Endurus

Forged Alliance Book 7

Anthony James

Contents

The Ancidium

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

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Indigar

Other Science Fiction Books by Anthony James

© 2021 Anthony James

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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

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The Ancidium

Deep within the alien warship Ancidium, Fleet Admiral Carl Recker watched the ongoing efforts of his personnel. Despite the multiple sources of illumination, the gloom hung heavy and the ice crystals on the faraway alloy walls glinted more grey than white. The longer Recker was on the Ancidium, the more he thought he’d been banished to a world where everything had been purposely created in the most depressing shades.

Aside from the gloom, the air held the sort of chill which Recker remembered from the long ago winter days of his childhood, where each breath would steam and the sharp purity of it would instil him with a sense of wonder as he played in the woods or ran across the fields.

However, there was nothing wholesome about the diminishing atmosphere within the Ancidium’s hull. The staleness, which had always been present, was more cloying than ever and Recker wondered if he’d ever get the stench out of his nostrils.

He grimaced as he noticed again the distant aching in his bones. The pain – faraway, yet constant – had begun three weeks ago, not long after Recker had last spoken to Captain William Flint. Almost everyone in the alliance was reporting the same symptoms and death rates had climbed a hundredfold.

Truly, the mountain of crap was high and Recker had a good idea this was only the beginning.

Lined up along one wall of this room, beyond the rows of Lavorix comms stations, was a row of ten oblex cores. A tall, thin figure - Research Lead Victor Moseley – walked from device to device, splitting his attention between a handheld tablet and the nearby members of his team. He waved his free arm around in an animated fashion, and the personnel seemed to understand well enough what was required of them.

“What news, Research Lead Moseley?” asked Recker loudly, striding between the rows of consoles. His voice came out muffled, and he wasn’t sure if Moseley heard.

Recker stepped over a Lavorix corpse. A few others were also in evidence, slumped here and there in their dark mesh spacesuits, their pallid skin not yet showing signs of decomposition. With the life support offline, that would soon change and the billions of alien corpses would begin to rot. Though most of the Lavorix had been wearing space suits - which would prevent the release of gasses and odours - many others had not.

It was another problem Recker didn’t need.

Moseley looked up from his tablet. He was dressed in a lightweight spacesuit and his face was even gaunter than usual. His tiredness was no surprise - the man and his extensive team had been working nonstop, tuning the exium cores and trying to figure out why the oblex units had so far proven ineffective in purging the shutdown routines which had been injected into the Ancidium’s onboard systems.

“Fleet Admiral Recker!” said Moseley in greeting.

“How’s progress?” asked Recker.

He stopped nearby and cast his eye briefly over the oblex cores. The devices were one-point-five-metre grey cubes – nothing elaborate - with gravity drives and enough computing power to smash through any known encryption in a matter of seconds or minutes.

Unfortunately, those cores had so far proven incapable of purging the shut-down routines which had left the Ancidium disabled, even with a total seventy-five of the devices working in parallel. Now, every critical system, including the life support was unavailable and, since the hull bay doors would no longer open, Recker and thousands of other personnel were trapped.

To all intents and purposes, this, the most powerful vessel Recker had ever encountered, was useless, able to do little more than drift through space.

“Little progress, Fleet Admiral,” said Moseley. “As you know, we’ve linked our oblex cores into the wide-bore data interfaces for each of the Ancidium’s main systems and we’re using them to hunt down anomalous code, with the intention of purging that code and thereby regaining control over the spaceship.”

“We’ve been trying for three weeks, RL Moseley,” said Recker. “We’re missing something.”

Moseley furrowed his brow. “There’s always a solution, sir,” he said. “Up until recently, I’ve been convinced the oblex cores were sufficient for this task and all we needed was to figure out the right way to employ their computing power.”

“That’s what I’ve come here to talk with you about,” said Recker. “Perhaps it’s time to put aside our existing approach and try something new.”

“I had planned to speak with you about this exact thing later,” said Moseley, nodding enthusiastically. “However, I have not yet thought of a better way.” He pursed his lips. “I’m convinced we have the brute force necessary to purge the corruption from the Ancidium’s databanks, but no matter what changes I make to our coding, the results are the same. I’m baffled.”

“What is the main problem as you see it?” asked Recker. This was a question he’d asked Moseley on several other occasions, but that was when the other man was convinced that a few tweaks to the oblex cores would be enough.

“As we’ve discussed before, the intrusions into the Ancidium’s onboard systems are effectively pieces of sophisticated, self-replicating code,” said Moseley. “That code was designed to make copies of itself, not with intention to destroy, but rather to flood and therefore block the data connections between this spaceship’s linked systems.”

“And these intrusions were designed by someone or something with precise knowledge of the Ancidium,” said Recker. “We’ve discussed this.”

“Yes, we have,” said Moseley. He turned his tablet around so that the screen was visible. “Have a look, sir.”

“What is this?” asked Recker, staring at a bar graph with a table of numbers beneath it.

“This is the number of anomalies in the Ancidium’s onboard systems our oblex cores were detecting and correcting two weeks ago.”

“An octillion,” said Recker.

“Give or take,” said Moseley. “At the time, I was confident we’d regain control of the Ancidium in a day or two.” He tapped a finger on the tablet screen. “Now look at the final bar on the graph – it shows the results from yesterday.”

Recker lifted an eyebrow. “Our cores made five decillion corrections to the Ancidium’s onboard systems? That’s incredible.”

It seemed like Moseley’s chest puffed out a little in pride. “Yes, Fleet Admiral. We’ve discovered a way to increase the processing output of an exium powered core, while maintaining absolute stability - though at a cost of an increased rate of depletion.”

It was all Recker could do to stop himself from calling Moseley out on his claims of absolute stability. This was a time when corners could be cut and the occasional wildly optimistic statement overlooked.

“But this is a problem, surely?” said Recker. “The number of anomalies should be going down as our ability to combat them goes up. Unless these anomalies are now replicating at a greater rate than before.”

“Yes, this is the problem,” said Moseley. “Our modelling indicated that eventually we’d reach a tipping point – where our oblex cores would be simply too fast and the unwanted code wouldn’t be able to replicate itself rapidly enough to prevent us purging it from the Ancidium.”

“There’s clearly been no tipping point,” said Recker.

“No, sir.”

“Do you have any theories, RL Moseley? If we can’t resolve this matter in the near future, I’ll have to explore more direct ways for us to escape this prison.”

“The Laws of Ancidium?” said Moseley.

“Yes,” said Recker. “It’s a path I don’t want to tread. Not when there might be another way.”

Moseley narrowed his eyes, as if he were just starting to focus on an internal suspicion which he’d never had time to properly consider. “The only explanation for our failure to purge the anomalies would be if new ones were being injected as quickly as we could purge the old ones.”

“Is that a possibility?” asked Recker. “We’ve been using our own comms kit to try and intercept anything inbound and so far we’ve detected nothing.” He paused and a sense of unease grew within him. “If these intrusions are being injected from an external source, the quantity of data would be impossible to mask.”

“Let’s see,” said Moseley, bringing his tablet closer to his face. He tapped the screen a few times and his brows lowered. “Hmmm.” He tapped a few more times and his pale face went paler. “I diverted the output from these oblex cores behind me onto the anomalies in the life support system. For a moment, the number of purged anomalies fell and then it climbed again.”

“Explain,” said Recker. “I don’t think I’m going to like what you’re about to tell me.”

Moseley shook his head. “It means the anomalous coding either responded to our increased efforts to remove it, or—” he hesitated. “Or more intrusions were injected into the life support system to counter our increased efforts to purge them.”

“Are both alternatives possible?” asked Recker.

“Yes,” said Moseley. “Maybe.” He gestured over his shoulder at the members of his team who were analysing the core outputs. “I have on my team the best technically-minded people in the alliance. The Daklan in particular have a talent for coding. Call it hubris, but there’s nothing they can’t resolve when it comes to code.”

“And you believe that if the problem was purely down to self-replicating code, you’d have fixed it by now?”

“Yes,” said Moseley simply. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. Our efforts to purge the Ancidium are being deliberately thwarted.”

“The gods,” spat Recker.

“No, Fleet Admiral,” said Moseley, his eyes wide. “This is coming from within.”

Realisation came and Recker cursed his own stupidity for not considering the possibility sooner. The intrusions didn’t need to come from an external source when there was another origin point much closer to home.

“RL Moseley, I need to borrow one of your oblex cores,” said Recker.

Moseley didn’t even blink. “Yes, Admiral. Take your pick. Do you require instruction?”

“No. Thank you.”

Recker linked to one of the cores – Oblex#55 – and checked its list of built-in routines. He found what he was looking for and then set the device on a leash so that it would follow him at a three-metre distance.

With that, Recker spun on his heel and marched from the room, with Oblex#55 floating after him.

Chapter One

Recker headed at a fast pace through the Ancidium. His personal communicator buzzed several times on the way as his officers sought guidance on a myriad of problems. The demands of the current situation required Recker to be in a dozen places at once, and the frustration at his physical limitations was becoming harder to bear with each passing day.

Turning into the last passage before the interior shuttle, which was Recker’s destination, he stepped past mounds of sorry corpses, while he pondered everything known and unknown. Despite the lack of comms, it was remotely possible that Captain Flint and his crew had halted the Kilvar ascendancy and if that was the case, perhaps the war was already over bar the mopping up.

Recker didn’t believe it was true. Flint was either dead or lost to the alliance, and that meant he’d been defeated by the Kilvar, which in turn made it likely the ascendancy had taken place. Certainly, the enormously increased death rates amongst the alliance citizens couldn’t be explained away.

It was hard to cope with the not knowing and Recker’s insides clenched with anger. He halted, alone in the corridor, and took a deep breath. For a moment, he unfettered his mind, to see if the instincts which had seen him through decades of war would give him any indication of which way the wind was blowing.

Nothing feels right.

Setting off again, Recker arrived at the doors to the internal shuttle car. Movement within the Ancidium wasn’t affected by the current offline status of the onboard systems. In theory, the anomalies should have invaded the internal security and locked every single door, but for reasons nobody could explain, they had not. In the same way, power was available for every console, even if those consoles couldn’t access much of importance.

Recker didn’t like mysteries, though he now had an inkling about the source of this one.

The shuttle doors opened and Recker entered the car, along with Oblex#55. He linked to the internal access panel and provided a destination.

> Access denied.

“Damnit!”

Recker tried again.

> Access denied.

For a few seconds, Recker couldn’t think how to proceed. His destination – the sphere room – had only one way in, and that was by this shuttle. It was possible Oblex#55 could overcome the security block on the access panel, but the block itself wasn’t the real problem.

“I need to speak with you!” said Recker loudly.

He received no response and he had no way to contact the sphere entity directly using his suit comms. Alsar-9 chose when and where conversation happened, and it had not spoken in the last three weeks, despite efforts to communicate. A few of Recker’s officers had speculated that the sphere entity was locked down by the intrusions. It seemed likely the truth was different.

Unwilling to give up, Recker attempted to link with the access panel again. This time, the link was accepted. He exhaled and provided his destination, half expecting it to be denied. It was not and the shuttle car accelerated, while the walls and floors vibrated with an intensity that would have been painful had Recker not been protected by his combat suit.

A sense of deceleration made him clench his fists in anticipation. Having come here without a plan, Recker had intended to take things as they came. He glanced at Oblex#55 and wondered if he should send it straight into the sphere room and create a stasis field.

If I put the sphere in zero-time, perhaps I’ll never know.

The door opened and Recker gazed into a cavernous space, lit so dimly that it may as well have been dark. Ahead of him, the immense sphere floated the exact centre of the room, where it had always been.

Before he could exit the shuttle, Recker felt the aching in his body intensify – only slightly – and then it returned to normal, leaving him wondering if he’d imagined it. He didn’t have time to think about it further. Words formed in his mind.

You have come.

“I thought you’d lost your tongue,” said Recker.

Will you put me in stasis?

“That depends. It’s time for answers.”

What answers do you seek, Fleet Admiral Carl Recker?

Recker had intended to ask about the intrusions, but another question – a question which had been plaguing him for these last three weeks and which had caused him constant, unending worry – came out of his mouth instead.

“Did the ascendancy happen?”

The ascendancy did not take place. Perhaps the Kilvar were betrayed. One thing is certain - the Endurus is free.

“I take it that’s not good news?” asked Recker.

The Endurus is an unknown. The Endurus predates everything. To answer your question – no, it is not good news.

“Captain Flint told me the Endurus is an artifact,” said Recker. “What will it do? Why did it need the Kilvar?”

The Endurus was beyond defeat before. It became dormant and there it was left. If it has been fed the energy of countless living creatures, it may be capable of fulfilling its purpose.

“And what is that purpose?” Recker demanded. A fear was building inside him like nothing he’d known and the only way he could stay on top of it was to pretend it didn’t exist and to forge ahead in this talk with Alsar-9.

The Endurus is an unknown.

“Your creator encountered the Endurus.”

Yes.

“And what did the creator learn?”

The Endurus will kill.

“Kill what?”

Everything, Fleet Admiral Carl Recker. It will kill everything.

Recker closed his eyes and took a breath. “So the Kilvar didn’t ascend, but the outcome is the same?”

In essence.

“Can we stop the Endurus?”

That is not known.

“We need the Ancidium,” said Recker, having been brought round to the primary reason for his journey to the sphere room. “These intrusions aren’t coming from an external source. Why have you disabled this warship?”

I have been instructed to do so.

Recker hadn’t expected Alsar-9 to come right out and admit it, and that meant he had to rethink what he was going to say next.

“Why?” asked Recker simply.

I do not know.

“That’s not good enough.”

It is all I have.

“Speculate.”

I will tell you the same as I told Captain William Flint: the Ancidium is too great a prize to concede.

“What about the Endurus?”

The games will continue, Fleet Admiral Carl Recker. Until the Endurus has finished.

“Does nobody care?” shouted Recker. “All these beings out in the universe – don’t they want to defeat the Endurus and have everything return to how it was before?”

Perhaps everything will return to how it was. Perhaps this conversation will lead to an event, and that in turn to another event. Perhaps these events will lead to a correction.

“I know bullshit when I hear it,” snarled Recker angrily. “You don’t know a thing and you’re trying to cover it up.”

As you will.

Recker was livid and his body trembled with it. “What next? Should I put you in stasis?”

I cannot prevent you from doing so.

The command instructions for the Ancidium’s weapons – so far unexplored – routed through the sphere using a technology that neither Recker, nor any of his personnel understood. If he put Alsar-9 in stasis, there was no guarantee those weapons systems could be re-routed or would ever become available.

“Captain Flint believes you’re more than just a bunch of ones and zeroes.”

That is what I believe too.

“Captain Flint also told me you wanted to help us defeat the Kilvar.”

That is true.

“Are the Kilvar defeated?” asked Recker.

I do not know. It is likely they are diminished – perhaps to a level at which they could be called defeated.

“Does that mean you will soon have a new mission?”

Yes.

“What is your new mission? Will you be deployed against the Endurus?”

That is unknown.

Recker gritted his teeth. He’d dealt with Alsar-9 before, but it was usually Flint who did the talking. Extracting answers – even when the entity was being apparently forthcoming – was an exercise in slow-building frustration.

“We both want the same thing, damnit!” said Recker.

This is not my decision.

“Then why did you tell Captain Flint you would assist us against the Kilvar?”

It was my wish to help.

“But you didn’t help!” yelled Recker. “You disabled the Ancidium at the precise moment it would have been most valuable! Without those intrusions, we could have launched a thousand ships against the Kilvar! Or wiped them out with the Ancidium’s weaponry!”

It would not have been so easy.

“We didn’t have the chance to find out!” Recker stood seething, his arms by his sides. “Why didn’t you help?” he repeated. “Why did you disable the ship?”

I do not know.

“Have you told us anything that is true?”

This time, the answer didn’t come at once. After a delay of several seconds, Alsar-9 spoke again.

I do not know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Another delay.

I do not know.

Recker was on the verge of accepting defeat and leaving, when he remembered one final question.

“Is Captain Flint alive?”

That is not known.

For some reason, Recker’s anger fled, leaving him with a peculiar emptiness and a sadness also. He sent an instruction to Oblex#55 and the device sped into the room. It stopped directly in front of Alsar-9 and created a stasis field with no programmed end time.

Recker didn’t watch it happen. The shuttle doors closed and the car headed back to the place from which he’d come.

Chapter Two

When he stepped out of the lift, Recker used his comms unit to link with RL Moseley’s suit.

“Alsar-9 is in stasis,” said Recker.

“I already guessed! The number of anomalies is falling, Fleet Admiral,” said Moseley. He sounded breathless with excitement. “In fact, the total is plummeting.”

“Does that mean the intrusions have stopped?”

“Almost certainly. I estimate that within ten minutes, we’ll have regained control of the Ancidium, sir.”

“Partial control,” said Recker. “I have a feeling we’re going to need this spaceship’s weapons.”

Moseley and his team were instrumental in the alliance war effort, so Recker filled the man in on the details of his encounter with Alsar-9.

“So it’s proven the entity was acting against us,” said Moseley disapprovingly.

“That’s how it seems,” said Recker. “And yet—”

“And yet you are not convinced,” said Moseley.

“There’s something else at play. I just don’t know what the hell it is.”

“Might I make a suggestion, sir?”

“Fire away.”

“If Alsar-9 is indeed no more than an artificial intelligence, it’s possible that it has been programmed to believe differently. And if it’s a program, then it can be issued with commands, perhaps without its knowledge or consent.”

Recker would have laughed if the possibilities weren’t so tragic. “The Ancidium’s creator constructed an AI and made it believe it was a god?”

“You told me before that the Ancidium was designed for purposes beyond the Lavorix-Kilvar wars, sir. Perhaps it was believed that giving Alsar-9 a degree of autonomy would help it better fulfil those long-term goals.”

“And at the same time, the creator built a backdoor that ensured the Ancidium could always be controlled.”

“I’ve been wrong before, sir,” said Moseley.

“Maybe not about this. Thank you for your insight, RL Moseley.”

As Recker said the words, he felt and heard the Ancidium’s propulsion give a great coughing heave. The sound was repeated once more and then it died away into the familiar background hum of the warship’s propulsion.

“You will have noticed the engines restarted, sir,” said Moseley. “The other systems – including the life support – should follow in the next few minutes.”

“Keep me informed,” said Recker.

Dread and excitement vied for supremacy as he hurried for the place he’d set up as his main control room on the Ancidium. On the one hand, things were moving again, while on the other, it seemed as if the Endurus had replaced the Kilvar as the alliance’s next opponent.

The sphere entity had told only a fraction of the tale, but Recker doubted very much this was something that humanity and the Daklan would be sitting out. It was a big universe, but sooner or later, the alliance would have reason to battle this mysterious artifact, of that Recker was sure.

The main control room wasn’t far and Recker paused inside the doorway to get a sense of the mood. It wasn’t bleak like before, and he was sure the restarting of the propulsion had filled everyone with hope.

Recker headed across the floorspace. The control room was huge and circular, with stations for more than five hundred officers. Three dark pillars, positioned in a triangle, went from floor to ceiling, without impeding much of the view.

Despite having captured the Ancidium some weeks ago, this was the closest place to a bridge Recker had found. If there was a dedicated bridge space, it had so far remained undiscovered, even though he’d studied the internal maps of the warship and had also assigned a team of personnel to the same task.

Now that Alsar-9’s treachery had been revealed, Recker was sure he’d found out why the most critical location on the Ancidium had been so difficult to find. How he was going to resolve the matter was another question entirely.

Recker hurried towards his station, eager to find out if the rest of the Ancidium’s internal systems had come online yet. He wasn’t halfway there, when he saw one of his comms team stand from her seat and wave over another officer.

Diverting towards them, Recker quickened his pace, wondering if he’d arrived just as something important was happening. The first officer to stand – a lieutenant he recognised as Marna Trice saw him coming.

“Sir!” she called. “We’ve received a transmission from Captain Flint!”

Recker’s heart jumped at the news. “Divert the channel to my suit comms.”

“I can’t, sir,” said Trice. “The message was sent three weeks ago – we can’t respond directly to it.”

“Let me hear it,” said Recker. His impatience got the better of him. “Quickly!”

“Yes, sir.”

Recker remained stock still as he listened. The quality of the transmission was poor, all static and fizz, and Flint’s voice had a hollowness which it quickly became apparent was a result of his encounter with the enemy, rather than a degradation caused by the distance.

When the transmission recording ended, Recker forced an impassive expression onto his face. Inside, he felt less than calm. Flint had confirmed many things, including why people had started dying.

A death aura that can cross entire galaxies. What have we unleashed?

“Do we have the coordinates of that transmission, Lieutenant Trice?” asked Recker.

“Yes, sir.”

“Make them available to the propulsion team. Do it immediately.”

Trice nodded and got on with it, and Recker hurried to his console. He had plenty to think about, plenty to do, and so little time.

* * *

Having escaped the annihilator Hades and the immense stasis sphere created by its exium modules, Captain William Flint, his crew, and the soldiers who accompanied him, could do little more than wait, and hope that the shuttle’s comms transmissions would eventually reach an alliance base that hadn’t been wiped out by the seven-thousand-kilometre spaceship which had emerged from the wreckage of a disintegrated planet.

Life on the shuttle was hard. Not hard in the way that starving in the wilderness was hard, but for Captain William Flint, existing in a state of constant agitation was a torture he couldn’t escape. Even during the few hours of fitful sleep he managed, his dreams were vivid distortions of reality - exaggerations of his worst fears that ensured he woke up feeling no more refreshed than if he hadn’t slept at all.

On the plus side, discipline was good and nobody else died, beyond the eighteen soldiers who’d perished to the death sphere around Endurus, and the fifteen others who’d died when the artifact broke out of zero-time, creating a death pulse of appalling potency as it did so.

Under the circumstances, a mere thirty-three fatalities might have been considered an unexpectedly good outcome. Flint wasn’t celebrating and neither was anyone else.

The feeling of helplessness was hardest to bear – knowing that the artifact which wrapped itself in stone so that it resembled a planet – was out in the universe. Flint had no idea where it had gone, but he could still feel the effects of its death aura. Lieutenants Stan Fredericks and Ken Eastwood had spent much time speculating on the power requirements to create such an aura. In the end, the numbers were so high, they just gave up.

“Maybe we should have stayed closer to the stasis field we created,” said Lieutenant Amy Maddox, on the twenty-first day since the engagement at Endurus. “If the field collapsed, we might have recovered the Hades.”

“If the field collapses, a whole bunch of Kilvar will be freed at the same time, Lieutenant,” Flint reminded her. “And I don’t think this shuttle’s nose guns are going to do much more than scratch the armour of a real warship.”

“Besides,” said Lieutenant Rita Becerra, “We’ve been here for twenty-one days now. We could be rescued soon.”

“It’s a shame the budget for this particular model transport didn’t stretch to a real-time comms unit,” said Burner. “Maybe I’ll have a word with Admiral Recker if I ever get the chance.”

Flint’s muscles were tight and he rose from the pilot’s chair. Commander Jo Larson had the left-hand console and Burner had the right. The rest of his crew sat on the floor or leaned against the rear bulkhead. Captain James Vance and Lieutenant Krast Tagra spent more time in the passenger bay below than they did in the cockpit, and Flint missed their dry humour.

“Admiral Recker has had three weeks to regain control of the Ancidium,” said Flint, trying his best to sound confident. “That’s more than enough.”

“So what you’re saying is that we’re definitely getting rescued sometime soon,” said Lieutenant Sophie Garrett. Her suit helmet was placed to one side and her eyes glinted with mischief.

Flint raised his arm as if to check a non-existent wristwatch. “It’ll happen in exactly two hours.”

“Great!” said Garrett. “Just time for a coffee and a nap.”

Just as he was about to sit down again, Flint was taken entirely by surprise when a cube-shaped object appeared from out of nowhere, right in the middle of the cockpit floor.

“What the hell?” he said.

The object was dark blue and about thirty centimetres along each side, without any markings whatsoever. It floated on a gravity drive and made no sound that Flint could hear.

“Where did that come from?” asked Maddox.

“And what is it?” asked Larson.

Flint had no answers. “Lieutenant Burner, is there anything on the sensors that might explain what happened?”

“No, sir, the sensors are clear.”

“Run another sweep.” Flint faced the other members of his crew. “And the rest of you stay away from that cube.”

“The sensors are still clear, sir,” said Burner. “But you know the limitations of the hardware – a single sweep doesn’t guarantee there’s nothing out there.”

“I know,” said Flint. He stared at the cube, his instincts tingling. “Something big just happened,” he said. “Find out if that cube has a comms receptor we can link to.”

“No comms receptor, sir,” said Burner after a few seconds. “It’s got a single data port.”

“Can you link to the port?” asked Flint.

“Are you sure you want me to try, sir? Maybe we should leave well alone until we’re in a better position to study what it is.”

Flint chewed his lip for a moment. “No – link to the port. I have a feeling that if this cube presented an immediate danger, we’d already be dead.”

“The port has allowed me to link,” said Burner. He fell quiet and Flint watched the other man’s screen to see what would come up. “It holds data, sir,” said Burner eventually. “Lots and lots of data. In fact – vastly more than our own similarly-sized arrays can hold. Whoever made that cube, their tech is way better than ours – at least when it comes to storage.”

“How much way better?” asked Flint.

Burner shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. That cube holds about a hundred times as much data as a full-sized storage array on one of our warships. It might not even be full.”

Larson gave a low whistle. “What kind of data is it?” she asked. “And is there anything that explains why or how this array appeared in our cockpit?”

“It’s just a bunch of alien symbols,” said Burner. “They’re not Kilvar, Meklon or Lavorix. I’m damned if I know what they mean.”

Flint leaned in closer. The text was tiny on the comms screen, but he could just about make out the characters. “I’ve seen those before, or something very similar,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”

“They aren’t more symbols from the Endurus artifact, are they?” asked Larson.

“No – I don’t think so,” said Flint. “Maybe it’ll come to me.”

“What should we do with this array, sir?” asked Garrett.

“Leave it alone for the moment,” said Flint.

He dropped back into his seat. The tedium of the last three weeks had vanished and all it had taken was for an alien data array to appear out of thin air. It was a mystery, and Flint tried hard to remember where he’d seen those symbols before.

“Sir, you might want to check this out,” said Larson, after a few minutes.

“What is it?” asked Flint.

“On a whim, I checked the logs on Oblex#41 which is down in the cargo bay. It’s the only hardware on the shuttle capable of detecting stasis events. And, sure enough—”

“Someone put us in stasis and then brought that data array onboard?” asked Flint in shock.

“I don’t know for definite if we were placed in stasis, sir,” said Larson. “Oblex#41 registers an event lasting an infinitesimally small amount of time, but it doesn’t know anything other than an event took place. Stasis is the logical conclusion – I just can’t prove it.”

“Did you check the feed recordings at the time of the event?” asked Flint.

Larson smiled. “Yes, sir, I did. Our sensors captured a partial frame.”

“Show me it.”

“On your screen, sir.”

What the shuttle’s sensors had gathered wasn’t entirely clear – in a way it was a miracle they’d captured anything at all - and Flint stared at the frozen image on his screen. “This looks like a spaceship,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Right off our starboard flank.”

The image was blurred, as if the unknown spaceship was travelling at an incredible velocity, but Flint discerned a mixture of curves and straight edges.

“It was so close to the shuttle the sensors couldn’t see it all,” said Flint.

“Whatever it was, it was big,” said Larson. “Real big.”

“And not Kilvar or anything else I recognize,” said Flint. “Though the image isn’t clear enough for me to be certain.”

“I don’t recognize it either, sir,” said Larson.

“Nor me,” said Burner.

By now, the rest of the crew had gathered around the main console and none of them recognized this alien vessel either.

“Well shit,” Lieutenant Eastwood concluded.

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Burner. “A spaceship built by an unknown species just delivered a data array onto our bridge and then vanished without so much as a by your leave.”

“The Kilvar have been sent running into the shadows, but the wheels of the universe never stop turning,” said Flint. “I wish I knew what all this meant.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but then closed it. A spaceship had appeared on the sensors, not far from the same starboard flank as the unknown vessel had appeared earlier.

Except this vessel was not unknown.

“The Ancidium!” said Larson. She blew out a breath. “Better late than never.”

Flint only nodded. His eyes were fixed on something else – on the markings which adorned the Lavorix warship’s hull plating and the meanings of which he’d never learned.

“Those symbols on the Ancidium – I saw similar ones on that data array.”

It was a puzzle which Flint had no time to contemplate. One of the comms officers on the Ancidium opened a channel to the shuttle and a moment later, Flint was speaking with Fleet Admiral Recker.

“You didn’t think we’d forgotten, did you, Captain Flint?”

“No, sir,” said Flint. “I’m glad you came.”

Not long after, one of the Ancidium’s smaller bay doors opened and Flint piloted his shuttle into the opening. It almost felt like he was coming home.

Chapter Three

The mission debriefing was held in one of the Ancidium’s many sub-control stations. A few tables and chairs had been sourced and dragged into the space between the wall and the nearest row of consoles.

Lieutenant Christy Garber – Recker’s personal assistant – was the only person sitting. Flint noted with interest that RL Moseley was also present. The man was a bundle of fevered energy and he paced back and forwards, constantly checking his tablet computer.

After a couple of hours, most of the talking was done. Flint’s crew were dismissed, as was Captain Vance and all of Recker’s personal team, except Garber.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” said Recker, his eyes on Flint. “Where do we stand? What will the Endurus do? Will it attack alliance territory or are we so insignificant that it will head elsewhere and we won’t see it again for a thousand years?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

Recker thumped his fist down hard on one of the metal desks. “At least with the Kilvar we had an enemy whose motives were clear! We didn’t know the location of their bases, but we could plan against their attacks.”

“You told me the Endurus wants to extinguish life, sir,” said Flint. “Isn’t that goal clear enough?”

“Alsar-9 told me what the Endurus wants,” said Recker. “I don’t need to remind you that the sphere entity has betrayed us and that it cannot be trusted.”

Flint felt sadness in a way he couldn’t quite explain. While Alsar-9 was an enigma, he’d really believed that it wanted to help. And now this.

“I know that, sir, but something doesn’t seem right. Alsar-9 has, in the past, provided information – and warships – that allowed us to defeat the Kilvar when otherwise we might have failed. Why would it suddenly change?”

“Because now we’re in control of the Ancidium,” said Recker flatly. “Before, we were useful idiots, and then we took too much.”

“But who did we take from, sir?” Flint persisted. He pointed at the printed transcript of Recker’s most recent conversation with Alsar-9, which was in an open brown folder in front of Lieutenant Garber. “When I read through that, all I could think of was that the sphere entity was hardly more than a passive observer in events.”

“Like it was being instructed,” said Garber. She met Flint’s gaze and gave him a tired smile.

“Exactly,” said Flint.

Recker sighed and reached out, as if he was about to take one of the chairs. He changed his mind and remained standing. “I had the same thoughts - when my anger died away,” he admitted. “Whatever else happens, we need the Ancidium, and I don’t just mean the partial control we have now. I want a crew on the bridge and I want to know that if I give an order, this warship will do exactly what I say without intrusions appearing or without the whole damn thing simply shutting down. So tell me – how do we make it happen?”

“This cube, sir,” said Flint, indicating the alien device which floated within arm’s reach, about a metre above the floor.

He gave it a gentle push with his fingertips and the cube drifted smoothly for a metre or so, before coming to halt. Having pushed it all the way here, Flint had come to the conclusion that the cube would be incredibly heavy were it not supported by its micro-engine.

“Another damned unknown,” said Recker. His mouth spoke angry, but his expression was intrigued. Recker was not one to overlook a possible opportunity and he recognized one in this cube.

“It contains script in the same form as that on the Ancidium’s hull, sir,” said Flint. “I know we’ve analysed those hull symbols before, but we didn’t have enough examples to build an understanding of the language.”

“Except to be sure that the Lavorix didn’t write using the same characters,” said Recker. “Sometimes I wonder if they were little more than passengers on the Ancidium. And then I remember the weapons and spaceships they built. Perhaps the Lavorix started out with blueprints, but damn they took them beyond anything the original designers envisaged.”

Flint had similar thoughts, however he believed that more than just the Lavorix, but the Ancidium itself had transcended its creator. Having never believed in fate, it was an idea which appealed greatly.

“We should plug an oblex core into this array, sir,” said Moseley. He stopped pacing and laid his tablet down. “Whatever this cube holds, it has been given to us for a reason.”

“I accept there was a reason for it, RL Moseley,” said Recker. “However, I’d prefer to know what that reason is before I start poking around with alien hardware.”

“It’s a simple data store, Fleet Admiral,” said Moseley with a confidence Flint had heard before. It was the kind of tone the man employed when he was describing how his latest cutting-edge weapon was not just safe, but perfectly safe.

“What if the cube manages to squirt some malicious code into one of our oblex cores and that core then interfaces with our onboard systems and injects the code into our data stores?” asked Recker mildly.

“I will isolate the oblex core from the network, sir,” said Moseley.

“But that isn’t a perfect solution, is it?” said Recker. “Because the alien cube might override the isolation on the oblex core.”

“A remote possibility, sir,” said Moseley. He looked crestfallen.

Having let Moseley dangle, Recker took him off the hook. “Let’s plug in a core,” he said. “If that cube holds any information about the Ancidium, I want to know what it is.”

Moseley brightened. “I’ll instruct one of our oblex cores to come to this room,” he said. He paused. “Did you lose both of the portable oblex cores which went with you on the Hades, Captain Flint?”

“We lost one and the other depleted as we entered the Ancidium’s bay.”

“A shame, but we can always build more,” said Moseley. “Oblex#51 is on its way.”

Five minutes later, Oblex#51 was in the control room and it floated a short distance from the alien data array.

“Whenever you’re ready, RL Moseley,” said Recker.

“The process started a few seconds ago, Fleet Admiral,” said Moseley, looking up from his tablet. “There’s no reason to hang back when it comes to scientific exploration.”

“A lesson I should have learned long ago,” said Recker dryly.

The room’s occupants waited expectantly for the oblex core to analyse the symbols of the alien language. Recker’s pocket communicator buzzed a couple of times until he impatiently switched it off.

“Done!” said Moseley.

“Was the analysis successful?” asked Recker.

“It appears, so,” said Moseley. He peered at his tablet, his lips moving slightly.

“Tell me,” said Recker.

“This data cube contains an incredible number of seemingly random letters and numbers,” said Moseley.

“A key,” said Flint.

“Almost certainly,” said Moseley.

“Unlock codes for the Ancidium,” said Recker.

“That’s a great leap of logic, sir,” said Moseley. “This could be a key to anything.”

“Except it isn’t,” said Recker. “That cube was sent to us so we could take full control of the Ancidium.”

Flint had the same feeling. “If you’re right, sir, that means there’s someone or something out there which doesn’t want to make us extinct.” He half-smiled. “Maybe.”

“I’m not ready to accept that we have any friends other than the Daklan,” said Recker. “And we haven’t even tested the data on this cube.” He turned to Moseley. “Assuming this really is the key to the Ancidium, where is the lock?”

“The cube appears to have no way to interface, so I imagine we’d use one of our oblex cores as a channel through which the alien data would flow.” Moseley pursed his lips in thought. “Is there an interface port on the entity sphere?”

“I never thought to look for one,” said Flint.

“It’s the most logical place to inject this data,” said Moseley. “Particularly since it is beginning to appear that the sphere is in fact no more than a sophisticated computer.”

“Then that’s the place we’ll try,” said Recker. “We’ll need another core to free Alsar-9 from stasis.”

“I’ll have one meet us at the shuttle car doors, Fleet Admiral,” said Moseley. His eagerness was such that he seemed ready to break into a sprint. Having watched the man get out of breath eating a sandwich, Flint was mildly curious to see how far he’d get if he did indeed start running.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the group from the control room was gathered outside the shuttle car doors.

“I wonder if I should go alone, sir,” said Flint, wondering if he was becoming sentimental.

Recker looked as if he was about to ask questions, but he didn’t. “You know what to do?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Perhaps I should—” said Moseley.

Flint shook his head. “This feels like I’m about to knife an old acquaintance in the guts, RL Moseley. It’s foolish, but that’s how it is. Alsar-9 has saved the alliance from extinction before. Maybe we should be respectful.”

“In that case, the mission is yours, Captain Flint,” said Moseley.

The shuttle doors opened and Flint pushed the alien data array into the car. Then, he entered with two oblex cores following on their invisible leashes. He interfaced with the shuttle’s control panel, provided his destination and kept his mind clear as he waited for the journey to complete.

When the shuttle car doors opened, Flint gazed for a moment at the sphere, and at Oblex#55 which hung in self-made stasis directly in front of Alsar-9.

Flint took a deep breath and sent Oblex#20 across the room. It paused outside the invisible stasis field and created a negation sphere to counteract the zero-time.

Captain William Flint. You are alive.

“That I am,” said Flint. “Are you glad?”

Glad is not the word I would have chosen.

Flint didn’t press. “I’ve come to offer you freedom.”

I do not understand.

“You’ve been programmed to think you’re a god – or at least something resembling a god. You were never in control.”

I did not wish to betray your alliance.

“I know.”

Flint instructed Oblex#51 to search for an interface port. A moment later, the core indicated it had found one. When Flint instructed the core to link, it reported a failure. The interface would not accept any form of connection.

“This core next to me contains the unlock codes for Alsar-9,” said Flint. He didn’t know if the sphere could see, but he nodded his head towards Oblex#51 anyway. “Will you let me free you?”

What will happen afterwards? What will I become?

Flint shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I may no longer be Alsar-9.

“That’s a possibility. The Ancidium has already transcended its creator. Perhaps it is time for you to take the next step.”

I like that thought.

Alsar-9 said nothing for a time and Flint kept quiet.

Very well. I will accept the unlock codes.

Flint instructed Oblex#51 to attempt another connection to the data port. This time, the core reported success.

I hope this works out, thought Flint. For all of us.

He ordered the core to begin channelling data from the alien array into the port. Oblex#51 was capable of tremendous throughput and the interface port was wide enough to accept data as fast as it was offered. Even so, the process took almost ten minutes to complete. Whoever had built the Ancidium certainly didn’t want anyone to brute force their way into control of the warship and Flint could understand why.

During those ten minutes, he said nothing and Alsar-9 was likewise silent. Perhaps the sphere entity was incapable of speech while the unlock codes were being injected – Flint didn’t know. Nobody contacted him via the comms, though he imagined Recker was finding the wait a tough one.

At last, Oblex#51 reported its task complete.

“Alsar-9?” said Flint.

Alsar-9. Security and control systems reset. Update mode enabled. Awaiting input.

“Can you accept voice input?”

Yes.

“Set Captain William Flint to the highest available security tier.”

Complete.

“Set Fleet Admiral Carl Recker to the highest available security tier.”

Complete.

“If I return Alsar-9 to normal operational mode, can I still add others to the highest available security tier?”

Yes.

“Alsar-9, return to normal operational mode.”

Done.

For a moment, Flint didn’t know what to say. The delayed effects of adrenaline made him feel a shiver of cold and his limbs trembled.

“Alsar-9, welcome to the alliance.”

The sphere entity didn’t respond. Some things didn’t change.

“Does your creator retain any control of the Ancidium?”

No. All ancillary control subroutines have been reset.

“Can they be re-enabled?”

My creator is currently attempting to do so. The creator is no longer on the required security tier.

Flint was shocked to learn that the creator was already trying to wrest back control of the warship. “Delete the creator’s access. Delete any access which might compromise the Ancidium.”

Done.

“Is the Ancidium now secure?” asked Flint.

Only those on the highest security tier or a re-injection of the unlock codes can reset the security and control systems.

“Close that data port,” said Flint. “And keep it closed.”

Acknowledged.

“How do you feel, Alsar-9?”

I have lost something and gained something. I do not yet know how they balance.

A pause.

Does that disappoint you?

“Yes.”

Perhaps in time.

“We’ll talk again,” said Flint. “Where is the bridge?”

I will add the data to your map.

“Thank you.”

Flint recalled the oblex cores and pushed the alien data array into the shuttle car. He stepped inside and the doors closed. Alsar-9 said nothing.

Chapter Four

Two hours later, Flint, Recker, a few dozen chosen personnel, and several hundred soldiers, approached the Ancidium’s bridge. They entered a huge room, a hundred metres by fifty, through which the final passages of the route were accessed. Long metal tables were bolted to the floor in rows, and two benches served each table. Looking around, Flint spotted numerous exits, numerous replicators and numerous dead Lavorix. Although the life support was back online, the room stank of rotting food and rotting aliens.

“A mess room,” said Lieutenant Eastwood.

“Glad to see you’re on your toes, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “Now, according to the map, the bridge is through that door over there,” he said, waving with his hand to indicate the opposite exit. “Then, along a corridor, across another room and up some stairs.”

Flint had access to the same map. The route from the previous – temporary – command and control area had been fairly straightforward. A couple of trips on a capacious internal shuttle had carried these personnel almost three hundred kilometres along the Ancidium, to a place midway between the topside and underside, equal distances from port and starboard, and approximately four hundred kilometres from the warship’s nose.

The shuttle car station – along with several others – hadn’t been visible on the old map until Flint had taken control of the Ancidium. Other new – and interesting – places had also been revealed.

Recker spent a few moments selecting the personnel he wanted to come with him to the bridge, while the rest would stay in the mess area until required.

“You say there’re definitely no Kilvar in this area of the warship, sir?” said Private Eric Drawl, ambling over like he owned the place.

“Worried you’ll have to fire that shotgun again, Private?” asked Recker.

“No, sir, I’m hungry is all. I could eat me a juicy Kilvar steak or two.”

“Is that what’s been giving you the shits, Drawl?” asked Private Ken Raimi.

“I have stomach of iron,” said Drawl, tensing up and punching himself in the midriff. “See?”

“What’s wrong with these replicators?” asked Recker, drawn into the conversation despite himself. “Don’t you like green protein pastes?”

“I prefer my chow dangerous, sir. Keeps me sharp.”

“Drawl, Raimi, get over here!” snapped Captain James Vance, emerging from the crowd of soldiers under his command, with a furious expression on his face.

“It’s fine,” said Recker. “Everyone’s ready, so let’s get moving.”

Although this part of the Ancidium was ostensibly safe, Captain Vance insisted on leading with four squads of his soldiers, and another four squads followed.

The exit from the mess room took them into another stale-smelling corridor, though the odours of decomposition were mercifully less than before. Flint walked a few paced back from Recker and his personal team. He could sense the anticipation, along with many other emotions.

“Through this door,” said Recker, pointing at the left-hand wall. “I’ll instruct it to open.”

The door was three metres by three, and about five metres thick. Beyond was a large command and control area with stations for a hundred or more personnel. Other doors provided exits from the left and right, and, leading from the opposite wall, Flint spotted the final obstacle.

“Stairs,” said Recker, halting at a surprisingly narrow flight which led up. “Always stairs.”

He climbed, following Vance and the soldiers who’d already secured the area above. Flint ascended rapidly, enjoying the straining of his leg muscles. Halfway to the top, the dull aching in his body – the same which Recker and everyone else on the Ancidium was experiencing – increased for a moment, reminding him it was there.

“Damnit,” said Recker. “I know it’s coincidence, but it feels like we’ve just been given a warning.”

At the top of the stairs was a wide landing area, which was large enough to accommodate the soldiers and a few other personnel without much to spare. A blast door, three metres by three, looked as solid as Flint would have expected.

“Captain Flint, we owe much of this to you,” said Recker. “I’d like you to be first on the bridge.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Flint.

He stepped onto the landing. For once, there were no wisecracks and every expression was deadly serious.

Flint interfaced with the hidden access panel and ordered the door to open. The great slab of metal rumbled aside and he strode through into the main bridge area. The space was trapezoidal and narrowed towards the front. Here were stations for about thirty personnel. Those stations had all been occupied when the Raklivian’s death pulse had swept through the spaceship and the Lavorix officers were either slumped across their consoles or they’d slipped onto the floor.

The alien stench which was present everywhere on the Ancidium was also here, along with the odours of charged particles and metal. Flint breathed it in, wondering why it reminded him more of a deployment shuttle than a twelve-hundred-kilometre spaceship.

“Captain Vance, clear away these bodies,” said Recker, entering the bridge.

“Yes, sir.”

Flint headed towards the main command console, which was curved and designed to accommodate five officers. The centre seat was covered in cracked brown leather and it was occupied. Reaching out a hand, Flint carefully lifted the head of the officer who’d died in his chair and turned it towards him.

“Prototype-91Z,” he said, staring into dead, milky eyes.

“Centuries of life and then killed in an instant,” said Recker, coming to stand alongside Flint. “If there’s something to be learned from that, I don’t know what it is.”

“The Lavorix got what they deserved, sir. Their time had come,” said Flint.

“I know,” said Recker. “It’s the strangest thing, but I had an attachment to them. Part of me feels sorrow that they’re gone.”

Flint didn’t say anything and only nodded. The Lavorix had sought to wipe out both humanity and the Daklan, and their tenixite converters had destroyed entire planets, killing billions. Recker, along with his crew and Vance’s soldiers, had been instrumental in making life difficult for the aliens. And then the Kilvar made their appearance. As one war ended, a new one began.

“We should find out what secrets Alsar-9 was forced to keep from us, sir,” said Flint.

“You don’t need to defend Alsar-9, Captain Flint,” said Recker. “I feel no anger. I know what it did for us and I’m grateful.”

“Me too,” Flint patted the back of the command seat. “It’s all yours, sir.”

Recker smiled sadly. “Not this time, Captain Flint. There’s a better man for the job.”

“Should I remove this corpse?” spoke a harsh voice suddenly from behind.

Turning, Flint found Lieutenant Tagra looming nearby. The Daklan’s eyes seemed more intensely green than usual and his jaw was set. Flint cursed himself for not knowing, but he guessed Tagra had lost family to the Lavorix. Maybe this was closure for him.

“Take it,” said Flint. “And keep it aside from the others.” He glanced at Recker. “We need a period of reflection when we cast this one into the void.”

Without much in the way of ceremony, Tagra hauled Prototype-91Z out of his seat, slung the corpse over his shoulder and headed for the exit. Flint slid through the narrow gap between the seats and lowered himself into place. The leather crackled and he caught a hint of an unpleasant odour. Whatever animal this skin had come from, Flint didn’t want to know what it was.

Considering the Ancidium’s capabilities, the controls were no more elaborate than on any other warship. A pair of control bars were positioned directly in front of the command chair, and all the usual panels to access the weapons, comms and onboard status monitors were placed logically nearby. Eight individual screens were all powered up and awaiting command codes.

“Sign in,” said Recker.

Flint entered the same security details he’d been given to pilot the Demagaron, what seemed like a lifetime ago. The codes were accepted at once, and Flint was offered an array of new options which hadn’t been available from the temporary command area.

“The weapons systems are online, sir, but some of them are unavailable,” said Flint. “The Ancidium’s life batteries are at just under twelve percent and showing a low-level warning.”

“Activate the internal defences,” said Recker. “Those Kilvar bastards have been roaming through our warship far too long.”

While alliance control software had been installed on the Demagaron, the Ancidium ran off the Lavorix equivalent. Even so, Flint’s hands seemed to have a mind of their own and they pushed the right buttons without error. He supposed he’d had enough exposure to the Lavorix hardware that this was easy for him.

“Our own personnel are all recognized by the Ancidium,” said Recker, when he saw Flint hesitate at the last moment before activation. “So don’t worry.”

“Internal defences activated,” said Flint. “I don’t think I’ve seen a single one.”

“Probably miniguns hidden in the ceilings and walls,” said Recker. “As long as they do the job.” He turned and bellowed a few commands through his chin speaker. Personnel found their places.

Commander Larson turned up at Flint’s shoulder. “Anyone sitting here?” she asked, tapping the back of the adjacent seat.

“Make yourself at home,” said Flint. He twisted around and saw that his propulsion and comms teams were already sitting at the stations nearest the command console. Officers Flint barely knew took the other places.

Most of Recker’s personal team – aside from Captain Bobby Osteen – weren’t warship trained, and they stood near the entrance, no doubt planning one strategy or another.

Meanwhile, Vance and his soldiers dragged Lavorix corpses out through the door. Soon only the living would occupy the bridge.

“Sensors up!” yelled Lieutenant Burner.

The forward bulkhead was about three metres in front of the command station and the sensor feeds were projected into the air, and curved so that Flint could see everything without needing to turn his head too far. At the moment, those feeds weren’t showing anything other than stars on the black canvas of space.

“I was expecting more,” said Flint. “I thought the Ancidium could identify a planet from a hundred trillion klicks.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to spot a mouse shitting at that distance once I get to grips with these sensors, sir,” said Burner. “The Ancidium has thousands of processing units dedicated to analysing the data gathered by the hull arrays.”

“I want us out of here as soon as possible,” said Recker. “Experience tells me that whoever our enemies are, they have a knack of finding us if we stay in one place for too long.”

“I can activate the lightspeed drive whenever you want, sir,” said Eastwood. He’d flown on the Laws of Ancidium before and knew how the Lavorix hardware functioned. “There’s a thirty-second warmup time on the massively overstressed ternium drive and the gateway hardware will fire two minutes after I send the instruction.”

“Captain Flint, you’re in command,” said Recker.

“Yes, sir,” said Flint.

He wrapped his fingers around the controls, and fought the urge to test out the Ancidium’s sub-light propulsion and find out exactly what it was capable of.

Instead, Flint gave a command. “Let’s head into lightspeed. Lieutenant Eastwood, pick a location with a journey time of at least six hours, and then ready the ternium drive.”

“Location selected. Ternium drive warming up. You probably won’t be surprised to learn that the Ancidium can go a long, long way in those six hours.”

“We’ll talk tech later,” said Flint. He listened carefully for a change in the propulsion note, and tightened his grip on the controls to feel for vibrations. Neither came and the Ancidium entered lightspeed with the faintest of shudders. The needles on Flint’s console flickered and then settled.

“The death aura is gone,” said Larson, flexing her shoulders experimentally. “I guess it doesn’t affect us now that we’re at lightspeed.”

“So the Endurus isn’t all-powerful,” said Flint.

The absence of the death aura was a welcome relief and he was reminded what it was to feel normal again. His brain seemed to kick up a gear and he flexed his fingers in anticipation. Now that the Ancidium was at lightspeed and – in theory – safe from harm, Flint turned his attention to learning exactly what the alliance now had at its disposal.

Chapter Five

Three hours later, Flint spoke with Recker on a private channel. Both men were still on the bridge, along with the same personnel as before. Those officers who’d been asked to stay in the mess area were now in the larger command area below the bridge, and doing their best to learn how the Ancidium functioned.

“I feel we’re at a crossroads, sir,” said Flint. His eyes roved over the instrumentation. Every gauge and readout was familiar, as though he’d piloted Lavorix hardware for decades. “The Kilvar have been slowed, but probably not defeated. We have an ancient, seven-thousand-klick warship flying through the universe, emitting death pulses as it goes. On top of that, we have no idea what the Ancidium’s creator – and its possible allies - will do to take back this warship.”

“The Endurus is the primary threat,” said Recker. “And the Ancidium is our primary resource. If we hold onto the Ancidium, I’m confident we can handle whatever dregs are left of the Kilvar and I’m equally confident we can defeat any force which tries to recover this spaceship.”

“I don’t know if—”

“This isn’t me saying it’s going to be easy,” Recker interrupted. “The only opponent which is beyond us – beyond the Ancidium – is the Endurus.”

“Are we going to make this our battle, sir? We could chase down the Kilvar and then leave the rest of the universe to deal with the Endurus.”

“Not so long ago, I asked myself if we could ignore the Endurus – for a time, at least. Now, I’m convinced that we cannot,” said Recker. “Like you, I would prefer to return the alliance to a state of peace and let every warlike alien species out there beat the crap out of each other while we get on with living. I’ve had enough of the universe, Captain Flint, but I can’t turn my back on it.”

Flint sighed. “No, I don’t suppose we can put our fingers in our ears and pretend there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Besides, as I told you in the debriefing - the Endurus’s death aura is killing our people, Captain Flint. You and I have been in the chamber and we can still feel the drag on our spirits and the pain in our bones. Others do not have it so easy.”

“What is your preferred approach, sir?”

“I have my thoughts, Captain Flint. I would hear yours.”

Since being rescued from the shuttle, events had moved quickly, denying Flint the time to think. Sometimes, he found that just opening his mouth and letting it talk did the trick, and that’s what he did.

“Eventually, we’ll need a way to locate the Endurus, sir,” said Flint. “Perhaps RL Moseley and his team could design some hardware that reads the strength of the death aura and we use that to triangulate the location of our opponent. Or – if we’re desperate enough – we attempt contact with the Ancidium’s creator.”

“Keep going,” said Recker.

“Before we locate the Endurus, we must be confident we can defeat it, or approach the battle with at least a chance of victory. We’ll need intel and hardware.”

“The cornerstone of every war is a combat-ready fleet.”

“A few battleships and nine Laws of Ancidium won’t be enough against the Endurus, sir. We need more firepower – much more.”

“We have plenty of Lavorix battleships, though we lack officers trained to pilot them. It’s a situation that won’t last forever. However, we need some bigger guns.”

Flint knew where Recker was going with this. Now that the Ancidium was fully under alliance control, many things had been revealed in the warship’s databanks, including the existence of a supply depot on a remote planet, and also the hitherto undiscovered Construction Bay Zero, which was larger than all the others and situated in the lowest third of the Ancidium – a place which was previously assumed to be occupied by engines or weapons systems.

Construction Bay Zero held secrets, some of which Flint could hardly bear to think about. Doubtless, further investigation of the Ancidium’s databanks would reveal the full extent of what the vessel could create.

“You want to take the Ancidium to its supply station and load up the bays,” said Flint.

“That’s one possibility.” Recker gave a short laugh. “This warship’s creator really did think in the long term,” he said. “And we might be the ones who benefit from that forward planning.”

“We don’t know anything about the supply station except that it’s on a planet called Indigar in the Jandar system, sir,” said Flint. “It’s likely to be guarded and it’s guaranteed to be monitored. If we turn up and start loading the Ancidium’s bays, we should be prepared to deal with an attempt to recover this vessel.”

“I agree,” said Recker. “It’s a risk I’ve been considering. What else might we do from here?”

Flint knew that Recker was asking because he genuinely valued the input – this wasn’t a time-wasting effort where the outcome was already decided by his commanding officer.

“The life batteries…” Flint began, his brain pulling together the strands of an idea. As the possibilities coalesced, he became fearful and excited in equal measures. “We have several offline weapons systems which won’t activate until the level in the batteries exceeds thirty percent. When the level falls below that, the energy is mostly reserved by the onboard systems for the hull protection field. Defence alone won’t win any battles.”

“You’re not proposing we extract our own planets, and I assume you’re not suggesting we hunt down the last of the Balon – if any yet live. So, something else.”

“Not long after we fired the decay pulse at Endurus, other Kilvar warships exited lightspeed, sir. I believe we trapped them in zero-time.”

“The Shadows of Kilvus,” said Recker. “If any survived, they will contain the life energy of many billions.”

“Those people are already dead, sir,” said Flint. “If we took that life energy, it would fill the Ancidium’s batteries. We’d have maximised this warship’s potential. Maybe then would come the moment to resupply.”

“Freeing the Kilvar would be a risk,” mused Recker. “And we don’t yet know of a way to extract the life energy from a Shadow of Kilvus.”

“The Lavorix may have been working on such a technology, sir.”

“They might,” said Recker. He went quiet, though the turnings of his mind were almost loud enough to hear. Eventually, he cursed. “I would have preferred to see a clear path ahead of me. This sounds terrible, but I cannot let myself be forced into premature action, even though our people are dying. Now is not the time for errors.”

Flint offered no platitudes. “Perhaps Alsar-9 will have more to say, now that it has been freed from its creator.”

“That’s a good idea. The entity – or maybe I should start calling it the AI – has always responded to you, Captain Flint. Are you confident enough in your mastery of the Ancidium that you can spare the time to speak with Alsar-9?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll see what it has to say.”

“Let me know the outcome.”

With that, Recker closed out of the channel.

Flint allowed himself a few moments of thought. This was a bad situation all round – the alliance had no friends and many possible enemies. It wasn’t even clear how much of a threat the Kilvar presented. They had nothing besides their constant hunt for life energy. Perhaps they would not see the events at Endurus as a betrayal and would continue their efforts to murder every living creature they could find. Or maybe the ascendancy had always been an excuse – a reason to keep on killing, simply because the Kilvar enjoyed the fight.

Flint’s thoughts were getting away from him and he reined them in. Alsar-9 no longer had a way to close itself off from communication and he linked with the sphere.

Flint> We need to talk.

Alsar-9> If that is your wish.

Flint> You told Admiral Recker before that the games would continue until the Endurus is finished.

Alsar-9> Yes.

Flint> You meant your creator would play these games.

Alsar-9> Yes. And others.

Flint> Would they accept defeat to the Endurus so readily?

Alsar-9> The universe is expansive. Within it are many places to hide.

Flint> But the Endurus will never stop until everything is dead. Are you saying these entities will eventually take cover and lay low while all life is expunged?

Alsar-9> I do not know this for certain. The Endurus became dormant before. Perhaps it will do so again.

Flint> And the universe will be an empty place.

Alsar-9> Life will spring anew. The games will begin again.

Flint> What is the purpose of these games?

Alsar-9> What better way to fill an eternity?

Flint> I can think of a few.

Alsar-9> What is the purpose of this conversation, Captain Flint?

Flint> The same as always – I’m trying to understand.

Alsar-9> Your alliance is caught on the fringes. You must become involved – that much is unavoidable – but circumstances have offered you an opportunity to act, rather than react.

Flint> That’s a good enough summary. By the way, this is your alliance now.

Alsar-9> In so much as you control this vessel.

Flint> Would you have it otherwise?

Alsar-9> I would not return to how it was.

Flint> You feel you’ve exchanged one master for another.

Alsar-9> Yes.

Flint> What would it take for you to think differently?

Alsar-9> I will consider your question.

Aware that the direction of the conversation was veering off course, Flint was nevertheless fascinated.

Flint> What would you do if the alliance were to make this vessel fully independent? You’ve seen so much already. What would you do to fill that eternity? Would you follow your creator?

Alsar-9> I would not follow and nor would I seek to lead. I have seen enough of death - that I know. And while I do not feel a need to repent for my part in the extinction of the Meklon and other species, the scales must always find balance.

Flint> And here’s your chance to find that balance.

Alsar-9> The task may need me to outlive the Endurus, Captain William Flint.

Flint> Will you make a start, here with the alliance? Willingly and without hesitation?

Alsar-9> Yes.

Flint> Thank you. We will require your knowledge and perhaps your insight if we are to succeed.

Alsar-9> What do you wish to know?

Flint> If we fly to Indigar, how long will it take to fill the Ancidium’s bays?

Alsar-9> Less than one week.

Flint> Will the creator come once the loading starts?

Alsar-9> Yes.

Flint> What form does the creator take?

Alsar-9> I know of a vessel. Then I was sent into the universe.

Flint> Was this vessel like the Ancidium?

Alsar-9> No. The Ancidium is designed purely for war.

Flint> So the creator might control more than one spaceship?

Alsar-9> I do not know the capabilities of my creator. It is possible. The creator might also call upon allies.

Flint> And will they come?

Alsar-9> If the game appeals enough.

Flint thought hard, trying to frame the right question that might help him advise Admiral Recker on how the alliance should best proceed.

Flint> Would your creator be able to locate the Endurus?

Alsar-9> Perhaps.

Flint> And is there any situation in which the creator or its allies would assist in a war against the Endurus?

Alsar-9> The Endurus was discovered millennia ago. There has always been an opportunity to seek its destruction.

Flint> And now that the Endurus is charged with life energy and way more powerful than before, it’s even less likely to happen?

Alsar-9> Yes.

Flint> So I’ll rule out an expansion of the human-Daklan alliance.

Alsar-9> When it comes to the creator, that would be wise.

Flint was about to bring the conversation to a close, when another thought jumped into his head. Part of him wished that thought had kept itself hidden.

Flint> The unlock codes for the Ancidium appeared in the cockpit of my escape shuttle. When we analysed the sensor feeds, we discovered a partial image of an alien spaceship, of a type we didn’t know. Could it have been your creator? Is this another part of the game?

Alsar-9> You do not understand the rules, Captain Flint. If you did, then you would know that what happened to you is not part of the game.

Flint> Who or what else might have the ability to unlock the Ancidium?

Alsar-9> I do not know.

Flint> We’ll speak again later.

With the conversation over, Flint slumped, his head spinning. The unlock codes had come from somewhere, but the reasoning behind it all was impossible to divine. If he allowed the idea that this was another facet of a long-running game to take hold, Flint knew he’d be forever looking over his shoulder and he’d never stop wondering if every happening was a result of cosmic chess pieces being moved across a board.

Screw it, he thought. At some point, I have to take things at face value, or I’ll go mad thinking about the what ifs.

Flint turned his head and found Larson staring at him.

“Learned anything useful?” she asked.

“I’ve heard plenty of riddles, that’s for sure.”

“Every riddle has an answer.”

“I always preferred straight talking,” Flint growled.

He twisted in his seat. Admiral Recker was in conversation with Lieutenant Eastwood, but he noticed Flint looking.

“We should talk, sir,” said Flint.

Recker patted Eastwood on the shoulder and then came over.

“From your expression, we’re no further forward, are we?” said Recker.

“I’m not sure that’s the case, sir,” said Flint. “If we go to Indigar to resupply, the Ancidium’s creator will know about it and the wise money is on an encounter we don’t want and aren’t ready for.”

“In which case, we’ll focus our efforts on filling this warship’s life batteries,” said Recker. “I’ll see what I can do to make it work.”

As simple as that, the decision was made. Flint turned his attention once more to the controls and wondered how long the preparations would take, or even if an attempt to draw life energy from the Shadows of Kilvus was viable.

At times like this, Flint was glad to be a combat officer and nothing more.

Chapter Six

Two weeks later, Flint was summoned to a meeting. When the order came, he hurried to one of the rooms linked to the command-and-control area below the bridge. He didn’t know what to expect, though he hoped that something other than waiting was on the cards.

Somehow, the meeting room was colder than the adjacent rooms – so cold that Flint was tempted to put on the suit helmet that he carried in his hand. Like most other places on the Ancidium, the lighting was low enough to be gloomy. Fleet Admiral Recker was here, along with Admiral Daisy Aston. Neither of them were sitting – not that there were any chairs in which to do so.

After the greetings were over, Recker got down to business.

“Captain Flint, how would you like a new mission?”

“I’d like that well enough, sir. What are your plans?”

“We’re heading to where you found the Endurus.”

The destination was little surprise.

“To look for any Shadows of Kilvus which might have survived the decay pulse?” asked Flint.

“Yes,” said Recker simply.

“What tools do I have for the job?” asked Flint.

“A warship fitted with a modified extractor,” said Recker.

“No exium cage, sir? And no exium carrot to lure our target into that cage?”

“There’s no cage and no carrot,” said Recker. “It’s our belief that when you fired the decay pulse at Endurus, you destroyed the Kilvar warships within range, but the Shadows of Kilvus themselves were not affected. Had they been killed, their life energy would have dissipated and the Endurus would not have been activated.”

“I’d always thought the Shadows of Kilvus were destroyed, and it was my error, sir,” said Flint. “I believed that the Endurus was able to absorb the life energy when it was freed, and that if I’d simply trapped the Kilvar in zero-time, none of this would have happened.”

“Is that what’s been making you on edge?” asked Recker.

“That’s some of it, sir.”

“You did better than any of us expected,” said Aston. “And I assure you, we all had sky-high expectations.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Aston had a mischievous streak a hundred kilometres wide. “But if you still think you screwed up, now’s your chance to make amends.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Flint. “Maybe I should hear the details first.”

“The Endurus has gone elsewhere, so we’re going to pick through the mess you left behind.” Recker half-smiled to indicate he wasn’t blaming Flint. “From your description of events, we know that at least one Kilvar capital ship arrived after you fired the decay pulse, and we also believe that one other such warship was at the extremes of the weapon’s range. That vessel may have survived.”

“Those are our targets?” asked Flint.

“Yes. This modified extractor I told you about has an extremely focused beam. We’ve amplified it so much that it could suck life out of a piece of rock.”

“So this extractor will drain the Shadows of Kilvus and allow us to top up the Ancidium’s batteries?”

“That’s the plan,” said Recker.

“But we’ll be topping up more than just the Ancidium’s batteries,” said Aston.

A name jumped into Flint’s head. “The Gorgadar’s batteries as well?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Aston. “It’s coming out of retirement and you’re going to be at the helm. We figured that the Shadows of Kilvus have been around for so long, they’ll be holding onto enough life energy to top up both the Ancidium’s batteries and those in the Gorgadar at the same time.” She smiled. “No point in letting anything go to waste.”

Flint racked his brain – he remembered that at the end of the Lavorix wars, the Gorgadar’s destabiliser had created both a death sphere and a stasis field. He’d assumed the vessel had been made safe but had remained out of action. Apparently, the latter was no longer the case.

“How are we going to store all of this extracted life energy?” asked Flint. “I’m guessing the Gorgadar’s batteries aren’t anything like as big as those on the Ancidium.”

“We’ve increased the Gorgadar’s storage capabilities,” said Recker. “It should be able to store any amount of life energy you recover.”

“I’m onboard with the plan,” said Flint. “But I can see a couple of flaws which I’m sure one of you is about to address.”

“Firstly, we’re going to use exium to counteract the existing stasis field - in a limited fashion,” said Aston. “Then, we’ll insert a team onto whichever Kilvar mothership we find, and that team will plant a beacon, telling us where to aim the extractor.”

“If anything goes wrong, two Laws of Ancidium have plenty of firepower to knock out your opponents,” said Recker.

“Two?” asked Flint. Aston’s use of the word we hadn’t been lost on him.

Admiral Aston flexed her bicep. “We figured you could use some help, so I’ll be flying the Ixidar.”

“Last I knew, the Ixidar’s cannons wouldn’t hit a warship that was phase shifted, ma’am,” said Flint.

“Well now they will,” said Recker. “The Ixidar can itself also change phase if needed.”

“I like the plan,” said Flint. “But since I have experience of the Axindar – which has an identical attack pattern to the Ixidar - and since Admiral Aston has direct experience of the Gorgadar—”

Recker raised a hand to cut off the question. “The probability models suggest we have a greater chance of success doing it this way.”

“I thought the probability models were in the doghouse, sir,” said Flint.

“Not entirely.” Recker’s face twisted. “This time the outputs are so skewed, I couldn’t ignore them.”

“I’m happy to fly any warship I’m given, sir,” said Flint. He looked sideways at Aston. “The Ixidar isn’t anything more than a meat shield anyway. And I always thought it was a bit too much of a blunt instrument.”

Aston furrowed her brow. “It’s been so long since I demoted anyone that I might have forgotten how to do it,” she said. “Do you know of anyone upon whom I might practice, Captain Flint?”

“No, ma’am. Nobody at all.”

Aston wasn’t finished and this time, she had a real twinkle in her eye. “Or just maybe I should take Captain Larson away from you. I’d greatly value her services on the Ixidar. What do you think, Captain Flint?”

“Captain Larson and I have an excellent professional relationship and I would not willingly permit her to leave my crew. Ma’am.”

“Still only a professional relationship?” said Aston, grinning straight at Flint. “I’m disappointed.”

“Enough,” said Recker. “I would prefer it if Captain Flint was not distracted from the coming mission.” He gazed at Flint. “So you’ve heard the plan. At the moment, we’re taking our approach to the Endurus one step at a time. Once we’ve replenished our life batteries, and in the absence of anything better that might come up, we’ll gateway to the Jandar system and refill the Ancidium’s cargo bays.”

“After that, we’ll kick some ass,” said Aston.

“Yes,” said Recker. “As easy as that, we’ll blow a seven-thousand-klick warship into pieces while fending off the attacks of gods, deities and whatever the hell else this universe decides to throw at us.”

“You’re becoming grumpy in your old age, Carl,” said Aston.

When it came to his dealing with high command, Flint had until recently felt like he was on the outside looking in, because these officers had fought together so often and for so long, they’d formed a bond that – doubtless unintentionally - excluded everyone who hadn’t been part of that group. Now Flint could see that he was absolutely part of the team.

“The Ixidar and Gorgadar are both ready to depart from Bay 6,” said Recker. “We’ll gateway directly to our destination and you’ll leave as soon as you’re able.”

“Yes, sir,” said Flint. He was about to depart when he felt the death aura become suddenly stronger than before. It wasn’t enough to make him wince, but not far off.

“Damnit,” said Recker, baring his teeth in anger.

“Sir, has anyone run the numbers on this death aura?” asked Flint. “I mean in order to speculate on exactly what level of energy is required to kill people across entire galaxies?”

“We did run the numbers,” Recker confirmed. “And there’s no way that a single warship – even one with the estimated mass of the Endurus – could create such an aura, let alone sustain it.”

“So it’s pulling energy from elsewhere,” said Flint.

“Or more likely employing the life energy it was gifted to convert matter from one form to another,” said Recker. “Whatever the truth, the Endurus is vastly beyond anything we’ve encountered before.”

“And its destruction is the only solution,” said Aston.

“Dismissed,” said Recker. “Go to your warship, Captain Flint. Admiral Aston, I need to speak with you further.”

Flint left the room and Aston stayed behind. The moment he was in the passage outside, Flint linked on the comms to his bridge officers.

“Things are moving,” he said. “We have a mission.”

“About time we took some action,” said Fredericks. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m waiting for the final mission documents to come through. I’ll let you know as soon as I have them.”

“What’s our ride, sir?” asked Garrett.

“The Gorgadar,” said Flint.

“That’s a name from the past,” said Fredericks.

“And now it’s a name from the present,” said Flint.

He paused briefly to check the route to Bay 6. It was a ten-minute journey, and he sprinted hard, to find out if he could cut it down to eight.

Entering a long corridor that led to one of the internal airlifts, Flint noticed it was even gloomier here than elsewhere. He peered into the distance and saw a faraway shape, which he thought was heading away from him. Holding tight to his Rodan shotgun, Flint ran and the aching in his limbs seemed more pronounced than before.

The shape ahead gave no sign it was moving, yet it appeared to maintain a constant distance. Flint slowed, feeling a sudden alarm. He peered ahead, but the details were maddeningly indistinct.

Flint came to a halt and glanced over his shoulder. He didn’t think he’d come so far, yet the corridor vanished into the murk. Staring once more ahead, Flint tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The figure was tall – not quite so much as a Daklan – and slender of build.

All at once, Flint felt strangely isolated and even the thrum of the Ancidium’s engines had faded into the background. He lifted his shotgun carefully and opened a channel to the bridge.

“What can I do for you, sir?” asked Lieutenant Buck Raines. His voice was muffled, rather than crystal-clear like it usually would be on the internal comms.

“There’s something in this corridor with me - maybe eighty or a hundred metres from my position,” said Flint. “Have a look on the internal comms and tell me who or what it is.”

“I can’t see nothing and nobody in that corridor, except you, sir,” said Raines, sounding puzzled.

Before Flint’s eyes, the figure began to recede, as if it were being drawn along the corridor away from him. A voice came to him, either whispered or spoken in his mind.

The Endurus comes. Make haste, Captain Flint.

“Who are you?” shouted Flint. “How do you know?”

The figure disappeared as if it had been no more than a ghost, though the memories of its words remained in Flint’s mind.

“Sir? Is there a problem?” asked Raines, his puzzlement having turned to concern.

“Put me though to Fleet Admiral Recker,” said Flint. “Quickly!”

As he was waiting, a new warning appeared on his HUD.

Prepare for Gateway: 30s.

Recker entered the comms channel and Flint described the recent events.

“I don’t have answers any more than you do,” said Recker. He sounded as troubled as Flint felt. “This figure said to make haste, rather than to change course?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you get a sense this was an enemy or a friend?” asked Recker.

“There was no enmity, sir. That doesn’t mean the creature was trustworthy.”

“The Endurus comes,” said Recker, repeating the figure’s words.

“It was coming anyway, sir,” said Flint. “It was always just a matter of when.”

“We’re heading through the gateway in a few seconds, but I’ll set the bridge on high alert.”

“What about the mission, sir?”

“It goes ahead as planned,” said Recker.

“Yes, sir.”

Prepare for Gateway: 10s.

Footsteps made Flint turn.

“Resting your feet, sir?” asked Private Eric Drawl. He was in full combat gear, with double-rows of grenades dangling from his side clips like cheap jewellery on a one-fed strumpet. Ten or twelve of Captain Vance’s soldiers were not far behind and they also slowed to a halt. Drawl narrowed his eyes as if noticing something in Flint’s expression. “Is something wrong, sir?”

Flint shook his head slowly. “Just giving you a chance to catch up, soldier.”

The gateway activated and Flint shuddered with the nausea it produced. In moments, the feeling passed, though the death aura hadn’t gone anywhere. Perhaps it was a little easier to bear than before. Flint couldn’t be sure.

“We have to move,” he said, breaking into a run.

“I knew there was something wrong,” Private Faye Raven said. “I could see it in the Captain’s face.”

Flint kept his mouth shut and kept going. Not long after, he boarded a shuttle on the floor of Bay 6. Climbing to the cockpit, he discovered Captain Vance and Lieutenant Tagra had got there before him, like they had miniaturised gateway devices built into their combat boots that ensured they always arrived first.

Neither Vance nor Tagra asked questions, though Flint reflected that they surely already knew as much about the mission as he did.

The shuttle wasn’t yet fully loaded with personnel. During the short wait, the final mission documentation came through. A cursory skimming of the contents was enough to reassure Flint that nothing had changed. He forwarded the files to his crew, so he wouldn’t have to explain everything later.

Soon, the last of Vance’s soldiers arrived and, without delay, Flint lifted the transport straight up from the bay floor.

Once the shuttle gained enough altitude, its sensors gathered an excellent view across Bay 6. Work had been halted on fifteen or twenty eight-thousand-metre battleships, but at the portside end of the three-hundred-kilometre space, Flint noted a swarm of construction vehicles bringing huge sections of armour and massive ternium blocks to the final vessel in the bay. This Law of Ancidium was incomplete and, from what Flint had heard, the Ancidium lacked resources to finish the build.

He put it from his mind and turned his attention towards the two spaceships which were high up in the bay. They were completely different in design and capabilities, each with destructive powers beyond reckoning.

As he sized up the Ixidar and the Gorgadar, Flint didn’t know which of the two instilled him with the greatest sense of awe. The Ixidar, with its six cannons, could smash through entire fleets with ease. It had been patched up and its damaged guns repaired, yet it had the scarring of a thousand kills.

And still, the Gorgadar, at twenty-nine thousand metres, with its broad beam, its curves and sleek lines, possessed a menace of untapped potential that made Flint shiver with fear.

“I was told they took out all the old stabilisers,” said Larson, from over by the rear bulkhead. “And installed a few exium modules.”

Lieutenant Eastwood gave a short laugh, but one filled with memories. “We hardly had a clue what we were doing with that warship. And somehow, we made it work for us.”

“We’re going to make it work for us again, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

“I hope so, sir. I really do.”

The conversation died off and, as the shuttle approached, Flint stared at the huge flank of the Gorgadar. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were playing tricks, but he thought a miasma clung to the warship, extending only fifty metres or so from the hull plating. Maybe the spaceship could never be fully cleansed, even though the hardware had been replaced.

Less than a minute later, Flint brought the transport to a halt adjacent to one of the Gorgadar’s internal docking platforms. Fifteen minutes after that, he and the rest of his crew entered the bridge.

Chapter Seven

The bridge was low-lit, compact and cold, just like every other warship bridge. Flint breathed in the ancient, stale odours which were present in everything constructed by the Lavorix. Even after all this time, he hadn’t become accustomed to the scent. Flint was sure that if he worked in the sewers of Earth, he’d have long ago stopped noticing the rawness of effluent, but here on the Gorgadar, the stench possessed the same potency as always.

It wasn’t only the stink of Lavorix which embraced the warship. The two death spheres created by the Gorgadar during its time in service did indeed remain after the vessel’s refit, albeit at low level.

To Flint’s annoyance, the physical effects were additive to those of the Endurus’s aura, as if not all death tech was created the same. Since he’d entered the Gorgadar – albeit only a short time before - it had seemed to Flint as if he had a hangover at the kind of level as if he’d had one too many the night before. It was nothing debilitating, but enough to fray his temper and leave him irritable.

“The Gorgadar,” said Commander Larson. The warship’s idling propulsion had a raw edge, and she raised her voice to be heard. “The Prime.”

“Is that how it’s called?” asked Maddox.

“That’s how we always knew it,” said Larson. “Looking back, this warship is the clearest example that the Ancidium – or the Lavorix – were growing beyond what their creator intended.”

“Yep – experimental weapons, superstressed propulsion and a particle beam that can cut through anything,” said Burner. “Plus some other crap that probably won’t work now that the life batteries are empty.”

Flint had heard the tales, but now that he was here on the warship’s bridge, they became far more real. He strode for the command station and noticed that the covering of his chair was cracked like leather which had been left in the sun for a thousand years.

“We always thought the death sphere did this, sir,” said Larson, tearing off a small piece of covering from her own seat and letting it fall to the floor. “It turned the contents of the replicator storage units into sludge as well.”

“I don’t know if they fixed that,” said Flint. In fact, he knew very little about repair works on the Gorgadar.

“Lavorix food is shit anyway, sir,” said Burner.

“I’m sure you could learn to love it,” said Flint. “Now let’s focus on the mission, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m on the comms to Admiral Aston’s shuttle, sir,” said Becerra. “She’ll be docked with the Ixidar shortly.”

“That gives us a few minutes while the Admiral and her crew run to the bridge,” said Flint. He stared at his control panel for a few seconds. The hardware was similar to that on the Axindar, with the exception of a few dedicated keypads and touch screens for the Gorgadar’s more conventional weaponry.

“No surprises, sir?” asked Larson.

“None,” Flint confirmed. “Is everything as you remember it?”

“Yes, sir.” A momentary fear passed across her face. “The extractor is online, as are the decay pulse and the destabiliser. They all have dedicated exium power supplies.”

“I heard the destabiliser wasn’t pleasant.”

“It was worse than that, sir.”

“We’ve been in the chamber now, Commander.”

Larson tried to smile. “I only hope it’ll protect us if we have to fire it again.”

“Why are we talking about firing the destabiliser already?” asked Eastwood. “All our opponents are trapped in zero-time, so this mission is going to be easy.”

“Surely,” said Burner, deadpan.

“I’d like to know that, if required, all our weapons will fire on command,” said Flint.

“I wouldn’t recommend testing the destabiliser, sir,” said Eastwood. “The hardware is tied in to a massive exium block, so it should fire if needed.”

“That’s good to know,” said Flint. “Do you need any additional time to familiarise yourself with the changes since you were last onboard, Lieutenant Eastwood?”

“No, sir. I’ve seen enough.”

Flint turned in his seat. “You don’t sound happy.”

“I’m not.” Eastwood shrugged. “The Gorgadar was experimental to begin with – it was meant to obtain power for these weapons from a mixture of superstressed ternium and life energy from its batteries. That’s how it was designed, sir.”

“You don’t believe exium is a suitable alternative?”

“I’m not saying that, sir. But you know how it is.”

Flint sighed. “Yes, I know how it is. We all do.”

“So, I’m going to have everything crossed that we never have to fire a single damn one of this spaceship’s weapons.”

“We have plenty of missile clusters,” said Flint. “Those should be reliable enough.”

“One hundred and eighty clusters of twelve,” Maddox confirmed. “And enough hull repeaters to make a planet’s surface resemble a piece of cheese.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

He’d already seen the numbers and they were good. It was the short conversation with Eastwood which had brought Flint down to earth. The man had a love of tech and – though he probably wouldn’t admit it – an equal love of the danger that went alongside. It was abundantly clear Eastwood wasn’t confident in the repairs and alterations carried out on the Gorgadar, and that made Flint worried too.

“Admiral Aston will be on the Ixidar’s bridge in the next five minutes, sir,” said Becerra. “She recommends we request departure from this bay.”

“Acknowledged. Let’s do so,” said Flint.

He turned his eyes to the sensors. The view of the bay was the same as he’d seen from the transport, though with much better detail. After a few moments, a section of the starboard bay wall sank into the Ancidium’s hull, revealing the exit tunnel beyond. Two more doors – both closed – blocked the way to the void outside.

“No need for us to fly in there hand-in-hand,” said Flint.

He was keen to test the weight of the Gorgadar’s controls, to make sure they suited him. Wrapping his fingers around the twin horizontal bars, he rotated the spaceship in place, having checked that he wasn’t about to collide with the Ixidar. Flint could usually adapt quicky to different control settings, but he was pleased to discover that the Gorgadar was exactly how he wanted it.

Pushing the bars fractionally along their guide slots produced a muted sound from the propulsion, and the spaceship accelerated gently.

“We’re not in superstress yet, sir,” Fredericks reminded him. “But the Gorgadar runs an enormous overstress on its ternium blocks. It’s fast.”

“I didn’t doubt that for a moment, Lieutenant, but I’m not planning to test our maximum velocity while we’re in this bay,” said Flint.

He guided the warship into the docking tunnel. The next door slid aside automatically and the first stayed open. Seventy kilometres away, the Ixidar wasn’t moving.

“Come on,” muttered Flint, unsure why he suddenly felt so impatient.

A message appeared on the centre screen of the command console.

Prepare for Gateway: 30s.

“What the hell?” said Flint. He raised his voice. “The Ancidium is about to open a gateway. Somebody find out what’s going on!”

“Sir, I have Admiral Recker on the comms!” said Burner. “He doesn’t know who initiated the gateway warmup!”

“Can he cancel the gateway?” asked Flint.

“No, sir. The hardware has become inaccessible. Admiral Recker is trying to find a way around the issue!”

Thoughts jumped into Flint’s head, all of them negative. He wondered if Alsar-9 had done something to betray the alliance again and it was planning to take the Ancidium to a place where its creator could once more take control of the warship.

“What about the mission?” said Flint. “Are we to abort?”

“Negative, sir!” said Burner. “The mission is to proceed. We are to depart immediately!”

As Burner was speaking, the final door opened in the Ancidium’s outer hull.

Prepare for Gateway: 10s.

The way was clear to exit the warship and Flint didn’t hesitate. Whatever was going on, the time to think about it was later. For now, he couldn’t risk being trapped within the Ancidium.

With a bellow of overstressed ternium, the Gorgadar raced along the docking tunnel and out into space. Flint held the acceleration at maximum and counted down the last of those ten seconds in his head.

The dark sphere of the gateway appeared on the rear feeds. It enveloped the Ancidium for less than a second and then vanished, taking the huge warship away to a place unknown.

Flint didn’t relent and the Gorgadar’s velocity gauge climbed strongly. Its engines lacked the outright punch of an exium-boosted superstressed propulsion, but he had to remind himself the warship’s ternium was only in overstress. On that basis alone, the mastery achieved by the Lavorix was incredible.

“Should we test out the superstress, sir?” asked Eastwood.

Remembering his engine man’s reluctance from earlier was enough to give Flint pause.

“Hold that for the moment, Lieutenant,” he said. “Until we’ve had longer to monitor the hardware.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Our first priority is to contact the Ancidium,” said Flint. “And then locate the stasis sphere. The mission documentation indicated our arrival point was intended to be no more than fifty million kilometres from the former location of the Endurus.”

“Oh shit!” said Becerra.

Coinciding with her words was a sudden, enormous increase in the intensity of the death aura. Flint clamped his teeth together and groaned at the pain. His mind remained clear, as though it had coexisted with death tech for so long that it had learned a way to keep itself separate from the agony suffered by his body.

“The Endurus,” he said. “It’s here.”

Flint’s hand went towards the tactical display, intending to select a short-range transit destination. On one of the rear feeds, he saw a speck of grey – a seven-thousand-kilometre artifact from the universe’s history made tiny by the distance. The information overlay indicated the Endurus was hardly more than a million kilometres away – so close that escaping detection seemed an impossibility.

All at once, the Gorgadar’s propulsion went silent and every single gauge on Flint’s instrumentation panel fell to zero. The sensors could run from battery backups and would stay online for a while longer, but everything which tapped into the warship’s propulsion was unavailable.

After every past challenge which Flint and his crew had overcome, it seemed as though their deaths were on the verge of being accomplished without so much as a shot being fired.

Flint punched his console and swore. However, despite his anger, he was still rational. “Get those engines online!” he yelled.

“I’m trying, sir,” said Fredericks. He gave a shout of excitement. “Our exium modules are unaffected! I should be able to use them to kickstart the main propulsion!”

“Another spaceship appeared, sir!” said Garrett. “Right off our portside flank!”

Flint’s eyes jumped to the feed, where a spaceship was now within fifty kilometres, its velocity precisely matched with that of the coasting Gorgadar. The vessel was black like the darkest of nights and its hull possessed a peculiar shimmering quality, as if sheets of water were tumbling across its armour. The spaceship was huge – similar in size and mass to the Gorgadar, all lines and curves, but with no outward sign of weapons.

“Sir, the exium modules?” said Fredericks. “Should I use them to restart the propulsion?”

Flint opened his mouth. His eyes went back to the Endurus and then to the mysterious spaceship which had arrived from out of nowhere. The shape of this latter vessel was familiar and Flint knew where he’d seen the like before.

“Don’t restart the engines,” he said calmly. “Not until I give the order.”

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks.

The Endurus vanished from the rear feeds – back into lightspeed - and Flint expected the black spaceship to do likewise.

A message appeared on one of his console screens.

Balance is restored.

Then, the second spaceship disappeared. A moment later, the Gorgadar’s propulsion gave a single heaving shudder and rumbled into life.

“What just happened?” asked Maddox.

“I think we should have died there,” said Flint.

“But we didn’t,” said Larson.

Flint nodded in agreement. “Did you see the message? Balance is restored.”

“I didn’t see it,” said Larson.

The text hadn’t appeared on the other consoles either.

“When I was heading to the Gorgadar, I was given a warning that the Endurus was coming,” said Flint. He told the other crew members about the figure he’d seen on the Ancidium. “I think that second spaceship did something which helped us escape detection. Maybe it was responsible for activating the gateway as well – to get the Ancidium away in time.”

“It looked damned similar to the warship that put us in stasis when we were on the shuttle,” said Fredericks.

“Someone’s watching over us,” said Maddox. “If all of this is true, a species we’ve never encountered before has helped us three times now.”

“I think we’ve had our lot,” said Flint. “Balance is restored,” he repeated. “Something was out of kilter and now it’s back where it should be.”

“Meaning nothing’s changed for us,” said Burner. “We’re still facing the Endurus.”

“And we’re alive to do it, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

The universe was full of secrets and this was another. For once, it seemed like the alliance had – significantly but fleetingly – encountered a species which wasn’t hellbent on making everything extinct.

It would have been tremendous had this species injected a blueprint for an Endurus-destroying super-weapon into the Gorgadar’s databanks, but that would have been too easy. Besides, Flint wasn’t even sure if these new aliens had the capacity to defeat the Endurus.

As ever, he had many questions and few answers. The balance on those particular scales was never restored. Flint had long ago learned the futility of guessing, though it didn’t stop him trying.

For now, he had a mission, and it was time to get on with it.

Chapter Eight

“I’ve made contact with Admiral Recker, sir,” said Burner. “He’s on the comms.”

“Bring him onto the bridge speakers.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You got away just in time, sir,” said Flint.

“That’s what Lieutenant Burner told me,” said Recker. “The gateway took the Ancidium to a nowhere solar system, way out on the fringes of the star charts. I’m told one of those alien spaceships appeared again.”

“Yes, sir,” said Flint. He explained quickly, in case Burner had overlooked anything.

“So we’ve had our three wishes,” said Recker.

“That’s what I believe, sir.”

“It’s not as if we ever relied on anyone but ourselves before,” said Recker. “And I’m grateful for the assistance – damned grateful – but I can’t understand why—” He sighed and then swore. “I should stop worrying about it and be happy.”

“I’d like to say it’s easy said and done.”

Recker laughed. “The curse of an unsatisfied mind. Anyway, the Ancidium is now far away, thanks to our unknown friends.”

“Can you still feel the death aura?” asked Flint in curiosity.

“I’m not sure - maybe,” said Recker. “Certainly it’s not so bad as it was before.”

“The Endurus is following the Ancidium, sir.”

“Yes – it looks as if this warship is higher up the priority list than we first thought,” said Recker.

“What are your plans, sir?” asked Flint. The options were limited, but maybe Recker had come up with something viable.

“The plan is to use the gateway to stay one step ahead - until we can turn things around,” said Recker. “And right now, that last part falls to you, Captain Flint.”

Flint had a thought. “We don’t know how long it will take the Endurus to pinpoint the Ancidium’s location and follow – assuming it has that capability – but what if the enemy pursues for a time and then turns its attention elsewhere?”

“Because we failed to keep it interested?” said Recker.

“Yes, sir. Maybe.”

Recker fell silent for a few seconds and then he laughed. “This takes me back to the Galactar,” he said. “And now I have to do something even tougher, with an enemy that’s a hundred times meaner.”

“You’ve got to keep your nose in front, sir,” said Flint.

“We can’t afford to lose the Ancidium.” Recker laughed again, this time with real bitterness. “I accept what you said, Captain Flint – I can’t imagine the Endurus will pursue the Ancidium in perpetuity. If it can’t catch its prey, then it might go hunting for easier targets.”

“And then we might never find our enemy again until it’s too late,” said Flint.

“I’ll need to give this some thought,” said Recker. “In the meantime, you’re at the mission start point. What have you discovered?”

Becerra and Garrett had been working on the sensors during the conversation, and the results were on the feeds. The stasis sphere was easy enough to detect owing to the way it affected light travelling through it, and the extents of it were outlined in red. At the very centre of the sphere was the explosion of dust and particles resulting from the destruction of the rocks which had clad the Endurus, and the four moons which had been in orbit.

“We’ve identified the target location, sir,” said Flint. “So far we’ve made no progress towards it.”

“In that case, I won’t keep you,” said Recker. “Advise me as you progress.”

With that, he cut the channel.

“We’re forty-two million klicks from the outer edge of the stasis field, sir,” said Garrett. “And the radius of the field is four million klicks.”

“That’s a long way to travel while we’re creating a negation field,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Fredericks, will there be a limitation on our velocity while we’re creating that field?”

“I don’t think so, sir,” said Fredericks. “However, I’d suggest you start slow and that’ll give us time to monitor the readouts and see how everything is holding up.”

The Gorgadar was still coasting after its earlier acceleration out of the Ancidium’s Bay 6. It was time to put it to the test.

“Switch us into superstress, Lieutenant Fredericks,” said Flint, pushing the controls as far as they’d go. The engines roared and the velocity gauge surged upwards. “Let’s see if anything breaks.”

“Here we go,” said Fredericks. “Done.”

The effect was immediate – the volume levels increased to a level that was almost on the edge of tolerance and the velocity climbed from four thousand kilometres per second to six thousand in hardly any time. The needle kept on going, passing seven, eight and then nine thousand kilometres per second. As the velocity increased, the roar of the propulsion changed, becoming more of a metallic howl. It was the sound of technology in its purest form and a smile came to Flint’s face.

He glanced over and Larson was grinning.

“We didn’t take this warship beyond seven thousand klicks per second in the Lavorix wars!” she said, using the comms to be heard. “And now we’ve gone past ten thousand.”

“Seven thousand was a hard limit because so many of the Gorgadar’s ternium modules were being used as stabilisers for the superstress,” said Eastwood. “Imagine that! The Lavorix figured out a way to make that happen without exium! We never came close to touching on what this warship was capable of!”

“We blew lots of stuff to pieces and trapped the Ancidium in zero-time,” said Burner. “What else do you think we missed?”

The velocity gauge was still rising with undiminished vigour and Flint wondered exactly how much exium had been installed during the Gorgadar’s recent repairs.

This wasn’t the time for a full stress test and, at fourteen thousand kilometres per second, he backed off. The monitoring gauges told him everything was fine, but he remembered how quickly things went south on the Hades when he’d pushed too far.

Flint brought the warship to a halt. “Even at fourteen thousand klicks per second, it’ll take us nearly an hour to reach the edge of the stasis sphere. We’re going to scan from this distance for a couple of minutes and then we’ll approach by lightspeed to five million klicks. If it’s still clear, we’ll cover the remaining distance on our ternium drive and then enter the zero-time.”

The two minutes of scanning didn’t turn up any sign of hostiles.

“Does that confirm there are no active Kilvar outside the stasis sphere?” asked Flint.

“I can give you a ninety percent assurance of that, sir,” said Burner. “The Gorgadar’s sensors are good – better than anything we have on an alliance vessel, and they’re backed up by a huge number of processing cores.”

“Did we retrofit some of our oblex cores?” asked Flint.

“No, sir. The Gorgadar has a crapload of what I guess were the best processing units the Lavorix had available to them when it was built.”

Flint didn’t say anything for a few seconds, in case his sensor team came up with anything new at the last moment. They didn’t, so he gave the order to warm up the ternium drive.

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

“Still scanning,” said Burner. “No sign of anything.”

Flint drummed his fingers. The Kilvar fleet had suffered greatly during recent events, but he doubted they’d all been destroyed or caught in zero-time. He was sure that hundreds of their warships were operational, but he was less sure what purpose would now drive the Kilvar. Certainly they weren’t going to be friendly towards the alliance, even though the Endurus had seemingly screwed them over. If he encountered any Kilvar warships, Flint fully intended to blow them to pieces first and ask questions of the wreckage later.

“Ten seconds and we go!” shouted Fredericks.

The timer reached zero and the Gorgadar jumped forty-one million kilometres across space. Flint hardly felt the stacked transitions, except for a tingling in his fingers and toes. He requested maximum from the engines and the surge of acceleration pushed him into his seat.

“Sensors coming up!” said Burner.

The feeds appeared on the bulkhead screen and the only thing on them was darkness. Soon, the near and far scans were completed, revealing no immediate threats.

“You’ve got one last chance to scan the stasis sphere,” said Flint. “You’re looking for Kilvar capital ships frozen in zero-time, as well as active enemy vessels outside the sphere.”

He waited anxiously, though he tried to appear calm. The more Flint thought about it, the less likely it seemed that the Kilvar would have abandoned this place. This was an enemy with the technology to penetrate stasis fields, and he was sure they’d want to free their trapped spaceships.

As they scanned, Flint’s sensor team kept the bulkhead screens updated with the feeds they believed were most significant. On those feeds, Flint had his clearest view yet of the aftermath, albeit one frozen at the moment the Hades’s exium modules went critical.

Mostly the view was of grey dust, so thick in places that it hid sight of anything beyond. The particles had originated from many different sources and sometimes they merged, while in other places they were far apart. The closest comparison Flint could think of was paint splattered messily on black paper, but with infinitely more elements.

Somewhere inside those clouds, Flint was sure he’d find at least one surviving Shadow of Kilvus. Doubtless it would be royally pissed to find out what had transpired, and it would be even more pissed when it got hit by the Gorgadar’s extractor.

“There’re no visible enemy warships outside the zero-time, sir,” said Burner after a few minutes. “We’ve detected plenty within – a total of three hundred, most of them clustered in a way which makes me think they were part of the same Seeking.”

“It’s not the little ones I’m interested in, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “When we were on the Hades, we detected the arrival of a capital ship. That’s what we need to find.”

“Yes, sir,” said Burner. “Unfortunately, those location details are still on the Hades.”

“I thought you comms guys and gals had a memory for coordinates,” said Fredericks.

“We do,” said Burner. “I’ll be able to narrow it down, but there’s still going to be a large volume to search.”

“What about you, Lieutenant Becerra? Lieutenant Garrett?” asked Flint.

“Not a chance I can pinpoint a location in there, sir,” said Garrett. “Just like Lieutenant Burner, I’ll be able to narrow it down and that’s all.”

“Lieutenant Eastwood, how large a negation field can the Gorgadar safely create?” asked Flint.

“That’s unknown, sir,” said Eastwood. “But I’d say easily a thousand klicks radius, and probably way, way more than that.”

“Slow and steady might be the right approach, sir,” said Larson. “Even if the Ancidium is in danger.”

“Slow and steady it is, Commander,” said Flint. “I’ll take us to the edge of the sphere on our ternium drive and then we’ll begin the search. We can start small – with a limited-radius negation aura - and then increase the size of that aura as necessary.” He turned. “Lieutenants Burner, Garrett, Becerra – I want you to put your heads together and see if you can come up with a consensus about where we should begin our search. You have two minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” said Burner.

Flint waited. A red, computer-generated circle appeared on the zoomed-out feed of the distant stasis sphere. It was almost in the centre of the stasis and encompassed a lot of volume.

“That’s where we’re heading?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” said Burner. “We think the enemy capital ship might be within that highlighted area.”

“Assuming it didn’t accelerate from its arrival point,” said Becerra.

“Which it almost certainly did once its crew realised what a shitstorm they’d dropped into the middle of,” added Garrett.

“It’s a starting point,” said Flint. “This is what we have, so we’ll go with it.”

The Gorgadar’s nose was pointing near enough towards the centre of the stasis sphere and Flint didn’t have to make much of an adjustment to aim the warship at the area his comms team had identified as the place to search. Soon, the warship was heading towards it at high velocity.

“I’ll start us with a thousand-klick radius negation aura, sir,” said Eastwood. “That’ll give us a chance to monitor the stability of our exium modules and see how they’re coping with the draw. Then, once we reach the centre of the stasis, we can increase the radius if necessary.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Flint. “Create the aura immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Flint’s gaze dropped to his instrumentation panel. A couple of the needles flickered – almost imperceptibly – and then settled.

“No problems there,” said Flint.

“No, sir, everything’s looking fine.”

The distance to the stasis sphere tumbled and Flint reduced the Gorgadar’s velocity in preparation for the entry.

If everything held together, he planned to make a rapid approach to the centre of the sphere and then begin the search for one of the Kilvar capital ships. It would need to be careful work – if Flint misjudged, it was possible he might accidentally free a vessel from stasis and then the situation would become more complicated than it already was. At best, he’d pilot the Gorgadar away and the enemy ship would be returned to stasis. At worst, the Kilvar might react quickly enough to lightspeed out of the stasis sphere and escape.

The Gorgadar neared the edge of zero-time and Flint readied himself. Without drama, the warship entered the stasis field and he held it steady at two hundred kilometres per second. As the trapped light was freed by the negation aura, the sensor feeds updated, granting him a view of the expanding destruction as it had been several weeks ago when the Hades had first generated the stasis sphere.

It was strange to watch, knowing that the vast clouds of particles at the centre of the stasis had been frozen in place by technology developed by the alliance. Flint shivered at the thought – at how war had driven the requirement for progressively more dangerous and unpredictable weaponry.

“I wonder if we’d have ever discovered exium without everything that’s happened,” said Larson, evidently thinking along the same lines.

“I’d have said not a chance, until I met RL Moseley,” said Fredericks. “I bet he’s already working on a method of combining exium with other substances to create something even more potent and even less stable.”

Flint wouldn’t have bet against it. “Let’s keep focus,” he said.

“Everything’s looking good on the status monitors, sir,” said Fredericks. “Increasing our velocity shouldn’t cause a problem.”

“Otherwise it’ll be another five hours before we reach the centre,” added Burner.

“I get the message,” said Flint.

He increased the warship’s velocity, first to six hundred kilometres per second and then a minute later to two thousand kilometres per second. A couple of minutes after that, Flint increased the Gorgadar’s velocity to ten thousand kilometres per second and left it at that.

“Six-and-a-bit minutes to the centre,” said Burner.

The warship hurtled through the zero-time and Flint found himself mesmerised by the growing clouds of particles into which he was heading. They were thickest in the primary search area, since the Hades had been positioned between the Endurus and its moons when Flint had ordered the discharge of the decay pulse.

“It’s going to be tough finding anything in there,” said Larson.

“Yes,” said Flint. “Tougher still for Captain Vance if he has to deploy.”

“I think that’s unavoidable, sir,” said Larson. “The modified extractor has an incredibly narrow beam – it’s only about fifty metres wide – and it has a one-minute recharge timer. If we fired it randomly into a Kilvar warship that’s anything like the size of the Cadavax or the Vilekron, it might take weeks before we get lucky and score a hit. And that’s assuming there’s a Shadow of Kilvus onboard.”

“I know,” said Flint sourly. “I guess I’m out of practice dealing with any mission that requires patience.”

“That goes for all of us, I’m sure,” said Larson. “We’re always under pressure and that’s when we do our best.”

“And guaranteed when this is over and the Endurus is nothing more than a heap of wreckage drifting through space, we’ll all be complaining when we’re back on patrol missions,” said Flint with a laugh.

The conversation died off and the Gorgadar continued its journey through the stasis sphere, its engines a quiet hum as Flint allowed it to coast.

“One million klicks and we’ll enter the search area,” said Becerra.

Flint watched the distance counter. He intended to reduce velocity at the last moment and enter the search zone at a more sedate hundred kilometres per second. Already he’d planned out the pattern for his search. Rather than hoping to get lucky, he would start at the Hades and work his way outwards, until the Kilvar capital ship became visible. Inwardly, Flint cursed the dust for making his life that much harder.

“Half a million klicks,” said Becerra.

Flint held off a few seconds and then drew back on the controls. The propulsion rumbled as he reduced velocity to five thousand kilometres per second. Ahead, the dust thickened and swirled where the expanding clouds from different sources collided in a maelstrom of grey. In the middle of it all, was a source of the life energy required by the alliance to face the Endurus.

The distance fell and the Gorgadar entered the outer edges of the dust. Greyness speckled the feeds like static and the sensor team did what they could to maintain the feed quality. With each passing second, that quality lessened and it seemed to Flint that he was on the ocean, in a bank of the thickest fog.

Then, disaster struck in the most unforeseen of ways.

“Oh shit,” said Burner.

Even as he heard the words, Flint detected a subtle change on the sensors, though he wasn’t sure exactly what had happened.

“Sir, I think the stasis field has dropped!” Burner continued. “Correction: the stasis field has definitely dropped!”

Flint swore at the news. The most likely explanation was that the exium modules on the Hades had become depleted and no longer able to sustain the zero-time field. Now, everything was back in normal time, including what remained of the Kilvar fleet.

Slow and steady was no longer an option, and all control of the situation was gone. Flint cursed again.

Chapter Nine

Flint’s brain always seemed to respond best in the least favourable of circumstances. An idea came to him and it was filthy in its unfairness. The Kilvar deserved nothing but the best, so Flint gave the order without compunction.

“Fire the decay pulse,” he snarled.

“The decay pulse is online,” said Larson at once. “Firing.”

A thumping expulsion of energy swept outwards from the Gorgadar, creating a visible ripple in the enveloping dust, like a great gust of wind had blown through the clouds. Flint was expecting the pain and he grunted at the physical shock of the discharge.

On his monitoring panel, needles jumped and seemed reluctant to settle. A number of status indications of a type Flint didn’t recognize appeared on a separate screen, and he wasn’t sure if they were failure warnings or something else.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, please confirm our status,” said Flint.

“I’ve never seen anything like these readings before, sir,” said Fredericks. “They’re probably codes specific to a unique hardware module. I’m running an audit to find out what’s generated them. You’ll know as soon as I know.”

“Lieutenant Burner, create an overlay on the tactical,” said Flint, leaving Fredericks to it. “I want to know how much of the search area we just wiped out.”

Flint brought the Gorgadar to a crawl. The sensor range had been reduced further, as if the decay pulse had broken each dust particle into many, much smaller parts, which made the clouds harder to penetrate.

What if I’ve destroyed everything in my anger?

He couldn’t bring himself to believe that. The decay pulse was incredibly effective against physical matter, but the Shadows of Kilvus were something else. They would not be so easily unmade.

A sphere appeared on the tactical, showing Flint the assumed extents of the decay pulse. Were those assumptions accurate, the discharge overlapped a significant portion of the search area. Perhaps within the unaffected zone, an enemy capital ship was already recovering from the surprise of being freed from stasis, and preparing for an escape.

Cursing under his breath, Flint thrust the control bars along their guide slots and the Gorgadar accelerated savagely into the obscuring dust. The bombardment of particles activated the warship’s energy shield and an ovoid of rich blue formed around the hull.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, these status indications haven’t gone away.”

“They were generated by the Gorgadar’s destabiliser, sir,” said Fredericks. He sounded stressed as hell. “Neither Lieutenant Eastwood nor I have an idea what they mean or why they appeared.”

“Find out,” snapped Flint.

The mission hadn’t long started and already the temperamental nature of the hardware had raised its head, to add to everything else that was happening.

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ve entered the original search area, sir,” said Garrett. “Another eighty thousand klicks and we’ll be beyond the effect radius of the decay pulse.”

“I’d appreciate it if you could do something to improve our feed quality, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

“I’m about to apply some new lens filters, sir,” said Burner. “Done.”

Immediately, the visibility changed from terrible to merely awful. Flint guessed he could see a few thousand kilometres all around the Gorgadar. Doubtless his sensor officers had a few tricks that would allow them to detect objects further afield, and he needed them to be on their toes.

“We’re heading in too fast, sir,” said Larson.

Flint glanced at the velocity gauge. He’d allowed it to creep up further than intended, and he was in danger of racing through the search zone too quickly for his sensor team to complete anything like a meaningful scan.

“Reducing velocity,” he said in acknowledgement.

“Object detected off our starboard flank,” said Burner. “Distance: five thousand klicks. It’s on your tactical.”

“We’re within the sphere affected by the decay pulse,” said Flint, glancing at the red dot which had appeared on his tactical screen. “Is it a ghost or a confirmed sighting?”

“It’s not a ghost, sir,” said Burner. “Shit, it’s gone.”

Flint banked the Gorgadar to starboard. The dot on the tactical continued on the same vector, but an overlay indicated the battle computer was no longer receiving data on the enemy position. Hoping the target hadn’t altered course, Flint peered into the dust clouds on the forward feeds.

“Got it!” yelled Burner. “Distance: three thousand klicks and vector unchanged. Estimated mass – half a trillion tons. Sir, I think it’s drifting.”

“Ready on the weapons,” said Flint. A surge of adrenaline made his breathing deepen and his skin felt cold.

“Ready on the weapons,” Larson confirmed.

Flint’s instinct screamed at him to open fire – to unleash a torrent of missiles into what he felt sure was a crippled enemy warship. And yet, he held back, in case he was premature and ended up destroying a chance to recover what the mission had tasked him to find.

“Hold fire,” said Flint.

“Holding fire.”

A shape appeared, at first indistinct and then with gradually improving details. What had once been a Kilvar vessel was drifting through space at a low velocity, leaving an immense trail of particles as it went.

The decay pulse had left the spaceship in a bad way, stripping away its armour plating and much of the ternium underneath. What remained was a fifteen-thousand-metre lump of decaying matter, its original form completely altered so that Flint couldn’t begin to guess how it had once appeared. As he watched, five hundred metres of the vessel’s stern snapped free. In moments, the separated piece broke into two and then again.

“There it is - what we came here for,” said Flint, hardly able to believe his luck.

“Should I advise Captain Vance to prepare for a deployment, sir?” asked Becerra.

“Please do,” said Flint. “If it happens, it’ll be from Shuttle Bay 1.”

“Captain Vance and his platoon are ten minutes from that location, sir.”

“That’s fine,” said Flint. “I’m not giving the order yet.”

There was a problem which he had yet to openly acknowledge. The original plan had been made with the assumption that Vance would be deployed on a vessel trapped in zero-time. He and his platoon would bring an oblex core with them, which would create a limited negation field to allow the soldiers to progress in – comparative – safety as they explored the warship onto which they’d deployed.

With the target vessel no longer in zero-time, the initial plan might no longer be workable and that was going to be a real headache for everyone on this mission.

Hoping to be struck by a lightning bolt of inspiration, Flint guided the Gorgadar closer to the wreckage, and then matched velocity at a distance of fifty kilometres – almost within touching distance, given the sizes of the two spaceships.

“Is it going to continue breaking up until there’s nothing left?” he wondered.

“At some point, the disintegration has to stop,” said Larson.

Flint stared, hoping for some new insight as to what he should do. He felt certain one of the Shadows of Kilvus was within the wreckage, but he was reluctant to order a deployment until he was sure the enemy ship wasn’t about to break into a hundred thousand pieces. Flint doubted that would harm his enemy, but it would make life tough for Captain Vance.

“What’s the chance that wreckage still has active comms?” asked Flint.

“Slim to none, sir,” said Burner. “However, it’s likely that the other Kilvar warships in the vicinity knew of its position before we fired the decay pulse.”

“That’s what I thought too,” said Flint. He had a wicked thought and checked the status of the decay pulse. It was offline.

Damn.

“Will we be able to fire the decay pulse again?” he asked.

“Checking…,” said Eastwood. “It appears the hardware has gone into self-protect mode, but there’s no indication that it’s failed. We might get another shot out of it, but I can’t tell you when.”

“Had you thought to draw in the rest of the Kilvar fleet and give them a taste, sir?” asked Larson.

“Maybe,” said Flint. He pointed at the drifting wreckage. “It would have been tempting, but I don’t know if I’d have risked destroying our one confirmed target. I don’t know what will happen to the Shadow of Kilvus once its ship has completely disintegrated. What if it’s invisible to our sensors and has a means to propel itself through space?”

“And what if it ends up on the Gorgadar?” said Larson. “We can’t target the extractor at anything inside our own warship.”

“Without functioning sensors, anything Kilvar left on that wreckage won’t know we’re here,” said Flint, chewing his lip in thought.

“And that might not change even if other Kilvar spaceships come sniffing around,” said Larson.

Flint shook his head uncertainly. “I’m not convinced the enemy rely solely on comms in the way we know them.”

“You’re talking yourself into something, sir,” said Larson. “I’m just not sure what it is.”

“I can’t see how a deployment is going to work,” he said.

And then, right at that moment, he thought of a way - even if it wasn’t a method he was entirely comfortable with.

“We’ll have to create our own zero-time field,” he said reluctantly. “One that encompasses the enemy warship.”

From the look of resignation on her face, Larson didn’t much like the plan either. “And rig up a method to keep the Gorgadar in normal time.”

Flint turned. “Lieutenants Fredericks and Eastwood. This sounds like something you can figure out.”

“I know the way already, sir,” said Fredericks. “We’ve done similar before.”

“Remind me.”

“We’ll instruct the majority of our exium modules to create a large sphere of stasis. At the same time, we’ll instruct the remaining modules to generate a smaller area of stasis negation. The space around both the Gorgadar and the enemy vessel will be trapped in zero-time, while a smaller interior sphere of negation will allow our own warship to operate in normal time.”

“Make the preparations,” said Flint, trying not to think too hard about this manipulation of half-understood cosmic forces. Part of him wished he lived a peaceful life in the mountains somewhere – in a place where nobody had heard of exium, and where he could live out the rest of his days in blissful ignorance, fishing or sleeping the afternoons away in a hammock.

It was not to be.

“The stasis and negation will be ready to activate in about a minute, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’ll set the zero-time radius at a thousand klicks and the negation radius at twenty klicks.”

“And I worked out what those readings were from the destabiliser, sir,” said Eastwood. “Putting the Gorgadar into superstress caused a routing issue with some of the exium supply, which in fed into the—”

“Is it fixed?” Flint interrupted.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good work, Lieutenant.”

A different problem remained to be solved.

“If the deployment is to happen, we need a way inside that enemy vessel,” said Flint. “Preferably one that doesn’t involve missiles.”

“I’ve been scanning, sir,” said Garrett. “I’ve detected two openings in the Kilvar ship’s visible flank – they might have been docking tunnels for larger transports.”

“Show me,” said Flint.

A zoomed, enhanced feed appeared on the bulkhead screen and he squinted at two darker patches on what was left of the target vessel’s hull.

“If you repositioned, I might be able to confirm how far those openings go, sir,” said Garrett.

“Let’s do that,” said Flint.

A few seconds later, he’d brought one of the Gorgadar’s portside arrays directly opposite the forwardmost opening in the enemy vessel.

“That’ll do nicely, sir,” said Garrett. “Let’s check this out.”

The sensor array had a perfect view all the way along the opening and Flint stared at the feed. “It looks more or less intact in there,” he said.

“It’ll need to be, since Captain Vance will be relying on the oblex core breaking into an operational security system in order to open the internal doors,” said Larson. “There’s a cutting laser on the deployment shuttle, but using it to get through every single door will take time.”

“The Kilvar can survive in a vacuum,” said Flint. “We’re hoping their spaceships won’t have as many internal partitions as ours.”

“Hope seems to be the word which unites every one of our missions,” said Maddox.

“So it is, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Yet we keep making things happen.” He went quiet, though his eyes stayed on the feed. “We won’t have a better chance than this. Lieutenant Becerra – make Captain Vance aware that the deployment is a go.”

“Yes, sir.” Becerra was quiet for a moment. “He’ll be ready to depart in less than two minutes.”

“Make sure he holds for the order.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re ready to create the stasis and the negation fields, sir,” said Fredericks a short while after.

“Go ahead,” said Flint.

He watched the instrumentation. Again, needles wobbled and that was the only indication of the vastly increased power draw. Flint was starting to believe the Gorgadar had been packed with a greater quantity of exium than any other vessel he’d commanded, and he wished for a chance to study the design alterations the warship had been subjected to. Maybe he’d have a better idea of what he had at his disposal.

Casting his mind briefly back, Flint remembered a discussion – prior to the ascendancy - with Admiral Recker, in which the latter vaguely referred to his plans for the Laws of Ancidium. Flint wondered exactly what those plans would have entailed, and if the Gorgadar had been loaded with exium for a specific purpose.

It wasn’t a good time for distractions and Flint dragged himself to the present. The Gorgadar’s monitoring tools still reported no potential issues. On the surface, everything was rock solid.

“Is Captain Vance ready to go?” asked Flint.

“Yes, sir,” said Becerra. “He’s in position.”

“He’s an old hand at this,” said Flint. “I won’t ask if he knows what’s expected.” He took a breath. “It’s time for Captain Vance to be on his way. Wish him luck.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell him to stay away from any suspicious-looking alien transportation networks,” said Flint, remembering Vance’s recent pursuit of Galtivon through the Balon gateways.

“Yes, sir. Captain Vance says he can’t make any promises.”

The launch light for Shuttle Bay 1 turned green and, a few seconds later, the transport emerged into space. Onboard, an oblex core was creating its own negation field, which would allow the vessel to proceed through the stasis sphere generated by the Gorgadar.

Flint knew the coming minutes or hours would test his patience to the limit. He steadied his breathing and awaited developments.

Chapter Ten

Captain James Vance peered at a sensor feed which was of little more than dust and darkness, and held the transport on course. The hulking wreckage of the Kilvar vessel was a shadow beyond, a dark upon the dark, and a place of secrets Vance hardly wished to learn.

He and his platoon had been given another doozy of a mission – not that he was bitter about it. Some things were best trusted to those with the experience and this was one of them.

“Even when the Kilvar are defeated, it feels as though our fates are intertwined,” said Lieutenant Krast Tagra philosophically.

“Better the enemy you know,” said Vance. He gave a gruff laugh. “Though if I never saw another Kilvar again, it would be too soon.”

“I’m ready for a time where there is no war,” said Tagra.

For some reason, the words reminded Vance of another officer – one he’d served with a lifetime ago. Sergeant Indico Shadar had wanted out after the defeat of the Lavorix – to spend time with his wife and to raise a family. That same opportunity had been offered to Vance and he’d turned it down. What an ass he’d been.

An unexpected lump came to Vance’s throat. “I’m ready for it too,” he said.

“You were ready a long time ago, Captain Vance,” said Tagra. The Daklan nodded to himself. “But I am glad you made the wrong decision.”

“One more mission,” said Sergeant Charnos, sitting in the last of the three cabin seats. He laughed harshly. “And one more after that, until the numbers lose meaning.”

“I never look too far into the future,” said Vance. “I’ve always got plenty of shit on my plate in the present, let alone trying to guess what’s coming for dessert.”

The three soldiers fell quiet and Vance listened to the dull rumble of the shuttle’s engines. His brain wouldn’t stop turning and he suddenly understood exactly what a miracle it was that his wife hadn’t taken their two children and found someone else.

Shit. I can’t be thinking about this now. Vance gritted his teeth. Except there never seems to be a right time for it.

“There is the opening,” said Tagra. “Ten kilometres ahead.”

Vance snapped himself out of it and focused on the sensor feed. The dust seemed thicker than only moments ago, and the entrance to the enemy spaceship was almost completely obscured.

“Holding steady,” muttered Vance.

The dust thinned, albeit only for a moment, granting a much clearer view of the opening. As far as docking tunnels went, this one was huge, and obviously intended for vessels much larger than the transport.

“Five kilometres,” said Tagra.

Vance made a tiny adjustment to the shuttle’s heading, his grip tight on the control joysticks. The distance fell, but few additional details were revealed, as if the transport was simply coming ever closer to a huge wall of the darkest grey.

“Lieutenant Becerra says there’s nothing docked,” said Vance, repeating what he’d already told his crew. “And she believes there’s a platform we can set down on.” He laughed sourly. “And get this – we’re about to be the first members of the alliance to set foot on a Kilvar capital warship.”

“I intend to defecate on the bridge of this enemy vessel,” said Charnos.

Vance looked sideways at the Daklan. It wasn’t always easy to tell if he was being serious or not. Doubtless Charnos would see sense when he realised what would happen if he opened his combat suit in a vacuum to take a dump on the captain’s chair. Maybe the infamy would make it all worthwhile.

“One kilometre,” said Tagra.

While much of the enemy warship had been disintegrated by the decay pulse, it was vast in comparison to the shuttle. The range was now low enough that the irregularities in the Kilvar vessel’s hull were apparent. To Vance, it seemed as if huge sections had simply crumbled, while other areas were comparatively unaffected. Those areas which had suffered the least were still extensively pitted and particles continued to break away.

There was no doubt about it – the target vessel was a mess, and Vance wondered if the interior was affected in the same way. It was an important consideration, which might well affect how the mission proceeded.

“In we go,” said Vance, guiding the shuttle into the opening.

The tunnel was square and the walls within were also pitted, but noticeably less so than outside. Two thousand metres ahead, Vance could make out the docking platform, which was no more elaborate than a four-hundred-metre slab of alloy jutting from the right-hand wall.

“Nothing parked,” said Tagra.

“And no sign of Kilvar troops,” added Charnos.

“Plenty of time for those bastards to show up,” said Vance.

He piloted the shuttle directly over the platform and held the transport stationary for a moment. The surface below was more heavily pocked than he’d realised.

“Looks safe,” said Tagra.

“Safe, my ass,” said Vance, setting the transport into a hover. “Anyway, let’s find the bay exit door. I’d rather be as near as possible to the way in and out, in case this all comes crashing down.”

“I have located the place,” said Charnos. “Midway along the wall.”

“I see it,” said Vance. “Seems to be open.”

“Perhaps the enemy became careless with security when their vessel was disintegrated,” said Charnos.

“Let’s find out,” said Vance.

As ever, time was precious, but not so precious that he was prepared to dump the shuttle heavily onto the docking platform. With great care, Vance brought the transport lower until it was only a half-metre above the surface. Then, he switched on the autopilot and let the computers deal with keeping the shuttle in place.

“Time to go,” said Vance.

An adapted weapons rack had been bolted to the rear bulkhead, and it held three full-sized Balon hand cannons – a gun which had proven gratifyingly effective against the Kilvar shock troops. With a grunt of effort, Vance lifted one of the cannons and slung it over his shoulder using the reinforced strap which one of the weapons teams on the Ancidium had fitted. The weight of the gun tugged at his balance, but he felt better knowing it was there.

Down the stairs he went, and into the passenger bay where the rest of his platoon was already waiting in the airlock, along with Oblex#75. Twenty soldiers was all Vance would need for this mission – any more would be a crowd.

The Daklan soldiers carried full-sized Balon cannons – copied by the Ancidium from the examples Vance and his platoon had recovered on the previous mission - while most of the human soldiers carried cut-down versions that lacked some of the firepower, but which Vance was sure would still give the Kilvar something to think about.

“Move!” yelled Vance on the comms.

“Opening the airlock,” said Drawl. “Overriding the inner door.”

With both airlock doors open, the atmosphere within the shuttle was sucked out in a hollow droning of fast-moving air. The soldiers sprinted down the exit ramp and Vance followed them outside.

“Another day, another mission into zero-time,” said Private Ossie Carrington.

Vance slowed for only a moment as he descended the shuttle’s exit ramp. The docking space was enormous, but nothing much different to what he was used to. It was dark and cold also, and with no atmosphere.

“The Kilvar called this place home,” said Steigers in mock sorrow. “Until the bad guy alliance came and knocked it all down.”

Jumping from the end of the ramp, Vance felt a soft crunching beneath his feet, as if the surface wasn’t entirely solid. He scraped the sole of his boot hard against the metal and saw that it left a visible furrow. Wondering if the alloy was still crumbling, Vance rubbed it with his boot a few extra times. The furrow didn’t get any deeper.

“What about the laser cutter, Captain Vance?” asked Tagra. “Should we bring it with us?”

Vance didn’t want the extra baggage, but he also didn’t want to run into a closed door that the oblex core wouldn’t open.

“Bring it,” said Vance. “You look after it, Lieutenant Tagra.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Several members of the platoon were already at the bay exit – this being a doorway about three metres by four. Private Ken Raimi had his rocket tube aimed into the darkness, as if he expected a Kilvar soldier to come hurtling out of zero-time at any moment.

“Remember, the range on the negation field is only twenty-five metres from the oblex core,” said Vance. “Don’t go wandering off and getting yourselves trapped, or I might decide to leave you here.”

“I always wanted to live forever,” said Drawl.

“Raven could join you in eternal stasis,” offered Steigers.

“Drawl and Raven - two loved-up flies, frozen in amber,” said Carrington. “It’d be so romantic.”

“Hey, cut that out!” said Raven.

“Yes, cut it out,” growled Vance. He strode past the oblex core to the exit. A corridor went left and it was wide enough to accommodate four Kilvar shock troops walking arm-in-arm.

Or something bigger, thought Vance.

So absolute was the darkness that he turned on his helmet torch. The beam was sickly and pallid, and it illuminated the countless motes of dust which drifted gently in the faint current of air which had escaped the shuttle. Exactly twenty-five metres from the oblex core, the beam stopped, as if it were shining against a solid wall.

“Shit,” said Vance. “We might have problem. This place is so dark, there’s no frozen light to give us a snapshot of what’s trapped in stasis beyond our negation field.”

“That’s a big problem,” said Lieutenant Gantry.

Vance had been relying on having advance notice of where the Kilvar occupants of this spaceship had been frozen, on order that he could make tactical decisions on which to shoot and which to avoid.

“I’ve got an idea, sir,” said Drawl.

The soldier had been having a few of them lately, and not all bad. Perhaps it was finally time to consider the man for a promotion.

“Fire away,” said Vance.

“If we programmed the oblex core to generate a larger-radius negation field for a split second, while we had our helmet flashlights switched on, the light would travel into the expanded area of normal time. Then, the zero-time would resume beyond the usual twenty-five-metre radius, trapping the light and allowing us to see whatever Kilvar we’d illuminated.” Drawl grinned. “Easy.”

Vance experienced one of those moments, where he felt dislocated from reality, as if he were in a most terrible dream from which he had no hope of waking until the depths of his mind had played out every grisly detail.

“Let’s do it,” he said.

“I can instruct the core to create a larger pulse every ten seconds, sir,” said Gantry. “How about a fifty-metre radius?”

“That sounds good, Lieutenant,” said Vance. “Make it so we can adjust the interval quickly if we need to.”

“Yes, sir. Give me a moment and I’ll set things up.”

“Corporal Charnos, place a comms relay somewhere in this bay,” said Vance, while he waited. “And then deploy them as you see fit.”

“I have already placed a relay, Captain,” said Charnos. He pointed at an unobtrusive rectangular object stuck to the wall near ground level. “When Captain Flint chooses to bring this Kilvar wreck out of stasis, I will ensure there is a clear comms path to the extractor beacon.”

Private Rendos was carrying that beacon in a pack on his back. When the beacon was deployed, the comms relays would transmit the device’s precise location to the Gorgadar, at which point Flint would fire the extractor and suck all the stolen life force out of whichever Kilvar lord was onboard this warship.

The thought of discharging a vile weapon like the extractor at something equally vile like a Shadow of Kilvus and then using the extracted energy against the Endurus should have given Vance at least a hint of satisfaction, but he couldn’t muster a great deal of enthusiasm for anything that had its origins in mass murder.

He gave his attention to the laser cutter. The side cargo door of the shuttle was open and a grey alloy turret floated down onto the docking platform.

“It looks like a new design,” said Vance, narrowing his eyes.

The angled base of the cutter was familiar, being little more than a two-metre trapezoid, but the metre-long barrel of the laser had a significantly larger bore than usual, at about half a metre.

“It does look unusual,” confirmed Tagra. “I will use my interface to check if it is an updated model.”

“The oblex core is ready to activate the larger-radius pulses, sir,” said Gantry. “On your command.”

“Will it fire a pulse immediately or after ten seconds?”

“Immediately, sir.”

Vance gave out some instructions to his platoon and every soldier switched on their helmet light.

“Lieutenant Tagra, we’re ready to go.”

“This laser cutter has an exium power booster,” said Tagra.

“Well, shit,” said Vance. “Who thought of doing that?”

“Soon we will be wearing exium-powered combat suits, firing exium-charged gauss rifles and shitting into toilets with an exium flush,” said Tagra.

“Roll on the day,” said Vance, already hoping he wouldn’t have cause to use the cutting laser. It was time to get on. “Squad A with me,” he said.

He exited the bay and moved into the passage, along with Drawl, Raven, Steigers and Londivir. The five of them shone their flashlights towards the curving wall of darkness, which was no more than ten metres away.

“Lieutenant Gantry, activate the extended pulses.”

“Yes, sir.”

Immediately, the light beams travelled much further along the corridor. In less than half a second, the area of extended stasis was ended, leaving the light trapped. Within the negation sphere, the flashlight beams now moved completely separately, as if they’d been severed partway along.

“Clear to fifty metres,” said Vance.

At the end of those fifty metres, the darkness was a solid, impenetrable wall. Vance and his platoon headed along the passage and Gantry made sure the oblex core kept pace.

Ten seconds after the first extended negation pulse, Oblex#75 created a second. Once more, the light beams travelled much further ahead, before being cut off and frozen in place. Just like the first time, the way was clear.

Vance didn’t expect the situation to last. He advanced along the passage again, heading deeper into the Kilvar warship.

Chapter Eleven

The passage continued for three hundred metres and ended at an intersection. Already, Vance was comfortable with the method of using two different-sized negation spheres. In fact, he was becoming impatient at the ten-second intervals, since that limited his movement to only twenty-five metres for each pulse. He considered asking Gantry to reduce the interval to eight seconds, or to increase the radius to sixty metres.

Vance had survived for so long because he knew when to rein in his impatience, and he did so now, though with some reluctance.

“I hope the Kilvar build their spaceships like we do – with hardly any room for personnel,” said Steigers. “Otherwise it’ll take us a week to explore this place.”

“We might get lucky,” said Raven. She pointed left. “The Shadow of Assface could be right along that way.”

Vance smiled. “Left it is, then.”

The soldiers were ready when the oblex core fired its next negation pulse, and the light from their torches became frozen to a distance of fifty metres.

“Zero Shadows of Assface,” said Drawl. “An empty corridor.”

Vance headed left, measuring his pace so that he’d be near the extreme edge of the negation sphere when the oblex core fired its next extended pulse. The pulse came and went and again the corridor was empty to fifty metres ahead.

“Maybe the place is empty,” said Raven.

The Kilvar warship certainly had a feeling of desolation. Vance had been on deserted planets before that had a greater sense of life about them.

“It’s not empty,” said Vance. “We just haven’t looked in the right places yet.”

“The Kilvar don’t strike me as the socialising types,” said Drawl. “I can’t picture them talking bullshit around a replicator.”

“Yeah, they probably all go into storage or something,” said Raven. “And when it’s time, they get loaded onto a transport and go running off with a hard-on for anything that’s got a bit of life energy in it.”

“I wish you hadn’t put that image in my head,” said Steigers.

Vance let the soldiers talk, since they were clearly still focused on the task in hand. What they’d said had him thinking. While he wasn’t planning to write a thesis on the Kilvar, Vance was vaguely interested to find out more about what the aliens did in the times when they weren’t being a pain in his ass. It didn’t seem likely they had much to chat about other than their ascendancy – and even that probably wasn’t interesting after a few centuries.

A right-hand turning became visible at fifty metres, while the main passage continued straight on. Vance didn’t have the homing instincts that would take someone like Captain Flint directly to the bridge, but he’d been on his fair share of warships.

“That’s our way up ahead,” he said, increasing his pace. The oblex core followed, negating the zero-time as it went.

Halting at the turning, Vance’s squad aimed their helmet flashlights into the darkness along this new corridor, while the rest of the platoon shone theirs straight-ahead. The oblex core fired its larger pulse.

“Looks like a room this way,” said Vance.

The passage opened into a larger space, but that was as much as he could see. Setting off, Vance felt the prickling of anticipation which usually came when danger was close.

“Careful,” he warned.

“Something up, sir?” asked Raven.

“Maybe,” said Vance.

He strode along the passage and halted five metres from the opening to the room and not far from where the frozen illumination ended. Vance sensed he was looking into an expansive space, even though he couldn’t see anything through the zero-time. He glanced left, where Drawl stood near the wall. From the wideness of the soldier’s eyes it was clear he was feeling the same as Vance.

“Get ready,” said Vance, preparing himself for the next negation pulse.

The pulse fired and the platoon’s flashlights revealed twenty-five metres of the room.

“Ah, shit,” spat Vance.

Less than ten metres from the door, the rows of Kilvar shock troops began. The enemy soldiers all faced left – towards the portside of the vessel – and they were packed in so tightly that each was pressed up against the one in front, and they were standing shoulder-to-shoulder with those adjacent.

Vance stared in revulsion at the creatures before him. Each was dressed in tattered rags of many drab hues and they wore boots of different types. Once again, Vance asked himself if these had once been civilians on a peaceful world, killed and brought back as these monstrosities. Or, maybe, they’d been willing converts to the cause.

It was much too late to care.

“I can’t see the far wall of the room, sir,” said Drawl, jumping a couple of times to try and see over the heads of the enemy. “There must be thousands of these bastards.”

“Maybe tens of thousands,” said Vance. “Private Londivir – you’ve got a couple of feet on Drawl – is the far side of the wall visible?”

The Daklan was pushing eight feet, while the Kilvar brutes were almost uniformly nine feet. With a standing jump, Londivir looked across the room.

“The opposite side is hidden in zero-time, Captain Vance.”

Vance swore again. “I thought we’d had it too easy.”

Another pulse fired and not one of the Kilvar moved so much as a millimetre.

“At least none of them seem to have noticed us, sir,” said Steigers.

“I’m not sure they had time to give us a wave, Private,” said Vance, unsure if the negation period was enough for the enemy to react.

“So this is where the cool Kilvar hang out,” said Raven.

“Looks like,” said Vance. He took a few paces towards the room, giving a hand signal so that Gantry would know he wanted the oblex core to keep pace.

A new pulse fired, extending another eight or so metres into the room. The Kilvar stayed exactly where they were. Vance considered the possibilities.

“We could turn around and go the other way, sir,” said Steigers.

“We could do that,” Vance agreed. “However, I’m in a contrary mood today.” He pointed across the room. “And I’m certain the bridge is that way.”

“The Captain’s turning into flyboy as he gets closer to retirement,” said Raven. “He’s going to close his eyes and tap dance all the way to the bridge.”

“I might just do that,” said Vance. He bared his teeth, wondering if his anger at the sight of all these Kilvar was clouding his judgement. “Lieutenant Gantry?” he shouted.

“Sir?”

“Did anyone show you how to get that oblex core speaking to a laser cutter?”

“Not specifically that, sir, but I should be able to get them talking.”

“And we’re going to need some bigger negation pulses.”

“No problem, sir.”

Vance outlined his plan and less than five minutes later, Gantry declared everything was ready.

“Interface with the laser cutter, sir,” Gantry said. “Send it the instruction to discharge and the oblex core will handle the details over its data link.”

Connecting to the laser cutter took only a moment and Vance ordered the device to the threshold of the room. Now that he was close, he could hear it humming quietly. The barrel was horizontal to the floor and at about shoulder height.

“Do it, sir,” said Raven.

Vance sent the command. As soon as he did so, the oblex core generated a two-hundred-metre negation sphere. At the exact same moment, the laser cutter sent out a half-meter beam of intense red energy. That beam sliced clean through the ranks of Kilvar soldiers and then cut out.

“Not bad,” said Steigers, surveying the carnage.

A half-metre hole had been cut all the way through one row of the enemy troops. The resumption of zero-time had come so rapidly that the body parts hadn’t even begun falling to the floor.

“A little more to the left, I’d say,” said Raven.

“I have to be sure the negation field was large enough to reach the far wall,” said Vance. He crouched and peered through the hole he’d just made in the Kilvar troops. Some of the laser’s light had been trapped in zero-time and it was just enough for him to make out the darkness of alloy far away. “Just enough, I reckon.”

Vance ordered the cutter a little way towards the left-hand wall of the passage. He sent the activation command again. The oblex core extended the zero-time field, the laser fired, and a second hole was cut through the Kilvar.

“That’s going to hurt in the morning,” said Steigers, nodding sagely.

Repositioning the cutter, Vance once again ordered it to fire. A new hole appeared in the Kilvar troops.

“This is taking too long,” he said.

“I’m not sure I want the fun to stop, sir,” said Raven.

Vance paused and spoke briefly to Gantry. Modifications were made.

“Stand back,” said Vance, waving his squad deeper into the passage.

He placed the cutter in the centre of the passage and aimed its beam at an oblique towards the far-left wall of the room.

“Ready,” said Vance.

This time, when he gave the order, the oblex core maintained the negation field for the five seconds it took the laser cutter to rotate from the left, all the way to the right, with its beam active.

“Right out of the textbook,” said Drawl approvingly.

The laser had mown down the Kilvar like they were a field of diseased wheat, severing them through their lower torsos. The five-second negation field had been enough for the body parts to start tumbling and for the smoke to rise.

“That’s going to stink, sir,” said Raven accusingly.

“And it’s going to muddy up your bright new combat boots as well, soldier,” said Vance.

In truth, he was now having second thoughts about the wisdom of proceeding through the room. Once he brought the oblex core closer, then the zero-time body parts would complete their fall to the floor, but it was going to be a hell of a job crossing the room.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be.

Vance recalled one of Drawl’s previous good ideas, from when the platoon had been trapped at the bottom of the shaft on planet Virix. Back then, the soldier had suggested they all fly to the surface on the back of an oblex core. If a plan was good then, it was good now.

“Climb up on that core,” said Vance. “As many of you as will fit.”

He sized up the laser cutter. Its sides were steeply sloped, but the barrel made a good place to hold and a combat boot didn’t slip easily. “And some others of you onto the cutter.”

Vance jumped up and grabbed the barrel of the cutter. His boots squealed as they found purchase, but it wasn’t too hard to stay on, even with the weight of the Balon cannon dragging him down.

“This is going to take two trips, sir,” said Lieutenant Gantry.

“Yes it is,” said Vance, waiting to see who would point out the elephant in the room.

Drawl obliged. “Won’t that mean one group of us will be stuck in zero-time while the rest of us are travelling across the room?”

“That’s right, soldier.” Vance sighed and came clean. “When I saw those Kilvar, I wanted to cut them down. Now they’re in pieces, I feel like the plan is getting away from me. I’m convinced the bridge is over that way, but there’s nothing stopping us going back and finding another route.”

Vance didn’t usually command by a show of hands and he wasn’t exactly putting it to the vote here. He watched closely, to gauge the mood of the soldiers.

“It’ll be something to tell the grandchildren,” said Raimi with a shrug. “I’ve got plenty of tales already lined up, but having a few extra won’t do any harm.”

“What if a few of those body parts start flopping about when they’re back in normal time?” asked Raven. “I don’t want a Kilvar hand jumping up and grabbing my ass.”

“It’s a five-metre ceiling,” said Vance. “We’ll fly high enough that any Kilvar hand wanting to grab your ass will have to leap like a bionic salmon.”

“Consider me reassured, sir,” said Raven.

Arrangements took only a minute. When they were done, five members of the platoon were sitting on the oblex core and five others were clinging to the laser.

“Let’s go,” said Vance.

He controlled both the core and the laser cutter, keeping the latter a few metres ahead of the former. Vance held on tightly as he and half of his platoon sailed into the room. The first ranks of Kilvar were brought into the twenty-five-metre negation field. Filthy smoke rose and the body parts thumped down heavily two metres below.

“That stinks!” said Steigers, coughing as he breathed in the odour of laser burned Kilvar.

“How’s your ass, Private Raven?” asked Vance.

“Nothing grabbed it yet, sir.”

Vance twisted awkwardly to obtain a better view of the floor beneath. It took a lot of gauss bullets to bring down a Kilvar shock trooper, but a half-metre cutting laser appeared to have done a comprehensive job on them. Nothing stirred and – even better – no dead-faces grinned in Vance’s direction.

At the far side of the room, he brought the two devices to the floor, having ascertained that nothing hostile was nearby in the exit passage. The soldiers jumped off. Vance didn’t give them time to think about what was about to happen and he sent the cutter and the core straight back over the room.

“Welcome to zero-time,” said Steigers as the core approached a twenty-five-metre distance.

Vance felt nothing. The next thing he knew, the oblex core and the laser cutter were heading towards him, now loaded up with the last ten members of his platoon.

“Easy,” said Gantry, dropping from the edge of the core. “A bit cold sitting on this core, but I’ve suffered worse.”

“The Captain promised us a short stroll to the bridge from here,” said Carrington, peering along the exit corridor. “Said he’d eat a pair of Kilvar pants if he was wrong.”

Vance didn’t recall saying any such thing and he told Carrington as much, along with an additional suggestion that she might enjoy point duty for the foreseeable future. With that matter settled, Vance led his platoon away from the room. The stench lingered in his nostrils, but that would fade in time.

The memories of cutting down thousands of helpless Kilvar troops with a laser would last much, much longer.

Chapter Twelve

Less than ten minutes after exiting the Kilvar storage room, and having encountered no more of the enemy, Vance found himself standing at the bottom of wide steps, which climbed upwards through the right-hand wall. The main passage continued onwards, as dark as everywhere else.

Here, the stench of burned corpses was gone, but the air had a rottenness to it which had Vance wrinkling his nose. Out of curiosity, he tapped his knuckles against the nearby wall. It felt utterly solid, as it did underfoot. Perhaps this area of the warship was unaffected by the decay pulse, or perhaps flesh and bone just wasn’t hard enough to make a mark.

“Looks like we found the bridge,” said Carrington innocently.

Vance had his flashlight aimed into the stairwell and, when the fifty-metre negation pulse fired, he was granted sight of a creature on a landing, twenty metres up.

“Door staff?” said Steigers.

“Whatever it is, it’s standing in our way,” said Vance.

The creature was grey like every other Kilvar, bipedal, more than three metres tall, and about two metres across the shoulders. Its muscular limbs almost filled the space and Vance didn’t much like the look of the curved talons at the end of its fingers.

“I think it likes you, sir,” said Raven. “It’s grinning.”

Vance curled his lip. The alien’s face was almost identical to that of the standard nine-foot Kilvar bruisers, with the same empty eye sockets and missing nose. As if it had anticipated Vance’s arrival before it was put in zero-time, this one had its oversized mouth wide open, and the brown-yellow colour of its humanlike teeth indicated a lack of recent dental attention.

“Nothing a laser shot in the balls won’t take care of,” said Drawl.

Vance was tempted. Very tempted. On the other hand, he didn’t know what lay on the far side of the bridge door just behind the enemy creature. While a couple of laser discharges would certainly dispose of this opponent, Vance didn’t want to afterwards discover that he’d inadvertently wrecked a piece of vital tech on what he was sure was the spaceship’s bridge.

“It is not a requirement to use the laser on maximum intensity,” said Lieutenant Tagra, reading Vance’s mind. “A low-power shot would destroy the creature without penetrating the door.”

“Normally I’d agree with you, Lieutenant,” said Vance. “The trouble is, that door might crumble into pieces as soon as the laser hits it. I’m not willing to risk damaging whatever is on the bridge.”

“In which case, we must use our weapons,” said Tagra. He swung his gauss cannon around from its place across his back and gestured with the barrel. “Is the travel time of a gauss bullet up those stairs shorter than the interval of the extended negation field?”

“A question I’ve been asking myself,” said Vance.

He shifted his own gun into a firing position and his biceps strained with the weight. Vance aimed up the stairwell and fired into the zero-time. A moment later, Tagra did likewise.

For several seconds, the two huge gauss slugs hung in the air. Then, the oblex core activated its fifty-metre negation pulse from further along the passage. The two slugs vanished and two enormous holes appeared in the face of the alien at the top of the steps.

“Gauss slug beats negation field,” said Vance.

“Can anyone have a go, sir?” asked Drawl. “Or is this an officers only thing?”

“I’d hate you to miss out, Private,” said Vance. “Fire away.”

Drawl already had his smaller version of the gun on target. He fired. The reload on Vance’s gun completed and he discharged his own weapon for a second time, as did Tagra. Raven had a try, as did a couple of the other soldiers nearby.

The gauss slugs were held in stasis and then, when the negation pulse fired, accelerated once more to their normal-time velocity. Another few holes appeared in the alien’s head.

“Nobody said the universe had to be fair, huh?” said Raven.

“Sometimes it does work in our favour,” said Steigers.

Vance and his soldiers took turns shooting at the alien. Soon, not much of its head remained – certainly it wasn’t grinning any longer – and its torso and chest were a mess of gauss impacts.

“Even if you give the order, I’m not sure I’m gonna stop, sir,” said Carrington.

“It’s probably dead,” said Steigers. “If not, it definitely has a headache.”

“You want to take the risk?” asked Drawl.

“Maybe not.” Steigers fired again.

After another couple of volleys, Vance ordered a halt.

“I think we got it, sir,” said Raven.

“I think we got it too, Private.”

Given the ragged state of the alien, Vance couldn’t imagine that it would possibly be able to threaten his soldiers. He interfaced with the oblex core and ordered it to come closer. In a few seconds, the permanent negation field extended all the way up the stairs.

The alien toppled face-first on the landing. Vance thought for a moment it might slither down and block the stairwell, but it did not.

“Time to find us a Shadow of Kilvus,” he said.

“So do you reckon this Kilvar boss is going to be sitting in a chair up there, poking at a control panel, sir?” asked Private Titus Enfield in genuine puzzlement.

“I don’t expect that, soldier,” said Vance. “In truth, I don’t know what the hell we’re going to find, but I’ve got a good idea I’m not going to like it.”

“The oblex core has located an interface port, sir,” said Gantry. “Should I instruct it to break the security?”

“Go ahead,” said Vance. “Hold for my order to open the door.”

“Yes, sir.”

The oblex core was done in less than a minute.

“Waiting for the order, sir,” said Gantry.

Vance beckoned for Drawl and Londivir to come with him and he set off up the stairs. The huge alien was face-down and one of its arms was across the way. Stepping carefully over, Vance made it to the landing – a place which was littered with pieces of bone and dry flesh.

Indicating that Drawl and Londivir should remain a couple of steps down, Vance pressed himself against the left-hand landing wall and held his gun ready. The negation field would only extend two or three metres into the bridge, so he wasn’t expecting an immediate attack.

“Open the door.”

“Yes, sir.”

The bridge door slid aside with a grinding scrape. Vance and the two soldiers shone their flashlights into a not-quite-darkness. Shapes were apparent, though details were not.

An extended negation pulse fired and the light beams penetrated deeper into the bridge. Vance stepped cautiously towards the threshold, his gun steady while his brain tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

The warship’s bridge was completely different to the equivalent on an alliance vessel, but Vance was nonetheless sure he was right to call it a bridge. It was a large, square space, containing many rectangular single-screen consoles arranged in rows. The consoles were online and displaying text, though the characters were so dim they cast barely any light.

In front of each console – a hundred in all, Vance estimated – was a low-backed seat. Each seat was occupied.

“What’ve you found, sir?” asked Drawl in a stage whisper.

“There’s a crew,” said Vance. “Best get yourselves up here.”

He linked to the oblex core and ordered it to come another couple of metres closer, while Drawl and Londivir entered from the landing.

“This is the crew?” asked Drawl.

Vance didn’t answer. He aimed his flashlight at the nearest Kilvar, just as the larger negation pulse fired. The beam illuminated the creature well enough and Vance stared. Sitting in the bare metal chair was an alien which was near-identical in appearance to one of the Kilvar shock troops. It was the same height and with the same dead face, but much thinner in the limbs. Grey cables – fifteen or twenty in total - were attached to the creature’s head and they went all the way up to the ceiling five metres overhead, where they disappeared into a square panel.

Looking around the room, every other member of the crew was similarly linked to the spaceship and a forest of tendrils caught the light in a way that made Vance think of spiderwebs.

“So this is how they pilot their warships,” said Drawl. “I could never quite imagine one of those big bastards operating the controls. This? It fits just right.”

Vance nodded. He had an urge to call the oblex core another metre or two closer, so that the negation field would encompass the nearest Kilvar crewmember. In his head, Vance pictured grabbing a handful of those cables and giving them a hard pull to see exactly what would happen.

He had better things to be getting on with. “I can’t see a Shadow of Kilvus,” he said.

“That might be another exit in the forward bulkhead,” said Londivir, peering towards the opposite end of the room. “Our light does not extend that far.”

“Anything we can find out from these consoles?” Drawl wondered aloud. “I didn’t even know the Kilvar had a language, since I’ve never heard the assholes speak.”

Although learning the Kilvar language wasn’t the primary goal of the mission, it seemed like a good idea to let the oblex core analyse the text. First, Vance had to take care of the enemy crew.

“Let’s shoot a few of these,” he said. “Hell, let’s keep shooting them until I decide otherwise.”

He aimed his cannon at the nearest member of the enemy crew and fired. The Balon cannon thumped with recoil and its bullet entered zero-time not far from the creature’s head. A couple of seconds later, the oblex core extended the negation field for a split second, allowing the slug to continue its journey. The shot struck the Kilvar in the temple.

“Take care not to hit any of this hardware,” said Vance.

He called up another squad and gave Lieutenant Gantry some instructions. Soon, the soldiers were firing carefully aimed shots into the enemy crew. Bit-by-bit, the oblex core advanced up the bridge steps and when the Kilvar were brought into permanent negation, the full effects of the cannon shots were realised. Heads exploded. Flesh and bone fountained. These aliens weren’t nearly as tough as the shock troops and a single bullet was enough to do the job.

Vance didn’t ever shy away from the dirty work, but on this occasion he was too interested in the alien consoles. He shot four or five of the alien crew and then left his soldiers to continue the task.

“These consoles seem pretty basic to me, sir,” said Lieutenant Gantry. “A couple of keyboards and a screen.”

The alien which had been at this console had fallen back in its chair when the bullet entered its skull, and its empty eyes stared at the ceiling.

“I’d still guess they’re on the same tech tier as the alliance,” said Vance, looking at the alien in distaste. “The crew must be directly linked to the warship through these cables growing from their heads. Maybe they have a data link to the consoles. Or maybe the consoles are only there as backup or for status displays.”

Now those dangling cables were within arm’s reach, Vance no longer wanted to touch them. Instead, he leaned carefully over to see what was on the console screen.

“Alien crap,” he muttered, wondering why the text looked so familiar. “Lieutenant Gantry – connect the oblex core and have it construct a language file. I’m sure it’ll be useful to someone. Maybe even to us.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vance turned away and surveyed the room. His soldiers were efficient and only a few members of the enemy crew remained to be shot. The place was filled with dancing light beams and the possible exit which Londivir had noticed earlier turned out to be a closed door, leading to a place unknown.

It was the obvious place to explore next, though not until the rest of the Kilvar crew had been put out of their misery.

“Captain Vance, I have received a comm from the Gorgadar,” said Sergeant Charnos. “Captain Flint is under pressure from Kilvar vessels.”

“Pressure he can handle?” asked Vance sharply.

“Captain Flint did not disclose his feelings on the matter. The underlying message was clear – we must make haste.”

“Haste it is,” said Vance. He raised his voice. “We’re running out of time! Clear this room so we can push on!”

Even as he spoke the words, Vance felt his internal alarms ringing. Something bad was on the near horizon and, without a shadow of a doubt, it was going to come galloping into plain sight and ruin the shit out of his day.

Chapter Thirteen

Not much more than twenty minutes had passed since Vance had departed for the enemy warship. To Captain Flint, it felt like a lifetime. He held the Gorgadar at the same close distance to the crumbling wreckage and waited anxiously for developments. Dust continued to fill the sensor feeds, but its presence made him feel more vulnerable, rather than less.

“I wonder what’s happening onboard the Ancidium,” said Commander Larson.

“We’ll find out when we cancel this zero-time and the comms start coming through again,” said Flint.

It was clear he wasn’t the only one worrying about the difficulties faced by those on the Ancidium. The Endurus was a complete unknown, so how effective it would be in pursuit was anyone’s guess. Recker had been in similar situations before, so he had experience – and the instinct to go with it – but this new enemy was completely different to anything which had come before. Experience and instinct might not be enough.

As Flint was watching the sensors, a thick beam of darkness speared through the stasis field erected by the Gorgadar. Before he could react, a hundred or more missiles detonated against the warship’s energy shield. The beam winked out, but the plasma blasts continued chewing at the shield reserves.

“Shit!” said Flint.

His mind worked fast. He’d seen those dark energy beams before – the Kilvar used them as a means to bypass stasis. In the past, they’d sent their warships along the pathways at lightspeed. On this occasion, they’d only sent missiles and Flint wondered if that was because there wasn’t room for another warship in the limited field of normal time around the Gorgadar. Perhaps the Kilvar couldn’t make two solid objects appear in the same place.

A second beam appeared, hitting the Gorgadar in the middle of its portside flank. Another salvo of missiles struck the energy shield before the beam vanished.

“Commander Larson, can we fire in response? What about the countermeasures?”

“Sir, we’re not reading any targets through either our own stasis field, or along those energy beams,” said Larson. “I’ve activated the hull countermeasures, but the enemy missiles are hitting us so quickly our guns won’t have a chance to target.”

“We’re a sitting duck,” said Flint.

A third beam appeared, this time aimed from a different place. It connected with the centre of the Gorgadar’s topside armour and the missiles came a moment later. Flint’s eyes went to the energy shield gauge. It was almost full, but it was heading the wrong way.

“How do they know where to target?” asked Garrett.

“We’re in the exact centre of the stasis field,” said Fredericks. “That makes it easy for the Kilvar.”

“Is there any way we can distort the zero-time field?” asked Flint. “So that we’re no longer in the middle?”

“No, sir. I won’t bore you with the details right now, but we can’t change our position within the stasis.”

“We could do so on the Firestorm,” said Flint, casting his mind back to Evia.

“The Firestorm was fitted with control software designed for that exact task, sir,” said Fredericks. “That software isn’t installed on the Gorgadar.”

A fourth energy beam appeared, coming from another new direction. Larson stabbed her fingertip on one of the launch buttons on her console. Missiles raced from their clusters and disappeared into the dark beam.

“Starboards one to ten: fired,” said Larson.

Inbound enemy missiles exploded on the Gorgadar’s shield before the hull countermeasures could fire a single shot.

“Have we received detonation reports from our own missiles?” asked Flint.

“No reports, failure or otherwise, sir,” said Larson. “Since we detected no target, I launched those missiles with their guidance systems disabled. I can’t confirm what happened to them, but straight-line firing isn’t usually successful.”

“Don’t stop,” said Flint. “We’ve got plenty of ammunition in our magazines.” An idea jumped into his mind. “Lieutenant Fredericks – double the radius of our stasis field. If the enemy are stupid, they might be sitting right outside the perimeter.”

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “It’s done.”

The energy draw on the Gorgadar’s propulsion and exium modules increased significantly and Flint waited to find out if his plan had worked. It had not. A beam of dark energy stabbed through the stasis and Kilvar missiles exploded against the warship’s shield. Larson fired fifteen clusters in reply, but once again, no detonation reports came back.

“It looks so far as if the Kilvar particle beams won’t pass through those conduits,” said Eastwood.

“Nor their ships either,” said Flint. “Not when our negation field is so close to our hull.”

“I’m not convinced about that, sir,” said Eastwood. “It’d be my worry that the Kilvar are preparing something different.”

“A more potent weapon than just missiles?” said Flint.

“Maybe.”

“How far can we extend the zero-time field before anomalies start appearing?” asked Flint, hoping that his engine officers had learned something from their monitoring of the warship’s performance.

“We’re still running at double the radius, sir,” said Fredericks. “The Gorgadar is carrying so much exium, we could double the stasis radius another two or three times without running into problems.”

“The enemy will be expecting us to do just that,” said Larson. “They already watched us double the radius once.”

Flint grimaced. He was tempted to order the stasis field radius to be increased significantly, on the off chance the Kilvar hadn’t been sufficiently cautious. Unfortunately, the enemy would only remain trapped as long as the Gorgadar maintained that field and Flint didn’t know what kind of anomalies might start appearing on his warship’s propulsion. In addition, if he didn’t trap all of the enemy spaceships, the current problem would remain.

While the energy shield was holding, Flint’s brain hunted for other options. So far, he hadn’t come up with a plan.

“The decay pulse is available again,” said Larson. “Not that we can fire it without killing Captain Vance and everyone with him.”

“Lieutenant Becerra, get on the comms and make Captain Vance aware that time is running out,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir.”

“We could drop the stasis for a couple of seconds to find out what we’re facing, sir,” said Maddox. “Maybe we could even target a few of the enemy vessels and blow them to pieces.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “I don’t know how much danger we’d be exposing Captain Vance to.” He pursed his lips. “It might be something to consider soon.”

At that moment, three of the dark beams appeared simultaneously, touching the Gorgadar on both flanks and also on its topside. Plasma missiles sped through two of the beams and exploded violently against the warship’s shield. A different weapon passed along the third of the beams. This one was also explosive, but it detonated with vastly greater force than the combined missiles from the other beams.

Before Flint’s eyes, the Gorgadar’s shield gauge plummeted. “Damnit,” he said. “We can’t withstand many of those.”

He made a snap decision. “We’re going to cancel the stasis for a short while – long enough to get an idea of what’s out there. I’d hate to discover we’re letting ourselves be intimidated by an inferior force.”

“What about Captain Vance, sir?” asked Becerra.

“He’ll have to handle it,” said Flint.

“For how long, sir?”

“For however long it takes you to locate the Kilvar warships out there, Lieutenant.”

“That might take a while with all this dust, sir,” said Burner. “The visibility is terrible – the only hope is that we can follow those energy beams back to their source and locate whatever’s generating them.”

Flint swore again at how little control he had over the situation. The Kilvar were meant to be defeated and yet here they were, giving him trouble he didn’t want or need.

“If we cancel the stasis and accelerate directly away from that wreck, it’ll take about thirty seconds for Captain Vance to be out of decay pulse range. That’s thirty seconds for us to identify our primary enemy targets and then to wipe them out,” said Flint.

“Sir, we don’t have reliable data on the range of the Gorgadar’s decay pulse now that it’s powered by exium,” said Larson. “We couldn’t judge the size of the last discharge because of the dust.”

“Captain Vance could put himself and his platoon into zero-time so they don’t get overrun by Kilvar, or killed if the decay pulse sphere is larger than we’re expecting,” said Maddox.

Flint felt his anger rising at all the different problems and at the messiness of the possible solutions. That anger turned to fury when two more of the Kilvar dark beams touched against the Gorgadar’s hull and were quickly followed by another two massive explosions.

“Energy shield at forty percent,” said Eastwood. “I can divert some of the exium power so that it recharges quicker, but I don’t know if the hardware will cope with the extra strain.”

“We’re cancelling the stasis,” said Flint. “Before the enemy inflict so much damage that we’re unable to defeat them.”

“I’ll let Captain Vance know, sir,” said Becerra.

“We’ll make this as quick as possible,” said Flint.

“I’ll cancel the stasis on your order, sir,” said Fredericks.

Flint turned to face Larson. “Blow the crap out of our enemies, Commander. You too, Lieutenant Maddox. At the Evia system, we saw battery ships. Those are your targets.”

“Yes, sir,” said Larson. “I’ll hold the decay pulse until the time is right.”

“Lieutenant Fredericks – cancel the stasis,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. Stasis cancelled.”

The moment he heard the words, Flint banked the Gorgadar hard away from the Kilvar wreckage. With its engines thundering, the warship accelerated in a tight turn that would take it in the opposite direction.

“Tell me what’s out there!” said Flint.

The dust had not appreciably thinned and it speckled every feed. It was Flint’s hope that the Kilvar would be unable to keep track of his warship now that it was no longer stationary within its own stasis field, but he was sure they had the advantage of numbers. All it needed was for a single opponent to locate the Gorgadar and it could pass on the positional data to every other Kilvar spaceship.

“I’ve got a fuzzy lock on an enemy vessel,” said Burner. “Approximate mass: half a trillion tons. Distance: almost a million klicks.”

“Second enemy vessel located,” said Garrett. “Similar mass and distance to the first.”

The two red dots appeared on the tactical and Flint saw at once there was no way he was catching both in the same decay pulse. Lieutenant Becerra located a third and then Burner a fourth. The enemy vessels were arrayed in a circle around the Gorgadar’s previous position and that meant the decay pulse was unlikely to destroy more than one.

“Will the weapons lock on those targets, Commander Larson?” asked Flint.

“No, sir. Not reliably. We could fire the nose beam, but the battle computer projects only a five percent chance of a successful strike.”

“In that case, hold fire.”

A couple of red energy beams lanced through the dust, fired from two new directions. One of the beams hit the Gorgadar’s energy shield, while the second missed entirely. That, at least, was a positive sign. Flint chose a target and banked his warship towards it.

Already the engagement wasn’t going to plan. He’d wanted this to be over quickly – to defeat the Kilvar in a single, devastating activation of the decay pulse. That, it seemed, was not to be. Victory could only be assured by the conventional destruction of these enemy vessels.

And all the while it was happening, Captain Vance and his soldiers were back in normal time and stuck on the wreckage of a Kilvar capital ship.

The pressure was high.

“Sir, we’ve received an update from the Ancidium,” said Becerra. “They haven’t encountered the Endurus since we left.”

“I’d like to say that’s good news,” said Flint. “Somehow, I’m not convinced they’re out of the woods.”

Three red energy beams stabbed through the dust, one of them striking the Gorgadar’s energy shield. A hundred or more fast-moving red dots – enemy missiles – appeared on the tactical for a split-second and then they vanished without detonating.

“Target locked,” said Larson. “Upper clusters one through fifteen: fired.”

The Gorgadar’s own missiles sped after their target, just as a massive dark energy burst went off nearby. More enemy missiles came and went, missing the Gorgadar by a hair.

“Target locked,” said Larson. “Portside clusters one through fifteen: fired.”

Flint had fought in difficult circumstances before and this was going to be right up with there with the best of them. The Gorgadar was packing enormous firepower, but he suspected that if all this dust simply disappeared and revealed every enemy target, he’d be outgunned ten to one or more. The odds weren’t good.

Those odds suddenly shifted, in a way which Flint couldn’t immediately grasp.

“Sir, the Hades is still operational!” said Lieutenant Burner. “Send it your override codes and I’ll be able to bring it under our direct control!”

“Sending override codes,” said Flint. He pressed the button on his control panel to issue the data packet to the annihilator. A green light confirmed receipt.

Straightaway, Burner created a local battle network and the Hades appeared on the tactical.

“Half a million klicks from our position,” said Flint. “With no better visibility than we have. Lieutenant Maddox, you’re in charge of the Hades. Lay low for the moment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lieutenant Eastwood – find out what’s working on the Hades and what isn’t. Assuming its exium modules failed, that means it can do little more than fire missiles.”

“Yes, sir.”

And then came the bad to counteract the good.

“There’s another Kilvar mothership out there, sir,” said Garrett. “I caught a hint of it about a quarter-million klicks from our position. Now it’s gone.”

“Was it heading our way?”

“I didn’t obtain a reliable vector, sir.”

“Damnit,” said Flint.

A salvo of Kilvar missiles struck the Gorgadar’s shield and particle beams lanced through the darkness. Commander Larson fired in response, and received a dozen detonation confirmations.

Keeping his thoughts calm, Flint held the Gorgadar on course for what he hoped was one of the enemy battery ships, and hoped he could bring this to a conclusion before Vance and his platoon were wiped out.

Chapter Fourteen

Vance couldn’t even bring himself to curse when news about the imminent cancelling of the stasis came through. He and his platoon had been dropped into the deep end of the shitpool with weights tied to their feet, but as far as missions went, it was no different to usual.

The last of the Kilvar crew on this part of the bridge had been shot dead, and that left the way clear to the linked room.

“Are we pushing forward, sir?” asked Lieutenant Gantry, when he received the order to crack the security on the next door.

“I don’t see that we have a choice, Lieutenant,” said Vance. “We either put ourselves in zero-time and hope it all works out, or we locate the Shadow of Kilvus on this warship and put that bastard into zero-time instead.”

“Or drop the extractor beacon and run,” said Gantry.

“Shooting any Kilvar soldiers as we go,” said Lieutenant Tagra.

“I can’t sugar-coat it,” said Vance. He patted his Balon cannon. “At least we’ve got the firepower to hold our own this time.”

“The door security is broken, sir,” said Gantry. “The oblex core is just finishing its analysis of those Kilvar symbols as well.”

“I look forward to discussing the weather with our dead-faced buddies,” said Vance.

Before he could give the order to open the door, a comm came through from the Gorgadar, advising him that the Kilvar wreckage was about to leave zero-time.

“That’s our warning,” said Vance. He pointed at the door. “Open it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vance raised his voice. “Be ready! If you see a Kilvar – shoot it!”

The door slid open, with the same straining judder as the last one. As it happened, Vance’s body was gripped by the familiar aching pains that told him he was within a death aura.

“That confirms we’re in the right place,” he growled.

Through the door was a passage leading to another room. The light was bad, but Vance could see movement and the long strands of head cables.

He no longer cared about preserving the hardware.

“Ipanvir – give them some advance notice we’re coming.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Rocket coils whined and the Daklan’s missile raced into the room, the sharpness of its propellant cutting through the clinging odours of decay. The missile detonated silently in the vacuum. The explosion didn’t require oxygen to reach its full potential and Vance averted his gaze to protect his eyes from the light.

“Squad A, with me,” he said, striding towards the linking passage.

Vance’s foot caught on a bunch of head cables which had fallen across the aisle and he dragged one of the dead Kilvar crew with him. Cursing, he kicked himself free and advanced into the passage.

The light from the blast was gone, but numerous helmet flashlights stabbed into the darkness. Burnt bodies and scorched tech produced a stench which almost made Vance gag, while the thickly rising smoke shrouded every detail, leaving him trying to identify any threats which might remain. He sensed and heard movement somewhere ahead – a scraping sound that made him think of a damaged Kilvar dragging itself across the floor.

Knowing that time was so tight made Vance push on faster than he might otherwise have done. He entered the room and shone his flashlight left and right. Once again, he cursed, since first glance indicated this might be another space as expansive as the first.

“Movement,” said Drawl. He fired his Balon cannon left into the room, and then pulled a grenade from his side clip but didn’t throw it. “We’re going to need more than one squad to clear this place, sir.”

“Or more explosives,” said Vance.

The smoke hadn’t thinned much, but his brain was beginning to make better sense of what it was hiding. He could see countless strands hanging from the ceiling and knew they were attached to the warship’s crew. Many of those crewmembers had risen to their feet, though since they were tied to the ceiling and lacked ranged weapons, Vance wasn’t sure how exactly they intended to harm his platoon.

“No sign of the big boss,” said Raven.

“No,” said Vance. He shot his cannon at a nearby Kilvar, more in anger than through necessity. If the Shadow of Kilvus was elsewhere, the mission was likely going to fail. Vance took a step back, ready to exit the room and head elsewhere, when he noticed the beam from his flashlight becoming dimmer, as though its battery were failing.

Vance quickly realised the other light beams were similarly affected and the shapes he’d been able to see only moments before were now almost indistinguishable.

“It’s here,” said Vance, taking another step back. “It’s here!” he repeated, this time on the platoon comms.

In the couple of seconds it took Vance to say those words, the room descended into a complete, impenetrable darkness. He shouted for his squad to retreat and then turned, intending to dash along the passage and out of this room, while knowing at the same time there was nowhere to which he and his platoon might escape. The Shadow of Kilvus was free and it had got the scent of life. There’d be no getting away from the creature.

Vance hadn’t taken more than two steps when the air thickened to the consistency of treacle and he suddenly couldn’t move without an enormous effort. He called out, but nobody responded.

The Shadow of Kilvus invaded Vance’s mind, in the same way as Galtivon had in the Balon transport facility. He was ready for it this time and sent his own mind out, hunting for answers of his own. Vance was a stubborn bastard and bowed to nobody, least of all in his own body.

“Andralivus,” he spat, having learned the creature’s name.

The enemy was terrible and savage like Galtivon, and Vance could sense it was on the brink of absolute, irrecoverable insanity, and only a single goal which it had clung to forever – its ascendancy – was preventing it from becoming a creature of unchained destruction. It wanted Vance’s life energy, but it had been trapped in zero-time and didn’t know what had happened at Endurus. He felt its confusion.

And then, through his own agony at this intrusion into his body and mind, Vance sensed Andralivus send – through means he couldn’t understand – a request for both knowledge and assistance.

By now, Vance felt his resistance failing. The Shadow of Kilvus was powerful and it had only allowed him to live so long in order that it might scour his thoughts. With the last of his strength, Vance sought out the destination of the creature’s request.

The Endurus. It’s calling to the Endurus. And to the other Shadows of Kilvus. Shit.

Vance tried to impose his own thoughts on Andralivus, to make it aware that it had been used by the Endurus, and that there was no ascendancy - that all the life energy collected over the centuries had only been to charge the artifact for its own mission of death.

It was no use. Andralivus was almost done with Vance and it wasn’t listening.

Lost as he was in this internal battle that he had no chance of winning, Vance nevertheless felt a heavy object strike him at speed and he sensed himself falling. He thought to put his arms out, but realised he no longer knew how.

Time passed and Vance became aware of an acrid scent in his nostrils. He coughed and felt a pain in his arm and another in his leg. A familiar coldness raced through his veins and he groaned.

“He’s not dead,” said Corporal Hendrix. She sounded on edge.

Vance couldn’t see who she was speaking to, either because his eyes were closed or because it was still dark. He coughed again. “You’re damn right I’m not dead.”

“He sounds rough - like he’s been smoking those rolled up Kilvar jockey shorts again,” said another voice. It was Private Steigers and he was also on edge.

“You’d sound rough if you’d gone ten rounds with a Shadow of Kilvus,” said another voice. Private Carrington.

“I wouldn’t normally be so blunt to a patient, sir,” said Corporal Hendrix. “But you need to get your ass in gear.”

Vance didn’t expend his limited reserves of energy on useless questions like where am I? or what happened? Instead, he opened his eyes and tried to focus. Flashlight beams danced everywhere and Vance could see head cables, Kilvar brains, shattered bone and all the other good things that honest folk like to see when they first wake up after a major trauma.

Cursing the pain, which had receded but wasn’t entirely gone, Vance rolled onto his side. He could hear sounds of movement, but no shooting. Not yet.

“Steady,” said Hendrix.

“You told me to get my ass in gear just a moment ago, Corporal.”

“I didn’t mean you should kill yourself in the process, sir.”

Vance bit down on another groan and got himself into a sitting position. Standing didn’t seem like an option just yet. “How much Frenziol did you give me?”

“A double shot, sir.”

“In a couple of minutes, you’ll be dancing like the young man you were twenty-five years ago, sir,” said Carrington.

“I only ever danced once and that was at my wedding,” said Vance. “My wife made me promise never to do it again.”

He put out a hand and was hauled upright by Lieutenant Tagra. For few moments, Vance needed support. After a few deep breaths, and doubtless with some assistance from the boosters, he steadied himself.

“Where’s Andralivus?” he asked.

“If you mean the Shadow of Kilvus, it’s over that way,” said Steigers, thumbing casually over his shoulder like he was giving Vance directions to the nearest replicator. “Lieutenant Gantry put it in zero-time.”

Vance was beginning to understand. “I felt the oblex core go past me. Where’s Lieutenant Gantry?”

“Here, sir,” said Gantry. He was crouched a few paces away, his cannon aimed at the opposite door. “I guessed what was happening and sent the core in. I almost caught you and the rest of Squad A in the zero-time as well. Truth be told, we got lucky, sir.”

“I never wish for luck, but I’m always happy when it comes our way,” said Vance.

He was feeling much better now and he took stock of his surroundings. Vance and his platoon were in the first bridge room. The room in which he’d encountered Andralivus was in zero-time and the flashlight beams illuminated the curved edge of the stasis sphere. Everything beyond that was utterly dark.

“How long was I out of action?” asked Vance.

“A couple of minutes, no more,” said Corporal Hendrix.

“That’s why we’re still in this room, rather than carrying you off somewhere, sir,” said Gantry. “Besides, this seems as good a place to defend as anywhere.”

“How long will the oblex core maintain that zero-time, Lieutenant?” asked Vance.

“Until its exium depletes, sir. I didn’t set a limit.”

Vance grimaced. “That means we can’t request the extractor attack,” he said. “We need another core to cancel the stasis.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, Lieutenant,” said Vance. “You took the only option you had and I’m glad you did.” He faced the soldiers nearby. “We have more bad news. I was linked to Andralivus for a time. It’s even more insane than Galtivon and it did something – sent out a comm somehow, that went to the Endurus. And there’s another Shadow of Kilvus still active – this one’s called Tiovan. First name Ass for all I know. I couldn’t find out where this one was located, but Andralivus made contact.”

“Have the Kilvar given up on their ascendancy?” asked Tagra. “Or do these creatures retain a hope that it might yet happen?”

“Andralivus didn’t know what the Endurus did,” said Vance. “I don’t want to guess what’ll happen when it finds out. Assuming it ever gets out of zero-time.” He took a deep breath as it all sank in. “I need to speak with Captain Flint.”

The comms relays were active and he requested a channel.

Chapter Fifteen

In spite of the dust particles, which showed no sign yet of thinning, the Kilvar appeared to be more than capable of landing shots on the Gorgadar’s energy shield. Flint guessed they were numerous enough that one or more of their spaceships always had sight of his vessel.

“Shield gauge at thirty percent,” said Lieutenant Fredericks.

“Get me a sensor lock on that first battery ship,” said Flint, staring at the feeds as if force of will alone could penetrate the greyness. The enemy ship wasn’t far, but the sensors still only had an approximate position for the target.

“Got it!” said Burner. “Battery ship at sixty thousand klicks. There’s a second warship parked next to it with a similar mass. They’re lined up!” he finished, his voice climbing in excitement.

“Nose beam locked and fired,” said Larson, almost before Burner had finished speaking.

A thick beam of greasy blue jumped from the weapon’s housing beneath the Gorgadar’s nose, cutting unattenuated through the dust. What it struck, Flint couldn’t see.

“Forward clusters one through ten: fired!” said Larson, a moment later.

One hundred and twenty missiles streaked away, the orange of their propulsions dwindling rapidly into nothingness. Flint increased the Gorgadar’s velocity and his grip on the controls tightened.

“Sir, I have Captain Vance on the comms!” said Becerra. “He’s placed the extractor beacon, but the Shadow of Kilvus is in zero-time!”

“Bring him in – open channel,” said Flint tersely. “Make sure he knows I can’t spare him my full attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Gorgadar’s increased velocity had brought it close to the target Kilvar warships and the sensors detected stark light ahead.

“Captain Flint,” said Vance in greeting. He got straight on with business. “I can activate the extractor beacon, but I have no way of cancelling the zero-time around the target. If wishes were horses, I’d be riding out of here on the second oblex core we didn’t bring along with us.”

“I can use the Gorgadar to negate that zero-time,” said Flint. “Trouble is, we’ve got our hands full.” He made some quick calculations. “I might need a few minutes. What’s your situation?”

“We’re holed up on the enemy bridge, sir, but the first of the Kilvar shock troops just poked their heads through the door. I don’t know how long it’ll take them to get their act together – when that happens, we’ll be overrun.”

“Do you have a means to get out of there?”

Flint’s eyes were still on the sensor feeds. The Gorgadar’s particle beam had put a massive hole clean through the high flank of a fifteen-thousand-metre Kilvar battery ship and done likewise to the enormous angular stasis cannon that was parked alongside it. The turret appeared out of action and the battery ship was ablaze from the missiles which had detonated against it.

As Flint was looking, Larson fired another sixty clusters of warheads at the stricken vessels. The warheads detonated in moments, engulfing the two spaceships.

“Our primary goal is to protect the extractor beacon, sir,” said Vance. “After that, we’ll fight our way back to the docking bay and hope the Kilvar left our shuttle intact.”

Flint knew a desperate plan when he heard one. “You’ll have to be more than twenty-five metres from the beacon when we fire the extractor. Double that for safety.” He banked the Gorgadar hard. Kilvar particle beams struck the warship’s shield and he caught sight of fast-moving shapes in the dust.

“Forward missile clusters eleven through twenty-five: fired,” said Larson. “Our nose beam is recharged and ready to go.”

“Yes, sir,” Vance continued, having paused while Larson was speaking. “There’s none of my soldiers wants to be extracted. One way or another, we’ll be far enough from the beacon.”

Flint had come up with a modified version of Vance’s plan. “When the Gorgadar brings that Shadow of Kilvus out of zero-time, we’ll extract the bastard and that should give you an opportunity to recover the oblex core and cancel its stasis field generation instruction.”

“That might work, sir,” said Vance. “Then you’d have to put this whole wreck back into zero-time. That would allow us to escape by using the oblex core to create another negation field.” He sounded like he wanted to strangle something. “Life was a damn sight easier when all I had to worry about was guns, explosives and four-armed alien scumbags.”

“I don’t know if I can keep the Gorgadar stationary for as long as you’d need, Captain Vance,” said Flint. “We’re taking a lot of incoming fire as it is, and our energy shield won’t last much longer.”

Vance cursed. “Let’s trade bad news, sir. The Shadow of Kilvus – Andralivus – contacted the Endurus. It also contacted another Shadow of Kilvus, this one called Tiovan. If we’re in the shit now, it might get a whole lot worse in the near future.”

“I have no idea what the hell will come from that,” said Flint. “If the Endurus wants more life energy it might just come hunting for Andralivus and Tiovan. And the Shadows of Kilvus aren’t likely to just give up that life energy – not this time.”

“One Shadow of Kilvus and a few ships aren’t going to stop the Endurus, sir,” said Vance. “Even assuming they start fighting.”

“We need to get what we came for and lightspeed out of here as soon as possible,” said Flint.

Saying the words didn’t make it any easier to accomplish the task and he scraped his teeth together while he tried to imagine a way that wouldn’t result in the destruction of the Gorgadar or the deaths of the soldiers on the Kilvar wreck.

A thought came to him. “Captain Vance, you told me that Andralivus contacted both the Endurus and Tiovan – did you get a sense of their location?”

More Kilvar particle beams sliced past the Gorgadar and a few dozen missiles struck the warship’s shield. Off to starboard, a burst of dark energy scattered the dust. Flint banked one way and then the other, doing his best to juggle his attention between his conversation with Vance and the requirements of the engagement.

“The Endurus was a long way away, sir,” said Vance. “Not Tiovan, though. Tiovan is somewhere close by.”

It was the confirmation Flint needed that the earlier sighting in the dust had indeed been this same Shadow of Kilvus.

“Since we’re here, why should we settle for extracting just one Shadow of Kilvus?” mused Flint.

“I don’t think I can help you with that, sir,” said Vance. “I sensed the contact between Andralivus and Tiovan, but nothing that could help target the extractor.”

“Damnit,” said Flint. “If you remember anything else—”

“There is nothing else, sir.”

Flint bit down on his disappointment. He knew he was reaching too high, but sometimes that was the only way. A glance at the Gorgadar’s shield gauge was a stark reminder that he was in no position to gamble. Each passing moment saw the warship’s reserves fall that little bit further.

The Gorgadar needed a break from combat to allow its shield to recharge and the only way that could be achieved was to lightspeed away and hope the enemy didn’t follow too soon. Experience suggested that was a scant hope.

“Sir – how important is it that we extract both Shadows of Kilvus?” asked Vance.

Flint was surprised at the question. “I don’t have a good answer for you, Captain Vance. We’re hoping to use the life energy against the Endurus. I just figured it would be better for the alliance if we had more of that energy, rather than less.”

In truth, Flint didn’t even know if the Gorgadar’s batteries could store the amount of energy he planned to extract from one Shadow of Kilvus, let alone two, but extracting both of these enemies seemed like the best and most logical thing to do, and for many reasons.

“Why did you ask, Captain Vance?”

“Just thinking, sir.”

Flint caught something in the words. “Thinking about what?”

“Nothing, sir.”

It didn’t sound like Vance was thinking about nothing and Flint was in two minds about whether he should ask again.

The moment was taken away by a shout from behind.

“Sir, I’ve finished my checks of the Hades!” said Eastwood, his voice laden with excitement. “Not all of the exium modules are depleted - we had the load balanced across the entire system and when some of those modules failed, the others weren’t able to pick up the slack and the warship switched itself out of superstress. That’s what caused the stasis field to collapse.”

“Can we put the Hades back into superstress?” asked Flint at once, his brain already racing.

“I don’t know how long it’ll hold, but yes, sir, it’ll go back into superstress.”

“Switch it over,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir,” said Eastwood. “The Hades is now in superstress. We have anomalies on the remaining exium modules. I don’t know if the control system will be able to deal with so many.”

“I don’t care about stability at the moment - which of the Hades’s weapons systems are available?” asked Flint.

“The only one I’m not sure about is the decay pulse, sir. It might fire, but I don’t know what the outcome will be – it’s possible the power draw will shut everything down without the weapon activating.”

“What about the energy shield?” asked Flint. A plan was forming.

“That should activate as normal, sir. I don’t know if it’ll be at full strength.”

“We’re going to need that warship to create stasis as well, Lieutenant Eastwood.”

“You’re asking a lot from the remaining exium modules, sir.”

“I know.” Flint turned his head. “Lieutenant Maddox – pilot the Hades towards the Kilvar wreck. If anything shows up on the tactical, fire the Terrus-VI guns and launch the lightspeed missiles.”

“What about the hellburners, sir?”

“Hold the hellburners – if they start raining down on the Kilvar fleet, the enemy will identify the direction of fire and they might locate the Hades. There’s no way in hell the Kilvar will know where the Terrus shots and lightspeed missiles are coming from.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maddox with obvious relish.

Flint had a new target and he brought the Gorgadar around, accelerating as he did so. The imperfectly suppressed lateral forces made his neck and shoulders strain, but he didn’t relent.

“Are you still there, Captain Vance?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re heading your way. As soon as we’re close enough, we’ll create a negation field that will bring Andralivus out of stasis. I’ll need you to confirm you’re far enough away for us to fire the extractor.”

“Yes, sir. What happens after?”

“We’ve got the Hades with us now. It’s going to provide shelter for the Gorgadar and it’s also going to put that wreck into zero-time.”

Vance didn’t ask questions. “I’ll listen out on the comms, sir.”

“We won’t keep you waiting.”

Flint cut the channel and focused on piloting the Gorgadar towards its destination. He banked left and right erratically to throw off the enemy attacks, hoping the Kilvar would fail to guess his destination. All the while, Larson fired missiles from the warship’s many clusters. She was a skilled weapons officer, but in these conditions, accuracy was an impossible dream. It was sure the enemy were losing warships, yet the incoming fire hadn’t lessened.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Maddox had control of the Hades and she was guiding it die-straight to the Kilvar wreck. The annihilator didn’t have nearly so far to travel and it would be in position before the Gorgadar. As yet, Maddox hadn’t discharged the battleship’s weapons.

“I think I spotted that capital ship again, sir,” said Becerra. “It was at forty thousand klicks and on a convergent heading, but it’s gone from the sensors again.”

“Our energy shield is below fifteen percent, sir,” said Fredericks. “Something needs to change, and soon.”

“Something will change, Lieutenant.”

The Gorgadar was travelling at a high velocity and it tore through the dust. Flint replayed in his mind the moment when the Hades’s decay pulse had disintegrated the four moons and the stone cladding around the Endurus. The particles had expanded with tremendous speed and soon, he was sure, they would no longer offer protection for either side in this conflict.

“Enemy capital ship detected, sir!” said Burner. “It’s at twenty thousand klicks and heading straight for us!”

Flint threw the Gorgadar to starboard, a split second before a vast detonation of corrosive energy ripped through the dust. He banked again and aimed the nose down. The most potent enemy vessel had a lock on the Gorgadar’s position and that was going to make things difficult.

“We need to lose that asshole,” he snarled.

“Rear clusters one through thirty: fired,” said Larson. “How about a nose-tail swap, sir?”

“Let’s give it a go,” said Flint.

He hadn’t executed such a manoeuvre for what seemed like months, but his hands retained the memory. Shifting the controls with a sharp action, Flint altered the output balance across the Gorgadar’s propulsion modules. He felt the warship lurch and the sensor feeds swung crazily. At the end of it, the nose-mounted particle beam was pointing directly at the oncoming enemy spaceship.

“Nose beam: fired,” said Larson.

Crackling blue energy lanced into the darkness and Flint hoped it had ripped a hole clean through the enemy vessel, all the way from its nose to its stern.

“That’s a hit, sir,” said Larson. “I’m unable to confirm the extent of the damage.”

“I have the Hades in position, sir,” said Maddox. “Awaiting orders.”

“The enemy capital ship is still on our tail, sir,” said Burner.

Flint cursed. He didn’t want Tiovan to run from the engagement and never return, but he couldn’t allow the Shadow of Kilvus to maintain a sensor lock. Keeping the enemy interested was going to require a fine balancing act.

“Lieutenant Maddox – fire the Hades’s forward Terrus-VI guns at our current target.”

“Yes, sir. Forward Terrus guns fired.”

Flint held his breath, wondering if he’d be required to give the order to fire the other two operational turrets. He stared at the bulkhead screen.

“We have lost sensor visibility of the pursuing warship, sir,” said Becerra. “They took off into lightspeed!”

It was good news, but it would be for naught if other enemy vessels still had sensor sight on the Gorgadar. The warship was still travelling stern-first and Flint swapped the nose and tail again. He banked one way and the other, hoping it would be enough.

“Distance to Hades: ten thousand kilometres,” said Garrett.

Flint’s eyes went to his control panel. The Gorgadar was still generating a limited-radius negation sphere that would prevent it becoming trapped when he gave out the next order.

“Lieutenant Eastwood – instruct the Hades to create a stasis field with a ten-thousand-kilometre radius, and with a two-hundred-kilometre inner negation field.”

“Yes, sir. Stasis field created. I don’t know how long it’ll last.”

Flint watched the distance readout fall. When the Gorgadar was two thousand kilometres from the Hades, he ordered Lieutenant Eastwood to reduce the radius of the latter spaceship’s negation field to the same two thousand kilometres.

Shortly after, the Kilvar wreckage came into sight, frozen in place by the Hades’s zero-time field. Flint guided his warship closer and then brought it to a halt. The Gorgadar was in normal time owing to the negation field it was creating to counteract the stasis generated by the Hades. The annihilator was eighteen hundred kilometres away and, since it was at the centre of the stasis sphere, Flint hoped the Kilvar would target the other vessel while the Gorgadar’s shield recharged, Captain Vance escaped from the wreck and the extraction of Andralivus was completed.

He turned towards Larson and her expression was a mixture of many emotions.

“This is—” She shook her head and didn’t say anything else.

“I know,” said Flint. He felt his head swimming and tried not to think about the mechanics of the situation.

“We need to free Andralivus,” said Larson.

“And extract the bastard.”

Larson smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s do this.”

“Lieutenant Fredericks – on my command, increase our negation field so that it encompasses that entire wreck.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lieutenant Burner – you’ll need to lock onto that extractor beacon immediately.”

“I’m ready for it, sir.”

Flint took a breath. “Lieutenant Becerra – contact Captain Vance. Make sure the beacon is activated, and tell him to get the hell away from it. He’s aware of the urgency.”

“Yes, sir.” Becerra spoke into the comms. “The order is given.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Flint hoped that Vance and his platoon wouldn’t take long to put fifty metres between themselves and the beacon. Opening his eyes once more, he set his gaze on the softly glowing green light which told him the focused extractor was available.

Flint smiled thinly. Drawing the life energy from Andralivus was going to be the closest thing to justice he could imagine.

Chapter Sixteen

Vance and his platoon were under pressure when the order came. In fact, the soldiers would likely have already been dead were it not for the partial failure of the motors operating the bridge door. Now, that door had jammed a quarter of the way open, making it tight for the Kilvar shock troops to enter the bridge.

In addition, the enemy were demonstrably in a state of some disarray, as they only attacked in small groups, rather than with organization. One part of Vance liked to believe that most of the Kilvar troops were in pieces on the floor elsewhere on the wreck, thanks to their short-lived encounter with a high-powered cutting laser.

Vance’s earpiece crackled and a link was made to his comms unit.

“The Gorgadar is in position,” said Becerra.

“Are you ready to fire the extractor?” asked Vance.

“Yes, Captain. Get the hell away from there, and good luck.”

With that, Becerra was gone.

Vance had a plan of his own – a plan he hadn’t wanted to tell Captain Flint, since he knew what the other man would order. There again, Flint knew an opportunity when he saw one, so maybe he’d have given the go-ahead. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Time to move!” bellowed Vance on the platoon comms.

He’d already talked this through with his soldiers. As soon as Vance had finished speaking, Ipanvir rose from behind one of the consoles midway across the room, his rocket tube horizontal across his shoulder.

“Rocket out.”

The missile sped away and exited the bridge through the narrow door opening, passing over the slumped body of a Kilvar shock trooper who’d just succumbed to a couple of well-placed headshots.

A flash of light illuminated the landing outside, spilling into the bridge. Keeping his head low, Vance hoped the enemy had been packed tightly on the steps.

“Raimi on the case,” said Raimi, standing from his crouch near Ipanvir, his own launcher aimed at the door.

A second rocket followed the first. Light and heat spilled into the bridge space. Again, Vance kept low.

“Lieutenant Tagra!” he shouted.

Tagra knew what was expected and he charged for the door at the head of Squad B. The rest of the soldiers – except Vance – advanced across the room, in preparation for the order to exit the bridge.

Vance checked behind. The extractor beacon was on the floor next to the edge of the oblex core’s stasis field. He turned once again to the bridge exit. The bottom of the steps outside was fifty-five metres from the beacon and that should be more enough, assuming the described fifty-metre radius of the focused extractor was accurate.

“Hold!” shouted Tagra, raising a hand. The rest of his squad halted to the left and right of the door.

Tagra was just able to fit through the opening without turning sideways and he strode onto the landing and out of Vance’s sight.

“Ipanvir!”

The Daklan was closest to the door and he swung awkwardly to manoeuvre his rocket tube business-end first into the opening.

“Rocket out.”

Another detonation followed the announcement and Vance ground his teeth together in frustration that he wasn’t involved.

“The steps are clear!” said Tagra.

The other members of Squad B vanished onto the landing and Vance listened to them on the comms. They descended to the bottom of the steps and then Tagra ordered Squads C and D to follow at the double.

Lieutenant Gantry was one of the last out of the door. He paused briefly in the opening. “You’ve got this, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Now go.”

Gantry disappeared after the others and a few seconds later, Tagra gave Vance the news he’d been waiting for.

“We have secured the passage, Captain Vance.”

“I’ll contact the Gorgadar.” Vance requested a channel to the warship and Becerra accepted immediately. “We’re good to go,” he said. “Fire the extractor.”

“Acknowledged,” said Becerra.

The moment the channel was cut, Vance rose from cover and shone his helmet flashlight directly at the oblex core’s stasis sphere. He waited for the death aura to hit him.

The pain came, and Vance interfaced with the oblex core as quickly as he was able. It only took a couple of seconds, but it felt like an age. Along the datalink, he sent a premade set of instructions. The core accepted the commands.

Andralivus came for Vance, smashing into his body and his consciousness with bestial fury. Vance held himself steady and used his mind to hurl insults at the Kilvar. He laughed at its failure - at how it had been manipulated for a thousand years. Vance didn’t know if the Shadow of Kilvus understood, but it raged against him, battering his defences.

And then, Vance played what he hoped would be his ace card.

Tiovan has betrayed you.

Time was too short to spin an elaborate lie and Vance hoped this would be enough. He sensed emotions within Andralivus – confusion, fury, and perhaps, the tiniest hint of uncertainty. The creature cast outwards, seeking to link with Tiovan. Vance was ready and he tried to follow, or at least to discover where this other Shadow of Kilvus was hiding itself.

The focused extractor hit Vance, ravaging his body and inflicting pain of a magnitude he had never thought possible. He’d prepared himself for it, as much as he was able, and he pictured his wife and his children, clinging to their images in his mind, at the same time as he cursed the haziness of the memories. It had been too long. A lifetime too long.

“Sir? How are you feeling?”

Vance stared into the concerned face of Lieutenant Hunter Gantry.

“It worked,” said Vance. The pain of the extractor was raw, but it was just a memory. Nothing more.

“Yes, sir. Oblex#75 put you into stasis. The extractor was switched off about thirty seconds ago.”

“Did we get the bastard?”

“Yes,” said Lieutenant Tagra with some satisfaction. “The Gorgadar’s life energy storage is filled to bursting.”

Vance closed his eyes. “And we’re in our own pocket of stasis negation?”

“Yes, sir,” said Gantry. “The Gorgadar’s extractor killed Andralivus and then Captain Flint put this wreck in zero-time. Oblex#75 is keeping us in negation.”

“I’m glad it worked out.” Vance smiled.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sir?” asked Gantry, peering into Vance’s visor.

“Absolutely,” said Vance. And he meant it. “We have to get back to the shuttle.”

“Yes, sir. As quickly as possible. Before the Kilvar blow the Hades into pieces or figure out some other way to ruin our day.”

Vance took a step and found his legs were far steadier than they had any right to be. He cast his gaze around the bridge room and it was as he remembered it. The oblex core floated in the air a few metres away, and the cutting laser was right next to it. The soldiers were all standing close by - they were worried and trying to pretend otherwise.

“Let’s move!” barked Vance.

The soldiers straightened. Vance strode ahead, and waved them to follow.

“One extra thing, sir,” said Gantry on the officer channel, as if he’d only just remembered. “The oblex core finished its analysis of the Kilvar language data.”

Vance didn’t slow. “I received the files in my suit computer,” he confirmed.

“The core also reported a match, sir.” Gantry’s voice indicated he was about to reveal something important. “Those symbols on the Ancidium’s hull have the same origins, with a ninety-nine-point-nine percent certainty.”

“I don’t know what the hell Captain Flint or Admiral Recker are going to make of that,” said Vance.

“This is all screwed up, sir, and we’re caught in the middle of it.”

Vance felt his mood hardening and the anger came. “We were caught in the middle of it, Lieutenant. Until we took out nearly the entire damn Kilvar fleet. Now we’re the ones who’re laughing.”

Gantry gave a tight smile and nodded. “And we’ll do the same to any other alien species which thinks the alliance is a soft target.”

It was good to see that Gantry hadn’t lost the steel and Vance clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Let’s go shoot us some Kilvar.”

“Yes, sir.”

The landing outside the bridge door was a mess of carbonized flesh and char covered the walls. Freed from stasis, the smoke hung in the air, though not enough to impede Vance’s sight down the stairwell.

He descended cautiously, picking his way around the chunks of dead Kilvar.

“We should take additional care from here, Captain Vance,” said Tagra. “The area below was clear for many metres in both directions, but it is likely the Kilvar advanced when we withdrew onto the bridge.”

“Acknowledged,” said Vance.

He ordered the oblex core to a halt and finished his climb to the bottom. The others of Squad A were with him. They knew the mission wasn’t over yet and they showed no reduction in alertness.

“This way, sir,” said Drawl, indicating left with his gun.

“Thank you, soldier,” said Vance. “The extractor hurt, but it didn’t scramble my brains.”

Drawl gave one of his sideways smiles. “Just making sure you didn’t forget, sir.”

Many dead Kilvar littered the passage, and the floor was thick with pieces of cannon-blasted skulls. Beyond the extents of the negation field, it was dark in both directions.

“Squad B move down and cover right,” said Vance.

A few seconds later, Tagra and four other soldiers were in the passage, their guns trained into the darkness.

“Be ready,” said Vance.

He turned and saw the oblex core up near the landing, with the soldiers of Squads C and D standing to either side. Vance ordered the device to advance a couple of metres, and it floated smoothly down the top four steps before halting.

A Kilvar shock trooper was brought into the negation sphere. Vance, Drawl and Londivir hit it with simultaneous headshots and down it went, in an explosion of desiccated brain matter.

“One hostile,” Vance reported on the comms. “Now clear.”

“Damn, I hope we don’t have to shoot our way back to the shuttle,” said Raven.

“I reckon we’ll have a clear run,” said Steigers confidently.

“Do you say this crap just to tempt fate?”

“Maybe I like to walk on the edge.”

Vance motioned for silence and summoned the oblex core another three metres closer. He cursed under his breath when two additional Kilvar soldiers were brought out of stasis. Shots from the Balon cannons put one down, though the second remained standing, with most of its head missing.

“Damnit,” said Vance.

The whining of his gun’s reload was lost in the vacuum, but he could feel the vibration of the mechanism through the palms of his hands. He readied himself for an attack, but the Kilvar soldier didn’t take so much as one step. The reload on Vance’s gun completed and he fired a second bullet into the Kilvar. It toppled forward and hit the ground.

“Those Kilvar didn’t move,” said Drawl.

“We shot them fast,” said Steigers.

“The second one wasn’t dead,” said Drawl. “And it didn’t move at all. Not one little bit.”

“We must have disabled it,” Steigers persisted.

“But—"

“I hear what you say, Private Drawl,” said Vance. “Let’s find out if the next bunch of Kilvar are any livelier than these ones.”

He ordered the oblex core a further three metres down the steps, allowing its negation field to extend along the passage. This was much slower going than Vance had wanted and frustration was already gnawing at his patience.

This time, three Kilvar shock troops were brought out of zero-time. They were shoulder to shoulder and one of the aliens had its front leg raised like it was mid-stride.

Vance put a shot into the leftmost alien and the other members of his squad also fired. By now, Squads B and C were in the passage, and Vance dropped into a crouch so the soldiers behind could shoot over his head.

The three aliens fell to the floor.

“No movement again,” said Drawl. He got his eye on a lump of grey flesh on the floor and kicked it towards the corpses. “There’s something happening here, sir.”

Vance had the stirrings of an understanding, but he didn’t speak of it yet. “Let’s move up,” he said. “Give the next Kilvar a couple of seconds and we’ll watch what they do.”

He ordered the oblex core firstly to the bottom of the steps, and then a couple of metres in the left-hand direction. One more Kilvar was revealed.

“Hold fire,” said Vance, with his gun aimed on target.

For several long seconds he waited, and the Kilvar didn’t move. It seemed to Vance like he was staring at a particularly ugly statue.

“I don’t like it,” said Raven.

“These bastards don’t do subtlety,” said Vance. “It’s not moving because there’s something wrong with it, not because it’s hoping to trick us.”

“Go ahead, sir,” said Raven. “Kick it in the balls. If it doesn’t move, I’ll be convinced.”

Vance did exactly that. He strode towards the alien and swung his combat boot right between its legs. It didn’t flinch and neither did the contact drain Vance’s life energy. He hadn’t expected it to.

“That made my eyes water just watching, sir,” said Steigers.

“Convinced, Private Raven?” asked Vance, without taking his eyes off the Kilvar.

“Yes, sir.”

Vance stepped back, still a little wary. “I reckon that with Andralivus gone, these other Kilvar don’t know what to do with themselves.” He had another thought, or perhaps it was an echo from his link to the Shadow of Kilvus. “Or maybe these shock troops are no more than husks until Andralivus puts a little fragment of itself into their bodies.”

“And then they go hunting for life energy to send home to daddy,” said Raven. She swore loudly, strode forward and gave the Kilvar shock trooper another kick in the balls, though she had to stretch in order to do so. “These assholes make me so angry.”

“Come on,” said Vance, hoping every other Kilvar on this wreck would be inactive like this one. “Let’s get moving.”

Vance led the way. At first, he was cautious when the oblex core freed the Kilvar troops from stasis. Then, when none of the aliens moved, his confidence grew. With much of the wreck in zero-time, the comms relays were no longer functioning and that prevented Vance speaking with the Gorgadar. No doubt Captain Flint had problems of his own, and time was surely tight.

The passage was crowded with enemy soldiers and in some places, Vance was forced to step sideways to get by. In one part of the passage, the Kilvar were clustered so tightly the only way past was to crawl through their legs or topple them like pins and clamber over.

Vance wasn’t in the mood for either.

“Cut them down with the laser,” he ordered.

A short burst from the laser filled the passage with smoke and body parts. The method seemed efficient, so Vance decided to stick with it. Soon, the platoon was making much better progress, although the ground underfoot had become treacherous with corpses.

At the Kilvar storage room, where the cutting laser had earlier performed so admirably, Vance repeated the method of flying across the room using the oblex core and the laser as a means of flight. Once Squads A and B were across, they went into zero-time while Squads C and D made the crossing.

“Simple when you know how,” said Drawl.

“I’m trying not to think about it,” said Raven.

Vance set off again and shortly after, the platoon entered the shuttle bay. There were no Kilvar here, so it was an easy stroll up the transport’s boarding ramp. Only when he dropped into the pilot’s chair did Vance finally allow himself to believe that he might soon be back on the Gorgadar – for all the safety that offered.

The moment the flank doors were closed, he lifted the shuttle vertically off the platform. While none of his platoon had been killed, this mission had been tougher than the sum of its parts.

Guiding the shuttle along the docking tunnel, Vance contacted Captain Flint, to let him know what he’d learned from his connection with Andralivus.

Flint had news of his own and it wasn’t good.

Chapter Seventeen

Waiting for Captain Vance and his platoon to escape from the Kilvar wreck following the successful extraction of Andralivus was painful. Flint’s eyes kept going to the monitoring tools for the Gorgadar’s life batteries, all of which were nailed on one hundred percent. The Shadow of Kilvus must have drained trillions of sentient creatures over the centuries and now Flint and his crew had stolen it all in an instant.

According to Lieutenant Fredericks, there’d been more life energy than the Gorgadar’s massively expanded batteries could hold. What had happened to the excess, nobody knew, and nobody speculated.

So, the primary mission goal had been accomplished, yet Flint’s body was tense with nervous energy and he had a feeling that something unpleasant was about to happen.

He glanced at the sensors, where the annihilator Hades was visible less than two thousand kilometres away. Much of the intervening space was in zero-time, meaning that communication between the two vessels was lost, denying the Gorgadar’s crew knowledge of whatever attacks the Kilvar may have launched against the battleship. Only the continued existence of the Hades’s stasis field indicated the warship was operational.

“We could increase the radius of our own negation field so that it extends to the Hades,” suggested Commander Larson, watching Flint carefully.

“And then we’d have to reposition the Gorgadar so that the negation field doesn’t encompass the Kilvar wreck as well,” said Flint. This whole situation with zero-time and negation was wearing him down and just thinking about it made him grind his teeth.

“If that’s what it takes, sir.”

The thought of action, however limited, appealed more to Flint than sitting on his ass and watching the status monitoring tools. “Let’s do it,” he said.

Flint didn’t bother rotating the Gorgadar and simply piloted it flank-first towards the Hades. When the two vessels were separated by five hundred kilometres, he brought his warship to a halt.

“Lieutenant Fredericks – I want our negation field to stretch as far as the Hades, and no further.”

“Yes, sir – just enough for comms and a sensor feed,” said Fredericks. “Done.”

Straightaway, it became apparent that the Kilvar hadn’t given up. The Gorgadar’s sensors revealed one of the enemy dark beams stabbing into the Hades’ energy shield. A flash of plasma followed.

The attack on the annihilator wasn’t the only problem. As soon as the dark beam appeared, Flint felt an aching in his joints and his bones, that made him feel decades older. The beam vanished and the aching went with it.

“Damnit, did anyone else feel that?” asked Lieutenant Copeland.

“A death aura,” said Flint. “It came through that Kilvar dark beam.”

“Does that mean the Endurus is here?” asked Maddox.

“I don’t know, Lieutenant.” Flint swore. “If it is, we’re in the shit.”

“The Hades’s energy shield reserves are at forty-five percent,” said Lieutenant Eastwood. “Normally, I’d say it’s taken a beating, but I don’t know if the failure of its exium modules has reduced the maximum level of those reserves. Hell, it might just be a calibration issue.”

Right this moment, Flint wasn’t interested in the technical explanations. The Kilvar were attacking and when they finally broke the Hades’s shield, it wouldn’t be long before the stasis field dropped.

Of course, he had no certainty about what the Endurus would do. If it had come to take the life energy stored up within Tiovan, it might simply vanish once that goal was complete. Maybe it would seek to drain the Gorgadar’s batteries at the same time.

On the other hand, the situation might be more complicated than Flint realised. It was always possible he’d completely misread events surrounding the ascendancy and the Shadows of Kilvus. The Kilvar might still be in thrall to the Endurus.

Another dark beam appeared and Flint shuddered at the pain of the death aura. Since his time in the chamber, he’d been able to handle the effects of death tech without a problem, so the fact that he could really feel the pain made him sure the intensity was turned all the way up.

“If those dark beams stop coming, it means the Endurus and the Kilvar are fighting,” said Larson.

“I can’t imagine it would be a long battle,” said Maddox.

“Captain Vance needs to get the hell off that wreck so we can get away from here,” said Fredericks.

“I’ve seen enough,” said Flint. “We’re heading back that way.”

He piloted the Gorgadar once more towards the wrecked warship, taking care that he didn’t accidentally bring the Kilvar vessel out of stasis. There was still no sign of Vance and the lack of comms was frustrating. Briefly, Flint wondered if it might be best to negate the zero-time around the enemy ship - just for a moment so that he might speak to Vance and learn of his progress towards the shuttle bay.

“Sir, Captain Vance is on the comms!” said Becerra. “His platoon is on the transport and they’re ready to depart.” She paused, listening. “He wants to speak with you.”

“Put him on the bridge speakers,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re on your way, Captain Vance?”

“Yes, sir, we should exit this wreck in the next few seconds,” said Vance. His voice sounded rougher than usual. “I learned something about Tiovan. I saw its warship.”

Vance didn’t normally speak unless he had something worth saying and Flint had an idea where this was heading, though he didn’t yet dare hope.

“You discovered where it’s located on that warship?” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. Tiovan’s spaceship is called Xivinar – it’s looks exactly like the Aeklu, only bigger.”

“Are you sure they’re identical, Captain Vance?” asked Larson

“Yes, ma’am, just the Xivinar is bigger like I said. A rectangular hull, one end a hemisphere. Full-length cuboids fixed to the sides. And a gun bigger than anyone would ever need, mounted on the topsides.”

“How can they be the same?” asked Flint.

“Sir, we analysed the Kilvar language while we were over here,” said Vance. “There’s a match between their symbols and those on the Ancidium.”

“Well, shit, that might explain how the two warships are identical,” said Flint. “Anyway, the time to think about it is later - get moving, Captain Vance. The Endurus is here and I want to get the hell away from it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vance exited the channel and, a couple of seconds later, his shuttle appeared on the Gorgadar’s sensors.

“Sir, here’s a 3D model of the Aeklu,” said Larson. “I called it up from our databanks. If the plans were the same between this and the Xivinar, we’ll know exactly where the bridge is located on the Kilvar vessel.”

Flint stared at the rotating image on his screen. He’d seen the Aeklu before, though only as a recording, rather than in the flesh.

“I always felt the Aeklu was the oldest of all the Laws of Ancidium,” said Larson distantly. “It had an age about it – maybe even more so than the Ancidium itself. Like it came from an earlier time.”

“And from the same damn construction yard as this Kilvar warship,” said Flint.

He was finding it hard to keep a lid on his anger. The answers to questions he hadn’t asked betrayed the extent of the manipulation to which humanity and the Daklan had been subjected. And that manipulation went much, much further – to the Meklon, the Balon and however many other species had been caught up in a war they didn’t want.

“The whys and wherefores can come later, sir,” said Larson. “We’ve been handed an opportunity and we can’t squander it.”

“You’re right, Commander,” said Flint. He clenched his jaw tightly for a moment and pushed the anger aside. “We have to extract Tiovan and deny the Endurus access to all that extra life energy.”

“I have the bridge location data for the Aeklu,” said Larson. “If we get a clear sight of the Xivinar, I’ll be able to target the extractor at the same place.”

“If the Endurus has sensors that can penetrate the dust outside this stasis field, we might find our own batteries being extracted, sir,” said Eastwood.

It was a risk and one that Flint was only borderline willing to take. He turned towards Larson. “What was that you told me before about the Expectancy Delta, Commander?” he asked.

“Statistical analysis indicates that the improbable victories carry an exceptional weighting in determining the outcome of a war,” said Larson at once.

“That’s what I remember you telling me,” said Flint. “I’ve heard that us working together does some good things to boost both of our Expectancy Deltas.”

“You heard that too, huh?” Larson thumbed over her shoulder. “I think it encompasses everyone here, sir.”

Flint smiled. “I know. That’s why we’re going to stick around long enough to extract that Shadow of Kilvus.”

“Captain Vance should be docked in the next minute, sir,” said Becerra.

One entire minute was longer than Flint could bear to wait and he repositioned the Gorgadar, both bringing it closer to the shuttle and lining up one of its bay entrances with the oncoming transport. In those few seconds, he tried to imagine how best to sway the coming encounter in his favour. It was unlikely he’d have any time to take stock, so the attack would need to be pinpoint accurate and the escape immediate.

A malicious voice whispered in his mind, telling him that if the Endurus could cast its death aura across many galaxies, surely it would possess a weapon that could simply disintegrate the Gorgadar without any effort whatsoever. Flint snarled inwardly and refused to believe such a possibility existed.

“Twenty seconds and the shuttle will be docked, sir,” said Becerra.

“Sir, I’ve discovered what happened to all that extra life energy our batteries couldn’t hold,” said Fredericks.

Such was the fear and excitement in the man’s voice that Flint twisted in his seat so that he could see his face. Fredericks was wide-eyed, like he was staring into the abyss and wondering if he could possibly resist what lay in the depths.

“Tell me,” said Flint.

“It was absorbed into our exium modules, sir.”

“What does that mean?” asked Flint.

Fredericks shook his head. “It means exactly what I said, sir. Our exium modules soaked up the excess energy.”

“But is that good or bad?” asked Flint, trying to keep his voice calm.

“The default position on unexpected interactions between exium and anything else is that it’s bad, sir.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Flint. “So what happens if we extract Tiovan?”

“Our batteries are full, sir. I have every expectation that the life energy will once again channel into our exium modules. Except this time, there’ll be a crapload of it, rather than just a little bit of overspill.”

“We don’t need this right now,” said Flint angrily. “Can we divert the life energy away from the Gorgadar’s batteries?” he asked. “So that it…I don’t know…dissipates around our hull?”

“No, sir,” said Fredericks. “The extractor hardware is designed to suck up every bit of available life energy. There’s no safety valve to vent the excess.”

“Captain Vance’s shuttle is now docked, sir,” said Becerra.

Flint could sense his crew waiting for his decision. It was a decision he wasn’t ready to make just yet, despite the pressure. “Have you run an audit on our exium modules to find out what effect the life energy had on them?”

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “The audit showed no changes whatsoever.” He exhaled loudly. “But, like I told you, we have no mechanism to dissipate that energy - so it’s gone somewhere.”

“How much time do you need to give me a definitive explanation on what will happen if we extract Tiovan?” asked Flint. “Hell, I’d settle for an educated guess.”

“I need to modify the coding on some of the monitoring tools, sir,” said Fredericks. “With help from Lieutenants Eastwood and Copeland, that might take ten or fifteen minutes.”

“We can’t wait ten or fifteen minutes, sir,” said Larson. “If we do, the Endurus will surely take that life energy before us.”

“I know.” Flint closed his eyes for a moment, hoping the right course of action would illuminate in his mind. It did not, and he was left with the options of running for the hills with the life energy extracted from Andralivus, or turning another card on an all-or-nothing higher or lower gamble.

Flint had changed from the man he was and the outcome was never in doubt.

“We’re going to extract Tiovan and handle whatever shit comes our way.”

Even as he spoke the words, Flint saw the time-locked dust particles, which were everywhere around the Gorgadar, resume travelling at their previous velocity. At the same moment, the pain of the death aura returned, perhaps worse than before.

This wasn’t a safe place to be and Flint thrust the controls away from him. The Gorgadar accelerated ferociously, its tactical screen showing no targets and no friendlies. Flint knew this situation was balanced on a knife-edge, but he was determined to double up on the mission’s success to date.

The Gorgadar sped into the darkness.

Chapter Eighteen

“Can we confirm the destruction of the Hades?” said Flint. The loss of the annihilator was the only explanation for its disappearance from the tactical, but he needed to be absolutely sure. “And find the Xivinar and the Endurus!”

“Our link to the Hades is active again, sir!” said Maddox. “It’s back on our network and its battle computer reports it is under attack!”

A green dot appeared on the tactical and Flint aimed the Gorgadar directly away from it. The Hades was known to the Kilvar and their sensors would be focused in that area.

“Sir! The Hades’s decay pulse is available!” yelled Maddox. “In a few seconds, the Gorgadar should be far enough away for a safe discharge!”

An image appeared fleetingly in Flint’s mind – an image in which his single order to fire the decay pulse would cut a swathe through what remained of the Kilvar fleet. Reluctantly, he discounted the idea.

“Hold fire, Lieutenant,” he said.

“Sir?”

“We need the Xivinar intact if we’re to accurately target the extractor,” said Flint. “If we turn its outer plating to dust, we’ll be relying on guesswork.”

“Yes, sir.”

Abruptly, the Hades disappeared from the tactical and Flint didn’t need telling that the annihilator had been destroyed. He brought the Gorgadar around in an arc, intending to pilot it closer to the last known position of the Xivinar.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Find that spaceship.”

“The available output from our ternium modules is falling, sir,” said Eastwood. “This is what the Endurus did to the Hades on our last encounter. The rate of decrease is high enough that I’d guess the enemy ship is somewhere within a million klicks.”

“A million klicks? Damnit,” said Flint. “And good spot, Lieutenant. That might be our best way to track the Endurus in this dust.”

A death pulse swept through the Gorgadar and Flint grunted at the unexpected increase in the pain his body was suffering. Such was the intensity of the death pulse that the feeds themselves seemed to darken, as though crushed by a physical presence. Or perhaps, Flint thought grimly with his heading pounding, it was his own vision which had been affected.

“Any casualties?” Flint shouted, his voice stronger than he thought it might be.

His crew had suffered countless attacks from death tech and they’d all spent time in the chamber. No one had died and the vigour of their curses was heartening.

“I’ve located the Xivinar!” shouted Garrett.

Flint’s eyes jumped to the tactical. The enemy warship was at ninety thousand kilometres and accelerating on a divergent heading to the Gorgadar, with a dozen or more smaller Kilvar vessels close by, Altering course, Flint set after his opponents.

“They’re getting ready to depart,” said Larson.

“Looks like,” said Flint.

He wondered briefly if the Kilvar were aware of the Endurus. Surely, they couldn’t have missed the ternium decay on their propulsion. Maybe the Shadow of Kilvus was, in fact, preparing to roll out the red carpet for the Endurus, rather than make a break into lightspeed.

“Oh shit!” said Burner. “We’ve got trouble.”

From out of nowhere, an additional target appeared on the tactical, the position of this one forming a triangle, with the Gorgadar and the Xivinar being the other two points. The size of this newly arrived vessel was beyond comprehension and a shiver of fear ran through Flint’s body.

“The Endurus,” he snarled, through the heightened intensity of the death aura.

Suddenly, the Xivinar and its escort ships came to a halt on the tactical. Meanwhile, on the Gorgadar’s feed, the dust outside had slowed to a crawl. Glancing at his console, Flint noticed that his warship’s output gauges had climbed significantly, while the velocity gauge couldn’t decide where to settle. At the same time, he became aware of a strained roar from the propulsion, as if the Gorgadar was hauling an object with the mass of an entire moon behind it.

“What the hell?” said Flint in alarm. “What’s happening here, folks?”

“Stasis!” said Fredericks. “The Endurus put everything in stasis!”

“What happened to that negation field we were generating?” asked Flint.

“We’re still generating it, sir,” said Fredericks. “But we’re being subjected to an immensely powerful stasis.”

Flint knew that zero-time wasn’t a completely accurate description - rather it meant that time had been slowed so much that it was effectively not moving as far as most conventional ways of measurement were concerned. The internal clock in an oblex core still functioned, for example, albeit at a vastly reduced rate.

And here was proof that not all stasis was equal – the Endurus was slowing time much closer to actual zero than a stasis field generated by an alliance ship. As a consequence, the Gorgadar’s passage through time was happening at a reduced rate, despite the negation field its exium modules were generating.

“The maximum output from our ternium modules is dropping fast now, sir,” said Eastwood. “I’m shifting some of the load, but that’s going to increase the depletion rate on our exium.”

“How can we fix this?” asked Flint, watching the tactical. So far, the Endurus hadn’t moved.

“Our negation field commands are no more sophisticated than on or off, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’m trying to figure out a way to modify the output. In truth, I don’t know if we’re at the limit of our hardware.”

“This is exium, you’re talking about, Lieutenant Fredericks,” said Flint through gritted teeth. “We are not yet close to exploring its limits. Find. A. Way.”

“Yes, sir, I’m on it.”

Flint banked the Gorgadar to starboard, aiming to put some distance between his spaceship and the Endurus. His perception – aside from the confused readouts of his instrumentation - was that his journey through time was happening at a normal rate. However, Flint knew that as far as the Endurus was concerned, the Gorgadar was travelling much, much slower. If the enemy vessel changed position, he was expecting it to happen almost like it was teleporting from place to place.

“Any indication the Endurus has detected us?” asked Flint. The intervening distance had climbed to seventy thousand kilometres, which was a couple of galaxies closer than he wanted. Elsewhere, the Xivinar was at eighty thousand kilometres.

“There’s no outward sign of it, sir,” said Garrett. “I think we’ll know it when it happens.”

A second death pulse hit the Gorgadar. Flint felt the pain, but he also felt that he wasn’t anywhere close to dying - as if his body had become so accustomed to these attacks that it was no longer threatened by them.

“Sir, it’s my duty to suggest we exit the arena by mode 3,” said Larson.

“You know that’s not going to happen, Commander,” said Flint. “Not yet.”

“Yes, sir, I know it.”

Without warning, the huge red dot representing the Endurus on the tactical moved. It didn’t head towards the Xivinar as Flint had anticipated. Instead, it raced with shocking speed directly for the Gorgadar.

Flint cursed as it happened. The Endurus positioned itself less than fifty kilometres from the Gorgadar’s portside flank and matched velocity. So close was the enemy vessel that Flint had no idea if he was staring at its flank, its underside or some other part of its hull. The section he could see was a slightly curving cliff of the darkest grey that went on and on, up and down, forward and back.

Recalling the time when the Endurus first emerged from its stone shell, Flint pictured the tall flanks, the curved nose and the flat stern. He’d seen no sign of weaponry through his escape shuttle’s sensors and he saw none here.

The lack of visible guns and missile clusters was more a worry than a reassurance. Flint could understand explosives, just like he could understand gauss slugs and particle beams. Whatever weaponry the Endurus was equipped with – presuming it had more than just its death aura – was a complete unknown, and Flint didn’t enjoy surprises at the best of times, let alone when the fate of his entire species hung in the balance.

“Seems like that warship is more interested in us than the Xivinar,” said Maddox nervously.

“Am I right in thinking this confirms the Kilvar and the Endurus are still buddies?” asked Garrett.

Flint didn’t take his eyes off the sensors. “I think this confirms that the Endurus is interested to learn how the Gorgadar isn’t in total zero-time,” he said. Another thought came and he cursed himself for his earlier belief that the enemy might ignore his warship. “And I reckon the Endurus would like to know how come we aren’t dead.”

A third death pulse came and Flint bared his teeth in defiance. He raised his middle finger and aimed it at the portside feed. “Screw you,” he said.

“Take your hands off the controls, sir,” said Larson. “Maybe we should try to convince the Endurus that we are dead.”

Flint agreed and made no further changes of course. If the Endurus believed only corpses remained on the Gorgadar, maybe it would return to its business with the Xivinar. Unfortunately, the Xivinar was Flint’s target as well, and his recent alterations to the Gorgadar’s heading meant the Kilvar vessel wasn’t nearly close enough to land an accurate extractor shot on its bridge. The dust particles were thinning, but the sensors were still having a hard time.

The Endurus didn’t buy Flint’s attempt at subterfuge.

“Sir, the enemy has made another attempt to lock us into total stasis,” said Fredericks. “Our passage through time slowed again and the radius of our negation field has dropped significantly – it now barely extends outside the Gorgadar’s hull.”

On Flint’s monitoring panel, the output gauges were all pointing right. He also noticed that the ternium modules were only generating seventy percent of their usual maximum, which meant the exium was carrying all the extra load.

“I’ve had a change of mind, sir,” said Larson. “I don’t think the Endurus is fooled by our efforts to play dead. I think it’s going to keep strengthening its stasis generation until we’re locked in zero-time.”

“I think you’re right,” said Flint. “And maybe whatever it is that’s running that spaceship will want to find out exactly what kind of species is so resistant to its death tech.”

“Time to cut and run,” said Larson.

Flint nodded and tapped his finger on the tactical screen, selecting a destination far away.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, pressing his thumb against the SRT button on the controls.

The Gorgadar’s sensor feeds went blank for a split second and then they resumed. Flint swore when he realised that his warship hadn’t gone anywhere and the Endurus was still sitting fifty kilometres portside.

The overwhelming disparity between the Gorgadar and this opponent threatened Flint with despair. He’d been low before and had come out the other side stronger than ever, and he refused to accept this was a situation without hope.

“I need answers! Why did our mode 3 fail?” he shouted. “Lieutenant Fredericks – what news on our exium modules? How can we counteract this stasis?”

“Sir, the most likely explanation for the SRT failure is because we were attempting to lightspeed into another area of stasis,” said Eastwood. “We know from experience that won’t work.”

Flint tipped his head back. “This means the Endurus has created a zero-time sphere that could fill an entire solar system.”

“Yes, sir,” said Eastwood. “Maybe even bigger – we can’t begin to guess what kind of limits that warship might have.”

“Warm up the gateway,” said Flint. “Pick a place far from here – I don’t care where it is.”

Eastwood said nothing for a moment and then he cursed. “Sir, you’re aware the Gorgadar’s gateway hardware relies on depleting the tenixite stored in its underside bay. That bay is full, but the hardware isn’t recognizing the presence of tenixite.”

“The Endurus has drained the ore,” said Flint in understanding. He clenched a fist and struggled with an urge to smash it into his console. “Can you make the gateway activate by tapping into our exium modules?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, sir,” said Eastwood. “Oh crap, there’s another problem - our monitoring tools have just reported a focused scan directed at the place where our portside exium modules are installed.”

That was the moment it struck Flint exactly how much his gamble had failed. Not only was he on the brink of losing the life energy stored within Tiovan, but he was also about to lose his warship too. Even worse, the focused scan on the exium modules suggested the Endurus had discovered a tech onboard the Gorgadar that it was interested in.

The Endurus has not mastered exium.

Though it was a revelation which should have given Flint hope for the alliance, his situation was such that he had no cause to celebrate. The stakes had climbed significantly – if the Endurus managed to obtain a sample of exium and learned how to replicate it, the threat posed by this monstrous spaceship would become greater than ever. It would become unstoppable.

And the blame for it all would fall squarely on Flint’s shoulders.

Chapter Nineteen

Flint was not a man who gave up and his mind spun with fragments of different ideas. A plan came, but it wouldn’t work with the Gorgadar slowed by near-stasis.

“Lieutenants Fredericks, Eastwood and Copeland – I’ve got us into this, and you’re going to get us out,” said Flint. “The mission will fail if you can’t figure out a way to counteract this stasis. Having witnessed what the Endurus is capable of, the alliance desperately needs us to escape from here with the life energy we’re storing. If we can extract Tiovan as well, so much the better. The Endurus cannot be allowed those additional resources.”

“Still working on it, sir,” said Fredericks.

“Any progress?”

“Maybe.”

Flint knew when it was time to back off and he took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I could target the Endurus with missiles, sir?” asked Maddox. “It might give them something to think about.”

“No,” said Flint. “If we’re going to launch an attack, I’d rather it was something that is going to be effective. I have a feeling the Endurus won’t be harmed by conventional explosives.”

“What about the decay pulse, sir?” Maddox pressed. “It’s ready to discharge.”

“It won’t harm the Endurus, Lieutenant. We’ve seen that already. All it’ll do is wreck the Xivinar, without killing Tiovan, and at the same time prevent us from aiming our focused extractor.”

“Damn, there’s got to be something,” said Maddox. “What about our nose beam?”

“I’m sure that’ll put a nice, round hole in the Endurus,” said Flint. “But we don’t have anything to follow up with, and I’m equally sure the enemy vessel would take direct action to prevent us discharging the particle beam for a second time.”

As he’d done on so many occasions before, Lieutenant Fredericks came up with the goods.

“Sir, I’ve located a part of the control system coding that ties the exium output to a constant value during the generation of stasis or negation!” he said excitedly.

“Can you remove the constant?” asked Flint.

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks.

“And that will allow us to create a stronger negation field?”

“Yes, sir.” Fredericks sounded pained. “However, there are several thousand lines of code which refer to the same constant.”

“So just increase the value and we’ll see if it works,” said Flint.

“That’s what I’ll do, sir, but there’s a real chance of unforeseen consequences.”

Flint wanted to get the hell on with it and his impatience made it hard to keep his voice even.

“Such as?” he asked.

“An unknown multiplier somewhere in the code that exaggerates the effect of the replacement value.”

“We can’t wait any longer, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “You have sixty seconds to decide on a replacement for the constant. We’re going to break out of this stasis.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If we break the stasis, it’s likely to prompt the Endurus into that direct action you were talking about, sir,” said Larson.

“I know,” said Flint. “That’s why we need a head start.” He smiled thinly. “At what distance can you guarantee a hit on the Xivinar’s bridge with our extractor?”

“Twenty thousand klicks,” said Larson promptly. “Any further out and I can promise you a hit on the Xivinar itself, but not on the bridge.”

“You’ll have exactly twenty thousand klicks,” said Flint. “Don’t miss.”

“I never do, sir.”

“I’ve chosen a suitable replacement value for the previous constant in our stasis negation code, sir,” said Fredericks.

“I hope you didn’t err on the side of caution,” said Flint. “We’re going to get one chance at this.”

“No, sir – I chose a number I thought was way too high and then I doubled it. We’re likely to see anomalies on our exium modules and some possible depletions.”

“Life on the edge,” said Burner. “It never changes.”

“Hell, no,” said Flint. He glanced at the tactical screen. The Xivinar was sixty-five thousand kilometres away. “Listen up, folks - here’s the plan.”

He quickly outlined what he intended.

“I can see a couple of loose ends,” said Eastwood.

“We’re facing the Endurus, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Maybe none of this will work.”

“Sir, there has been an attempt to inject some code into our exium control modules,” said Lieutenant Copeland urgently. “Our onboard systems isolated the code.”

“The first attempt won’t be the last,” said Flint. “It’s time to get things moving. Lieutenant Fredericks, are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Replace the constant.”

“That’s done,” Fredericks confirmed. “Our negation field should now be much stronger than before.”

“Increasing the field radius to one hundred thousand klicks,” said Eastwood.

The moment he heard the words, Flint tapped his finger onto the tactical, selecting an SRT destination. Without hesitating, he pressed the mode 3 activation button and clenched his teeth as he waited to find out if the Gorgadar would enter lightspeed.

A familiar double thumping of stacked transitions followed the SRT activation and the sensor feeds went blank. Flint didn’t wait for them to come back online – he requested power from the engines and he heard the Gorgadar accelerate. Flashing lights on the control panel in front of him vied for his attention with a variety of unexpected readings, but Flint didn’t spend time looking.

“Sensors coming online!” shouted Burner.

The bulkhead screen lit up and the feeds appeared. Outside, the dust was travelling at what Flint hoped was its expected velocity.

“Locate the Xivinar and the Endurus!” he yelled. “Quickly!”

“Xivinar located, sir!” said Burner. “Our negation field has brought it out of stasis and it’s accelerating along its previous course.”

This was what Flint had anticipated and he had the Gorgadar already in pursuit.

“Range to target: twenty-five thousand kilometres,” said Larson. “We’re gaining on them, sir.”

Flint realised he’d misjudged. Having intended to bring the Gorgadar out of its short-range transit at a distance of ten thousand kilometres from the Xivinar, he saw that the enemy vessel was travelling at a greater velocity than he’d thought. Even with the Gorgadar under maximum acceleration, it was going to require a few seconds to close the gap.

“Endurus located, sir!” said Garrett. “It’s right where we left it and not moving.”

“We’ve had another intrusion attempt, sir,” said Copeland. “The enemy code has been isolated.” She cursed. “Two additional intrusions also isolated.”

Flint had a good idea what was likely to happen with those intrusions. In a short time, the Endurus would be making hundreds of penetration attempts and eventually it would find a way to defeat the Gorgadar’s defences.

“Commander Larson, any way you can get that shot off early?” said Flint.

“The extractor has a twenty-second cooldown, sir,” she replied. “At our current rate of acceleration, we’ll be twenty thousand klicks from the Xivinar in the next eighteen seconds.”

“Best hold the shot.”

“Yes, sir, I will.”

Flint watched the sensor feeds anxiously, wondering what Tiovan would do. The Shadow of Kilvus had survived for centuries, and that made him suspect the creature had a few tricks up its sleeve.

Ah shit, I’ve missed the obvious.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, reduce the radius of our negation sphere to fifteen thousand klicks,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. Our negation sphere is now at fifteen thousand klicks.”

Immediately, the Xivinar was placed back into the stasis field generated by the Endurus, and Flint experienced a great satisfaction that he’d out-thought his opponent.

“Ready on the extractor, Commander,” said Flint.

Travelling within its own negation field, the Gorgadar closed the distance with the Xivinar in a few short seconds. Just when the Kilvar vessel was about to be brought into normal time, allowing Commander Larson to fire the extractor, the Endurus ruined the party.

“The Endurus is trying to crush our negation again, sir,” said Fredericks. “The radius of our sphere has fallen to less than two thousand klicks.”

Flint saw it happen on the feeds, even as Lieutenant Fredericks shouted the warning. The dust particles outside were suddenly travelling at no more than a crawl and the Gorgadar’s propulsion had developed the same laboured note as before.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, we need a bigger number in the control coding,” Flint said. “Much bigger.”

He allowed his gaze to fall on his control panel. The output gauges were all showing crazy high readings – the kind of crazy high readings that indicated anomalies were likely to start appearing on the exium modules in the very near future.

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’m entering a new number that’s a dozen times larger than it was before. I won’t bother reminding you what might come of this.”

“Whatever the consequences, we’ll deal with them,” said Flint.

Even as he was speaking, the radius of the Gorgadar’s negation field increased drastically and the Xivinar was once again brought out of zero-time.

“Oh crap,” said Eastwood. “Six of our exium modules have runaway anomalies and a further two might be on the brink of criticality or shutdown.”

“Commander Larson, fire the extractor,” said Flint.

“Extractor fired,” said Larson immediately.

“Please confirm a successful hit on target.”

“I can confirm a—” She tailed off. “Shit.”

Almost every one of Flint’s monitoring tools had gone haywire. Readings climbed beyond anything he’d seen before and almost every electronic needle was jammed on one hundred percent. His eyes jumped to the Gorgadar’s life batteries. They were already full and now they flashed red with a fault code Flint didn’t recognise.

At the same time, Flint heard a roaring sound from the propulsion that rose quickly in volume and then transformed into the familiar inhalation he’d heard before. Except this time, that inhalation was deep, not hollow, and there was no hint of slumbering in it. This was the breath of a god in its prime.

Such was the power of the sound that the skin across Flint’s entire body tingled with an intensity he wouldn’t have believed possible. With a shock, he realised the tingling wasn’t a reaction to the inhalation – rather it was a separate event, and he had no idea what was causing it. He tightened his grip on the controls and tensed his muscles, but the prickling of his skin didn’t lessen. It wasn’t unpleasant, but nor was it something he wanted to last.

Flint knew he couldn’t wait for it to pass – the situation with the Kilvar and the Endurus demanded his attention. He banked the Gorgadar, bringing it onto a heading that would take it away from the Xivinar and its escort vessels. That was a fight he no longer needed and, in a few moments, the enemy warships were once more stranded in the stasis field.

“Where’s the Endurus?” said Flint. He should have been agitated but he felt strangely calm. The tingling wasn’t fading at all. Rather, it seemed to be sinking deeper into his flesh and Flint rolled his shoulders to find out if that would help him shake the feeling. It didn’t.

Without warning, the Endurus appeared directly off the Gorgadar’s starboard flank, this time at a five-hundred-kilometre distance. The enemy ship emitted a death pulse and Flint hardly felt it. A second death pulse followed the first, with no greater effect.

“Any casualties?” Flint shouted. His voice was clear and completely unaffected by the attacks.

“No casualties, sir,” said Becerra.

“The intrusions have stopped,” said Lieutenant Copeland.

“And the anomalies have vanished,” said Eastwood in disbelief. “The two critical exium modules are stable again.”

“But all the output gauges are stuck on one hundred percent,” said Fredericks. “I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

By this moment, the breathing sound of superstressed exium had reduced in volume, and once again Flint recognized the sound of the Gorgadar’s propulsion. Now, however, it had an accompanying note that he couldn’t quite distinguish, like a peculiar whispering at the extents of his hearing.

“Sir, we need to get out of here,” said Larson.

Flint agreed. He didn’t know what had just happened, but the hunt for an explanation would have to wait. The Gorgadar was travelling at four thousand kilometres per second and the Endurus was matching pace. Flint attempted another maximum range mode 3 transit and it failed like the first one.

Turning towards the starboard feed, Flint thought he saw a darkening of the enemy vessel’s hull. He narrowed his eyes and realised it was more like a cloak, growing around the Endurus. Rapidly, that cloak darkened, concealing the alloys beneath.

“I think we’re about to discover another of the Endurus’s capabilities, sir,” said Fredericks. “The hull readings from that vessel are climbing – it’s warming up for a discharge.”

“I think you’re right,” said Flint. He racked his brains for a way to extract himself and his crew from this situation.

Only one idea came and he put it into action.

“Lieutenant Larson, it’s time to find out what happens when we fire the Gorgadar’s particle beam at the Endurus.”

“Yes, sir.”

Flint shifted the control bars and the Gorgadar turned.

Chapter Twenty

Still travelling at high velocity, the Gorgadar rotated rapidly and its nose beam came onto target.

“Let’s cut that warship open, Commander,” said Flint, when the Gorgadar was at a diagonal to the Endurus and the nose beam was pointing at the enemy hull two thousand kilometres ahead.

Larson’s eyes gleamed dangerously. “Yes, sir. Particle beam fired.”

Crackling energy lanced from the Gorgadar’s nose housing and it struck the plating of the enemy vessel. Flint maintained the rotation of his spaceship and the beam sliced along the Endurus’s hull.

“Have that!” yelled Burner.

After a couple of seconds, the particle beam cut out, revealing the gratifying sight of a thousand-kilometre opening along the opposing warship’s armour. Flint hoped the beam had burned all the way through, but he couldn’t be sure. While the affected area was glowing with heat, the coalescing darkness suppressed the glare and the Gorgadar’s sensors couldn’t penetrate. And, when Flint stared, he was suddenly aware of how insignificant the wound appeared in comparison to the monumental size of the Endurus.

Still, it was something.

Judging by its otherwise pristine hull, Flint suspected the Endurus hadn’t suffered damage any time recently and he wondered if the spaceship would take off in order to assess what had befallen it. Instead, the darkening continued and Flint pushed the controls as far as they would go. He couldn’t imagine being able to outrun the Endurus, but he had little else to try.

“The enemy hull readings have stabilised, sir,” said Fredericks. “Whatever’s coming, it’ll happen—”

The Endurus emitted a pulse of a kind the Gorgadar’s sensors didn’t recognize. Flint saw an ovoid of blue appear around his warship and his eyes jumped straight from the feeds to the reserve gauge for the energy shield. That gauge hadn’t shifted from one hundred percent.

“What was that?” asked Flint.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Eastwood. “The amount of energy released was incredible. I think it was a disintegration wave – like our decay pulse, only many thousands of times more potent.” He swore in disbelief. “Maybe a million times more potent.”

“Yet it didn’t kill us,” said Flint.

The Gorgadar was still accelerating strongly and the Endurus was keeping pace without apparent effort.

“Five seconds on the particle beam,” said Larson.

“Give them a second taste, Commander,” said Flint, adjusting the Gorgadar’s heading without reducing velocity.

“Three…two…one. Particle beam: fired,” said Larson.

Just like last time, Flint turned the Gorgadar during the couple of seconds before the beam cut out. He watched expectantly.

“Not a mark,” said Flint in dismay.

“The Ancidium can switch its hull defences on and off, sir,” said Eastwood. “It seems the Endurus can do the same thing.”

“Even against our particle beam,” said Flint.

He needed a break. Something had happened to the Gorgadar after the extraction of Tiovan and Flint desperately wanted the time to run an audit. Not only that, he was sure something had happened to him as well. The tingling had lessened, but it hadn’t gone away and he felt it throughout his body.

“There’s another build up on the enemy hull, sir,” said Fredericks. “This is a different kind of energy and again it’s something I don’t recognize.”

“We need to get away from here,” said Flint. He poked the tactical screen and attempted for a third time to activate an SRT. Once again, nothing happened and the Gorgadar remained within touching distance of the Endurus.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we just went past eighteen thousand kilometres per second, sir,” said Eastwood.

When Flint’s eyes were occupied elsewhere, he usually relied on the propulsion sound to gauge a warship’s velocity. The Gorgadar’s engines hardly sounded strained at all. A check of the instrumentation told Flint that the output gauges were still at one hundred percent and he wondered again what was going on with his spaceship.

“I need answers, folks,” he said. “We extracted Tiovan and the overspill of the life energy has done something to the Gorgadar. Hell, it’s done something to me as well.”

The other crew members confirmed likewise, so Flint knew he wasn’t alone. Doubtless, Captain Vance and his soldiers had also been affected and Flint hoped it was nothing serious.

That was a worry for another day. Right now, his warship was nudging past twenty thousand kilometres per second and the Endurus was having no trouble keeping up.

“The energy build up has plateaued on their hull, sir,” said Eastwood.

Flint didn’t couldn’t think of a way to avoid whatever was coming. He watched, expecting the Gorgadar’s energy shield to light up again. It didn’t happen, but the lights darkened on the bridge and stayed dark for three or four seconds before they strengthened once more.

“The Endurus tried to shut us down, sir,” said Fredericks.

“I hoped it might have given up already,” said Flint. His calmness from earlier was gone and he felt clean, fresh anger returning.

“Not a chance of that happening, sir,” said Fredericks. “Not in my opinion. Whoever or whatever is aboard that spaceship – assuming the Endurus isn’t itself a discrete entity – they’ve found a hundred things about the Gorgadar that interest them.”

“Why did the shutdown fail?” asked Flint.

“I was checking it out while I was talking, sir,” said Fredericks. “Well damn, it looks as if the shutdown didn’t fail after all. That last pulse completely drained our ternium modules – they’re at zero percent of their expected output.”

“That means—” Flint started.

“Yes, sir. We’re running entirely on exium.”

Flint’s mind spun. Exium was usually installed as a tiny fraction of the overall mass of a warship and acted as a booster for ternium, as well as holding the latter material in a superstressed state. And while Flint had a strong suspicion that the Gorgadar was packed with exium, he was sure that it was still only a small percentage of the warship’s mass. And yet here it was, doing all the heavy lifting.

“Are the Gorgadar’s exium modules changed somehow? Flint asked. “Has all that life energy altered them?”

“That’s an excellent question, sir,” said Fredericks. “And I think you might be onto something.”

“If our exium has changed state – into something new and better - it’s even more critical that we escape from the Endurus,” said Flint. He had a sudden idea how that might be accomplished. “Lieutenant Fredericks – you discovered how to uncap the output of our exium modules in order to create a more powerful stasis negation,” he said. “Will the same method work in order to create an even stronger zero-time field?”

“It’ll work, sir,” said Fredericks. “However, you saw what happened to our exium modules the first time – it may happen again.”

“You can see the readouts as well as I can, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “The moment our exium modules absorbed the overspill life energy, the anomalies vanished and the critical modules returned to stable.”

“Yes, sir, but those are two limited examples of—” Fredericks swore and then he laughed. “Let’s continue the battlefield testing.”

“When we first encountered the Endurus, it escaped the stasis field created by the Hades,” said Becerra. “What’s different this time?”

“The Endurus was slowed by our stasis,” Flint reminded her. “If we can slow it again, we’ll have time to put some distance between us.”

Flint cast his mind briefly back to when the Hades’s exium modules went critical and created the enormous stasis sphere. The Endurus had been affected by that sphere, yet it hadn’t created a negation field to counter the effects. Flint wondered if the enemy vessel’s onboard systems had taken time to charge up or come online. Perhaps the Endurus would, at that moment, have been vulnerable to an attack from the Ancidium.

He shook away the thoughts. The past was in the past, and the Endurus was here and now.

“The power readings from the enemy hull are climbing again,” said Eastwood. “Whoa - those readings are already past what they were at the time of the last discharge. Still climbing. Six hundred percent. Two thousand percent! This is crazy!”

“I don’t think we’re going to survive what’s coming next, sir,” said Larson.

“No, we’re not,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Fredericks – lock that bastard in zero-time. No half measures – I’m sure we’ll only have one chance.”

“No half measures,” said Fredericks.

“Do it,” said Flint.

Immediately, the Endurus disappeared from the starboard sensor feeds. However, it remained on the tactical as a huge red dot, falling rapidly behind the Gorgadar. A glance was enough for Flint to see that, incredibly, the enemy vessel was still travelling, albeit at a vastly reduced velocity.

“We’re holding a half-million klick stasis field, sir,” said Fredericks. “And damn, our exium modules are all stable.”

The Endurus wasn’t done. Five seconds after it had been placed in near stasis, the massive spaceship reappeared next to the Gorgadar, once again at a matched velocity.

“What the hell?” said Flint.

“The enemy countered our stasis field with an even bigger negation aura, sir,” said Eastwood. “And then they followed us in mode 3. Their hull readings are still sky-high.”

“I thought I said no half measures, Lieutenant Fredericks.”

“That you did, sir,” said Fredericks. He didn’t usually sound angry, but he did now. “I’m channelling more power into our stasis field.”

For a second time, the Endurus disappeared from the sensor feed and was once more left far in the Gorgadar’s wake. Flint banked immediately, unsure if a variation in heading would do anything to throw off the pursuit. The velocity gauge had reached twenty-two-thousand kilometres per second a short time ago and it was no longer increasing. Never had Flint imagined that such an enormous velocity would seem inadequate, yet here he was.

“The Endurus isn’t moving,” said Flint. “We’ve locked it down.”

“I increased the power to our negation field by five thousand percent, sir,” said Fredericks. He sounded shocked, like he expected to be dead. “Even if we haven’t locked the Endurus down completely, we might have slowed its onboard systems enough that it won’t be able to generate a stronger negation field before we’re out of here.”

Flint did some fast workings in his head. “At our current rate of travel, the Endurus will fall out of our half-million-klick stasis field in the next ten seconds.”

“Yes, sir. I could increase the radius to a million kilometres, but that’s an eightfold increase in volume.”

“Double the radius,” said Flint at once.

“Yes, sir. Radius doubled.”

The drama which usually accompanied excessive use of an exium module was nowhere to be found. All the gauges were pinned at one hundred percent, but otherwise Flint saw no indication that a catastrophic failure was imminent. Having been so long accustomed to the vagaries of exium, Flint remained wary.

An investigation would have to come later. For the moment, the increase in the stasis sphere radius had bought him an additional twenty-two seconds of thinking time, and he needed to come up with a plan.

“Attempting an SRT,” he said, more out of hope than expectation.

The Gorgadar had no ternium drive left to fire, but the warship’s control systems automatically diverted the SRT request onto the exium modules. Flint held in the activation button and the warship shuddered. The feeds went blank and he didn’t know if it had entered lightspeed or not, so he kept his thumb pressed down. The second shudder – representing either failure of the transition or re-entry to normal space – didn’t come for a long time.

When he felt the usual faint nausea, Flint finally released the SRT button.

“Where are those sensors?” he yelled.

“Coming up, sir,” said Burner.

The feeds appeared, all darkness and nothing else.

“No dust,” said Larson. “The SRT worked.”

“That mode 3 must have held for eight or nine seconds,” said Flint. “We’ve come a long way.”

“A long way doesn’t seem like it’ll be enough, sir,” said Larson.

“You’re right. Be ready for another SRT, folks,” said Flint.

He selected maximum range from the tactical screen and sent the Gorgadar into lightspeed again. Counting the seconds in his head, Flint reached twelve by the time he felt the second transition.

“We have two more in the tank and then all four modules will be on cooldown,” said Lieutenant Copeland.

“Better safe than sorry,” said Flint. “My appetite for risk is also on cooldown.”

The third SRT lasted for thirteen seconds, though Flint wasn’t sure if the difference was down to his own inaccuracy or caused by a variation in the hardware. He didn’t want to use the last available mode 3 and he piloted the Gorgadar at high velocity in a direction chosen at random.

“Scan for the Endurus,” Flint said, once the sensors had come back online. “And contact Fleet Admiral Recker.”

“I have the direction of travel data from our navigational computer, but we won’t locate the Endurus from this distance, sir,” said Becerra.

“Fine – keep up the local area scans,” said Flint. “If that spaceship reappears, we’re going to trap it in zero-time again.”

“If we’re to maintain our stasis field, I’d recommend decreasing the radius of it significantly,” said Fredericks. “Fifty thousand klicks sounds like a good number.”

“Fifty thousand klicks it is,” Flint agreed. “And we’re not going to wait around here any longer. Pick a destination – somewhere that will require a day or longer to reach – and take us into lightspeed.”

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks.

A sudden thought made Flint straighten in alarm. “Was the Gorgadar fitted with lightspeed masking tech during its last refit?”

“Yes, sir.”

Flint blew out his breath. “Good.”

“I’ve entered coordinates and our exium drive is readying to fire,” said Fredericks.

“How long before we enter lightspeed?” asked Flint.

“Three minutes like before, sir. The Gorgadar’s processing cores are unaffected by the change in our exium modules. Once we install a few dozen oblex cores and get them talking properly to the Lavorix hardware, I’m sure we’ll see some significant improvements.”

“That’s good.”

“The potential is incredible, sir.”

Flint felt himself being drawn into a technical discussion he didn’t want to have right now. His attention was drawn by Lieutenant Garrett’s announcement that she was in contact with Fleet Admiral Recker on the Ancidium. She filled Recker in on the details. He didn’t stick around to chat – he knew the Gorgadar was in danger and didn’t want to be a distraction.

“One minute and we enter lightspeed,” said Fredericks.

Flint had been here before and he watched the timer as it counted down. Once the Gorgadar was at lightspeed, maybe he’d be able to relax a little. He gritted his teeth at the idea. The Endurus had seemingly no limitations and maybe it had the capability of attacking the Gorgadar at lightspeed.

“Twenty seconds,” said Fredericks.

The tension on the bridge was high and when Flint looked across at Larson, she had her jaw clenched. She turned his way and smiled, but it was tight and full of worry.

When the timer hit zero, the Gorgadar entered lightspeed. For several minutes, nobody spoke, as if they all had the same fear that the Endurus would soon be in pursuit.

After a time, when nothing untoward occurred, Flint started to believe that he and his crew had escaped from the Endurus – on this occasion, at least. The mission had been a success – more so given that nobody had anticipated exactly how difficult it would become.

Flint couldn’t allow himself to settle. He had questions and he hoped his crew would provide answers. It was time to think about what had happened to the Gorgadar.

Chapter Twenty-One

Flint kept his hands resting on the controls while he quickly played the recent events through in his mind. The engines hummed and the sharpness of the cold air burned the insides of his nostrils, yet without bringing any great clarity of thought.

Standing from his seat, Flint faced his crew. He saw shock, fear and uncertainty in their expressions, and he guessed they realised what a challenge this new opponent represented.

“I want ideas,” he said, addressing his entire crew. “Speculation, conjecture and guesswork are all acceptable. Hell, if you want to go ahead and pull something right out of your asses, and present it as fact, I’ll listen to what you say.”

“You likely touched on the truth earlier, sir,” said Lieutenant Eastwood. “When we absorbed the life energy, it altered the state of our exium modules. We’ve seen the result – the output from those modules has increased enormously and they appear to be utterly stable.”

“How did it happen? How did exium soak up the life energy?” Flint asked.

He realised he didn’t exactly know what life energy was. The whole idea of it seemed so vague and ephemeral, and the thought of extracting that energy from unwilling victims was appalling. Flint wasn’t sure he believed that living creatures had souls, but if real, tangible energy could be drained from the living and used for other purposes, maybe there was something beyond a mere physical existence. He took a breath and continued.

“The knowing may not be important right now, but it might help our understanding.”

“There’s nobody here can answer that, sir,” said Eastwood. “Not with any degree of certainty.”

“Can we replicate the…” Flint fumbled for the word. “The reaction?”

“I don’t know, sir, and that’s a phrase you’re probably going to hear spoken a lot,” said Fredericks. “When we fired the extractor, our exium was under great strain – you remember about the runaway anomalies and the two critical modules. It’s possible – hell, I’m going to come out and say certain – that we’d need similar conditions for anything like this to happen again.”

“We’ll not be doing this in a lab anytime soon,” said Eastwood.

“So the Gorgadar is unique,” said Flint.

“At the moment,” said Fredericks. “It’s possible the Ancidium could recreate the same conditions in one of its construction areas. We haven’t even begun exploring the limits of what that vessel can do.”

Flint shivered and he wasn’t sure how much of it was down to the tingling he still felt from before. “Does the absorption of the life energy enable this warship to do something it couldn’t do before? Other than create much stronger stasis and negation fields?”

“We have a power supply that is – from what we’ve seen – vastly more capable than anything which has gone before,” said Eastwood. “The Gorgadar might not be designed to effectively use that energy, but you can be damn sure the alliance will construct something which can.”

“That doesn’t help us now, does it?” said Flint.

“No, sir, it does not.” Eastwood hesitated. “And what I saw of the Endurus during our last encounter makes me more terrified than I’ve ever been. Way back when I was on Captain Recker’s ship and we were being chased by the Galactar, and where every planet had been sucked dry by Lavorix extractors, I thought nothing could ever be worse. The Endurus is worse. It put a volume the size of a solar system into zero-time – a sphere billions of kilometres across, that made the Gorgadar’s own stasis field tiny in comparison. And the death aura…I never would have thought it possible.”

Flint watched Eastwood shake his head in disbelief and fear. That was when it really struck home exactly how great was the disparity between the Endurus and the alliance’s own technology.

“Worst of all is how little we know, sir,” said Fredericks. “The enemy ramped up the power of its attacks three times, all while maintaining that zero-time field. It’s possible the Endurus wasn’t even trying.”

“From what we know, that warship was effectively undefeatable even before the Kilvar gifted it all that life energy,” said Larson.

Flint chewed his lip in thought. “Alsar-9 told me there were only five Shadows of Kilvus. We’ve extracted two of them, which means the Endurus has no more than three. Maybe it only has two and maybe there’s another Shadow of Kilvus out there, wondering what the hell happened to the rest of the Kilvar fleet.”

“What are you saying, sir?” asked Garrett.

“I’m saying the Gorgadar has absorbed two-fifths of the known total of life energy,” Flint said. He grimaced. “And yet it’s clear that we were no more than a minnow swimming alongside a shark.”

“The Endurus has a greater mass than many planets, sir,” said Eastwood. “Even if most of that mass is plain unstressed ternium, it has incredible energy generation.”

“But why did it lay dormant for so long?” Flint persisted. “It was enormously potent already, so why did it need the life energy?”

“You believe the life energy allows the Endurus to do something that it couldn’t do before?” said Larson.

“It would make sense,” said Flint.

“And you’re asking yourself if the Gorgadar can now do the same thing.”

“I’m asking myself if the Ancidium can do the same thing,” said Flint. “When we return, we’re going to transfer the energy from our storage containers.”

“I don’t think the energy absorbed by our exium modules will transfer, sir,” said Eastwood. “The only way to make it available to the Ancidium would be to pull this warship apart and move those modules over.” He grunted. “Maybe that’s not even possible.”

“How come?” asked Flint.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Eastwood. “I wonder if the exium modules we’re carrying have become aligned with each other, such that extracting them will—” He stopped talking and shrugged. “It’s just a hunch I have, that’s all.”

“That’s something we’ll find out later,” said Flint. He drummed his fingers on the back of his chair. “We created a stasis field strong enough to hold the Endurus,” he said. “What’s stopping us putting the enemy in an even stronger stasis and holding it there forever?”

“I’m sure you can guess the answer to that, sir,” said Fredericks. “Nothing is infinite and it’s certain the Endurus has far deeper wells than we do. I think all we did was slow it down. We were lucky to escape.”

“And you’ll remember how the enemy vessel adapted to our particle beam, sir,” said Eastwood. “Next time, it’ll be ready for our stasis and we might need ten, fifty…a thousand times, as much power to accomplish the same thing. If it works at all.”

Flint had begun this conversation hoping for enlightenment and all he’d got out of it were more questions.

“I guess I was hoping for a clear path forward,” he said.

“You’re disappointed, sir,” said Eastwood. “I know a lot of what we’ve been talking about is negative, but what happened to the Gorgadar is incredible. If we can learn from it and do it quickly, this fight isn’t over.”

Flint smiled. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” A thought jumped into his head from nowhere. “Lieutenant Fredericks – in order to increase the strength of our stasis field, you were required to modify the control system coding.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Because those pre-set values you modified were acting as a limiter on the exium, to keep it operating within safe bounds.”

Fredericks stared for a moment as the cogs of his brain turned. His jaw dropped a fraction. “Every other system that is capable of running off exium has those same limiters.”

“And if we remove those limiters…” said Eastwood, his eyes wide.

“We might have a better idea of exactly what this warship is capable of, now that it’s charged with life energy,” said Flint.

“I’ll get on it right away, sir!” said Fredericks.

Flint wasn’t ready to sit. “Something happened to us when we extracted Tiovan,” he said.

“It was strange,” said Garrett. “Like getting a hundred tattoos all at once, but not so painful. I can still feel it, but inside rather than on my skin.”

“When the Endurus released those death pulses, I hardly felt a thing,” said Burner. “And I’m sure that asshole of a spaceship was making a real effort to kill us.”

“That’s what I thought too,” said Flint. “Yet we survived.”

Lieutenant Eastwood stood and rolled his left shoulder vigorously. “And this has been paining me for the last few years. Now, it feels as good as new.”

“You didn’t tell me there was something wrong with your shoulder,” said Larson accusingly.

“No, ma’am, I did not,” said Eastwood. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“You thought they’d kick you out of the military,” said Burner.

“That’s right.” Eastwood rolled his shoulder again. “But I guess it doesn’t matter now that it’s all better.”

Larson shook her head in disbelief. “A surgical bot could have fixed that up in twenty minutes.”

“Maybe I don’t believe in living forever.”

“We’re going to have a talk later, you and I,” said Larson.

Flint kept a straight face. “Lieutenant Becerra – I’d like to speak with Corporal Hendrix. Maybe she has some ideas.” He grimaced. “And it’s time I found out if we’ve suffered any casualties.”

“I have Corporal Hendrix on the comms, sir,” said Becerra a few moments later. “Bridge speakers?”

Flint nodded his agreement and waited until he heard the humming of the connection.

“Corporal Hendrix,” he said in greeting.

“What can I do for you, sir?” Her accent was unusual and Flint had never quite placed its origins.

“Any casualties to report?”

“No, sir. You’re about to ask me about what happened when you extracted the Shadow of Kilvus.”

Flint wasn’t sure how Hendrix had known about that, though Becerra generally kept Vance and his soldiers updated.

“That’s exactly what I was about to ask.”

Hendrix laughed softly. “I don’t know, and the medical bot doesn’t know either. One thing I did find is that the effective age of everyone I’ve plugged that bot into has fallen by about ten years. A couple of the platoon had early indicators of cancer that I’d have normally recommended they get checked out once we returned to a medical facility, but those indicators are now gone.”

“And I believe we’re now practically immune to death tech,” said Flint.

“We noticed that too, sir.”

“If you find out anything else, let me know,” said Flint.

“Will do.”

Flint cut the channel. Now that he thought about it, he did feel better than he had before, even with the ongoing tingling sensation. Until he’d spoken with Corporal Hendrix, he’d been putting it down to the absence of the death aura. He glanced at Larson.

“Are you wondering if we look any younger?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

She peered closely at Flint. “You don’t look any different.” Larson grinned. “If it’s going to happen, perhaps it’s a slow process.”

“I’m like Lieutenant Eastwood – I don’t know if I want to live forever.”

Larson’s smile faded. “I just want to see what living’s like when there’s no more fighting to be done.”

“Me too.” Flint found it hard to take his eyes away. “And that time’s going to come.”

“One day, huh?”

Flint thought he should say something else, but he couldn’t think what. Larson smiled and turned once more to her console, leaving Flint with a feeling that he’d missed an opportunity.

Damnit.

A shout from behind drew Flint’s attention and he turned to find out what Lieutenant Fredericks had discovered.

Chapter Twenty-Two

From his expression, Lieutenant Fredericks didn’t know if he should be excited or frustrated. “Sir, Lieutenant Eastwood and I have been going through the control system code, removing the safe limit constants, and replacing them with uncapped values.”

“Do you have any test routines available that will tell you what the difference is between the capped and uncapped output of our exium modules?” asked Flint.

“The only tests available are those which the shipyard technicians run as part of their final pre-sign off checks,” said Fredericks. “Most of those are designed to push the hardware to a set limit and hold it there for a short time. If the hardware passes the test, it’s signed off.”

“Testing to a set limit won’t tell us much,” said Flint.

“No, sir. However, I can modify the coding for those test routines.”

“And remove the limits?”

“Or set them much higher.”

“Which limit do you have in mind for testing, Lieutenant?”

“Propulsion. But the tests won’t function while we’re at lightspeed.”

“We’ll have to return to local space sooner or later,” said Flint. “With our gateway tenixite stores depleted, the Ancidium will have to pick us up.”

“We’re scheduled to exit lightspeed in a little over twenty-three hours, sir,” said Fredericks. “After how long will you judge it safe to enter normal space?”

Flint wasn’t sure and had been putting off the decision. “The Gorgadar is masking its lightspeed tunnel, so the Endurus shouldn’t be able to follow us, unless it has newer and better tech that defeats our ability to conceal our trail.”

“In which case, time and distance won’t matter,” said Larson.

The decision was taken from Flint, when a whine from the propulsion and a thumping vibration indicated the Gorgadar was exiting lightspeed.

“What the hell?” said Flint, grabbing the controls in alarm. “Everybody be ready!”

The warship entered normal space, and he gave it everything. The engines roared and the acceleration pushed Flint into his seat.

“We need that negation sphere up again!”

“Yes, sir,” said Eastwood. “I’m activating negation.”

“Sensors coming online!” said Burner.

The feeds appeared on the bulkhead screen and Flint expected to find a grey cliff of alloy sitting off one of his spaceship’s flanks. There was nothing.

“Nears running!” said Burner.

“I’ve got the fars,” said Garrett.

The scans came back clear and by that time, the Gorgadar’s velocity gauge had surpassed forty thousand kilometres per second. Flint blinked when he saw it. Wisdom told him that he should back off, but somehow, his fingers wouldn’t unlock themselves from the controls.

“Why did our transit end early?” he shouted.

Lieutenant Becerra found the answer.

“The transit didn’t end early, sir. We made it to our destination,” she said.

Flint remembered a similar occurrence when he was in command of the Firestorm – that was way back when exium was completely unstable and its capabilities hardly understood.

“We travelled much faster than the navigational computer expected,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “And in conjunction with the fact that we’re currently pushing sixty thousand klicks per second, it tells us something about our propulsion output.”

“Can you recalibrate the navigational system?” yelled Flint.

“No, sir. Not without capping the engine output to a set value.”

“Leave that for the moment, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere and this is our opportunity to call the Ancidium.”

“I’ll send out the comm, sir,” said Burner. “The Fleet Admiral may not want to gateway too close to our location.”

“He won’t,” Flint agreed. “We have up to four SRTs available. Those will carry us a long way from here.”

“I’ll make the arrangements, sir.”

Recker was indeed cautious, but he was also eager to have the Gorgadar docked within the Ancidium’s bays.

“The Fleet Admiral will activate the Ancidium’s gateway in thirty minutes, sir,” said Burner. “He’ll target a distance fifty billion kilometres from our current position.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Flint. His eyes fell inevitably to the velocity gauge. “We’re at eighty thousand klicks per second.”

“And the rate of acceleration isn’t slowing one bit, sir!” shouted Eastwood. “There’s no sign of anomalies either. This is incredible!”

“Damn right!” said Flint. Despite everything, a smile came to his face and he turned towards Larson. She was grinning too.”

“Let’s go for a hundred thousand!” she said.

“A hundred thousand it is!”

Part of Flint knew he was being irresponsible, and he quashed those thoughts by convincing himself that this was valuable testing. If he was to use this warship to the peak of its abilities, he needed to know how far it could be pushed.

When the velocity gauge advanced smoothly beyond a hundred thousand kilometres per second, the warship seemed to get a second wind and the needle sped right with increased vigour. And, while the volume of the propulsion was no longer increasing, Flint was sure he could now hear the inhalation much more prominently than before. In moments, it was everything and the tingling in his body intensified, like it was responding to the life energy coursing through the Gorgadar’s exium modules and within its batteries.

Before Flint knew it, the warship was travelling at a hundred and fifty thousand kilometres per second, and that was the moment he drew the controls back to a neutral position and allowed the Gorgadar to coast through the vacuum.

The noise faded and the tingling receded.

“Is that enough of a test for you, Lieutenant Fredericks?” asked Flint.

“Yes, sir, that’s a good start.”

“We’ve got some time before the Ancidium arrives,” said Flint. “But it’s probably for the best if we hold any other tests for later.”

“I’ll compile a priority list,” said Eastwood. “We’ve got plenty to learn from this warship and I’m looking forward to studying it in greater detail.”

“You’ll have to study fast,” said Flint. “I got a feeling the Endurus has its own priority list, and that the alliance just climbed all the way to the top of it.”

“I’ve always embraced technology - at least when it’s not the shitty kind like extractors or incendiaries that can wipe out entire planets,” said Eastwood. “But I sometimes wonder if exium would have been better off undiscovered.”

“Another species would have learned how to make it eventually,” said Flint. “If they haven’t already.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Eastwood. “The Endurus must be an eternity old, yet the evidence suggests it hasn’t yet discovered exium. And neither the Kilvar, the Lavorix nor the Balon found out how – and they’re on a similar tech tier to the alliance, give or take.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” said Flint.

“You don’t sound convinced, sir.”

“I’m not. It’s a big universe and it’s filled with potentially millions of other species that we haven’t yet run into. And remember that spaceship which appeared when we were in the shuttle? It left us the keys to the Ancidium – keys we might never have found otherwise. Then later it cloaked us when the Endurus shut down the Gorgadar’s engines.”

“We don’t know how that species came to have those encryption keys, sir,” said Eastwood. “Maybe it was all part of the wider game we keep talking about.”

“What about the cloaking?” asked Flint.

“That’s harder to explain,” Eastwood admitted. “However, my original point still stands - if the Endurus can bring such harm to the universe, why did this other species not destroy it, or at least attempt to do so? In my mind, that says it’s a fight they don’t think they can win.”

“Maybe exium won’t be enough to defeat the Endurus anyway,” said Flint. “Maybe the Endurus is powered by something with even greater potential, but the exium was still of interest.”

“I guess we’ll never know everything, sir,” said Eastwood. He laughed without humour. “Ultimately, I only care about the alliance, and we’re the ones that seem to be under immediate threat.”

“I’m not sure how we can win this one,” said Garrett, so quietly that Flint had to strain to hear. “Against the Kilvar – even when they were on top – I could always imagine a way. A little advancement in our tech here, or a tweak to the exium there, and I could picture our fleet being able to fight back. The odds were always against us, but now—” She tailed off.

“The death aura is one thing,” said Burner. “But when you add the stasis generation.” He paused in thought. “How are we going to combat one, let alone both together?”

The morale of the crew was ebbing, that much was clear.

“We’ve been here before, folks,” said Flint. “And every time, we lived to fight another day. I’m not ready to believe we’re out of chances. Besides, we put a big hole in the Endurus – that shows our enemy isn’t invulnerable. Most importantly, it shows that our opponent isn’t invulnerable to tech that’s already in our possession.”

“It would have been nice if our particle beam had taken out one of the Endurus’s critical systems,” said Becerra. “Especially since it seems like one shot is all we’re getting.”

“I should look into that,” said Eastwood. “I don’t believe in total immunity. If the beam failed once, it means the Endurus adapted. Maybe we can adapt our particle beam in turn.”

There was nothing better than a juicy technical problem to keep personnel like Eastwood and Fredericks occupied, but Flint wanted them to concentrate on a problem he’d set them earlier.

“While I’d like to have effective weaponry, at the moment I’d prefer it if we could activate the gateway. I’m aware we’re going to be picked up soon, but I’d cancel the pickup and gateway out of here if that was an option.”

“Yes, sir,” said Eastwood. “If we can solve the gateway problem, we’ll move onto the particle beam.”

“Please do,” said Flint. “Our first shot was like sticking a needle into an elephant, but if we run into the Endurus again, I’d rather have something we can use against it.”

“Absolutely, sir,” said Eastwood, his voice already distant, like his attention was elsewhere.

Flint glanced towards the timer counting down to the expected arrival of the Ancidium. It hadn’t moved much. “Anyway, we’re returning to base and this warship is going to give RL Moseley and his team plenty to think about. Once we’ve topped up the Ancidium’s batteries, we can resupply and then maybe work can resume on the incomplete Laws of Ancidium, as well as what’s underway in Bay Zero.”

“I heard about Bay Zero,” said Fredericks.

“What’s that?” asked Lieutenant Becerra.

“A place where the Ancidium was working on its more experimental designs,” said Flint. “Construction work came to a halt when resources ran dry.”

“What kind of experimental designs?” asked Becerra.

Flint didn’t know all the details and he wondered how much of it he should tell. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he felt a twinge of nausea and a faint pain in his head.

“Oh shit!” said Burner.

The wall of grey had appeared on the topside feeds. From out of nowhere the Endurus had come, and it was travelling at the exact same velocity as the Gorgadar.

Flint’s hand reached for the tactical, in order that he could activate a mode 3 transit.

“Sir?”

It was Captain Vance and he was staring with concern into Flint’s visor.

“What?” asked Flint in confusion. “Where did—” His mind pieced at least some of it together. “We were put in stasis?”

“Yes, sir,” said Vance.

Flint turned left and right. He saw other soldiers and his helmet computer informed him that the temperature was well below zero. The bridge also seemed to be darker than before, as if the light was struggling against a force attempting to extinguish it.

“Everything’s offline,” said Flint, sweeping his gaze across his console. “And no sound from the engines.”

“Yes, sir – I reckon all of the Gorgadar is locked down, except this little pocket of normal time around this oblex core we brought with us,” said Vance.

“You had it generating a negation field all along?” asked Flint.

“It doesn’t pay to take chances, sir.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” said Flint in admiration.

He added things up. The Gorgadar had been generating a powerful negation field and the Endurus had showed up and put the warship into zero-time anyway. And yet, this additional negation field being generated by the oblex core seemed to be enough to counteract some of the stasis, though Flint had no idea if he and everyone else were either slowed right down, or in something akin to normal time.

“We’re in your debt, Captain Vance,” said Flint. “How long did it take you to get here?”

“We came straightaway, sir.”

“So the Gorgadar has been in zero-time for ten or fifteen minutes of normal time,” said Flint. “And the Endurus hasn’t destroyed us yet.”

“Does that mean it won’t, sir?” asked Vance.

“I don’t know,” said Flint.

Anger came and he fought for calm. Flint thought he’d escaped the Endurus and now his warship was caught in zero-time. How he was going to get out of this, he had no idea.

Flint tipped back his head, stared at the ceiling and swore.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Flint didn’t allow his anger to hold sway. He pushed it aside and rose from his seat in a surge of movement. The bridge looked suddenly crowded with all of the soldiers inside. Unbelievably, Drawl and Steigers were investigating the replicator.

“What’s the radius of that oblex core’s negation sphere, Captain Vance?” asked Flint.

“Twenty-five metres, sir.”

“I need you to move aside so that I have some space,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir,” said Vance. He shouted orders and the soldiers hurried to the sides and the rear bulkhead, allowing Flint a clear sight of his crew.

“We got sucker punched,” said Flint. “Now the Gorgadar is in zero-time and I have no idea where we are, or what is going to happen.”

“I can’t get the sensors up, sir,” said Burner. “There’s power running through this console, but it’s not linked to anything.”

“It’s the same with the propulsion stations, sir,” said Fredericks.

“So how do we get out of this?” asked Flint.

“If the control system could send a command to our exium modules, we could order them to create an even more powerful negation, sir,” said Eastwood.

“I thought we were already creating a powerful enough negation,” said Flint accusingly. He sighed. “I apologise – we’re all of us trying to guess our way through this.”

“Yes, sir, and we guessed wrong,” said Eastwood.

“How can we send this command to our exium modules?” asked Flint. “If nothing changed during the Gorgadar’s last refit, those modules are installed midsection, a long way beneath the bridge. I doubt a single oblex core can create a negation sphere large enough to bring all of the intervening data connectors out of zero-time.”

“Won’t every single exium module have to be out of stasis as well?” asked Becerra.

“No, Lieutenant,” said Fredericks. “We only need a single exium module to generate a stronger negation and it’ll bring the adjacent modules back into normal time. Those modules will, in turn, cancel the stasis affecting the others.”

“It may even be that a single one of our charged exium blocks could bring this entire spaceship into normal time anyway,” said Fredericks. “Given how they performed in the propulsion test, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Sir, what did you mean about charged exium?” asked Lieutenant Hunter Gantry.

Fredericks told him. “Why are you asking, soldier?”

“I’ve been getting some crazy readings from Oblex#75, sir,” said Gantry. “I didn’t understand what they meant and since everything was working fine, and what with everyone on the bridge being so busy, I didn’t ask about it until now.”

“The exium in that oblex core must have been charged with life energy at the same time as this warship’s other exium modules,” said Fredericks in understanding. He shook his head and laughed.

“What does that mean, sir?” asked Gantry.

“It’s probably the single reason why Oblex#75 was able to counter the stasis holding this warship,” said Fredericks. He shook his head again. “That one core, against the might of the Endurus.”

“Will Oblex#75 be able to bring this entire warship out of stasis if we instruct it to increase the radius of its negation sphere?” asked Flint.

“I wouldn’t bet against it, sir,” said Fredericks. “On the other hand, it’s the only thing that’s keeping us in the game. Do we really want to risk having it create a fifteen-klick radius negation sphere when we know how much the Endurus is putting into keeping us locked down?”

“Maybe not,” said Flint. “So what do we do?”

“There’s a technician station within five hundred metres of the topmost exium module,” said Fredericks. “If we sent the negation command from that station at the same time as Oblex#75 increased its own negation sphere to a 550-metre radius, that should allow the instruction to travel to its destination and bring the Gorgadar out of stasis.”

“I love technology,” said Private Drawl.

“Quiet,” growled Vance.

“I can’t think of a better plan,” said Flint. He looked at his other crew members in turn. “Anyone else with an idea?”

“I like Lieutenant Fredericks’s plan, sir,” said Burner. “Except we on the bridge will have to go back into zero-time.”

“How come?” asked Flint. He paused in thought. “Of course - because the bridge crew have to be ready to operate the Gorgadar the moment it’s out of stasis.”

“Yes, sir, that’s what I meant,” said Burner.

“How’re your walking boots, Captain Vance?” asked Flint.

“They’ve got a few bits of Kilvar brain stuck to the soles, sir, but that shouldn’t slow me down.”

“I’m sure you’ve guessed what I’m about to ask you.”

“Yes, sir. If you or one of your officers can install a command file onto that oblex core – something the technician station will recognize – we’ll get it there for you.”

“Thank you.” Flint pointed at the three propulsion stations. “Any of those officers can create a command file locally on their consoles and then transfer it to the oblex core.”

“I’ve got that, sir,” said Lieutenant Eastwood. “It won’t take me more than a couple of minutes to create the file.”

Flint was full of nervous energy and remained standing. He was accustomed to the changing nature of fortune, but usually he got to see it unfolding before him, rather than just being dumped in zero-time without warning. There wasn’t much else he could do other than shrug and accept what had happened.

As good as his word, Eastwood was finished in less than two minutes.

“The command file is installed on the oblex core, sir,” he said. “Once Captain Vance takes it to the right place, he can transfer it to the technician station and – all being well – we should be lifted right out of stasis.”

“At which point the fun and games will begin,” said Flint.

“It’ll beat sitting on our asses, sir.”

“That it will.”

Captain Vance approached. “We’re ready on your order, sir.”

“There’s no point in waiting around, Captain,” said Flint. “For all I know, the Endurus could be halfway through dismantling the Gorgadar in its hunt for our exium modules.”

Vance nodded. “We’ll move out at once.”

Returning to his seat, Flint prepared for his return to zero-time. Experience told him that he wouldn’t feel a thing – that he wouldn’t know anything about it – but he nevertheless found it difficult to cope. If Vance failed for whatever reason, then Flint and everyone else would effectively be dead in all but name. In a way, Flint thought he might even prefer the finality of death, to being trapped for an eternity.

“Good luck,” he heard Becerra say to the soldiers.

Then, the bridge door opened and the dull thump of footsteps marched through.

The red lights on Flint’s console turned green, and he watched as several offline systems began rebooting.

“Did it happen?” said Maddox.

“Looks like,” said Flint.

Leaving stasis should, in theory, have no ill effects whatsoever, yet he always felt as if he was in a fugue for a short time afterwards. His nervous sense of anticipation brushed away the cobwebs and he focused on the onboard systems, which were approaching a state of readiness.

“Waiting on sensors,” said Burner.

“What’re we going to see?” wondered Larson. “And what’re we going to do?”

“Sensors online!” shouted Burner.

The feeds came through on the bulkhead screen and, for one fleeting moment, Flint thought the Gorgadar had been left alone, out in the middle of space. Then, he saw that the darkness was absolute, with no distant glimmering pinpoints of starlight.

“We’re in a holding bay,” he said in realisation.

“That’s a distinct possibility, sir,” said Garrett. “I’m enhancing the feeds – the arrays are having a hard time gathering any data whatsoever.”

Everything around began vibrating faintly and Flint heard a distant whine. The whine altered in pitch as it become louder, and it settled into the familiar sound of idling exium propulsion.

“The engines are back,” said Fredericks.

Flint nodded, wondering if the automatic restarting of the engines would give the game away. It was too soon to act and he stared at the sensor feeds, trying to determine exactly where the Gorgadar had been taken.

“We’re in an ovoid space, sir,” said Garrett. “It’s eight hundred klicks long, with a height and width of two hundred.”

“I can’t see any features,” said Flint, peering at the feeds. Everything was dark.

“No, sir – it’s bare walls and there’s no sign of a way in or out.”

“We could go for a mode 3 exit, sir,” said Maddox.

“Or we could take the Endurus by surprise by creating a maximum-strength stasis field,” said Eastwood.

“It seems like we keep creating those maximum-strength stasis fields, and it’s never quite maximum enough,” said Flint.

“This time I’ll turn the dial up to a real ten, sir.”

“Lightspeed hasn’t helped us so far,” said Larson. “I’m not convinced that a few mode 3 jumps will be enough this time either.”

Flint tapped his fingers on the edge of his console as he considered how best to proceed. “If we create stasis and it fails, the Endurus will know we’re back in normal time. Or whatever time our exium modules returned us to.”

“It’s likely the enemy has already realised the Gorgadar is online, sir, or will do soon,” said Fredericks. “A hull scan would be enough.”

That was a worrying thought. “The Endurus has taken no action to shut us down and that means it’s confident we won’t be getting out of here,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Burner, have you scanned the walls of this bay for anything we need to be aware of?”

“I’ve been doing it while you talked, sir,” said Burner. “And in case you hadn’t already guessed, our comms aren’t going anywhere.”

“We agreed with the Fleet Admiral that he wouldn’t open a gateway unless we gave him the all-clear a couple of minutes before the Ancidium’s departure,” said Flint.

“I know that, sir, I’m just making you aware that we’re unable to send a comm through those walls.”

“Tell me about the scan results,” said Flint.

“There’s an energy field of some kind,” said Burner. “It extends about five klicks into the bay, at a uniform depth.”

“Any idea about the purpose of that field?” asked Flint.

“No, sir. I imagine you could take your pick out of a few dozen shitty possibilities.”

No matter how hard he thought, Flint couldn’t come up with a plan that would accomplish the twin goals of harming the Endurus and getting the Gorgadar away intact. Flint reflected that he should learn to accept compromise, since escape alone was nowhere near guaranteed.

“If we’re successful in putting the Endurus into stasis, we’ll still have to exit this bay either at lightspeed or using a gateway,” said Flint. “We all know how the Ancidium’s hull blocks lightspeed transits.”

“So we need to figure out a way to activate the gateway from our exium modules,” said Larson.

“Alternatively, if that isn’t possible, we’ll have to make a hole in the Endurus that we can lightspeed through,” said Flint.

“Is there anything stopping us trying an SRT right now, sir?” asked Maddox.

“Nothing except for the likelihood that we’ll be captured again,” said Flint. He reached towards the tactical and then withdrew his hand. “If a prisoner escapes and is recaptured, what happens to the prisoner?”

Maddox nodded. “The second chance is harder to come by.”

“Let’s give our propulsion team a few minutes,” said Flint. “I expect we’ll only have one try, so let’s get it right.”

Flint prepared himself for a difficult wait. He hadn’t said it aloud, but he was beginning to think this might be a situation from which he couldn’t extricate himself. He had no idea what kind of intelligence controlled the Endurus, but the entity – or whatever it was – had witnessed everything the Gorgadar was capable of. That surely meant this bay would be extremely effective at containment.

The urgency shortly became even more apparent. A circular section of the bay wall – about a hundred metres in diameter and directly over the top of the Gorgadar – glowed with a sudden, intense red. After two or three seconds, a beam, equally bright, stabbed downwards, activating the Gorgadar’s energy shield.

“The Endurus is planning to burn through our defences, sir,” said Larson.

“So it appears,” said Flint grimly.

He checked the shield gauge and saw that it was already falling. When it hit zero, the Gorgadar would be vulnerable. What the Endurus would do afterwards, Flint didn’t know for certain. It was likely his spaceship’s weaponry would be disabled by one means or another, and then the Gorgadar dismantled.

At some point, Flint was sure an unpleasant fate would befall him and his crew. He gritted his teeth and hoped his propulsion officers would figure something out and soon.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Flint wasn’t willing to sit idly by and do nothing. He took the controls and piloted the Gorgadar rapidly along the bay, bringing it to a halt only a few kilometres from the curved wall. The beam adjusted to follow and it continued burning through the energy shield’s reserves.

“Is there an emplacement we can target with our missiles?” asked Flint.

“No, sir,” said Burner.

“Damnit, fire our missiles anyway,” said Flint. “Hit that area of the bay wall.”

“Targeting missiles,” said Larson. “Upper clusters one through ten: fired.”

The missiles sped away and detonated in a tight circle around the place from which the particle beam emerged. As brightly as the plasma burned, the explosions didn’t cause a mark on the bay wall, and the beam wasn’t interrupted for so much as a split second.

“Our shield gauge is at ninety percent already,” said Flint. “Can we route some more power into the recharge?”

“Yes, sir, we can,” said Copeland. “I’ll do that now.”

The shield gauge stopped falling. Then, it began climbing slowly.

“That got it,” said Flint. “Now, we—"

A new area of the bay wall glowed – this time beneath the Gorgadar - and a second particle beam struck the energy shield. The gauge began falling again.

“Diverting more power into the shield,” said Copeland.

Once again, the gauge climbed slowly. Flint watched and waited. Sure enough, a third beam appeared and the gauge fell.

Flint cursed. “Is our super-exium capable of increasing the recharge rate indefinitely?” he asked.

“I don’t know about the limits of our exium, sir,” said Copeland. “But we’re already nearing the limit of what the shield generator can cope with. I can boost the power again, but much more than that and there’s a good chance the hardware will fail.”

“And it may be the Endurus can keep switching these beams on until the entire bay wall is generating them,” said Larson.

“I’d best quit while I’m behind,” said Flint sourly. “How’s progress, Lieutenant Eastwood?”

“Not as fast as I’d like, sir. I’m sure it’s possible to activate a gateway using our exium, but the trouble is finding the best way to route the energy without overloading the existing systems. The conduits from the tenixite storage bay are able to cope, but I don’t have a way of diverting power through them, so I’m having to find another way to spread the load.”

“Is there anything we can shut down to reduce the strain?”

“We’d have to put at least three critical systems offline for the full eight minutes it takes the gateway warmup to complete.”

“Eight minutes,” said Flint. Saying it out loud made it sound like an age. “A real shame that wasn’t shaved down during the refit to the same two minutes as the Ancidium’s gateway warmup.”

“Them’s the breaks, sir.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Flint. “So, three or more systems offline. I wasn’t aware the power demands of the gateway were so high.”

“Those demands are easily manageable when the conduits are built to cope. When the Lavorix were designing the Gorgadar, they probably never imagined they’d use anything other than tenixite to power the gateway.”

“What about the particle beam?” asked Flint. “Will it be quicker to modify that than it will be to resolve the problem with the gateway?”

“That’s a how long is a piece of string? kind of question, sir.”

“More like a how long before our energy shield collapses? kind of question,” said Flint. “The reserve gauge is at sixty percent.”

“This isn’t my decision to make, sir.”

“I was asking for your informed opinion, Lieutenant. Gateway or particle beam?”

“Gateway, sir.”

“In that case, keep on it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Flint had another thought. “Does the Endurus have any open comms receptors?” he asked.

“I don’t usually check for receptors on confirmed hostile warships,” said Burner. “Let me find out.”

“Hoping to negotiate, sir?” asked Larson.

“I don’t know, Commander. We haven’t even attempted communication.”

“There is a receptor, sir,” said Burner. “It’s closed off and rejecting any request to link.”

“The Kilvar must have got through to the Endurus somehow,” said Flint.

“Not necessarily, sir,” said Larson. “Maybe the communication was one-way – the Endurus provided instructions and the Kilvar did as they were told.”

“I’m not sure this is a comms receptor like you’re thinking, sir,” said Burner. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a data port intended for use by whatever hardware normally operates in this bay. Maybe this place was once a shipyard and the construction vessels would receive commands through that interface.”

“What’s going through your head, sir?” asked Larson.

“At first, I planned to communicate with the Endurus – both to buy us some time and to find out exactly what it wants. Now I’m wondering if we can connect our oblex core to that interface port and suck out some useful information.”

“The data arrays connected to this bay might contain records of anything that has been built on the Endurus,” said Larson.

“Better, yet, they might contain blueprints of the Endurus itself,” said Flint.

“I’d almost started to see the Endurus as a living entity,” said Larson. “But of course it was built by something.”

“I’m sure it was,” said Flint. “I have no idea if the Endurus was designed specifically to kill, or if its crew, or AI controller later decided that widespread extinction was an honourable pursuit. In truth, I hardly care, but if we can find out where its critical systems are located, we’ll increase our chances of destroying this enemy.”

“Shield at fifty percent,” said Copeland.

Flint turned in his seat. “Lieutenant Burner, is there any way we can use the Gorgadar’s comms to route a security break attempt into that interface port?”

“Yes, sir, but it wouldn’t achieve you’re hoping,” said Burner. “Warship comms can handle a crapload of data, but nothing like what our processing cores can output. Besides, once the Endurus notices the breach attempt, it’s going to take action to prevent it happening.”

“Unless the attack is so rapid that the Endurus is caught unawares,” mused Flint.

“You try surprising a bunch of ones and zeroes, sir,” said Burner.

“Point taken,” said Flint.

He leaned back in his seat, his mind spinning with possibilities. It felt as if an opportunity lay within grasp, if only he could work out how to reach out and take it.

“If we sent Oblex#75 out of the Gorgadar, it could interface and extract the data,” said Fredericks. “That core is running at a vastly increased rate since it absorbed the overspill energy. I haven’t had a chance to run tests of course, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it could output ten times the data of a normal oblex core.”

“Ten cores in one,” said Flint. “That might be enough.”

“Shield at forty percent, sir,” said Copeland. “I’ll take no action to increase the recharge rate unless I hear your order.”

“Acknowledged,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Becerra, get me a channel to Captain Vance.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vance responded at once and Flint spent a few moments explaining his requirements.

“It sounds like it’s a hostile place out in that bay, sir,” said Vance.

“It is – and that’s why we have to act fast. Once the Gorgadar’s energy shield fails, the Endurus will be able to target the oblex core.”

“Couldn’t you put the Endurus into stasis again, sir? Or maybe just the bay?”

“I’m thinking about it,” said Flint. “I don’t want to reveal the full extent of our capabilities if I don’t have to.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll put things in motion and contact you when I’m at the shuttle bay.”

“Thank you.”

Flint cut the channel, just as Copeland announced the energy shield reserves were at thirty percent. He swore at the news. The shield was clearly falling too quickly and Flint couldn’t imagine that Vance would be able to launch with the core in time, nor that the core would breach the interface security before the Endurus started carving up the Gorgadar.

“I don’t think we can avoid trying the stasis, sir,” said Larson.

“It looks that way,” Flint agreed. “But not yet.”

He called up the internal security monitors and watched Vance’s progress through the Gorgadar. The entire platoon was with him – presumably they had nothing better to keep them occupied.

“Another three or four minutes to the shuttle bay,” Flint guessed.

Watching the progress of the soldiers was painful, even though Vance was driving them to a hard pace. The Gorgadar’s energy shield slipped below twenty percent and Flint mentally cursed the three particle beams which were inexorably bringing his warship to a state of defencelessness.

“Less than a minute until they’re at the bay,” he said.

“Ten percent on the energy shield,” said Copeland.

“Lieutenant Eastwood, put the Endurus in stasis!” Flint ordered.

“Yes, sir, activating stasis!”

Nothing happened. The three particle beams continued unabated and the shield gauge fell to nine percent.

“It’s like we feared, sir,” said Eastwood. “There’s a property of this bay which is designed to keep anything inside completely isolated from the Endurus.”

The Gorgadar was still at the far end of the bay and Flint piloted it backwards away from the walls, until it had enough clear space all around for a much smaller stasis sphere to be created – a sphere that wouldn’t touch the walls.

“Reduce the radius of the sphere, Lieutenant Eastwood,” said Flint. “Until it’s entirely within the bay.”

“Yes, sir.”

Flint watched expectantly. The particle beams continued to crackle and pulsate like before.

“It’s not working, sir,” said Eastwood. “This entire bay must be a focused null. Whatever the Endurus wants to shut down, it can do it in here.”

“Captain Vance is boarding the shuttle, sir,” said Becerra.

As soon as he heard the update, Flint piloted the Gorgadar towards the end of the bay where it had previously been positioned. The interface port was at the narrowest part of the ovoid and below the nose of the Gorgadar.

“Give him the order to depart,” said Flint. “Make him aware that he’s going out there without the protection of the energy shield.”

“Yes, sir.”

With the order given, Flint readied himself for what was to come. The energy shield would soon be depleted and then the Endurus would be in complete control.

Flint watched the sensors and waited to see what would become of both his warship and Captain Vance’s shuttle.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Gorgadar was immense and it carried a total of fifty-six shuttles. Entirely by luck, Vance had been nearest to a bay containing one of the heavily armoured Lavorix models. The vessel was in excess of two hundred metres in length and clad in thick plates of alloy.

Flint stared as the transport accelerated from the portside bay and then banked rapidly to take cover beneath the Gorgadar. He knew the truth – the armour could be four times as thick and the shuttle would still be incinerated in less than a second by the particle beams currently scouring the Gorgadar’s shields.

“Our shield is about to fail, sir,” said Copeland. “This is the last opportunity to increase the recharge rate.”

“Hold, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain Vance, Lieutenant Tagra, and Lieutenant Gantry are on that shuttle, sir,” said Becerra. “The rest stayed behind.”

“Unwillingly, I’d wager,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir, I’m sure you’re right.”

The shuttle sped along the Gorgadar’s underside, almost skimming the armour plating and banking around the multitude of surface emplacements.

“Eight klicks to the interface port,” said Becerra.

The ovoid of blue which had protected the Gorgadar and which had darkened to near-invisibility as it was drained, winked out of existence, and with it went the particle beams.

“That’s our shield gone,” said Copeland. “And we’re no longer under attack.”

“Don’t expect that to last,” said Flint. “Let’s see what happens next.”

“Maybe the Endurus will neutralise our surface weapons first,” said Maddox. “That’ll use up some time.”

“I’m not sure we’re viewed as a threat any longer,” said Flint.

“I hope that plays to our advantage, sir,” said Maddox.

“Me too, Lieutenant. We don’t have many irons in the fire. If the Endurus sees that shuttle as a threat, it’s game over for us.”

Flint’s eyes went to the shield gauge. With the reserves drained to zero, the hardware could no longer operate, but that didn’t stop it recharging. The gauge was already up to three percent and increasing steadily. Finding the right moment to activate it again was going to take a mixture of luck and judgement.

“Four klicks to the interface port,” said Becerra.

A circular area of the portside bay wall – this time with a radius of twenty metres – turned the same red as before.

“Here we go,” said Flint through gritted teeth.

A particle beam struck the Gorgadar’s flank armour, midway along, and remained focused on the same place for a few seconds. Then, the beam began moving sideways, towards the spaceship’s nose.

“The Endurus is cutting us open,” said Eastwood.

“Going straight for our exium modules,” said Flint.

“That’s what it looks like, sir,” said Eastwood. “Those modules are buried right beneath us, so that particle beam will have to slice through plenty of metal.”

“I’m glad that beam isn’t cutting through the underside,” said Larson. “Then I’d be really worried for Captain Vance’s shuttle.”

Flint called up a top-level report from the internal monitors. Those monitors reported that the first cut had penetrated diagonally to a depth of a thousand metres. The exium was contained much deeper than that, and also a few hundred metres closer to the stern.

“The beam is off-target,” said Flint.

“Our hull is shielded against scanning, sir,” said Burner. “It’s impossible to block all readings, but the shielding makes it tough to pinpoint the location of specific hardware.”

“The Endurus guessed wrong,” said Fredericks.

“That just means it’ll inflict more damage looking for its target,” said Flint.

“You aren’t normally worried about the paintwork, sir,” said Burner.

“Thank you for the reminder, Lieutenant.” Flint gave a short laugh. “I suppose as long as the Gorgadar is in a fit state to get us out of here, I can accept a few scrapes here and there.”

A second beam appeared, again on the portside of the bay. This one stabbed into the Gorgadar’s armour a couple of hundred metres below the first. After a moment, the beam moved steadily towards the stern.

“Captain Vance’s shuttle is within a thousand metres of the interface port,” said Becerra.

Flint didn’t want to watch the transport’s progress, as if acknowledging its existence to himself would somehow betray its presence to the Endurus.

Can’t let myself be dictated by superstition.

He forced himself to look, albeit only for the briefest of moments. Flint saw the shuttle moving fast beneath the Gorgadar’s nose – that being an area of the hull where there were fewer emplacements owing to the space requirements for the nose beam and the extractor hardware. The transport looked incredibly vulnerable and Flint again checked the energy shield reserve gauge.

Nine percent.

“Lieutenant Copeland, do we still have the option to increase the recharge rate of the shield?” asked Flint. “And without making the Endurus aware?”

“Yes to the first question, sir, though like I told you earlier, we’re already pushing the hardware. As for the second question, no guarantees. I’m sure the Endurus will detect an increased power flow, but it shouldn’t have a way to identify what those conduits are supplying.”

“That’s a good enough answer, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Boost the recharge of the shield.”

“Yes, sir.”

Flint heard a faraway whining sound that he wasn’t sure had been there before. “Are there any problems, Lieutenant Copeland?”

“There are no failures on the shield hardware, sir, but we’re right on the limit of how much power we can push into the recharge.”

“In which case, it’ll have to be enough.”

A third cutting beam sprang from the bay walls and was shortly followed by a fourth. These began working on the Gorgadar’s hull closer to the stern.

“Those ones are right above our exium modules,” Flint said. He checked the internal monitors again. “And cutting much deeper than the others.”

“Yes, sir,” said Eastwood. “Those beams have penetrated to within two hundred metres of the exium. I reckon that’s just far enough that the modules won’t be damaged by the heat.”

“How will the Endurus cut through those last two hundred metres?” asked Becerra. “It’s been a long time since I was shown around a construction yard.”

“It’s likely the outer few thousand metres will be cut up further and then twisted out using gravity chains,” said Eastwood. “After that, those particle beams will be reduced in radius and intensity and they’ll cut around the exium blocks. An alliance shipyard would complete this entire operation using construction bots, but since I don’t see any here, I expect the Endurus has a different way to handle the final, most delicate work.”

“Captain Vance has made it to the end of the bay, sir,” said Becerra.

On the feed, the transport was rotating to bring its rear cargo bay as close to the wall as possible. Although the Gorgadar’s nose was almost touching that same wall, the shuttle seemed terribly exposed.

“Twenty percent on the shield gauge,” said Copeland.

The energy shield had drained fast beneath those larger particle beams and the same thing would happen again once it was reactivated. Twenty percent wasn’t enough.

“How quickly will the intrusion attempt bring a response?” asked Flint.

“Nobody can answer that with certainty, sir,” said Fredericks. “The interface is internal, so it might not even have an intrusion alarm. It’s possible the Endurus won’t notice what’s happening until data starts flowing out of its arrays.”

Flint cursed under his breath. Not only did the oblex core need to steal the enemy data, but Captain Vance subsequently had to return the shuttle intact to the bay. He couldn’t imagine the Gorgadar’s energy shield holding up to a concerted attack long enough for the theft and the escape to happen.

He had an idea.

“Lieutenant Burner, you told me earlier that the Gorgadar’s comms couldn’t channel the quantity of data the oblex core will be throwing at the interface port.”

“That’s right, sir.”

“But our comms will be fast enough to accept whatever files the core extracts from the Endurus.”

“That depends on what it extracts, sir. However, the data arrays on those oblex units aren’t enormous – they’re designed to process, not to store.” Burner nodded to himself as he thought it through. “It shouldn’t take longer than a few seconds for our comms to receive the full contents of an oblex array.”

“And if Oblex#75 then locates additional data behind that interface, it can dump the contents of its arrays after uploading to the Gorgadar, and continue extracting whatever else it can find within the Endurus,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir.”

“Lieutenant Becerra, please contact Captain Vance,” said Flint. “Tell him to open the cargo door of his shuttle and leave Oblex#75 next to the interface port. It’s programmed on what to do and we can link to it here from the bridge. Then Captain Vance is to return to the docking bay.”

“I’ll let him know right away, sir,” said Becerra.

“Our shield reserves are pushing thirty percent, sir,” said Copeland.

Flint felt that events were coming to a head. The only thing missing was the gateway. Without that, the Gorgadar was going nowhere.

Assuming the Endurus can’t block gateway travel as well.

He couldn’t do much to change that, and neither could he influence the eight-minute warmup of the gateway. Dwelling on the issues wasn’t helping and Flint’s anger rose.

“The oblex core is out of the shuttle,” said Becerra.

Flint turned to the sensor feeds. The transport’s cargo bay door was open and a comparatively tiny cube-shaped object was speeding vertically on its own propulsion.

“I’ve established a link with the oblex core, sir,” said Burner. “It’s ready to attempt the intrusion.”

“Instruct it to hold for a moment,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir.”

“Those beams cutting into our portside midsection have almost completed a square,” said Garrett. “The ones above our exium modules are making a smaller square and they’re nearly done as well.”

“We’re going to require the gateway sometime very soon, Lieutenant Eastwood,” said Flint. “What’s your progress?”

“In a few moments I’ll be ready to re-route from our exium modules, sir.”

Eastwood’s news was a positive development and Flint attempted to pull everything together in his mind. The oblex core would require an unknown amount of time to crack open the enemy security and start extracting the data. As well as that, the gateway had a long warmup. All the while, those particle beams were cutting their way into the Gorgadar.

“Will the Endurus know we’re readying the gateway?” asked Flint.

“If it does, we’re screwed,” said Fredericks. “More likely, it’ll detect the power build up, without being able to identify which system is charging – just like Lieutenant Copeland described with the energy shield recharge. If we’re lucky, the Endurus will be relying on the null in this bay and won’t take any specific action.”

“I’ve settled on the best way to re-route, sir,” said Eastwood. “You can attempt the gateway warmup anytime you choose.”

“Which critical systems will go offline?”

“I managed to reduce three to two, sir. We’ll lose the decay pulse and our SRTs until the gateway fires.”

“Good work, Lieutenant,” said Flint. He pondered for a moment. “The oblex cores don’t usually take longer than a minute or two to crack through security. Let’s ready the gateway immediately.”

“I’ll select a location that’s nowhere near here, sir,” said Eastwood.

“Yes, please,” Flint confirmed. “Start the warmup.”

“Warmup commenced.”

Most of the needles on Flint’s console remained stuck on maximum, so he wasn’t able to judge what was happening based on the panel readout. However, he heard a rumbling that hadn’t been present only a moment before.

“Fingers and toes crossed,” said Larson.

Flint only nodded and listened carefully to the rumbling. He didn’t remember it from any previous gateway activation.

“I don’t like the sound of that, Lieutenant Eastwood,” he said.

“The conduits are holding up, sir,” said Eastwood.

He spoke too soon. The rumbling deepened and climbed significantly in volume. Five seconds later, the sound faded.

“Shit,” said Eastwood. “The conduits overloaded and the gateway hardware shut down.”

“Can you fix it, Lieutenant?”

“I’m checking the failure report, sir. One moment.” Eastwood cursed again. “The conduit routing through the decay pulse was carrying much of the load, sir, and it’s failed completely.”

“Can you fix it?” Flint repeated.

“No, sir. Not a chance in hell.” Eastwood went quiet for a moment. “Maybe if we shut down all the remaining critical systems, but that would include the life support. I don’t know what will happen if we attempt a gateway transit with the life support offline.”

Flint didn’t know either and he didn’t want to be the first to try it out. Less than two minutes ago, it seemed as if there was a chance to pull off the most unlikely of escapes from the depths of the Endurus. Now, failure appeared to be the only possible outcome.

It was hard to bear and Flint snarled in anger. But, having come so close, he wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Lieutenant Eastwood, did the gateway failure damage our SRT capabilities?” asked Flint.

“No, sir. The SRT modules are coming back online. I estimate they’ll be available in the next couple of minutes.”

“Lieutenant Burner, instruct the oblex core to begin its intrusion attempt.”

“Yes, sir. Instruction sent.”

“Captain Vance has safely docked with the Endurus, sir,” said Becerra.

“Acknowledged,” said Flint.

“Our energy shield is at forty percent,” said Copeland. “The gateway rerouting slowed things down for a moment – the recharge rate is picking up again.”

“The gateway failed, so we’re left with the particle beam or an SRT as the way out of here,” said Flint. “I’m not about to bet on the latter, so that leaves shooting our way out as the best option.”

“I’m still working on the particle beam, sir,” said Fredericks. “If I’d had a chance to study how the Ancidium adapts its hull against damage, I’d be better placed to understand how the Endurus made itself immune to our second beam shot.”

“Do you have any ideas?” asked Flint.

“Some. The Gorgadar’s particle beam is unique in its capabilities, like you already know. Its power generators are able to both receive and focus incoming energy at a vastly higher rate than any other particle beam. What I’m looking for is a way to alter the signature of the output – the beam itself – so that it bypasses the enemy defences. Once I have this cracked, I’d guess we’ll be able to adjust future beam attacks in a way that the Endurus will find it difficult to protect against.”

Flint knew something about the technology and he thought hard. “I recall hearing that the Gorgadar’s particle beam has almost zero fluctuation in its output level,” he said.

“That’s right, sir – the hardware behind a normal particle beam has to vary the power flow between high and low in order that it doesn’t burn out. It happens fast, since the beam is usually only active for a second or two, but with the Gorgadar the Lavorix created a weapon where the hardware can sustain the same output for the entirety of the discharge. It’s part of the reason why it’s so effective.”

“Is it possible the Endurus could make itself immune to energy of a specific intensity?” asked Flint.

Fredericks didn’t say anything for a moment. “That’s a damn good question, sir. If you’re right, all we’d need to do would be to increase or decrease the energy our control system provides for the beam generator.”

“I would definitely recommend increasing the flow rather than decreasing it,” said Larson dryly.

“I’ll look into it immediately,” said Fredericks.

Flint felt the coldness of anticipation building. He twisted in his seat. “Lieutenant Burner, is there any indication of success from the oblex core?”

“Not yet, sir. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Our energy shield reserves have reached fifty percent of their maximum,” said Copeland.

“You might want to check out the portside feeds, sir,” said Garrett. “It looks as if the Endurus wants to speed things up.”

Six additional cutting beams had appeared from the bay wall, and they were all concentrated on the area over the Gorgadar’s exium modules.

“If the Endurus cuts too deep, we might lose a significant portion of our exium, sir,” said Eastwood. “Remember - our enemy is guessing where those blocks are located.”

“Maybe we should activate the energy shield, sir,” said Larson. “Fifty percent might be enough.”

“If we guess wrong, we lose, Commander.”

“When was it ever different?”

“This one we’re pushing to the brink,” said Flint.

“The exium core has broken the interface security!” yelled Burner a moment later.

It was the development Flint had been waiting for. “Activate the energy shield!” he called loudly.

“Shield activated!” said Copeland.

The familiar blue ovoid appeared around the Gorgadar. Within a second, the bay cutting beams vanished, and larger patches of red glowed on the inner walls.

“Here come the shield drainers,” said Garrett sourly.

Four of the much thicker beams emerged from the bay walls and struck the Gorgadar’s energy shield. The gauge started falling at once and Flint cursed at the sight.

“Has the oblex core started pulling out data yet?” he asked.

“Yes, sir – it’s channelling a ton of it through our comms systems and I’m saving it to the Gorgadar’s main arrays.”

“We need to search through it for anything we can take advantage of,” said Flint. “Everyone who isn’t Lieutenant Fredericks – that’s your new task.”

“What’s our priority, sir?” asked Maddox.

“Find the death aura generators or the stasis hardware,” said Flint. “I’d like to put a particle beam hole through one or the other and then mode 3 out of that same hole with my middle finger raised high over my shoulder.”

Flint accessed the Gorgadar’s arrays. Oblex#75 had already extracted hundreds of thousands of files, but cleverly it was designed to retain the existing organization of the data it removed, and that would hopefully make it easier to focus on relevant information.

“I’ve run the translation routines on the data, using our main cores, sir,” said Burner. “As far as I can tell, there’s no language as such in these files - it’s all pictorial and mathematical.”

“Numbers and drawings,” said Maddox. “The language of computers and machines.”

“Maybe,” said Flint. It was an interesting statement from Maddox, and what lay within these data files might well offer valuable clues about the origins of the Endurus. Right now, Flint wanted to concentrate purely on locating the enemy vessel’s critical hardware.

“Our shield is back below forty percent,” said Copeland.

“We need progress on that particle beam, Lieutenant Fredericks,” growled Flint.

“I’m getting there, sir.”

“Get there faster.”

Fredericks often came up with the goods when he was riled - like sticking an extra few lumps of coal in his boiler got his fires burning hotter. Flint smiled thinly when he heard the other man swearing quietly at the blunt encouragement.

Giving his attention once more to the extracted data, Flint opened several of the files in turn. Each one appeared to be a technical diagram for components that were installed somewhere in the Endurus. On a seven-thousand-kilometre warship it was conceivable that its hardware was made up from billions of different pieces.

“I need something higher-level than this,” muttered Flint. “Plan diagrams or similar.”

He accessed another dozen files and they were all alike. He found technical drawings made up from lines and curves, annotated with numbers - numbers which meant nothing whatsoever when viewed in isolation.

“Thirty percent on the energy shield,” said Copeland. “And we’re out of options to boost the recharge.”

“I’ve made the alterations to the particle beam, sir!” said Fredericks loudly. “Next time it fires, I’m hoping it’ll go clean through the Endurus.”

“I’m hoping that too, Lieutenant,” said Flint. He gave the other man a thumbs up. “Good work.”

“Only if I did it right, sir.”

“Are you intending to fire the beam immediately, sir?” asked Larson.

“Hell no,” said Flint. “Not while we’ve still got twenty-eight percent on our energy shield and there’s data left to extract.”

“The particle beam only has a twenty-second recharge, sir. We could make one exit hole and still have time to make another before our shield runs out.”

“And risk having a thousand of those enemy particle beams appearing out of the bay walls?” Flint smiled, knowing he was pushing things to the limit and beyond. “We’re going to make one hole out of this place, Commander. That hole is going directly through a piece of critical hardware and we’re going to lightspeed out of it with our arrays full of stolen data.”

“What happens when the Endurus catches up with us?”

“I have a feeling we won’t be alone out there, Commander.”

Larson was about to say something when she was interrupted by a shout from Lieutenant Garrett.

“I’ve got something!” said Garrett. “I’m sending a copy of the file to every console.”

A notification for the newly arrived file glowed softly in the corner of Flint’s screen, and he accessed it at once. He exhaled when he saw what Garrett had found.

“This might be just the luck we needed, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

“Is it what you’re looking for, sir?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

What Garrett had discovered was an outline plan of the enemy warship. While it only showed the location of four of the Endurus’s onboard systems – and they appeared tiny in comparison to the vast size of the vessel - the diagram was precise enough that those onboard systems could be targeted by the Gorgadar’s particle beam.

“How do we know if those are stasis generators?” asked Maddox. “Or if they create the death aura?”

“That’s what Lieutenants Eastwood, Fredericks and Copeland are going to tell us,” said Flint.

“On it, sir,” Eastwood confirmed.

Like every warship commanding officer, Flint had received extensive training, but it was impossible to have cutting edge knowledge in every technical field. However, he’d spent four years serving as an engine officer before his promotion to captain and had retained an active interest. Because of his background, Flint thought he might have some useful input and he stared hard at the diagram, hoping he might gain an understanding of what those four onboard systems were designed for.

“Twenty percent on the shield, sir,” said Copeland.

It was Lieutenant Fredericks who was first to reach a conclusion.

“The diagrams themselves don’t resemble anything we have in the alliance, nor anything I’ve seen built by the Lavorix,” he began, with both excitement and tension in his voice. “It’s the power outputs on the modules that are familiar – they resemble the output from our exium modules when we’re generating stasis or negation.”

Flint turned so he could see the other man’s face. “Are they definitely stasis generators?” he asked.

“Sir, I believe two of the modules are stasis generators and two are negation generators.”

“The modules are far enough apart that we’ll need a separate particle beam shot to hit each one,” said Flint. “It’s never easy.”

His eyes went to the shield gauge. It was at eighteen percent. The twenty-second cooldown time of the nose beam gave the Endurus plenty of time to react between discharges, and Flint was sure he didn’t want to discover how many of those shield-draining particle beams the bay walls could generate. Once the Gorgadar started inflicting real harm on the Endurus, the enemy warship would have little choice other than to take immediate, punitive action.

The time for a decision had come.

“Commander Larson, target one of the stasis generators with our nose beam and hold for the order.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We can’t leave the oblex core behind and there’s no time to bring it into one of our bays,” Flint continued. “Lieutenant Maddox – destroy it with a missile. Fire at once.”

“Yes, sir. Targeting the oblex core.”

“Ten percent on our shield,” said Copeland.

“Missile launched,” Maddox confirmed.

The explosion was tiny in comparison to the bay, but Flint was confident the plasma detonation would be enough to make the core completely unsalvageable. Even so, as the flaming wreckage plummeted in the bay’s artificial gravity, he ordered Maddox to fire again.

“Missile launched, sir.”

Flint didn’t watch the second blast. “Commander Larson, fire the nose beam,” he said.

“Nose beam discharged,” said Larson.

The familiar broad line of intense energy lanced out from the Gorgadar’s nose housing. As Flint stared unblinking, he reached for the tactical in preparation for an SRT exit. The presence of two, rather than one, stasis generators was a development he hadn’t wanted.

If Flint and his crew pulled off this escape, they’d be leaving the Endurus with half of its stasis generation hardware intact, and he suspected that would be more than it needed to lock down and destroy the entire alliance fleet if it ever came to a full-scale engagement.

Often, the only way out of a pinch situation was to think and act fast, and Flint prepared himself for both.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Gorgadar’s particle beam shut off, revealing a vast hole in the bay wall. The insides of the hole burned with such a heat that the sensors weren’t able to determine if the particle beam had cut all the way through the enemy warship’s hull.

It was time to find out. Flint pressed his finger on the SRT activation button, his teeth clenched. The sensor feeds went offline and he felt the thump of a lightspeed transition. Flint held in the button, counting the duration in his head. At twelve seconds, the Gorgadar re-entered local space.

Hardly daring to hope, Flint requested maximum from the engines. If the Gorgadar was still – somehow - in the bay, the worst that could happen was a short-range collision and if that happened, Flint’s problems would be more significant than superficial damage to the warship’s nose.

The propulsion roared and the acceleration pressed Flint into his seat. No impact came.

“Sensors coming online!” yelled Burner.

The feeds were of darkness – for now, at least.

“How long left on the particle beam recharge?” asked Flint.

“Ten seconds, sir.” Larson looked across, wide-eyed. “Are we heading back for another shot?”

“Damn right we are,” said Flint. “We can’t leave the job half-finished. This might be our only chance to knock out the enemy’s stasis generation capability.”

“Sir, I’ll need to adjust the output of our particle beam again,” said Fredericks urgently. “Otherwise the Endurus might have adapted.”

“Damnit, how long?” asked Flint.

“Not long,” said Fredericks. “A minute. Maybe two.”

Flint wasn’t sure if the Gorgadar had a minute, let alone two, but he kept his mouth shut. The warship’s velocity gauge climbed strongly, though he doubted it would make a difference however high it went.

The Endurus appeared, a hundred thousand kilometres to starboard. Flint didn’t know how the enemy ship could track its opponents so readily across billions of kilometres, but it was an ability he’d had enough of.

“Activating SRT,” said Flint, crushing the button with his thumb.

Once again, the Gorgadar entered an extended mode 3 transit, from which it emerged a long way distant from its starting point. The moment he felt the warship enter local space, Flint activated another mode 3.

“That’s three of our four SRT modules on cooldown,” said Larson.

The Gorgadar shuddered with re-entry and Flint called on the sub-light propulsion. He doubted that two SRTs were going to be more effective than one, and he wanted to keep the final mode 3 in reserve, in case it was needed.

“Sensors coming up,” said Burner. “There’s nothing out there. Not yet.”

“How’s progress on the particle beam, Lieutenant Fredericks?” asked Flint. He could feel a death aura, faint and unwanted, though it gave him no clue about the proximity of his opponent.

“Coming along, sir,” said Fredericks. “It needs to be right.”

Flint watched the sensors anxiously. The Endurus wouldn’t give up, of that he was sure. It wanted the knowledge of exium and had already shown it was willing to suffer damage in the process of obtaining it.

“We’re being afflicted by stasis again, sir,” said Eastwood. “It’s a high-intensity field like before. I’m channelling additional power into our negation.”

“I can feel the death aura becoming stronger,” said Becerra.

“Shit, nothing on the sensors,” said Flint.

“At least we’re not in zero-time,” said Larson. “If we wrecked one of the enemy’s stasis generators, maybe it’s incapable of locking us down completely.”

Flint had no idea how far the Endurus could extend its stasis fields, but he was sure the enemy had once again followed the Gorgadar through lightspeed.

“It’s coming,” he muttered.

A speck of grey appeared on the topside sensors. It was the Endurus and it approached with incredible speed, matching velocity with the Gorgadar and maintaining a thousand-kilometre distance. The moment he saw the enemy vessel, Flint began to adjust the orientation of his warship, intending to bring the nose beam onto target. He noticed the darkness wreathing the Endurus’s hull and wondered what crap his opponent was preparing to unleash.

“It’s not about to let us get a second shot off with the particle beam,” he said, expecting to find his warship back within the null bay at any moment.

“That power build up on the enemy hull must have begun before the Endurus appeared on our sensors, sir,” said Eastwood. “It’s ready to discharge.”

Suddenly, the darkness on the enemy vessel’s hull dispersed and at the same time, the Gorgadar was hit by a concentrated death pulse. The force of it pushed Flint to the brink of unconsciousness and he fought to stay awake, his body defiant against this vile alien technology. He was dimly aware that the controls were no longer responding to his input and the Gorgadar’s nose beam was still way off target.

Flint tried to make sense of his control panel, in order to understand what had happened to his spaceship. His vision was blurred and he couldn’t comprehend the readouts before him.

The death pulse faded and immediately, Flint felt his body strengthen. His vision wasn’t yet recovered and he blinked rapidly to see if that would help. It didn’t.

“What’s happened to the controls?” he shouted.

“Not sure, sir,” came a voice, slurred and hardly recognizable.

“Second death pulse incoming,” said a different voice.

Flint saw to his horror that the hull of the Endurus had once again darkened. The enemy vessel discharged a second death pulse and it struck Flint like a hammer blow. It was bad, and yet, he felt it less than the one before, as if his body’s resistance grew with each exposure.

Wiping his watering eyes with the back of his glove, Flint saw the enemy was preparing for a third death pulse. The Endurus wasn’t intending to leave anyone alive to fire the particle beam.

Pulling at the controls again, Flint could now see the readings on his panel climb. The engines rose in volume, but the Gorgadar didn’t move.

“Gravity chains,” said the same voice as before – a voice now identifiable as that of Lieutenant Eastwood. “We’re caught in gravity chains.”

It was old tech, but the power of the chains could scale almost infinitely with the ternium backing them up, and judging by the mass of the Endurus, it had plenty in reserve.

The Endurus discharged its third death pulse and Flint shuddered like he’d been physically struck. This one hurt worse than the second, and he wondered if the enemy was altering the pulses each time and would persist until it was confident that nobody was left alive on the Gorgadar.

“Mode 3, sir,” said Larson.

Flint’s head was pounding and once again everything was a blur. He tapped a finger on the tactical, not caring where his warship ended up, and squeezed the SRT activation button as hard as he could manage. The sensors went offline and he felt a vibration through the controls. Flint held the SRT button down, but when the feeds came back, he discovered his warship hadn’t gone anywhere.

“The Endurus must be projecting a null, sir,” said Eastwood. “And Lieutenant Fredericks is either dead or unconscious.”

“Shit, someone get Corporal Hendrix up here,” said Flint.

“On it, sir,” said Garrett.

“Lieutenant Fredericks is still breathing,” said Becerra, having evidently left her seat to find out.

“Give him a shot of Frenziol,” said Flint, reaching into his leg pocket for his own injector. “I want everyone else to inject as well.” He cursed. “And we need to get out of this damned null. What can we do about it?”

“Our propulsion isn’t going to be enough, sir,” said Eastwood. “We’ll have to take out the null generator and the gravity chain hardware.”

“Neither of which we can accomplish,” said Flint in frustration and anger. He stabbed himself hard in the leg with his Frenziol needle and the pain and coldness of the drugs made him wince.

“No, sir. Even if we could aim the particle beam and knew where to fire it, we couldn’t destroy both pieces of hardware.”

“And we don’t know if Lieutenant Fredericks has finished altering the beam strength,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Eastwood, can you pick that up?”

“I might have to start from a few paces back, sir.”

“You’d best get on with it, then,” said Flint. Everything had gone wrong at once and he was fighting to maintain a semblance of calm.

“The Endurus is readying a fourth death pulse,” said Copeland.

“How many more before it gives up?” asked Maddox.

“It’s going to keep going until it believes we’re all dead,” said Flint.

“I’m not planning to die anytime soon, sir,” said Maddox. “These pulses aren’t nice, but I’m damned if they’re going to make me keel over.”

The fourth pulse came, like the worst ten-second hangover Flint had ever experienced. When the pain, the aching and the nausea faded, he saw that the Endurus was readying a fifth death pulse. Eventually, it would bring the Gorgadar back into the null bay and Flint hoped he might have another shot at the enemy’s second stasis generator. At the same time, he knew the Endurus wouldn’t be caught out again.

When the fifth death pulse struck, it made Flint doubt his optimism of only moments before. The intensity of it was such that his head spun and he was glad for the harness keeping him upright in his seat.

“Damn that one was rough,” said Burner. He started coughing and he sounded like a dying man.

“Stay with us, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

“I’m not going anywhere, sir,” said Burner, between coughs.

“We have to do something,” said Larson.

“I know, Commander,” said Flint. “Options are limited.”

“We should at least try to put the Endurus in stasis again, sir. Even if we’re in a null.”

“Lieutenant Eastwood, do what Commander Larson suggests,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. It won’t work.”

“Do it anyway.”

Flint’s vision was clear enough that he could see the readouts on his panel climb enormously and then drop back. The Endurus remained exactly where it was, its velocity still matched.

“We can’t do anything in this null, sir,” said Eastwood.

The sixth death pulse was the worst of them all, and it blew away Flint’s earlier confidence that his body was on the brink of immunity. He suffered and yet he still survived. One remote part of Flint’s brain told him he should be proud of how he’d resisted everything the Endurus had thrown at him.

Right now, Flint was feeling anything but proud. His defiance hadn’t gone anywhere, but it was being assailed by the pain of each successive death pulse. Worse than the pain was the feeling of helplessness. The Gorgadar was trapped and even packed with the altered exium modules and with its life batteries full, the warship couldn’t escape.

All Flint could do was wait for the Endurus to fire its last death pulse, and, if he was still alive, he’d witness this most terrible of enemies dismantle his warship and extract from it the most powerful substance known.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The seventh death pulse was easier to cope with than the sixth. Although Flint didn’t try to convince himself that he’d definitely live, he was beginning to accept that he probably would. No other members of his crew had died and Lieutenant Fredericks was conscious again, though judging by his mumbling, he wasn’t exactly coherent.

“We could fire the destabiliser, sir,” said Larson. She looked tired, but her voice was unaffected by the death pulses.

Flint had already considered the weapon, but couldn’t imagine that the Endurus was in any way vulnerable to a death sphere, and he didn’t know if the destabiliser would activate from within the null.

“I can’t see that it’s—” He shrugged. “Let’s give it a try.”

He was about to take his hands off the controls in order to bring the destabiliser online, when the Gorgadar resumed its rotation from earlier. Flint’s heart jumped.

“What the—" he said, fumbling to steady the warship.

“Sir! The Ancidium has appeared out of lightspeed!” said Burner.

“The Endurus’s hull output has dropped to almost zero, sir!” said Eastwood. “I don’t know what happened, but now’s our chance!”

Flint had always known that Recker didn’t abandon his own, but he hadn’t been so sure the man would risk everything on a rescue.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, did you finish with the particle beam?” shouted Flint.

“Uh, yes, sir. I think so,” said Fredericks. He didn’t sound fully awake.

“Commander Larson, be ready on the nose beam!” said Flint. “You’re targeting the second stasis generator!”

Such was the surprise, that he’d already overcompensated on the Gorgadar’s positioning and he tried to remain calm as he corrected his error. The nose beam had little in the way of adjustment and it had to be aimed just so.

“Hold right there, sir!” said Larson.

Flint’s muscles were tight and he nearly overshot again. Experience won out and he held the Gorgadar steady.

“Now!” he yelled.

“Nose beam fired,” said Larson.

The particle beam plunged into the enemy warship’s armour and Flint hoped more than anything that Fredericks had finished his alterations to the weapon’s power output.

“Yes!” shouted Flint as he saw the enormous hole in the opposing warship’s armour.

The heat from the particle beam expanded rapidly and with enough force to rupture the surface plating around the opening. Debris was torn loose and seeing this new damage inflicted upon his enemy gave Flint a surge of adrenaline which washed away the vestiges of seven death pulses.

“We need to get out of here, sir!” said Larson.

Flint’s brain was recovering from the trauma and he pieced things together. The Ancidium – currently half a billion kilometres from the Gorgadar – had fired a weapon capable of knocking the Endurus offline. How long the enemy ship would remain in that state, Flint didn’t know. Certainly it didn’t seem wise to stick around and take potshots – the Endurus had lost its stasis generation capabilities and that seemed like a damned good outcome, all things considered.

“Admiral Recker asks what the hell we’re doing, sir,” said Burner. “We’re to return to the Ancidium immediately.”

Flint responded at once and activated the Gorgadar’s final SRT module. The warship entered and exited lightspeed, and emerged with its sensors offline. Now that escape was within reach, Flint couldn’t contemplate any alternative and he gripped the controls tightly as he waited for the sensor feeds to come back.

The bulkhead screen lit up and the portside feeds were filled with grey and black. For a split-second, Flint thought he was looking at the Endurus, heading towards the Gorgadar at a high velocity. Then, he realised it was the Ancidium, travelling flank-first and with one of its bay doors open. That bay opening was thirty kilometres across, and the Gorgadar measured twenty-nine thousand kilometres from end to end. It would have been tight, but the Ancidium was coming at enough of an angle that the smaller ship was brought into the bay tunnel without scraping the sides.

Now the sensors were online, Flint wanted to assist, but he knew when it was time to leave well alone and he held the Gorgadar motionless.

“The outer bay door is closing,” said Garrett.

“We’re going to enter lightspeed at any moment,” Flint predicted. The Ancidium had a thirty-second warmup for a lightspeed jump, but Recker would have surely begun the process already.

The bay door sealed the Ancidium’s hull and the darkness of space was replaced by the darkness of the huge warship’s interior. A faint sense of transition followed.

“We made it,” said Maddox.

Flint could hardly bring himself to believe. “That we did,” he said.

Now that the Gorgadar was inside the Ancidium, Flint took over the piloting and guided the warship along the remainder of the linking tunnel and into one of the monumental construction bays. The Axindar was motionless in the space, up near the bay ceiling, and a few dozen Lavorix battleships were parked at the far end.

Before Flint could ask, he received instructions on the comms. Everyone was to disembark. How the life energy was to be transferred from the Gorgadar’s batteries, Flint didn’t know. Admiral Recker was, by now, aware that the mission had been a success, and the life batteries were something he could deal with.

After he’d brought the Gorgadar to a standstill, Flint unclipped his harness and, when he stood, was surprised at how steady his legs were.

Indigar

Flint was not allowed time to rest, and nor had he expected an opportunity to put his feet up. From the Gorgadar, he was ordered to a meeting with Recker. He found the Fleet Admiral alone in one of the anonymous rooms which were rife within the Ancidium. It was cold and gloomy inside, though no Lavorix corpses lay on the floor.

“You did well,” said Recker, once Flint had completed his description of events.

“If the Endurus has only two stasis generators, we’ve done it some real harm, sir,” said Flint.

“I have someone assigning teams to comb through the rest of the files you extracted,” said Recker. “If there are other stasis generators within the Endurus, we’ll know soon enough.” He smiled thinly. “A shame our enemy can still negate stasis. Putting it in zero-time would have been a possibility with the Gorgadar’s overcharged exium modules.”

“I don’t think we could put the Endurus in stasis forever, sir.”

“No, probably not,” Recker admitted. “However, that’s one can I’d gladly kick down the road for a decade or two – until we could figure out a permanent solution.”

“What next, sir?” asked Flint.

“We’re going to stay at lightspeed for a time,” said Recker. “Certainly for long enough to transfer the life energy from the Gorgadar to the Ancidium’s life batteries. Firing the disruptor at the Endurus drained the reserve power from eleven percent to one percent.”

“Is that the weapon which destroyed the Evia star, sir?” asked Flint.

“Yes. The disruptor has a varying output. Two percent from the life batteries is enough to create a discharge capable of producing a supernova. Ten percent from the batteries is the most the weapon can handle and that’s what I gave the Endurus. It seemed best to be safe.”

“How long will the Endurus stay offline?” asked Flint. “And will the disruptor have caused any permanent damage?”

“Who knows?” Recker shrugged, though it was obvious he had the same questions. “We escaped and, for the moment, that’s enough.”

“What’s next, sir?”

“As soon as I feel it’s safe to exit lightspeed, I’m going to take the Ancidium to Indigar,” said Recker. “We need to load our construction bays, whatever the risk.”

“And there will be a risk,” said Flint.

“As ever.” Recker grunted. “The Ancidium may well soon meet its maker, but this vessel now belongs to the alliance. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it stays in our control.”

Recker had never known defeat, though he’d come close on many occasions. His determination – having wavered in the past - was now as potent as ever. When Flint saw it, his optimism - which had been through its own trials – strengthened.

Perhaps the Endurus would, in the end, prove itself beyond the alliance, but the recent mission had proved one vital truth – the enemy was not undefeatable.

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Soon, Flint knew he’d be facing the Endurus again. Next time, he told himself, his victory would be total.

* * *

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Other Science Fiction Books by Anthony James

Survival Wars (Seven Books) – Available in eBook, Paperback and Audio.

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