inojor,” he said in disgust.

Grisham could only stare. The bay door was completely open and he could see directly into the Inojor’s bay. In the centre of the cavernous space was another Indredalus. Hundreds of huge, thick, biological cables sprouted from Inojor’s bay walls, and connected with battleship’s hull. Those cables were pure black in colour and they pulsed with energy.

Elsewhere in the bay, shuttles of a type Grisham hadn’t seen before, flew from place to place. Some carried immense objects suspended by gravity chains, while others had no purpose he could discern.

“The Indredalus looks finished,” Grisham said.

“There’s a bunch of shuttles heading over from the Engarvax, sir,” said Bishop.

The carrier’s bay doors were hidden from view, but they’d evidently opened to allow a half-dozen vessels to depart. Those vessels were huge transports, each of which looked capable of holding a billion or more corpses. And that, Grisham believed, was exactly what they were carrying.

He was sickened by these events, but he couldn’t allow himself to stop watching. The more the Human Federation knew of the Ax’Kol, the better-placed it would be to defend itself against this foe.

Before the shuttles were halfway across the intervening space, the cables within the Inojor’s bay began separating from the hull of the Indredalus. To Grisham’s revulsion, those cables seemed to have their own muscular control and they wrapped themselves into tight coils before disappearing into the upper and lower areas of the bay that were not visible through the open bay door.

Then, the Indredalus accelerated laterally into the skies of Leoxval. It halted for a moment, a short distance from the Inojor. Then, it descended eighty kilometres and once again came to a standstill.

As this was happening, the six transports from the Engarvax flew into the death factory’s bay. Grisham hoped he wouldn’t see the cargo. More than anything he hoped it.

Having entered the Inojor’s bay, the six transports descended until they were out of sight.

“We should probably reposition to see what’s happening,” said Deneuve, her voice making it clear she didn’t want Grisham to listen. “So we gain an understanding of the process.”

Grisham was about reply when he was caught off-guard by something entirely unexpected. Through his link to the Voltran, he sensed an incoming command from an Ax’Kol mind. This mind was nothing like any of the others. Its power was vast and it was intelligent too, rather than being a mere vassal. Grisham wasn’t sure if it was his own burgeoning telepathy which allowed him to sense more, but he detected a cruelty and a malice beyond anything he’d ever known. The Inojor was sentient and it was terrible.

Worst of all, it had just ordered the Voltran into its bay.

TWELVE

“We’re in trouble, folks,” said Grisham.

“Are you going to accept the command, sir?” asked Deneuve.

Grisham closed his eyes for a moment and tried to grasp everything he’d sensed from the Inojor’s mind. Nothing of what he’d felt from the warship was directed at the Voltran or its crew, he was sure of it. Equally, the enemy vessel didn’t need subterfuge - if it wanted the Voltran destroyed, it could order the other Ax’Kol warships to do the dirty work.

“I don’t know why the Inojor wants us in that bay, but I didn’t get a feeling it knows the Voltran has been subverted,” said Grisham.

“I didn’t feel anything,” Bishop admitted. “The Voltran interpreted the command for me, but that’s all I got.”

“Same here,” said Lopez.

This was one of those situations that required a quick decision. Grisham doubted the Inojor would be pleased if it had to issue its command for a second time, and the consequences of that displeasure would not be positive. The choice was therefore a straightforward one between opening fire on the Ax’Kol fleet and hoping to knock a couple of them out before the Voltran was overwhelmed, or do as the Inojor had ordered.

“We’re going into the bay,” said Grisham.

He instructed the Voltran to accelerate starboard. The Engarvax was in the way and Grisham felt a grim and puerile satisfaction when the carrier descended out of the way. When the Inojor commanded, it seemed like every vessel in the Ax’Kol fleet was eager to please.

“What the hell does it want with us?” wondered Deneuve.

“I bet it’s going to repair us!” said Adler, as if he’d been struck by an epiphany. “The Voltran’s exterior isn’t fully healed from our engagement at Savixor.”

Grisham couldn’t think of a better explanation and he hoped Adler was right. However, his instincts weren’t convinced. Whichever way Grisham looked at it, he would prefer to be outside the Inojor than in its bay.

As the Voltran approached, the size disparity between the battleship and the death factory became ever more apparent. The Inojor would have been horrifying had it been constructed entirely of alloy, but the reality was far worse.

“On the plus side, I’d rather be here than back on Sagitol,” said Grisham.

When the Voltran was only ten kilometres from the bay, its sensors had enough of a viewing angle to see the half-dozen shuttles which had flown here from the Engarvax. Those shuttles were deep down within the Inojor and Grisham couldn’t yet be sure what exactly they were doing.

“In we go,” he said.

The bay opening was far larger than the Voltran and it wasn’t difficult to pilot the battleship inside. The moment Grisham brought the vessel to a halt, the bay door rose from out of its recess. In less than twenty seconds, the Voltran was sealed within the Inojor.

During that short time, Grisham switched between the sensor feeds to gain an idea of what he’d brought everyone into.

The death factory’s bay wasn’t much larger lengthwise than the six-thousand-metre door, but its ceiling was a thousand metres above the opening and the floor a thousand metres below. Widthwise, the bay was almost four thousand metres. The Voltran would have fitted inside several times over.

The bay was a vile place. Its walls were curved but with faint biological imperfections. Overhead, the dozens of cables Grisham had seen earlier were coiled against the ceiling, along with hundreds of much smaller ones. Alloy posts were also visible, jutting out among the coils.

On the floor beneath the Voltran, twelve enormous metal hoppers rose about a hundred metres into the bay. The shuttles from the Engarvax currently hovered over six of these hoppers and, though Grisham couldn’t see it happening, he was sure that corpses would be spilling from underside hatches and into the Inojor’s underbelly storage areas. What manner of iniquity would befall the dead at this, their final destination, didn’t bear thinking about.

Grisham knew he was at luck’s mercy and all he could do was wait to find out what the death factory had planned. So far, nothing was happening, but he didn’t expect that situation to last.

“This bay is massive, but it’s only a fraction of the Inojor’s volume,” said Adler. “Even if we assume the dark sphere generator is huge, there could be plenty of room inside this factory to accommodate it.”

“Along with some other crap we don’t know about and can’t begin to guess at,” said Grisham.

“This death factory has probably been here for the last seventy years, building the Ax’Kol fleet, while the corpse carriers keep it topped up,” said Deneuve. She shook her head, not quite able to believe it. “And now it’s us inside the factory.”

“Fortunately, we aren’t dead,” said Grisham. “We might yet have a chance to get out of here – unlike the poor bastards in those transport shuttles.”

As he was speaking, the coils against the ceiling unfurled, while those on the floor between the hopper openings began rising like snakes from a basket. Slowly and carefully, they extended until dozens of them hovered only a short distance from the Voltran’s hull.

The Inojor linked once more to the Voltran’s mind and then withdrew.

“We’re about to be modified,” said Grisham. “What the hell?”

He couldn’t begin to imagine what those modifications would be or what they would entail. As one, the waiting cables thrust themselves against the Voltran’s hull. They began pulsing at once and, as he watched, Grisham was left with the impression they were burrowing deep into his warship’s biological armour and pumping it full of fluids.

The Voltran’s consciousness reported no damage to its exterior and, though it was aware of this intrusion, it seemed entirely detached from the process. This came as little surprise to Grisham – the Voltran had been created in such a way that damage to its hull caused it no concern. After all, a warship which feared damage or destruction would be unpredictable in combat.

“Our monitoring tools aren’t giving any readings for what’s happening here,” said Adler. “I don’t know why that is.”

“The Voltran’s maker has full control over the hardware,” said Grisham.

He experienced a sudden, fleeting concern that the Inojor might interrogate his warship’s mind and thereby discover that the Voltran was no longer under Ax’Kol control. Few disguises held up under close scrutiny.

Although he could do nothing to influence what was happening, Grisham kept a close eye on the Voltran’s mind, for any indication that it was being inspected or queried. He detected no sign of intrusion.

“Those cables aren’t installing any new hardware,” said Deneuve.

“Maybe they’re updating our control systems,” said Grisham.

“Our existing systems are currently untouched,” said Adler.

“I thought you said you weren’t getting any readings, Lieutenant.”

“I’m not, Captain, but I’m sure that’s because something new is being installed, and it isn’t currently linked to the monitoring systems.”

“Would you like to speculate on what that something new might be?” asked Grisham.

“No, sir.”

With no idea how long the modifications would take, Grisham was left on edge. The best he could hope was for the process to be completed quickly and for the Voltran to then be sent from the Inojor’s bay. Extensive and time-consuming modifications would surely increase the chance of discovery.

Even if the work was soon done, the Voltran would still be stuck here on Leoxval and in the middle of an enemy fleet. Grisham didn’t have a plan to get out of that mess either.

An hour passed. The immense bay door opened and the transports from the Engarvax departed. The door closed again with no order coming from the Inojor for the Voltran to leave. Grisham couldn’t help but check the underside sensor feeds which were aimed at the corpse hoppers on the bay floor. Mercifully, the chutes beneath the hoppers had closed up, blocking his view.

“I wonder if some of those corpses are being used to modify the Voltran,” said Lopez.

“I don’t want to think too hard about it, Lieutenant,” said Grisham.

Nobody said anything else on the subject, but it was clearly what everyone was thinking about. Although the Voltran had become a weapon against its creators, Grisham still hadn’t entirely come to terms with the warship’s origins.

Another two hours went by. With nothing else to do, Grisham and his crew discussed the likely outcome of unleashing an attack on the Inojor’s interior. While the Voltran could certainly inflict some significant damage to the bay – likely putting it out of action until the Inojor repaired itself – the consensus was that the dark sphere generator would probably escape destruction. The Voltran’s missiles and psionic: wither attacks would not penetrate far enough to wreck anything more than a few hundred metres beyond the forward and aft bulkheads.

However, an attack remained an option, though Grisham thought it too risky in the circumstances. He believed that by playing the situation right, there was a greater chance of escaping Leoxval without having the Voltran destroyed and everyone onboard killed.

“And I got a sense of the Inojor’s mind,” he concluded. “It was cold and dark and beyond anything I’ve experienced during our encounters with the Ax’Kol so far.”

“Was it beyond the Voltran?” asked Lopez.

Grisham nodded. “Without a doubt, Lieutenant. The Inojor’s mind scared me, I’m not ashamed to admit it. We came here to help the Kijol, not to fight an Ax’Kol fleet single-handed, nor to face off against one of their capital ships. Once we get out of the dark sphere, we can rethink.”

“And return for a second try?” said Deneuve with a glint in her eye.

“Not without backup, Commander. Hell no.”

“Captain, some of those cables have withdrawn from our hull,” said Adler. “Eight are still connected.”

“Any sign of what those modifications are, Lieutenant?” asked Grisham. He was linked to the feeds and the cables which had pulled away were already coiling up against the ceiling and the floor.

“No, sir. I have a feeling those last cables might be finishing the tie-ins.”

“I’m not sure I want to know the outcome of the modifications,” said Deneuve.

Grisham had the same unease. He couldn’t imagine the Inojor had made any alterations that he’d welcome. The Voltran was his warship and he liked it just as it was.

Events moved quickly.

“Sir, we’ve received an instruction to warm up our lightspeed drive!” said Adler. “It’s a synch code – we’re commanded to leave the dark sphere along with some other warships! The activation time is five minutes!”

“How many other warships are coming with us?” asked Grisham.

“I don’t know, sir. That data isn’t contained within the synch code. The journey time will be three days and the Voltran doesn’t know what lies at its destination. Should I accept the code?”

“Damn right you should accept it,” said Grisham.

“That’s done, sir.”

“We’re still plugged into the damned Inojor,” said Bishop.

“Not for long, I reckon,” said Adler.

“Is there a way to prevent the synch code being withdrawn?” asked Grisham. “Since we’re about to leave the dark sphere, I’d hate for our escape to be cancelled at the last moment.”

“The withdrawal request would have to be routed through the Voltran’s mind, and since we’re in control of that—”

“Good,” said Grisham. “Keep an eye on the countdown - it looks as if we’re getting out of here.”

“But with a bunch of other warships,” said Lopez.

“They don’t know we’re an imposter, Lieutenant,” said Grisham.

“I’d like to know where we’re going,” said Deneuve. “The Inojor might be sending us to attack a Kijol world.”

“That seems likely, Commander,” said Grisham. “It could be we’ve been given a chance to help the Kijol after all.”

He smiled at the thought. While the mission to collapse the dark sphere had effectively failed, Grisham would be ecstatic if he could still accomplish his primary goal – that being to show the Kijol it was better to work with the Human Federation than fight against it.

Grisham was pondering developments, when the final cables withdrew from the Voltran’s hull. Through the interface, he felt the presence of a second mind in his warship.

Oh shit. That’s what the modifications were.

With this abrupt change of circumstances, Grisham’s future was once more plunged into uncertainty. When he’d learned that the Inojor was planning to modify the Voltran, he hadn’t for one moment thought it would be to install a second mind – a mind that would be under Ax’Kol control.

Grisham cursed that his life was never easy.

THIRTEEN

The new mind was Ax’Kol tainted and it was currently dormant. Grisham doubted it would remain so for long. Tentatively, he tried to link with it, and he came up against the grey.

“Three minutes and the lightspeed drive activates!” said Adler.

The words prompted Grisham to withdraw from the second mind. Sooner rather than later he’d have to deal with it, but he didn’t know how long that would take – or even if he could replicate the feat which had first allowed him to free the Voltran from its Ax’Kol shackles. Furthermore, he didn’t want to risk alerting the Inojor by intruding himself into the new mind.

A bad situation went downhill.

“Sir, a door has opened in the aft wall of the bay,” said Lopez. “There’s a shuttle heading out.”

Grisham accessed the feed. The shuttle was less than twenty metres in length and it was accelerating directly for the Voltran. “Assholes!” he swore. “They’re intending to dock with us.”

“We only have one free bay, Captain,” said Lopez. “I can deny them access to it.”

This was a disastrous development. That shuttle wasn’t empty – he could sense the Ax’Kol it was carrying. They planned to board the Voltran. When that happened, they’d kill everyone, but if Grisham denied them access to dock, the Inojor would quickly realise that the Voltran was no longer under Ax’Kol control.

Grisham found himself in a position where it was impossible to know what he should do for the best. Perhaps there could be no favourable outcome to this.

“In less than three minutes we’ll be out of here,” said Adler. “That’s how long we need to keep the Inojor in the dark.”

“But we can’t let that shuttle dock,” said Grisham. “Lieutenant Lopez, seal the docking bay entrance.”

“Command sent,” said Lopez. “Shit. The bay door accepted the command, but then it unlocked again.”

“The new mind,” said Grisham. He reached out his senses and detected its interference. “It’s no longer dormant.”

“Can you shut it down, Captain?” asked Adler. “Or bring it over to our side?”

“I don’t know,” said Grisham. “Maybe, with enough time.” He shook his head uncertainly.

“Should I lock the docking bay entrance again, sir?”

“Do it,” said Grisham.

“Locked…and unlocked,” said Lopez.

“We can’t keep doing this and hope nobody will notice, Captain,” said Deneuve.

“The alternative is we open fire,” said Grisham.

“If that’s what it takes, sir.”

Grisham felt backed into a corner – but a corner from which he had no hope of fighting his way clear. He’d been in many near-death situations before, but on each of those occasions, he’d always known there was a chance as long as he stayed on top of his game. Here, he couldn’t see a way out.

The shuttle stopped midway across the bay, as if its crew were aware there was a problem. Once again, Grisham reached out with his mind. All of a sudden, it seemed natural. There were eight Ax’Kol on the shuttle.

“These are our replacements heading over,” he said.

“Does the Inojor know we’re on the Voltran?” asked Deneuve.

“I don’t think so, Commander. The Voltran has been upgraded. Maybe it needs a higher class of crew.”

“We’re the best there is,” said Bishop.

“Damn right,” said Grisham. “And we have to fight for what’s ours.” The shuttle accelerated from its standstill. “Lieutenant Lopez, lock the bay entrance.”

“Yes, sir. Bay entrance locked. Bay entrance unlocked.”

“Two minutes on the lightspeed timer, Captain,” said Adler.

It was two minutes too long. While the Ax’Kol were running out of time to physically destroy the Voltran before it entered lightspeed, it was the Inojor’s mind Grisham was worried about. He was sure it could shut down the Voltran if it exerted sufficient effort. Then, his warship wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“Lock the bay door again and keep locking it,” said Grisham. It was the best plan he could muster.

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez.

Without warning, the Inojor projected its mind into the Voltran. Grisham felt the enemy’s power as it peered into the bridge. It was a crushing weight of alien malice. Acting on instinct and without quite knowing what he was doing, Grisham projected a mental image of the Voltran’s crew as he remembered them. He imagined them standing at the interface posts and he forced the Inojor to see what he was thinking. Grisham thought thoughts of obedience.

It required a monumental effort and the Inojor maintained its scrutiny. Grisham’s mental strength faded rapidly and in moments the enemy would see the truth. In a flash, he knew what he had to do.

“Lieutenant Lopez, let the Ax’Kol dock,” he said.

“Sir? Yes, sir. The bay doors are unlocked.”

For long seconds, the Inojor watched the bridge. Grisham needed it to stay here – if it looked elsewhere, it would discover Sergeant Maxwell and the soldiers, or it might realise the Voltran’s mind was no longer under Ax’Kol control.

“One minute on the lightspeed timer, Captain.”

“The Ax’Kol shuttle is docked,” said Bishop.

As quickly as it came, the Inojor withdrew and Grisham felt like he’d been relieved of an incredible weight. His head pounded and his eyes were stinging as if some of their capillaries had ruptured with the strain.

“Captain, what the hell are we going to do now?” asked Adler. “Those Ax’Kol will kill us.”

Grisham had a different outcome in mind. Quickly, he explained what he intended. Deneuve’s jaw dropped open.

“That’s—” She shook her head.

“What choice did I have?” Grisham demanded.

“There could be thirty Ax’Kol on that shuttle, Captain,” said Adler.

“There are eight,” he said.

“How do you know?” asked Lopez.

“I just know,” said Grisham. “I can sense their minds from here.”

“On Sagitol you could only—” Deneuve started.

“I know,” said Grisham, cutting her off.

“We have now entered lightspeed,” said Adler.

Grisham pictured the internal layout of the Voltran. The quickest route to the bridge was right down the centre. That meant he and his crew would have to be elsewhere.

“Lieutenant Lopez, contact Sergeant Maxwell,” he said. “Tell him to meet us at the mess area and to bring as much ammunition as he can carry.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez.

Grisham felt Deneuve’s eyes boring into him.

“Are you sure about this, Captain?”

“No, Commander, I’m really not,” he said. “I did what I felt had to be done.”

“Do you think you can shield us from the Ax’Kol?”

“I’ll do my best. It’ll have to be enough.” Grisham pointed at the bridge entrance. “You know how fast the Ax’Kol can run, Commander. We have to move.”

The crew left the bridge at a sprint, and Grisham tried to maintain a telepathic shield that would keep them hidden from the Ax’Kol. While he wished someone would give him an instruction manual, he was learning that his brain seemed to have an innate ability to control the telepathy. Maybe he was a natural, or maybe these were skills locked up in every human brain.

He cast his mind further afield. The Ax’Kol had exited the shuttle and they hadn’t gone far, but he couldn’t sense their exact positions. In addition, the searching added a significant extra strain to his efforts. Grisham linked to the Voltran’s original mind and the warship was able to pinpoint the Ax’Kol far better than he could.

Through the dim-lit passages of the Voltran, Grisham and his crew ran. He could hardly believe where the road had taken him and he was beset by doubt. Perhaps he should have ordered the Ax’Kol shuttle destroyed and hoped that the Voltran’s mind would resist the Inojor long enough to enter lightspeed. And yet, he was sure the Inojor was too strong.

Not only that, the Engarvax with its four minds had been parked nearby, along with all the other members of the Ax’Kol fleet. Combined, they could have shut down the Voltran by overwhelming it with psionic: suppress attacks.

The flipside was this. Grisham and his crew had escaped the dark sphere, but they were trapped on the Voltran along with eight Ax’Kol. The odds for survival weren’t good, even if he could hold his telepathic shield long enough and effectively enough for Sergeant Maxwell and the soldiers to destroy the enemy.

Unfortunately for Grisham, his problems weren’t confined to the new Ax’Kol crew.

“What about the second mind the Inojor installed, Captain?” asked Deneuve on the crew channel.

Using his link, Grisham located the new mind. At the moment, it was doing all the usual control and monitoring tasks for the Voltran’s physical hardware.

The original mind was aware of the Ax’Kol taint afflicting the second consciousness and it was seething. Not only that, its rage was growing and Grisham didn’t know where it would lead, nor if he could quell the anger.

“Something’s building, Commander,” Grisham said. “The new mind doesn’t know there’s a problem.” He hesitated. “When the new mind first came out of dormancy, I got a sense that it’s intended to be the primary for this warship. Maybe it assumes the original mind has been instructed to acquiesce.”

“This will catch us out if it’s left to fester, Captain,” said Deneuve.

“You’re right,” said Grisham. He gritted his teeth at another thought. “And when we attack the Ax’Kol crew, they might cancel the lightspeed transit. A comm to the Inojor could see the Voltran under attack in a few minutes.”

“Especially if we don’t manage to defeat the new crew quickly.”

“And even if we do, our element of surprise will be gone.” Grisham cursed. His control over the situation – already tenuous at best – was steadily slipping away. He made a decision. “I’ll order the Voltran’s original mind to lock down the new one.”

“Is that even possible?” asked Deneuve.

“We’ll soon find out. And I’ll instruct the first mind to deny any requests from the new crew. Maybe this will—” He shook his head. “Let’s just get on and see if we can make this work. I’ll hold the command until we’re ready to attack the Ax’Kol.”

By the time this conversation with Deneuve was over, Grisham and his crew were at the mess area. Maxwell and his squad were already here. They only had an outline of what was happening – enough to turn their faces grim. Grisham extended his telepathic shield around them. Increasing the shield’s radius markedly increased the strain.

“Move in,” said Grisham, waving them closer.

“Captain, what’s going on?” asked Maxwell. He had an ammo pack slung over each of his shoulders and plasma grenades dangled from the clips on both sides of his combat suit.

The whole story was too long to tell, so Grisham kept it brief. “We have eight Ax’Kol onboard, Sergeant. If you stay close to me, I can keep you hidden from them.”

“Like on Sagitol, sir?” asked Corporal Fine.

“Yes, Corporal, like on Sagitol,” said Grisham. “Don’t ask me to explain how it works, because I don’t know. The closer you stay to me, the easier it’ll be to stop the Ax’Kol detecting your minds. So don’t wander off.”

“How close, Captain?” asked Maxwell. “If we’re to kill these bastards, we’ll need some freedom to move.”

“I’m still learning this myself,” said Grisham. “Stay within five metres and we’ll see how it goes.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maxwell. He turned to make sure the other soldiers understood and then faced Grisham once more. “Is there a plan?”

“I expect the Ax’Kol will head straight for the bridge,” said Grisham. “What they’ll do when they find it empty, I can only guess.”

“We should hit them hard and early,” said Corporal Barkley.

“The bridge space isn’t massive - a rocket shot might knock half of the Ax’Kol straight out of the fight,” said Maxwell.

“We need five of the interface posts to crew the Voltran,” said Grisham. “We can’t wreck the bridge completely.”

“No, sir,” said Maxwell. “A rocket aimed to detonate against the far wall might leave enough stations intact.” He turned towards Lowe. “What do you think, Private?”

“I can land the shot, Sergeant, but I can’t promise it won’t melt the interface posts,” said Lowe.

“We have little choice,” said Grisham. “We’re going for the quick kills.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maxwell.

“And I’m putting you in command of the operation, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “Do you remember the Voltran’s former crew?”

Maxwell nodded. “They were big bastards even amongst the Ax’Kol.”

“That’s right, and this new bunch were sent to replace them,” said Grisham. “I doubt they’ll go down easy.”

“They never do, sir,” said Maxwell.

Nobody suggested running for one of the shuttles and abandoning ship, even though it would have been reasonable to do so. Grisham would have refused anyway. The Voltran was too valuable to abandon, and it was almost certainly on its way to a Kijol planet or a critical installation. If humanity and the Kijol were ever to get along, they’d need to trust each other, and saving a few million of the aliens from death to the Ax’Kol was a good way to get some of that trust in the bank.

Grisham reached out with his mind. Three of the Ax’Kol were heading directly and rapidly for the bridge, while the other five had spread out but remained aft. It wasn’t what Grisham had expected and it was a development which threatened his plans.

“I thought the Ax’Kol would all go for the bridge,” he said. “But only three are going that way. I don’t know what the rest are doing - they’re a long way from our position.”

“Are we going to wait for them, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

“I don’t know,” said Grisham. He searched for the Ax’Kol again and winced at the stabbing pain behind his eyes. “The first three should be at the bridge in less than two minutes.”

“While I’d like to hit all eight of those assholes with a single rocket, I’ve learned to take my opportunities when they’re presented,” said Maxwell.

“Me too,” said Grisham. He didn’t know the Ax’Kol well enough to predict their behaviour. If a single enemy caught wind of the soldiers and came this way, the chance to kill those on the bridge would be lost. “We’ll strike as soon as we can – we’ll hold here for sixty seconds and then head for the bridge. That way we’ll arrive shortly after the enemy.”

The seconds went by. Three Ax’Kol approached the bridge and entered, while the other five swept slowly from portside to starboard three or four hundred metres aft. Grisham didn’t know why they were behaving this way. As long as they stayed far from the soldiers, he’d be content.

“It’s time, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “My crew and I will do our best to adapt to whatever you order.”

Maxwell nodded once and then spun on his heel. The quickest way to the bridge was along the passage leading starboard and Maxwell set off at a fast walk. Grisham followed. Already he could feel the early signs of fatigue from the efforts of holding the telepathic shield.

This operation would need to be finished quickly. If it dragged on too long, Grisham’s energy would run out, his shield would fail, and the Ax’Kol crew would find the soldiers. The thought of razor-sharp talons sliding through his flesh gave Grisham plenty of motivation to stay strong.

The bridge wasn’t far.

FOURTEEN

The passage to the bridge branched forward off a corridor that ran port-to-starboard across the Voltran’s lower midsection. Like most of the corridors within the warship, this one was two metres wide and not quite three high. Space was tight for the ten soldiers and six members of the warship’s crew who were lined up against the aft wall. Sergeant Maxwell was closest to the bridge turning, and only a dozen metres from it.

The next nearest room was thirty metres starboard and it would have made sense for most of the squad and the Voltran’s crew to wait there, but Grisham wasn’t sure he could hold his telepathic shield over such a distance. Certainly, he didn’t want to exhaust himself by experimenting.

“Private Vaughan, set up here,” said Maxwell, pointing at the floor next to the corridor’s forward wall. “When Private Lowe fires his launcher into the bridge, any surviving Ax’Kol are going to coming running out and they’re going to be angry as hell. Cut them down.”

“Yes, sir,” said Vaughan.

The soldier already had a two-handed grip on his XR repeater. He snapped out the bipod mount, placed the weapon on the floor and dropped to his stomach behind it. Out of everyone, Vaughan was the most likely to be killed in the next couple of minutes.

“As soon as the rocket detonates, we’re going to run for the starboard room,” said Maxwell, indicating with his hand, in case anyone hadn’t learned to tell their left from their right. “From there, we head forward and then starboard again. If the Ax’Kol can’t detect us, we have a chance to lose them.” He smiled thinly. “We’ll have to lose them.”

“I’ve set charges at the next two corners,” said Chau. “I can detonate them remotely.”

“Maybe I should just swallow one of my grenades,” said Lyles. “It’ll be a cleaner death than having Chau blow both my legs off as I run past his explosives.”

“Enough,” said Maxwell. “I’ll be last man away from the bridge, along with Private Vaughan.” He slung his rifle and unclipped a couple of grenades. “I’ll leave a trail of these behind me.”

Maxwell looked questioningly at Grisham. It was time to put things in motion.

“Let’s do it, Sergeant,” said Grisham.

He followed Maxwell and Lowe along the corridor, leaving Vaughan and the other soldiers where they were. Five metres from the passage leading to the bridge, Grisham stopped while the other two soldiers continued. Casting his mind out, he could feel three of the Ax’Kol nearby. Five more continued to rove aft and it was a good bet they wouldn’t stay there once Lowe’s rocket went off.

Maxwell halted and peered towards the bridge. “Shit,” he muttered on the squad channel. “I can only see one Ax’Kol – it must be three metres tall. The other two are out of sight.”

“I can definitely kill the visible enemy,” said Lowe. “But the command station won’t survive, unless it’s impervious to heat.”

“Don’t worry if you break the command station - I can interface with the Voltran from anywhere,” said Grisham. It was time to deal with the problem of the warship’s twin minds. “I need you to hold for one moment, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham interfaced with the Voltran and pierced the grey surrounding the original mind. At once, the souls began forming a vortex around him. They were angry and agitated. Grisham conveyed his wishes by thought, and the souls understood. He withdrew.

“It’s time to get this done, Sergeant,” said Grisham.

Maxwell nodded, his attention still towards the bridge, and stared for a few seconds longer. He didn’t normally shy away from a fight, but he was clearly reluctant to get this one underway. The hesitation didn’t last. With a gesture, he indicated that Lowe should take his shot.

Lowe obliged. He spun up his rocket tube. The coils whined softly and the missile sped along the passage leading to the bridge. Straightaway, Maxwell hurled a grenade and then another. A flash dispelled the gloom and the whumping sound of the rocket detonation followed a split-second later. Grisham didn’t hear the grenade blasts – probably they were overwhelmed by the explosion of the rocket.

“Move!” yelled Maxwell.

Grisham hadn’t even taken a single pace, when a massive wave of bass energy swept through the Voltran. The floor beneath his feet shuddered and the walls seemed to ripple. That same energy struck his mind like a hammer blow and he fell to the floor. Instinctively, he put out his hands to reduce the impact.

Psionic: suppress, he thought. This is how the Voltran’s minds are going to fight.

“What the hell was that?” shouted Corporal Fine.

“Psionics,” said Flint. He got his feet beneath him, but his coordination hadn’t yet returned.

He saw Lowe sprinting towards him, while Maxwell lingered at the turning. Neither seemed badly affected by the psionic: suppress. Maxwell pulled another two grenades free, armed them with his thumbs and threw them into the bridge corridor. Then, he turned and ran.

Staying close to the aft wall, so as not to blunder into Vaughan’s firing line, Grisham finally found his balance and he ran unsteadily towards the starboard room. The other soldiers were ahead of him and, in the confusion, he didn’t know if he was shielding them all. His head was hurting like hell and it was hard to concentrate.

A heavy thump prompted Grisham to look over his shoulder. An Ax’Kol – a huge, dark creature with arms and legs like thick tree branches - had collided with the aft wall in its haste to hunt down whoever had attacked the bridge. The alien was ablaze with plasma and smoke from its charring flesh spilled towards the ceiling. Having struck the wall, the Ax’Kol stumbled and fell. Immediately, it tried to get up, but its legs seemed unable to bear its weight.

“I got a repeater wants to meet ya,” said Vaughan.

The XR gun droned and it spewed a fusillade of gauss slugs into the Ax’Kol. Grisham kept on running and went past Vaughan. Maxwell’s third and fourth grenades exploded one after the other in the passage. When he turned again, Grisham saw that the huge Ax’Kol was still burning fiercely and, in the light of the plasma fires, he could see pieces of its flesh being torn out by the repeater.

“Up you come,” said Maxwell. Hardly breaking stride, he stooped and hauled Vaughan to his feet. The soldier retained a grip on his repeater and brought it up with him. His feet scrabbled for purchase as he sped after the others.

“A second Ax’Kol has exited the bridge passage,” said Lyles calmly on the comms. “It’s heading our way.”

This time, Grisham didn’t look around. He concentrated on his feet and on maintaining the telepathic shield. With an effort, he searched for the Ax’Kol. Of the three on the bridge, only one was alive, while the five aliens which had stayed aft were on their way forward though at a much lower speed than he’d have imagined.

“We’ve got incoming,” said Grisham.

“Which way, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

“They’ve converged on the middle passages,” said Grisham. He grimaced at the rising pain in his head and stopped his telepathic hunt. “Let’s stick with the plan.”

Grisham dashed into the starboard room, with the thudding footsteps of Maxwell and Vaughan right behind. Lyles was at the entrance and her attention was on the passage leading to the bridge.

This room was familiar, as were all the others on the Voltran. The space was ten metres square and with a couple of interface posts protruding from the middle of the floor. A nondescript, four-metre rectangle of alloy was half-embedded in the opposite wall.

“There’s something wrong with this third Ax’Kol,” said Lyles. “It’s acting like it’s been hit on the head.”

Most of the soldiers were already running for the forward exit, but Lyles’s description made Grisham glance over his shoulder. The third Ax’Kol from the bridge was hunched and it seemed to have avoided the worst effects of the rocket blast. However, the enemy appeared unsteady and was using its arms to brace itself against the passage walls. Grisham realised that the psionic: suppress attack from one of the Voltran’s minds had affected the Ax’Kol in the same way that he’d been affected.

With a shake of its head, the enemy shrugged off the psionic: suppress. It looked ready to kill and Grisham sensed it readying a burst of speed. If it went through the forward exit from this room, it might collide with one of the soldiers. Grisham didn’t know what the outcome of that would be.

“Halt!” he yelled. “Everyone against the starboard wall!”

While Grisham knew that having two leaders could be a recipe for disaster, he had experience from Sagitol to fall back on. To his relief, Maxwell was quick to respond.

“Listen to the Captain!” he shouted at once. “Against the wall!”

As one, the soldiers changed course and they sprinted across the room. Grisham had to look over his shoulder again. As he did so, the Ax’Kol broke into a run. The speed of the creatures still had the capacity to instil fear and Grisham’s heart thumped in his chest as the alien surged through the passageway and into the starboard room. Its featureless, oval head turned this way and that.

One of the Voltran’s minds unleashed another psionic: suppress and the alien staggered sideways like it had been drinking moonshine for the last twenty-four hours. Grisham felt the attack too, like a punch to the temple, and it took all his self-control to stop from shouting out. The pain in his head increased tenfold and he dropped to his knees.

“Sir, is it the psionics?” asked Deneuve, putting her hands under his arms and hauling him upright.

“Yes,” said Grisham. “They’re hurting the Ax’Kol, but the suppression is affecting me too.”

“Can you shield yourself?” asked Deneuve.

“I don’t know,” said Grisham. “I’ll try.”

He raised his head. The Ax’Kol was still reeling, but it stumbled off through the forward exit, its shoulder striking the corner as it entered the passage. Even staggered by the psionics, the alien was fast.

Chau darted out and looked along the passage. “Take this, you asshole,” he said after a few moments. “Charge detonation command sent.”

The flash of the explosion illuminated the dark walls and the rumble of the blast came a moment later. Despite the crap he took from the other squad members, Chau knew what he was doing and, though a wave of searingly hot air rushed into the starboard room, it wasn’t enough to injure anyone.

Even before the sound of the explosion had faded, Grisham extended his mind. The Ax’Kol which had gone through the forward exit wasn’t dead and he gained no sense of how badly it was hurt.

“Here comes more,” said Lyles, leaning across for a better view towards the bridge. “They got here fast.”

Fifteen seconds later, two more Ax’Kol entered the starboard room and both were almost nine feet tall, even with their heads hunched. A third psionic: suppress sent the aliens to their knees. They curled their talons into their palms and pressed their hands to the sides of their lowered heads, like worshippers at an ancient temple.

Grisham didn’t escape the effects of the attack. Without being sure how, he tried to shield himself, but the power of the psionics crept through. His strength wavered and he didn’t know if he could keep the soldiers hidden through much more of this.

The soldiers hardly seemed to notice the psionics and they watched the two aliens, waiting to see if Maxwell would give the order to fire. He didn’t give the order and the Ax’Kol pushed themselves jerkily upright.

“The others must have gone portside,” said Corporal Fine, her voice tight and her gauss rifle aimed at the nearest alien.

“One went onto the bridge,” said Grisham, his eyes watering from the pain in his skull. “I can sense it there.”

The headache he’d suffered on Sagitol had nothing on this. He ordered his suit to give him a pain killing shot and the needle punctured his skin. Meanwhile, the first of the aliens went through the forward exit, while the second lingered near the entrance. Slowly, it turned its head, as if it were listening. One taloned hand remained pressed to its temple.

“It knows we’re here,” said Diaz nervously.

Grisham tried to get a feel of what the Ax’Kol was thinking. His brief hope that his telepathic sense would provide him some insight quickly faded. The alien’s thoughts were wrapped in a dark cloud, just like Grisham remembered from Sagitol.

“We can take it down,” said Vaughan.

“Maybe,” said Maxwell, staring along the barrel of his rifle. “But what happens when the others come?”

“Will the noise draw them, Captain?” asked Corporal Fine.

“I don’t know,” said Grisham. “I was trying my damnedest to be quiet when I was on Sagitol.”

“That’s a risk for later,” said Maxwell. Even so, it was clear by his voice he was tempted by the thought of executing a quick kill.

The Ax’Kol took a step closer towards the corner where Private Franklin was standing. Franklin inched back. The Ax’Kol took a second step.

“Shit, it’s coming for me,” said Franklin.

“Hold steady, soldier,” said Maxwell.

Grisham’s telepathic shield was still in place and the squad medic was no more than four metres away. He knew exactly what Franklin was feeling - fear and helplessness – since Grisham had experienced the same himself on Sagitol.

“Sir, do we need to act?” asked Maxwell. His voice was calm, but urgency was creeping in.

“Hold!” said Grisham. He didn’t know if it was the right order to give, but there were other Ax’Kol close by and they could be here in moments.

For what seemed like an age, the hulking alien faced the corner where Franklin was standing. The soldier stared back defiantly.

“Get the hell away,” muttered Lyles.

The tableau held and Grisham felt the tension like an enormous hand squeezing his chest. The soldiers were stock still, their weapons aimed at the Ax’Kol. Their guns wouldn’t be enough to stop the alien if it got a sense of Franklin.

Instead of attacking, the Ax’Kol took a slow step away. Then, it turned and accelerated through the aft corridor. Grisham took a few careful paces towards the centre of the room and saw the alien disappear around the corner of the next room.

“Well that sucked,” said Franklin.

“We killed two out of eight,” said Maxwell. “With one more injured.”

As beginnings went, it was acceptable. Also on the plus side, the Voltran was still at lightspeed. Grisham linked to the warship and discovered the vessel’s original mind was gathering itself to unleash another psionic: suppress.

He cursed and readied himself for the pain. At the same time, movement from the bridge corridor caught his attention. An Ax’Kol filled the opening. Its face was aimed directly at the starboard wall where the soldiers were all standing and Grisham had a strong feeling it knew they were there.

FIFTEEN

The psionic: suppress attack hit. Grisham did what he could to deflect the crushing energy but it still sent him to his knees. The Ax’Kol was affected too, and it wrapped its fingers around its head.

“Sergeant, we have to kill it,” said Grisham through clenched teeth.

“Open fire!” Maxwell ordered without hesitation. “Bring it down!”

The soldiers were already spread out and they fired their guns. Gauss rifles whined and their projectiles struck the alien.

Vaughan didn’t deploy his repeater – instead, he braced himself and fired the gun from a standing position. Over this short distance, the reduced accuracy didn’t matter and gauss slugs tore into the Ax’Kol.

Without making a sound, the alien lashed out, its arm a blur of motion. The blow didn’t come near to connecting and the creature swung again.

“Keep back!” Maxwell shouted.

Grisham didn’t even attempt to fire. While he was recovering from the last psionic: suppress, his reactions were dulled and he’d be a liability if he started shooting the Ax’Kol. Instead, he stepped carefully along the starboard wall, doing his best to stay clear of the soldiers. Commander Deneuve took hold of his arm and helped him stay upright.

The room was large, but not sufficient for ten soldiers and six crew to manoeuvre effectively. It was clear the Ax’Kol was recovering and its arms had enormous reach. Again and again it swiped through the air, and each time it seemed to come a little closer to hitting someone.

For his part, Grisham did what he could to maintain the telepathic shield around the soldiers. Unfortunately, the Ax’Kol clearly had other means to locate its prey and the sound of gunfire was drawing it towards the starboard wall.

“Die, you bastard,” said Vaughan, his repeater shots punching chunks of flesh out of the Ax’Kol’s head and upper body.

By now, the soldiers had formed a semicircle around the alien and they fired nonstop. The creature’s flesh was a mess of wounds and the top half of its head was missing. And yet, the Ax’Kol didn’t die. With a single, long stride, it closed the distance between itself and the soldiers. Its arm lashed out, talons extended. Somehow, Private Chau saw it coming and he threw himself backwards. The alien’s claws cut through the air only inches from his chest.

Despite the punishment it was taking, it seemed the Ax’Kol was going to stay on its feet long enough to score a kill. Grisham’s hated its persistence. The aftereffects of the psionic: suppress had faded and he raised his gun.

Just as he was ready to fire, one of the Voltran’s minds unleashed yet another psionic attack. This time, Grisham’s instinctive attempt to deflect the energy was more successful. He flinched at the pain, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the previous times.

For the Ax’Kol, the outcome was final and the creature simply dropped down in a heap.

“Keep firing,” ordered Maxwell.

Bullets poured into the alien, but it didn’t move. Ten seconds later, the corpse was little more than a ragged pile of chewed up dry flesh. Maxwell gave the command to cease fire. The soldiers watched the passages while Vaughan swapped a fresh magazine into his repeater. Then, Squad A reloaded and, when they were done, Squad B did likewise.

“Captain, can you sense the location of the other Ax’Kol?” asked Maxwell.

Grisham searched with his mind. He could no longer detect the first alien which had gone through the forward exit. It had been injured by Chau’s explosive charge and maybe that had made it more vulnerable to the psionic: suppress attacks. The second alien which had gone that way was still alive and about three hundred metres from the squad’s position.

“One of the forward aliens is dead,” said Grisham. “The other isn’t moving, but it’s still alive.”

Grisham searched further. The alien which had headed through the aft exit was faraway in the Voltran and he couldn’t pinpoint its location. One of the aliens had gone portside and he couldn’t sense it at all. The Ax’Kol on the bridge was gone as well. He informed Maxwell of his findings.

“That makes only two left,” said Maxwell.

“Maybe those ones will die to the psionic attacks as well,” said Chau hopefully.

Grisham linked to the Voltran. The two minds were exhausted and, since they’d only fired off a few psionic: suppress attacks between them, he guessed they’d expended their energy using other means he wasn’t aware of.

“I doubt there’ll be any more psionics for a while,” Grisham said. It wasn’t clear which of the two minds would come out on top, and this wasn’t the time for him to interfere. Certainly he would have preferred to rely on the Voltran to locate the enemy, but while he was able to manage it himself, Grisham thought it best he keep doing so.

“We have one Ax’Kol aft of our position and one forward,” said Maxwell. He flared his nostrils, his expression angry. “Let’s head aft.”

“We could fortify the bridge, Sergeant,” said Corporal Barkley.

“That’s my plan when there’s only one Ax’Kol remaining, Corporal,” said Maxwell. “The bridge only has a six-metre diameter – that’s not enough space for us to handle two of these bastards.”

The soldiers were ready to move and Maxwell strode for the aft exit. Grisham stayed in the middle of the pack so it was easier to keep everyone within his telepathic shield. The operation was making progress, but his mental reserves were falling, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep everyone hidden from the Ax’Kol. At least his headache was starting to wane as the painkillers took effect.

At the end of the passage was another of the Voltran’s many interior spaces. This room was rectangular, and twelve metres on its longest side. A rack of metal bars was embedded in the high ceiling, and three triangular protrusions emerged from the starboard wall. The only sound was that of the Voltran’s propulsion.

“Which way, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

The room had three additional exits and either of two could conceivably lead to the last position he’d detected the Ax’Kol. Grisham reached out with his mind.

“Oh shit,” said Lyles. She was in the middle of the room and looking along the portside corridor. “It’s coming! Lowe get your ass here!”

Lowe approached at a run, his upper body at a diagonal to the passage and his launcher over his shoulder. “It’s…ah crap, it’s close.” He swore again. “Rocket out! Get down!”

As the tube coils whined, Lowe took long strides back. Grisham threw himself towards the forward passage, where Diaz, Franklin and three members of his crew were already hitting the deck.

The missile exploded and Grisham held his eyes tightly closed. A warning alarm buzzed gently in his earpiece and he felt the blast wave rush through the air. He opened his eyes, rolling onto his side as he did so.

Into the room came the Ax’Kol. It was blazing with plasma and yet it showed no sign of pain or injury. The quickest of the soldiers to react fired their rifles into the creature and Grisham heard the drone of Vaughan’s repeater.

“Get out of here!” shouted Maxwell. “Forward exit!”

Grisham could understand the reason for the order. The Ax’Kol was in flames but it might yet soak a few hundred slugs before it went down. Scrambling to his feet, Grisham offered Lieutenant Adler a hand up, without taking his eyes off the alien. It could sense the soldiers were near and it lashed out with both arms. The creature’s flesh was crackling with the heat, and smoke poured away from it.

“You have to move, sir,” said Corporal Fine as she entered the passage. Maxwell, Lyles, Vaughan, and Lowe weren’t far behind and they were heading this way at a sprint. Grisham turned and ran.

“It’s still coming,” said Lyles. “I hate these assholes!”

Grisham raced into the room he’d not long ago vacated. Chau and Diaz were already in the middle of the room next to the corpse of the last Ax’Kol they’d killed, and their guns were aimed along the aft passage. It was too crowded for them to shoot and they held fire until the last of the squad emerged into the room.

Having come to a halt, Grisham spun and tucked the stock of his rifle into his shoulders. The blazing Ax’Kol was halfway along the corridor and it was clearly labouring with the damage it had suffered. He shot it as fast as the rifle would discharge its projectiles.

As he fired, Grisham tried to gain a sense of what the creature was thinking, but he came up against the same impenetrable cloud as before. He didn’t know if his telepathic powers were too weak to read the alien’s thoughts, or if all it knew in its head was dark nothingness.

Weakened by the rocket blast and the flames, the Ax’Kol succumbed to the fusillade, and it slumped to the floor.

“Down you go,” said Lyles with great satisfaction. Even so, she wasn’t confident enough to hold fire and, like the other soldiers, she put bullets into the motionless Ax’Kol until Maxwell gave the order to stop.

“Seven down,” said Diaz. “This is payback for Fleming and Valerio.” She turned to Lowe and gave him a thumbs up. “Good shot, man.”

“Thanks,” said Lowe.

Grisham hadn’t seen where the rocket detonated, but he guessed the Ax’Kol’s proximity meant that Lowe had been forced to aim beyond his target, in order that he didn’t incinerate half the squad. That was the only explanation he could think of as to why the alien had survived the explosion.

“Where’s the last one, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

“I’ll find out.”

Grisham hunted for the creature. As soon as he extended his mind, the headache returned, and he gritted his teeth. So much for the damned painkillers.

“It’s coming our way, Sergeant, but not too fast,” said Grisham. “I’m finding it hard to maintain the telepathic shield, and I’d guess it keeps slipping during the shit-on-fan moments when my mind has too many other things to deal with.”

“Time to head for the bridge, Sergeant?” asked Barkley.

By his expression, Maxwell was torn. “That forward passage is the only way back to us, unless the Ax’Kol travels all the way portside and comes past the bridge again.”

“It isn’t doing that,” said Grisham. He pointed forward. “That’s the way it’s coming.”

“Then we’ll kill it here,” said Maxwell. “Is there time for Chau to lay another charge, Captain?”

“Maybe,” said Grisham.

“In that case, no charge,” said Maxwell.

He stared at the dead alien in the centre of the room with distaste. It was in the way, but it was too heavy to move it quickly. A few hand motions and a couple of orders had the soldiers in position. They formed a semicircle at the aft end of the room. Lowe and Vaughan were in the centre of the semicircle, while Diaz would throw grenades into the passage.

Grisham did his best to sense the Ax’Kol’s movements. His mental exhaustion was such that his knowledge of its whereabouts was becoming increasingly vague. Whenever he tried to focus, the headache became rapidly more intense and the pain made him fear he’d black out.

One thing was certain – the Ax’Kol was in no hurry. Doubtless it knew the others who’d accompanied it onto the Voltran were dead, but Grisham wasn’t sure how that would affect its behaviour. Two rooms forward of the squad’s position, the creature stopped.

“I don’t like this,” said Grisham.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

“The Ax’Kol isn’t moving,” said Grisham. “I wonder if it knows we’re waiting for it.”

Maxwell grimaced. “If you can hold that telepathic shield, we can afford a standoff for a while,” he said. “But I like to know why my enemy is doing what it’s doing.”

“I don’t have any advice for you, Sergeant,” said Grisham. He smiled thinly “And I don’t know how much longer I can hold the shield, so don’t figure on a long standoff.”

“I won’t, sir,” said Maxwell. He stared into the forward corridor. “Let’s give this asshole a couple of minutes to see what it decides. Otherwise, we’ll have to go hunting for it.” The expression on Maxwell’s face clearly indicated what he thought of that idea.

Time passed and Grisham became increasingly agitated. Although he was managing to hold the telepathic shield, the behaviour of the alien was unexpected. The soldiers were worried too – Grisham knew them well enough now that he could recognize the signs. All the while, stinking smoke from the Ax’Kol in the passage seemed to thicken in the room and it added a haziness to everything.

“Come on you alien shithead,” said Diaz.

Grisham extended his senses again and gritted his teeth at the thumping in his head. The alien was gone.

What the hell?

As far as anyone knew, the last Ax’Kol hadn’t suffered any notable injuries and that meant the only explanation was that it had died to a psionic: suppress attack. Somehow, that didn’t seem right, since the last psionic exchange between the warship’s minds had been several minutes ago.

“Sergeant Maxwell, I can no longer sense the Ax’Kol,” said Grisham.

The news was evidently enough to push Maxwell over a threshold. “We’re repositioning,” he said. “We’ll hold the bridge instead.”

No sooner had he spoken the words than an Ax’Kol emerged from the aft passage at horrific speed. Without slowing, the creature thrust outwards with its claws, missing everyone. It tried again and this time its talons went right the way through Private Franklin’s torso, like he was a sausage being skewered from the barbecue. In one fluid motion, the Ax’Kol lifted him from his feet and carried him to the centre of the room where, without apparent effort, it raised him high up to the ceiling.

“Aaaah shit!” screamed Franklin. Blood oozed from the punctures in his combat suit and his wide eyes were visible through his visor. The Ax’Kol shook him and he screamed again.

Calmly, Maxwell aimed his gun. Fury was in his eyes when he pulled the trigger. His shot went straight through Franklin’s head and the man died instantly.

“Kill that alien bastard,” Maxwell snarled.

At that moment, Grisham found out how little he knew about telepathic powers, when he saw a second Ax’Kol approaching along the forward corridor. It got worse.

“Incoming – portside entrance,” said Chau a split-second after Grisham had spotted this second enemy.

Grisham cursed bitterly that he hadn’t considered the possibility the Ax’Kol might be able to shield themselves from his senses in the same way he could shield himself from theirs.

Three Ax’Kol were too many to fight, and, having seen how easily Private Franklin had been killed, Grisham was no longer sure if the defence he’d erected was useful.

SIXTEEN

The odds were worse than bad, but the soldiers didn’t intend to give up their lives cheaply or easily. Lowe fired a rocket along the forward passage, and Vaughan directed a torrent of gauss slugs into the Ax’Kol which was still holding onto Franklin. The rocket detonated in a moment and Private Diaz readied herself to throw a grenade.

The rest of the soldiers, along with Grisham’s crew, fired their gauss rifles into the creature in the centre of the room. With a contemptuous lack of haste, the alien turned its arm at the shoulder and let Franklin’s corpse slide free. The dead soldier thudded onto the floor, the bullet hole in his visor clearly visible.

From the forward passage, the first alien emerged. It was well alight and one of its arms had been torn off by the rocket blast. The Ax’Kol weren’t bothered by pain or injury and this one stepped into the room, its burning head turning as it tried to pinpoint the soldiers.

The third alien exited the portside passage. This one was larger than the others and Grisham felt it seeking him out. He wondered if the creature had been the one which remained on the bridge – perhaps the Inojor had assigned it to be the Voltran’s commanding officer.

Fury took hold of Grisham. This warship belonged to him and his crew. It had a purpose that no other vessel could fulfil. The Voltran would be the bridge that would bring the Human Federation and the Kijol together. If that didn’t happen, the Ax’Kol would be unstoppable.

Grisham had a sudden thought about what he might do. He interfaced with the warship and his sense of everything around him faded. Even so, he remained aware and he backed towards the aft wall of the room. As he did so, the Ax’Kol which had killed Franklin took a long step closer. It swung out an arm and its blood-drenched talons glistened. A command from Maxwell sent the soldiers scattering around the room.

Through his telepathic link, Grisham found the Voltran’s original consciousness. It had emerged victorious in its battle with the new mind, though the effort had left it so drained it was almost dormant. Grisham pushed himself through the grey to the place where the souls existed. Their anger was undiminished, but they were nearly spent. He railed against them. He’d helped them find themselves and given them a purpose. If the Ax’Kol captured the warship, their revenge would never come.

The souls of the dead roiled, and hatred burnished their anger until it was incandescent.

Grisham withdrew. Somehow, he’d managed to hold his telepathic shield – perhaps with the strength of his own anger – and the three Ax’Kol had not yet made a second kill. Two of them made aimless cuts through the air, while the one which had been struck by Lowe’s rocket still turned its head, seeking.

However, the soldiers weren’t going to survive much longer. A hand pulled at Grisham’s arm.

“Sir, we need to get out of here,” said Maxwell, concern in his eyes at Grisham’s distant expression. “We’re going to attempt a withdrawal along the aft passage. Can you maintain the shield?”

Grisham focused on Maxwell. “I’ve got something better in mind, Sergeant.”

He sent a command to the Voltran.

Psionic: suppress.

The Voltran obliged. This time, the attack it created was not aimed at the second mind – it was targeted directly at this area of the warship. The intensity of it staggered two of the Ax’Kol and killed the one injured by Lowe’s rocket stone, cold, dead.

Grisham suffered too. Even though he was ready for the attack and did his best to deflect the energy, he was too weakened by his exertions in holding the telepathic shield. He felt himself toppling, but Maxwell grabbed hold of him and kept him on his feet.

“Kill them, Sergeant,” said Grisham.

The two Ax’Kol which had survived the psionic: suppress had their palms to their temples and one was shaking its head.

Now the aliens were incapacitated, the soldiers focused fire on the one which had killed Franklin. Like a sponge, the creature soaked bullets and still it didn’t die. Vaughan’s repeater slugs chewed into the Ax’Kol and its head was blown into bloodless pieces.

Despite the brutality of the psionic: suppress, the two aliens began to recover. The one closest to the portside corridor – which Grisham had thought might be in command of the others – rose unsteadily to its feet. It swayed and looked as if it might fall, but managed to stay upright.

Maxwell was aware of the danger, but his options were limited. The soldiers couldn’t fire their guns any faster or any more effectively, and the Ax’Kol were too close for rockets or grenades.

“Withdraw!” he ordered. “Aft corridor! Lowe, can you get off a shot from there?”

“I can take out one of these assholes, but not both, Sergeant.”

The alien which had killed Franklin was almost dead and the soldiers were reluctant to hold fire. Even so, discipline was strong and they sprinted towards the aft corridor. In a flash, the Ax’Kol commander was after them.

Grisham did the only thing he could.

Psionic: suppress.

The Voltran’s mind was almost too drained to execute the order, but the souls found strength in their anger and they generated the psionic attack. Another thunderous wave of mental energy struck Grisham a piledriver blow to his mind. He fought for consciousness. Through dimming vision, he saw the Ax’Kol commanding officer heading his way. It stumbled and swung out an arm.

Despite Grisham’s monumental effort to stay conscious, he blacked out.

“Captain?” said a voice nearby.

“I think he’s coming round,” said another voice.

Grisham groaned at the thumping pain in his head.

“The med box won’t let me give you another pain killing shot, sir,” said the first voice. It was Sergeant Maxwell.

“What—” said Grisham. The word came out more like a croak and speaking made his throat hurt.

“We killed that big Ax’Kol,” said the second voice. It was Private Lyles.

“The Voltran detects no other Ax’Kol onboard, sir,” said Lieutenant Lopez, from somewhere close by.

Grisham remembered thinking that one of the early psionic attacks had killed several of the Ax’Kol, but then he’d discovered the enemy had a way of avoiding his detection. With an effort, he opened his eyes. He was lying on his back on the bridge floor and guessed Maxwell had retreated here just in case. A vile stench hung in the air - it was the lingering odour of incinerated Ax’Kol.

“How sure is the Voltran, Lieutenant?”

“There’s no doubt, sir. The Ax’Kol can’t hide from the warship.”

That, at least, was good news.

“Did everyone make it?” Grisham asked.

“Everyone except Franklin, sir,” said Maxwell. “The squad has lost two medics in the last three months. That’s a bad job.”

“It could have been a hell of a lot worse, Sergeant,” said Grisham. He rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. His head spun, but he kept his balance. Looking about, he saw his crew at their stations. The command station interface post had been melted into a knee-high lump of metal and a larger lump of carbonized Ax’Kol lay against the wall. A trail of char indicated the alien’s corpse had been dragged there by the soldiers, to get it out of the way.

Commander Deneuve was at the interface post nearby. She looked over and gave him a tight smile.

“You’ve been out for a time, Captain,” she said. “More than four hours.”

That caught Grisham by surprise. “Damn,” he said. “Those psionic attacks hit me hard.”

“I reckon you saw an excuse for a nap and took it,” said Lieutenant Adler gruffly.

“Well I’m awake now,” said Grisham. He remembered something else. “What about the warship’s second mind?”

“There is no second mind, Captain,” said Deneuve. “Don’t ask me how it happened, but the Voltran’s original mind must have done something—” She blew out a breath. “The two of them have merged.”

“That’s got to be good news,” said Grisham.

“I hope so, Captain. Maybe you’ll want to check it out for yourself before coming to that conclusion.”

“Is the combined mind angry?” Grisham asked.

“In my opinion, that would be an understatement, sir. There’s more - the mind the Inojor fitted us with came with a new psionic. It’s a focus effect that amplifies our existing psionics.”

“That sounds interesting,” said Grisham.

“It has a long charge up time,” said Deneuve. “Five minutes.”

Grisham was too tired to imagine the possibilities of a slow-build attack amplifier. Equally, he didn’t want to link with the merged mind just yet. What he needed was something to drink, something to eat, and twelve hours of sleep. It suddenly struck him how famished he was and he wondered if creating the telepathic shield had sapped his body of energy as well as his mind.

“The Ax’Kol are dead,” he said. “And I’m going to the mess room. When I’m done there, I’m taking that nap Lieutenant Adler was just talking about.”

Grisham headed for the exit. His first few steps were shaky, but he steadied himself.

“Sir, I should post a guard on the bridge,” said Maxwell.

“There’s no need, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “When you’re ready, I’d like you and your squad to tidy up the mess on my warship.” He sighed. “And find a place for Private Franklin. We’ll bring him home.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maxwell. He beckoned for the other soldiers to follow him from the bridge.

“Feel free to accompany me to the mess room first,” said Grisham. “I’d like to hear everything I missed while I was out cold.”

The mess area wasn’t far from the bridge and Grisham went straight for the replicator. Three cups of ice-cold water slaked his thirst. Then, he vended a tray of carb-laden food and sat on one of the low-level horizontal bars which passed as benches on the Voltran.

Maxwell wasn’t eating or drinking and he sat opposite. “There’s not much to tell, Captain,” he said, returning to Grisham’s request for information. “The psionics slowed the Ax’Kol enough that we were able to put them down. Without those attacks—” He shrugged. “We’d all be dead.”

“But we’re not dead, Sergeant.” Grisham felt his determination rise above his exhaustion. “The Voltran is ours and – if the two minds really have merged – then it’s going to be stronger than ever.”

“I hope so,” said Maxwell. “What are we going to find at the end of this transit?”

“Death and misery, Sergeant, but we’ll have a chance to do something good for the Human Federation.”

“By saving the Kijol,” said Maxwell. He shook his head like he was still coming to terms with it.

“Wars don’t last forever, Sergeant. The Kijol aren’t like us, but I saw enough on Vinxilkx and Savixor that I feel a connection. We’ll never agree terms with the Ax’Kol, because the only thing they want is the one thing we can’t give them.”

Maxwell nodded. “Our lives.”

“That’s what we’re fighting for.”

Grisham stayed in the mess area for a time. He talked to the soldiers and listened to what they had to say. When even the floor started looking comfortable, Grisham headed off to one of the nearby rooms where he knew he’d find a mattress. He spoke to Commander Deneuve on the comms and told her he’d be off duty for a few hours.

Eleven hours later, he woke up. The pain in his head wasn’t completely gone, but it was reduced to a nagging ache that he could just about ignore. He was hungry again and he went first to the mess room. To his surprise, he was alone here. Grisham was about to interface with the Voltran to find out where Maxwell and the other soldiers had gone to, but instead he tried searching for them with telepathy. The effort made the pain in head increase, but it wasn’t too bad. He located the soldiers elsewhere on the warship. Presumably they were cleaning up the dead pieces of Ax’Kol.

He left the mess and went to the bridge.

“Your turn, Commander,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder towards the bridge exit.

Deneuve looked tired but alert and she smiled in acknowledgement. “Lieutenant Adler and Lieutenant Bishop are due back in three hours,” she said, indicating their empty stations.

That left Grisham with Lieutenants Lopez and Kinsey. Three people were enough to monitor the Voltran while it was travelling at lightspeed.

Since the command station was melted, Grisham picked himself the empty station between Deneuve and Lopez. He didn’t need the physical contact to form the interface, but it was somehow more comfortable having a place to lay his hand.

It was time to investigate the Voltran’s mind. He linked to the warship and then projected himself into the grey, half-expecting resistance. Instead, he passed straight through into the place he recognized. The souls welcomed him, but their numbers were far greater than before. Billions of the dead were held within this place. They knew what they had once been and they knew what they had become. Hatred and anger were predominant and, though these emotions were tools Grisham could use, he felt nevertheless deeply saddened. Perhaps one day the spirits would find peace.

He pulled his consciousness away.

“The Voltran is stronger than it was,” he said.

“You don’t look happy, sir,” said Lopez.

“So much death to build this warship.”

“We’ll make something good out of it,” said Lopez.

“That we will,” said Grisham. He’d already made that same promise to the Voltran. “The psionic: focus might come in useful.”

“It’s a shame we don’t know how much amplification it’ll create,” said Lopez. “Or how much it’ll drain the Voltran’s mind.”

“And we won’t get a chance to test it before we arrive at wherever the hell we’re going,” said Grisham. “We’ll have to figure things out as we go. Same as always.”

The next twenty-four hours passed with the crew going on and off shift. Grisham slept again, this time for only eight hours. His headache disappeared and he hoped never to experience another like it.

By the halfway point of the journey, the crew were all rested, while Maxwell and the soldiers had chopped up the bodies of the Ax’Kol and dragged the pieces into a remote room. Grisham’s concentration was back where he needed it to be. Briefly, he considered cancelling the lightspeed transit and returning to the dark sphere in the hope that he might catch the Inojor unawares and unguarded. The Voltran’s new mind with its new psionic ability might just be strong enough to offer a challenge.

While the idea was appealing, the psionic: focus was an unknown, so he decided to stick with his original plan of finding out what the Ax’Kol intended at the end of this transit. Perhaps, Grisham thought, he’d have an opportunity to test out the new psionic amplifier and thereby be better able to judge its viability against the Inojor.

So, he let the journey continue in the hope that when he arrived at the Voltran’s unknown destination, he’d have a chance to screw up an Ax’Kol mission and also learn something about his warship’s improved capabilities.

Soon, the three days were over and, with less than twenty minutes remaining before the Voltran exited lightspeed, Grisham and his crew were on the bridge and ready for whatever they would find.

SEVENTEEN

At exactly the expected moment, the Voltran re-entered local space. Grisham’s adrenaline was pumping as he watched for the sensors to come back online. The feeds re-established and they were all of darkness.

“Tell me what’s out there,” Grisham said. “Quickly.”

“Running a local area sweep,” said Bishop.

“Scanning for planets,” said Lopez.

“I’m detecting Ax’Kol warships, Captain,” said Bishop. “Four so far. Two more have just exited lightspeed. The nearest is only four hundred kilometres from our position.”

“An Indredalus,” said Grisham, staring at the battleship off the Voltran’s portside flank.

“Two more battleships have arrived in addition to that one,” said Bishop. “And now we’re at a total of nine Ax’Kol warships.”

“There were three battleships in the dark sphere,” said Grisham. “They must have all come with us.” He swore. “I wonder how many vessels the Ax’Kol have sent here.”

“I’ve located a planet, sir,” said Lopez. “It’s approximately five million klicks from the Voltran.”

Grisham accessed the feed. He saw immediately that the planet was populated.

What if it’s a human world?

It was a possibility he hadn’t considered before now and his heart thumped in his chest at the thought. A moment later, his fear subsided – he knew all the main worlds in the Human Federation by appearance, and this wasn’t one of them.

“Plenty of trees, plenty of lakes, and a whole central belt covered in cities and farmland,” said Lopez. “Just the sort of place an Ax’Kol scumbag might want to take a holiday.”

“So this is the target,” said Grisham.

“I have a count of eighteen Ax’Kol warships now, Captain,” said Bishop. “The farthest is six thousand klicks from the Voltran. We haven’t yet received communication from any of the vessels which accompanied us.”

“I wonder if we’re waiting for some other warships,” said Deneuve.

“That’s the worry, Commander,” said Grisham.

“Eighteen warships make a sizeable force,” said Adler. “But is it enough to take an entire planet?”

Grisham didn’t know how many vessels the Kijol would usually have stationed at one of their populated worlds. Enough in normal times to challenge these eighteen Ax’Kol warships, he suspected. However, the Kijol fleet had been under pressure recently, particularly since it had been attempting to subdue the Human Federation. While there was an uneasy ceasefire at the moment, the Kijol warships in human territory hadn’t yet been stood down.

“Lieutenant Lopez, run a sweep of the planet for comms receptors. I’m assuming this place is Kijol. Let them know they are about to be attacked and that the Voltran is operating undercover.”

“Comms sweep finished,” said Lopez a moment later. “The planet’s satellite ring has accepted my comms request.”

Grisham let Lopez get on with it. She’d need to speak to someone high up in the military if there was to be any hope of a fast response. As humanity had learned to its cost in the past, the Kijol were efficient and Grisham doubted Lopez would run into difficulties.

“My warning is heading up the chain, Captain,” she said after a short time. “The Kijol have definitely taken it seriously.”

“I think I know what we’re waiting for, sir,” said Deneuve. “These Ax’Kol warships might carry plenty of ground troops between them, but not enough to take a planet.”

“The enemy raise corpses to fight for them, Commander,” said Grisham. Even so, he nodded. “I’m sure you’re right though. The Ax’Kol will want to land in multiple locations for maximum efficiency. These warships aren’t going to set down on the planet – they’re here to enable a landing.”

“Captain, I have Admiral Revixin on the comms. He commands the local Kijol fleet as well as the Eternus battleship Liovalan. The planet is called Talior.”

“Bring him in,” said Grisham. “Open channel.”

“Captain Grisham,” said Revixin, his voice laden with suspicion. “You were tasked with bringing down the dark sphere.”

“The sphere generator is contained within a death factory warship called Inojor,” said Grisham. “The Inojor was beyond the Voltran. My crew and I were not recognized as imposters, and we were sent here along with these Ax’Kol warships. I offer my assistance to the local fleet in the coming battle.”

Revixin was quiet for long moments. “It is hard for me to trust your species, Captain Grisham.”

“That goes both ways, Admiral. I’m on the side of peace – I risked everything to save your people at Savixor and I’m about to do it again for Talior.”

“It is because of Savixor that I am setting aside my doubts,” said Revixin. “And because Talior needs me to.”

“You’re facing eighteen Ax’Kol warships, Admiral,” said Grisham. “The Voltran is with them, but rest assured I will not attack the local defence fleet. However, I will choose the right moment to reveal the truth to the enemy.”

“The Talior local fleet numbers fifteen vessels. It is outmatched,” said Revixin. He gave a clicking laugh. “But not by much.”

“I’m expecting Ax’Kol reinforcements,” said Grisham. “So far there are only warships in the attack fleet and no transports.”

“If there are no transports, then then they will soon come,” said the Kijol.

“Do you have sensor sight of the enemy fleet yet?”

“Yes. The majority of our ground stations will be unable to target the Ax’Kol warships.”

“How long before the planet is reinforced?” asked Grisham.

“We have two Achirus cruisers within three hours of Talior,” said Revixin. “Other warships are more than a day from here.”

“This first engagement will be long finished by then,” said Grisham. “What can you tell me of the usual Ax’Kol attack methods, Admiral?”

“The Ax’Kol are not sophisticated, Captain Grisham. They will seek to keep my fleet occupied while they land their transports within the cities of Talior.”

“I’ll do everything I can to assist, Admiral. Will you order your warships to hold fire on the Voltran?”

“I will do so,” Revixin confirmed. “However, the local fleet must stay close to the planet - to intercept the Ax’Kol transports.”

“I understand,” said Grisham. He hesitated as he considered his next words. “Savixor will not be a one-off. The Ax’Kol are the true enemy of both our species.”

“I hope your actions match your words, human.”

The channel went dead.

“Admiral Revixin wasn’t quite as suspicious as I imagined,” said Grisham.

“That’s a good thing,” said Deneuve.

“If we have a significant influence on the outcome here at Talior, hopefully the Kijol will find it easier to overlook the attacks by Danner’s warships,” said Grisham.

“The best solution would be for Danner to see sense and accept defeat,” said Adler sourly. “But I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

“Sir, an Engarvax has just emerged from lightspeed, a thousand klicks from our topsides,” said Lopez.

“Damnit,” said Grisham. “Is it alone?”

“So far.” It was Lopez’s turn to curse. “Nope, another three Ax’Kol warships have also entered local space.”

Grisham felt his teeth grinding together as he stared at the Engarvax. The corpse carrier was identical to the ones he’d encountered at Savixor and inside the dark sphere, and he could see the doors protecting its three bays - each of which could hold a world’s worth of dead bodies.

The accompanying warships were unwelcome, and, even though they were only mid-sized vessels, they would be enough to tip the scales firmly in favour of the Ax’Kol.

“Didn’t Captain Avintziz tell us that the carriers normally hold back until a planet is defeated?” said Adler, referring to the Kijol officer whose Eternus battleship had put the final few nails in the coffin of the Engarvax at Savixor.

“That’s what he said,” Grisham agreed. “Either he was mistaken, or the Ax’Kol are becoming bolder.”

He didn’t speculate further and kept his attention on the Engarvax. The huge vessel rotated and accelerated directly towards the Voltran.

“That’s the carrier from Leoxval,” said Grisham. “It’s going to try muscling us out of the way again.”

From Grisham’s perspective, it was a petty game in the extreme. He tried to convince himself that the behaviour of the Engarvax was all coincidence and that he was overthinking matters.

“Captain, I’ll give you the same advice as I did at Leoxval,” said Deneuve.

“No staring competitions,” said Grisham.

He sent a command to the Voltran and the warship accelerated ten kilometres to starboard. A few seconds later, the Engarvax flew through the vacated space and then came to a standstill less than twenty kilometres from the Voltran’s stern.

“The transports will be inside the carrier’s bays,” said Deneuve.

“I agree,” said Grisham. “And regardless of what’s in its bays, the Engarvax is the biggest threat to the Voltran here. Even more so than those battleships.”

He watched the carrier for a few moments. Soon, the Ax’Kol would act, but there was no sign the Engarvax was about to deploy its transports. Grisham suddenly realised what he was missing. Five million kilometres was a long way to travel sub-light, even for a fast transport.

“The transports don’t need to exit the bays,” he said. “Damnit! They’ll warm up their lightspeed drives while they’re inside the Engarvax and then launch straight into the planet’s atmosphere.”

“We can’t stop that happening,” said Deneuve. “Unless we hit the Engarvax right now.”

“Which will give the game away,” said Grisham.

His mind turned as he tried to predict the coming actions of the Ax’Kol. He guessed the enemy fleet would approach at lightspeed to within a hundred thousand kilometres of Talior, to draw the Kijol away from the planet. The Kijol were aware the transports were coming, but they would certainly want to engage as far from the planet as they dared, to minimise the risk of debris smashing into Talior. Even if the Kijol fleet only ventured a cautious distance from the planet, the transports could then lightspeed past, land, and deploy their troops.

Once the Ax’Kol were on the ground in civilian areas, the only way for the Kijol to prevent an army of corpses from sweeping across Talior would be to drop incendiaries on the cities where the enemy landed.

He told his thoughts to his crew. By their faces, they agreed with his pessimistic assessment of the situation.

“And even if the Voltran can turn the tide in the fleet engagement, we won’t be able to stop the Ax’Kol troops once they deploy,” Grisham concluded.

“Can the Voltran’s mind detect the presence of Ax’Kol over long distances?” asked Bishop. “If so, we could track down and destroy the transports as they exit lightspeed.”

Grisham didn’t know the answer. On a whim, he reached out with his own senses towards the Engarvax. The effort produced a sharp pain in his head, but he couldn’t sense any Ax’Kol. He then asked the Voltran’s mind to try and it too reported nothing.

“I can’t detect any Ax’Kol on the carrier and neither can the Voltran,” he said.

“That can’t be right,” said Deneuve.

Grisham cast his mind back to Savixor when the Voltran had exchanged psionic attacks with the Ax’Kol ships. The psionic: suppress had been effective against the warships, but seemingly not against their crews.

“Maybe the Ax’Kol minds are designed to shield the occupants of their warships against telepathic intrusion,” he said.

“But what about the transports, Captain?” asked Bishop. “Will they be shielded once they leave the carrier?”

“Damned if I know, Lieutenant.”

“I wish someone would tell us all the rules of this new warfare,” said Adler. “I hate it when my life relies on successful guesswork.”

Grisham could only agree, and he still hadn’t decided how he’d deal with the coming engagement. He’d initially planned to weaken the Ax’Kol fleet by blowing the crap out of their warships when they were occupied with the Kijol. With the threat of enemy transports firing themselves into the planet’s atmosphere at lightspeed, the straight-down-the-middle approach no longer seemed so attractive. The battle for the skies might conceivably be won, but that would be no use if the Ax’Kol landed thousands of their troops while the two fleets were exchanging fire.

The Ax’Kol didn’t know their presence had been betrayed by Grisham alerting the local fleet, and that was the only possible reason they were delaying. Soon, however, they would commence their attack and, if he didn’t think of a way to screw things up for them, Grisham knew the planet would effectively be lost. If that happened – and assuming the Voltran survived – he’d be returning to Shesa-2 with his tail between his legs, while the Kijol would only remember that the Human Federation had tried to help and had failed miserably.

Grisham cursed. He had the tools, but he surely only had minutes or seconds to figure out the best way to use them.

“Captain, we’ve received a synch code from the Engarvax!” said Adler. “The timer on it is five minutes and it’ll take us to an approximate distance of sixty thousand klicks from Talior.”

The time for thinking had run out and now it was time for a decision. The pressure of everything was just what Grisham’s brain needed. An idea came to him.

EIGHTEEN

“Sir, should I accept the synch code?” asked Adler.

“Yes, accept it,” said Grisham. He turned to Deneuve. “Commander, ready the psionic: focus.”

“Synch code accepted,” said Adler. “Five minutes and we’ll enter lightspeed.”

“The Voltran’s mind is gathering the energy it needs for a psionic: focus, sir,” said Deneuve. “In five minutes, it’ll be ready to amplify the next psionic attack we use.”

“We’ve received a mind-to-mind communication from one of the Indredalus battleships,” said Bishop. “We’re to accept its primacy for the coming attack. The Voltran’s mind is waiting for our agreement before it responds.”

“Send the agreement,” Grisham ordered.

“Agreement sent,” Bishop confirmed. “Now we’re receiving a bunch of other instructions. The Ax’Kol are planning to do exactly what you thought, sir – their warships will attack first and the transports will go five minutes later. We have received the coordinates of their intended deployment locations.”

The intel was a bonus Grisham had not expected. “Send those coordinates to Admiral Revixin,” he said. “Tell him not to make it obvious he knows.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What is our plan, sir?” asked Deneuve. Light dawned on her face. “We aren’t going to Talior with the rest of the Ax’Kol fleet.”

“No, Commander, we are not,” said Grisham. “When the enemy fleet leaves, we’re going to attack the Engarvax with an amplified psionic. If luck is on our side, we’ll be able to knock out the carrier and destroy the transports in its bays.” He smiled thinly. “And the Indredalus has just confirmed the timings for us – after the warships depart, we’ll have five minutes before those shuttles can enter lightspeed.”

“An Indredalus has a four-minute lightspeed warmup time, Captain,” said Deneuve. “If the enemy react quickly enough, they might have time to return and interfere.” She grinned. “But, damn, I like the plan. It’ll feel good to surprise these assholes.”

“That it will,” said Grisham. “And I doubt any of those battleships will realise in time to cause us additional problems. We’ll have our five minutes.”

Saying the word battleship put another idea in Grisham’s mind. The synch code timer was counting down, so he needed to act quickly. “Get me a comms channel to Admiral Revixin,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez at once. “Comms channel requested.” The wait was a short one. “I have Admiral Revixin on the comms.”

“Open channel,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

“Admiral,” said Grisham. “I have thought of a way in which we might gain an advantage over our opponents. Can you spare an Eternus? I plan to attack the Engarvax before it can launch its transports.” Quickly, he explained the rest of the details.

“Very well,” said Revixin after a moment’s thought. “I will instruct the Erangol to execute a lightspeed transit to your location. Be aware that it will not arrive until shortly after the Ax’Kol fleet have departed for Talior.”

“We can hold our own until the Erangol arrives, Admiral.”

“I will go now, to give the instructions.”

Revixin exited the channel.

“The Ax’Kol fleet will enter lightspeed in less than three minutes, Captain,” said Adler. “The synch code is still active on the Voltran.”

“Cancel it at two seconds remaining, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The psionic: focus won’t be ready for another few seconds after the Ax’Kol fleet departs,” Deneuve warned. “The carrier crew will be suspicious.”

Grisham nodded. “But not suspicious enough to do anything.”

“What psionic attack should I amplify?” asked Deneuve.

“Wither,” said Grisham. “A suppress might be enough to shut down the carrier’s four minds, or it might not. Either way, it won’t affect those shuttles. They’ll be able to launch right out when their lightspeed drives are ready. We need to crack open the Engarvax and destroy every transport in its bays.”

The timer counted down and Grisham watched the feeds anxiously. He saw nothing that gave him specific cause for concern, though he was feeling the pressure. While he was becoming more accustomed to playing for higher stakes, that was still an entire damned planet down there, with billions of people living on it. His mind threw up an image from Savixor – of the parks and the accommodation domes. Grisham’s anger grew and the pressure no longer seemed so much.

“One minute and the Ax’Kol fleet departs,” said Adler.

“Be ready to cancel the synch code, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Commander Deneuve, target the carrier’s flank doors with a psionic: wither immediately the amplification is ready and then fire everything we have.”

“Yes, sir,” Deneuve confirmed. “No holding back.”

“Thirty seconds,” said Adler.

Grisham drew his attention away from the Ax’Kol warships and instead spent the final few seconds with his gaze on the faraway planet. Talior wasn’t a human world, but from here, it looked the same. Life in the universe was too rare to be treated so callously and he was determined that when this was over, the people on Talior would still be alive.

“Ten seconds,” said Adler.

“Watch that timer,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir, I’ll cancel the synch code on two.” Adler was quiet for a moment. “Five, four, three, two…synch code cancelled.”

Grisham’s focus went back to the sensor feeds. The Ax’Kol fleet vanished, all except the carrier and one other.

“Shit, that Indredalus didn’t leave, Captain,” said Lopez.

Either the Ax’Kol crew on the battleship had lightning reactions and had cancelled their own synch code, or they were never intended to join the attack on Talior in the first place. It wasn’t the start Grisham had envisaged but he wasn’t about to abandon his plan.

“Commander Deneuve, begin the attack.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve. “The psionic: focus is ready. Psionic wither: targeted at Ax’Kol carrier and fired.”

The discharge of psionics was always accompanied by a thumping wave of energy – what Grisham thought of as the recoil – and with the amplification, he was prepared for something of greater magnitude. An immense shudder ran through the warship and the floor visibly rippled. To Grisham, it felt like a defibrillator had been attached to his chest and he’d been given a massive shock. He tried to speak, but it was like the air had been sucked from his lungs.

This was only the start of the combat and Grisham knew he couldn’t let the physical trauma slow him down. He caught his breath and snarled in anger. To one side, Deneuve was shaking her head in pain or confusion, while on the other, Lopez was holding onto the interface post with both hands.

“Commander Deneuve, open fire!” Grisham shouted.

Through the interface, he could sense the Voltran’s mind – part of it had gone dormant, while the rest was still aware. Grisham turned his attention to the sensors. He’d feared that the Engarvax might resist the wither attack, but it had not. Much of its facing flank had crumpled inwards and all three of the bay doors had been significantly distorted.

Already, the carrier was accelerating directly away from the Voltran. Meanwhile, four thousand kilometres away, the Ax’Kol Indredalus was turning. In moments, all hell would be unleashed and Grisham intended to give far better than he got.

“Enemy carrier targeted,” said Deneuve. “Rear Death clusters one to three: fired. Punisher repeaters set to automatic track and destroy. Psionic: suppress targeted on enemy carrier and fired.”

Grisham wasn’t about to let the Engarvax escape and he piloted the Voltran stern-first after it. The propulsion howled and the souls of the warship’s mind roiled with their fury. He didn’t yet know how much of a draining effect the psionic amplification would have on the Voltran – part of the mind had shut down, but the rest was eager for battle.

Such was the proximity that the first thirty-six Death missiles struck the carrier before it could respond to the incoming warheads. The detonations were concentrated around the Engarvax’s forward cargo door and Grisham hoped the explosions would be enough to rip a hole in the enemy vessel’s wither-damaged hull.

“The Engarvax was not shut down by our psionic: suppress,” said Bishop.

“Be ready for a nose-tail switch, Commander,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. Rear Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired.”

“Our second missile wave has been trapped in a psionic: slow.”

“Missile launch detected from the enemy Indredalus.”

“We have been struck by a psionic: wither. The Voltran has resisted the effects.”

“The carrier’s Punisher turrets have destroyed our second missile wave.”

“Psionic: slow targeted on incoming enemy missiles.”

As the updates came in a flood, Grisham commanded the Voltran to rotate about its vertical axis, to bring its forward and starboard clusters onto target. The range was too close for the Death missiles to adjust significantly in flight, so he had to rely on the Voltran’s orientation.

“Forward Death clusters one to three: fired,” said Deneuve. “Psionic: wither targeted on enemy Engarvax and fired.”

“The Indredalus has launched seventy-two missiles,” said Bishop.

“Psionic: slow targeted on enemy missiles,” said Deneuve, only a second later.

“We have been struck by a four-layer psionic: suppress,” said Adler. “The Voltran has not been shut down.”

“Topside Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “Psionic: suppress on enemy carrier.”

A less experienced officer might have been overwhelmed by the rapidity of events, but Grisham had been fighting for years and he knew how to handle situations like this. Strangely, it was the war against the Kijol which had tempered him. Now he was using that strength to help the species he’d fought for so long.

The Voltran’s most recent psionic: wither was partly successful against the Engarvax, and the carrier’s plasma-smeared forward bay door was so buckled it looked ready to fall out. In the bay beyond, Grisham could see dark shapes – shuttles – ready and waiting to launch towards Talior. The opportunity to destroy the transports was now and he bared his teeth in concentration.

Despite the carrier’s acceleration, the Voltran’s propulsion was equal to the task of keeping up. The distance between the two vessels was hardly more than fifty kilometres and the gap wasn’t widening.

Five thousand kilometres away, the Indredalus was falling behind. There again, it probably wasn’t running on pure fury. However, it would be a long time before the Voltran outranged the enemy battleship’s missiles or psionics.

“Topside Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “Starboard Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired.”

“The Indredalus has launched from three of its underside clusters,” said Bishop.

“Psionic: slow on the incoming enemy missiles.”

“The Voltran has been struck by a psionic: suppress,” said Kinsey. “We have not been shut down.”

“The carrier just hit us with another four-layer psionic: suppress,” said Adler. “That’s five minds against one. The Voltran is feeling the strain.”

“Our topside-launched missiles have been caught in a psionic: slow.”

“As have the missiles in our starboard salvo.”

“Commander Deneuve, I asked you to give it everything,” said Grisham. He rolled the Voltran and the underside clusters came onto target.

“I am giving it everything, sir,” said Deneuve. “Starboard clusters four to six: targeted and fired.”

“The Indredalus has launched from three of its portside clusters.”

“Psionic: slow on incoming enemy missiles. Underside Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired.”

“The Indredalus has launched from its remaining three loaded portside clusters.”

“Underside Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired.”

“The Voltran has been struck by eighteen Death missiles.”

“The Voltran has been struck by another four-layer psionic: suppress,” said Adler.

Grisham sensed the Voltran’s mind flinch under the rapid succession of attacks. Its anger was undiminished, but the lesson from the engagement with the Engarvax at Savixor was that fury was not proof against everything.

He focused again on the Ax’Kol carrier, which was rotating now, so that its ruined flank doors would no longer be facing the Voltran. The amplified wither had inflicted enormous damage on the enemy spaceship, but it hadn’t been anything like a knockout blow.

Had Deneuve not been required to expend the Voltran’s psionic reserves defending against the Indredalus, perhaps the Engarvax would have been in real trouble by now. As it was, the Voltran was suffering and, in less than three minutes, the Ax’Kol transports would depart for Talior.

Where’s that damned Eternus?

Grisham didn’t know, but if the Erangol took much longer to arrive, it might well be too late.

NINETEEN

The Kijol didn’t let Grisham down. A four-thousand-metre, new generation Eternus battleship exited lightspeed hardly more than a thousand kilometres from the Voltran. Even before its sensors had come online, the Erangol accelerated from its starting position.

“Come on!” said Bishop.

While Grisham was pleased that Admiral Revixin had been as good as his word, the job wasn’t nearly done. As if sensing the weakening state of the Voltran, the Indredalus and the Engarvax discharged psionic: suppress attacks within a second of each other. The Voltran’s mind shuddered and the warship’s propulsion output dropped for a split-second, before recovering.

“Forward Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “Holding the psionics. Portside Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired.”

During the moments of the Erangol’s arrival, the Voltran’s previous underside launch had been trapped in a psionic: slow and the warheads smashed to pieces by Punisher fire. This next launch was more successful and fifteen of the forward-launched missiles evaded the Engarvax’s defensive fire and struck the carrier on its stern and topsides. A second later, another sixteen from the portside clusters detonated across the same area of the enemy hull.

However, the carrier’s rotation had taken the cargo bay doors out of sight, and Grisham tried to manoeuvre into a position from which Deneuve might fire into the enemy’s portside flank. With the two vessels seemingly matched for maximum velocity, that wasn’t going to happen.

The plasma light from the Voltran’s last two salvoes hadn’t begun to fade when fifty or more missiles launched from the Erangol exploded on the carrier’s stern. Grisham changed his focus briefly to the rear feeds, where he saw the Kijol battleship accelerating directly after the Voltran. The Eternus wouldn’t be able to keep up, but its weaponry would have no problems.

“I have Captain Ulos-Talior on the comms, Captain,” said Lopez. “He signals his intention to destroy the Engarvax, whatever it takes.”

“Acknowledged,” said Grisham. He wasn’t familiar with Kijol naming conventions, but it sounded as if Captain Ulos-Talior had close ties with the planet. His promise of whatever it takes would be no idle boast.

“Portside Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “Holding the psionics. Forward Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired.”

The carrier’s rear quarter was ablaze, but the Engarvax wasn’t slowing down and the gap between it and the Voltran remained fifty kilometres. Viewed on the rear feeds, the Eternus was spilling missiles from seemingly every one of its vast array of launch clusters. Despite what Captain Ulos-Talior had said about focusing on the carrier, the Eternus was also targeting the Indredalus.

While the Engarvax was the primary target, Grisham was more than glad to see the Indredalus put under pressure. Already, the enemy battleship’s portside armour was alight with plasma, and shots from the Kijol Axar turrets produced explosions of ruined flesh among the flames. All the while, Dasor and Punisher fire streaked between the two warships, and yet more of those Dasor and Axar slugs pounded into the carrier’s stern.

“There are less than two minutes remaining before the Ax’Kol transports launch,” said Adler. “If the carrier doesn’t reduce its velocity to near-zero soon, their transits are going to end up way off target.”

Grisham acknowledged. A launch from a high sub-light velocity screwed with the backend calculations and the resulting transit end point would always be considerably far from target. At some point soon, the carrier would have to decelerate.

Still, the combat wasn’t going to plan. The Voltran’s mind was close to exhaustion and Commander Deneuve was holding fire on the psionics so as not to weaken it further. That left only missiles to bring down the carrier and the Engarvax didn’t looked as if it was about to break up anytime soon. The bastard was tough.

Grisham rolled the Voltran again.

“Starboard Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “Holding the psionics. Topside Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired.”

“Our starboard-launched missiles have been trapped in a psionic: slow,” said Kinsey.

“The Voltran has been hit by a psionic: suppress.”

“Our slowed missiles have been neutralised.”

“Twelve confirmed detonations from the topside-launched missiles.”

“The Voltran has been hit by a psionic: wither. The attack was partly resisted.”

“The Indredalus has launched from all six of its forward clusters.”

“Hold the psionics, Commander,” said Grisham at once. “We’ll have to ride these.”

“We don’t have much time, sir,” said Deneuve. “We either push or we lose.”

“I understand that,” said Grisham. He was trying to walk the line between keeping the Voltran strong enough to resist the enemy psionics, while inflicting enough damage on the Engarvax to rip open its hull.

“Nine of the enemy missiles detonated on our stern,” said Bishop. “The Eternus took out a bunch for us.”

At that moment, disaster struck.

“We have been hit by a four-layer psionic: suppress,” said Kinsey. “Shit, I think that’s going to be too much.”

The Voltran’s engines shut off and the bridge descended into silence. Every sensor feed went offline, leaving Grisham blind to the outside world. He wanted to curse but he bit his tongue. In the past, he’d been able to rouse the Voltran’s mind and he attempted his usual method of directing his anger into the grey. The warship didn’t respond, and the section of its mind which had created the psionic amplification was still offline.

To Grisham’s enormous relief, that offline section suddenly woke up and the warship’s engines came smoothly back to life. A part of his brain which registered the little details noted that exactly four minutes had passed since the discharge of the psionic: focus. Perhaps that would be the recovery period every time.

“We’re back in the game!” said Grisham, as the feeds re-established.

During its short time offline, the Voltran had coasted through the vacuum, its velocity undiminished. Luckily, the Engarvax hadn’t changed course and it wasn’t far ahead. The carrier would have to start its deceleration any moment now.

It’s going to vanish.

Right on cue, the Engarvax disappeared from the sensors, just like the carrier on Savixor had done. One of the enemy vessel’s minds had intruded itself into the Voltran’s consciousness and was preventing it from seeing the Ax’Kol spaceship. The previous time, the disappearing act had been effective. On this occasion it was not – the Voltran had learned from the past and, in a couple of seconds, it had ejected the hostile mind.

The Engarvax reappeared on the sensors and in the short time it had been hidden, the carrier had decelerated hard. Already, it was behind the Voltran and the gap was increasing rapidly.

“Like hell,” said Grisham angrily.

He commanded the Voltran to maximum deceleration and the warship slowed at once. Its velocity tumbled.

“Rear Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “I have no clear shot at the portside doors.”

“Hit the enemy with psionics, Commander. Everything we have until there’s no more to give.”

“Psionic: suppress targeted at enemy carrier and fired. Topside Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired.”

“The psionics, Commander. Don’t stop.”

“Psionic: wither targeted at enemy vessel and fired.”

The rapid deceleration of the two vessels had almost caught the Indredalus and the Eternus off guard. Captain Ulos-Talior responded quickest and he reduced his warship’s velocity the moment he saw what was happening. Streaks of orange missile propulsions raced from the Kijol battleship’s forward clusters and they detonated against the Engarvax’s portside flank.

“Our psionic: wither attack was not resisted,” said Lopez. “The carrier is losing its ability to defend.”

“Psionic: suppress targeted at enemy carrier and fired,” said Deneuve. “Rear Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired.”

A massive explosion suddenly erupted on the carrier’s flank and Grisham saw two of its cargo doors break from their housings. In a split second, the huge slabs of Engarvax flesh went from the Voltran’s rear feeds to the forward feeds as the rapid deceleration of the two warships continued.

Grisham held his attention on the rear feeds. The Erangol was taking advantage of its firing angle and continued unloading missiles and Axar projectiles into the carrier’s weakened portside flank. Meanwhile, the Indredalus, its crew having failed to read the abrupt change in combat, was far ahead. Still, its targeting systems were locked and it launched missiles from its rear tubes. Streaks of white flashed from the Voltran’s Punisher turrets, knocking out the inbound warheads as they came.

“Hit the carrier with another suppression attack, Commander.”

“Psionic: suppress targeted on enemy vessel and fired.”

The active part of the Voltran’s mind had become rapidly depleted by the repeated use of psionics, but it responded with another blow to the Engarvax’s control minds. Through the interface, Grisham could sense the remainder of the warship’s consciousness was rousing itself. When it returned to awareness, it would be weakened, but hopefully it would have something to give.

“Less than twenty seconds until those transports go,” said Adler.

“Psionic: suppress targeted on enemy vessel and fired.”

With its velocity almost at zero, the Engarvax’s engines went offline, allowing the Voltran to close the gap between the two vessels. Not wishing to overshoot, Grisham reduced the rate of his own warship’s deceleration, with the intention of ending side-by-side with the carrier’s portside flank.

He just about pulled it off. By the time Grisham had exactly matched velocity with the slowly drifting Engarvax, the Voltran was ten thousand metres portside and two thousand aft of the carrier. It was a position from which Deneuve had full visibility of the enemy flank.

The Engarvax was a mess. Two of its cargo doors were gone and the bay interiors were partly aflame. Still, Grisham could see the transports within. He guessed each bay held fifteen or twenty of the smaller spaceships. Some of those in the exposed bays had been wrecked, but not all.

However, the forwardmost bay door was holding stubbornly into its frame. Gaps had appeared around all four edges and the door itself was distorted from explosions and psionic attacks. And yet, it clung in place.

“Psionic: wither targeted at enemy carrier and fired. Starboard clusters one to five: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve.

Captain Ulos-Talior was also aware of the urgency. Like Grisham, he ignored the attacks of the Indredalus and fired everything he had at the carrier, even going so far as to aim his Dasor turrets into the bays.

Dozens of explosions filled the carrier’s aft and midsection bays and Grisham felt sure the transports within had been utterly destroyed. The Voltran’s last wither psionic had shrunk the forward bay door still further and the biological matter from which it was created was starting to break up.

“Starboard cluster six: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve.

All twelve warheads struck the forward bay door, which finally gave up its resistance and blew apart with the force of the blasts. Within the bay, the Ax’Kol transports nestled.

Only a couple of seconds remained on the enemy lightspeed warmup timers and Grisham desperately rolled the Voltran in hope that he could offer Deneuve some loaded clusters from which she could discharge missiles. It was going to be too late.

“Psionic: wither targeted at enemy carrier and fired,” said Deneuve.

As she spoke, a series of missiles launched from the Eternus crashed into the Engarvax’s forward bay and exploded. A fraction of a second before the two attacks landed, Grisham saw several of the Ax’Kol transports vanish. The others were a moment too slow – a combination of the psionic: wither and the missile detonations wrecked those which had not departed, preventing them from launching at the planet.

“Shit,” said Grisham. “Some got away.”

He replayed that split-second in his mind and guessed that as many as eight of the Ax’Kol transports had made it into lightspeed. The Engarvax’s velocity at the time of launch had been low enough that the shuttles would likely arrive near where they’d intended.

From the brink of pulling off a stunning victory over the Ax’Kol, Grisham was left with the knowledge that he’d left a few significant loose ends. The Indredalus wasn’t nearly finished, the Ax’Kol fleet was still attacking Talior, and, soon, their transports would land and disgorge their murderous cargo of troops.

Grisham wasn’t a man to give up and he didn’t intend starting the habit now.

TWENTY

“We have to take out that Indredalus quickly,” said Grisham, increasing velocity. The Voltran’s minds didn’t have much more to give, but the warship’s missiles were loaded and ready. Plus, the Eternus would be a monumental headache for the Ax’Kol battleship. “But first, the carrier,” he continued. “Lieutenant Lopez, speak with the Erangol and advise them to deploy incendiaries inside the Engarvax’s bay while it’s still offline. Lieutenant Bishop, make sure Admiral Revixin is aware the Ax’Kol transports entered lightspeed.”

“It looks like Captain Ulos-Talior is already intending to use his incendiaries, sir,” said Lopez.

Sure enough, the Kijol battleship was accelerating towards the carrier. The Erangol’s hull had been struck multiple times by the Indredalus’s missiles and Grisham saw that two enormous patches of its armour were crumbling from psionic: decay attacks. Still, he’d seen an Eternus suffer far worse than that before and hold together long enough to blow a couple of Human Federation light cruisers into pieces.

“Forward Death clusters one to three: targeted on enemy battleship and fired,” said Deneuve. “It looks like the Voltran’s mind is fully aware. I’ll hold the psionics for a moment, so I don’t shut it straight down again.”

“I have advised Admiral Revixin about the transports, Captain,” said Bishop.

Over the carrier’s topsides – within a thousand metres - went the Eternus, its Dasor and missile fire directed once again towards the Indredalus. Cannisters tumbled from the Erangol’s underside chutes and the incendiaries’ guidance systems propelled them towards the carrier.

The bombs detonated and accelerated plasma spread rapidly along the entire length of the Engarvax. Four more cannisters dropped from the Erangol and exploded on the carrier. The flames spread and the huge vessel burned as bright as a star.

“Forward Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “The Voltran is now below twenty-five percent of its maximum ammunition capacity in each cluster group.”

It was a reminder Grisham didn’t want that his warship couldn’t fight forever without a resupply. He pushed it straight from his mind. The Indredalus was too strong an opponent for him to be distracted. The Ax’Kol battleship had suffered numerous missile strikes from the Eternus, though – as Grisham had learned – the hulls of the enemy vessels were resistant to plasma. As a result, the Indredalus wasn’t anywhere close to failure.

He cursed at the sight of it. Grisham had an idea how he might deal with the Kijol transports, but it would be hard implement while the enemy battleship was operational.

I have to try.

Grisham instructed the Voltran’s mind to search out the Ax’Kol at Talior. Sure enough, now that the enemy foot soldiers were no longer protected by the Engarvax’s shielding, they were vulnerable to telepathic detection.

As he’d thought, a total of eight shuttles had escaped the carrier and they had emerged from lightspeed at separate locations around the planet. Most of them were at a high altitude and he guessed they’d come in slightly off-target because their launch position – the Engarvax – had moved as they warmed up their lightspeed drives.

“Get Admiral Revixin on the comms,” said Grisham. “I can tell him where the enemy transports exited lightspeed.”

“The Voltran has been struck by a psionic: suppress,” said Lieutenant Kinsey. “We have not been shut down.”

Having been subjected to attack after attack - while giving back plenty of its own - the Voltran’s mind was drained near to empty. That last suppression psionic had almost been enough to send it back into dormancy.

“Starboard Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired. Holding the psionics.”

“Incoming missiles detected from the enemy Indredalus. The reduced numbers in this salvo indicate it has lost some of its launch capabilities.”

“The Voltran has been struck by a psionic suppress,” said Lieutenant Kinsey. “We were not shut down. I don’t think we can take many more of those.”

By now, the Erangol was fully focused on the Indredalus. It launched dozens upon dozens of missiles, in staggered waves. Grisham knew the Kijol battleships were mean as hell, but the Erangol seemed to have been fitted with some extra clusters.

“I have Admiral Revixin on the comms, Captain,” said Bishop. “Open channel?”

“Yes, open channel,” said Grisham. He rotated the Voltran, while trying to keep track of which clusters the Indredalus had recently launched from. “Admiral Revixin,” he said. “The Voltran can detect the Ax’Kol transports telepathically. I can assist you in finding them.”

“We have destroyed one of the eight already,” said Revixin. He made a clicking, hissing sound which Grisham was beginning to recognize as a Kijol curse. “We have no common method of positional description for the planet, human. How accurately can you describe the locations of the Ax’Kol shuttles?”

While Revixin talked, the Voltran and the Erangol exchanged fire with the Indredalus. Missiles raced in both directions, but the greater number of countermeasures possessed by the Eternus and the Voltran meant that far fewer of the Ax’Kol missiles found their targets. And, it was clear from the absence of enemy psionics that the mind on the Indredalus had become exhausted after its previous two suppression attacks.

“A huge city on the northern shore of a V-shaped lake,” said Grisham. “An Ax’Kol transport will soon land there.” He pictured the next location. “Four cities fed by artificial waterways on the edge of a desert.”

“I know those places,” said Revixin. “Where else?”

“A city surrounding a hill. On top of the hill is a spire that reaches to the heavens.”

“Adivan,” said Revixin. “Where else?”

Grisham’s thoughts were interrupted for a moment as he concentrated on adjusting the Voltran’s orientation so that its loaded underside clusters were brought onto target. Deneuve continued launching the warship’s missiles in waves, while the Punisher guns sought out the incoming enemy warheads.

“The others are hard to explain,” said Grisham. “A city in the middle of a forest. Far to the west is a mountain range.”

“I do not know the place,” said Revixin. “But I will find it.”

Grisham tried to describe another of the target locations with no greater success. Even so, he didn’t give up and went through each of the locations where he’d detected the Ax’Kol shuttles exiting lightspeed. Revixin and his crew identified four out of seven, but the Kijol declared that the other three could potentially be dozens of locations.

“I’ll bring the Voltran to the planet, Admiral,” said Grisham. On the sensors, the opposing Indredalus was ablaze with plasma. “This engagement here will soon be done.”

“Very well,” said Revixin. For a moment, he didn’t speak, but the channel stayed open. “The Ax’Kol cannot be allowed to establish themselves, human.”

“I understand that, Admiral,” said Grisham. “I hope to lead your warships to the targets. If not, I’ll—” he paused, unsure if he wanted to make the commitment. “Do I have your clearance to do what must be done?”

“You have my clearance, human.”

The comms went dead and Grisham gave his full focus to the Indredalus. Wave after wave of missiles crashed into the enemy battleship, but it stubbornly refused to break up. Grisham was about to order Deneuve to employ the psionics, when the Ax’Kol vessel’s nose section separated from the rest of its hull. The Erangol’s next Axar salvo struck a moment later and this was followed by the enormous detonations of Olin missiles.

“The Ax’Kol spaceship’s Punisher guns are no longer firing, sir,” said Lopez. “Its portside clusters should be reloaded by now and they haven’t launched.”

That was enough for Grisham. He instructed the Voltran to decelerate. “Contact the Erangol and tell Captain Ulos-Talior that we’re heading for the planet. Lieutenant Adler, ready the Voltran for lightspeed. The warship’s mind has numbered our targets. We’re aiming for the location of Shuttle 7.”

“Yes, sir. The command is sent,” said Adler.

“Captain, the Erangol acknowledges our intentions,” said Lopez. “They will follow us and will assist the local fleet.”

With the Voltran motionless, Grisham watched the wrecks of the Ax’Kol battleship and the carrier. Biological warships were resilient to plasma and he didn’t want either vessel to spring an unwanted surprise. Talior was still in grave danger and the slightest delay might result in millions of casualties – or perhaps even the loss of the planet.

“Admiral Revixin advises that his fleet has destroyed a second of the Ax’Kol shuttles,” said Bishop.

Grisham nodded. This was a real balancing act for the Kijol. They had to destroy the incoming shuttles, without losing the entirety of the defence fleet at same time. At the moment, Grisham didn’t know how many of Admiral Revixin’s warships remained operational. The engagement had been underway for some time, and it was likely that both sides had suffered losses.

“One minute and we go,” said Adler. “The Voltran’s mind detects that Shuttle 7 is high in the planet’s atmosphere and travelling at approximately twenty kilometres per second.”

As far as the Voltran could discern, two of the Ax’Kol shuttles had already landed, but those were in locations recognized by Admiral Revixin and Grisham intended to leave them to the Kijol. In truth, he had no desire at all to launch the Voltran’s weapons at the planet and was hoping to avoid a situation where he was forced to do so.

“Ten seconds,” said Adler.

Grisham took one last look at the wreckage of the Indredalus, at the broken carrier, and at the Erangol, with its hull decayed by psionic attacks. Then, the Voltran entered lightspeed. The warship’s sensors went offline for a moment and he cursed under his breath as he waited for the feeds to re-establish.

“Sensors coming up,” said Lopez.

The topside feeds were of bright blue sky, while those on the warship’s flanks were of the planet’s far horizon. Grisham saw rolling hills of green, darker patches of forest, and dense banks of clouds rolling in from the north. On the underside feeds, a Kijol city was visible a hundred kilometres below. The order and the colours he remembered from Savixor were the same here and the sensors picked out the movement of countless vehicles and low-flying transports.

It's just another day to the people living here. Most won’t even know what horror is coming for them.

The thought was enough to make Grisham’s simmering anger intensify until he could feel the blood pounding in his temples.

“Find that Ax’Kol shuttle,” he snarled, holding the Voltran motionless.

Without thinking, he reached out with his senses and located the target. There were thousands upon thousands of Ax’Kol on the shuttle and their overlapping thoughts were a dark stain that was inscrutable to him.

In a moment, Grisham had adjusted the sensors so that one of the underside arrays was focused on the enemy vessel. The shuttle was at a two-hundred-kilometre altitude and descending vertically towards the centre of the city – a place of tall buildings, parks, and wide thoroughfares. Friction smoke poured from the vessel’s hull and left a trail extending far in its wake.

Now that it had exited the bays of the Engarvax, the shuttle appeared somehow much larger, and Grisham pictured the Ax’Kol waiting gleefully for the flank doors to open, so they could sweep through the city.

Not this time.

“Commander Deneuve—”

“I see it, Captain. Underside Death cluster one, tubes one to four: targeted at enemy vessel and fired.”

The four missiles streaked from the Voltran’s underside launch tubes. A spray of countermeasures fire from the Ax’Kol shuttle smashed one of the warheads into pieces, but the other three struck the target. A flash of detonation hid the transport for a moment, and then it became once more visible, though now it had been reduced to freefalling wreckage.

“Give it another two missiles, Commander,” said Grisham.

Deneuve obliged and the additional two explosions were enough to tear the falling shuttle apart. Amongst the fire and the wreckage, Grisham saw flecks of black, which he fancied might be incinerated Ax’Kol.

“There’re going to be casualties on the ground when that debris lands, Captain,” said Lopez.

“There’s nothing we can do about that,” said Grisham. It sounded cold-hearted, but he didn’t mean it that way. “This job is done. On to the next one.”

He extended his senses once more. Three of the Ax’Kol shuttles were still operational. The closest one to the Voltran was also the highest in the atmosphere, while the other two would soon set down. Communications with the Kijol were such that Grisham didn’t know the positions of their warships. Past experience had taught him to recognize situations where the only good decision was one made quickly.

“Shuttle 5 is east,” he said, referring to the enemy craft which was nearest. “That’s our target.”

Grisham instructed the Voltran’s engines into a state of maximum thrust. The warship accelerated flank first and then he introduced rotation so that its nose would be aimed directly at the Ax’Kol transport. Leaving a trail of sonic booms as it went, the Voltran tore through the planet’s atmosphere.

This battle wasn’t yet done.

TWENTY-ONE

“Nine hundred klicks to target,” said Lopez.

“There’s a Kijol Obliterator heading across the northern horizon, Captain,” said Bishop. “It’s already engaged with an Ax’Kol warship.”

Grisham checked the feed. Three thousand kilometres away, the two vessels were exchanging fire high up where the atmosphere gave way to outer space. The Obliterator was all angles and deflective faces, with its sweeping blades visible even from here, while the Ax’Kol warship was curved with winglike protrusions.

Orange flames trailed from both warships and the feed was so sharp that Grisham could see pinpoint specks of missile propulsions and the bright flashes of their explosions. A white web of gauss tracers connected the two vessels and the Obliterator’s scrambler cannisters flashed in spheres of crackling blue against the infinite dark of outer space.

Although the Kijol vessel was larger in size and mass, Grisham guessed it was evenly matched with its opponent. Both warships had suffered in the engagement and the outcome was too close to call.

“They’re heading for the same place as we are, Captain,” said Bishop.

“Commander Deneuve, let’s give the Obliterator some assistance,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. Portside Death clusters one to three: targeted at enemy warship and fired. Punishers set to automatic track and destroy. I reckon the Voltran is ready for psionics.”

“I agree, but hold until I give the order, Commander,” said Grisham.

The Voltran’s missiles accelerated from their clusters and sped towards the Ax’Kol spaceship. At the same time, Punisher fire raked into the enemy craft. Hopefully, Grisham thought, the fusillade of gauss slugs would knock out some of the Ax’Kol missiles as they emerged from their launch tubes.

“Four confirmed detonations on the target warship,” said Deneuve.

“I’ve detected a second Ax’Kol warship, sir,” said Bishop. “This one is coming from the south-west. It’s on a convergent course with the Voltran.”

“The Ax’Kol are moving to protect their shuttles,” said Grisham. “This could get messy.”

“Rear Death clusters one to three: targeted at enemy vessel #2 and fired,” said Deneuve.

“We should have visibility on the Ax’Kol shuttle in the next few seconds, Captain,” said Lopez.

“The Voltran has been hit by a psionic: suppress,” said Kinsey. “We were not shut down.”

Grisham held the Voltran steady, his mind racing. If the Ax’Kol fleet had descended close to the planet in order to protect their shuttles, or in pursuit of the Kijol fleet, then the wreckage of combat might flatten whole cities, and the shockwaves of impact would do even more damage.

“Missile launch detected from enemy vessel #2,” said Deneuve. “Three of our own missiles successfully detonated.”

“A Kijol Eternus is entering the planet’s atmosphere two thousand kilometres from our position, sir,” said Bishop. “Missile launch detected from the Eternus – it’s not the Erangol – I guess it’s Admiral Revixin’s warship Liovalan. The Eternus has activated its Dasor turrets.”

Grisham didn’t like the way this engagement was going. With the Engarvax defeated, he’d been drawn into the combat at Talior, where he’d hoped to destroy the Ax’Kol shuttles and perhaps assist the Kijol with some mopping up. Now, it seemed as if the Voltran was going to end up in the middle of two opposing fleets as they raced across the planet in pursuit of the incoming transports.

“We have to destroy the transports quickly,” said Grisham angrily. “Then, we can hopefully draw the Ax’Kol warships away from the planet.”

Some of the incoming Ax’Kol missiles were destroyed by Dasor fire from the Eternus. The remainder of the wave was neutralised by the Voltran’s Punishers.

On the horizon, a Kijol city – the Ax’Kol shuttle’s destination - came into view. This city was on the shore of an ocean, and boats of many colours floated in a vast harbour. Grisham concentrated on the feeds, but there were thousands of Kijol shuttles above the city and the quantity of traffic was making it hard to pick out his target.

“Find it,” he growled.

“Enemy shuttle number 5 located!” yelled Lopez.

The Ax’Kol transport was at a fifteen-kilometre altitude and heading down fast. From what Grisham could tell, its crew were aiming to land in a part of the city that was made up predominantly of accommodation domes.

“Blow them to pieces, Commander.”

“Yes, sir. Forward Death cluster one, tubes one to six: fired.”

Punisher fire from the two Ax’Kol warships broke all six missiles apart and Grisham cursed at the sight. However, the Voltran’s high velocity had already carried it over the city and the enemy shuttle wasn’t far ahead.

“Forward Death cluster one, tubes seven to twelve: fired,” said Deneuve. “Forward Death clusters two and three: fired.”

“Our missiles have been trapped in a psionic: slow, Captain,” said Lopez.

Grisham’s mind ran through the options. He could target the shuttle with a psionic: suppress, but he didn’t think that would kill all the Ax’Kol. The next option was a psionic: wither attack, but Grisham suspected that would only affect the shuttle, not its passengers, and he reckoned those passengers would easily survive a fall to the ground.

“Focus the Punisher turrets on the shuttle, Commander,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

The Voltran’s gauss guns acquired the new target and their slugs thundered into the shuttle, distorting its stern and topsides in only a moment. In a few seconds, the transport would land and Grisham would be forced to bring the Voltran round so as to maintain the Punisher barrage as the Ax’Kol exited the vessel. With the enemy warships closing in and the other transports still to deal with, Grisham didn’t want to delay here chasing down fleeing Ax’Kol ground troops with gauss fire.

Luckily, the Kijol were far from passive in the fate of their planet. First, an Axar projectile struck the shuttle, crushing it and sending it into a spin. A split second later, missiles fired from both the Obliterator and the Eternus struck the enemy vessel. The explosion was immense, and Grisham knew there was no possibility any of the Ax’Kol had survived.

“That leaves two surviving shuttles, Captain,” said Bishop. “If we bank north, we can take out Shuttle 4. After that, Shuttle 6 will be within a thousand klicks.”

Grisham didn’t stop to watch the falling wreckage of the last transport. He altered course and piloted the Voltran towards the location of Shuttle 4.

“I’ve detected two additional Ax’Kol warships within our sensor arcs, Captain,” said Lopez. “And a Kijol Achirus.”

Missiles flew in progressively greater numbers and every warship within sensor sight was blazing with plasma. The Kijol understood the danger to their planet and they appeared to be dividing their fire amongst the opposing warships, so as to reduce the Ax’Kol offensive capabilities without bringing their warships crashing down onto the planet’s surface.

“Ten seconds and we’ll have visibility on Shuttle 4,” said Bishop.

“The Voltran has suffered eight Death missile detonations on its portside rear section, Captain,” said Adler.

“We have been targeted by another psionic: suppress,” said Kinsey. “The Voltran has not been shut down.”

“The Voltran has suffered two Death missile detonations on its stern,” said Adler.

“We have been targeted by a psionic: wither,” said Kinsey. “The Voltran has resisted the attack.”

“I’ve been granted access to the Kijol local fleet comms network!” said Lopez. “Ten Ax’Kol warships are operational, and the Kijol are down to six, plus the Voltran.”

For both fleets to have such reduced numbers, the fighting must have been brutal, Grisham thought. Given the initial disparity, the Kijol had by far the better of it up to now, even though it sounded like they’d lose in the end.

Grisham had plenty of updates to listen to and plenty of warships in the vicinity, but he kept most of his attention on the forward feeds. “Come on, come on,” he muttered, hoping to spot the enemy transport quickly. He could sense the Ax’Kol ground troops were still grouped and that meant they hadn’t exited the shuttle yet.

The outskirts of a city came into sight over the northern horizon. It was surrounded by extensive farmlands, and everything looked green and peaceful. The reality was different. Warships both friendly and hostile were racing across Talior, and, Grisham realised, the Kijol fleet might turn out to be as much of a threat to the city’s people as the Ax’Kol. If that shuttle landed and its occupants exited into the city, Admiral Revixin would have little choice but to order an incendiary deployment.

“I’ve located the shuttle, Captain!” said Bishop.

It was a good spot. The transport was at a low altitude, and it was almost lost among the background detail. In seconds, it would be out of sight between the buildings until the Voltran was close enough to gain a top-down view.

“Destroy that shuttle, Commander Deneuve.”

“Yes, sir. Targeting the enemy vessel with all available Punisher guns.”

The Ax’Kol transport was struck with such intensity that it was forced off course. It collided with the upper levels of a high building made from glass and steel. The wall of the structure crumpled with the impact and the shuttle became stuck, as if it had been caught on one of the support beams. Punisher slugs hit the snagged vessel in their thousands.

“Sir, some of the Ax’Kol might escape into the building,” said Deneuve.

Grisham understood the recommendation that she was thinking but didn’t want to say out loud. The Voltran’s forward tubes were fully loaded and if he ordered a launch from all six clusters, the closing enemy warships wouldn’t stand a chance of shooting down all seventy-two warheads.

Shit, I have no choice.

Grisham opened his mouth to give the order, but then the upper half of the building disappeared in the midst of a vast explosion. The Kijol hadn’t hesitated.

“That’s the shuttle taken care of,” said Deneuve.

“Shuttle 6 is a thousand kilometres north, Captain,” said Bishop.

Grisham banked the Voltran. On the sensors, he could see that the building was gone and most of the surrounding structures were in flames. The Kijol had learned the cost of failure when it came to the Ax’Kol, and that meant no half measures.

Grisham shook his head. “How long before humanity is forced to do the same?”

Nobody had an answer and neither did Grisham. The time to confront the horrors of war was not in the middle of an engagement like this, and he pushed every distraction from his mind. In the short time it had taken the Voltran to fly over the last city, another Kijol warship had appeared in sensor sight, along with two further Ax’Kol vessels.

“The Ax’Kol must know this attack on Talior has failed,” said Kinsey. “They only have one shuttle left and we know where to find it.”

“We learned at Savixor that the enemy will attack time and again until they come out on top,” said Grisham. “The ground troops on even that one shuttle might conceivably raise an army of corpses large enough to sweep across an entire continent.”

“Thirty seconds and we’ll have visibility on Shuttle 6,” said Lopez.

Such was the Voltran’s velocity that its nose section was glowing with heat. The colour of the friction fire was tinged with green and blue and the smoke it produced was dense and of the darkest grey. Smoke trails from the other warships left thick lines across the Talior sky and were joined by countless smaller trails of missile propulsions and the heat streaks of gauss projectiles. Every few moments, blue spheres of scrambler bombs would flash and then quickly vanish.

As far as fireworks displays went, this was once of the more impressive examples Grisham had ever witnessed. The Voltran played its part. Commander Deneuve fired missiles and divided the Punisher guns between defending the worst-damaged of the Kijol defence fleet and the Voltran. Grisham had not yet given the order to resume psionic attacks and he could feel the warship’s mind gaining strength. It wasn’t nearly ready for another extended exchange, but nor was it exhausted.

“Ten seconds and we’ll have visibility on the shuttle,” said Bishop. “Oh shit.”

An orange glow on the far horizon told Grisham exactly what oh shit meant, even before Bishop said the words.

“We were too late, Captain,” said Lopez. “According to the Kijol comms, the Ax’Kol shuttle set down a short time ago. The Erangol happened to be over the city and Admiral Revixin ordered a deployment of incendiaries.”

Grisham’s hopes for a clean victory at Talior and a boost in the Kijol respect for humanity hadn’t worked out as planned. While the outcome might have been far worse for the planet, it was hard to call this a victory, particularly with ten of the enemy fleet still operational.

With this conflict as-yet undecided, Grisham readied himself for a seven-versus-ten, in which he was on the wrong side of the numbers.

TWENTY-TWO

“The Kijol fleet is heading for outer space, Captain,” said Lopez.

“They’re taking the conflict away from the planet,” said Grisham, instructing the Voltran to climb away from the planet at a velocity matching the Kijol warships.

He didn’t much want to see the result of the incendiary drop, but there it was on the underside feeds. An almost perfect circle in the centre of a huge city was burning brightly and he could only imagine how many hundreds of thousands – millions more likely – of the Kijol had died in order to destroy a few thousand Ax’Kol. Giving the order must have cost Admiral Revixin dearly, and the crew of the Erangol would have felt the same pain as they enacted the order.

“Commander Deneuve, when we are a safe distance from Talior, focus fire on the most damaged enemy vessels and destroy them. Make full use of the psionics.”

“Yes, sir.”

The two fleets climbed above the planet’s atmosphere and into the vacuum. As they drew further from Talior, the Kijol warships drew together and the Ax’Kol vessels did likewise.

Having restrained themselves so far, in order to minimise the quantity of wreckage landing on Talior, the Kijol did so no longer. The Liovalan and the Erangol unleashed everything they had on the Ax’Kol fleet, as did the single remaining Obliterator heavy, the one Achirus cruiser and the two new gen Aeon destroyers.

In turn, the Ax’Kol – their fleet reduced to a single Indredalus battleship, a couple of heavies and the rest being smaller vessels - fired missiles and targeted the Kijol warships with psionic: decay attacks.

During the short time it took the two fleets to escape the planet’s atmosphere, Grisham manoeuvred the Voltran such that it was apart from both the Kijol and the Ax’Kol. He’d noticed that the members of the enemy fleet were no longer focusing their psionics on his warship and he had a feeling that was because the Voltran’s much stronger mind was shaking off the attacks so easily. Grisham thought it likely the Ax’Kol intended to first deal with the Kijol – whose warships were fitted with enormous quantities of conventional weaponry – before concentrating on the Voltran.

The Ax’Kol weren’t going to have it so easy.

“Portside and topside Death clusters one to three: targeted at enemy vessel #2 and fired,” said Deneuve. “Forward Death clusters one to three: targeted at enemy vessel #2 and fired. Psionic: wither targeted on enemy vessel #2. Portside Death clusters four to six: targeted at enemy vessel #2 and fired. Psionic: wither targeted on enemy vessel #2.”

“Both wither attacks were successful!” said Lopez.

On the sensor feed, Grisham saw the affected warship shrivel and crumple beneath the weight of the two psionic attacks. The flesh of its hull split apart and pieces of it, still smoking from the high-velocity flight though the Talior atmosphere, broke away and tumbled into the void. A moment later, nearly half of the Voltran’s missile wave, having evaded the enemy countermeasures, crashed into the stricken vessel and tore out most of its midsection. Then, a colossal explosion – Kijol-launched Olins – followed and the warship was finished.

“Missile launches detected from enemy vessels #3, #4 and #5,” said Lopez.

“Psionic defence: slow,” said Deneuve.

“The first two waves of enemy missiles have been trapped,” said Bishop. “Dasor and Punisher fire has destroyed the incoming warheads.”

“Topside Death clusters four to six: targeted at enemy vessel #1 and fired,” said Deneuve. “Psionic suppress on enemy vessel #1. Forward Death clusters four to six: targeted at enemy vessel #1 and fired.”

“The psionic: suppress has shut down enemy vessel #1!” said Kinsey.

Missiles crashed into the Ax’Kol warship, which was already damaged from the ongoing combat. Plasma erupted and spread across its hull until most of it was alight.

“The Kijol have destroyed enemy vessel #8,” said Bishop. “Shit, the Aeon Uvisar is breaking up.”

While the other members of the crew provided their updates, Deneuve talked almost nonstop. As Grisham rolled the Voltran, she fired missiles from the loaded clusters and targeted the Ax’Kol with psionics. Suppress attacks shut down a second enemy vessel and then a third. Missiles tore one apart and the other followed soon after.

“The Obliterator – the Antevius - isn’t going to hold together much longer,” said Lopez. “The Erangol is in a bad way and the Liovalan isn’t looking much better.”

The engagement was balanced on a knife edge and if one of the Kijol battleships broke up before the Ax’Kol lost another warship, then Grisham reckoned the local defence force would end up defeated and the Voltran would go down soon after.

“Commander Deneuve,” he said. “Give it everything.”

“I already am, sir. Psionic: suppress on enemy vessel #7. Psionic: suppress on enemy vessel #8, Psionic: suppress on enemy vessel #9 – that’s their one and only Indredalus. Shit, the last psionic: suppress attack was not generated.”

“Enemy vessel #8 has been shut down,” said Bishop. “Enemy vessel #7 has resisted the suppression.”

The suppressed warship started drifting immediately. A half dozen inbound Kijol missiles struck its topsides and more were on their way. Meanwhile, enemy vessel #7 - this being one of the smaller Ax’Kol warships - was pounded by a half-dozen Axar shots. A moment later, a pair of Olin missiles exploded on its nose section and these were followed by twenty or more Apiar warheads.

“That vessel is out of it,” said Grisham.

“Underside and starboard Death missile clusters one to three targeted at enemy Indredalus and fired,” said Deneuve.

Half of the salvo evaded the weakening Punisher fire from the Ax’Kol fleet and detonated against the hull of the target vessel. The last Indredalus had sustained moderate damage already, but now it was becoming a greater focus for the Kijol missiles. The biological matter of its hull was tough – as Grisham well knew – and the Ax’Kol spaceship sped on, its velocity undiminished.

“The enemy could have used a psionic: slow there, but they didn’t,” said Lopez.

“They’re running out of steam, Lieutenant, the same way we are.”

Fortunately, the Kijol fleet wasn’t running out of missiles and they continued firing in staggered waves. With only their Punishers to rely on, the Ax’Kol were taking constant damage.

“Underside and starboard Death missile clusters four to six: targeted at enemy Indredalus and fired.”

“Try the psionics again, Commander.”

“Yes, sir. Psionic: suppress targeted at enemy Indredalus.”

“They got shut down!” yelled Adler.

Fifteen or twenty warheads exploded on the Ax’Kol vessel’s flank. Grisham bared his teeth, as if his anger could force the enemy vessel to break up. It didn’t happen and the target spaceship’s propulsion restarted.

“The Erangol has taken a couple of psionic: decay attacks,” said Kinsey. “Oh crap, it’s had enough. The Erangol’s Charos drive has failed.”

While the loss of the Eternus was a blow, the Ax’Kol quickly lost another of their smaller vessels. The balance had shifted and only the Indredalus had the potency to tip the scales back in favour of the enemy.

“Commander, the psionics,” said Grisham. The Voltran’s mind was already at its limits, but this was a situation where one successful psionic attack might just be enough. He rolled the warship and the loaded portside and topside tubes came onto target.

“Yes, sir. Psionic: suppress on enemy Indredalus. Portside and topside Death clusters one to three: targeted and fired.”

“Their propulsion cut out again, Captain!” said Kinsey.

“Our missile wave was caught in a psionic: slow,” said Adler. “One of those other Ax’Kol warships had something left in the bag.”

The Voltran wasn’t the only vessel targeting the Indredalus, and a dozen or more Kijol missiles struck the Ax’Kol battleship, including at least one Olin.

“Portside and topside Death clusters four to six: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve.

The seventy-two missiles streaked out into sporadic Punisher fire. Many were destroyed by gauss projectiles, but almost forty struck the Indredalus. Even before the plasma blasts had begun to recede, Grisham knew this was a killer blow. Still, it wasn’t time for complacency. Only the Voltran’s rear clusters were loaded and he turned the warship so they were aimed at the Indredalus.

“Finish them, Commander.”

“Yes, sir. Rear clusters one to three: targeted at enemy Indredalus and fired.”

The Ax’Kol battleship had suffered enough. When fifteen of this missile wave exploded, its burned flesh was torn apart and the vessel started breaking up. Yet more missiles from the Kijol fleet detonated and the Indredalus separated into three.

It was the deciding moment.

“We’ve got this,” said Grisham. “Let’s finish what’s left.”

The Ax’Kol fleet was down to only three of its smaller vessels and each was scarred from plasma. Their hulls glowed in patches and smoke billowed thickly. The Kijol fleet wasn’t faring much better, but they weren’t relying on exhausted psionics.

For another couple of minutes, the two sides exchanged fire, and then it was done. The last of the Ax’Kol spaceships was destroyed and its burning pieces spun away into the darkness.

“Done,” said Grisham. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Certainly this was a victory, though it had come at a cost.

“The Kijol fleet is returning to Talior, Captain,” said Lopez.

Grisham banked to follow. “Give me a status report,” he said.

The planet wasn’t so far away as he’d imagined – the manoeuvrings of combat were such that the Voltran and the defence fleet were within a quarter of a million kilometres of Talior. He watched the forward feeds for a moment, reminding himself what he and his crew had accomplished.

“The Voltran took some damage in that engagement, Captain,” said Adler. “We’re not about to break apart, but judging from past experience, it’ll be a few weeks until the warship finishes healing itself.”

“And the Voltran’s mind is close to exhaustion,” said Deneuve. “It’s going to need a day or two before it’s back to full strength.”

“I have Admiral Revixin on the comms, sir,” said Lopez. “Open channel?”

“Yes, open channel,” Grisham confirmed. “Admiral,” he said in greeting.

“Captain Grisham, this engagement ended in our favour, though the planet itself is doomed. The Ax’Kol surely did not expect such resistance, but they will return.”

“About that resistance,” said Grisham. “Your local defence fleet was significantly outnumbered, yet when the Voltran joined the engagement, the enemy had lost many warships.”

“The planet was protected by the Deovol platform,” said Revixin. “The defence station caught the enemy unawares and destroyed many before it was in turn destroyed.”

“Deovol platform?” asked Grisham. “You didn’t mention this before, Admiral.”

“No, human, I did not,” said Revixin, in tones that indicated he wouldn’t be drawn into a discussion. “You fought well, and without the Voltran, I believe the victory would have been achieved with a finer margin.”

“Finer margin, my ass!” said Deneuve, off-comms. “If it wasn’t for us, the Ax’Kol ground troops would be rampaging across the planet by now.”

Grisham raised a hand. “We know that, Commander, and Admiral Revixin knows it too. We’ve fought the Kijol for more than a decade – they aren’t going to come right out and admit they’d have lost a planet if it hadn’t been for the Human Federation’s assistance.”

“I know, but it still sucks,” said Deneuve.

“What next, Admiral?” asked Grisham, speaking once more on the comms channel.

“I will communicate with others in the Kijol military. We will decide how best to ensure the safety of those living on Talior. What will you do, human?”

“I’m thinking on it, Admiral. I was sent here to assist the Kijol and I believe that mission is accomplished.”

“Yes, Captain Grisham. Your deeds here will not go unreported.”

“Well, that’s a bit more like it,” said Adler off-comms.

“Admiral Revixin, is it your belief that humanity and the Kijol would be better off with a permanent peace?” asked Grisham. “Perhaps even an alliance?”

The Kijol was silent for a while. “Yes,” he said at last. “However, you must be aware that each human attack on our warships pushes that possibility further away. Your efforts here will be talked about and my peers will nod and say that perhaps humanity is to be trusted. Then, they will hear that a human battleship engaged one of our Achirus cruisers and the scales will tip the other way.”

“Do these successful partnerships between our two sides mean so little, Admiral?”

Revixin made a sound, which might have been laughter. “I would not go so far as that, Captain Grisham. Your name is spoken among us, but trust will take time. The attacks on our fleet must stop.”

“Yes.”

Grisham didn’t want to discuss the Human Federation’s internal divisions. He guessed the Kijol had a good idea what was happening, but he didn’t want to make a comment he’d later regret.

“If you truly want to accomplish something which will make everyone in the Kijol empire take notice, you will destroy the dark sphere. It has been a stain on our pride for many decades.”

“Won’t it be a stain on your pride if a Human Federation warship collapses the sphere?”

The sound of laughter came once more. “You do not understand us, human. Were you to destroy the sphere, it would happen with your warship being part of the 10th Sector Fleet, under the command of Admiral Kiolzan.”

It’s all about the message.

“I’ll need to think on it, Admiral.” The conversation was over for now, and Grisham cut the channel.

“That wasn’t too subtle,” said Deneuve.

“Nope,” said Grisham. He pursed his lips in thought. “We’ve just learned that the Kijol will withhold information from us even when we’re trying to help them. If we’d known about the Deovol platform, maybe we’d have done things differently.”

“What was the Deovol platform anyway?” asked Bishop. “A deep space Olin launcher?”

“That would be my guess,” said Grisham. “And a damned effective one if the results at Talior are anything to go by.”

“Top secret tech,” said Adler. “That’s probably why Admiral Revixin wouldn’t talk about it.”

“So the Kijol are desperate for us to take down the dark sphere,” said Grisham. “From our time inside the sphere, we’ve already concluded that the Ax’Kol use it as a muster point for their warships. Maybe there’s something else the Kijol aren’t telling us, but they’re crystal clear about what they want us to do.”

“Are you planning to return to Leoxval, Captain?” asked Deneuve. “With the psionic: focus, we might just be able to shut down the Inojor long enough for the 10th Sector Fleet to launch an attack.”

It was a question to which Grisham had no immediate answer.

TWENTY-THREE

“It seems to me the Kijol are deeper in the shit than they’re letting on,” said Adler. “They’re losing planets and they don’t have enough warships to stop it happening.”

“What’s the point you’re making, Lieutenant?” asked Grisham.

“I don’t know, Captain.” Adler laughed gruffly. “Maybe we’re helping the Human Federation more than we think. The Voltran is capable of feats that no other vessel – human or Kijol - can manage and the Kijol are obviously keen to make good use of our warship.”

“Maybe we should send a comm to Senator Maynard,” said Lopez. “He was the one who asked us to go on the mission to Leoxval in the first place.”

“What’s the comms travel time from here, Lieutenant?” asked Grisham.

“Approximately three-point-five days each way, Captain.”

“That’s a long time to wait for an answer,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. Maybe this time it’ll be worth the wait.”

The trouble with long-distance comms was that a two-way conversation was impossible. Grisham would send a recording to Maynard, with explicit requests for instruction. In turn, Maynard would send a response that would hopefully provide Grisham with everything he’d asked for, but which might in fact raise more questions and result in a net delay of seven days with nothing resolved. This was the reason high-ranking officers like Grisham were trusted – and expected – to make decisions without having to check in with base every time.

“Or we could just return home and tell Senator Maynard what a great job we did for the Kijol,” said Adler.

“That’ll be a journey time of a little over seven days, Captain,” said Lopez.

“At which point Senator Maynard might decide that he would prefer it if we returned to the Orital system,” said Deneuve. “Particularly if the Kijol send an advance comm telling him how much they’d appreciate us having another shot at bringing down the dark sphere.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone about the psionic: focus,” said Adler. “Nobody knows the Voltran’s capabilities but us.”

“And we don’t even report to Senator Maynard either,” said Bishop. “He’s not military, so it’s not like he can give us orders.”

“No, but that would be an easy enough problem for him to solve,” said Grisham. “Besides, we’ve thrown our lot in with Senator Maynard because we believe in what he’s trying to achieve.”

“It’s three days back to the Orital system and then six days from there to Shesa-2,” said Deneuve. “Nine days travel time isn’t much longer than seven.”

“That’s nine days on the assumption we aren’t killed in the undertaking of a mission we aren’t obliged to accept,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham waved his crew to silence while he considered the matter. By now, the Voltran was within twenty thousand kilometres of Talior, and he instructed the warship to circle the planet. He watched the feed while his mind worked through the options.

The choice, as ever, came down to risk versus reward.

Returning to Leoxval was high risk, however, many of the Ax’Kol warships he’d seen within the dark sphere had come to Talior and they wouldn’t be returning. Neither could those warships have alerted the Inojor to the fact the Voltran was not under Ax’Kol control, because comms didn’t penetrate the sphere.

In theory, therefore, Grisham could return to Leoxval and have a reasonable chance of launching a surprise attack on the Inojor. Once the dark sphere was down, he could leave the destruction of the Ax’Kol to Admiral Kiolzan and the 10th Sector Fleet.

With that done, he’d be free to return home having significantly boosted relations between the Human Federation and the Kijol.

“Screw it,” he said. “We’re returning to the dark sphere.” Grisham looked questioningly at his crew, to see if anyone would object.

Adler shrugged. “The Voltran has enough conventional ammunition for one more mission. It may as well be this one.”

“I’m hoping we won’t have to fire a single missile, Lieutenant.”

“Good luck with that, Captain.”

Grisham smiled. “Lieutenant Lopez, please inform Admiral Revixin of our intentions. Let him know we’d appreciate it if he sent an advance comm to Admiral Kiolzan advising what happened here at Talior.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez. A minute later, she was done. “Admiral Revixin has acknowledged, and he has already sent the comm.”

“Lieutenant Adler, prepare the Voltran for lightspeed. We’re returning to the Orital system. Aim for an arrival point a half-million klicks from the last known position of the 10th Sector Fleet.”

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “Three minutes and we’ll be on our way.”

The lightspeed timer fell to zero and the Voltran launched away from planet Talior. For a time, Grisham stayed on the bridge, playing recent events over in his mind. Aside from the incendiary deployment required to wipe out the single Ax’Kol shuttle which had landed, the mission was undoubtedly a success – despite his earlier misgivings. Not every victory could be entirely clean, he reminded himself.

Looking ahead, Grisham wondered if the Voltran would have the measure of the Inojor. He was already asking himself if this was a risk too far. The Kijol always seemed to want more and their gratitude wasn’t exactly overwhelming. Both sides would have to move on from the war and that wouldn’t be easy if the Kijol continued to be so demanding.

Grisham sighed inwardly and hoped that Maynard wasn’t so naïve that he’d pursue peace at all costs, even if the Kijol demanded constant appeasement. An accord was surely in the best interests of both species, but it would have to be one based on respect and a shared purpose.

He put the doubts from his mind. Human Federation warships – under Admiral Danner’s control – did, after all, keep attacking the Kijol, while the Kijol were maintaining the unofficial ceasefire. The aliens could be forgiven for wanting some additional evidence that humanity was serious about peace.

“I’m taking a break,” said Grisham suddenly.

Just thinking about Danner made his blood boil and he needed to stretch his legs to relieve some of the tension he was feeling. The engagement at Talior had taken its toll on both the warship and its crew. Already, the Voltran’s mind was showing signs of recovery from the strains of its psionic expenditure and Grisham reckoned that – for himself - a visit to the replicator followed by a few hours’ sleep would be enough.

The three-day return journey to Leoxval passed slowly, though Grisham was grateful for the break. As he’d hoped, all he needed was some downtime to recover from the stresses of the recent combat.

As the journey progressed, the Voltran became stronger and Grisham was sure its mind would be back to one hundred percent when the warship re-entered local space. The vessel’s hull would take much longer to heal, but if his intended attack plan worked out, the Voltran wouldn’t be exposed to any additional damage. Grisham wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself into a state of optimism or not, and he didn’t overanalyse.

With an hour to go before the Voltran arrived at the Orital system, the crew stood at their stations on the bridge. They were anxious and Grisham was feeling some of it too. He shifted from foot to foot and kept a too-close eye on the timer.

“I believe you’ve made the right choice coming back here, Captain,” said Adler. “But damn, I don’t want to face the Inojor again.”

“Neither do I, Lieutenant,” Grisham admitted. “However, the Voltran is different now. It’s stronger. All we’re going to do is lightspeed into the dark sphere on the far side of Leoxval from the Inojor. Then, we’ll ready the psionic: focus, head around the planet at high velocity and hit the death factory with a suppress attack as soon as it appears in our sensor arc.”

“Then, the dark sphere collapses, the 10th Sector Fleet attacks the Ax’Kol and we return home with a bunch of Kijol medals pinned to our chests,” said Deneuve. She grinned. “Easy.”

“Yes,” said Adler flatly. “Easy.”

“If the suppression fails, we’ll hightail it away and do our best to escape,” said Grisham. “This is the same as any other mission, folks. We hope to succeed, but we have a chance to fail and be killed. Like always, we’ll work together to make sure the outcome is in our favour.”

“And once we’re done, we can return to the murk of Human Federation politics,” said Bishop.

“Maybe we can steer clear of those politics for a while,” said Kinsey hopefully. “We could keep the Voltran somewhere out of sight until it’s fully healed.”

“Maybe,” said Grisham. He didn’t want to commit to an answer.

“Have you got something in mind, Captain?” asked Deneuve, her eyes narrowed.

“Nothing I’m willing to share, Commander. Not yet.”

Deneuve nodded once and turned her gaze away.

She knows.

Grisham didn’t say anything else and the rest of the crew descended into their own thoughts. The lightspeed timer fell and he readied himself for the Voltran’s arrival at Leoxval. With each passing minute, the anxiety he was feeling climbed, though he couldn’t understand the reason for it. Grisham had been on dangerous missions before and his usual feelings were of excitement and anticipation, with anxiety a distant third or fourth.

“Two minutes!” said Adler.

Grisham made a last-moment journey into the grey. Although the Voltran’s mind had merged with the consciousness added by the Inojor, it felt no different than it had before, and the souls swirled around him in such great numbers that they were beyond his counting. He withdrew, confident that the warship was fully recharged from its recent engagement.

“Ten seconds!” yelled Adler.

Counting those seconds down in his head, Grisham waited for the Voltran to re-enter local space. The anxiety hadn’t gone anywhere, and he wondered if it was because he just wanted to get this over with in order that he could return to Human Federation territory.

The Voltran emerged from lightspeed and Grisham waited for the sensors to come online. A couple of seconds later, the feeds established and he looked into darkness.

“Get me a sensor lock on the dark sphere,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez.

“Local scans underway,” said Bishop. “There’s nothing of concern so far.”

Everything was going as expected. Then, Lopez announced a discovery that caught Grisham entirely by surprise.

“Sir, the dark sphere is gone,” she said. “We have sensor visibility on Leoxval.”

“I’m accessing the feed,” said Grisham.

The planet was a little more than half a million kilometres from the Voltran and, sure enough, it was no longer surrounded by the dark sphere. Grisham gazed upon a surface of drab greys and browns. Even the planet’s oceans were almost completely muddy with impurities.

“The local area scans are finished and clear,” said Bishop.

“Obtain an enhancement on the planet, Lieutenant,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

“Scan for comms receptors, Lieutenant Lopez,” Grisham continued. “I need to speak with Admiral Kiolzan to find out what happened here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham clenched his teeth as he waited for the feed enhancement and for Lopez to finish the receptor sweep. Although the dark sphere was gone, he had a nagging feeling that something was badly wrong.

“The receptor sweep has come back with nothing, Captain,” said Lopez. “Now the dark sphere is gone, it’s possible that Admiral Kiolzan relocated the 10th Sector Fleet to another location that isn’t so close to the planet. He might be out of range of the sweep.”

“He might,” said Grisham. “Lieutenant Bishop, is the enhancement complete?”

“Yes, sir. The planet has been subjected to some impacts that weren’t there on our last visit.”

Grisham accessed the feed. The extra details revealed by the enhancement showed the extent of the damage suffered by the planet. Debris had crashed down in numerous locations, some of it forming vast craters. In places, grey alloy protruded above the surface of the southern ocean and Grisham was sure the impacts had created vast waves. Now, the waters had receded and dragged back with them the detritus from the decayed land.

“I’m detecting some wreckage in the planet’s orbit, Captain,” said Lopez. “I estimate it to be at a fifty-thousand-klick altitude. We’re too far away for me to be sure how many warships were involved, but the visible debris is definitely Kijol.”

Having come all this way thinking he might show the Kijol what good allies the Human Federation would make, Grisham was rapidly starting to think he was witnessing the aftermath of a catastrophe for the Kijol fleet.

He watched the feeds, while Lopez and Bishop hunted for additional information about what had happened here at Leoxval.

All the while, Grisham asked himself where the Inojor had gone.

TWENTY-FOUR

After five minutes, Lieutenant Lopez offered a tentative conclusion. “Based on the estimated mass of the wreckage I’ve detected so far, I’d say that between ten and fifteen Kijol warships were destroyed here. There is some Ax’Kol debris as well, but maybe only from five or six different vessels.”

“Admiral Kiolzan was in command of ninety-four warships,” said Grisham. “What happened to the others?”

“As Lieutenant Lopez suggested earlier, the 10th Sector Fleet might have been called elsewhere,” said Deneuve. “If Admiral Kiolzan left behind a fraction of his forces to watch the dark sphere, they could have been subjected to a surprise attack and then overwhelmed.”

It was a logical enough explanation, but Grisham wasn’t convinced. As far as Admiral Kiolzan was aware, the Voltran had vanished into the sphere and simply not returned. Since the dark sphere had been here for decades, there’d been no reason for him to leave a significant portion of his fleet here to watch, particularly with there already being monitoring hardware positioned around the planet. Two or three warships, Grisham could have believed, but not ten or fifteen.

“Not buying it?” asked Deneuve.

“No,” said Grisham. He had a sudden thought. “Lieutenant Lopez, Lieutenant Bishop, have either of you scanned the last known location of the 10th Sector Fleet?”

“No, sir,” said Bishop. “I finished the local scans and then I turned my attention to the planet.”

“I haven’t scanned that area either, Captain,” said Lopez. “I’ll get on it now.”

The finding didn’t take long.

“Oh crap,” said Lopez. “Sir, you need to check out the feed.”

Grisham did so. One of the portside arrays was focused on a total of six matte grey objects about half a million kilometres away. The objects – warships – were stationary and the distance was too great to make out anything much beyond the fact of their presence.

“How many others?” asked Grisham.

“Scanning,” said Lopez.

“Lieutenant Bishop, direct a focused comms receptor sweep in that area. When you’re finished, run another local area scan.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Trouble,” said Deneuve. “I’m getting that feeling.”

“Me too,” said Grisham. “But let’s make sure we’re not missing something obvious before we start getting too worried.”

“Sir, the comms sweep has not located a receptor,” said Bishop. “I’ll run another local area scan.”

“And keep watch on the planet as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain, I’ve detected twenty-three stationary Kijol warships so far,” said Lopez.

“Keep counting,” said Grisham.

“This is the bulk of the 10th Sector Fleet,” said Deneuve. “Why no comms receptors?”

“There’s a chance Admiral Kiolzan is running silent,” said Grisham. “But why the hell would some of his fleet be destroyed and the rest of it be stationary a half-million klicks from the planet?”

Whatever the answer to that question, Grisham didn’t think he was going to like it.

“I’m up to forty-eight stationary vessels now, Captain,” said Lopez.

“The local area sweep has come back empty,” said Bishop. “And there is no visible activity on the planet, but the range isn’t good for spotting fine details, sir.”

“I appreciate that, Lieutenant, but continue scanning. I think something terrible happened to the Kijol fleet and I want to know what it was.”

“I’ll see what I can find, Captain.”

Five minutes passed and Lopez declared that she had located seventy-two warships of varying size, and they were in a tight cluster.

“There could be more hidden from our view by the other members of the fleet,” she said. “In fact, it’s a near-certainty.”

“And they’re all Kijol?” asked Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

The next step was to head in for a closer look, but Grisham was reluctant. He could handle unknowns, but he didn’t like this situation one little bit.

“We could leave the Orital system and go home,” said Deneuve.

“Is that your advice, Commander?”

“No, sir. We should find out what happened here.”

“I agree,” said Grisham. His instinct was telling him to get the hell away, but he felt an even stronger urge to stay and find out what had happened.

“Closing to a quarter of a million klicks will take just under six minutes on our sub-light propulsion,” said Adler.

“Let’s do that,” said Grisham.

He instructed the Voltran to maximum acceleration. The roar of the engines was comforting and the sound helped focus his mind. Once the warship was travelling at eight hundred kilometres per second, he allowed it to coast through the vacuum.

“I’ve run another receptor sweep, sir,” said Lopez. “It detected no open comms.”

“I’ve spotted a seventy-third Kijol warship amongst the stationary fleet, Captain,” said Bishop.

“Acknowledged,” said Grisham.

His body was pumping adrenaline, like it always did when he was heading into danger. He switched between the different sensor feeds, alert for anything which might be a threat. He saw nothing.

At a quarter of a million kilometres from the Kijol fleet, Grisham brought the Voltran to a standstill.

“Scan quickly,” he said. Detection was easier from a stationary warship, but Grisham felt vulnerable holding at a zero velocity. His scalp prickled.

“Sir, check the forward feed,” said Lopez. “This Kijol Obliterator has been struck by a psionic: decay. A big one.”

For long moments, Grisham stared at the heavy cruiser. The armour across every visible inch of its hull had darkened and its surface was pitted. A cloud of particles, which had fallen from the partly disintegrated alloy, surrounded the vessel and drifted slowly away. The effects of the decay were ongoing and Grisham wondered how fragile the armour of this warship had become.

“Even the Engarvax at Savixor wasn’t producing psionic: decays with anything like the same effect,” said Grisham.

“The Engarvax had four little minds,” said Deneuve. “Each one had limited psionic strength.”

“But not the Inojor,” said Grisham.

“Take a look at this Eternus, Captain,” said Lopez. “It’s just as badly affected as the Obliterator.”

“They all are,” said Bishop. “Every one of these warships has been decayed.”

“What stopped them attacking?” Grisham wondered. “Their armour is damaged, but they haven’t broken up.”

“Maybe the psionic: decay attack was so pervasive that it affected their Charos drives as well,” said Adler. “Shit, if the Inojor can neutralise a whole fleet so easily, then both the Kijol and the Human Federation are in real trouble.”

For another few minutes, Lopez and Bishop scanned the Kijol fleet. They located other vessels which had previously gone undetected. The final count was seventy-nine, which meant that fifteen warships of the 10th Sector Fleet had been destroyed at Leoxval. Perhaps a few had escaped into lightspeed, but Grisham was doubtful.

He pieced together the likely chain of events. “The Inojor deactivated the dark sphere and executed a lightspeed jump into the middle of the 10th Sector Fleet before the Kijol had a chance to react. A wide-area psionic: decay crippled most of Admiral Kiolzan’s warships, but the attack didn’t affect every vessel and those ones which survived were drawn into combat at Leoxval.”

Something didn’t add up and he wasn’t sure what – if anything – he was missing.

“If the psionic: decay shut those warships down, their life support systems would have gone offline,” said Adler. “But the Kijol would be in their combat suits, so they’d be sustained for many weeks.”

“The psionic: decay would likely have disabled all the external comms antennae on the Kijol warships,” said Bishop. “So their crews could be alive inside, but unable to communicate.”

“We’ve been away for six days,” said Grisham. “You’d have thought the Kijol would have investigated the disappearance of an entire damn fleet.”

“Perhaps they did investigate, sir,” said Deneuve. “What if some warships came here and were subsequently destroyed?”

Grisham felt a sudden coldness. The Inojor might still be somewhere close by. And yet, the Kijol crews were likely alive and stuck on those warships.

“We’re not a rescue vessel, Captain,” said Deneuve. “We have no hull-cutting equipment.”

“I know, Commander,” said Grisham. “I don’t trust the Kijol enough to allow them onto the Voltran anyway.” He reached out with his mind to see if he could detect anyone alive on the decayed warships. “The crews aren’t dead. I can sense them from here.”

The fact that Grisham could now identify the presence of Ax’Kol, Kijol and humans with his telepathy came as little surprise to him. He was fast coming to accept this new ability, and it certainly had its uses.

“Should I send a comm to Admiral Revixin, sir?” asked Lopez. “Just in case he hasn’t already figured out that something is wrong.”

“Yes, please,” said Grisham.

He chewed his lip while he pondered the situation. The least risky option was to warm up the Voltran’s lightspeed engine and leave this place. There again, Grisham had already accepted an element of risk coming here in the first place, so he thought it best to think things over before he ordered a run for the hills.

“Is there anyone alive on the planet, Captain?” asked Deneuve. “Maybe some of the Kijol escaped on shuttles.”

“I’ll check,” said Grisham.

He extended his telepathic power and hunted for signs of life. The usual headache started up and he gritted his teeth. Grisham quickly realised he’d bitten off far more than he could chew by attempting to run a telepathic sweep across an entire planet. Using the sensors to identify some of the larger pieces of wreckage on Leoxval, he tried again, this time focusing on specific areas.

“Nothing,” he said.

As he was searching for more likely pieces of wreckage, Grisham spotted the remains of an Ax’Kol warship. It had once been a mid-sized vessel, but it appeared to have lost several hundred metres from both ends of its hull. From this distance, it was difficult to be sure.

Grisham searched for Ax’Kol. The search came up blank – the enemy crew was dead – but he did detect the presence of another mind inside the debris. This mind was dormant.

“Let’s take a closer look at that Ax’Kol warship down there,” said Grisham.

“What are you planning, Captain?” asked Deneuve.

“I’m not sure, Commander,” said Grisham. “There’s a dormant mind on that enemy warship. I wonder if we can do something with it.”

“You mean extract the mind from the wreckage?”

“If we can.”

Deneuve didn’t ask how Grisham intended to achieve the extraction and he wouldn’t have had an answer to give anyway.

Instructing the Voltran to bank away from the stricken fleet, Grisham aimed the warship towards Leoxval. He kept a close eye on the feeds and instructed Lopez and Bishop to run constant scans. The feeling of danger which had been with Grisham since the Voltran arrived back in the Orital system hadn’t gone anywhere and it was stronger than the excitement he was feeling about the dormant mind in the Ax’Kol wreckage.

The Voltran flew on and Leoxval came ever closer.

TWENTY-FIVE

By the time the Voltran was within a hundred thousand kilometres of the planet, the details of its surface were perfectly clear. To Grisham’s eye, the sight of this world which had once hosted life and had then seen that life eradicated, was far more depressing than the sight of a planet which had never and would never be anything more than a barren sphere of stone. The ruined cities, the fields in which nothing now grew, the empty vehicles, the vast, dead forests – all spoke of the disaster visited upon Leoxval.

“This whole planet,” Grisham said. “It’s just one, huge, damned cemetery.”

“I’m trying not to think about it,” said Deneuve. “I’ll be glad when we’re done.”

“Me too,” said Grisham. “But I have to try this.”

The Voltran approached the planet’s upper atmosphere and Grisham instructed it to reduce velocity. Tough as the warship’s biological hull might be, it was damaged enough without having to suffer the additional particle bombardment of atmospheric friction.

Grisham kept most of his attention on the target Ax’Kol wreckage. The vessel had come down hard and fast, creating a six-kilometre crater. The resulting shockwave had flattened much of a nearby coastal city and fires still burned here and there among the buildings. At some point, a wave caused by other debris hitting the ocean had swept inland. Every street was flooded and water also covered the bottom of the impact crater.

Having had time to study the enemy vessel, Grisham was beginning to think it might have been an Indredalus and that he was looking at part of its midsection only. Where the other eighteen hundred metres of its hull had landed, he didn’t know.

Grisham brought the Voltran to a standstill, directly over the Ax’Kol wreckage at a five-thousand-metre altitude. He tried to avoid looking at the city, since when he did, his brain imagined all the people who’d lived there and their terror at what had come for them and their families. One day, the same thing might happen to a Human Federation planet.

“What happens now?” asked Adler.

“I’m not sure,” said Grisham. “I don’t know how this works any better than you do.”

Certainly, staring at the wreckage wasn’t going to accomplish anything, so Grisham travelled through the grey and into the Voltran’s mind. Having conveyed his wishes to the vortex of souls, he lingered, to find out what would happen. He sensed a change – an excitement, perhaps – but he received no communication in return.

Grisham withdrew from the mind and discovered that the Voltran was descending.

“You’ve done something,” said Deneuve.

“Yes,” said Grisham. “But I don’t know what’s about to happen.”

He didn’t interfere with the warship and it dropped lower and lower, until the Ax’Kol wreckage was no more than three hundred metres below. From this altitude, the sides of the impact crater seemed much higher than they had from above, and the water much deeper.

Grisham was linked to the underside feeds and through them, he saw thick cables emerge from the Voltran’s hull. Metre by metre, these cables extended towards the Ax’Kol wreckage below.

“This is like what happened when we were inside the Inojor’s bay,” said Bishop.

“I had no idea the Voltran could do this,” said Grisham, watching as the cables buried themselves into the wreckage below.

“There are no readings on the monitoring tools,” said Adler. “So I can’t tell you how long this is going to take.”

“We’re really doing this,” said Lopez. “We’re sucking out the brains of that warship.”

“I wouldn’t put it quite so crudely,” said Grisham. “If this works, we’ll have absorbed a third mind into the Voltran.”

“Will there be another psionic fight?” asked Kinsey.

“I hope not,” said Grisham. “The mind on that warship down there is dormant. I don’t think it’s aware what’s happening. When it wakes up, it should hopefully be part of the Voltran.”

The process was not over quickly and Grisham’s agitation returned. He watched the sensors closely, but nothing appeared.

“How much longer?” he wondered.

“Are you certain this is working, Captain?” asked Deneuve. “We’ve been here nearly half an hour.”

“I don’t know if it’s working, Commander, but we’re damn well going to wait here for a lot longer than thirty minutes.”

“Yes, sir. I wasn’t suggesting we leave the planet.”

Less than five minutes later, the extraction was complete and the cables withdrew. As far as Grisham could tell, the Voltran’s mind hadn’t changed at all, and he wondered if something was happening within the warship that he wasn’t aware of.

“Is there anything else keeping us here?” asked Deneuve.

“The dark sphere is gone,” said Grisham. “I don’t see why we need to stick around for the Kijol rescue vessels to arrive.”

“If the Inojor was here, we’d have seen it by now,” said Lopez.

“I don’t think I’d go chasing it anyway, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “Our mission was the dark sphere, not the death factory.”

Grisham was on the verge of instructing the Voltran to climb away from the surface, when the sound of Bishop cursing brought his attention to the portside feeds. An Ax’Kol warship had appeared over the distant horizon and it was approaching fast.

Nose first it came, so Grisham’s view of it was limited. He believed the incoming spaceship to be V-shaped, though with a rounded nose. Black wings swept from the midsection to the rear, while the warship’s topsides were curved, with some apparently extraneous, but symmetrical, protrusions.

The Voltran recognized the enemy spaceship.

Gholaxas

“That’s a warship through-and-through,” said Deneuve.

“And it’s nearly five thousand metres in length,” said Bishop. “With a far greater mass than the Voltran.”

“Commander Deneuve, ready the psionic: focus,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. The Voltran is preparing a psionic: focus. Five minutes and it’ll be ready for discharge. I’ve set the Punishers to automatic track and destroy.”

“If we ready a lightspeed transit, the enemy vessel will detect the readings from our hull, Captain,” Adler warned.

“I’m aware of that, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “Do nothing with the propulsion unless I order it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham quested out with his mind, and he felt nothing whatsoever from the Gholaxas. For a moment, he was on the brink of ordering the Voltran into maximum acceleration. However, he didn’t need instinct to tell him this Ax’Kol warship was beyond his own, and it wouldn’t be a good idea to make its crew suspicious.

“Is the Voltran’s mind still pretending we’re Ax’Kol?” asked Bishop.

“Yes,” said Grisham. Despite his certainty, he checked anyway. “Definitely.”

“I don’t know what the hell that warship is doing here on Leoxval, but it’s arrived at a bad time,” said Deneuve.

“Amen to that,” said Grisham.

Slowly, the Gholaxas rotated, so that it was flank first to the Voltran. Grisham saw a multitude of Death missile clusters and Punisher turrets studding its hull, but it was the psionics he was thinking about.

Ten kilometres to starboard, the enemy vessel came to a halt. Its profile was low and its shape was as threatening as that of any Kijol Eternus.

“I wonder if we’re known to the Ax’Kol after what happened at Talior,” said Deneuve. “The dark sphere was impenetrable to comms, but that doesn’t mean the message didn’t get out to the enemy fleet.”

“If the Gholaxas knew, we’d be under attack by now,” said Grisham. He checked the Voltran’s consciousness. Whatever had become of the extracted mind, it wasn’t yet part of the whole.

Grisham didn’t know if the Gholaxas had one mind or several, but the enemy warship made direct contact with the Voltran. He sensed it happen through the interface and this other mind was every bit as terrible as the one on the Inojor. The contact lasted only a moment and then it was ended. Grisham was struck by a realisation.

The dead Ax’Kol are made into warships too and they form the very worst of the minds – the rulers of all others.

The Gholaxas wasn’t just another warship in the Ax’Kol fleet, Grisham suddenly knew. It was vastly more important to the enemy than battleships like the Voltran. More important than the Engarvax carriers. This vessel here at Leoxval was on the same tier within the Ax’Kol fleet as the Inojor.

“We can’t beat this one, folks,” said Grisham.

“I felt its mind,” said Deneuve. “It linked to the Voltran and then withdrew.”

“Whatever the Gholaxas learned, it wasn’t enough to make it leave,” said Lopez.

What would come of this encounter, Grisham couldn’t even begin to guess. The psionic: focus was still more than three minutes from readiness, but, from his brief sense of this opponent, he didn’t know if even an amplified psionic attack would be effective.

For a second time, the mind on the Gholaxas intruded upon the Voltran and then pulled away. Grisham observed the contact through his interface and he tried to understand what was happening. The Voltran seemed unaware that any contact had happened. It knew of the Gholaxas and it hated the enemy warship, but was blind to the mind-to-mind contact.

Grisham remembered how the Engarvax at Savixor had been able to intrude upon the Voltran’s mind, in order to make itself invisible and he wondered if something similar was happening here. While the Voltran had learned to recognize the capabilities of an Engarvax, perhaps the Gholaxas was better able to conceal its efforts.

Or maybe the mind in the Gholaxas has retained a far greater telepathic ability owing to the Ax’Kol from which it was made.

While this was only speculation, Grisham thought he might be onto something and, if he was right, the Gholaxas might be able to act with impunity as it plundered the contents of the Voltran’s mind. Certainly, it would soon learn that this was no Ax’Kol warship it had encountered here on Leoxval.

Once again, Grisham’s attention returned to the Gholaxas’s hull and at the incredible array of armaments it was carrying in addition to the psionic abilities he was sure it could unleash. Soon, the enemy vessel would identify the Voltran as an imposter and then it would attack. Grisham didn’t intend waiting for that attack to happen, but he couldn’t think of a sure-fire way to escape this situation. If the psionic: focus was ready in time, he’d have to attempt a shut-down attack on the Gholaxas and then run for the horizon.

He checked the progress of the psionic: focus. It would be ready in less than two minutes. Grisham had the strongest feeling that the enemy vessel would resist a psionic: suppress attack, even if it was amplified.

All of a sudden, the extracted mind from the wrecked Indredalus became aware. Grisham diverted his attention straightaway towards it, to find out what was happening within the Voltran. For a moment, the new mind was a wholly separate entity that seemed to exist within its own non-physical space inside the warship. Then, its essence channelled rapidly into the Voltran’s other mind until only one remained.

Grisham sensed the vast increase in his warship’s psionic strength and, for a fleeting moment, he considered engaging the Gholaxas in combat. And yet, he knew this was not the time. The Voltran’s hull had suffered enough damage recently and he had a need for the spaceship within the Human Federation.

Besides, and despite the increased psionic potency of the Voltran, Grisham was certain it was still outmatched by the Gholaxas.

“One minute left on the psionic: focus, Captain,” said Deneuve. “Is the plan to hit the enemy vessel with a suppression attack and then escape?”

“That’s exactly what the plan is, Commander.” Grisham had an idea. “Can we ready a second psionic: focus concurrent with the first?”

“I’ll check that for you,” said Deneuve. A moment later, she smiled. “Yes, Captain. We can ready a second psionic: focus.”

“Do it,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. The Voltran is preparing a second psionic: focus. The warmup time is five minutes.”

“Are we waiting for both to be ready?” asked Adler. “If we hit the Gholaxas with a quick one-two, we’ll have a greater chance of knocking it offline.”

Grisham would have preferred to land a double strike on the enemy warship, but didn’t think the second psionic: focus would be ready before the Gholaxas took offensive action. He gritted his teeth.

“We’ll wait for as long as we can,” he said. “Commander Deneuve, at the first sign of attack from that enemy spaceship, fire everything we have in return.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Gholaxas’s mind intruded once more upon the Voltran and this time the link remained for several seconds. The timer on the first psionic: focus ran down to zero and Grisham wondered if he was pushing too hard in hoping to have the second psionic: focus available before he tried to escape from the enemy warship.

Grisham reflected that he’d spent his life pushing hard, but maybe not always in the right direction. This time he was determined that he wouldn’t screw up. The second timer counted down and still the Gholaxas did nothing.

TWENTY-SIX

The enemy attack, when it came, was intended to be brutal and uncompromising. Missiles burst from a dozen launch clusters along the Gholaxas’s facing flank. In a split-second, the Voltran’s Punisher turrets hurled their projectiles towards the enemy missiles, destroying many as they were ejected from their tubes.

With reactions that had saved Grisham and his crew on more than one occasion, Deneuve trapped the remainder of the incoming missiles in a psionic: slow. On the feeds, the Ax’Kol warheads were reduced to a crawl and the Voltran’s Punisher shots smashed into them.

Grisham didn’t watch. He commanded the Voltran to accelerate directly to portside, intending to keep in line with the Gholaxas’s discharged missile clusters. The enemy vessel immediately accelerated in pursuit and a glance was enough for Grisham to know that it had greater acceleration than the Voltran.

“The Voltran has been hit by a psionic: suppress,” said Adler. “Holy crap, we nearly went offline.”

“Targeting enemy vessel with amplified psionic: suppress,” said Deneuve. “Fired.”

The same dense flood of energy that Grisham remembered from the previous discharge of boosted psionics struck him hard. He was braced for it and it hardly affected his concentration.

“The Gholaxas’s propulsion has shut down!” yelled Adler.

“Starboard Death clusters one to six, targeted and fired,” said Deneuve.

The Ax’Kol warship had been at a low altitude and on a slight downward trajectory during its first moments of acceleration and it crashed straight into the surface of Leoxval. A huge wave of dirt and rock was thrown up and the Gholaxas flipped right over. Many of the Voltran’s inbound missiles detonated on the enemy vessel, but others crashed into the debris hurled up by the impact.

Grisham couldn’t watch too closely and he focused on flying the Voltran as low and as fast as possible. He doubted the Gholaxas would be offline for long and he intended to use the planet’s curve to get out of sensor sight as quickly as possible.

The enemy vessel could counter that by flying vertically to increase its visibility range, but on more than one occasion Grisham had fought opponents who’d seen red and engaged in a low-altitude pursuit of his fleeing Tibor. Atmospheric friction was a great leveller when fighting an opponent whose warship possessed a far greater maximum velocity out in the cold reaches of space.

“Lieutenant Adler, ready the Voltran for lightspeed,” said Grisham. “I don’t care where we go or how far off target we end up.”

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “Our warmup time has dropped below three minutes. Keep us ahead of those Ax’Kol bastards and we’ll be out of here.”

“All seventy-two of our Death missiles successfully detonated,” said Deneuve. “But I can’t confirm how many struck the Gholaxas. I’d say less than half, based on the visual. The next psionic: focus will be ready in a little over two minutes. I am unable to prepare a new focus. Cooldown last time was four minutes.”

The Voltran’s mind had been weakened by the first discharge, but not significantly. How it would cope against an onslaught from the Gholaxas, Grisham didn’t know. The single psionic: suppress attack had been almost enough to completely shut down the Voltran’s consciousness, even when it was at full strength.

It was, however, clear that the enemy vessel – thinking to surprise the Voltran – had itself been caught off guard. The Ax’Kol crew wouldn’t let that happen again. Still, it felt good to imagine he and his crew had given a lesson in humility to a bunch of murdering alien scumbags.

As its velocity climbed, the Voltran’s nose began heating up and the first wisps of smoke trailed behind. Grisham kept his attention on the forward feeds. The land on this area of Leoxval was undulating, but not so much that it prevented him from holding the warship at a thousand-metre altitude.

A short time after the Gholaxas had vanished over the rear horizon, Grisham banked the Voltran onto a new heading. The coast of an ocean was in the far distance and the warship sped towards it. Two cities lay on the shore and the Voltran passed between them.

Over the ocean went the Voltran and now it was leaving a trail of thicker smoke as its nose temperature continued to climb. The smoke was a giveaway of the warship’s heading, but Grisham felt his best chance lay with maintaining a high velocity. He checked the two timers which would determine if he and his crew would escape, or if they’d die. The lightspeed timer was heading for two minutes, while the psionic: focus would be ready in one.

As the seconds counted down, Grisham’s stress levels went up. He was desperate to escape this planet and this engagement he was certain he couldn’t win. All around the Voltran, the ocean stretched into the distance, to every horizon and beyond.

“Twenty seconds and the psionic: focus will be ready,” said Deneuve, her voice tight.

“Captain, I’ve located the Gholaxas!” said Lopez. “It went high.”

Grisham saw his opponent on the rear feeds – it was faraway to the north and the dull orange of plasma heat was evident on its facing flank. The enemy warship hadn’t engaged in a low-altitude chase like he’d hoped and it had climbed through the planet’s atmosphere to maximise its visibility. He cursed the Ax’Kol as he had done many times before.

“Commander, give those assholes something to think about,” said Grisham.

“Psionic: suppress on the enemy warship,” said Deneuve. “Rear and topside Death missile clusters one to three: targeted and fired.”

“The enemy warship has not been shut down,” said Kinsey. “There wasn’t even a flicker in its hull readings.”

“Psionic: suppress on enemy warship,” said Deneuve. “Rear and topside Death missile clusters four to six: targeted and fired.”

“Again, the Gholaxas was not affected by our suppression attack,” said Kinsey.

The Voltran’s sensor team had been the quickest at detection, which had allowed Deneuve the first attack, but it wouldn’t be long before the Gholaxas responded. Grisham braced for another punishing psionic attack on his warship. The psionic: focus would be ready in less than ten seconds and he didn’t know if that would be soon enough.

“Missile launch detected from the enemy vessel,” said Lopez. “We’ve got eight full clusters heading our way.”

“Psionic: slow on enemy missiles,” said Deneuve.

“Missile launch detected from enemy vessel.”

Grisham was convinced his warship would be shut down before the psionic: focus was ready. His attention went to the underside feeds. The ocean beneath the Voltran was deep and dark, and with a thick layer of decayed matter floating on the surface. Thinking that the water might offer protection against the incoming missiles, Grisham sent the warship into a steep dive towards it.

“The psionic: focus is ready,” said Deneuve. “Targeting enemy warship with amplified psionic: suppress. Fired.”

A moment before it entered the water, and simultaneously with its own psionic discharge, the Voltran was struck by a monumentally powerful suppression attack. The warship’s engines and sensors went offline like they’d been turned off with a switch.

Not hesitating for a moment, Grisham cast his mind into the grey and there he found the souls. They’d been stunned by the attack, but already they were rousing themselves. He commanded them to awaken and reminded them of their anger. Then, he withdrew.

“Did our psionic attack hit the Gholaxas?” Grisham asked. The engines were still offline and the resulting quiet was jarring.

“I don’t know, Captain,” said Deneuve. “Even my gut feel is only giving me a maybe.”

“We’ll soon find out,” said Bishop.

The Voltran’s engines remained offline for ten seconds and then they fired back up again. Already the warship had descended far beneath the ocean and the waters were dark.

“Our lightspeed warmup was cancelled when the propulsion went offline, Captain,” said Adler.

“Start it up again, Lieutenant,” said Grisham.

He piloted the Voltran deeper until it came to the bottom. A thick layer of decayed matter had sunk down here and the passage of the warship swirled it into huge clouds of sludge and grey sand.

“The Voltran’s lightspeed timer is counting down again, Captain,” said Adler. “Starting from three minutes.”

Grisham’s hoped that this desperate plunge into the ocean would give him and his crew some time to escape the planet. Usually, water was no proof against detection from warship-grade sensors, but the surface had been so thickly clad in biological matter that it would be difficult for the Gholaxas’s hardware to gain visibility of what lay beneath. In addition, the passage of the Voltran along the ocean floor was stirring up so much crap that it would give the enemy crew some additional problems.

“We’re six thousand metres deep, Captain,” said Lopez. “But if we travel too fast, we might leave detectable currents on the surface.” She gave a humourless laugh. “The Voltran doesn’t know how to generate a model that’ll tell me what effects our passage will have on the surface. I guess the Ax’Kol never imagined one of their battleships would end up in this kind of situation.”

“The Gholaxas won’t have given up,” said Grisham. “Let’s hope we can stay out of sight until we enter lightspeed.”

“Our first amplified psionic: suppress only knocked the enemy ship offline for a few seconds,” said Deneuve. “They’ll be back on our tail already.”

Grisham piloted the Voltran steadily farther from its entry point into the ocean. He changed course every few seconds, in the hope of creating different currents that would make it harder to pinpoint the location of the warship. Deep inside, he clung onto a hope that the second amplified suppression attack would have disabled the Gholaxas for longer than the first.

Amidst the darkness of a trillion dead sea creatures and plants, the Voltran forged on. Grisham discovered that by tipping the warship slightly to one side and then the other, far more dead matter was thrown up. The particles hung suspended in the water all around.

“Two minutes on the lightspeed timer,” said Adler.

The seabed rose and the Voltran’s underside scraped against rough stone, forcing Grisham to change course back into deeper waters. All the while, he watched the sensors. The visibility range was low in every direction and he saw nothing but swirling darkness.

“If we make it out of here it won’t be the first time our lives have been saved by the dead,” said Deneuve.

It was a strange notion and one Grisham didn’t want to think about right now. He guided the Voltran onto another new heading and hunted for signs of the Gholaxas.

“One minute on the lightspeed timer,” said Adler. “It’s got to be second time lucky.”

“I think I detected something on the topside feeds, Captain,” said Lopez.

Damnit.

Grisham looked, but saw nothing. Even so, he wasn’t reassured.

“We’re not yet able to ready another psionic: focus,” said Deneuve.

“If we don’t escape this time, we’re not escaping at all, Commander,” said Grisham.

As he was speaking, he saw a dark shape above and to the Voltran’s portside. Then, the debris in the swirling waters hid the Gholaxas again.

“It’s close,” said Grisham.

Despite his many years of fighting against the Kijol, he couldn’t remember ever hating them – or at least if he did, it was no more than fleetingly and in the heat of battle. With the Ax’Kol it was different and every time he came up against them, his anger burned like a bright flame.

And so it was here. The Gholaxas was nearby and at any moment it might locate the Voltran and shut it down with another psionic: suppress. It was hard for Grisham to control his fury.

“Twenty seconds on the lightspeed timer,” said Adler.

Grisham changed course again and kept tipping the Voltran first to portside and then to starboard. The decayed remains cloaked the warship in a shroud of decay. For a third time, the Gholaxas appeared on the sensors, before disappearing once more.

It took all of Grisham’s willpower to stay calm and to hold the Voltran at the same velocity.

“Five seconds,” said Adler.

To Grisham’s enormous relief, the timer descended to zero and the Voltran entered lightspeed. In moments, the planet of the dead, and the Gholaxas, were left an unimaginable distance behind.

“That wasn’t much fun,” said Lopez.

“No, not much,” Grisham agreed. “But damn, we made it.”

He looked across at Deneuve. From the stunned expression on her face she hadn’t expected to live through the confrontation with the Gholaxas.

Deneuve shrugged it off and grinned. “We make our own luck.” She raised a middle finger and aimed it at the bridge ceiling. “Screw you, Ax’Kol.”

Grisham laughed. He and his crew had pulled off a magnificent escape from a vessel he felt sure was the pride of the enemy fleet. It was worth celebrating.

Even while the smile was still on his face, a voice at the back of his mind reminded him what he was returning to in the Human Federation. Despite everything – despite several near-death encounters with enemy warships on alien worlds – the hardest job was still to come.

Grisham closed his eyes for a moment and hoped he was up to the task.

HOMECOMING PART 3

The lightspeed destination Adler had chosen was far from Leoxval and nowhere in particular. After twenty minutes, Grisham cancelled the transit and the Voltran re-entered local space.

“We’re returning to Shesa-2,” he said.

“Should I ready the Voltran, sir?” asked Adler.

“Yes, do it,” said Grisham. “Then I want a status report.”

“We’ll be on our way in just under three minutes,” Adler confirmed. “I’ll get you that status report.”

Meanwhile, Lopez and Bishop completed the local area scans. The warship wasn’t near anything of note.

“The Voltran took a handful of missile strikes from the Gholaxas’s first wave, Captain, but nothing for us to worry about,” said Adler. He made a hmmm sound. “From what I can tell, our hull is healing faster than it was when we first took over the Voltran.”

“How much faster?”

“I can’t put a number on it, but the difference is significant.”

“The extra minds the Voltran has absorbed,” mused Grisham.

“That’s number one on my list of possibilities, sir.”

It was good news for a change. The faster the Voltran could repair itself, the less time it would be out of action. A big fly in the ointment was the low stocks of missiles in the warship’s clusters. The psionics were a big part of the vessel’s arsenal, but, as far as Grisham was concerned, they were a useful addition to the conventional armaments, rather than a replacement. Even the Gholaxas was fitted with a crapload of missile clusters, since its mind alone wasn’t enough.

The Voltran entered lightspeed and the time to Shesa-2 would be six days. Not long after the commencement of the journey, Grisham told his crew what he intended – assuming the need for action remained. Nobody was surprised or shocked and nobody objected, though they all hated that war had brought them to this.

At the end of the first day at lightspeed, Grisham ordered the Voltran back into local space long enough for him to send his mission report to Senator Maynard. The comms travelled roughly twice as fast as the warship, so the file would arrive more than two days in advance of the Voltran.

For the rest of the six days, Grisham practised his telepathy on the other members of his crew. Using his mind powers was tiring and the headaches were agonising if he pushed too hard. Still, he was getting better at it day by day, though he suspected he’d eventually reach a ceiling if he didn’t receive some proper instruction.

Unfortunately, the only species likely to have the expertise required to offer that training, were far more likely to cut his throat and throw his lifeless body into the bay of a corpse carrier.

When he wasn’t practising, Grisham filled time. The Voltran wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the supplies provided by Admiral Danner some time ago ensured it wasn’t completely spartan. Grisham rested, he ate, he spent time with Sergeant Maxwell and the squad, and he stretched his legs by walking around the Voltran’s interior.

Having plenty of time with his thoughts, Grisham asked himself if he was straying from his chosen course. As ever, there were many shades of grey, and he had to keep telling himself that sometimes the right path was clear even amongst the many different hues.

At the end of the sixth day at lightspeed, the Voltran entered the Zoltor system, which was home to Shesa-2. The planet itself was almost a billion kilometres away and this was intentional, since Grisham had been away for a time, and he was unaware of the current situation within the Human Federation. It was possible things had changed for the better, but he wasn’t banking on it.

“Lieutenant Lopez, I’d like to speak with Senator Maynard,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do what I can to get hold of him,” said Lopez. Success came two minutes later. “I have the Senator on the comms. Open channel?”

“Yes, please.”

“Senator Maynard,” said Grisham in greeting.

“Captain Grisham,” said Maynard in return. He sounded tired. Older, perhaps. “I have read your mission report. Given the apparent potency of the Inojor, you did well to escape with your lives, and then to achieve such great success at Talior is something I’m grateful for.”

“Will the Human Federation see any benefit from our efforts, Senator?”

“Had you asked me the same question just two days ago, I would have answered with a resounding yes. We were on the brink – humanity and the Kijol – of agreeing a formal peace, albeit one that would be accompanied by further talks to iron out certain differences that remain between our species.”

“What happened?” asked Grisham. He had a good idea what the answer was going to be.

“The Kijol warships which attended the rendezvous were attacked by members of the Human Federation fleet,” said Maynard. By now, all signs of tiredness were gone from his voice, and were replaced by fury. “Somehow, Admiral Danner learned what was happening. He is responsible for this.”

Grisham felt a coldness in his bones. By this conversation was his course set. “Are we at war with the Kijol again?”

“They have not declared as much,” said Maynard. “But why would they? If Danner has pushed the Kijol too far, it may be they will resume their attacks on our fleet when it suits them best.”

“And did the Unity-controlled warships attack those vessels under the command of Freedom?” asked Grisham.

“No,” said Maynard. “I should have given the order, but I did not. I wavered because I didn’t want to be the man who set humanity at war with itself. I failed, and because of it, we may have lost our moment for peace.”

“Senator, I can’t change what Admiral Danner has done, but I can ensure it doesn’t happen again,” said Grisham. “Do I have your blessing?”

Maynard didn’t ask Grisham for clarification on what he intended. The comms were silent for a long time. “I have no intel on—”

“I won’t need any.”

“How many will die?”

“As few as possible. I can’t promise anything different.”

Once again, Maynard fell quiet and Grisham could imagine the thoughts going through the other man’s head.

“I never believed we could be brought to this, Captain Grisham,” said Maynard. “Do what must be done. There is too much at stake and one man cannot be allowed to ruin it all.”

The comms channel went dead and Grisham looked at his crew in turn. “Are we still together on this?”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve, her expression steely.

“We have no choice,” said Lopez.

One-by-one the other members of the crew restated their agreement.

“Lieutenant Adler, send us into lightspeed,” said Grisham. “Our target is Loxor, fifty million kilometres from the planet and on the far side from the Fremont base.”

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “Three minutes and we’ll be on our way. The journey time is a shade under eight hours.”

The Voltran entered lightspeed and in moments it was far from the Zoltor system. Grisham felt calm, though he’d come to terms with what had to be done long before now. The first seven hours passed quickly and then he found himself watching the clock.

“Ten minutes and we exit lightspeed!” said Adler.

Grisham stood still, his jaw tightly clenched and his eyes staring at nothing. He was confident he could do this, but the range was going to make it tough.

Right on time, the Voltran exited lightspeed. Lopez and Bishop finished the area scans quickly. There were no warships anywhere close by, since the local defence fleet had no need to be so far from the planet.

“Here’s Loxor on the feed, Captain,” said Lopez.

The feed was grainy owing to the extreme distance, but planet was exactly as Grisham remembered it.

“It’s what we’re fighting for,” said Deneuve.

Grisham nodded. “That it is, Commander.”

“The orbiting satellite ring is highly unlikely to spot us quickly from fifty million klicks away, Captain,” said Bishop. “But there’s a chance we’ll be unlucky.”

“Thank you for the reminder, Lieutenant.”

Grisham stared at Loxor for a moment longer and then he reached out with his mind. The Fremont base was on the far side of the planet, but that was no impediment to his telepathy. He focused on the area the facility was located. A dull ache started at the front of his head. Grisham concentrated harder as he searched for his target and the pain steadily increased.

“Found him,” he said. “He’s in the north-eastern corner of the base. He isn’t moving, so he must be in his office.”

“Are we waiting?” asked Deneuve.

“For a time,” said Grisham. Danner would be deep underground and it would likely take a dozen missiles to reach him. The casualties would be appalling.

Grisham held the Voltran in place. Every couple of minutes, he extended his mind and located Danner. The Admiral didn’t move.

“He’s going to sit there all week, just to make this more difficult,” said Deneuve. “He always was an ass.”

“We should consider repositioning the Voltran, Captain,” said Lopez. “At two hundred million klicks, the satellite ring will have almost no chance of detecting us before we’re finished.”

Grisham was torn, and he hadn’t wanted to be confronted by additional decisions. He reached out once more with his mind.

“Danner is on the move!” he said. Grisham waited a couple of minutes and looked again. Two minutes after that, he made another check. “This is the time,” he said. “Lieutenant Adler, ready the Voltran for lightspeed. I want us to arrive directly over the north-east corner of the base at a two-thousand-metre altitude.”

“Yes, sir. The instruction is given.”

Thoughts ran through Grisham’s head as he waited. For so long, he’d believed that Danner was the only senior officer in the military who – if not exactly having Grisham’s back – at least tried to shield him from the perceived machinations of Senator Maynard.

Never before in his life had Grisham failed to read another person in the way he’d failed to read Admiral Danner.

“Twenty seconds and we’ll enter lightspeed,” said Adler.

Grisham watched the seconds until they reached zero. The Voltran entered and exited lightspeed in a time too short for his brain to register. For a couple of seconds the sensors were offline, and then they started gathering a feed.

The Fremont base was hardly any distance below and he could see every single detail. Military vehicles were in evidence on every street and in great numbers, while soldiers patrolled in squads or platoons. An old-gen Tibor class was five kilometres north and at a slightly higher altitude, while a destroyer and a Nexus heavy were stationary south. None of the units opened fire on the Voltran, though Grisham didn’t know if that situation would last.

He searched for Admiral Danner. The man was travelling east and he was on the ground. It was easier for Grisham to maintain his telepathic link now that the Voltran was on top of the base, and he guided the warship directly towards his target.

“There,” he said.

A convoy of armoured gravity cars was heading along a street below, with a couple of tanks ahead and two more behind in the road.

“He’s in the centre car,” said Grisham. He looked across at Deneuve. “This is mine to finish.”

For a moment it looked as if Deneuve would argue. After all, she and the crew had been as much affected by this as Grisham. After the briefest pause, she nodded.

“All yours, Captain.”

Grisham instructed the Voltran to target Admiral Danner’s car and fire a single missile. The automated defence systems on the tanks shot the warhead out of the air, so Grisham fired another.

This time, the Death missile struck Danner’s car. The detonation ripped the vehicle to pieces in a hemisphere of expanding plasma. A moment after the blast erupted, Grisham sent out his mind again.

“He’s dead.”

With those words, Grisham instructed the Voltran to accelerate towards the northern edge of the Fremont base. The warships he’d seen earlier were now in motion, and several others were descending through the clouds high above.

Not one of the local fleet opened fire. A half-dozen warships shadowed the Voltran as it sped across the planet’s surface. When he was a hundred kilometres from the base, Grisham increased altitude. Still the warships followed.

Once the Voltran had emerged from the planet’s atmosphere, he pushed it to maximum acceleration. The ships of the local fleet fell rapidly behind.

“Looks like nobody wants a war to happen within the Human Federation,” said Deneuve.

Grisham nodded. He’d hoped it would be so, but hadn’t dared believe. If any of those warships had opened fire, he wouldn’t have responded, so he was glad their commanding officers had shown restraint. Or perhaps they simply hadn’t realised that Grisham and his crew had killed Admiral Danner.

After sixty minutes at the Voltran’s maximum sub-light velocity, Grisham brought the warship to a halt and ordered Lieutenant Adler to prepare for a lightspeed transit.

Three minutes later, the Voltran left the Altarn-4 system.

Recent times had been tough and Grisham felt mentally exhausted. He reflected that he’d done everything he could to help put the Human Federation in a position from which it might resist the coming storm.

Grisham had done his best. Time would tell if that was enough.

* * *

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