REPULSOR

GUNS OF THE FEDERATION

BOOK 6

ANTHONY JAMES

CONTENTS

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

Gavax’Kol

Also by Anthony James

© 2022 Anthony James

All rights reserved

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

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

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

Illustration © Tom Edwards

TomEdwardsDesign.com

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ONE

Almost three days had passed since Captain Jed Grisham and his crew had escaped the remote, unnamed planet where they’d discovered the alien warship Urzox. The Ax’Kol capital ship Exetran – known as the Third – had almost ruined everything, and, had its arrival at that place been only seconds earlier, Grisham was sure he’d now be dead, instead of sitting on the bridge of the Urzox as it hurtled through lightspeed.

“Are you still planning to return us to local space at the three-day mark, Captain?” asked Commander Lois Deneuve from the station immediately to Grisham’s left.

“Yes - four hours from now, just like we discussed,” Grisham confirmed. His fingers were wrapped around the alloy control bars for the warship, even though those controls did nothing at lightspeed.

“It’ll be real bad news if the Exetran is able to follow the Urzox in the same way as it could follow the Voltran,” said Lieutenant Mac Adler, from his station behind and to the left.

This was something Grisham and his crew had discussed many times, but he didn’t mind. Sometimes the repetition would lead to new ideas.

Grisham kept his gaze on the one-point-five-metre screen on top of his ancient-looking command console. The screen curved inwards so that its contents were always within his visual arc, and alien symbols rolled upwards in several of the smaller windows.

Through his mind link to the spaceship, Grisham could understand it all – both the script and the underlying technical meaning. The symbols were ongoing status updates, and the Urzox was operating within its expected bounds.

One significant difference between this warship and the Voltran was that Grisham couldn’t form a mind link remotely – he could only connect here, on the bridge. As yet, he hadn’t decided if the change was significant, or if he should be worried about it. The Urzox was different and there was still plenty to learn about it.

“We’ll find out one way or another once we exit lightspeed,” said Grisham. “Even if we have to sit on our asses and watch the sensor feeds for a week.”

“And we’ll have a chance to try out the weapons,” said Deneuve.

While the warship was at lightspeed, its weapons systems were unavailable, its sensors and comms were offline, and several other subsystems were locked out. Consequently, many of the Urzox’s capabilities were unknown, though none of the crew had high hopes. When they’d found the warship, it had been surrounded by hundreds of other alien vessels, few of which looked as if they could challenge a Human Federation Tibor, let alone something with real firepower.

That left the Urzox’s psionics as the only offensive aspect of the warship likely to impress. The vessel’s consciousness was like a vast, deep ocean, and the currents of its thoughts ran beneath the surface such that Grisham could sense them, without knowing what the warship was thinking – if indeed it was thinking at all.

On the Voltran, he’d been able to push through the protective layers around the vessel’s consciousness and communicate directly with the billions of souls from which it been created.

Admittedly, Grisham hadn’t yet attempted this feat, which had become natural to him on the Voltran. Given his general lack of knowledge about metaphysical consciousnesses formed from the sacrifices of billions of living creatures, he thought it best to take the softly-softly approach – just in case he broke something, or the Urzox turned hostile.

“We have a lot of testing to do, folks,” said Grisham.

“But there’s none of us think we’ve found a tool capable of defeating the Ax’Kol,” said Lieutenant Dan Bishop. He was at a station behind and to the right of the command console.

“Nope,” said Adler.

So, the Urzox’s crew were far from home, in a warship of undetermined potency, and with the possibility that the Exetran was still in pursuit of the Andos artifact which Grisham was keeping in the leg pocket of his combat suit.

At least we’re alive, thought Grisham.

“I’m heading to the mess,” he said, rising suddenly from his seat. “You’ll all have a turn after. This might be the last chance to stretch our legs for a while.”

Grisham exited the bridge through the three-metre door in the aft bulkhead. A passage ran port-to-starboard directly in front of him, and he headed portside. The corridors in the Urzox were well enough lit, but their tightness made everything seem gloomy – a state that was exaggerated by the near-black biological material from which much of the spaceship had been formed.

Less than a hundred metres from the bridge, Grisham entered the Urzox’s mess room. Although the warship had the internal space to accommodate thousands of personnel, this was the only mess room which had been completed. A few other areas had also been fitted out, albeit in an alien style.

Sergeant Tyrus Maxwell was already here, along with every member of his squad. The mess area was furnished with a dozen low metal tables, all served by highbacked padded seats clad in the same blue leatherlike material as the seats on the bridge. Despite being millions of years old, the warship’s life support systems had kept everything in perfect repair.

A couple of the soldiers greeted Grisham as he went along the central aisle towards the Urzox’s replicator. The soldiers had brought the Human Federation replicator with them from the Voltran, but the device was parked in a room a short distance away. This, the original replicator on the warship, had been a challenge the soldiers were all-too willing to take up.

Grisham stopped in front of the device and poked at the rudimental keypad on the front panel. Each press of the key produced a sharp click, and the green symbols on the display changed. Trial and error had taught him that this particular combination would produce an orange-coloured drink that tasted like fruit.

The replicator gurgled and deposited a silver-coloured plasticky cup into the rectangular slot at the bottom. Grisham drained the contents of the cup in one go and then stabbed in his next selection. More gurgling followed, and this time, a tray appeared, upon which were a variety of pastes that might have been replicated ground-up alien insects for all he knew, but which nonetheless tasted good.

Grisham sat with the soldiers for the short time it took him to finish his pastes. The conversation was sparse – everyone needed a break from the endless running.

Once he was done eating, Grisham returned the tray to the replicator, where it was sucked away into the bowels of the machine. Then, he decided to take the long way back to the bridge.

The interior of the Urzox was logically-enough laid out and Grisham wasn’t in much danger of getting lost. As he walked along the passages, he breathed in the odours of age which clung to the warship. While the scents weren’t exactly pleasant, they lacked the Ax’Kol taint, which had always been evident on the Voltran. In fact, the smell of the Urzox reminded Grisham a little of damp forests and rotting wood, and, while he couldn’t forget the origins of the spaceship, he was glad those origins weren’t continually obvious.

Grisham paused for a short time at one of the areas intended for the warship personnel’s off-duty hours. He looked into one of the furnished bunk rooms, which contained twenty metal-framed beds. The beds were approximately human-sized and their spongey mattresses were comfortable enough. This room was empty, but the soldiers slept in another one like it, not far along this same corridor.

Six smaller, individual rooms were accessed from a nearby passage. These rooms contained single beds and a couple of empty storage chests, as well as being furnished with desks and wall-mounted viewscreens.

Grisham was about to look into one of the rooms, as he’d done several times since boarding the Urzox. He stopped himself. The cabins bore such a resemblance to those on a human warship that they brought out a peculiar sadness and longing in Grisham.

He returned to the bridge, where he offered Deneuve and Lieutenant Eric Kinsey the opportunity to take a short break. Both accepted and disappeared from the bridge to do whatever they would do.

“Three hours and we’ll cancel this lightspeed transit,” said Grisham.

According to the Urzox’s monitoring tools, the warship’s mind had intended the journey to last fifty years, which suggested its perception of time had become distorted by the millions of years spent on the planet of its construction. Grisham was keen to stay ahead of the Exetran, but the thought of remaining at lightspeed until he was eighty-four years old had never been an option.

“I wonder how far we’ll have travelled at the end of these three days,” said Bishop. “If we can figure that out, we’ll be better placed to reconcile the positional memories from the Voltran’s minds with the data in the Urzox’s navigational system and the star charts in our combat suit computers.”

“I’m glad I have you and Lieutenant Lopez to handle problems like that one,” said Grisham.

“The species which built the Urzox hadn’t travelled far, that much is sure,” said Lieutenant Kaci Lopez. “At least not compared to the Human Federation.”

“And that’s why we’re so concerned about this warship’s lightspeed multiplier,” said Adler, not for the first time. “If the Urzox’s engines are as crappy as all the other technology appears to be, we might be looking at a five-year ride home, assuming we can work out where home is, and assuming the Exetran is no longer in pursuit.”

Grisham knew of the many problems and hoped they would not be insurmountable. He called up the technical data for the Urzox’s weapons systems. While none of those weapons would fire at lightspeed, he could still access their specifications.

“Alturian turret 1 and Alturian turret 2,” Grisham said, remembering how visually impressive the topside gauss cannons had seemed the first time he’d seen the Urzox.

“The power units in those turrets aren’t good enough to generate a high projectile velocity,” said Adler, who’d done some napkin maths on the subject a couple of days ago. “I doubt those guns would trouble a Kijol cruiser, let alone an Eternus or an Ax’Kol Indredalus. Even landing a hit would be tough.”

“Don’t keep reminding me,” said Grisham.

He accessed the data for the Urzox’s missile systems. The warship had a paltry twenty-four launchers – that was single launchers, not clusters – positioned about its hull. Each launcher was designed to eject one Hazik missile. Those missiles had massive propulsion sections and huge warheads, but in terms of technological sophistication, they were lacking. Lieutenant Adler had expressed his concern that the weapons wouldn’t be able to outrun anything beyond a Tibor-class and even then, the manoeuvrability of the missiles wasn’t likely to be a match for a halfway competent pilot.

Grisham thought he’d come to terms with the limitations of the Urzox, but reading the tech specs again was enough to make him feel a pang for the lost Voltran. Given the choice, right here and now, he’d have swapped his new warship for his old one in an instant.

The time to Grisham’s intended return to local space neared. When Lieutenant Adler shouted out a ten-minute reminder, all members of the crew were on the bridge. Looking across at Deneuve, Grisham saw the tell-tale indications on her face that betrayed her inner feelings.

Deneuve smiled thinly as she became aware of the scrutiny. “The moment of truth approaches, huh?”

“We’ve got a few moments of truth ahead of us, Commander.”

“Let’s hope our expectations are greatly exceeded, sir.”

“Amen to that,” said Grisham. “We fought our way to the top, and I don’t want to sink down to the bottom again.”

“Like hell is that going to happen,” said Deneuve. “If we make it home, you’re going to be offered command of the first available HF battleship.”

“That’s not what I want, Commander.” Grisham took one hand off the controls and used it to indicate everything around him. “This is what I want – for the Urzox to be the Ax’Kol-destroying construction we thought it might be in those first few moments after we set eyes on it.”

Deneuve nodded and this time, her smile was tinged with sadness. “It’s what I want too. It’s what all of us want.”

“A tool to beat the Ax’Kol,” said Grisham. He reached out and patted his console. “Maybe we’ll be surprised by what the Urzox can do. After all, this warship contains five minds now. Even if its weapons systems are powered by clockwork, it’s got to be capable of something special when it comes to the psionics.”

Speaking the words made Grisham feel better. At the earliest opportunity, he intended running through some comprehensive tests of the Urzox’s psionics. However, and regardless of the outcome, he suspected the warship would be crippled by the age of its propulsion and all the other linked subsystems.

“Two minutes!” shouted Adler.

Grisham hauled his mind into the present. In a couple of minutes, he’d bring an end to the Urzox’s lightspeed transit. Then, he and his crew would discover if the colossal Ax’Kol warship Exetran was still in pursuit. Before the answer to that was revealed, they would need to figure out exactly how the Urzox functioned, having been unable to practice while the spaceship was at lightspeed.

Tightening his hands on the controls, Grisham readied himself.

TWO

The Urzox’s propulsion note changed from a soothing drone in the background to something with a harder, more guttural edge.

“We have re-entered local space,” said Lieutenant Adler.

“Waiting on—” Lieutenant Lopez began. “The sensors are back online.”

“That was quicker than I expected,” said Grisham. “Much quicker.”

Grisham discovered that his interface with the Urzox allowed him to access the feeds just by a simple thought, in a way that was indistinguishable to the method he’d employed on the Voltran. Those feeds appeared in his mind and he could switch between them at will.

In addition, Grisham soon learned that he was able to command the feeds of his choice onto the physical screen on his console, thereby giving him the option of how he wanted the data presented.

So far, so good.

“We’re not going to have any problems operating the sensors, Captain – it’s all straightforward,” said Lieutenant Bishop. “Now let’s see what they’re capable of – running local area sweep.”

“We’re on the fringes of a solar system,” said Lieutenant Lopez a few moments later. “I’ve detected a star at an approximate distance of three billion klicks. Our arrays are gathering a crapload of data.”

“Look for a planet,” said Grisham. “Just in case we need someplace to hide.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And so we can test out the weaponry,” said Deneuve.

“That too,” said Grisham.

“Uh, Captain, our sensor arrays are incredible,” said Bishop. “The local area scans are done and I was able to cover a far greater volume than I could have done on the Voltran.”

Grisham nodded but didn’t press for specifics – he was sure his sensor officers would tell him more once they’d familiarised themselves with the hardware. He experienced a renewed flicker of excitement.

“I’ve located a planet, Captain,” said Bishop. “Let’s see if I can put it up on the tactical.”

The tactical was easily accessed across the interface, and a green circle appeared on it, along with overlays indicating the planet’s distance – a hundred million kilometres from the Urzox - and its velocity along its orbital track. Preferring to have this information in front of his eyes, Grisham transferred it onto his viewscreen.

“Are we going to check out that planet, sir?” asked Deneuve.

The hundred-million-kilometre distance between here and the planet was surely too far for the Urzox’s sensors to detect the arrival of the Exetran, if indeed it was still in pursuit, but Grisham planned to rely on the Andos to give him warning about the enemy vessel. The artifact produced a background whispering he could detect with his telepathic powers. If the Exetran exited lightspeed anywhere in this solar system, Grisham was confident the Andos would know about it.

“We’ll head over there shortly,” said Grisham. “First, I’d like to test the propulsion.”

He was on the verge of giving a command for the warship to accelerate, when he realised the central mind was generating a low-level of psionic power. It was something he’d learned to detect on the Voltran when the spaceship was using its offensive or defensive capabilities, but he wasn’t sure why the Urzox was using its psionics when it wasn’t in combat.

Tentatively, Grisham extended his mind towards the warship’s consciousness, wondering if he’d run into the same barrier of grey nothingness which had surrounded the Voltran’s own consciousness. On that former warship, the grey was yielding, though in a way that its resistance increased the deeper into it Grisham had plunged – until he’d gained acceptance, at least. Then, he’d been able to journey into the warship’s consciousness without effort.

Here on the Urzox, it was different. Grisham ran into an unmoving wall that surrounded the vessel’s central mind. That wall was in a place of apparent nothingness – there was no sight, no smell, no sound. The wall was simply there. Ringed by its protection were the life energies of billions of sentient creatures which had sacrificed themselves to the making of the warship’s mind.

Grisham increased his pressure against the wall and it didn’t budge. He could sense the mind within it, a vast and alien entity that knew of him. The warship’s thoughts drifted fast and slow, both endless and ephemeral, just beyond the wall.

In the moments after he’d first linked his mind to the Urzox, Grisham had sensed that the vessel’s mind was both incredibly powerful and yet without knowledge at the same time. It contained so many elements, mixed together, that the individuality of those life essences had been lost. Whether this was by accident or design, Grisham didn’t know.

Remembering his earlier reluctance to impose himself on the warship’s mind, he withdrew and sought out the Voltran’s four minds. To Grisham’s surprise, they were also within the same protective barrier and he was unable to find the grey. Whether this was a good change or a bad change, he felt sadness all the same. Perhaps, Grisham thought, he’d be able to restore his connection to those souls in the future.

The time to push wasn’t now, and his full focus returned to the bridge. Only a few seconds had passed, though Deneuve was already looking his way.

“I got drawn off into some exploring,” said Grisham in response to her raised eyebrow.

Deneuve didn’t ask for details. “You were about to test the engines, Captain.”

“That I was,” said Grisham.

Without further delay and unsure what to expect, he sent a command to the Urzox. The hard-edged roar from the propulsion, which was muffled by the warship’s biological walls, increased in volume. On Grisham’s console, the electronic velocity gauge climbed rapidly, though the symbols on the display were alien measurements that he had no way of converting into meaningful numbers.

The engines roared louder and louder, making Grisham think they relied entirely on mass rather than technological finesse. Still, there was something raw and pure about the sound that made the hairs on his arms want to stand up.

As he watched the velocity gauge progress at the same near-linear rate, Grisham wondered where it would stop.

Suddenly, the numbers on the gauge changed so they were identical to those used within the Human Federation. Already, the warship was travelling past seven hundred kilometres per second, and showed no sign of slowing.

“I think the Voltran’s minds are running an interpretation,” said Adler, quickly guessing the reason for the change. “Either that or they’ve updated the Urzox’s existing systems.”

“The same thing is happening for the star charts, Captain,” said Lieutenant Bishop. “All the data from the Voltran has fed through to the Urzox’s navigational system. There’re some other locations which were just revealed once we exited lightspeed – they must be the places known to the species which built this warship.”

“Check those places out, Lieutenant,” said Grisham, raising his voice above the background noise of the propulsion. “But maybe not now.”

“I’ll take a look as soon as I get the chance, sir,” said Bishop.

“Eight hundred klicks per second and still climbing,” said Adler. “I can make sense of the instrumentation now, and the Urzox’s engines aren’t generating a fraction of the energy needed to achieve such a velocity.”

“The psionic output from the central mind has increased tenfold since you commanded the warship to accelerate, Captain,” said Kinsey. “I can see it on the monitoring tools.”

Grisham added two and two. “The Urzox’s mind must be boosting the engines,” he said.

“You might be right, Captain,” said Adler. “Certainly there’s no way this spaceship could be travelling at such a high sub-light velocity without something giving it a helping hand.”

“How high will it go?” Grisham wondered aloud.

He got his answer soon after - the Urzox’s velocity needle touched on a thousand kilometres per second and climbed no higher. Grisham checked the psionic output from the warship’s mind and found it had stabilised. He had no way to be sure if the current output was a strain for the Urzox to maintain, or if it required hardly any effort at all.

“What would happen if you ordered the warship’s mind to divert more of its psionic energy into the propulsion?” asked Deneuve.

“That’s the exact same question I’m asking myself, Commander,” said Grisham. He grinned. “Let’s find out.”

Grisham issued an instruction to remove the limits on the psionic power being fed into the engines. To his puzzlement, he received a return request along the interface, asking him to confirm his destination. He fed back the first thought that jumped into his head.

A tremendous burst of psionic energy pressurized the air in the bridge. The intensity of it was such that Grisham felt like he’d been physically struck, though not to such an extent that he was debilitated. The expulsion faded as quickly as it had come, and he noticed that the sensors had gone offline.

“What the hell happened?” Grisham said. “What’s our status?”

Before anyone could answer, the sensors came back online and, where the forward feed had only a moment ago been aimed into nothingness, now it was aimed directly at a grey-rock planet. The Urzox was no longer travelling at a thousand kilometres per second. In fact, it was motionless.

“Two of the four satellite minds went into dormancy, Captain,” said Deneuve. “I don’t why and I don’t know how long they’re going to stay offline.”

“Run a local area sweep!” Grisham ordered.

“I’m on it, Captain,” said Lopez.

Already, Grisham was piecing things together, but he was waiting for the results of the local area scan before he revealed his thoughts.

“The local area sweep has come back clear, sir,” said Bishop.

“That planet on the forward feeds is the one we detected when we first arrived in this solar system, Captain,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “We’ve travelled approximately one hundred million kilometres from our last position.”

“The Urzox executed a psionic jump,” Grisham said. “Like the Ax’Kol commanders we ran into on Hevos were able to do.”

“And the energy requirements were such that two of the warship’s minds were forced into dormancy,” said Deneuve. “From the audit list, the Urzox classified what we did as a psionic: displacement.”

“A hundred million klicks travelled in the blink of an eye and without the need for a lightspeed warmup,” said Adler, in stunned disbelief. “There’s a power spike on the propulsion that’s way beyond anything the hardware can generate. I have no idea how the engines were able to cope with it.”

“Look into it when you get the chance,” said Grisham. “I don’t want us to break anything through ignorance.”

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “Damnit, but I’m already having to revise my earlier feelings that the Urzox is nothing more than a bucket of bolts with a few psionic powers.”

“What’re your feelings now, Lieutenant?” asked Grisham.

“I reckon we might have stumbled upon something that’s way better than—” Adler cut himself off. “I’m not going to jump to conclusions, sir. Let’s just see what our testing unearths.”

“That’s what I planned to do, Lieutenant,” said Grisham, not even trying to hide his own eagerness. “We’ve come all this way to the planet, so let’s get blindside from our original starting place, in case the Exetran turns up.”

The planet was less than sixty thousand kilometres away and it was nothing remarkable, with a diameter of fifty thousand kilometres, a stony, barren surface, and a stormy atmosphere full of noxious gasses that would kill any known lifeforms in a couple of breaths – assuming those lifeforms hadn’t already perished to the sub-zero temperatures.

Holding the Urzox to a velocity that was three-quarters of its maximum, Grisham piloted the warship around to the far side of the planet. Like Lieutenant Bishop had said earlier, the Urzox’s sensor hardware was immensely capable, and the feeds were beautifully sharp. When Grisham explored the connection between the warship’s mind and the arrays, he discovered a flow of psionic energy.

“The Urzox is using its telepathy to augment the data gathered by the sensors,” said Grisham. “The hardware pulls in what it can, and the warship’s mind sees the rest and adds it to the feeds.”

“It’ll be interesting to find out what kind of enhancement we’ll be able to obtain from that,” said Bishop. “But I’m worried that we’re relying too much on the Urzox’s consciousness. What if gets shut down?”

“Then we’re screwed anyway,” said Grisham. “However, I acknowledge the point you made – it does sound as if the species which built the Urzox were relying on psionics to cover the limitations of their technology.”

“When we first boarded the Voltran, it felt for a time like we were back at square one,” said Adler. “We had a spaceship and we didn’t have a damned clue how to make the best use out of it. That’s not the case now – we’ve still got plenty to learn, but we’re not starting from nothing.”

“I agree,” said Grisham. “Our experience on the Voltran will give us a real springboard when it comes to figuring things out here on the Urzox.”

“The two dormant minds came back online, Captain,” said Deneuve. “They were shut down for exactly five minutes.”

“We’ll run some further tests later, to find out if the offline period is consistently at that value,” said Grisham.

A short time after, the Urzox was at the far side of the planet. Grisham linked to the Andos and sensed no alarm from the artifact. If the Exetran remained in pursuit, it hadn’t yet arrived in this solar system.

Grisham reduced the Urzox’s velocity to zero and then looked across at Deneuve.

“It’s time to test out the weaponry, Commander.”

THREE

“Hazik missile launched from portside tube #1,” said Deneuve once she’d chosen a target on the planet below.

Grisham watched with interest. A huge, cylindrical missile was ejected from its launch tube, and he expected it to accelerate steadily across the intervening sixty thousand kilometres. Instead, the missile vanished from the feeds. A few moments later, a huge explosion – a massive explosion - tore a hole in the side of a mountain on the planet’s surface.

“That was…impressive,” said Deneuve.

“There’s no way the shell of that missile – let alone the other components – could have survived that level of acceleration,” said Adler. “And yet, here I am, staring at the blast.”

“Fire a second missile, Commander,” said Grisham. “This time, I want the sensors tracking it as it goes.”

“Target selected,” said Deneuve.

“The sensors are set to automatic tracking,” Bishop confirmed.

“Hazik missile launched from portside tube #2,” said Deneuve.

The second missile emerged slowly enough that Grisham’s brain was fast enough to see it happen. Then, the weapon accelerated with incredible velocity, tracked by the Urzox’s sensors. It struck the same mountain as the first and the detonation was no less impressive.

“The Urzox is using its psionics to accelerate the missiles, Captain,” said Deneuve. “Damn, who needs technology when your warship’s mind can do stuff like this?” She lowered her brow. “It’s not all good news – the reload on portside tube #1 has just this moment finished.”

“So our missiles pack a punch, but they reload slowly,” said Grisham. “Let’s find out what the Alturian guns can do.”

Deneuve was waiting for the order. “Targeting forward guns onto the planet’s surface.”

Grisham watched the forwardmost of the Urzox’s two top-mounted turrets rotate. The motion wasn’t exactly glacial, but it was slow enough to make him think that the weapons wouldn’t be much use in an engagement involving many changes of direction. Almost every engagement, in other words.

“Forward Alturian turret: firing from both barrels,” said Deneuve.

The two immense barrels – each almost five hundred metres long and supported by underside rails - jerked back so deeply into the turret that they almost vanished. Another mountain, a few kilometres from the one struck by the Hazik missiles – crumbled beneath twin gauss impacts. Grisham wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he thought he saw a grey distortion on the feed, which rippled out from the impact area.

He shook his head in wonder at the outcome of the weapons test. “A single discharge from that one turret might conceivably be enough to wreck an Ax’Kol Indredalus,” he said. “Or an HF battleship.”

“Maybe even an Eternus,” said Deneuve. “In case you hadn’t already guessed, the Alturian slugs were psionically accelerated out of their barrels.”

“Did we gather a reading of the muzzle velocity?” asked Grisham.

“Two hundred thousand klicks per second, sir,” said Lopez. “Don’t ask me to double-check that, because I already did.”

“Well shit,” said Adler. Saying it once wasn’t enough and he said it again. “That’s incredible. The Human Federation hasn’t been able to achieve even a fraction of that velocity from its gauss weaponry – not even in a lab using low-mass projectiles. Hell, we’re not close to that on a theoretical level, let alone being able to accelerate a 150-thousand-ton projectile to such a high velocity along a five-hundred-metre barrel.”

“Ever since we recovered the Voltran from Ovintus, we’ve known that technology isn’t the only means to an end, Lieutenant,” said Grisham.

“I know, sir, you’re right,” said Adler. “But still…damn.”

“What was the maximum velocity achieved by the Hazik missiles?” asked Grisham.

“The second missile hit forty thousand kilometres per second a short time after it was ejected from its launch tube, Captain,” said Lieutenant Lopez.

“It’s definitely possible to construct a missile capable of withstanding those kinds of accelerative forces,” said Adler, “But there’s nothing within either the Human Federation or Kijol arsenals that are built that strong. Even if we figured out a way to make a Fury missile travel twice as fast its current maximum, we’d reach the limits of its structural resilience long before we could make use of the increased velocity.”

“The Hazik missiles kept accelerating once they’d exited their launch tubes,” said Grisham. “That means the Urzox was projecting its psionic energy outside of its hull.”

“And using that energy to maintain the integrity of the missile during the acceleration period,” said Deneuve. “Which leaves us with a big problem.”

“Manoeuvrability,” said Grisham.

“Yes, Captain. If the technology behind the Hazik missiles isn’t anything special – once the psionics are taken out of the equation – then I wouldn’t expect them to track a moving target with any degree of reliability.”

“Maybe the psionics will take care of that too,” said Grisham. “Or maybe we just need to be smart with how we deploy our missiles.”

“The Urzox can generate a suppression attack,” said Deneuve. “We’ll have to shut down our opponents and then blow them into pieces.”

“But we don’t have a psionic: slow to protect ourselves from incoming missiles,” said Grisham.

“The psionic: shatter is classified as a defensive ability, Captain,” said Deneuve. “Unfortunately, there’s no description as to what it does.”

“I’ll see if I can find out,” said Grisham.

Using his link to the warship, he queried its mind about the use of the psionic: shatter defence. Unfortunately, the Urzox didn’t know. Grisham returned his attention to the bridge and informed Deneuve.

“How the hell is it possible that the warship doesn’t know what its own psionic powers are used for?” asked Deneuve.

“This vessel wasn’t finished when we found it, Commander,” said Grisham, fumbling for an explanation. “Maybe the species who created the mind intended to implant further information once the Urzox was completed.”

“I guess the reasons don’t matter one way or the other,” said Deneuve. She gave a what-are-you-going-to-do? kind of shrug. “The psionic: shatter won’t target on anything within our sensor range, so we can’t test it out. I’m sure it’ll become available in a combat situation, but that’s not the best time to be learning how our defences work.”

“Unless we can find some small-fry Ax’Kol spaceships to bully,” said Adler. “Except those assholes only ever show up when they’re not wanted.”

Grisham leaned back in his seat – a seat which was surprisingly comfortable, given that it had seemingly been designed for a creature both taller and slimmer than he was – and considered what he and his crew had learned about the Urzox. The propulsion was certainly vastly more capable than he’d anticipated and, while the weaponry was something of a mixed bag, Grisham reckoned it could be devastating in the right circumstances.

Aside from the propulsion and the weaponry, the warship’s psionic strength was unknown. Grisham had a hunch that the Urzox’s psionics would be as capable as he hoped, but without some in-combat testing, he couldn’t be sure. Certainly, he didn’t want to run those tests against a vessel like the Exetran.

Grisham drummed his fingers on the top of the control panel in thought. “If the Exetran doesn’t show up after a week, I’d be tempted to head back to Human Federation space, park the Urzox a day’s lightspeed from Shesa-2 and stay there long enough to find out what the situation is on Loxor and elsewhere. I’d hope Senator Maynard would have some guidance for us.”

“That’s still going to be a risk, Captain,” said Adler. “Like we’ve discussed before, the Exetran might break off the pursuit temporarily while it deals with matters elsewhere. Then, as soon as those matters are wrapped up, it could be straight back on our tail.”

“I agree that those things are all possible,” said Grisham. “But the Urzox is too much of a warship to waste by keeping it languishing out in the middle of nowhere.” He raised a hand to forestall Adler’s coming objection. “Yes, I accept that keeping the Exetran distracted is a positive, but I have a feeling the Ax’Kol aren’t relying on that single vessel to achieve their war goals.” Grisham smiled thinly. “Besides, I think we might be able to give the Exetran a run for its money – once we’re more familiar with our own warship.”

Deneuve was staring at Grisham with her eyes narrowed, in the way that she always did when she was reading his inner thoughts. “You don’t really want to return to HF space.”

“It seems inevitable that our species is about to become involved in a reactionary war against the Ax’Kol,” said Grisham. “It’ll be a war in which the Ax’Kol hold all the aces. They’ll act, we’ll react. We might defeat them here and there, but then they’ll vanish into the depths of space and show up at another planet. Eventually, the Human Federation will succumb, in the same way as the Kijol are already succumbing.”

“What are you proposing, sir?” asked Bishop.

“We find the Ax’Kol, instead of the Ax’Kol finding us,” said Grisham. “Then, we defeat them.”

“That’s a good plan, sir,” said Adler. “However, I’ve identified a couple of flaws.”

Grisham laughed. “I don’t need you to point them out to me, Lieutenant. I was giving more a statement of intent than a plan.”

“But really, Captain,” Adler persisted. “We know the enemy have at least one vessel with enough psionic power to wipe out an entire Kijol fleet. I guess you’re intending to use the Andos, or the Urzox, to locate the enemy power centres – if they have any – and then destroy them. The trouble is, we can’t risk bringing a significant portion of either the HF or Kijol fleets with us, in case they’re crippled in a one-shot area-effect psionic decay. We’ll effectively be alone.”

“I know,” said Grisham. He twisted in his seat and made a gesture that encompassed the bridge and everything beyond it. “The species who built this warship must have thought they had a chance.”

“Or they believed that an all-or-nothing response was better than a slow extinction at the hands of the Ax’Kol,” said Adler.

Grisham shook his head. “There’s more to it than that, Lieutenant. Else why would the enemy want the Andos so badly?”

“Do you think the Andos is the key, Captain?” asked Deneuve, again with the narrowed eyes.

“I think there’s more than one key,” said Grisham. He withdrew the Andos from his pocket and stared at the sphere of polished yellow sitting in the palm of his hand. “I’m sure there are other artifacts like this one.”

“Upon what are you basing your certainty, Captain?” asked Lopez. “The Andos brought us to the Urzox, but you told us it’s no longer pointing anywhere.”

“It’s not,” Grisham admitted.

He linked telepathically to the Andos. The sphere was remote and strange, and he was sure it was sentient. Recently, Grisham had found himself asking if the artifact was exerting a subtle influence on his thoughts, to ensure he followed a certain path. Oddly, he didn’t find the idea concerning, though he’d have preferred an open dialogue.

Grisham tore his gaze away from the device. “Lieutenant Bishop, how many locations are shown in our star charts that were already implanted within the Urzox’s navigational system?”

“Aside from the millions of stars and planets categorised as unimportant, there are a total of forty-two locations, sir. These ones are listed by name, but there are no other details.”

“And there’s nothing additional in the Urzox’s physical databanks?”

“No, Captain, and the mind on this vessel doesn’t retain memories like the one on the Voltran – the balance between tech and consciousness is different on the Urzox. Plus, like we were discussing earlier, it’s possible this warship required plenty of extra work – aside from the physical aspects of its hull - before it was completed.”

Grisham refused to feel deflated, despite the growing list of problems. The mind on the Urzox was far more of a blank slate than the one created by the Ax’Kol for the Voltran. To Grisham, it was like a psionic power bank, waiting to be tapped. The consciousness on the Urzox was fully tied in with the physical hardware, but it hadn’t been imbued with the knowledge required for battle.

In addition, the Urzox’s databanks contained little of use. In fact, those databanks had such low storage capabilities, Grisham was left wondering if they were anywhere near large enough to contain the repository of data the crew of a warship might need to access during operations. When he checked the status of the storage arrays, he discovered they were filling at an alarming rate, just from the data being gathered by the sensors.

Grisham wasn’t sure if he was missing something about how the Urzox was intended to function, or if the limited technological knowledge of its designers was showing through in the end product. The answers – if indeed they were there to be found – eluded him, though Grisham refused to let it bother him. He’d come through countless missions where the intel was lacking, or missing entirely. The truth always came to the surface one way or another.

With the potential of a long wait ahead, Grisham settled himself. Partly, he hoped the Exetran was still in pursuit. If so, it would be much easier to justify a search for other artifacts like the Andos.

Besides, Grisham couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to witness the outcome of psionically accelerated Alturian slugs striking the hull of the enemy vessel. He wasn’t ready for the confrontation yet, but nevertheless, he smiled at the thought.

FOUR

A day went by without the Andos giving an alarm to indicate the arrival of the Exetran, or any other Ax’Kol vessels which might be in pursuit. Grisham wasn’t nearly reassured. A few more days, he told himself, and he might start giving credence to the notion that the chase was over.

The crew couldn’t function without food, water, or sleep, so Grisham arranged short off-duty periods for them, with only one person permitted off-bridge at a time. It wasn’t far to the crew’s quarters, and the beds were comfortable enough to grab some shuteye, even if the breaks weren’t long.

Twenty-seven hours after exiting lightspeed in this solar system, it was Grisham’s turn for some time off-duty. He was accustomed to variable shifts, but he was still tired.

As he was heading for the bridge exit, Lieutenant Lopez called him back.

“Captain, I have Sergeant Maxwell on the comms,” she said. “He wants to speak with you.”

Grisham tapped the side of his combat helmet. “Link him to my suit comms,” he said. “That way I can talk while I walk.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez.

A faint crackling in Grisham’s earpiece told him the channel was open. “Sergeant Maxwell,” he said, trying not to sound irritated. The left-hand turning outside the bridge led towards the crew’s quarters and Grisham went that way.

“Captain, we’ve been exploring like you told us,” said Maxwell. “We’ve found something.”

Grisham almost stopped when he heard the words. “What kind of something?”

“It’s like a secret room, sir. There’s a device that none of us recognize. And a pedestal. I think you need to see it.”

Extending his telepathic powers, Grisham located Maxwell. He was with all the other soldiers in the exact midpoint of the Urzox. It was a long way from the bridge.

“I’m heading your way,” said Grisham, hurrying along the passage.

The tiredness had its claws in deep, and no amount of excitement was going to shift it, so Grisham made a short detour to the mess, where he stopped at the alien replicator. Soon, he was carrying a grey plastic cup filled with a steaming liquid that had an odour somewhere between used engine oil and burnt rubber. The taste wasn’t much better, but it definitely contained some kind of stimulant. Less than a day after Private Johnny Lowe had stumbled upon the button combination for this particular drink, Sergeant Maxwell had been forced to ban further indulgence in the concoction.

Fortunately for Grisham, he outranked Maxwell and was therefore able to drink as much of the alien coffee as he wanted. In a few quick swigs, the drink was gone and Grisham hurled the empty cup down a side passage.

Increasing his pace, Grisham jogged along tight, well-lit corridors. The interior of the Urzox was comfortably habitable and the cool air felt nice through his open visor.

During the flight from the Exetran, Grisham had familiarised himself with the areas of the Urzox near the bridge, as well as the route to one of the warship’s shuttle bays, where the transport from the Voltran was still docked. However, Maxwell and his squad had ventured much farther afield, and Grisham found himself in places he hadn’t visited before. He passed across high-ceilinged rooms filled with dark cubes and cylinders, and wider corridors that could have accommodated gravity vehicles.

Almost every surface was biological, though here and there metal protruded. Nowhere did Grisham see an interface panel, or anyplace that a technician might have taken status readings of individual hardware modules.

In that regard, the Urzox was more technologically advanced than its weapons and propulsion would have suggested. While all frontline Human Federation warships were effectively sealed units, in that the only way to access the hardware was from the bridge, some of the older models were fitted with interface panels, and Grisham could remember seeing an old warship in a museum with cables running along its interior walls. By that measure, the Urzox was a well-built vessel.

Sergeant Maxwell was about a thousand metres from the bridge, and several levels lower, and it took Grisham more than ten minutes reach the soldiers. Descending what he believed to be the final flight of steps, and eschewing the use of a nearby airlift, Grisham entered a new corridor. A short distance farther along, a figure waited. That figure caught sight of Grisham and beckoned him closer.

“Private Lyles,” said Grisham.

“Captain,” said Lyles. She thumbed left into a two-metre-wide corridor that branched off this one. “Sergeant Maxwell is along there. It was crowded so he sent a bunch of us off that way—” Lyles pointed aft, “to do some more exploring. He told me to wait here and tell you which way to go.”

“Much appreciated,” said Grisham. He glanced into the passage, which continued for about fifty metres and ended at a room. “Sergeant Maxwell described this as a secret. It doesn’t look very secret to me.”

“Ah, but it is, Captain,” said Lyles. “Watch.”

With that, Lyles stepped across to the wall adjacent to the passage opening. She created a triangle shape using the middle three fingers on her left hand and poked them at three tiny indentations on the wall. The moment she did so, an ingeniously hidden door slid across the opening.

“See?” said Lyles.

“How the hell did you spot that?” asked Grisham. The doors on the Urzox were all opened by the same method, but usually the holes were obvious. These ones here were hardly more than marks on the walls which could have almost been mistaken for biological imperfections.

Lyles shrugged. “You’ll have to ask the Sergeant about that, Captain – he’s the one that found this place. He walked straight up to it, like he’d seen it from all the way back at the airlift.”

“Maybe I will ask him,” said Grisham.

He approached the three indentations and opened the door again. When that was done, he entered the passage and jogged towards the room he’d seen. Two soldiers were there, waiting.

After fifty metres, Grisham entered a space which he felt sure was exactly in the centre of the Urzox. The floor of the room was circular, with a ten-metre diameter, and every surface was alloy.

In the middle of the room, a one-metre sphere, apparently empty, and made of a clear material, was suspended halfway up towards the four-metre ceiling. Dark cables made from a different substance to the biological parts of the Urzox, were attached to the sphere in numerous places. These cables were taut and they disappeared into the walls, floor and ceiling, their tension holding the sphere in position.

Directly below the sphere was a metre-high cylindrical pedestal made from what looked like red stone.

“Captain,” said Sergeant Maxwell. He was a quarter of the way around the sphere and he approached, taking care that he didn’t touch any of the cables.

“Sergeant,” said Grisham, continuing to look around. Corporal Barkley was the other soldier. “That was a good spot on the wall back there.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maxwell. His expression was troubled. “Ninety-nine times out of a hundred I’d have walked straight past the opening mechanism, even if I was looking for it. This time, I saw it straightaway, like my eyes were drawn to the place.”

Grisham held the other man’s gaze for a moment, but refrained from asking him any questions about his discovery of the room.

“What do you make of this place, Sergeant?”

“I’m sure it’s important, Captain, else I wouldn’t have called you here.” Maxwell gestured around with his gauss rifle. “Three days of exploring and we haven’t come across anything else like this on the Urzox. All the other rooms are flesh and metal, like we had on the Voltran.”

Grisham turned his attention once more to the central sphere. He reached out with his telepathic powers and felt absolutely nothing.

“I thought the warship’s mind might have been in that sphere,” said Grisham. “Maybe it is, but I can’t feel a damn thing from it.”

He reached into his leg pocket and extracted the Andos. The whispering from the artifact was not alarmed.

“Anything?” asked Maxwell.

“No,” said Grisham.

Maxwell looked disappointed. “Maybe the pedestal?”

“Let’s take a closer look,” said Grisham.

He picked his way carefully through the cables - of which he estimated there to be two dozen all told - towards the room’s centre. When he was a couple of metres from the room’s centre and almost within touching distance of both the pedestal and the sphere, Grisham detected a faint humming, though he wasn’t sure of the source. He stopped, suddenly wary, and stared at the central sphere. It hadn’t changed.

When he looked down at the pedestal, Grisham could now see a faint tracing of dark lines upon its smooth surface. He took a half-step closer and the lines became more prominent, as if there was a property to their etching that made them impossible to see from a distance. The thought reminded Grisham of his recent time on Hevos, and the carvings he’d seen beneath the ground – carvings that had been created by the tools of a master, though a master with a twisted imagination.

Inching forward and then crouching, Grisham studied the pedestal. It was no more than ten inches in diameter and it still looked like stone from close up. The etchings were clearer than before, though they seemed to fade beneath direct scrutiny, as if they were forever in his periphery. Grisham turned his head one way and then the other, but he couldn’t bring the etchings into focus. He thought he detected either creatures or elaborate objects amongst the markings, but they were maddeningly difficult to pin down.

“Captain, is there a problem?” asked Maxwell.

“No…I don’t think so,” said Grisham, shaking his head slowly.

He reached his mind out towards the pedestal, but, like the sphere directly above it, he got no sense of anything.

“Looks like a good place to rest the Andos,” said Grisham. “What do you say, Sergeant?”

“I’d say this is a bunch of alien shit, of which I have no comprehension, sir.”

“If we don’t try, we’ll never know,” said Grisham.

The Andos was in his hand and he placed it carefully onto the flat top of the pedestal. Since the artifact was a perfect sphere, it should have rolled, but it didn’t move so much as a millimetre. Grisham suddenly realised what the humming was that he’d noticed earlier – there was a gravity field inside the pedestal and it was holding the Andos in place.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Grisham felt what might have been a shudder running through the mind of the Urzox – something he could sense even though he wasn’t interfaced with the spaceship. Instinctively, Grisham attempted a remote link, the same as he’d tried before on the spaceship.

The link wouldn’t form, but then, a burst of knowledge – a vision - filled Grisham’s brain. He saw vast empires of a thousand different species. Countless planets, linked by telepathic threads. Wars, conflict, and times of peace. History spanning millions of years.

And there were other artifacts. Their names jumped into Grisham’s head. The Andos he knew of already, which was the Fourth, but there was also the Edran – the Fifth. Virdas was the Third, and then came Ravon, the Second.

The First was Gavax’Kol and Grisham felt a shuddering fear when the name of it was revealed to him. This artifact had given birth to the Ax’Kol. It had corrupted whole species, turning them into creatures which hungered for death.

The vision was too expansive for Grisham’s mind to hold onto the entirety of it, and the details began to slip away like a dream, no matter how hard he tried to cling on to everything.

Slowly, Grisham rose from his crouch, his eyes still on the Andos. He was aware of a voice calling him.

“Captain, is there a problem?” asked Maxwell.

“I saw the beginnings of the Ax’Kol,” said Grisham, trying to commit the most important facts to his memory. “They began as other species, but they were corrupted by an artifact like the Andos – an artifact called Gavax’Kol.”

“Does this mean the Andos is—?” Maxwell started.

“No,” said Grisham. “Whatever entity is within the Andos has resisted the calling of the Gavax’Kol.”

“How many artifacts are there?” asked Maxwell.

“Five in total,” said Grisham. “The Virdas and the Ravon became like the Gavax’Kol. Whether that was willingly or by corruption, I don’t know.”

“Does that mean we have to destroy those artifacts?” asked Corporal Barkley.

Grisham raised his head and looked over. “The Virdas is known as the Third,” he said, watching Barkley to see if he’d figure it out.

“You told us the Exetran is known as the Third, sir,” said Barkley.

“And that’s where we’ll find the Virdas, Corporal. If we’re to defeat the Ax’Kol, we’ll need to destroy their warships.”

“What about the other artifacts?” asked Maxwell.

“The Ravon is The Second,” said Grisham. “It’s within a vessel called the Evoldor. Gavax’Kol is The First. The artifact and its host have the same name.”

“So the snake has a head,” said Maxwell.

“Maybe,” said Grisham. “I couldn’t see anything of the Gavax’Kol warship – the Andos has no memories of it.”

“Or the artifact isn’t telling,” said Maxwell.

“There’s plenty I don’t know,” Grisham admitted. “Way more than I’d like.”

“You said there were five artifacts, Captain,” said Barkley.

“The Fifth is called Edran,” said Grisham. “The Andos doesn’t know if that artifact is within a spaceship or not.” He turned his gaze towards Maxwell and nodded. “Or it isn’t telling.”

At that moment, a link was made to Grisham’s comms unit.

“Captain, the entries in the Urzox’s star charts have expanded about a thousandfold,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Is this something you’ve done?”

“Sergeant Maxwell found the intended home for the Andos,” said Grisham, holding onto the rest of the explanation. “I’m returning to the bridge.” He cut the channel and faced Maxwell again. “This was a good find, Sergeant.”

“I hope so, Captain.”

Grisham exited the room and hurried along the passage outside. At first, he’d been thrilled beyond measure to have been given a glimpse into the history of the species living in this part of the universe. Now, he felt a huge burden – he’d been given answers which only raised more questions and from them, he had to work out what to do next.

As he ran through the interior of the Urzox, Sergeant Maxwell’s last words in the Andos room echoed in Grisham’s head, and he wondered if he was being led unwittingly along a course which might not benefit the Human Federation at all, but might just lead to completely unexpected consequences.

FIVE

Soon, Grisham was back on the bridge. The expression on his face must have given something away of his internal conflict, because Deneuve was instantly concerned. Keeping his voice calm, Grisham told his crew what had happened in the secret room, and what he’d learned. When he was done talking, he waited while the others considered what he’d told them.

“I wish none of this had come to the Human Federation,” said Deneuve at last. “But since it has, we have to make best use of whatever information we find.”

“We have to destroy the Gavax’Kol,” said Adler. “If that artifact was responsible for creating the Ax’Kol, it must be commanding them as well.”

“It is,” said Grisham. “Why, I don’t know, but I’m not going to worry too much about the motivations of an alien artifact. I’m going to keep telling myself it’s just one of those shitty things that happens in an effectively infinite universe.”

“What do we do now, sir?” asked Bishop. “The Exetran still hasn’t showed up.”

The adrenaline which been keeping Grisham going since he’d placed the Andos on its pedestal was subsiding, and the tiredness he’d been feeling for many hours hadn’t gone away. He stifled a yawn. “I don’t have a plan, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “Or at least I don’t have a plan that’s any more sophisticated than locate and destroy the Gavax’Kol.”

“You should go and get some rest, Captain,” said Deneuve. “You’ll be no use if you can’t think straight.”

Grisham accepted the truth of it. “I’ll go now,” he said, heading for the bridge door. Another question jumped into his head. “Was there anything of interest in the expanded star charts?”

“We’re still combing through it, sir,” said Lopez. “There’s a lot of data.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, Grisham exited the bridge. Not long after, he entered one of the rooms intended for the original alien crew. Rolling onto the bed, Grisham felt his mind’s turmoil. He wished that he could have somehow retained everything the Andos had shown him. To study the history of so many different species – all of them telepaths - would have been fascinating.

Grisham reluctantly accepted that his was not to be the life of a scholar. The universe was a dangerous place and someone had to shoot the bad guys.

Despite Grisham’s desire to sleep, his brain had different ideas and the thoughts seemed to accelerate into his head, ignoring his efforts to fall into slumber. He felt sure that what he’d learned from the Andos was key to defeating the Ax’Kol, but he suspected the Urzox wasn’t up to the task of facing the Exetran or the Evoldor, let alone the Gavax’Kol.

Although Grisham hadn’t seen anything in his vision which suggested the Gavax’Kol artifact was any more potent than the others, its authority had nevertheless been accepted by both the Virdas and the Ravon. Perhaps its apparent singularity of purpose had given the Gavax’Kol a strength the other artifacts were lacking.

However, the Andos had not accepted the supremacy of the Gavax’Kol and it had remained hidden for millions of years. Neither had the Edran – The Fifth – submitted. Where the last artifact was located, Grisham had no idea.

On a whim, he reached out towards the Andos with his telepathy. The artifact neither greeted him, nor betrayed any emotion at Grisham’s presence.

All those worlds, linked by telepathy, thought Grisham. And you, the Andos were hiding. If you were hiding, perhaps the Edran is still hiding. Tell me. Where is it?

At first, Grisham believed his question would go unanswered. Then, words formed in his mind.

The Edran has the gift of endless sight. It finds.

This was the first time the Andos had directly communicated with Grisham and he was momentarily startled. He fumbled for a response.

What does it find? he asked.

Life. Wherever it exists, came the response. Whatever the distance.

And if it falls under the control of the Gavax’Kol, it’ll be bad news for every other species in the universe, said Grisham.

The Gavax’Kol can also sense life, but it is limited. If the Edran fell under its control, the Gavax’Kol would be able to target the weaker species. The Ax’Kol army would grow. Then, the Gavax’Kol would turn its attention to the more powerful species.

If the Edran is so important, why is the Exetran pursuing the Andos? asked Grisham. The answer came to him. You know how to find the Edran.

The Edran finds life. The Andos is also a locator.

Grisham caught the unspoken meaning. The Andos locates objects. Places.

That is correct.

Do you wish to defeat the Ax’Kol? Grisham asked.

The Andos was created long after the Triumvirate – that is, the first three. The purpose of the Andos and the Edran was to restore balance.

How does creating artifacts that find things restore any kind of balance? asked Grisham, wondering what he was missing. Why not create weapons instead?

Life wishes to live. Life in alliance is more powerful than life alone.

What about the Andos, then? asked Grisham. What is the specific benefit of finding objects and places?

The universe is old, human. Species have lived and died ever since its inception.

Old tech, said Grisham. You can find weapons and spaceships that can defeat the Ax’Kol.

It is not so simple. How can one find something without knowing it exists?

Then what is your use? asked Grisham. What is the purpose behind the Urzox?

Hope. When there is nothing else, hope becomes everything.

Grisham needed a clear head to think, but he was so tired. Maybe the Andos was telling him something, and he just wasn’t seeing the bigger picture.

Where is the Edran? Can you lead me to it? he asked.

The Exetran pursues this vessel. It will not give up. I – you – cannot risk leading the Ax’Kol to the Edran.

Grisham sat up in alarm. When will the Exetran arrive here?

In four of your hours, it will enter this solar system.

What of the Evoldor? asked Grisham. Is that also in pursuit?

The Evoldor is currently elsewhere. How long it will be occupied, I do not know.

And the Gavax’Kol?

I cannot sense the Gavax’Kol, came the response.

I thought you were created to find, said Grisham.

And yet I cannot find the Gavax’Kol.

Then how are we to defeat it?

Eventually, the Gavax’Kol will come.

That’s not how I fight, said Grisham. I’m not going to sit on my hands waiting.

It is possible the Gavax’Kol exists somewhere between life and the inanimate.

The artifact was hinting at something, though Grisham didn’t know why it didn’t come right out and tell him. He pondered its response for a short time, though his brain struggled to focus.

The Andos and the Edran together might be able to locate the Gavax’Kol? he guessed.

That is possible.

But you won’t tell me where the Edran is located, said Grisham.

It is immaterial. You are not ready to face the Gavax’Kol.

Is there a way to make the Urzox ready? asked Grisham, clutching at what might have been an offered straw.

I do not know.

This is going around in circles.

The Gavax’Kol has existed for time beyond imagining, human. It is beyond you. Perhaps beyond everything.

Grisham didn’t know what to make of the information he’d been given. He needed time to absorb it, and hopefully from there, his brain would conjure up a plan. However, with no plan yet in his head, Grisham used this opportunity to continue his questioning of the Andos.

How are the Ax’Kol vessels managing to pursue the Urzox – and the Voltran before it – through lightspeed? Grisham asked.

It is you, human. Your mind has touched the Virdas and now you are linked.

How do you know?

I can feel the taint. You fought the Gholaxas.

Yes.

The mind in the Gholaxas was linked to the Virdas. You drew in the Exetran.

Grisham cursed at being presented with this unpalatable truth. You shielded me on Hevos.

I deflected the Virdas, nothing more. It knows of you and it knows you have both the Andos and the Urzox.

And if I defeat the Exetran will the pursuit end? said Grisham.

The pursuit will never end, human. Not while you possess the Andos.

Grisham’s exhaustion was making it hard for him to keep his eyes open, and, if the Exetran was indeed in pursuit, he needed to be a hell of a lot fresher than this. He withdrew his mind from the artifact.

When the link was severed, he opened a comms channel to the bridge. “Lieutenant Lopez, I’ve learned that the Exetran is still coming after us,” said Grisham. “Inform Lieutenant Adler of my order – he’s to send the Urzox into lightspeed again, to a destination of his choosing, that is no less than twenty-four hours from here.”

“Yes, sir. Are you returning to the bridge?”

“No - I’m going to sleep,” said Grisham. “Commander Deneuve has the bridge.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll let her know,” said Lopez.

Grisham closed the channel and set a timed alarm on his suit computer. Although he’d been given plenty to think about by his recent telepathic conversation with the Andos, his brain surrendered to the needs of his body. He fell asleep in moments.

Four hours later, the chiming of the alarm woke Grisham. He wasn’t anywhere near fully rested, but he felt a damn sight better than he had before. Exiting the room, he headed directly for the mess. The Urzox was at lightspeed – he could tell by the quiet drone of its propulsion – and that meant it wasn’t in any immediate danger.

Grisham didn’t stop for long at the mess. He ordered the replicator to produce him another one of its stimulation drinks, along with a tray of alien pastes, the latter of which he was rapidly developing a taste for. So were Maxwell’s soldiers, judging by the number of them who’d chosen to eat from the Urzox’s replicator instead of making the short trip to the one they’d brought from the Voltran.

When he arrived at the bridge, Grisham sent Commander Deneuve, Lieutenant Kinsey, and Lieutenant Bishop straight off to get some sleep.

“We’ll talk when everyone’s ready,” said Grisham.

Deneuve clearly wanted to talk now, but she didn’t argue. Nor did the others. Before leaving, Deneuve indicated that Lieutenant Adler had something to say.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” asked Grisham.

“The Urzox has a lightspeed warmup time greater than twenty minutes, Captain,” said Adler. “When I saw the prediction on the navigational computer, my eyebrows nearly fell off. In case there was a problem that I was unaware of, I chose a different destination, but the warmup timer climbed to twenty-four minutes.”

“We’ll not be making any rapid escapes from combat if that’s how long it takes,” said Grisham.

“I figured out that the warmup time increases with the distance,” said Adler. “HF spaceships were the same for a long time after we first discovered the method of lightspeed travel, though eventually we cracked that particular algorithmic nut, so now the warmup time is a set quantity dictated by the processing capabilities of the spaceship.”

“I get the impression you’re building to something,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “I discovered a way to instruct the Urzox’s mind to accelerate the warmup using its psionics. I managed to get the last transition down to less than three minutes, but the amount of psionic energy required scales exponentially with the reduction in the warmup.”

“How low would it go?” asked Grisham.

“Since it’s hard to pin down psionic resources to a simple number, I can’t be sure, Captain,” said Adler. “I’m confident we could reduce the warmup to less than two minutes, if the warship’s consciousness was at full strength.”

“What would happen if the four satellite minds shared some of the burden?” asked Grisham.

“That’s what I was moving onto, sir,” said Adler. “The options for experimentation have been limited because of our situation, but it’s something we should look at when the opportunity arises.”

“Noted,” said Grisham.

“And if you remember when we first recovered the Urzox, it entered lightspeed pretty damn quickly that time. Maybe if we ever need to make a real fast exit…”

“I get what you’re saying, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “We’ll run some tests when we get the chance.”

“Yes, sir.”

Adler was clearly excited by the idea of reducing the Urzox’s lightspeed warmup time. However, the only occasions Grisham could foresee needing to shave off a significant number of seconds was when the warship was under duress. In those cases, its psionic reserves would likely have been depleted by combat.

Grisham gave a mental shrug. The discovery might come in useful at some point in the future. Certainly, he was glad that Adler had uncovered a way to drag down the warmup from twenty minutes.

The hours passed. Deneuve and the others returned. Grisham took some more time off, along with Adler and Lopez. When he returned from his bed after this most recent break, Grisham felt, if not fully rested, then near-as-damnit.

Although his telepathic conversation with the Andos had been some hours ago, the details of it were still clear in his head. He told his crew about the exchange.

“So the Andos could show us the way to the Edran, but it chooses not to,” said Deneuve.

“What would we do with the Edran anyway?” asked Adler. “It sounds like we should destroy it for the good of the universe.”

“I reckon we should leave it well alone,” said Bishop. “The Edran has been hidden all this time, so why interfere?”

“The Exetran will pursue us – pursue me - forever, folks,” said Grisham. “Now jokes aside, I’m sure none of you are planning to throw me out of a waste chute in the middle of the universe, and that means we’re effectively in this together. If we don’t do something to change our situation, we’re going to grow old and die on the Urzox.” Grisham twisted in his seat and gave a thin smile. “And I don’t know about anyone else, but I have plans for my life that don’t involve endlessly running from alien warships.”

“What plans?” said Lopez. “You haven’t told us about plans.”

“You got me there, Lieutenant,” Grisham admitted. “But still, one day I might meet somebody, settle down and father some children. And besides, I’m not the only one on this spaceship.”

“We have to get ourselves out of this,” said Adler.

“That’s the one and only conclusion,” said Grisham. “That means we have to defeat the Exetran. And even that won’t be enough, since there’d still be the Evoldor and Gavax’Kol to deal with.”

“You’ve been working on some ideas,” said Deneuve.

Grisham ignored the feeling of her eyes boring into the side of his head. “I’ve been thinking, but so far I haven’t come up with anything,” he said. “While I don’t want to face the Exetran, it’s still an option. Those Alturian guns are sure to wipe the smile off the faces of those grinning alien bastards, as long as we can land a few shots on their hull.”

“The go down swinging approach?” asked Deneuve with a raised eyebrow.

“Like I said – hopefully it won’t come to that, Commander.”

Grisham felt the expectation of his crew. They were looking for him to spring a big surprise – a plan that would give them some hope that perhaps they weren’t all destined for a slow, but inevitable death.

He closed his eyes, wishing that plan was in his head. At the moment, Grisham had nothing and, even rested as he was, he couldn’t think of a way to turn things around. Worst of all, something else was troubling him and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Grisham suspected it was vitally important, and yet, it remained elusive.

Not for the first time, he wished for the simpler life of a Tibor captain.

SIX

At the end of its lightspeed transit, Grisham ordered Lieutenant Adler to prepare the Urzox immediately for another.

“Make this a three-day journey, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “The navigational computer is reporting my chosen destination requires a twenty-nine-minute warmup time.”

“That’s way too long,” said Grisham.

“What should I bring it down to, sir?”

“Let’s assume three minutes is the target for every transition from now on.”

“Yes, sir,” said Adler.

Grisham monitored the warship’s activity across his link to the vessel. The Urzox’s mind began channelling its psionics in a way he didn’t recognize or understand. What Grisham did recognize was an apparent reluctance from the spaceship’s consciousness, as if it had been asked to do something painful or against its wishes.

With a mixture of curiosity and concern, Grisham sent out his own mind and tried again to make contact with the Urzox. The warship’s mind was as aloof as ever and it hardly even seemed to recognize his presence. For a moment, Grisham considered pushing harder, but he decided against it. The Urzox was still too much of a mystery for him to take risks with the vessel.

“What’s the matter, Captain?” asked Deneuve, looking sideways across.

Grisham maintained his link to the Urzox, but pulled his mind back. He blinked. “How did you know?”

“Whenever something’s wrong, or you’re unsure about something, your brow knits together and a wrinkle appears just above your nose,” said Deneuve. “Didn’t you realise?”

“And that’s how you always—?” Grisham shook his head. “Never mind. I just got a feeling that the Urzox didn’t want to apply its psionics to the lightspeed warmup.”

“Like it was unwilling?” asked Deneuve, giving Grisham her full attention.

“Maybe,” said Grisham. “I know the Urzox is new to us, but I’m starting to wonder if we’re as much in control of this spaceship as we think we are.”

“It’s alien.” Deneuve shrugged. Sometimes it was all the explanation that was needed, but her expression indicated that this time, she wasn’t so sure. “Billions of creatures died to create that mind.” She pursed her lips. “I haven’t noticed anything myself, and you haven’t mentioned it before, Captain.”

“I don’t know if it’s because I’m becoming more in tune with the Urzox that I was able to detect the reluctance,” said Grisham.

“We need more time with the Urzox, Captain,” said Deneuve. “That’s something we can’t escape.”

“If I was hopeful we’d see some of that time, I’d probably feel better about everything, Commander.”

Deneuve didn’t say anything more, though it was clear she was unsure about something. It was an uncertainty that Grisham also felt, however, like before, he couldn’t figure out exactly what that something might be.

It’s alien, he thought to himself, to see if the repetition would settle his faint unease. It didn’t, and he wondered if he was getting himself worked up over nothing.

“Ten seconds!” yelled Lieutenant Adler.

The Urzox entered lightspeed and the sensors went blank. Grisham checked the timer, which was predicting re-entry to local space in three days and twenty seconds. He found himself resolving that – one way or another – at the end of this journey, he’d have a plan of some kind, and it wouldn’t involve a slugging match with the Exetran.

“I need to speak with the Andos again,” said Grisham.

“Are you going to do it here?” asked Deneuve, her face indicating she already knew the answer.

“No, I’ll go elsewhere,” said Grisham. “To the place I left the artifact.”

He left the bridge at once. In the passage outside, he hesitated briefly while he considered ordering a few of Maxwell’s soldiers to accompany him. With a start, Grisham realised that, even a short time ago, he’d have never for a moment considered the need for an escort. Whatever it was playing on his mind, it was affecting him more deeply than he’d imagined.

Setting off for the pedestal room alone, Grisham struggled to understand what was bothering him. So much was new – the artifacts, the Ax’Kol Triumvirate, the history of it all – that he wondered if it was becoming too much for him to deal with.

Like hell.

Ever since Xaros, Grisham had been standing at the foot of a whole mountain of crap, armed only with a shovel and a willing spirit, but he’d been making progress, one scoop at a time. He was mentally stronger now than he’d ever been, and that made him certain his worries weren’t unfounded. Whatever was bothering him, he was determined to figure it out.

Grisham passed through compact rooms and larger spaces, with pieces of unrecognized tech protruding through their biological walls. On the Voltran, he’d given up guessing at the purposes of the visible components and he’d grown content to accept that the warship simply worked as it was intended, even if he couldn’t name most of the physical parts. Here on the Urzox, Grisham hardly spared the alloys a glance, except where they intruded into his path.

After a time, Grisham came to the corridor from which the secret passage led to the pedestal room. He located the tiny, almost invisible, indentations to operate the door and placed his fingertips against them. The door opened and he walked rapidly along the passage to the place he’d left the Andos.

Pausing on the threshold, Grisham looked around at the floating sphere, at the cables linking it to the rest of the spaceship, and at the pedestal, upon which the Andos still remained. In here, the engines were peculiarly muted, and he felt a strange sense of isolation.

Grisham walked towards the pedestal and crouched next to it. Closing his eyes, he calmed himself and then let his telepathic powers seep out into the space around him, as subtly as he was able, and without attempting contact with the Andos. For long moments, Grisham didn’t move as he let his mind search, even though he didn’t know exactly what he was hoping to find.

At last, he gave up. The Urzox’s consciousness – if indeed it resided within the sphere – was distant like always, while the whispering of the Andos was the same background noise as it had always been.

Taking a deep breath, Grisham focused on the Andos and sent it a thought.

I wish to speak.

Very well.

You remained hidden for a long time, and now you are found, said Grisham.

What is your meaning, human?

Perhaps there is an inevitability.

That the Edran will also be found?

After millions of years, events led to your discovery, said Grisham.

That does not make the discovery of the Edran inevitable.

The Ax’Kol will not give up their search, even if it takes them millions of years longer to find what they seek.

Grisham hadn’t ever been a strong believer in fate, and yet here he was, using it in what he hoped was a subtle attempt to influence an alien artifact. He waited to find out how the Andos would respond. The artifact didn’t answer immediately and many seconds went by.

You believe that if I lead you to the Edran, you will have some control over the fate of your species.

Yes, said Grisham, relieved the artifact had understood his meaning.

What would you do with the Edran, human?

I would use it to locate the Gavax’Kol. Perhaps the enemy vessel could be lured into a trap where it might be destroyed by a bomb, or by a device which my species has not yet developed. The Ax’Kol have yet to turn their full attention on humanity. There is time.

And what if the Andos and Edran combined could not locate the Gavax’Kol?

Then I’d do something else, said Grisham. Perhaps look for that ancient tech we were talking about before. Or maybe I could use the Edran to locate an advanced lifeform that can defeat the Ax’Kol.

Most life is primitive, came the artifact’s response. You could search forever and not find a species which can challenge the Gavax’Kol.

But those species are out there.

Perhaps.

Regardless, I’d rather do something other than wait for humanity to be made extinct.

I have existed for time beyond measure. What does your waiting matter to me? Why should I care for your species?

Grisham didn’t have an answer – at least not one on the tip of his tongue - and he felt a stirring of anger. What the hell were you created for anyway? Were you imbued with a need to preserve your own existence? Is this all about protecting yourself so you can hide for another eternity?

I do not know why I was created, human, but I know that I cannot fall into the possession of the Ax’Kol.

How do you know that? Grisham pressed.

I have inherited something of my creators. They are gone, and yet they would not have wanted the Ax’Kol to control me.

Your creators wouldn’t want the Ax’Kol to have the capability to find life, said Grisham.

Nor to locate the lost secrets of the past.

Then why won’t you help me?

I am not convinced this is the time.

Grisham felt his teeth grinding together. What would happen if you led me to the Edran and then I struck both of you with a sledgehammer? If you were destroyed, then there would be nothing for the Ax’Kol to control.

Although Grisham waited for a time, an answer to his question was not forthcoming. He wondered if he’d angered the artifact – if such a thing was possible, or if he’d put himself in danger. Grisham suffered no psionic attack, nor were there any other visible consequences. He spoke again.

What would it take to convince you?

I will consider the question.

As far as responses went, Grisham found this one to be passably infuriating. Neither my crew, nor I can wait for millions of years. My species does not have forever.

I am not blind to your reality, human. I have felt entire species die, as one-by-one, their telepathic links were severed. I am not a stranger to this.

Then are you ready to let another species die?

I will consider the question.

Perhaps you should also consider if you wish to be captured by the Ax’Kol and witness them continue their onslaught for another hundred million years.

The Ax’Kol have endured for much longer than a hundred million years, human. I have told you I will consider the question.

Grisham forced a smile, even though the artifact surely couldn’t see it, and he imagined what it would be like to bring the aforementioned sledgehammer crashing down upon the Andos. He’d conversed with the artifact for long enough that he thought perhaps he might be coming to understand it, even if just a little. Whether he’d persuaded it to show the way to the Edran, he didn’t know.

As he left the pedestal room, Grisham wasn’t even sure if recovering the fifth artifact was the right thing to do. He played back the argument he’d presented to the Andos as to why it should lead him there, and that argument seemed to be substantially lacking.

Damnit, I will do something rather than pilot the damn Urzox around the damn universe while my species is wiped out by the Ax’Kol.

As he continued towards the bridge, Grisham asked himself if there was another way that didn’t involve searching for ancient artifacts. The Human Federation was now in alliance with the Kijol and together, the two fleets might be strong enough to inflict some significant punishment on the Ax’Kol.

But Grisham couldn’t ignore fate which had befallen the Kijol 10th Fleet, when almost a hundred warships had been disabled by a single wide-area psionic: decay attack.

Against an opponent with such capabilities, there might be no fleet large enough to guarantee victory, and Grisham had a feeling that only one of the Ax’Kol Triumvirate – either the Exetran or the Evoldor - had been responsible, and the enemy had two other vessels of similar, or greater potency. What the Triumvirate combined might achieve against a fleet built from alloy didn’t bear thinking about.

As far as Grisham saw it, the only hope was for humanity and the Kijol to come up with some new and game-changing technology that could tip the scales against the Ax’Kol. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the pipeline that Grisham knew of – certainly not within the Human Federation, and, though the Kijol would surely be working hard to advance their own tech, they hadn’t proved themselves nearly ready to defeat the Ax’Kol Triumvirate with their existing fleet.

All things considered, Grisham believed it was in the best interests of humanity and the Kijol if he and his crew continued their efforts to locate the Edran. Having both artifacts onboard the Urzox would at least give him the option to destroy them, assuming nothing more advantageous presented itself.

Grisham’s thoughts finally settled, though without him being entirely at peace. He returned to the bridge.

SEVEN

“Well?” Commander Deneuve asked in a tone that was just on the acceptable side of demanding.

Grisham didn’t take his seat straightaway. Instead, he stood himself in the centre of the bridge, and detailed the outcome of his conversation with the Andos. Then, he followed up by letting his crew know of his doubts. When he was finished speaking, he felt drained, rather than unburdened.

“Do you think the Andos will tell us where to find the Edran?” asked Adler.

“The Andos is a stone sphere, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “It doesn’t have a face to read, or a tone of voice – it’s just words in my head, and I’m damned if I can guess what it’ll decide.”

“Part of you wants to leave the Edran where it is,” said Deneuve.

“It’s a big part of me,” Grisham admitted. “And yet, this feels like a confluence – as if everything is drawing to an outcome.”

“Can you define what you mean by everything, sir?” asked Adler. “And what kind of outcome?”

Grisham smiled inwardly. His crew didn’t let him get away with half-assed responses, though often he was glad for it. “If we do nothing, humanity is going to be made extinct, and the Kijol with us. We can talk about new tech, but there’s none on the horizon. The Andos was lost for so long and we were the ones to find it. Now, we have a chance to locate the Edran.” Grisham looked from face to face. “It just feels like things are moving in one direction and we either have to jump onboard, or be left behind and watch as humanity is wiped out.”

“You don’t believe in fate, Captain,” said Deneuve flatly.

“And I still don’t,” said Grisham. “But I believe there are times when change is coming – when events collide with other events in a way that doesn’t happen often, but when it does, the shit hits the fan for somebody.”

“And you’re pinning your hope on this being the time for the Ax’Kol to wipe the brown stuff off their pretty white linen suits,” said Adler.

“I don’t have the answers, Lieutenant, as much as I wish it otherwise,” said Grisham, looking Adler straight in the eye. “The best I can do is share my thoughts with you all, to find out if anyone has a wiser head than mine.” He sighed. “The alternative is for me to load Danner’s replicator into one of those shuttles in the Urzox’s main bay, and then take off into lightspeed. I reckon I could last four, maybe five years. If the Exetran keeps up the pursuit, then—”

“Then we’d have nobody capable of communicating with the Andos,” said Deneuve, cutting Grisham off with tones bordering on angry. “If you do the running away while we keep hold of the artifact, there’ll be no change in outcome for the Human Federation.”

“The Ax’Kol can’t have the Edran, Commander,” said Grisham.

“You’ve kind of spelled it out for us, Captain,” said Lopez. “If we destroy the Andos, the Ax’Kol will be unable to locate the Edran, but humanity will almost certainly become extinct. If we keep running, humanity will almost certainly become extinct. That leaves us with the options of fighting the Exetran, or locating the Edran and hoping we can put it to a use that is currently unknown to us.”

“If nine roads lead to certain death, and the tenth leads to almost certain death, I know which way I’d be going,” said Kinsey.

“Are you worrying about all the other species which will suffer if the Ax’Kol get hold of the Edran, Captain?” said Deneuve.

“I don’t like the idea that my decision and our actions might lead to billions – perhaps trillions – of others being killed by the Ax’Kol.” Grisham’s head conjured up an image of corpses piled high. The image could have come from any one of the dead Kijol worlds he’d visited since Xaros – it was an amalgamation of the many horrors he’d witnessed. “It’s a hell of a lot to carry, Commander.”

“For all of us, sir,” said Deneuve. She shook her head, her jaw set. “But you know what? I’d risk everything to keep humanity safe from these Ax’Kol bastards.” Her expression didn’t waver, but the pain behind her eyes was clear. “Even if we get it wrong.”

“Hell yeah,” said Bishop. “I’m ready to take the chance. Any chance.”

“This might sound shitty, but I’m going to come right out and say it anyway,” said Adler. “Humanity doesn’t owe anything to any other species. We’re in this to survive and that’s what’s at stake. I’m not going to let my son and my daughter die, or my grandchildren, just so some alien species I’ve never met and never will meet, can live off the back of our sacrifice.”

Grisham found strength in the words and the expressions of his crew. “The sacrifices end here,” he said, wondering when his determination had begun to slip away. Certainly it had happened without him being aware of it. “I felt the sadness and the memories in the minds of the Voltran, and enough is enough. If we don’t push back hard against the Ax’Kol now, maybe they’ll wipe out hundreds more species before they run into any significant resistance. Maybe they’ll grow so strong that no resistance will hold them back.”

“So it’s settled,” said Deneuve, her voice soft, but her face no less steely.

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” said Grisham. “Humanity comes first.”

“What if the Andos won’t guide us to the Edran, sir?” said Bishop. “Will we face the Exetran?”

“That we will,” said Grisham. As he spoke the words, he suddenly itched for the confrontation. “Before we recovered the Voltran, we were always the underdogs. I’m sure none of us have forgotten how to surprise a bigger, tougher opponent.”

“I could take the Exetran down in my sleep,” said Deneuve.

“Maybe you’ll get the opportunity to show us how it’s done, Commander,” said Grisham. “But, despite what I said earlier, I think the Andos will tell us where to find the Edran.”

“Why the sudden change of opinion?” asked Lopez.

“Call it a change of mood, rather than a change of opinion, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “I feel as if I have a much clearer idea of what lies ahead for us, and that makes everything seem more possible than it did before.”

“While I’m pleased we’ve managed to hammer our uncertainty into some kind of purpose, how long are you planning to wait for the Andos, Captain?” asked Bishop.

“Any figure I give you will be pulled out of my ass, Lieutenant,” Grisham warned. “So maybe I’ll just give myself a bit of time to let things settle in my mind and then I’ll decide how long we’ll wait.”

“The Captain wants to fight,” said Lopez. “I can see it in his face. He’s sick of running, just like we all are.”

“Engaging the Exetran would be a good way to bring everything to a head,” said Grisham. “However, for the moment, we’ll wait to see whether the Andos will give up its secrets.”

“Even if it grinds your gears letting an alien artifact decide your future,” said Deneuve, her eyes glittering.

Grisham laughed. “That it does, Commander, but not so much that I’ll be goaded into action just for the hell of it.”

The lightspeed journey continued and any hopes Grisham had of a rapid decision from the Andos faded with each passing hour. He and his crew continued with their usual routine, alternating between on-duty time and grabbing a few precious hours asleep, or just sitting in the mess room and listening to the talk.

None of this superficial normality could disguise the tension. For his part, Grisham felt the stress of it like a tightness in his guts that sometimes made him want to yell out. He soon realised he was feeling a degree of excitement along with everything else. As day two crept into day three, the whispering voice telling him he should try his hand at blowing the crap out of the Exetran became progressively louder and harder to ignore. Grisham was an old hand at dealing with times like this and he felt as if he was handling the pressure as well as could be expected.

However, aside from the creeping excitement, there were other emotions running deep within him, and these were much harder to identify. Fear – contained, but nevertheless a constant presence – was one of those emotions, as was concern and, oddly enough, boredom. Despite his years of practice, Grisham didn’t much enjoy periods of inactivity even though he could cope with them well enough.

Besides the fear, the concern, and the boredom, was a different emotion and, for the life of him, Grisham couldn’t decide what it was, except that it was an undercurrent to all the other feelings which were plaguing him. Usually, he’d have ignored whatever it was, and just suffered it until it went away – these things were usually transient – but this time he had a nagging, unshakeable feeling that he was failing to identify something important.

At the end of the three-day journey, the Urzox returned to local space.

“Give us another twenty-four hours at lightspeed, Lieutenant Adler,” Grisham said, switching between the feeds. Outside was darkness and stars – the emptiness of the void.

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “The Urzox is preparing for lightspeed. Three minutes and we’ll be out of here.”

The warship exited normal space, beginning its journey towards a new destination which Grisham was sure would be no more interesting than the one it had just departed. For a short time, he experienced regret that he hadn’t waited a while longer, perhaps to entice a confrontation with the Exetran, should the enemy ship be only a short time behind in its pursuit.

As the journey progressed, Grisham found himself on the brink of contacting the Andos again, and letting the device know that if it didn’t get its ass in gear and make a decision, he was going to take matters into his own hands. It wasn’t clear to him if the Andos had a sense of self-preservation, or if it could be cajoled into action. Certainly the device had patiently hidden itself for a long time, but that didn’t necessarily mean it had a survival motivation. Grisham held off, though his patience was wearing thin.

Four hours before the Urzox was due to re-enter local space, Grisham was asleep in what he’d come to see as his own personal room. He woke with a start, the memory of a dream dissipating rapidly.

I will lead you to the Edran, came the voice of the Andos in his mind.

Gathering himself quickly, Grisham answered. I am glad. How far behind us is the Exetran?

Four hours after the Urzox next exits lightspeed, the Exetran will arrive.

Is four hours now a constant? asked Grisham.

Not exactly. However, the enemy ship’s pursuit will not have much variation in that time, no matter what actions you take.

So we have less than four hours to acquire the Edran and escape?

That is correct.

And if we fail, will the enemy vessel know the artifact is nearby?

That is likely.

How likely? Grisham pressed, wondering if the Andos was being deliberately evasive.

The value cannot be quantified.

How difficult will it be to recover the Edran at its location?

That is unknown.

Why is it unknown? asked Grisham.

I can only direct you to the Edran. I do not know what lies at the end of the vector.

Grisham bit down on a curse. No matter. If the Exetran shows up, this time I won’t run.

That would not be wise.

I have the Urzox and I have the Andos. You can deflect mind attacks, while my crew and I do the rest.

Grisham paused, to give the artifact a chance to respond, but it did not. He didn’t mention the possibility of an engagement with the Exetran again. If such a thing happened, it would be Grisham’s choice, and he didn’t require the artifact’s approval. Of course, he didn’t much like the idea of suffering a mental attack from the enemy mind – the Virdas - but he’d learned to keep his head down and not go looking for his opponent in case that drew attention to himself.

Where are we going? Grisham asked. Where is the Edran?

I have implanted the location into the Urzox’s navigation systems.

Grisham ended his link to the artifact without another word. He rolled off his bed and stood. Fortunately, the interruption to his sleep had come near the end of his available time, and he felt refreshed. Grisham’s wake-up alarm was due to go off in less than ten minutes and he cancelled it as he exited his room.

Outside, he passed Private Chau and Private Diaz, going about whatever business they had.

“Something up, Captain?” asked Diaz.

“Maybe,” said Grisham. “If so, you’ll find out soon enough.”

He stopped for a minute at the replicator and then headed to the bridge, with Lieutenant Lopez catching up with him as she returned from her own off-duty time. Grisham didn’t say anything about his conversation with the Andos, in order that he didn’t have to repeat himself.

Soon, he was on the bridge once more. “The Andos will show us the way, folks,” said Grisham as he took his seat. “And the Exetran is still four hours behind, so that’s how long we’ll have to recover the Edran.”

The telling of his tale only took a couple of minutes. When he was finished speaking, Grisham ordered his sensor team to hunt through the Urzox’s star charts for new entries.

As he waited, Grisham felt calmness descend upon him, though the strange sense of unease was still there, way below the surface, and only detectable if he looked for it.

For months now, Grisham’s far horizon had always been characterised by the presence of something big. He couldn’t shake the feeling that what lay in his immediate future was going to be far bigger and far more terrible than anything he’d run into before.

EIGHT

“I’ve found something, Captain,” said Lieutenant Lopez after a couple of minutes. “A new location was inserted into the charts less than twenty minutes ago.”

“Tell me the details,” said Grisham.

“There are no details, sir,” said Lopez. “There’s an entry, but it doesn’t have a name, nor anything else attached. I’ve added a flag to it.”

Grisham accessed the Urzox’s star charts and found the highlighted entry. As Lopez had said, there was no data, no nothing.

“How far is that from the endpoint of our current lightspeed transit?” asked Grisham. It was hard to be sure owing to the way the Urzox presented its navigational charts – the format it used didn’t show the distance between locations in a visually representative manner.

“It could be a few hours, or a few days, Captain,” said Adler. “We’ll find out in three hours, when this current transit ends.”

“We could instruct the Urzox to re-enter local space right now if you wanted, sir,” said Deneuve.

It was tempting, though Grisham felt reluctant. Although the Andos had told him that the Exetran would remain a near-constant four hours behind – whatever he did - Grisham didn’t want to risk introducing changes, in case the artifact had based its statement on the fact that the Urzox’s lightspeed transit would end twenty-four hours after it began.

Grisham still hadn’t made his mind up when he saw a couple of digits on the positional data for the Edran change. “Our target is moving,” he said. “Lieutenant Lopez, Lieutenant Bishop, did you see the update?”

“Yes, Captain,” said Lopez. “The positional shift wasn’t significant, but I need another data point to determine the time over which it happened.”

“Keep watching,” said Grisham. “I’m sure the Edran is on a planet somewhere and we’re just seeing the motion of that planet.”

He remembered when the Andos had first led him and his crew to the Urzox, and the artifact’s vector had kept updating to follow the path of the planet upon which the warship had been constructed. It seemed like the same thing was happening here.

Less than a minute later, the digits on the chart updated again.

“Whatever our destination is, I don’t think it’s a planet, Captain,” said Lopez. “It’s travelling at about half of one klick per second. I can’t remember seeing a planet with such a low velocity.”

“The Edran could be on a warship, or something else built out in space,” said Deneuve.

“And now it’s drifting,” said Grisham. “Or at least it’s in no hurry to get where it’s going.”

He didn’t spend too long thinking about it – the truth would be revealed soon enough. Grisham’s main worry was that the Edran would be somewhere that made it difficult to reach. As it was, four hours was likely to be tight, unless the artifact was conveniently placed for recovery.

Strangely, Grisham realised he was now just as eager to face the Exetran as he was to recover the Edran. He and his crew had been talking tactics, and how to make the best use out of the Urzox. If a confrontation with the Exetran was inevitable, then so be it – Grisham would embrace the opportunity.

Just thinking about the fight was enough to spur him into a decision. “Bring us out of lightspeed, Lieutenant Adler,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “I’m cancelling this transit.”

The Urzox re-entered local space. Grisham spared the sensors only a cursory view and found the area around the warship to be exactly like he’d expected, in that it contained plenty of nothing.

“Set us a new course, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “We’re going for the Edran.”

“Yes, sir,” Adler confirmed. “I’m entering the details into the navigational system. The journey time is estimated at eight days.”

Grisham didn’t try to hide his disappointment. He’d got himself mentally ready for a short journey, with the possibility of combat at the end of it, and it now turned out he was going to have to wait more than a week.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Not the two hours I was hoping for.”

“This is a comparatively long journey, sir,” said Adler. “It’s going to take a huge psionic boost to bring the warmup time to three minutes.”

“Go for it anyway,” said Grisham, eager to be on his way.

“Yes, sir,” said Adler. “The warmup time is confirmed at three minutes, and one of the Urzox’s satellite minds went into dormancy from the exertion.”

“We’re starting to discover the limits,” said Grisham.

“There was a lot more psionic power required there, Captain, but like I told you before, the boost needs exponentially greater energy the lower we push the lightspeed warmup.”

Grisham only nodded in response, since he didn’t want to be drawn into a technical discussion. The seconds on the timer counted down and he watched the sensors, more for something to occupy his eyes than from any expectation the Exetran would show up.

The Urzox entered lightspeed without interference, and Grisham slumped in his seat. Eight days at lightspeed was going to be draining, though on the bright side, it was better than a kick in balls or being slowly eviscerated by Ax’Kol talons.

“Eight damn days,” said Grisham. “I feel like I’ve done enough talking and now I just want to get on with things.”

“Spoken like a true adrenaline junkie,” said Deneuve.

Grisham didn’t even try to defend himself, though he knew the truth behind his words was more nuanced. He pondered what he could do to keep occupied during the coming days, and the only option beyond killing time in the mess area was communicating with inscrutable alien artifacts, or attempting to bypass the protective wall surrounding the Urzox’s consciousness and its four satellite minds.

Thinking about the Andos made Grisham recall his glimpse into the history of all those different species, granted to him when he’d first placed the artifact on its pedestal. Back then, he’d hated that his brain was unable to contain everything. Now, Grisham wasn’t sure that he wanted to learn more. Everything he’d seen was now dead and gone, and likely in the most tragic of circumstances. That was the nature of history, but Grisham didn’t feel like he was ready to explore further – assuming the Andos would be forthcoming by showing him the same vision again.

With little choice other than to put up with an extended lightspeed journey, Grisham resolved that he would relax and let the time flow by.

On occasion, he wandered through the interior of the Urzox. The spaceship was huge and with far more internal space than would be found on a Human Federation vessel. It was possible to walk for several hours without seeing the same place twice. This struck Grisham as odd, since the Urzox clearly wasn’t designed as a dedicated troop carrier, and indeed it lacked the facilities to host an army, and yet it contained many passages and rooms with seemingly no purpose.

The best Grisham could guess was that the species – plural – who’d contributed to the construction had submitted many conflicting designs and the final product had suffered because of it. Either that, or those species lacked experience in maximising the performance of a warship from its available volume.

When he wasn’t wandering through the Urzox, Grisham spent time with Sergeant Maxwell and the soldiers, or with the off-duty members of the crew. The overall mood was difficult to read, and that made Grisham even more eager to bring the mission to a conclusion.

On several occasions, he attempted communication with the Andos. While Grisham was no longer keen to delve into the past, he wanted to learn what he could about his opponents, and about the Edran. The Andos responded once or twice to his mind link, but it wouldn’t engage in meaningful conversation.

Grisham couldn’t think of an explanation for its behaviour, but he guessed that any intelligence that was capable of spending a few hundred million years in quiet contemplation would be in no hurry to do anything. Perhaps, Grisham thought, the Andos had told him everything it thought he needed to know, and it no longer felt the need to speak. Whether that would change with future developments, he could only guess.

Aside from his efforts to learn more from the Andos, Grisham also tried to form a direct connection to the consciousness within the Urzox. The invisible wall he’d run into before was still in place, and just as immovable. The four minds from the Voltran were also beyond the same barrier and Grisham wasn’t afraid to admit he missed his contact with the souls from which they’d been formed. He’d unchained them from the Ax’Kol and had promised them revenge, but now he feared the spirits had once more been shackled, only this time to the Urzox.

The thought of it was disquieting – that he might have let down so many – and Grisham was determined that he’d learn the nature of the link between the old Voltran minds and the Urzox. Unfortunately, he wasn’t ready to rock the boat too much – not with the recovery of the Edran looming. If he kept trying to break through the Urzox’s wall, the warship’s consciousness might respond forcibly in a manner that would result in Grisham being incapacitated, killed, or reduced to insanity.

Linked to this was Grisham’s uncertainty about how the Urzox and the Andos were interacting. He’d placed the artifact on the pedestal – a pedestal which seemed to have been made for this exact purpose – and yet he didn’t know if the Andos would provide a psionic boost to the warship, or if it would create some other benefit.

The longer he thought about the Urzox, the more Grisham was drawn to the conclusion that he definitely wasn’t as much in control of the vessel as he would have liked. With the Voltran, there’d been no such worry and, not for the first time, Grisham felt pangs for his old warship, and wondered how powerful it would have ended up had it absorbed yet more minds.

This, Grisham realised, was at least part of what had been bothering him since he’d recovered the Urzox – a feeling that he was captain in name only, and that he didn’t really know anything about the warship. He tried to convince himself that what he needed was combat, in order to test its limits and thereby to become comfortable with this alien vessel.

After spending hours pondering this, and the many unknowables, Grisham resolved to stop thinking about everything he couldn’t yet answer. Once he had the Edran in his grasp, then he might be better placed to properly figure things out. Grisham didn’t like kicking the can down the road, but on this occasion, he was willing to believe it was justified.

With only two hours remaining on the lightspeed timer, Grisham and his crew were ready on the bridge. Everyone was rested and at full alertness.

“We aimed for an arrival place less than a hundred thousand klicks from the Edran’s location,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “The device isn’t travelling fast, but it’ll be three hundred thousand klicks from where it was when we entered lightspeed.”

“I don’t mind the distance,” said Grisham. “I’d prefer to have eyes on the target from afar, before we go in for the pickup.”

“We’ll be less than eight minutes away at our maximum sub-light velocity,” said Adler. “Or we could execute another psionic displacement to reduce that time to near zero.”

“It all depends on what we find when we get there,” said Grisham. He checked the timer, which hadn’t moved much since his last look. “But since we’re going to be up against the clock, we’ll have to be decisive.”

He and his crew had discussed the plan of action several times, and this was nothing more than going over the same ground – not that Grisham minded. The talk continued and then, with an hour before the Urzox was due to exit lightspeed, Lieutenant Lopez spoke to Sergeant Maxwell on the comms.

“I’ve ordered the soldiers to the Voltran’s shuttle in the bay, Captain,” she said. “Sergeant Maxwell reckons he can fly the transports that were already there, but he doesn’t think they’ll be very fast.”

Grisham nodded. “I’ve seen them.”

As the final hour dragged on, the conversation dried up. Calmness descended upon Grisham and he felt more at ease than he had at any time over the last couple of weeks. The point of no return was close and those were always the moments when the doubts would fall in his wake, leaving him ready for whatever was to come.

“Twenty seconds!” yelled Lieutenant Adler, his gruff voice loud above the engines.

“The time is coming,” said Grisham. He looked across at Deneuve, and her face was set. She smiled thinly without returning the glance.

“Once we have the Edran, that’s when the fun and games will really begin,” Deneuve said.

“I’m not thinking that far ahead, Commander,” said Grisham. “If we recover the Edran, I’ll be happy. If we run into the Exetran while we’re doing it, I’ll be ecstatic.”

“I notice you didn’t say if we defeat the Exetran, sir.”

“It’ll feel good just punching them in the face.”

“With a psionically accelerated Alturian slug.”

“My thoughts exactly,” laughed Grisham.

As he said the words, the Urzox’s propulsion note changed to indicate the warship was exiting lightspeed. Grisham tightened his grip on the control bars and waited for the sensors to come online. The times of passivity were over and he was glad to see the back of them.

NINE

“The sensors are up!” said Bishop. “Commencing local area scans.”

“Lieutenant Lopez, obtain a lock on the Edran’s location,” ordered Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve started a timer, set at three hours and fifty minutes,” said Lieutenant Kinsey. “Assuming the Exetran is approximately four hours behind, that hopefully gives us a bit of leeway.”

“Acknowledged,” said Grisham.

There were no visible objects near the Urzox and he commanded the warship to maximum acceleration. The engines rose in volume and he sensed the vessel’s consciousness channelling its psionic energies into whatever technology was providing the thrust, and the velocity gauge on his control panel raced from left to right. The sight of it, combined with the sound and the feeling of acceleration brought a tight smile to Grisham’s face.

“Local scans finished and clear, Captain,” said Bishop. “I’ll assist Lieutenant Lopez.”

“As quickly as you can,” said Grisham.

It wasn’t just the engines which required the assistance of psionics – the warship’s ancient sensor arrays also required a boost, and Grisham felt the pulsing of energy through his link to the Urzox. The greater the clarity demanded of the sensors, the greater the drain on the warship’s resources. So far, that drain was under control.

When the velocity gauge stopped climbing, Grisham let the warship coast. He felt a sudden, strong urge to reach out with his telepathic power to see if he could get a sense of the Edran. With a deep breath, he resisted the temptation – the pain from his encounter with the Exetran was only a memory, but it burned brightly within him.

“Lieutenant Lopez, give me something,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez. “Here it is – at 380 thousand klicks. I’m working on the enhancement.”

An object appeared on one of the starboard feeds – a shape so indistinct that its details were lost in the distance, but which couldn’t be anything other than a spaceship.

“Enhancement complete,” said Lopez.

The feed sharpened and Lopez increased the zoom to take advantage of the increased clarity. Despite the improvement, Grisham was still unable to discern the shape of the vessel, this likely being a result of the angle from which he was viewing it. The Urzox was already travelling approximately in the right direction and he made an alteration to put the warship on an intercept course.

“How big is that spaceship?” he asked, already with a good idea of the answer.

“Big,” said Lopez. “I’m working on the estimation, but it’s hard to be sure given our relative positions. I reckon it’s got a couple of thousand metres on the Exetran – maybe more.”

“Another monster,” said Adler.

Grisham continued staring at the faraway vessel. “Its hull looks like it’s made of alloy, not flesh.”

“That’s right, Captain - the scans indicate it’s formed from metals.”

“So not the same as the Urzox or the Voltran,” said Grisham. “Interesting.”

“We’re going to run into plenty of questions we can’t answer, sir,” Deneuve warned.

“So the Edran is somewhere inside that spaceship,” said Grisham. “Damn. It could take days to search a vessel that size.”

He considered activating a psionic displacement, but since the Urzox was travelling at a thousand kilometres per second directly towards the target, it had already covered some of the distance. Grisham was a man who liked to keep something in the bag, so he decided to continue with the conventional approach, and to hold onto the Urzox’s psionic reserves.

“Less than five minutes to target, Captain,” said Bishop.

Unexpectedly, the Andos spoke inside Grisham’s mind.

The Edran will not tolerate the presence of the Urzox. You must not journey too close.

“Shit,” spat Grisham. “Of all the times…” Why didn’t you tell me before? You’ve been sitting in an underground room for half a billion years, and yet you leave something like this to the last minute? Grisham was seething. How close is too close?

I do not know how near this vessel will be permitted. The Edran is maintaining a psionic defence that will disable the Urzox.

And you know this for definite?

Yes. When I directed you to the Oblasar, I did not anticipate this.

The Oblasar is the name of that warship?

Yes. It was created to house the Edran.

How the hell am I supposed to find the artifact inside a vessel the size of that one? asked Grisham.

The location data I added to your navigational system is absolutely precise.

Grisham considered what he’d learned from this latest exchange with the Andos. While he was thinking, his mouth talked, letting his crew know about this potential showstopper.

“I’d been working on the assumption that the spaceship – the Oblasar – was the endpoint, Captain,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “But like the Andos told you, the coordinates are much more exact. They’re indicating a position forward of the target vessel’s midsection and about a third of the way down from its topsides.”

Although the Urzox was approaching the Oblasar at a tremendous velocity, the shape of the alien vessel was still impossible to determine. Grisham’s eyes stared, while his mind continued working.

You brought us a long way for this, he said, aiming his thoughts at the Andos.

Would there have ever been a better time, given that the Exetran will never stop its pursuit? I was persuaded by your argument that you could recover the Edran and put it to use against the Triumvirate.

“And I will, damnit,” snarled Grisham. How do we get onboard the Oblasar?

If the Edran is persuaded, it will let you enter.

How do we speak to the artifact in order to reach an agreement?

You communicate with your mind, human.

Grisham recognized the pressure he was under and he didn’t want to be forced into an error of judgement. Even so, the Exetran was on its way and if he didn’t recover the Edran before its arrival, he’d be obliged to engage the enemy vessel in combat and, while Grisham wasn’t going to shy away from the confrontation, he was realistic about his chances. A loss to the Exetran would effectively hand the Edran over to the enemy.

Steadying himself, Grisham reached out with his mind towards the Oblasar. His telepathic strength was more than great enough to cross the distance, but he came up against an area of nothingness, centred on the alien spaceship and extending for almost a hundred thousand kilometres in every direction.

I can’t link to the Edran. It’s like the artifact doesn’t even exist.

The Edran has created a null field. You must penetrate the field by other means.

Other means? So I have to fly through it in a shuttle?

There are no other telepaths on this vessel.

Why don’t you speak to the Edran? Grisham demanded.

I cannot help you, human. The Edran is unknown to me. I have the power to find the artifact, and that is the limit of my sway.

Does the Edran know you’re here?

Grisham detected a slight delay before the answer came.

No.

Why not?

Because I choose to hide my presence.

Why? asked Grisham. He couldn’t fathom why the Andos would want to conceal itself. I don’t like this.

The artifact said nothing and Grisham’s anger grew.

Damnit, is there anything useful you can tell me? he said.

I am the Finder. I have nothing more.

I’m going to the Oblasar and you’re coming with me, said Grisham, mentally calculating how long it would take him to sprint to the pedestal room and grab the Andos.

I cannot enter the null.

Why not? asked Grisham. If I’ve got you in my pocket, how is a null field going to stop you?

The Andos was silent.

Once more, Grisham told his crew what he’d discussed with the artifact.

“This stinks,” said Deneuve.

“That it does,” said Grisham. “The Andos is being evasive and I have no idea why.”

“It sounds like the Andos fears the Edran,” said Adler. “Maybe the two of them have been in conflict sometime in the past.”

Grisham briefly considered blowing the crap out of the Oblasar and ordering Sergeant Maxwell to take a heavy object to the Andos. Certainly, that would make his life easier, but he’d long ago learned that the easy route wasn’t always the best route.

Sometimes it is, came the rebellious thought. Destroy these artifacts and have done.

And yet, Grisham couldn’t bring himself to do it. He remained convinced that the Andos and the Edran were the key to humanity’s salvation, if only he could figure out how to make best use of them. If the artifacts were smashed into pieces, they’d be no use whatsoever. Besides, he could order the destruction of the Andos at any time, and he had maybe three hours in which he could attempt a search of the Oblasar. If he couldn’t locate the Edran, all he had to do was return to the Urzox and reconsider his plans.

“I’m heading to the Oblasar,” Grisham said. “If I can’t find the Edran in three hours, I’ll return.”

Deneuve didn’t look happy. “I wonder if we need to abort right now, Captain, and have a rethink.”

“We don’t have time for thinking, Commander,” said Grisham. “I don’t want to be stuck on the Oblasar, so I won’t overstay.”

“I’m more worried about what the Edran will do if it thinks you’re hostile.”

“That’s a risk I’ll have to take,” said Grisham.

Conversing with both his crew and the artifact had taken so long that the Urzox was approaching the hundred-thousand-kilometre null zone around the Oblasar. Grisham slowed the warship and banked onto a new heading that allowed him a full view of the target vessel.

The Oblasar was fifteen thousand metres from nose to tail, and the metals of its hull were pocked and scarred, like it had fought for an eternity. Broad wings swept out from the vessel’s midsection and continued all the way to the flat stern, while the topsides and undersides were curved, ending at a rounded nose. Grisham could see no external weaponry, but square hatches – likely concealing launch clusters and repeater turrets - were apparent everywhere on the Oblasar’s hull, leading him to conclude it could likely kick serious ass when required.

Aside from these visible details, the feeling Grisham got from the Oblasar was that it was both incredibly ancient, and yet at the same time, filled with technology that might be relevant even to this day. He shivered at the thought.

“It doesn’t look much like an Ax’Kol warship,” said Deneuve. “Or like the Urzox either.”

Grisham nodded in agreement. “It must predate every other vessel we’ve encountered so far.”

He rose from his seat. “I’m heading for the shuttle. Lieutenant Lopez, please let Sergeant Maxwell know I’m coming.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And ask him to send a couple of his squad to the Andos room. They’re to equip themselves with tools capable of breaking a fist-sized stone sphere into pieces, but they’re to await orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham turned to Deneuve. “You have the bridge, Commander. I’d appreciate it if you could give the transport some inherited velocity.”

Now that Grisham was set, Deneuve didn’t argue or question his orders. “I’ll see it happens, Captain.”

Leaving the bridge at a run, Grisham dashed through the passages within the Urzox. Events were moving fast and he hoped he was riding the wave, rather than being carried along with it. He reached out with his telepathy and found Sergeant Maxwell and the others on the shuttle, while two of the soldiers were on their way to the Andos room.

Unable to resist, Grisham searched out the Andos. It was remote, though for a split-second he got a feeling it was watching him. Drawing away, Grisham tried again to find a way into the Urzox’s consciousness. The wall blocked him, and prevented him from locating the minds from the Voltran. Regret touched Grisham like it had before.

As he approached the shuttle bay, Grisham searched out the Edran, hoping the device might recognize him and initiate communication without him having to make the journey over to the Oblasar. The null was just that – not so much an emptiness as an absence of anything. If the Edran was in the middle of the zone, it wasn’t speaking.

Private Lyles was waiting on the platform outside the shuttle and the dim light from the transport cast a distorted shadow of her figure across the floor. Beyond her visor, the soldier’s eyes were wide and she wore an expression of grim focus. It was a look Grisham recognized. The side events were over and the mission was moving into a place from which futures would be decided.

Grisham dashed onto the shuttle and headed straight to the cockpit.

TEN

Grisham piloted the Voltran’s shuttle across the huge bay within the Urzox. A square door in the starboard bay wall was already open and the tunnel beyond led all the way through to the outside. Feeding power into the engines, Grisham guided the transport into the opening. In a few seconds, the shuttle emerged into the darkness of space.

“The Urzox has dropped us twenty thousand klicks outside the null zone and it’s banking away,” said Corporal Barkley.

The huge spaceship had been travelling with its starboard flank aimed directly at the Oblasar. Now that the shuttle had launched, Commander Deneuve piloted the Urzox rapidly away so that it wouldn’t enter the null zone. In moments, the warship was little more than a speck on the rear feeds.

“We’re carrying eight hundred klicks per second,” said Grisham, checking the instrumentation. “At this velocity, we’ll be at the Oblasar in two-point-five minutes.”

“There’s a lot of slowing down to do, Captain,” said Sergeant Maxwell.

Grisham had a good feel for when he’d be required to commence the deceleration, but he ran the numbers through the transport’s navigation system just to be sure. “This shuttle wasn’t made to travel at such a high velocity, but it can slow down well enough. Our journey to the Oblasar will take a little over six minutes in total.”

“What about the return journey, Captain?” asked Barkley. The soldiers were well-informed about the difficulties of the situation, since Lieutenant Lopez had filled them in to save Grisham from having to explain it himself.

“The return trip from the Oblasar – from the time we leave, until we’re beyond the null zone - will require more than eighty minutes,” said Grisham. “However, this mission dances to my tune, not the tune of the Andos. If we’re running low on time, the Urzox will come pick us up. Alien artifacts be damned!”

“Amen to that,” growled Maxwell with a surprising amount of feeling.

“I have a sensor lock on the Oblasar, sir,” said Barkley. “And we’re coming up to the null zone.”

The target vessel was a long way distant, but the shuttle’s sensors were of a superior quality and they allowed Grisham a detailed view of the Oblasar. He wondered what the hell he was going to find inside - assuming the Edran allowed him entry.

“We’re now within the null zone, Captain,” said Barkley.

Grisham became aware that the two soldiers were watching him carefully and he realised they were worried in case the null affected him in some way they could only guess at.

“I’m fine,” he said.

Despite his words, Grisham focused on himself for a moment, hunting for signs of a creeping pain in his skull. He felt no different to usual, which was a good sign. Through his mental link to the shuttle, Grisham watched the distance to target readout, which continued to plummet. And still there was no indication he was about to be struck by anything malignant.

“Captain, we’ve lost comms to the Urzox,” said Barkley.

“You’re shitting me?” Grisham cursed again.

“No, sir. The comms link is dead.”

The Ax’Kol comms were able to pass directly through a planet without a problem, so Grisham hadn’t expected to lose them here.

“I can’t remember a mission when there wasn’t one problem or another with comms,” said Barkley philosophically.

“Has all that experience taught you how do without, Corporal?” asked Grisham.

“Hell no, sir. Every time it happens I say a dozen curse words in my head.”

Grisham would have laughed if he hadn’t been in the middle of that same crap right now. Nevertheless, he forced a smile. “We’ll handle it.”

“Yes, sir, same as we always do,” said Barkley.

“Have you tried contacting the Edran yet, Captain?” asked Sergeant Maxwell suddenly, like he’d been waiting for the right moment to ask.

The soldier didn’t usually have a lot of questions, so this was a sure sign he wasn’t comfortable with the situation.

“Not since we left the Urzox, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “I was kind of hoping the artifact would speak to me first.”

“That’s a good way to appear hostile, sir,” said Barkley. “If an alien came running towards my position, I would definitely shoot it instead of waiting to find out if it had something interesting to say.”

“Point taken,” said Grisham.

The soldier’s words had made him confront the ugly truth that he was fearful of the agony that might result from contact with the artifact – an artifact which surely had vastly greater telepathic abilities than he did. Steeling himself, Grisham searched towards the Oblasar. He felt the null all around him, and it confined his telepathic powers such that he wasn’t sure if his search had even ventured beyond the physical bounds of his head.

“The Edran isn’t talking,” he said.

“How are we supposed to enter the Oblasar?” asked Barkley. “I can’t see an opening.”

“If the worst happens, I have a Plan B,” said Grisham. “We’ll turn tail and head back to the Urzox. Then, we’ll start firing Alturian slugs at the Oblasar. If we can’t have the Edran, the Ax’Kol certainly can’t either. After that, we’ll take on the Exetran.”

“That’s the kind of plan that will either see us dead, or victorious without having to spend a lifetime running around the universe,” said Maxwell.

“Are you ready for an all-or-nothing show of force, Sergeant?”

Maxwell gave a half-smile. “I’ve got too much to live for, Captain.” The smile faded. “But damn, it would be good to have this over, so we could return home.”

“It might well come to a win or lose engagement,” said Grisham. “And it might happen soon.”

“I got that from your voice, sir,” said Maxwell. “If it’s the right time, then it’s the right time.”

The conversation tailed off, though it was obvious the soldiers had plenty of thoughts going through their heads. Grisham began the period of extended deceleration that would bring the shuttle to within a few hundred kilometres of the Oblasar. The transport’s twenty-two-kilometre-per-second maximum velocity would be sufficient to cover what distance remained.

For the second time, Grisham attempted contact with the Edran, and once again he wasn’t sure if his telepathic powers were going anywhere. At the back of his mind was a thought that something definitely wasn’t right here – about everything. It was the same feeling which had been with him for weeks now, and he was sure it had started not long after he and his crew had recovered the Urzox.

Grisham’s face twisted in anger and he did his best to concentrate on what lay in his immediate future. He was committed to this journey to the Oblasar and he damn well intended to get something out of it. Everything else could wait.

“Two minutes to the Oblasar,” said Barkley.

The transport’s engines grumbled and Grisham watched the forward feeds as the target spaceship became ever clearer. He marvelled at how much of its exterior showed signs of damage, and yet he saw nothing that indicated the vessel had suffered operationally. The projectile scars and the patches of blackened metal seemed more superficial than anything.

“One minute,” said Barkley.

Grisham gave the telepathic search a third try and the outcome was the same as before. He wondered if the Edran was in a state of semi-dormancy in which it maintained the null zone, but was otherwise unaware of its surroundings. Then, Grisham recalled that the Andos had told him it was the Oblasar which was creating the null. Given how the artifact claimed to know almost nothing about the Edran, it was a strangely specific fact. Or maybe the Andos was strong enough that it could detect the source of the null.

Baring his teeth, Grisham struggled to shake off the conflict in his head. He really needed to be thinking about the Oblasar, the Edran, and nothing else.

“Captain, is anything wrong?” asked Maxwell.

“Does something look wrong, Sergeant?”

“I don’t know, sir. That’s why I was asking.”

Grisham inhaled slowly until his lungs were full and then he blew the air out steadily. “It’s like there’s something happening in my head, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Is it the Edran, sir?” Maxwell was concerned, but he was trying to hide it. “Maybe it’s trying to communicate.”

“Let’s find out,” said Grisham, extending his telepathic powers for a fourth time. The nothingness was all around. “If the Edran is on this warship ahead of us, it’s staying quiet.”

“If you don’t mind me saying it, this doesn’t feel right, Captain,” said Maxwell.

“We’re trying to second-guess a whole bunch of stuff here, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “I keep telling myself to keep my eyes on the finish line – when we’ll have both the Andos and the Edran in our possession.”

“We should destroy them and have done,” said Barkley. “That’ll leave the Human Federation and the Kijol to deal with the Ax’Kol, but hell, when you boil it down, it’s just another war.”

“The Ax’Kol want to make us extinct, Corporal,” said Grisham. He felt the beginnings of a headache now, just behind his eyes. “I wouldn’t call that just another war.”

“High stakes mean we’ll fight harder, sir. And when it’s over, we’ll have saved thousands of other species from being turned into Ax’Kol warships.”

“I’d like to save humanity first and foremost,” said Grisham. “Once we have those two artifacts, we’ll be in a much better position to do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Barkley hadn’t given up on the argument – it was obvious from his face that he had strong feelings about everything that was happening – but he clearly didn’t want to discuss it any further with Grisham. For a moment, that made Grisham disappointed, since he’d never shut down a discussion. That was enough to make him wonder if the soldier didn’t believe that possession of the two artifacts would be in any way useful. If Barkley’s position was such, then he likely wouldn’t bother trying to persuade a superior officer who had a completely opposite view.

The aching in Grisham’s head had grown into a dull pounding. He didn’t know what was causing it - since his telepathy wasn’t working in the null - and he hoped it wouldn’t intensify. A painkilling shot from his combat suit would pre-empt a worsening of the headache, but he didn’t like taking the drugs until the need was proven.

By this moment, the sustained deceleration had reduced the shuttle to its twenty-two-kilometres-per-second maximum. The Oblasar was less than five hundred kilometres away and Grisham reduced velocity further. He couldn’t see any point in continuing the approach while the Oblasar was locked up tight.

Two minutes went by with no developments. Time and again, Grisham attempted communication with the Edran, but always it was like he was shouting into the void. The pain in his head continued to grow and he clenched his jaw against it.

“Maybe we should head back, sir,” said Barkley. “And do that shooting you were talking about.”

“No, we’re going to head in closer,” said Grisham. From out of nowhere, he had a sudden, strong feeling that the null zone might begin a few kilometres from the Oblasar’s hull and he was determined to check it out.

He commanded the shuttle to accelerate, and the distance to the Oblasar fell rapidly. Grisham had never seen anything remotely as awe-inspiring as this warship, and he was desperate to find a way inside.

At a hundred kilometres from the Oblasar’s portside flank, Grisham brought the shuttle to a halt. He sent out his mind again. The null was gone, he knew it, but he gained no sense of the Edran. A groan escaped his lips as the pain in his head became a thundering pulse of agony.

“Captain?” asked Maxwell, stepping closer in case Grisham fell.

The pain subsided, though Grisham had a feeling it would return. He ordered his combat suit to give him the injection, wishing he hadn’t been so stubborn earlier. A cold needle pierced his skin and an even colder liquid was squirted into his neck. The needle withdrew and Grisham inhaled deeply, in the hope that the extra oxygen would hasten the drugs around his body.

“I’ll be fine, Sergeant,” he said, between ragged breaths. “I’ve had telepathic headaches before.”

“Why is it happening now, sir? Are you under attack?”

“No,” said Grisham.

He knew what he had to do. Through the pain, he extended his telepathy again and found what he was looking for. The nearest docking bay door was fitted with a telepathic interface. Grisham linked to it and sent it an open command.

“There! A way in!” said Barkley. “Did you do that, sir?”

“Yes,” said Grisham, aiming the shuttle towards the entrance. A surging feeling of elation and the promise of victory made the pain in his head fade from an agony to a mere discomfort.

Having received a command from elsewhere, the bay door closed. With a snarl of anger, Grisham commanded it to open again. The shuttle was approaching dangerously fast, but he needed to get inside the Oblasar and recover the Edran.

Once more, the bay door closed and this time, Grisham experienced a fury that made the blood pound in his temples and increased the pain in his head to new heights. He roared with it and his knees wanted to buckle, but he didn’t let them.

“Captain, I—”

Maxwell’s voice seemed to come from somewhere faraway, and Grisham turned at the sound. The soldier’s face wore a puzzled expression, like he was listening to a voice that only he could hear. Then, Maxwell stepped across, took Grisham by the upper arm and hauled him away from the shuttle’s interface post.

“Private Logan!” yelled Maxwell. “Get your ass in here. Now! Corporal Barkley, make sure this shuttle doesn’t impact with the Oblasar.”

As he was giving the orders, Maxwell stretched a leg out behind Grisham, threw him to the ground and then sat on his chest. Grisham’s rage was incandescent, and he struggled to break free.

“We need the Edran!” he shouted. He tried to throw Maxwell to one side, but the soldier was too heavy and too strong.

“Corporal Barkley, once the shuttle is under control, sit on his legs!” snapped Maxwell.

Grisham was faintly aware of Private Logan standing in the cockpit doorway. Other figures were behind him.

“Private Logan, put the Captain under!” bellowed Maxwell.

“Sergeant?”

“Do it!” roared Maxwell, with a fury that matched Grisham’s own.

Grisham struggled and he fought, but he was no match for the combined strengths of Maxwell and Barkley. Orders to the rest of the squad, telling them to arrest Maxwell, fell on deaf ears. Grisham could hear the soldiers talking, but he didn’t understand the words.

“We have to find the Edran!” he screamed.

Private Logan stooped next to Grisham, and the medic extracted a long tube from his med-box. The tube ended in a gleaming needle and, without further hesitation, Logan jammed it into the port in Grisham’s suit helmet.

For the second time, a needle slid into Grisham’s neck, though he didn’t feel the pain through the all-encompassing agony in his head. More drugs were injected into his body and, though he tried his damnedest to stay awake, he was forced into unconsciousness.

ELEVEN

Grisham woke suddenly and his eyes snapped open. He was in a dimly lit place and he had sense of movement. The pain in his head was gone, and it took him a moment to realise what a relief that was. However, his mind wasn’t entirely clear - he felt lethargic, doubtless as a result of the drugs, and his mouth was dry like the desert.

“The Captain’s awake,” said a voice. Private Lyles.

“Those recovery shots only take a couple of minutes to cancel out the sedatives,” said a different voice. Private Logan.

“Private Vaughan, put him down,” said another voice, which Grisham recognized as belonging to Sergeant Maxwell.

“Yes, sir.”

“The rest of you watch out. We don’t know if he’s better yet. Private Logan, be ready to give him another shot on my order.”

“I’m ready, Sergeant.”

Grisham’s brain had now pulled itself together enough to understand that he was being carried over Private Vaughan’s shoulder. Without visible effort, the soldier bent low. Grisham was helped to the ground by willing hands and he was positioned with his back against a solid surface. He was in a corridor with alloy walls.

Sergeant Maxwell crouched in front of Grisham and his worried eyes stared long. “Captain, how are you feeling?”

“What happened?” asked Grisham, ignoring the question.

“You were under the control of the Andos, sir, and you were trying to force an entry into the Oblasar.”

Grisham remembered now, but the memory was hazy. He knew that something bad had happened to him, but he didn’t know what, and his brain was still jumbled as if he’d suffered a concussion.

“And you stopped me.”

“In a way, sir. We’re on the Oblasar now.” Maxwell looked down at the floor. “The Edran spoke to me. It told me that it couldn’t reach you – that the Andos had created a block around your mind.” He lifted his gaze once more. “And that’s when I ordered Private Logan to put you under.”

It hadn’t been long since Grisham regained consciousness, but the recovery shot was doing a remarkable job at dispersing the vestiges of the sedative from his system. Already, the fog clouding his brain was clearing and his thoughts were coming together. He tipped his head back as he began to grasp how much he’d been fooled – and how much he’d been used.

“The Andos,” said Grisham. “It’s been playing with my mind ever since we found the Urzox and I didn’t understand what was happening.” He shook his head. “I’ve had this feeling that something was wrong and it’s taken this for me to realise what it was.”

“The Andos has become corrupted, sir,” said Maxwell. “That’s what the Edran told me.”

“How? When?” asked Grisham. He cursed as his mind made the link. “Back on Hevos, I thought the Andos was protecting me from the Exetran, but it must have been fighting against the Virdas artifact and that’s what kept the pressure off me.”

“And the Andos lost the battle,” said Maxwell. “The Virdas corrupted it and now four out of five are controlled by the Gavax’Kol.”

“The Andos is still on the Urzox,” said Grisham in alarm. “I had a feeling that something was up with the consciousness on that spaceship – that I was never quite in control.”

“We have no way to contact the Urzox, Captain,” said Maxwell.

“I know.” Grisham wanted to close his eyes and for all this to go away. “What else did the Edran say to you?”

“It invited us to enter the Oblasar, sir.” Maxwell touched a fingertip to his own temple. “And it planted a route in here. Where it’ll lead us, I don’t know, but that’s the way we were heading.”

Grisham had finally added everything up. The Andos had been corrupted, and, since the escape from Hevos, it had manipulated him into following the course of its choosing, rather than his own. Casting his mind back, Grisham could now remember many times when he’d been conflicted on what he should do for the best, but always he’d come back to the Edran, and how important its recovery would be for the Human Federation’s continued existence.

With his mind clear, Grisham could identify all those moments when his thoughts had been influenced. Right at the end, when he’d tried to force open the bay door leading into the Oblasar, he’d been almost consumed by the Andos, like the artifact was using Grisham as a conduit, rather than the other way round.

“If the Andos has the power to locate anything, why didn’t the Exetran just kill us on Hevos?” asked Private Lyles. “The Ax’Kol had gained what they wanted.”

“But they hadn’t gained what they wanted,” said Grisham. “The real prize is here on the Oblasar.”

“The null,” said Maxwell. “The Ax’Kol needed us to get through the null.”

“I’m sure that’s the reason, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “The Andos planned for us to walk onto the Oblasar, recover the Edran, and to walk right out with the fifth artifact.”

“That reminds me, sir – the Edran called itself the First, rather than the Fifth,” said Maxwell. “I don’t know if that’s significant.”

“I’m sure it’s damned significant,” said Grisham. “Though how it changes things for us, I couldn’t tell you.” He had another thought and it brought a humourless smile to his face. “Before we left the Urzox, the Andos mentioned that there were no other telepaths onboard. I didn’t think about it at the time, but I guess that was important to the artifact.”

“Because otherwise the Edran couldn’t have spoken to me,” said Maxwell.

Grisham nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “The Andos screwed up, Sergeant. Let’s see if we can make it pay.”

“Ah crap,” said Private Chau. “Does this mean you’re going to start reading our thoughts, Sergeant?”

“Got something to hide, Private?” asked Maxwell.

“Well, sir, your mother and I…we’ve been—”

“Enough!” said Maxwell, though without any notable anger.

“Is it true that you can read thoughts, Captain?” asked Lyles.

“Yes and no,” said Grisham. He was surprised it had taken anyone this long to ask. “I can detect your minds, and I can read your uppermost emotions, like when you’re angry, but no I can’t read what you’re thinking. Anyway, it’s not in my nature to do something shitty like that. What’s in your head can stay in there, soldier.”

Lyles looked relieved, though Grisham didn’t give it a second thought. Now he was upright, Grisham felt steady enough that he was ready to proceed. He checked the timer he’d set on his HUD and discovered that not much more than three hours was left before the Exetran was predicted to arrive in this area of space.

“Damnit,” said Grisham. “The four-hour pursuit time is almost certainly going to be a lie as well – the Exetran might already be here.” He cursed again. “In fact, it’s probably been right behind us all the way, since the Andos is tied in with the Urzox’s navigational system and knew exactly where we were going.”

“On the plus side, the Ax’Kol don’t have the Edran,” said Corporal Barkley. “And if they can’t make it through the null zone, they won’t be getting their hands on it in the future either.”

“Maybe they’ll destroy the Oblasar,” said Private Lowe.

“As far as I can tell, the Ax’Kol have been hunting the Edran for hundreds of millions of years, Private,” said Grisham. “They’re not likely to blow it up just because they got denied this time. Those assholes are playing the long game.”

“Which leaves us trapped here on the Oblasar,” said Corporal Barkley. “And with the Urzox under the control of the Andos.”

The situation was a bad one, but Grisham had come through tough situations before. In truth, he felt in a much better mood than he could have expected. When he paused to reflect, he realised that his mind had, in fact, simply returned to normal, and that the Andos must have been a constant drain on his spirit, like a parasite, with Grisham the unwitting and unknowing host.

“If the Edran is the First, perhaps we need to go find out what all the fuss is about,” he said. “Lead on, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir. I’m assuming this route in my head doesn’t lead straight to the starboard exit.”

“The Edran wants us to go somewhere,” said Grisham. “We’ll find something, and it won’t be the exit.”

Maxwell nodded and set off along the corridor. Having been out cold for fifteen minutes, Grisham had completely lost his bearings.

“Which way is this?” he asked, walking alongside Maxwell.

“We’re heading towards the nose, Captain.”

The passage was easily wide enough for two to walk abreast, and Grisham tapped his knuckles against the grey wall. Although there was an atmosphere to carry the sound - which his environmental sensor was advising him not to risk inhaling – the action produced no more than a quiet thud, and the wall felt utterly solid.

“The propulsion is offline,” said Grisham, telling Maxwell something he’d surely already realised.

“Yes, sir. I noticed.”

“By the way – that was good work on the shuttle,” said Grisham. “Even if I was on the receiving end of it.”

“No problem, sir. I’m just glad we’ve got you back.” Maxwell glanced over. “You’d been acting strangely for a time.”

“Nobody told me.”

“Lightspeed journeys affect everyone differently, sir.”

“That’s the truth. How far are we from our destination?”

“I don’t know,” said Maxwell. “We’ve travelled a few hundred metres from the shuttle already. Every time we reach an intersection, I just get this feeling about which way to turn.”

“We’ll get there when we get there,” said Grisham, though he didn’t like not knowing.

Maxwell was well aware of the urgency and he was holding a good pace. The passage stretched into the distance and the gloom was such that it was difficult to be sure if the darker patches ahead were just variations in the grey, or intersections leading to other places.

Even though the circumstances had changed, Grisham still had the four-hour pursuit timer in his head. While those four hours no longer represented a trustworthy boundary, everyone involved in this mission was in enormous danger, and the Edran was likely on the brink of falling into the enemy’s possession. Neither did Grisham want to think too hard about what might be happening on the Urzox. The warship was almost certainly lost to him, and that left him with effectively nothing that could combat the Ax’Kol.

“Are you ready to run, Captain?” asked Maxwell.

“Let’s go.”

Maxwell accelerated from a slow jog to a run and Grisham found he could keep up easily enough. The wonders of modern medicine had first knocked him out and then removed all traces of the first drug from his system. Grisham felt almost like nothing had happened to his body.

A left-right intersection became visible in the gloom and Maxwell pointed right – starboard – to indicate which way to turn. Around the corner was another corridor, with the same featureless alloy walls and the same feeling of emptiness. Grisham wondered how long it had been since living creatures walked the corridors of this immense spaceship.

Another turning followed and then another. As he ran along the corridors, Grisham fought the temptation to reach out telepathically to the Edran. After the mental trauma he’d suffered, he needed a break, even if it was only for this short time. Doubtless the artifact would make itself known at some point, just like it had tried to make itself known during Grisham’s shuttle ride to the Oblasar.

The corridor ended and the squad entered a huge open space, though with a ceiling no more than three metres high. Hundreds of thick pillars arranged in a grid pattern went from floor to ceiling and, strangely, they reminded Grisham of the underground city on Hevos.

Maxwell didn’t slow and he continued towards the nose of the warship. The far wall of the room was lost in the near darkness and there was something so utterly alien about this place that Grisham thought for a moment he might be still unconscious and dreaming a particularly vivid dream.

“I don’t think it’s far, Captain,” said Maxwell.

“Let’s hope it isn’t,” said Grisham. “If our destination is in the nose section, we could be running for a long time.”

“I think we’re heading for the bridge, sir.”

Grisham didn’t offer an opinion. He just wanted to get to where they were going as soon as possible.

A short corridor led to another room, this one being circular in shape and with a single, much broader pillar in the centre. The air felt charged and dense, leading Grisham to believe that the pillar was an energy conduit. He indicated to Maxwell that they should give it a wide berth and they did so.

The next corridor was intersected several times, but Maxwell ignored all the turnings. Each time Grisham passed one of the joining passages, he looked for signs that would tell him if the Oblasar had ever been home to anything living. He was starting to believe that the vessel had, in fact, been constructed solely for the Edran. Certainly there was nothing to suggest there had ever been a crew, though Grisham admitted to himself that he hadn’t explored more than a fraction of the interior.

At the end of the corridor was a curved door, two metres wide and three high. When Grisham and Maxwell stopped in front of it, the door opened to reveal a cylindrical room beyond.

“A lift,” said Grisham.

“This is the way, sir.”

The soldiers entered the lift car. Inside, there was no control panel, but Grisham wasn’t expecting to need one. Sure enough, the door closed and, a moment later, he felt the lift car accelerating down, heading deeper into the Oblasar.

After a short time, the lift came to a halt and the door slid aside. Grisham looked through the opening.

“We’ve arrived,” he said.

TWELVE

A short passage led into a circular room with a diameter of no more than four metres. The ceiling was high at ten metres, the air was cold like the grave and the light was oppressively dim. A single additional exit led to another space about twenty metres away. Through the opening, Grisham could see what he believed to be the bridge. Evidently, and contrary to his earlier suspicions, the Oblasar had once been crewed, or had at least been intended to have a crew.

Although Grisham felt himself drawn to investigate the bridge, he had other matters to attend first. In the centre of the current room was a low pillar which was, at first glance, identical to the one on the Urzox. Grisham was the first out of the lift and, as he approached the pillar, he caught glimpses of an intricate pattern that evaded his eye when he tried to focus on it.

Atop the pillar was a sphere, about the size of his fist. This sphere was made from a material so dark that it seemed to absorb what little light was in the room, and it was surrounded by an almost tangible aura which made Grisham think of a black hole.

“The Edran,” he said.

Grisham felt no alarm and stepped closer to the pedestal. Words appeared in his mind.

You are here, once-corrupted of the Andos.

I’m free of it now.

I have erected a shield about your mind. You are invisible to the others.

Thank you, said Grisham, figuring that good manners never did any harm. I am sorry that I brought your enemies here.

All things happen in time.

The Ax’Kol wish to bring you into their possession.

So that they may find life. The Ax’Kol are abominations.

I would like to stop them finding any more species to murder, said Grisham. And I’d like to stop them wiping out my own species as well.

The Gavax’Kol is strong.

Stronger than the Edran?

That has not been tested. However, four of the artifacts have been corrupted. Against them all I cannot prevail.

Why are the other artifacts corrupted, but you are not? asked Grisham.

I was made before the others. I was made to bring life together. The Gavax’Kol, the Ravon, the Virdas and the Andos were created a billion years after the Edran, by a species which hoped to capture the past glories of their ancestors.

Grisham experienced a momentary giddiness at the thought of a billion years passing. He had a feeling that the Edran itself had been made even before the formation of Earth. Long before life first appeared on humanity’s home planet, species were roaming far and wide through the universe, employing technologies which were now lost in time. Grisham imagined those species being equipped with telepathic powers that could cross galaxies in zero-time, forging links to other species. And all of them were dead and gone like the others made extinct by the Ax’Kol.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Grisham sent his next thought. Why did the Gavax’Kol decide it needed to destroy life?

It was made imperfectly. The species which created it poured themselves into the Gavax’Kol, yet their minds were tainted. The artifact gained a perception of life that was never intended.

How did the Andos resist the corruption for so long?

The Andos was lost – hidden, before it could take its home on the Urzox – and thereby did it escape the influence of the others. But you must know that it was already on the brink of corruption. The seed of it was planted upon its inception. It was a willing convert.

Why didn’t you do something to stop it happening? asked Grisham.

The power supply of this vessel is depleted. It has drifted for so long. The Oblasar is my home. I am part of the Oblasar. I cannot leave, so here I stay.

There is power – power for the lights, power for the doors.

Entry into lightspeed requires activation of the primary Kalor drive. The Kalor drive was believed to be immune to degradation.

And it failed over the aeons, said Grisham. Was the Gavax’Kol also fitted with a Kalor drive?

Yes.

And the Gavax’Kol figured a way around the degradation of its own engines by extracting life from the species it found.

Yes. That was not an acceptable solution. I allowed the Oblasar to fail.

Grisham became aware of Sergeant Maxwell’s increasing agitation and he withdrew his mind from the conversation.

“I’m fine, Sergeant,” said Grisham. “I’m speaking to the Edran.”

“I just didn’t want you to become—”

“There’s no problem,” Grisham repeated. “The Edran says it’s created a shield around my mind.”

Maxwell nodded. “Is there a way out of this for us, sir?”

“I don’t know. I’ll keep talking and see what comes up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham sought out the artifact again and found it waiting for him.

The Exetran was in pursuit of the Urzox, he said.

Yes – the Exetran is outside of the null.

Can it break through?

The Ax’Kol are the antithesis of life. The null generated by the Oblasar will destroy them. However, it is a protection which has never been tested. I have evaded the Ax’Kol until now.

I thought you said the Oblasar was out of power.

The null is created by the backup supply, came the reply. The backup supply is also degrading and will last for approximately another fifteen thousand years.

That’s a few lifetimes, but still not long enough, said Grisham. Will the Gavax’Kol be heading this way?

Yes, along with the Evoldor. When the four artifacts are assembled, they will attempt my corruption.

Which they can do from outside the null?

The null will destroy the Ax’Kol, but it will not block telepathy.

So the solution is to get you out of here or to destroy all four of those artifacts.

The Oblasar cannot enter lightspeed.

So you told me, said Grisham.

On the surface of it, this was, if not the end of the road, then certainly the last warning sign before the broken bridge over the ten-kilometre-deep canyon. However, Grisham was sure a solution existed, if only he could figure out what it was.

Can you remove the corruption from the other artifacts?

No. When a choice has been made, I cannot undo it.

Even if you wanted to? asked Grisham.

The corruption is the taint of the creating species. It is inherent within the artifacts and will always exist. Once that corruption has taken over, it cannot be removed.

Is there anything that makes the artifacts difficult to destroy? Or will a plain old plasma missile do the job? said Grisham.

The materials of our construction are impervious to decay, but otherwise we are vulnerable to harm. You are asking yourself if you should destroy the Edran.

No I’m not, Grisham answered truthfully. What I’m asking myself is if there’s a way to recharge the Kalor drive on the Oblasar and use this vessel to blow the crap out of the Ax’Kol Triumvirate.

The technology on the Oblasar precedes the technology on the Gavax’Kol and was once superior. Whether that remains the case after so long, I do not know, but perhaps the Oblasar will present a challenge to these opponents. However, it will not be a match for all three of the Triumvirate at once.

“Captain, is everything still fine?” asked Maxwell.

“Yes,” said Grisham, focusing his eyes on the soldier’s concerned face. “The engines on the Oblasar have run out of juice, the Exetran is waiting for us beyond the null zone, and we’ve lost control of the Urzox.”

“I’m struggling to see where the problem is, Captain,” said Lyles.

Despite everything, Grisham laughed. “I was brought up to believe there’s an answer to everything and I aim to find one here.” He turned to face Maxwell again. “The Andos is gone from my head, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir. It’s just that these artifacts,” Maxwell gestured with his gun towards the Edran. “They have a lot more practice than you.”

“That they do,” said Grisham. “Don’t stop keeping an eye on me.”

“No, sir, I won’t.”

Behind Maxwell’s eyes was the worry that he might also be vulnerable to the same kind of inveigling attack on his mind that had Grisham had suffered.

“I’ll see if the Edran will shield you as well, Sergeant.”

Grisham linked to the artifact again, without waiting for Maxwell to answer.

Can you shield the other telepath who is with me?

His mind’s telepathic potential is limited and will not develop further. He will not require shielding.

Grisham couldn’t help himself but ask. Do all these others with me have telepathic potential?

No. You are creatures of technology.

What makes me different?

There are always aberrations.

I’ve been thinking about what you told me, said Grisham. About how the Gavax’Kol recharged its Kalor drive by using the life energy of the species it killed. Could you do the same?

Yes, but I will not. That is the path to corruption.

The Urzox was partially created from the same biological materials as the Triumvirate, and those materials were given willingly by the contributing species, said Grisham.

How sure are you about that willingness, human?

Grisham hesitated. I just assumed it was the case, judging by what I saw on the planet where we found the Urzox.

No living creature willingly gives its life. There is always an element of coercion.

Although he’d never believed there was anything romantic in the notion of all those species on the Urzox’s construction planet giving up their lives, Grisham had convinced himself their sacrifice was for the right reason – to create a warship that could offer a challenge to the Ax’Kol. Now, hearing the words of the Edran, he felt a sudden, clenching sadness deep inside. The depth of the emotion prompted his next words.

A time ago, my crew and I recovered an Ax’Kol vessel – the Voltran - from the planet upon which it had crashed. I learned how to communicate with the mind inside that warship. Within it were a billion lost souls. Everything had been taken from them and they were shackled to a vessel used by the Ax’Kol to murder yet more innocents. By the time the Voltran was subsumed into the Urzox, it contained four minds in total. I promised those souls they would have their revenge.

I cannot find the minds you describe. They are behind a wall.

That is what I discovered. The Urzox was created with a mind of its own. Somehow, it made the others into satellites.

The Urzox was to be a primary vessel and its mind would be of great potency. Perhaps it fooled these other minds into becoming its thralls.

Grisham well remembered the time when it happened. As the Voltran’s minds were being drawn away, he’d plunged into the grey and had discovered no alarm among the spirits. He’d thought their calm was indicative of their wishes. Had he known then what he knew now, Grisham would have alerted the Voltran’s minds. Whether he’d have been able to prevent them being pulled away to the Urzox, he couldn’t begin to guess.

I need to fix this, Grisham said. I keep my promises. More – I swore to protect my own people as well, and I aim to do just that.

What is it you propose, Captain Jed Grisham?

Grisham had a good idea what he wanted to propose, but he didn’t know if it was achievable. With an effort, he calmed his inner turmoil and set about the task of persuading an artifact that was billions of years old into helping him.

THIRTEEN

If you used the power available within the Urzox, how would you be corrupted? Grisham began.

The corruption would be of my essence, spoke the Edran. Using life energy in this manner would be anathema to my creators and therefore to the Edran as well. In addition, a mass estimate of the Urzox indicates its biological materials do not contain sufficient energy to fully recharge the Oblasar’s Kalor drive.

Grisham wanted to know how significant that would be. Does that mean the Oblasar would be unable to defeat the Exetran with the limited power it would gain from the Urzox?

The Oblasar would become almost fully operational, even with the limited power, but I am unable to predict the outcome of combat. If the Oblasar were to be defeated, its null would fail and the Ax’Kol would board this vessel. I would be carried to the Gavax’Kol.

How long would it take the enemy to corrupt you?

I am unable to predict the outcome. Years. Perhaps centuries.

Is there another place at which your Kalor drive might be recharged? asked Grisham.

No, else I would have journeyed there before the degradation became too great.

Just thought I’d ask. Grisham pursed his lips in thought. Which leaves the energy contained within the Urzox as the only option.

I cannot permit the Oblasar to extract that energy.

If we change nothing, the Ax’Kol will recover the Edran, said Grisham.

Yes.

And then no species will be safe. The purpose for which you were made will have been twisted in a way that your creators would never have accepted.

Yes.

Talking hypothetically, over what kind of range does the extraction work? asked Grisham.

The range is short. The Urzox would need to be directly beneath the Oblasar.

Damn.

However, I could enable your return to the Urzox, so that you might pilot the vessel into the required position.

Grisham tried to hide his surprise. Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?

I cannot conceive of a situation in which I can both evade the Ax’Kol and avoid extracting the energy from the Urzox. The preferred outcome is therefore to extract the energy.

I’d planned to put a few Alturian shots into the Exetran before piloting the Urzox over to the Oblasar, said Grisham. Perhaps I can weaken the enemy vessel enough that it will be an easier opponent. Another bright idea jumped into his head. If we defeated the Exetran, could you then absorb the remaining energy you needed from its hull?

Yes, but the corruption of the Virdas will be rife within the vessel. Were I to extract the energy into the Oblasar, the consequences would not be predictable.

Let’s put that one on the back burner for the moment, said Grisham. What would happen to the four minds on the Urzox if you were to absorb the spaceship?

There are empty mind spheres on the Oblasar.

Would you welcome the Urzox’s minds?

Yes. If they would come.

That’s good, said Grisham.

His brain was already thinking about another issue. Once he returned to the Urzox, the vessel would not be under his control. He could send someone to deal with the Andos, but Grisham was doubtful that retaking the warship would be as easy as removing the artifact from its pedestal. Somehow, he’d have to convince the vessel’s consciousness that it should accept his authority. Or, came the thought, if he could break the protective barrier around the Urzox’s mind, perhaps he’d be able to call upon the four minds from the Voltran to help him.

How do I break down a telepathic wall? he asked the Edran. Can you do it for me?

I tested the barrier and it is within my power to destroy it. However, the distance is too great. Telepathy is infinite in some ways, and limited in others.

So I’d need to bring the Urzox adjacent to the Oblasar in order for you to break the wall, but I can’t do that because the warship won’t respond to my commands?

That is the problem.

It was another one for the back burner and Grisham put the issue aside in the hope that a solution would become apparent as he continued his conversation with the Edran.

In summary - if I were to regain control of the Urzox, we might together defeat the Exetran, but the Oblasar would still be outgunned by the combined Evoldor and Gavax’Kol, and perhaps even in a one-on-one? said Grisham.

Yes.

On the bright side, if you can get me back to the Urzox, I’ll order one of the soldiers to shatter the Andos. Then, if we can recharge the Oblasar’s Kalor drive, you’ll be able to enter lightspeed before the other members of the Triumvirate arrive and they’ll never be able to find you, said Grisham.

As he sent the thought, another part of his brain was furiously trying to come up with a way to make further use of the Oblasar, assuming the vessel was able to overcome the Exetran. He didn’t want the Edran to be captured, nor did he want the artifact disappearing forever while the Human Federation fell to the Ax’Kol. Defeating the Exetran would be a good beginning, but the human and Kijol fleets weren’t ready to face the Evoldor and the Gavax’Kol – singularly or both together.

Grisham’s thought processes were brought to a sudden halt by the next words from the Edran.

It may be too late for you to destroy the Andos. I have detected the arrival of Ax’Kol on the Urzox.

Grisham felt a chill of fear and then the anger came to wash it away. How many and where are they on the Urzox?

They started as a hundred and they projected themselves telepathically into your vessel. Without knowledge of your warship’s interior, their accuracy was low. Almost all are now merged with other materials. I sense them dying.

How many remain? Grisham pressed.

Three.

Can you make it so I can send a comm through the null?

Not without collapsing the null, and this I will not do – the backup power for the Oblasar does not generate enough energy to restart the null without an unacceptable delay.

It’s imperative the Ax’Kol don’t take the Andos, said Grisham. Once they have it, the Oblasar will always be vulnerable.

I would command this vessel into lightspeed and there it would stay until the Kalor drive became once more depleted.

That could take millions of years.

The passing of time does not affect me. The duration is unimportant.

Damnit, if you take off with the Oblasar, humanity doesn’t stand a chance.

Nevertheless, that is the situation. Would you like me to return you to the Urzox?

Grisham was caught off-guard by the question. I thought you were going to telepathically hide my shuttle while I piloted it back through the null.

There is another way. Would you like these others to come with you?

Yes. Grisham had a suspicion he knew what was about to happen.

Picture the place you wish to be. I would advise the destination to be free from obstacles. The greater the confines, the greater the chance your outcome will be unfavourable. You do not want an unfavourable outcome.

Grisham ended his link to the Edran, and spun around to see where the soldiers were standing. They hadn’t gone far, since there wasn’t anywhere to go.

“Quickly, move in,” snapped Grisham, beckoning urgently. “As close to me as you can!”

“You heard the Captain!” roared Maxwell, even though the soldiers were already in gear.

In moments, every member of the squad was together near the pedestal, with Grisham somewhere in the centre. He pictured the room within the Urzox that was closest to where he’d left the Andos. Unfortunately, close in this instance, wasn’t as near as he would have liked.

Send us here, thought Grisham, ignoring the questions of the soldiers.

The artifact didn’t speak again. Without any transition, any pain, or any other debilitating effects, Grisham found himself in in the room he’d imagined in his head. The soldiers were still clustered around him and blocking his view.

“Move,” said Grisham, pushing with his arms to gain some space. He and the soldiers were in a twelve-metre room with a high ceiling and a two-metre metallic cube protruding through the floor over by one wall. Four exits led away.

“The Edran has transported us back to the Urzox,” Grisham continued. “There are three Ax’Kol commanders somewhere inside and they’re going to make a beeline for the Andos. We have to stop them and we have to destroy the artifact.”

“I sent Corporal Fine and Private Diaz to the pedestal room,” said Maxwell, turning his head to get his bearings. He pointed towards an exit in the aft wall. “That way.”

Before Grisham had a chance to say anything further, a link was made to his suit comms.

“Captain, you’re back,” said Lieutenant Lopez. She sounded stressed. “The Exetran is here and the Urzox won’t respond to our instructions.”

“I know – we’ve been screwed over by the Andos,” said Grisham. “There’s no time to explain, but be aware there are three Ax’Kol commanders on board. I need you all to stay on the bridge, but if it’s any consolation, the enemy’s primary target is almost certainly the Andos.”

“Yes, sir, we’ll stay put,” said Lopez.

Grisham cut the channel. Sergeant Maxwell was pacing nearby, talking on the comms.

“Sergeant, order Corporal Fine and Private Diaz to destroy the Andos,” said Grisham.

Maxwell looked up. “It’s too late, sir. Corporal Fine reports that one of those Ax’Kol commanders appeared in the pedestal room right in front of her. She and Diaz shot it a few times, but the enemy took the Andos and then disappeared.”

“Are Corporal Fine and Private Diaz injured?” asked Grisham.

“No, sir. The creature didn’t even look at them.”

“We’ve lost the Andos,” said Grisham.

Everything was happening so quickly. He tried to extend his mind outwards to encompass the entirety of the Urzox, in the hope of locating the Ax’Kol commanders. Perhaps the one which had taken the Andos was still on the warship. However, only two of the aliens were left on the warship and one was close. Very close.

Grisham wheeled around towards the forward exit from the room. “Sergeant, one of those commanders is just along that corridor.”

As he said the words, he saw frantic, shuffling movement at the intersection about fifty metres away. It was the Ax’Kol commander and it was so constrained by the walls of the passage that it was forced to crawl. The creature raised its head and a wide, vicious smile appeared.

“Private Lowe, Private Vaughan, give that bastard something to really smile about,” said Maxwell.

Private Vaughan dashed towards the middle of the room, so that he’d have visibility down the corridor. As he ran, the soldier shrugged out of the straps holding his XR repeater and then he placed the weapon on the ground. Meanwhile, Private Lowe rolled his launcher up onto his shoulder, aimed and fired.

“Rocket out,” he said. “This one’s going to be hot.”

The missile sped into the passage and detonated on the floor less than a metre in front of the Ax’Kol commander. Grisham averted his eyes and held them tightly shut for a moment. The booming rumble of the explosion filled the room with a force of pressurised, blisteringly hot air.

As soon as the light faded, Grisham opened his eyes again and there was the Ax’Kol commander, still coming on with shuddering, muscular lurches, its dark flesh burning furiously.

“Have some of this,” growled Vaughan.

The repeater sent a pulverising torrent of slugs into the head of the Ax’Kol commander, and, through the flames, Grisham could see chunks of flesh being torn free. He’d seen enough of these aliens to know how much punishment they could withstand.

Ignoring the heat alarm on his HUD and the dark smoke rising from the material of his combat suit, Grisham raised his gauss rifle to his shoulder, and fired as quickly as the weapon would allow. A detached part of his mind wished his gun was loaded with explosive slugs. The Human Federation military had been working on them for years, but they weren’t yet widely available. Against the Ax’Kol, they’d be immense.

“Grenade out,” said Diaz.

Standing at the corner of the passage, she armed the explosive and threw it quickly around the corner. With the first one still in flight, Diaz tore a second grenade from its clip and armed that one too. A low whumping blast from the first detonation didn’t even make the Ax’Kol commander flinch and on it came, like it would never die.

The other soldiers began throwing grenades, making sure they didn’t venture into the stream of bullets pouring from Vaughan’s repeater. Blast after blast went off in the passage, and XR slugs continued ripping into the enemy creature.

Back on Hevos, these commanders had teleported themselves onto the shuttle Grisham and the soldiers were using to escape the ruined city there. Before each of those jumps, there’d been a telepathic surge from the aliens, and he was watching for the same thing here.

The surge came.

“Scatter!” yelled Grisham.

Before the soldiers could respond in any meaningful way, the Ax’Kol commander teleported into the room, barely two metres in front of where Vaughan was lying prone. The creature was a ragged mess of torn flesh and flames. Smoke billowed from it in a stinking cloud that almost made Grisham gag with the stench. He backed away quickly, still facing the enemy and still firing his gun.

In this room, the ceiling was higher than the one in the passage, but not enough that the alien was able to stand to its full five-metre height. It rose and what remained of its head thudded against the ceiling. At the creature’s feet, Vaughan had rolled away and was scrambling to his feet while trying to drag his repeater along with him.

“Die, you asshole,” said Lyles, shooting from the far corner of the room.

The Ax’Kol commander was clearly on the brink of destruction, but it wasn’t down yet. It unfurled one arm, and swung it aimlessly in a sideways arc that didn’t hit anyone. The talons on the creature’s hands were blackened, but they looked as deadly as ever.

Then, the Ax’Kol turned slightly as if it were only just noticing the fleeing Private Vaughan. To Grisham’s horror, the grin returned to the alien’s face and he could see that all of its teeth had been smashed into jagged shards. He knew what was coming and there was no way Vaughan would escape the coming blow.

Acting on instinct, Grisham struck out with his mind, directing a thumping pulse of telepathic energy into the Ax’Kol commander. The alien stumbled sideways, Vaughan instantly forgotten. Although it was nearly dead, the creature sent tendrils of its own mind towards Grisham, only for those tendrils to be deflected.

The Edran. It’s still shielding me.

Grisham attacked again, with a greater force than before. The Ax’Kol commander hadn’t righted itself from the first psionic blast and this time it fell over sideways and brought its hands up to its head in a way that he’d seen before on the Voltran.

At no point did the soldiers stop firing and, having been granted this opportunity, Vaughan turned and unleashed his repeater from a standing position. The Ax’Kol didn’t attempt another attack – it just lay there for a few seconds with the palms of its hands tightly squeezing its half-missing head, and then it fell still.

“Got the bastard,” said Private Diaz with enormous satisfaction.

Grisham hadn’t noticed the soldier’s return from the pedestal room, but there she was, and Corporal Fine was with her. He met Fine’s eye and gave her a nod. To his surprise, she winked back.

With the Ax’Kol commander down, Grisham took stock. The Andos was gone, and there was nothing he could do to change the fact. One more enemy remained on the Urzox – it was a long way aft, but given its ability to teleport, that wasn’t too much of a reassurance. The best hope was that the creature was slowed so much by the confines of the interior that it got frustrated and ended up teleporting itself into a solid object.

Perhaps more would come, but Grisham had a feeling the Virdas wouldn’t be too concerned about a few humans on a warship that was under the artifact’s control.

Other than that, everyone was alive, though the problem remained of how to recapture the Urzox. That was just the first obstacle and Grisham knew that even if he managed to wrest back his warship, he would have the not-so-small matter of the Exetran to deal with.

All things considered, it was a bad situation, but it was much better than being dead.

FOURTEEN

Grisham got on the comms. “Lieutenant Lopez, we’ve lost the Andos. Now that the artifact is gone from the Urzox, are we back in control?” As he talked, he executed a rapid change of magazine. Dropping the old one to the floor, he side-footed it against the nearest wall.

“Negative, Captain,” said Lopez. “The warship is still not responding.”

“Damnit, keep trying.”

“Are you returning to the bridge, sir?”

“Soon.”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s one Ax’Kol commander left onboard. It’ll be a threat until it’s gone, so be aware,” said Grisham. He cut the channel.

“How are you planning to recapture the Urzox, Captain?” asked Maxwell, who’d been waiting for Grisham to finish on the comms.

“I didn’t have a chance to plan that far ahead,” said Grisham. “We kind of had to return here straightaway.”

“A damn shame about the Andos.”

Grisham nodded. “It would have been nice to see it in pieces on the floor.”

“Captain,” said Corporal Fine, coming over to stand next to Maxwell. “I don’t know if this is important, but I guess the telling won’t do any harm.”

“What is it, Corporal?”

“When the Ax’Kol commander jumped into the pedestal room, it was right up against one of the walls, only about three metres from where Private Diaz and I were standing. In order to reach the Andos, the enemy had to pass right in front of that glass sphere. We were shooting it by now, and I noticed that it put itself in the way of our bullets – like it was scared in case one of them hit the sphere.”

Grisham smiled. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Corporal.”

“Are we going to break the sphere, sir?” asked Fine.

“One moment – I need to think.”

On many occasions, Grisham and his crew had discussed how the Ax’Kol implanted the minds into the warships they created. Nobody had come up with a satisfactory explanation, though the guesses were varied.

Grisham had favoured the idea that a mind simply existed within its given spaceship, in the same way that a human consciousness lived within its body, with the physical and spiritual being tied inextricably together.

Lieutenant Adler, on the other hand, was convinced there must be a receptacle into which a warship’s mind was placed.

It was beginning to look as if Adler was right, though that left Grisham with something of a conundrum - if he shattered the sphere in the pedestal room, perhaps killing the Urzox’s mind in the process, there was a risk that the four minds from the Voltran would also die.

But why are those four minds being treated as satellites? Grisham asked himself.

The only explanation he could come up with was that the Urzox’s original consciousness was so powerful that it effectively filled its receptacle, such that it was forced to place the minds from the Voltran into other spheres within the Urzox – spheres which hadn’t yet been discovered. Grisham had often wondered how many minds a single warship could hold, and he was now sure the capacity was limited by the size or quantity of these mind spheres.

However, a guess that sounded great was still a guess.

“Let’s go break that sphere,” said Grisham.

“What’s that going to do, sir?” asked Maxwell.

“If I’m right, it’s going to kill the Urzox like a bullet to the head.” Grisham raised a hand to forestall the next question. “Luckily this warship has four other heads, and those ones are on our side.”

“Then let’s do it,” said Maxwell.

“Though this exit, Captain,” said Fine, pointing aft.

Grisham remembered the way and he set off, with Maxwell and the soldiers hurrying after. Nobody had died to the Ax’Kol commander, but it could have been so much different had Grisham’s subconscious not unleashed those telepathic attacks on the enemy. He smiled inwardly at the memory, though he wondered how much he’d have suffered had the Edran not been shielding him from a return attack.

The pedestal room was 150 metres from the squad’s teleported arrival place and it didn’t take long to reach the turning, what with Grisham running flat out the whole way. He stopped at the entrance to the passage which led to the sphere room and crouched. From this position, he could see more than half of the mind sphere.

Raising his gauss rifle, Grisham pulled the stock into his shoulder and breathed in the metallic scent of the gauss coils. He took aim but didn’t fire.

“Sergeant, as soon as you hear this gun go off, I want you to close that door.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maxwell. “Are you expecting fireworks?”

“Just being cautious, Sergeant.”

Maxwell nodded. He waved the soldiers back and placed himself next to the activation switch for the door.

It suddenly occurred to Grisham that the squad didn’t even need to be here, since it only took one person to pull the trigger. Nor did that person have to be the captain of the ship, but having come so far, Grisham was determined he’d be the one firing the bullet.

Grisham didn’t ask the soldiers to move away – there surely wasn’t time for any more delays. He pulled the trigger.

The gun produced its low fizzing sound and ejected a projectile. Nothing visibly happened with the sphere. Maxwell closed the door and Grisham cursed.

“The sphere didn’t break,” said Grisham. “Open the door again and hold for my order to close it again.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the door was open, Grisham fired three more times. Still the sphere didn’t shatter.

“Might need something with a bit more grunt,” he said.

“You want grunt? I got it,” said Lowe.

“Let’s try Private Vaughan’s repeater first,” said Grisham, beckoning the soldier over.

In a few seconds, Vaughan was set up. Upon Grisham’s command, he fired his repeater continuously for several seconds. In an explosion of shards, the mind sphere shattered and the pieces of it tumbled to the floor.

“Done,” said Vaughan, jumping straight back to his feet.

Grisham nodded his thanks, but his mind was already feeling out for the consciousness on the Urzox. His heart jumped when he realised the barrier was gone and he pushed on, searching for the minds he knew from the Voltran.

He found one and entered the grey. The spirits there knew Grisham and the familiar vortex formed. Since he didn’t know the situation with the Exetran, he didn’t give any instruction. Instead, Grisham withdrew and began running for the bridge.

“I’d appreciate an escort, Sergeant,” he called out. “In case I run into that Ax’Kol commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

The sprint to the bridge was a long one, but Grisham used the time to speak with Lieutenant Lopez. She confirmed that the Urzox was now responding to commands.

“Where’s the Exetran, Lieutenant?” Grisham asked.

“It’s approximately ten thousand klicks off our portside, Captain, while the Urzox is twenty thousand klicks outside the null zone.”

“Is there any sign the enemy know what’s happened here?”

“Not yet, Captain.”

“At the first sign of trouble, open fire.”

“Commander Deneuve acknowledges the order, sir. If the enemy warship maintains its position, are we waiting for you to return?”

“Yes,” said Grisham. He trusted his crew well enough, but they hadn’t been on the Oblasar and they hadn’t spoken to the artifact. On that basis, Grisham wanted to be at the helm when combat started.

He cut the channel and continued his run towards the bridge. Grisham found he could now link to the Urzox’s onboard systems, but he refrained in case the distraction slowed him down.

A smile came to his face at the realisation that the warship now well and truly belonged to him and his crew. The oppressiveness, which had always been there in the background, but so subtly that Grisham had never been able to fully identify it, was now gone. He could only hope that the four minds brought over from the Voltran were up to the task ahead of them.

During the run, Grisham had been keeping a telepathic watch over the final Ax’Kol commander. The creature was on its way forward, though not with any great speed. Doubtless it was being held up in the tight passages within the warship.

When Grisham was close to the bridge, he detected the creature move a hundred metres in the blinking of an eye. He guessed it had jumped from a passage into a room. If that was how the alien intended traversing the Urzox, it was in for a slow trip, since the interior corridors were not made up from straight lines and not all of the rooms were large.

Even so, the problem remained, and Grisham was reluctant to send Maxwell and the soldiers to resolve it, since they clearly lacked the firepower to destroy the commander easily. It was tempting to hit the alien with a couple of telepathic attacks – just for the hell of it – but Grisham held back. The Exetran had so far left the Urzox more or less alone, and he didn’t want to draw the attention of the Virdas artifact - at least not until the Urzox had put a couple of psionically accelerated Alturian shots into the flank of its vessel.

When he arrived on the bridge, Grisham was breathing hard, but he felt the excitement which usually came before a battle.

“Welcome back, Captain,” said Deneuve. “It feels good to be in control again.”

“Give me a status report,” said Grisham, heading to his seat.

“The Exetran hasn’t moved, sir,” said Lopez.

“It’s waiting for the Evoldor and the Gavax’Kol,” said Grisham. “The Andos was corrupted on Hevos and now it’s one of the bad guys. With it being on the same side as the Gavax’Kol, the four artifacts together will be able to corrupt the Edran. If that happens, the bad news goes a lot further than the Human Federation.”

Talking rapidly, Grisham filled in his crew on the information they were lacking. As he spoke, he watched the sensor feeds for any indication the Exetran was preparing an attack. Once again, the Virdas was showing its overconfidence. It believed the Urzox was out of action and had therefore held back from destroying the warship. Perhaps the Ax’Kol had bigger plans for this vessel. Grisham hoped so, since it would keep the enemy off his back until he was ready to initiate combat.

“So we’re going to launch a surprise attack on the Exetran, then fly into the null so the Oblasar can extract the energy it needs from the Urzox?” said Deneuve.

“That’s it in a nutshell, Commander.”

“What happens to us in this scenario, sir?” asked Deneuve. “And are you expecting the Exetran to sit back and watch while the Urzox is absorbed into the Oblasar?”

“I’m expecting nothing,” said Grisham. “This won’t be easy, but we’re going to have to make it work. While the Urzox is being extracted, we’ll have to make a run for one of the shuttles and fly it across to the Oblasar.”

“As far as plans go, this one is holed below the waterline, sir,” said Adler.

“It’s all in the execution, Lieutenant.”

Adler laughed. “The execution has served us well enough so far.”

“I need a few moments, folks,” said Grisham. “Destroying the sphere has freed up the other four minds on this warship, but I have to make sure they learned what we needed them to learn during their time behind the barrier.”

Despite the progress so far, Grisham knew he was still beset by problems. The Urzox was facing the might of the Exetran, and the Oblasar was without power. Above them all loomed the greatest problem of all – if Grisham allowed the Urzox to be absorbed into the Oblasar, he’d be without a warship. If the Edran took off into lightspeed and refused to fight, then all of this would have been for nothing.

Grisham cursed inwardly. This was an occasion where the one step at a time approach wouldn’t work. A grand vision was needed, so that he could work towards pulling everything together.

He gritted his teeth and wondered if his life would ever be easy.

FIFTEEN

“I’m going to check on the status of our four minds,” said Grisham.

His earlier foray into the grey had been brief. This time, he intended to stay until he’d found out everything he needed. He detected the four minds easily enough and, when he focused, Grisham identified points of origin for each. On the Voltran, he’d never detected a centre, but maybe now that he knew about the spheres, it allowed him to see where the minds were positioned.

To his surprise, Grisham discovered that, while the consciousnesses remained separate, they were all linked by what he perceived as solid lines of grey. He wondered if these were physical conduits running through the Urzox, or something more ephemeral. The answers could wait.

Choosing one of the minds at random, Grisham went through the grey. He felt comforted amongst the souls and, when he searched, he could sense the links which led away to the other minds. Whatever was communicated here, would be heard by all the others.

Using his thoughts, Grisham asked questions and listened to the responses. Although time always passed differently in here, he nevertheless felt the urgency and he pressed for answers.

To his surprise, he discovered that the four minds were actively deceiving the Exetran into thinking the Urzox’s original mind was still in control. Grisham was both impressed and grateful at the same time. This behaviour of the minds explained why the enemy vessel hadn’t launched a pre-emptive strike.

Soon, Grisham knew enough. He also found the hungering for revenge among the spirits was as strong as ever. They had been furious to be chained once more – this time to the Urzox - but that anger was now simmering in a way which Grisham felt sure was more dangerous than ever. He sensed that the power of the dead was greater than he had ever suspected, and he wondered how much of it remained to be unlocked.

Grisham’s last task was to inform the warship’s minds that they might soon be required to inhabit yet another vessel. The response was as confused as he expected and it pained him. Then, he withdrew from the grey.

“Well?” asked Deneuve.

“We’re ready,” said Grisham. “Every ability the original mind once possessed is now known to the other minds.”

“Did you tell them their warship may well be sucked into the Oblasar?”

“Yes – I told them they are welcome there.”

“Will they go?”

“I don’t know,” Grisham admitted. “They want revenge. If they believe the Oblasar will enter lightspeed for what may well end up as millions of years, the minds on the Urzox might refuse to go.”

“Then they’ll die here on this spaceship?” said Lopez.

Grisham nodded. “Then they’ll die.”

“I can hardly comprehend it,” said Bishop. “Men, women, children, murdered by the Ax’Kol and their essences forced into a sphere. And then to be confronted with the knowledge that they might spend an eternity at lightspeed.”

“I know,” said Grisham.

He felt a lump come to his throat. The final deaths of those spirits was a hard thing for him to contemplate, but he had to do whatever he could to protect humanity from the Ax’Kol. All the life essences in the mind spheres had been murdered long ago. At some point, they had to rest – even if that meant they didn’t witness the final destruction of the Ax’Kol.

“I’m going to stick my neck out and say we need to stop being so accommodating,” said Lieutenant Adler. His jaw was set in the way it always was when he had something important to say. “Captain, you haven’t yet addressed what happens if the Edran doesn’t play ball when – if – we defeat the Exetran. We can’t have the Oblasar hightailing it into the depths and leaving us without a warship capable of facing the Ax’Kol. And what if we’re brought along for the ride? I don’t want to grow old and die on the Oblasar – I want to go home and see my family.”

“You know the Andos was messing with your head, sir,” said Deneuve. “Could the Edran be doing the same thing?”

Grisham opened his mouth to deny the possibility, but quickly closed it again. This double-pronged attack from his crew showed just how sure they were that he was once again being influenced by the alien artifacts.

“Because if your primary aim is to save humanity, then none of what we’re discussing is guaranteed to achieve that goal,” Deneuve continued. “Unless the Edran – a billion-year-old artifact – has decided that now, after all these centuries, it’s finally time to confront the Gavax’Kol.”

“If you ask me, there’s only one answer, Captain,” said Adler. He mimed a two-handed overhand motion intended to suggest striking a solid object with a big hammer.

“I’m out of my depth,” said Grisham. “And I need to fix that.”

He nodded to himself as he said the words. The Edran had certainly come across in a reasonable manner, but there again, so had the Andos. Grisham’s anger at how the latter had fooled him was still raw and stinging, but it now seemed more than possible that his thoughts were once again being influenced, and that the subtlety of it was such that he couldn’t detect anything. After all, the Edran claimed to be the pure one of the five. Perhaps it was better at concealing its meddling.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Grisham hunted within himself for the feeling of wrongness which had plagued him while he was effectively under the control of the Andos. He found nothing, but now the idea was planted, he found himself completely on edge. When he forced himself to consider everything logically, he could think of no reason whatsoever to prevent him from smashing the Edran into pieces, and yet whenever he imagined doing just that, he felt an uneasiness that made him believe it would be the wrong thing to do.

The Edran is playing with my instincts, and it’s making itself out as one of the good guys, knowing I’ll be on the same side.

For the first time, Grisham started thinking that maybe his telepathy was more a curse than a blessing. He clenched his teeth until the muscles in his jaw bulged, and he inhaled steadily through his nostrils. The power had saved him before, but now it was making him vulnerable.

I’m stuck with it, so I’ll have to make the best of what I have.

Grisham felt his old friend anger return, but this time it was a cold, calculating anger. He let it simmer while his brain thought hard about what he could do to put all this crap behind him. As often happened in the face of adversity, Grisham trawled up a plan. While he turned it over in his head, he watched the Exetran on the feeds. The enemy vessel remained motionless and Grisham could only imagine the number of planetary skies in which that spaceship had loomed like a god of death, while Ax’Kol troops rampaged across the world below.

“Here’s the new plan,” said Grisham. “Hopefully this one has some of the flaws ironed out.”

He described his intentions. Once he’d finished speaking, a short silence followed.

“Well, at least this plan puts the Human Federation first and foremost,” said Lieutenant Adler.

“And who knows – we might even beat the Exetran before we have to put the later elements of the plan into action,” said Bishop.

“We need the Oblasar,” said Grisham. “I can’t imagine the Urzox will have any chance against the Gavax’Kol.”

Deneuve was watching carefully. “Are you sure about this, sir?”

“Can you see any fault in the logic, Commander?”

“No, Captain. Not like I could before.”

Grisham returned her gaze. “If I thought it was time to relinquish command, I’d do so.”

“If I thought it was time to insist, I’d do so as well, Captain,” said Deneuve.

“So how long is the extraction of the Urzox going to take?” asked Bishop.

“I don’t know any more than you do about the method, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “I should have asked when I was on the Oblasar, but I didn’t - the situation became pressing and I had to leave.”

“You could try asking the Edran now, sir,” said Deneuve.

“I already thought about doing so, Commander,” said Grisham. “But I don’t want to open a mental link to the artifact again, in case it—” He tapped the side of his head and smiled thinly. “You understand.”

“Yes, Captain.” Deneuve returned the same humourless smile. “I guess you’d like to see the back of mind influencing artifacts.”

“Damn right.”

“I’ve spoken to Sergeant Maxwell, Captain,” said Lopez. “He’s heading to one of the shuttles – he’ll be ready to launch in less than ten minutes.”

“Tell him we’ll meet him there,” said Grisham. He stood from his seat and turned so that he was facing his crew. “It’s time to abandon ship, folks.”

“I can’t say I’m going to be sorry to see the back of this one,” said Lieutenant Adler, coming to his feet.

“I don’t think any of us ever had much fondness for it,” Grisham agreed. “And I like it less with each passing moment.”

He headed for the exit, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body. A hard task lay ahead and Grisham hoped he was up to the job.

When he left the bridge, Grisham sprinted for the shuttle bay, with his crew following closely. He’d lost warships before, but always with regret. When it came to the Urzox, Grisham didn’t feel much of anything. The vessel had been created from sacrifice and for a worthy cause. And yet, it was tainted, like everything that came into contact with the Ax’Kol.

After ten minutes of running, Grisham entered the bay where one of the Urzox’s original shuttles was docked. The all-alloy transport nearby was fifty metres of unnecessary curves and sweeping lines, and its single visible side-mounted repeater was the only indication that it wasn’t a leisure model.

Corporal Fine was the lone figure on the docking platform, standing just outside the shuttle’s flank door. She raised a hand in greeting.

“Everyone’s onboard, Captain,” she said.

Grisham nodded in acknowledgement and hurried past Fine into the green-lit airlock. The airlock space was tight and the far exit was open. With the bay being pressurized, Grisham could hear the rumbling note of the shuttle’s propulsion, and he noticed an unevenness to the sound that didn’t give him much confidence in the underlying technology.

A short passage led to the passenger bay, in which the soldiers were all standing. The collective mood was noticeably apprehensive. Even though none of them knew exactly what was happening, they had a knack when it came to sensing danger.

“Captain,” said Corporal Barkley in greeting. He wouldn’t be in the cockpit this time. “Sergeant Maxwell and Private Logan are upstairs.”

“Thank you,” said Grisham. “A couple of my crew are going to stay here and fill you in.” He headed towards the narrow stairs which led through the forward bulkhead and up to the cockpit. “I’ll see you all on the Oblasar.”

Grisham climbed rapidly, with the chosen members of his crew heading after. The shuttle’s cockpit was depressingly primitive and the constraints of the mission so far had prevented anyone from giving the alien transports a test run. Although Grisham was confident in Commander Deneuve’s ability to pilot the shuttle, she was lacking the vitally important details regarding acceleration and deceleration.

“We’re ready to launch, Captain,” said Maxwell. He was standing near the starboard wall, where he’d be out of the way. Private Logan was there as well, his med-box down by his feet.

Turning towards his crew, Grisham gestured towards the seats at the front of the cockpit. Commander Deneuve took the middle one of the three, Lieutenant Lopez sat left and Grisham took the final seat on the right.

Private Logan approached, with a needle in his hand. A tube went from the end of the needle and into the med-box. “Are you ready for this, sir?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Logan came right up close and pushed the needle carefully through the port in Grisham’s suit helmet.

“That’s far enough,” said Grisham, when he felt sharpness pricking his skin.

“Yes, sir,” said Logan, pulling the needle out a fraction so that it would no longer be digging in. “If we need to sedate you for whatever reason, we can do it quickly.”

Grisham nodded carefully in acknowledgement and was pleased when the end of the needle didn’t scratch his skin. He fervently hoped he wouldn’t require sedating again, but it was best to be prepared.

“I’ve patched this shuttle into the Urzox’s sensor feeds, Captain,” said Lopez.

“Waiting on your launch command, sir,” said Deneuve. “I wish I could help you out with the weapons.”

Although the shuttle could now link to the Urzox’s onboard systems, the hardware in the cockpit wasn’t nearly sophisticated enough to allow for efficient use of the weapons. Therefore, Grisham would have to handle more or less everything using his mind link.

“If you keep an eye on the reload, that would be appreciated, Commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

Taking a deep breath, Grisham interfaced with the Urzox. Now that the warship’s original mind was gone, he was able to link without a problem. At once, he had access to the onboard systems.

Having called up the feeds, it took Grisham only a few seconds to orient himself with the positions of the Exetran and the Oblasar. Lieutenant Lopez had another three feeds up on the cockpit console, and Grisham kept his eyes on them as well.

Then, he ran through his plan quickly in his head. Finding himself as satisfied as he could be, given the circumstances, Grisham readied himself what was going to be a risky and dangerous attack. His opponents were powerful and worst of all, they were both inside his head and outside.

The anger rose again at the intrusion in his brain, and Grisham clenched his fists. It was time to go.

SIXTEEN

“Targeting forward and aft Alturian guns,” said Grisham.

On the feeds, he watched the two immense turrets rotating.

“Come on,” he muttered. The Virdas artifact surely wouldn’t take long to notice the targeting of the guns, but Grisham wanted to unleash as much firepower as possible in one go, hence the reason for him holding the other attacks.

At this moment, of all moments, the Edran chose to communicate.

What are your intentions, Captain Jed Grisham?

There’s no deviation in the plan, said Grisham. Although there was nuance in mind-to-mind communication, he wasn’t good at understanding it. If the Edran suspected something was amiss, there was a good chance that everything would fall apart. Grisham didn’t know how much of his thoughts the artifact could read and he tried to keep them buried deep.

That is good. Once the extraction begins, I will open one of the shuttle bay doors on the Oblasar, so that you may enter.

Yes, Grisham replied, though he was now doubtful if the bay door would ever be opened. However I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me to concentrate.

Grisham forcibly severed the link and refocused on the task in hand. The Alturian guns were now on target, so there was no reason to delay a moment longer.

“Urzox Mind 4, designated as weapons accelerator. Portside Hazik missiles 1 and 2: fired,” said Grisham. “Alturian turrets forward and aft: fired. Urzox Mind 1, psionic: suppress on enemy vessel. Mind 2, psionic: suppress on enemy vessel. Mind 3: psionic: suppress on enemy vessel. Topside Hazik missiles 1 and 2: fired.”

Even as the words left his mouth, Grisham bore witness to the results. The Alturian gun barrels recoiled into their turrets and a split-second later, a huge, elongated indentation appeared in Exetran’s flank, and the dark material of the vessel’s hull visibly rippled from the impact force of the four massive, psionically accelerated slugs.

In the blinking of an eye afterwards, the forward Hazik missiles detonated a couple of thousand metres behind the Exetran’s blunt nose section. Two vast explosions tore into the Ax’Kol spaceship. Straight after that came the blasts from the topside two Hazik missiles, these ones striking the enemy vessel on its midsection near to where the Alturian slugs had impacted.

“Let’s get into that null,” said Grisham.

He commanded the Urzox to accelerate directly to starboard. The walls of the shuttle and the sound of its own engines weren’t quite enough to hide the far greater volume of the warship’s propulsion. Through the interface, Grisham observed the psionic output from all four of the vessel’s minds as they poured their strength into the engines. The Urzox accelerated strongly towards the Oblasar.

“Twenty-two seconds left on the Alturian reload,” said Commander Deneuve. “Eighteen seconds on the portside Hazik tubes.”

“The Exetran is on the move, Captain,” said Lopez. “The enemy ship has launched missiles.”

“We caught the Virdas napping,” said Deneuve. “Now comes the onslaught.”

“Psionic: slow on inbound missiles,” said Grisham.

“Slow defence successful,” said Lopez. “The enemy warship has launched another salvo,”

“We don’t have any hull repeaters to take out the slowed warheads, Captain,” said Deneuve.

Grisham remembered the shatter defence that he and Deneuve had spoken about during the brief weapons trial they’d conducted several weeks ago. He had no better an idea what the shatter would do now than he had back then.

Since he didn’t know how to active this defence mechanism, Grisham intended sticking with the tried-and-tested psionic: slow. However, once the enemy missiles escaped the slow field, or that field collapsed, those weapons would head straight back on target, so Grisham knew he was potentially only storing up pain for the future.

With plenty of everything else to worry about as well, he braced for the Ax’Kol spaceship’s use of psionics. The first suppress attack came and, to his disbelief, it didn’t shut down even one of the Urzox’s four minds. Back on Hevos, the Exetran had knocked all four offline in a single attack, and this time it hadn’t been nearly so successful.

Maybe the Urzox’s original consciousness knew some defences that the minds from the Voltran learned from it, thought Grisham. Or maybe those minds are just so royally pissed they aren’t going to let anything knock them out of the fight.

“Psionic: slow on inbound missiles,” said Grisham. “Mind 1, psionic: suppress on enemy vessel. Mind 2, psionic: suppress on enemy vessel. Mind 3, psionic: suppress on enemy vessel.”

“Eight seconds on the forward Hazik tubes, eleven on the topsides and twelve on the Alturian turrets,” said Deneuve.

“The enemy is launching staggered missile waves, Captain,” said Lopez. “There are forty-eight in each salvo.”

Grisham was watching the Exetran carefully. Its acceleration was impressive and it was banking in a tight turn in order to bring its loaded missile clusters onto target. There was an element of randomness in the enemy warship’s course – the Virdas had suffered some resounding strikes and it was clearly hoping to avoid any more.

“I’m not sure the Alturian turrets can retarget quickly enough,” said Grisham. “I’ll have to aim by re-orienting the Urzox.”

On top of everything else, it was a hassle he didn’t need. The Exetran was spilling countless missiles from its clusters and Grisham was having a hard time trapping them with psionic: slows. He didn’t know when the enemy vessel’s first salvoes would resume their full velocity, but he doubted it would be long.

A second suppression attack struck the Urzox and this time, one of the warship’s minds went briefly into dormancy before it recovered into a weakened state. A third attack followed straight after and then a fourth. Each new suppression struck a different mind and Grisham didn’t know if this was intentional on the part of the Virdas, or if he was witnessing a defensive tactic learned by his own warship. A fifth psionic suppression sent Mind 1 into dormancy and this time it didn’t recover straightaway.

By now, the Urzox was deep in the null zone, and that at least would keep the Exetran at a distance and allow Grisham some extra moments to react. He struck the enemy vessel with another three psionic: suppress attacks of his own, but saw no visible signs that his opponent was weakening.

Deneuve announced that both the Hazik tubes and the Alturian guns were reloaded. With the enemy vessel banking left and right, and with him having so many other things to deal with at once, Grisham didn’t think himself capable of accurately targeting and firing the cannons.

The missiles were a different matter, but he was wary that the Virdas wouldn’t be caught out so easily again.

“Portside Hazik tube 1: fired,” said Grisham.

He followed up with a couple of psionic: suppress attacks, but it was apparent that the Urzox’s minds were fast running out of steam.

“We’re coming up on the Oblasar, Captain,” said Lopez.

“I’m going to use it for cover like I told you all earlier,” said Grisham. “If we can stay out of the Exetran’s sight for a time, maybe the Urzox’s minds will recover some of their strength.”

“That last Hazik missile was caught in a psionic: slow, Captain,” said Lopez.

“Damnit!” said Grisham

He was tempted to fire the remaining facing Hazik missiles, to find out if the Virdas could handle landing psionic: slows on three separate warheads approaching at forty thousand kilometres per second. The Oblasar was less than five thousand kilometres away and, with cover approaching, Grisham took a gamble on the missiles.

“Portside Hazik tube 2: fired. Topside Hazik tube 1: fired. Topside Hazik tube 2: fired,” said Grisham. For good measure, he ordered the Urzox to generate three psionic: suppression attacks against the Exetran at the same time. Perhaps the combination would slow down the enemy response.

Whether because of his tactics, or simply because of the outright velocity of the Hazik missiles, one of the warheads struck the Exetran on its nose. The blast was huge, but the enemy vessel raced on, with a section of its forward hull ablaze.

For a split-second, the Exetran was in the sights of the Alturian guns, but at that exact moment, Grisham was attempting to trap a wave of inbound missiles in a psionic: slow field, causing him to miss his chance.

“The first-launched wave of enemy missiles just broke out of their slow field,” said Lopez. “They’re heading our way.”

To Grisham’s intense irritation, yet another wave of missiles was coming straight after the one he’d just trapped in a slow field. He did his best to command the Urzox to generate another psionic: slow, but he wasn’t quick enough. Meanwhile, another wave of missiles trapped at the beginning of the engagement also broke out of slow. Although the Urzox was now directly beneath the Oblasar, Grisham wasn’t going to be able to pilot his warship out of sight in time.

Without any input, the shatter defence activated. A pulse of energy swept through the shuttle and, at the same moment, Grisham felt the Urzox’s engines stutter as if they’d had to cope with a massive draw on their output. For a moment, he didn’t know what effect the shatter had produced – not until the nearest forty-eight Death missiles smashed into the hull of the Urzox without detonating.

“Those missiles were shut down,” said Lopez. “The guidance systems on the others have failed – they’re no longer tracking us.”

“What’s the range on the shatter?” asked Grisham.

“At least forty thousand klicks, sir. I need more data to give you an accurate response.”

“A new timer appeared on the weapons panel, Captain,” said Deneuve. “The shatter has a thirty-second recharge.”

“Thirty seconds,” Grisham repeated. “That’s too slow.”

Regardless of the fact that the shatter wasn’t a rapid-discharge defence, it had bought Grisham and the Urzox enough time to gain cover behind the Oblasar. He guided his warship beneath the alien vessel, decelerating hard as he did so.

In the brief moments during which he had a view of the alien vessel’s underside plating – before the Urzox emerged from the other side - Grisham saw a three-by-three arrangement of low domes across the Oblasar’s midsection. He’d seen domes like these before on the planet where the Urzox had been constructed, and he was sure they were the mechanism by which the extraction would occur. As the Urzox travelled beneath the domes, he felt the deepest of vibrations coming from all around.

“That was the beginnings of the extraction,” said Grisham, piloting the Urzox into a position adjacent to the starboard flank of the Oblasar. The vibration had stopped now.

Hardly had Grisham brought his warship to a standstill, than the Edran spoke.

You did not halt in the correct place. Position the Urzox directly below the Oblasar and then I will initiate the extraction.

I need to beat some of the eagerness out of the Exetran first, otherwise it’ll blow the Urzox to pieces while the extraction happens, said Grisham, making no effort to hide his irritation.

The process will not be a lengthy one and the Oblasar’s Kalor drive will activate quickly.

I understand, but you need to butt out and let me do what I’m doing, said Grisham.

“There’s the Exetran, Captain!” said Lopez. “It’s visible across the topsides of the Oblasar.”

The enemy craft was travelling fast, and just outside the null zone. It started ejecting missiles in the same staggered waves as before. The Urzox was struck by a psionic: suppression and Mind 2 went offline. To Grisham’s relief, Mind 1 – which had been sent into dormancy a short time ago - awoke, though it was in a weakened state.

Rather than trade blows with the Exetran, Grisham guided the Urzox back underneath the Oblasar. Now that the combat was underway, and having seen the outcome of the Alturian strikes on the Exetran, Grisham’s plan was to inflict some more pain on the enemy vessel, such that the Virdas artifact would abandon the all guns blazing approach and treat the Urzox with a bit more respect. With any luck, that respect would result in circumspection, allowing Grisham some extra time to put the rest of his plan in motion.

As soon as the Urzox came within a few hundred metres of the extraction domes, the same vibration as before resumed, only this time with an even greater intensity. The monitoring tools showed crazy readings, along with an immense, system-wide power draw. A shuddering from the Urzox’s engines made Grisham fear they would cut out.

Momentum carried the warship out of range of the extraction domes and Grisham held the vessel motionless a little way from the portside flank of the Oblasar.

“The Exetran’s Death missiles just went past the flank of the Oblasar and they aren’t banking back towards us,” said Lopez. “They must have had their guidance systems disabled once we re-entered cover.”

“The Exetran is definitely not intending to do any harm to the Oblasar,” said Deneuve.

“Where’s the enemy vessel going to reappear?” asked Grisham. The Exetran wasn’t yet on the sensor feeds.

“It’s hard to predict, Captain,” said Lopez. “I’m watching.”

“I’ll try and hit it with another shot from the Alturian guns,” said Grisham.

He breathed cold air through his clenched teeth and waited. This was a fine line he was walking, in which he needed to inflict as much damage on the Exetran as possible using the Urzox – which he was now classing as a disposable asset – in order that the enemy vessel would be so weakened that it would be easy prey for the Oblasar.

Of course, for all that to work out, Grisham would have to time his escape from the Urzox just right. After that came the small matter of boarding the Oblasar against the wishes of what he now felt sure was a hostile artifact, taking over the vessel and then finishing off the Ax’Kol warship. His eyes went to the shuttle docking bay entrance on the flank of the Edran’s warship. It was closed.

The Exetran appeared on the sensors, coming rapidly around the stern of the Oblasar, still at a hundred-thousand-kilometre distance, and far outside the firing arc of the rear Alturian guns. Grisham smiled thinly and instructed the Urzox to accelerate.

You should return to the extraction domes, Captain Jed Grisham, came the intruding telepathic voice of the Edran.

Grisham didn’t need this distraction. Leave me alone until I’m done.

You should return, repeated the Edran, this time with noticeably more force.

A sudden compulsion took hold of Grisham. He wasn’t going to defeat the Exetran using just the Urzox, and that left the Oblasar as the only vessel capable of challenging the Ax’Kol warship. All he had to do was return to the extraction domes and allow the Edran to power up its vessel. Once that happened, he’d be in a far better position to help the Human Federation.

Grisham spotted immediately what was happening, but only because he’d learned something about how these artifacts were able to affect his thoughts. In addition, this latest compulsion wasn’t nearly as subtle as the other attempts to influence his behaviour. Perhaps, he thought, the Edran wasn’t so good at forcing an instant response from an unwilling recipient.

“The artifact is trying to make me return to the extraction domes,” said Grisham, piloting the Urzox around the nose of the Oblasar. “Rear Hazik tube 1: fired. Mind 3, psionic: suppress on enemy vessel.” As he spoke, Grisham rolled the Urzox in an attempt to bring the rear Alturian guns on target. The enemy vessel banked out of the way.

Given the positions of the three spaceships, it was difficult for Grisham to remove the Urzox from the sensor arc of his opponent, and much of his warship remained exposed. He was also facing the additional problem of having to avoid the undersides of the Oblasar as much as possible, in case the extraction resumed.

“Do I need to put you under, Captain?” asked Private Logan.

“Not yet,” said Grisham.

“Are you sure, sir?” asked Deneuve. Her face was hard – she wasn’t intending to give Grisham much leeway on this.

“Yes, Commander. For the moment, I’m sure. Starboard Hazik tube 1: fired.”

Grisham banked around the nose of the Oblasar, but the Exetran adjusted its own heading to compensate. Missiles poured from the enemy warship and the shatter activated for a second time. Unfortunately, two waves of the incoming Death missiles were out of the effective range of the defence system. Grisham managed to trap the first forty-eight warheads in a psionic: slow, but the others crashed into the Urzox, producing a series of immense explosions along much of the warship’s starboard flank.

The pressure was building and, once again, the thought came to Grisham that he should allow the extraction to begin. He shook his head angrily and wondered how much of what was happening in his head was his own, and how much of it was coming from the Edran.

SEVENTEEN

Having landed forty-eight missiles on the Urzox, the Exetran continued its bombardment. The missiles came in ever-greater numbers and the enemy vessel’s under-utilised Punisher turrets started pounding the Urzox with a fusillade of gauss slugs. On the feeds, Grisham saw chunks of his warship’s biological armour being torn away. Usually, he’d have dismissed this kind of damage as superficial, but the Exetran was fitted with so many Punishers that the damage would soon accumulate into something more significant.

To top it all, the Virdas was now assailing the Urzox’s four minds with a near-constant bombardment of suppression attacks. Given how many suppressions the Exetran had already suffered in return, Grisham wondered at the depths of the enemy vessel’s psionic strength. Certainly, the artifact was giving him a clear demonstration of its superiority.

Another forty-eight Death missiles rained down on the Urzox’s topside, luckily hitting neither of the two Alturian turrets, but leaving a series of huge craters in the warship’s armour. Grisham caught the next wave in a psionic: slow and then managed to pilot the Urzox out of sight behind the starboard flank of the Oblasar, but not before he’d launched one of the topside Hazik missiles at his opponent.

“Minds 2 and 3 are offline,” Grisham said. “Minds 1 and 4 are on the brink.”

“Captain, maybe it is time to begin the extraction,” said Commander Deneuve.

Grisham was pushing hard – maybe too hard – but he was desperate to weaken the Exetran as much as possible. He was certain the Oblasar’s onboard systems wouldn’t restart at the click of a finger, regardless of whether the spaceship’s Kalor drive was online or not. Even when the weapons systems became available, Grisham and his crew would still have to figure out how to use them.

The Exetran came into sight once more, and Grisham cursed when he saw that his last-fired Hazik missile hadn’t successfully detonated.

“Forward Hazik tubes 1 and 2: fired,” said Grisham, turning the Urzox around two of its axes as he tried to bring the Alturian guns onto target. The Virdas was wise to his intentions and it banked in such a way that it vanished behind the Oblasar, though not before one of the Hazik missiles detonated against its underside.

“Captain, the extraction?” repeated Deneuve.

“Soon,” said Grisham.

Return to the extraction domes, said the Edran in his head. You must not delay any longer.

Grisham felt an urge to do what he was told. This urge was accompanied by a questioning voice inside that asked why he was taking these risks, when all he had to do was allow the extraction. Then, the Edran would do the rest.

A part of Grisham knew without a shadow of doubt that the Oblasar would take off into lightspeed as soon as it was able, leaving all the personnel from the Urzox behind. However, the insidious pressure on his mind increased and it was becoming progressively harder for Grisham to separate his own thoughts from those of the artifact. Surely the Edran would help humanity. What else did it have to fill the eternity of its existence?

Then came another crushingly persuasive thought. The Andos – the only artifact which can locate the Edran - is onboard the Exetran. Surely the Oblasar will stay to ensure the destruction of its opponents, in order that it will never be found.

This implanted idea – or maybe it wasn’t implanted at all – was hard for Grisham to ignore. He was being pulled from every direction and his mind conjured up the memory of when he’d gone near-as-damnit insane on his first shuttle ride to the Oblasar.

The Exetran will not permit itself to be destroyed, thought Grisham. It will…shit! It’ll do exactly what the Oblasar is intending to do.

Grisham’s anger at the coming double-cross brought a flash of clarity and he identified an opening – something he’d overlooked so far owing to his lack of experience with the Urzox. He checked his warship’s status. Minds 1 and 4 were the only two online, and there was no indication when or if Minds 2 and 3 would emerge from dormancy. Mind 4 was assigned to the psionic acceleration, and that left Mind 1 to do the job Grisham intended.

Along the interface, he sent a command to the Alturian guns and both turrets began to rotate towards portside. The Oblasar was also portside, and it was directly between the Urzox and the Exetran. Grisham scanned the feeds for the Ax’Kol warship, willing it to appear.

“Captain! There!” shouted Lopez, as if she’d somehow realised what Grisham was planning.

The Exetran sped into sight beneath the Oblasar. It launched missiles and a psionic: suppression hit Mind 1. The mind wavered on the brink of dormancy and Grisham willed it to be strong. A split-second later, it recovered, though he could sense that it was exhausted.

Grisham stared at the Exetran, doing his best to predict its position a few seconds from now. He chose his destination. “Activating psionic: displacement,” he said.

The sensors went offline for the briefest of moments and when their feeds resumed, Grisham saw the Exetran, not more than five hundred kilometres away and heading directly towards the Urzox. Grisham didn’t give the Virdas artifact a chance to react. The Exetran was in the firing line of all four Alturian guns and he sent the command across the interface.

“Alturian cannons forward and aft: fired,” said Grisham.

Despite the shortness of the range, only the projectiles from the rear turret struck the Exetran. But strike they did, landing close to the enemy warship’s nose, in an area already damaged by Hazik blasts. A massive section of the Ax’Kol vessel’s hull crumpled inwards.

The Exetran vanished.

“There’s our chance,” said Grisham. “The Exetran has displaced. Lieutenant Lopez – find it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mind 1 had shut down from the strain of generating the psionic displacement, which left only Mind 4 keeping the onboard systems talking to each other. If that mind was shut down, Grisham was sure the engines would go offline as well.

You are outside the null. You must return to the Oblasar, human.

The words from the Edran appeared inside Grisham’s mind and his first response was anger. He remembered how that was the emotion he found easiest to read and he suppressed it with an effort of will.

We’re on our way, Grisham replied, bringing the Urzox through a tight turn. The vessel was noticeably sluggish owing to the lack of psionic energy flowing into the engines. Open the shuttle bay door.

Yes. When the extraction of the Urzox commences.

Grisham could sense the injection of new instructions into his mind, telling him he should trust the Edran, and that he should go along with everything it was telling him. He wondered if – now that he knew how the artifacts operated – his mind was learning how to construct its own protective walls that allowed him to identify the wiles of this most subtle of enemies.

However, he recalled his doubts from only a short time ago and cautioned himself not to become overconfident. It was within the bounds of possibility that this was yet another example of how the Edran was manipulating him.

“The Edran is ratcheting the pressure,” said Grisham, tapping the side of his head.

“We need you to gain us entry into the Oblasar, sir,” said Deneuve.

“That was always in the plan, Commander.”

Grisham piloted the Urzox back into the null, having exited the zone by means of the psionic displacement. The Oblasar was less than a hundred thousand kilometres away, but the distance wasn’t falling as rapidly as he’d have liked.

“Any sign of the Exetran, Lieutenant Lopez?”

“No, Captain. The sensor arrays aren’t functioning well – they aren’t receiving enough of a psionic boost.”

“We’re down to one mind,” said Grisham. “It’s got plenty to deal with.”

He checked again and saw no indication that any of the three dormant minds were ready to emerge into a state of readiness. It was possible he might rouse them sooner, but that would mean a journey into the grey. If his crew had been available as backup, he’d have taken the risk, but right now Grisham was doing all the heavy lifting and he didn’t want to vacate his attention from this current task – not even for a moment.

The Urzox came steadily closer to the immense alien vessel and Grisham’s agitation increased with each passing moment. He scanned the sensor feeds for the Exetran at the same time as he piloted his warship.

“Lieutenant Lopez, I want you to watch the midsection shuttle bay entrance on the Oblasar,” said Grisham. “That’s the closest one to where I’m planning to park the Urzox, and it’s the one the Edran should be opening for us.”

“The bay entrance is closed, Captain.”

Grisham extended his telepathy. We cannot enter the Oblasar with the bay door closed.

You have not yet launched your shuttle, Captain Jed Grisham, came the response.

I like to know that everything’s in place, said Grisham. He tried to keep his communication as neutral as possible, in case the artifact got wind of what he was planning.

Very well. I will open the bay door, said the Edran.

Thank you. The Urzox will soon be in position for the extraction to commence.

The Exetran has not departed this area of space.

Where is the enemy vessel?

I have no point of reference to provide you those details. You must act quickly.

As ever.

Grisham severed the link. The Oblasar was within twenty thousand kilometres and, without reducing velocity, he rotated the Urzox so that its hull was parallel to the Edran’s spaceship.

“The shuttle bay door has opened, Captain,” said Lopez. “Maybe the Edran will let us onboard like it promised.”

“Like hell it will,” said Grisham. “Commander Deneuve, launch this shuttle from the portside exit.”

“Yes, sir.”

Deneuve wasn’t a reluctant pilot and, from the grumbling note of the transport’s engines, she’d requested something close to their maximum output. Even so, the vessel’s acceleration as it pulled away from the bay wall was disappointing.

“I’m taking us into the exit tunnel,” said Deneuve.

Grisham had just about enough spare mental capacity to glance at the feeds being generated by the shuttle’s own arrays. He saw the launch tunnel ahead and Deneuve was accelerating straight for it.

“I’ve sent the command to open the exit door,” she said.

The outer hull door slid aside and Deneuve piloted the shuttle through the opening and out into space.

“This transport is slow as hell,” she said. “Luckily we’ve inherited all the velocity from the Urzox.”

“Make sure you slow down in time,” said Grisham.

He retained his link to the warship, the portside flank of which filled the shuttle’s rear feeds. The only difference in velocity between the Urzox and the shuttle was that generated by the transport’s launch away from the Oblasar, and that meant the warship wasn’t far ahead. Deneuve banked and the shuttle’s engines grumbled some more.

This was perhaps the most dangerous part of the mission, since the shuttle was highly vulnerable to attack. However, Grisham was hoping the transport might avoid detection as long as Deneuve held it close to the Urzox. She knew the plan and was doing exactly that.

While Deneuve looked after the shuttle, Grisham continued piloting the Urzox. He’d set it on the correct heading before ordering the transport launch, so he didn’t have much to worry in terms of the piloting. He sensed Mind 2 coming online and then Mind 3 did likewise a short time later. Although they were awake, they had nothing left in the tank and there was no way they could face another encounter with the Virdas artifact.

“How’s your head, Captain?” asked Deneuve.

“I feel like I’m in control,” said Grisham. “I’m hoping that’s because the Edran thinks everything’s going as it intends. If it starts believing otherwise, that’s when I might act crazy.”

“I’m not sure I’ll notice the difference, Captain.”

Grisham laughed. “I trust you to make the right call, Commander.”

“Let’s test the brakes on this thing,” said Deneuve. “While there’s still time.”

The only variations the shuttle’s engines seemed to have were different degrees of agricultural grumbling. An increase in volume was followed by a couple of not-too-surprised curses from Deneuve. The Urzox drew further ahead and the gap would only increase because the warship was travelling at a far greater velocity than the transport’s maximum, meaning the shuttle lacked the capacity to catch up.

“Right, I’ve got the measure of it,” said Deneuve. “It’s as crappy as I thought.”

Grisham didn’t respond. His interface with the Urzox allowed him to view the warship’s sensors, and those sensors were telling him that there was plenty of margin for the shuttle to decelerate before it impacted with the Oblasar. However, that period of deceleration would be when the transport was at its most vulnerable owing to the distance between it and the protection of the Urzox’s hull.

And then, he saw it on one of the feeds. The Exetran had returned from wherever it had fled, and the immense Ax’Kol warship was heading towards the Oblasar at high velocity. At the moment, the Urzox was between the transport and the enemy vessel, but Grisham didn’t know how long that situation would last.

The future of his daring attempt to hijack the Oblasar was on a knife edge and Grisham couldn’t predict which way it would end.

EIGHTEEN

“You’ll have to keep the Exetran distracted, Captain,” said Lopez.

“That was my intention, Lieutenant,” said Grisham.

He commanded the Urzox to launch Hazik missiles from its starboard tubes, and rotated the warship slightly to speed up the aiming of the Alturian cannons. Having been struck several times by massive gauss projectiles, the Ax’Kol warship clearly lacked the appetite for another spoonful of the same medicine. It trapped the Hazik missiles in a psionic: slow, launched some missiles of its own and then executed a rapid change of heading that put it behind the Oblasar.

“The Virdas has had enough of this fight,” said Grisham. “But it knows we’re up to something and it’s trying to keep up the pressure.”

The Exetran had been both a headache and a pain in the ass ever since it first appeared on planet Hevos. Despite the extensive damage it had suffered from its engagement with the Urzox, the Ax’Kol vessel was far from out of the fight – its hull was looking worse for wear, but the controlling artifact had effectively defeated the four minds on the Urzox. Grisham hoped the Virdas had learned some humility to counter the overconfidence it had shown in the past. A cautious enemy was less likely to deliver a rapid, killer blow, than a one brimming with certainty.

The Exetran’s inbound missiles were taken out by the Urzox’s shatter pulse, but as soon as the warheads were disabled, the enemy warship emerged from cover and fired another two waves of missiles. Grisham launched both of the Urzox’s topside Hazik missiles in response, though without much hope they’d penetrate the enemy defences.

“Mind 3 was shut down again by a psionic: suppression,” said Grisham.

He commanded Mind 2 to trap the first salvo of enemy missiles in a psionic: slow, and the effort almost sent it into dormancy. The next wave of forty-eight were right behind. They struck the Urzox and detonated along its topside plating, as well as enveloping the forward Alturian turret in plasma. A red failure light appeared on the warship’s monitoring tools.

“If the extraction takes longer than a minute or two, there won’t be much left of the Urzox,” said Deneuve. “I’m going to change course towards the docking bay entrance - and it’s time to begin our deceleration.”

The propulsion boomed as the shuttle slowed and the Urzox dwindled on the forward feeds. Lopez made frantic adjustments to the sensors as she attempted to gain a view of the Exetran. The enemy ship was still hidden behind the Oblasar.

“I’m going to manoeuvre the Urzox into position,” said Grisham, his attention on the warship’s feeds. The Exetran appeared briefly and then vanished, but not before it had sent Mind 2 into dormancy with another psionic: suppress.

“We’re left with Mind 4,” he said. “If we lose that one, the propulsion will shut down.”

Grisham held the Urzox on course. In less than thirty seconds, it would be in position for extraction, while the shuttle would require an additional thirty seconds before it was able to dock. He intended to position the warship within touching distance of the Oblasar, in order to cut out the Exetran’s firing angle as much as possible.

The Exetran came once more into the Urzox’s sensor sight and Grisham was ready for it.

“Hazik missile launched from starboard tube 1,” he said. Grisham counted down from three in his head. “Hazik missile launched from starboard tube 2.”

The Exetran vanished once again behind the Oblasar, and the Hazik missiles turned clumsily as they attempted to home in on their target. Grisham had too much on his plate to call up the detonation reports for the warheads and he focused on guiding the Urzox into position.

Once again, the Exetran showed itself and it had no sign of fresh damage, though parts of its visible hull glowed in patches from the earlier missile strikes. The controlling mind was doing exactly what Grisham would have done, by keeping far outside the firing arc of the Alturian guns.

Grisham performed a rapid visual on the forward Alturian turret. Now that the plasma fires were fading, he could see that the guns weren’t completely wrecked, despite the failure warning on the status panel. Maybe the cannons would fire. Maybe they wouldn’t.

When the Urzox was less than a hundred kilometres from its destination, the Exetran hit Mind 4 with a psionic: suppression, sending it into dormancy. Through the interface, Grisham watched the power readings fall to zero. Mind 4 had been his last chance to pull this off and he prepared to enter the grey to see if he could rouse the spirits within it. He had no need – almost at once, Mind 4 hauled itself out of dormancy and the power gauges climbed again.

Now the Urzox was so close to the Oblasar, it was easier for Grisham to use the alien vessel as cover. Although he hadn’t intended to change course before his warship was in a position to be extracted, he had little choice other than to react to circumstances, and he guided the now slow-moving Urzox directly behind the Oblasar’s portside flank. While Grisham lacked visibility on the Exetran, he’d witnessed its tactics and knew its likely position.

“If the Exetran heads over the topsides of the Oblasar, this shuttle will be within its sensor arcs, Captain,” said Lopez.

Grisham had always been aware this moment would come. “I’ll see what I can do to hide us,” he said.

At times in the past, Grisham had been able to make the enemy minds not see him. On those occasions, he’d been concealing a limited area. The shuttle wasn’t enormous, but as soon as Grisham tried to make it invisible to the Exetran, he felt the beginnings of a headache.

“Take us in quickly, Commander,” he said through gritted teeth.

Maintaining the telepathic shield, in addition to everything else, was incredibly tough. When the Exetran raced into sight over the topsides of the Oblasar, Grisham was required to pilot the Urzox as quickly as possible into the range of the extraction domes. He wasn’t subtle and his rapid repositioning of the warship resulted in a low-velocity collision with the undersides of the Oblasar. Once there, Grisham commanded the vessel to remain at a standstill.

Since the enemy warship couldn’t enter the null, it had a long way to travel around the zone’s perimeter and Grisham believed he’d bought enough time for the shuttle to dock – as long as it wasn’t detected and blown to pieces by the Exetran.

“Go on! Move!” yelled Lopez at the enemy warship, when it made no immediate change of course.

The Exetran did move, but to Grisham’s horror, the control artifact chose a course that would bring it around the portside of the Oblasar – and that meant the shuttle would be visible all the way, unless Grisham’s telepathic shielding was successful.

“The extraction of the Urzox has begun,” he said. The power gauges on the warship were jumping all over the place. “Hit that docking bay entrance at top speed, Commander.”

“Absolutely, sir. Fifteen seconds and we should be docked,” said Deneuve, her voice tight. She cursed and then cursed again. “The docking bay entrance is closing!”

A year or two ago, Grisham had been naïve when it came to back-stabbing, double-crosses, and betrayals. Having been through those fires, he was now something of a reluctant expert. He’d anticipated this happening and that made him quick to react. Dropping his telepathic block to give himself some more energy, Grisham created a mind link to the door controls like he’d done on his first journey to the Oblasar.

“Hold steady, Commander,” he said. “I’m planning to open that door right at the last moment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And we’re now fully visible to the Exetran,” Grisham added.

“I don’t think the sensors on this shuttle are good enough to detect a weapons launch from the enemy vessel, Captain,” said Lopez.

“You won’t need to detect anything, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “Because we’re going to make it.”

At that moment, and with the transport heading towards the solid flank of the Oblasar at a velocity which would have caused mass faintings amongst members of the HF military’s health and safety advisory committee, Grisham ordered the shuttle bay door to open. Then, rather than pouring his anger into holding it open, he stayed as calm as possible and allowed his subconscious mind to maintain the telepathic command.

The plan worked and the shuttle sped through the square opening and into the darkness of the tunnel beyond. Commander Deneuve hauled back on the controls, the propulsion grumbled, and the transport decelerated.

Grisham felt a gentle impact and then the engines dropped back to their normal volume.

“A perfect docking manoeuvre,” said Deneuve, taking her hands off the controls. “Well – almost perfect.”

Having defeated the Edran’s efforts to betray him, Grisham sent it a thought as if nothing untoward had happened.

We’re here. What’s the status of the extraction?

He waited a few seconds, but the artifact didn’t respond. Grisham reached out with his senses and couldn’t detect any sign of the Edran. Either it was hiding or something else was going on.

“Captain, we should get out of here,” said Sergeant Maxwell.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do, Sergeant,” said Grisham.

“Am I taking the needle out, Captain?” asked Private Logan.

“Leave it in,” said Grisham sourly. “There’s still a chance you might need to put me under.”

“I’ll stay close,” said Logan, picking up the med-box by one of the cloth handles on its holding pack.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Grisham, climbing to his feet. The needle tube dangled down and he felt the scrape of sharp metal on the skin of his neck. He thought about adjusting the needle, but he didn’t want it falling out every few seconds. “Keep this tube out from under my feet, Private Logan.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham’s muscles were stiff for some reason, and his headache hadn’t entirely disappeared. It was possible he’d have a few more doors to force open in the near future and he wasn’t eager to find out how intense the pain might become. He promised himself he’d take a painkiller this time - before it became too bad.

Descending to the bay below, Grisham found Sergeant Maxwell giving orders. The soldiers were eager to go and they headed rapidly for the exit door.

“I didn’t see this part of the Oblasar last time, Sergeant,” said Grisham.

“I’ll lead, sir,” said Maxwell. “All the doors were open for us on our previous visit.”

“If they’re closed, I’ll get them open,” said Grisham, hoping his words were more than just empty air.

“What if we have to put you under again?”

“Then we’re in trouble,” said Grisham. “I can’t feel anything in my head. I’m learning to recognize the signs, so with any luck, the Edran has decided to leave me alone now that we’re onboard.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maxwell, with doubt in his eyes.

The soldier turned and gave an order. Private Vaughan pressed his fingers against the door mechanism and the door opened. Cold blue light filled the compact bay outside.

“Move!” said Maxwell.

A few moments later, Grisham stepped onto a solid metal docking platform. The bay was compact and rectangular, and not designed to accommodate anything much larger than the transport currently occupying it. Two alloy doors – each two metres wide and three high - offered the means to exit and both were closed.

Grisham noticed something else. “The engines aren’t online.”

“The extraction only just started,” said Deneuve.

“Let’s not pretend it’s a good sign, Commander,” said Grisham.

Maxwell was already running towards the nearest of the two exits and Grisham started after him. Private Logan hurried to keep up, holding his med-box in one hand and supporting the needle tube with the other.

“Like I said earlier, sir, the doors were open last time,” said Maxwell. He pointed at an eight-inch square made from a glassy black material on the left-hand side of the door. “But this looks like an access panel.”

“What are you waiting for, Sergeant?”

Maxwell placed his hand on the panel and the door opened with a whine of motors. A corridor lay beyond.

In case the onboard security wasn’t so accommodating deeper into the warship, Grisham searched for a telepathic link to the door panel and found one. He guessed the Oblasar had been designed to be operated by species both telepathic and non-telepathic. At least, that’s what the early evidence suggested.

While the soldiers began entering the passage beyond the door, Grisham executed another search for the Edran. Once again, it was absent and he had a feeling he might know exactly why that was, though he couldn’t begin to grasp the ramifications if he was right.

One thing was sure – the mission wasn’t going to be won by dawdling next to this access panel. Checking to make sure Private Logan was ready, Grisham hurried through the bay exit.

NINETEEN

From the bay, Grisham followed the soldiers left at an intersection, before entering a four-metre room containing a cube-shaped piece of tech that looked both ancient and strangely sophisticated at the same time. It wasn’t a good moment to start pushing buttons and he didn’t slow.

A little way along the next passage, Maxwell came to a halt and beckoned Grisham to move to the front. A door blocked the way.

“Try the access panel,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. I was just making sure you weren’t at the back of the pack.”

Maxwell took a single stride and thudded his palm onto the panel. Straightaway, the door opened.

“The security on the Oblasar has been disabled,” said Grisham. “Or maybe there was never any security.”

He entered the passage, with Maxwell alongside.

“Just ahead is the place we brought you out of unconsciousness, sir,” the soldier said, gesturing with his rifle.

“I can remember the way from here,” said Grisham. “Let’s pick up the pace.”

The two men accelerated to a steady run. After a few paces, Grisham yanked the needle out of his neck and let it fall. He was increasingly sure he wouldn’t need to be sedated again.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” said Maxwell. He didn’t miss much.

“I think the Virdas and the Andos are attempting to corrupt the Edran, Sergeant.”

“What will that mean for us, sir?”

“I haven’t had a chance to think about it,” said Grisham. “But we’re going to stick with the plan.” He didn’t want to say we’re going to smash the Edran to pieces out loud, or indeed picture the thought prominently in his head, so he made a hammering motion with one hand.

“Yes, sir.” said Maxwell. “What happens if the engines of this warship are still offline when we do what we’re planning to do?”

“We’re playing everything by ear, Sergeant.”

Maxwell fell quiet and Grisham didn’t encourage any more questions. This run to the artifact room wasn’t much of an opportunity to think, but it was the best Grisham had. Unfortunately, each step of his plan was an all-or-nothing affair, and even a single failure would lead to ruin. Regardless of the progress so far, there were yet more opportunities to fail before the plan could be deemed a success.

“Not far to the airlift,” said Maxwell after a few minutes.

“And then the fun and games begin again,” said Grisham.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his crew were keeping up with the soldiers. Commander Deneuve was right behind. She caught his gaze but she didn’t say anything, nor did her grim expression change. She was as good at reading a situation as anyone, and she wasn’t feeling confident, that much was clear.

Turning forward again, Grisham increased his pace to flat-out. Despite the preoccupation of his mind, he saw details that he hadn’t noticed on his first visit to the Edran. Here and there, wall panels glowed with text so dim it was almost invisible, while along side passages, he saw intriguing shapes of technology, none of which he had the time to investigate.

“The airlift,” said Maxwell, nodding ahead.

Grisham came to a halt. The lift door was closed, but a control panel was fitted on the wall nearby. He didn’t hesitate and pressed his hand against the panel. For a moment, he didn’t think the lift was going to open, but then the door slid aside.

“In,” snapped Grisham.

The soldiers and his crew needed little encouragement and they pressed into the cylindrical lift car. Everyone was breathing heavily, and nobody spoke. Grisham activated the lift and the door closed.

He felt acceleration and remembered this being a short ride. The air was cold and, for the first time, he noticed how it lacked any of the staleness he’d become accustomed to on both the Voltran and the Urzox. Instead, the Oblasar smelled clean and pure, yet with an edge of metal and electricity, in a way that Grisham had always associated with technology.

The lift arrived at its destination and the door opened automatically. Grisham was first out of the car and he ran towards the room in which he’d first encountered the Edran in its physical form. The artifact was on its pedestal, exactly where it had been before.

“Commander Deneuve, I want you and the rest of the crew to take a look through that passage opposite,” said Grisham, indicating the single exit he hoped would lead to the Oblasar’s bridge. “You know what to do.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve, heading away immediately and without asking questions.

“Are we going to break the artifact, Captain?” asked Sergeant Maxwell.

“We’ll see. First of all, I need some answers,” said Grisham. He stepped closer to the pedestal, his eyes jumping between the mesmerising pattern and the infinitely dark sphere sitting atop it. “Keep a watch on me, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Unsure if he was doing the right thing or not, Grisham placed his hand on top of the Edran. Words appeared straightaway in his mind.

You have…corruption…too strong.

Can you restart the Kalor drive? asked Grisham, mustering as much urgency into the question as he could manage.

Bridge…corruption…too strong.

Has your knowledge been extracted?

Some. I must not—

Show me what knowledge was taken, said Grisham mercilessly. The Edran was already defeated, that much he could tell, but it clung to some last fragments of what it had once been.

Details of lives and places flashed into Grisham’s head. There was so much information that he thought it might slip away, but he grasped at the pieces he thought he recognized and committed them to memory.

Give me and my crew access to the control hardware on the Oblasar. You tried to betray me in order to save your own skin, but at least you can do something to put it right.

There is no—

Do it, said Grisham. I will use the Oblasar to defeat the Gavax’Kol. I will hunt down every last one of the other artifacts and I will destroy them.

Access granted. I have gifted you what you need, but you must shatter the Edran. Destroy me.

Soon.

Grisham withdrew his hand and stepped back.

“Should we break the artifact, sir?” asked Maxwell.

“Not yet,” said Grisham, wondering what the Edran meant by a gift. “It’s being corrupted by the Andos and the Virdas. Soon, it’ll be lost.” He ran for the bridge. “But if we smash it into pieces before we’re ready to bring the Kalor drive online, the enemy will know the artifact is gone. Then, they’ll have an easy time turning the Oblasar into wreckage.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maxwell.

Grisham entered the bridge, which was hardly more than six metres by five and with a ceiling that sloped slightly as it neared the forward end of the space. From his first glance, he estimated there to be stations for no more than twelve officers, including the two at the command station. Five stations were already taken by his crew, and Commander Deneuve was sitting in the right-hand front seat.

Hurrying along the central aisle, Grisham could see that his crew were struggling. When he reached the front of the bridge, Grisham cast his eye quickly over the second command seat, in case the passing aeons had left it unable to support his weight. The seat was about his size, made from curved metal and had probably once been upholstered before the material decayed to nothingness.

Taking his place, Grisham looked at his console. The main panel in front of him was covered in switches, buttons and touch controls, and two horizontal control bars jutted out from the centre. Above the console, a single, curved, nonphysical screen floated in the air, projected from somewhere on the top panel. This screen glowed dimly and there was no text or anything else upon it.

Grisham placed his hand on the controls, but no mind link formed. He looked across at Deneuve. “Either there’s no mind link, or I’m doing something wrong.”

Deneuve didn’t usually look stressed, but she did now. “I can’t obtain a mind link either, nor can I get any response from the hardware, Captain,” she said. “I’ve already got a sense for how things operate, just from looking at this control panel, but I can’t find a way into the backend software.”

“The Edran told me it had—” Grisham started angrily. He readied himself to speak with the artifact again.

“No, wait!” said Deneuve. “I’m in!”

“Me too!” called Lieutenant Adler from the row behind.

“And me,” said Lopez.

The screen in front of Grisham suddenly filled with status windows and operational menus. All the words and digits were understandable, which he didn’t think so strange. The Edran understood him well enough, so it must have configured the backend software so that it would be usable to the warship’s new crew. There was still no mind link and Grisham was starting to wonder if the Edran had lied when it said there were mind spheres on the Oblasar.

“We don’t have much time, folks,” said Grisham. “As soon as we fire up the Oblasar’s Kalor drive – assuming it extracted enough energy from the Urzox – the Exetran will know about it. The enemy might not know we’re in charge, but they certainly won’t want this vessel taking off into lightspeed. The Virdas will try to disable our engines.”

“What’re our priorities, Captain?” asked Deneuve.

“The Kalor drive is number one,” said Grisham. “And Lieutenant Kinsey, I want you to look for a progress readout for the extraction.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham wanted to find out as soon as possible if the minds from the Urzox were on the warship and he searched telepathically for them. He got no sense of their presence. Grisham knew that some of the Ax’Kol and all of the artifacts could hide themselves from a mind search, making it seem as if his telepathic sight was looking across an empty plain. Here, it was different. There was no empty plain – he sensed nothing whatsoever.

What the hell?

He tried again, only this time he attempted to detect the uppermost emotions of his crew and the soldiers nearby. Once more, Grisham came up against that same nothingness.

The Edran told me of a gift. Has it stripped me of my telepathic powers?

Grisham felt a sudden emptiness that came with knowing his telepathy was gone. While his powers had been a double-edged sword, he’d grown used to having them. And yet, without the Edran to shield his mind, Grisham would succumb to the remaining artifacts - his life would be extinguished as easily as pinching out a candle flame.

Even though he accepted this truth, he felt the loss of his telepathy keenly. Grisham closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and then he was ready to move on. Mourning something he’d spent most of his life without wasn’t going to help him win any battles against the Ax’Kol.

“My telepathy’s gone,” Grisham announced. “No questions, let’s just get on.”

He set to the task of familiarising himself with the Oblasar, his eyes roving across the contents of his viewscreen, and occasionally jumping to the panel below. He was a talented officer, which meant he could usually figure out how to pilot any kind of spaceship given enough time, yet everything about the Oblasar’s operation seemed straightaway entirely clear, as if he’d been captain of the warship for years, instead of having first sat down at the command station less than five minutes ago.

“This all makes sense,” said Deneuve. “I don’t know why, but it does.”

“The Edran must have done something,” said Grisham. “Maybe it took knowledge out of my head and used it to configure the controls on the Oblasar.”

“Whatever it’s done, I reckon I could operate the weapons on this spaceship right now,” said Deneuve. She read out some of the names. “We have a crapload of Avil-Tor repeaters, some Zorl missiles, a Rodor Lance, whatever the hell that is, and something called a Repulsor. Unfortunately, while I know how to fire the weapons, I don’t know what any of them are designed to do, so I’ll have to pick things up as we go.”

“I can’t sense if we’re carrying the four minds from the Urzox. Is there anything showing up on the weapons panel? Like a way to activate a psionic attack or defence?” said Grisham.

“There are options, sir, but they’re greyed out and inaccessible.”

“Damnit, that must mean the minds weren’t extracted.” Grisham tipped his head back. “A promise broken.”

“Maybe not,” said Deneuve. “The weapons panel is showing four separate batteries for some kind of shield hardware. The batteries are at one hundred percent.”

“Look into it,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain, there are a few entries on the star charts you need to look at,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “I think they’re—”

“Human Federation planets,” Grisham interrupted.

“Yes, sir.”

“We can’t worry about them later. Lieutenant Adler, tell me about the Kalor drive.”

“I’m in the control software now, Captain,” said Adler. “I can activate the Kalor drive with the push of a button.”

“What about the extraction, Lieutenant Kinsey?”

“It’s ongoing, sir, but the monitoring tools don’t provide an estimate of when it’ll be finished.”

“But the Kalor drive will definitely fire up?” said Grisham.

“Absolutely, Captain,” said Adler.

It was the confirmation Grisham needed. While he would have preferred to spend some additional time investigating unanswered questions, he couldn’t delay any longer. The Ax’Kol had already torn plenty of information out of the Edran, and Grisham didn’t want the enemy gaining any more. He rose and turned to face the bridge. “We need to move quickly. On that basis, is everyone ready?”

The responses from his crew were all the reassurance Grisham needed. He strode through the bridge exit and into the room containing the Edran. The next order was one he could have given on the comms, but this Grisham had to see for himself – just to be absolutely sure.

“Sergeant Maxwell, destroy the Edran.”

“Yes, sir.”

The soldier advanced and knocked the artifact onto the floor with the butt of his gun. The weapon itself was lightweight and not much use for breaking things. “Stay back,” he said, indicating that Grisham should remain in the bridge corridor.

It was clear that Maxwell had discussed this with his squad, and the soldiers were already in the lift passage, where they wouldn’t be struck by ricochets. Maxwell took aim, as did Private Diaz and Private Chau. Shots fizzed out. Shards flew off the Edran, and the artifact was knocked sideways. The soldiers kept firing and, after a ten or fifteen seconds, Maxwell called a halt.

“Is that enough, Captain?” he asked.

By now, the Edran was in pieces, the largest of which was no more than a third of the artifact’s original mass. Grisham wasn’t sure, so he ordered the soldiers to resume firing.

A short time later, Maxwell raised a hand and the shooting stopped. The Edran was in even more pieces, and the largest fragment had been broken up.

“It’s done,” said Grisham.

He ran the short distance back to the command seat and dropped himself into place.

“Sir, the null is no longer active!” said Commander Deneuve.

“What happened to it?”

“The audit trail shows it received a shutdown command a few seconds ago.”

“Shit, the Edran must have issued the command just before we destroyed it!” said Grisham. “Will the null reactivate?”

“Maybe when the Kalor drive is—” Deneuve swore. “No, I think the generator hardware has been disabled.”

Grisham cursed as well and hoped the corrupted Edran hadn’t left the Oblasar without its one big advantage over the Ax’Kol. “Activate the null again if you can, but we can’t wait any longer.”

“Yes, sir.” Deneuve had something else to say. “Those batteries I told you about earlier – they’re mind batteries. The minds from the Urzox were brought onto the Oblasar.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Grisham. The news made him feel much better about everything.

However, the time had come. He drew in a lungful of cold, clean air.

“Lieutenant Adler,” Grisham said. “Fire up the Kalor drive.”

TWENTY

“Activating the Kalor drive,” said Adler, unable to keep the nervous anticipation from his voice.

In the distance, something produced a sound that was like deep thunder with extra bass. Grisham’s fingers were wrapped around the control bars in readiness and he felt a vibration through the metal. The thunder came again, this time from a different place within the warship. Then came a third boom and a fourth.

“The propulsion is made up from twelve modules, Captain,” said Adler loudly over the noise. “They’re firing up one after the other.”

“They’d best do it quickly,” said Grisham. Although the engines weren’t yet fully online, the power gauges on his instrumentation were climbing strongly.

“The sensors are coming up!” said Lopez.

“Show me what’s out there!” said Grisham urgently.

“Still waiting on the feeds, Captain.”

“Propulsion module ten is active,” said Adler. He paused for the thunder. “And there’s module eleven.”

“Is the Kalor drive fully recharged?” asked Grisham. In the background, he could hear the hard metal sound of technological perfection. It gave him high hopes for the Oblasar.

“I’ll tell you when the final module is running, sir,” said Kinsey. “And there it goes! The propulsion is fully online, the extraction is complete, and the Kalor drive is showing thirty-five percent of its maximum capacity.”

Thirty-five percent was lower than Grisham had hoped, but he reminded himself that the Oblasar had endured for hundreds of millions of years before its engines had become depleted. He was sure the warship would have enough power to last another few years, even if he kept his foot planted firmly on the accelerator.

“Where are those feeds, Lieutenant Lopez?”

“The feeds are now available!” said Lopez. “They’re on your screen!”

Grisham’s console screen was large enough to display a wealth of information and several of the Oblasar’s feeds appeared, all of them pin sharp. Directly below the Oblasar were the remains of the Urzox. Stripped of its biological matter, the vessel was no more than a bunch of huge alloy components, in all shapes and sizes, joined only by massive conduits. The engine blocks were underneath everything else, and they were dark cubes of an unknown material.

The sight of it brought out no strong emotion in Grisham, and he was more concerned about the Exetran, which was not visible on any of the feeds.

“Where’s the enemy warship?” he asked.

“If it’s there, I’ll find it,” said Lopez. “Got it! Shit, we have missiles inbound!”

At a distance of only fifty thousand kilometres, the Exetran was nearer than Grisham had expected. The Ax’Kol vessel was travelling at a high velocity in a curve around the Oblasar, unloading its Death missiles as it went.

Having suffered in its confrontation with the Urzox, the Exetran wasn’t looking shipyard new. Hazik plasma had caused obvious and extensive scarring, while the Alturian guns had created some impressively sized indentations which wouldn’t be healing overnight. Still, the fight evidently hadn’t been knocked out of the Ax’Kol vessel, hence it sticking around in the hope of disabling the Oblasar before it came fully online.

The first few waves of Death missiles – 144 in total - having already been in flight while Grisham and his crew were sensor blind, struck the Oblasar on its topside armour plating. Plasma detonations erupted along much of the warship’s length and Grisham hoped he’d not been dealt a knockout blow already. However, through the intense light of the blasts, he saw that an intricate pattern of blue-white energy had appeared around the hull of the Oblasar.

“That’s our energy shield, Captain!” said Deneuve. “It’s drawing from our mind batteries!”

“It’s time to do some combat testing, folks,” said Grisham, his face set. He requested maximum power from the propulsion and the output gauges jumped upwards. The acceleration pressed Grisham into the hard back of his seat and the engines produced an electrifying howl that made his skin tighten. “Commander Deneuve, show me what the Oblasar can do.”

“Yes, sir. Avil-Tor repeaters set to automatic. Enemy warship targeted with Zorl missiles. Topside and portside clusters one to four: fired.”

Grisham wasn’t sure what to expect from his new spaceship’s weaponry and he watched at the same time as he brought the Oblasar around in a tight curve, and tried to keep a mental note of which clusters the Exetran had recently discharged its missiles from. Keeping an enemy’s reloading weapons in a facing position was tough, but it was a good way to swing a knife-edge combat.

The Oblasar was fitted with 288 of the Avil-Tors, and they emerged from beneath protective covers. The guns were single-barrel and Grisham’s eyes widened at the size of their bores. A moment after Deneuve had activated the weapons, almost a hundred had locked onto a target. Projectiles spilled from the repeaters at an incredible rate, and they pulverised ninety percent of the inbound Death missiles.

“Impacts,” said Lopez.

A smattering of enemy warheads struck the Oblasar and exploded, though once again the energy shield sprang into being, absorbing the blasts and the plasma heat.

“Topside and portside Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “Waiting on reload.”

“Our first wave of Zorl missiles has been caught in a psionic: slow,” said Bishop. “No, wait! Some of them got through. I don’t know what—”

“Psionic slow on our second wave of missiles,” said Lopez. “Ten of them were not affected.”

Grisham saw it happening on one of the sensor feeds. Eight missiles from the Oblasar’s first wave of forty-eight were completely unaffected by the Exetran’s psionic defences and they crashed into the enemy vessel’s damaged flank. A couple of seconds later, ten warheads from the second wave also impacted and exploded.

“Damn, those are some high-yield warheads we’re carrying,” said Adler.

Meanwhile, more than half of the Avil-Tor repeaters had automatically retargeted onto the Exetran. Their slugs punched out huge lumps of flesh and the gunfire raked from nose to stern along the Ax’Kol warship. Three more waves of Death missiles were still in flight and the other repeaters tore into them.

The combat hadn’t long started and Grisham was already feeling at home on this colossal alien warship. It wasn’t just the knowledge implanted by the Edran, it was also the way much of the control hardware could have been lifted straight off a Human Federation warship. Although Grisham had found recent success with mind-controlled spaceships, it felt good to once more have everything under manual control.

“Psionic: slow on our third and fourth waves of missiles,” said Lopez. “Seventeen in total made it through. Four have been taken out by Punisher fire. The Exetran has suffered thirteen impacts.”

It suddenly came to Grisham that the Oblasar had been specifically designed to combat warships powered by minds and psionics. Perhaps, at the time of its construction, psionics had been in the ascendancy, and the Oblasar was an answer to that – a demonstration of what technology alone could achieve.

The thought was only fleeting and Grisham didn’t pursue it, as much as it appealed. He rolled the Oblasar to bring its loaded missiles tubes to bear, and marvelled at how quickly the vessel responded, despite its incredible mass. Nor did the forces placed upon the hull produce so much as a creak or a groan, suggesting a solidity to the Oblasar that was borne out by the age of the vessel and the battle scars it wore.

“Give them another salvo, Commander,” said Grisham.

“Underside and starboard Zorl clusters one to four: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve.

As the new wave of missiles raced off into the darkness, the underside and starboard Avil-Tor guns erupted from the hull. Their targeting happened at breath-taking speed and they began hurling out projectiles almost instantly.

“Our hull shield was activated again,” said Lieutenant Adler. “And there it goes again.”

“Psionic: decay attacks,” said Grisham, trying not to let the scintillating patterns of the shield hold his gaze.

“The mind batteries are falling, Captain,” said Deneuve. “And it’s not just from maintaining the shield.”

“Maybe they’re being hit by suppression attacks as well,” said Grisham.

“You might be right, sir, but if so, those suppressions aren’t nearly as effective as they were against the Voltran and the Urzox.”

“We’ll talk about our conclusions later, Commander. You haven’t tried the Rodor Lance or the Repulsor yet.”

“Neither of those weapons have offered me a targeting option yet, sir,” said Deneuve. “Like I said before – I know how to operate the weapons, but I don’t have knowledge of their technical limitations.”

“Zorl impacts imminent,” said Lieutenant Bishop.

“Underside and starboard Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted and fired,” said Deneuve, late on the launch, having been distracted by her conversation with Grisham.

“Our missile waves five and six have been affected by a psionic: slow,” said Lopez. “Twelve have punched through. Four taken out by Punishers. Eight detonations.”

“Four waves of Death missiles inbound,” said Bishop.

“Our hull shield has activated again,” said Adler. “The mind batteries are down to seventy-two percent.”

“Zorl waves seven and eight have been affected by psionic: slow attacks,” said Lopez. “Fifteen broke through. Nine detonations.”

As he listened to the updates, Grisham did his best to outmanoeuvre the Exetran. The Virdas artifact appeared to have bottomless wells of psionic energy. Having emerged from psionic combat with the Urzox, it didn’t seem appreciably drained and it was able to both attack the Oblasar and defend itself at the same time.

None of that mattered – the hull of the enemy vessel had taken a pounding from the earlier engagement, and now it was suffering repeated strikes from the Zorl missiles. Those missiles not only had an enormous yield, but they were visibly far more effective against the biological hull of the Ax’Kol warship than any other warheads Grisham had seen directed against the enemy. Each explosion tore open a huge crater, and burned so hot that the flesh surrounding the blast zone shrank away, while the plasma flames seemed to persist longer than normal.

“Forward Zorl missile clusters one to four, targeted and fired,” said Deneuve.

“The Exetran is going to make a run for it,” said Grisham, watching the Avil-Tor guns pulverise another wave of Death missiles. “It has no need to stay in the fight.”

Grisham had a good eye for combat. The Exetran was being struck by an unrelenting bombardment from the Avil-Tor repeaters, much of which was concentrated on the areas of the enemy hull which had earlier been hit by the Alturian guns. The damage was building up and if the Ax’Kol spaceship continued trading blows, it would soon be destroyed.

“The Rodor Lance is targetable!” yelled Deneuve.

“Fire!” said Grisham at once.

Before Deneuve could activate the weapon, the Exetran vanished from the forward feed as if it had never existed.

“Shit!” said Grisham. “A psionic displacement. Find it!”

“I’m looking, Captain,” said Lopez. “But if the Exetran can displace anything like the same distance as the Urzox was capable of, I’m not going to locate it anytime soon.”

Grisham was seething. The Exetran had been on the ropes, and now it had escaped by means of an unpreventable instant entrance into lightspeed. It was no wonder the Ax’Kol warship had survived for so many millions of years.

Something caught Grisham’s eye on his control panel. The utilisation on the Oblasar’s main processing cluster – technological processors – was above ninety percent, when it hadn’t peaked any higher than forty percent during combat.

“Lieutenant Adler, what’s chewing on our cores?” asked Grisham.

“I don’t know, Captain – I’m checking it out.”

“Do it quickly,” said Grisham, fighting to keep the impatience from his voice. The Edran had imparted operational knowledge of the Oblasar, but an increasing number of gaps were becoming evident. “Lieutenant Lopez, any sign of the Exetran?”

“No, Captain. The sensors on the Oblasar are pretty damned amazing, but the volume of the search sphere is enormous.”

Grisham did his best to keep the anger from his voice, though inside he was feeling it. The destruction of the Exetran would have been a major blow to the Ax’Kol, but it didn’t seem like it was going to happen.

“Captain!” said Adler, that single word conveying depths of excitement and disbelief. “I found out why the core utilisation is so high – the Oblasar has been calculating the vector of the Exetran’s escape!”

“Into lightspeed?” asked Grisham with equal disbelief. Many within the Human Federation thought such a feat was impossible. “Scratch that question, Lieutenant. Tell me how we find those bastards.”

“The data should automatically feed through to your tactical, Captain.”

Sure enough, a distant red dot appeared on the tactical section of Grisham’s viewscreen. Beneath the dot, a single word glowed.

Pursue?

Grisham didn’t know if he was about to initiate a lightspeed warmup when he selected the option, but he suspected he’d get something a little more.

The Oblasar’s Kalor drive rose from a low-level hum to a crescendo that was almost a shriek. A thumping expulsion of energy followed that hit Grisham right in the chest. Every one of the sensors went offline.

“We executed a lightspeed jump!” shouted Grisham. “Be ready!”

The sensors came online as he was speaking and, on the very edge of one of the portside feeds, at a distance of about a hundred thousand kilometres, he saw the Exetran. The enemy vessel was stationary, and that likely meant it was preparing for a longer lightspeed transit. Grisham was determined it wouldn’t get away.

“Commander Deneuve, blow that warship to pieces!” he said.

“Yes, sir. Portside Zorl clusters one to eight, targeted and fired,” said Deneuve. “Avil-Tor repeaters set to automatic.”

The Exetran hadn’t been caught entirely unawares and it accelerated from its starting position. Its recent lightspeed entry had been enough to extinguish the plasma flames clinging to its hull, but much of the Ax’Kol vessel’s exterior remained a deep orange colour. With the fires out, Grisham could see clearly that his opponent’s warship was nearing failure.

“Topside Zorl clusters one to eight: fired!” said Deneuve.

“Our first wave has been affected by a psionic: slow,” said Lopez.

“There have been no psionic attacks directed at our hull,” said Adler. “The Virdas is running out of steam!”

“Nineteen Zorl missiles were not affected by the psionic: slow,” said Lopez. “Six have been taken out by the enemy Punishers. Thirteen confirmed impacts.”

The combined explosions tore out a vast section of the Exetran’s portside flank, like a volcanic eruption of flesh and plasma. Avil-Tor shots plunged into the opening, causing, Grisham hoped, untold damage to the enemy vessel’s interior.

“If the Virdas has the strength, it’s going to take that warship into lightspeed again,” said Deneuve. By now, Grisham had rolled the Oblasar. “Starboard Zorl clusters one to eight: fired,” she said.

This time, the missiles weren’t affected by a psionic: slow, and the Exetran’s Punisher guns appeared to be losing their ability to target the inbound warheads. Eighteen of the Zorl missiles were destroyed, but another seventy-eight vanished deep into the Exetran’s hull breach. A fountain of light and fire burst out and the entirety of the Ax’Kol warship seemed to bulge.

“Give it some more, Commander.”

Deneuve didn’t hold back and she launched another 192 missiles, in two waves of ninety-six. Sporadic Punisher fire stabbed out from the Exetran, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Many of the first salvo detonated within the hull breach, while the others struck different areas of the Ax’Kol vessel’s hull.

A few seconds later, another eighty-five Zorl explosions were enough to finish the job. Having suffered terrible punishment, the Exetran was torn into several pieces. Amongst the dark flesh of its hull debris, Grisham saw the dull grey of the technology which had been melded with the biological matter.

For a few seconds, he watched, trying to gauge if either the Virdas or the Andos had survived. Certainly, the Exetran was no longer a threat to the Human Federation, or any other species in the universe. Even so, the enemy vessel had endured for so long that Grisham wasn’t willing to risk leaving it with any chance to recover, nor to leave before he was absolutely convinced the corrupted artifacts were no more.

“Keep going, Commander,” he ordered.

For several minutes, Deneuve targeted the larger pieces of wreckage and fired Zorl missiles at them. The debris was now scattered across a wide area of the local space, and they showed as burning points of light on the sensor feeds.

At last, Grisham was satisfied.

“That’s enough,” he said. “There’s no need for us to spend any more of our ammunition.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve.

The battle was over, and Grisham felt relief more than he did satisfaction. For a couple of minutes, he sat where he was, his eyes seeing, but his mind elsewhere.

The Exetran had pursued him and his crew for what seemed like a lifetime, and now it was gone. Grisham knew that if he dwelled on his memories, he’d become angry, and he didn’t want to grant his now-vanquished enemy any control over his feelings.

His thoughts went to the Edran artifact, which had badly overestimated its ability to resist the corruption of the combined Andos and Virdas. It had tried to betray him, but it was only looking to save its own skin and Grisham felt it no ill-will. He understood.

Yet, at the last, the Edran had given him and his crew access to a tool that would be instrumental in the war against the Ax’Kol, and then, when the corruption took over entirely, the artifact had shut down and disabled the null. Having seen the effectiveness of the Oblasar’s conventional weaponry, Grisham wasn’t nearly as concerned as he might have been.

To cap it all, the Edran had stripped him of his telepathy. Grisham wasn’t yet decided if he missed his powers or if he was glad they were gone. He’d know in time.

“Captain?” asked Deneuve softly. “What’s next?”

Grisham smiled – a genuine smile that reflected a sudden improvement of his mood. “I have some ideas, Commander.”

TWENTY-ONE

“Lieutenant Lopez, before we blew the crap out of the Exetran, you were telling me about some entries in our star charts,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir – populated worlds like you already guessed.”

“It wasn’t a guess,” said Grisham. He twisted in his seat, but couldn’t see much of Lopez behind her console and screen. “The Edran told me the Ax’Kol had extracted information from it, and since the Edran was able to locate life, I knew what the enemy had gained. The artifact showed me where those places were and I recognised Loxor among them. Which other of our worlds are showing on the Oblasar’s charts?”

“I haven’t had the chance to confirm the details yet, Captain, what with the combat and all,” said Lopez. “My intention is to compare the star data in our suit computers with the star charts on the Oblasar. If I can get them to tally up using a positional overlay, I’ll be able to tell you exactly which of our planets the Ax’Kol know about.”

“Do it at once, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “I’d like to head straight back to Loxor.”

“Yes, sir, it shouldn’t take long.”

“Lieutenant Adler, what’s your impression of this warship?” asked Grisham.

“First impressions make me believe it’s a technological wonder, Captain. Ever since we recovered the Voltran, we’ve been learning the lesson of how psionics are superior to plain old tech. I reckon the Oblasar is about to re-write that story. The propulsion can generate monumental thrust and the only time the Kalor drive reserve gauge fell was when you executed the lightspeed pursuit – and even then, we’re only talking about one digit at the tenth decimal place.”

“And the four minds from the Voltran are acting as batteries for the energy shield, Captain,” added Kinsey. “Those batteries have already recharged themselves to one hundred percent.”

“It makes me wonder what kind of species would equip their warships with mind batteries – batteries that are created from the deaths of living creatures.” Grisham’s anger threatened to return, but he held it down. “The Edran made out like its creators were pure as the driven snow, and yet here—” He shook his head.

“We don’t know what kind of energy the Oblasar’s shields were designed to utilise, Captain,” said Deneuve. “Maybe the minds from the Voltran just happened to be a good fit.”

“I hope you’re right, Commander. I’d like to think there is some good in the wider universe, even if we’ve only been seeing the worst of what it has to offer.”

“A shame we didn’t get to try out the Rodor Lance,” said Deneuve, with a sideways smile. “Or the Repulsor.”

“You were about to fire the Rodor Lance when the Exetran entered lightspeed,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir, I was. I discovered that the hardware assembly is fitted in the Oblasar’s nose and it has a limited firing arc.”

“So we need to be aimed directly towards our opponent before it’ll activate?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about the Repulsor?”

“I still don’t know what that one does, Captain. The hardware lights are all amber, so it’s either locked down, or I’m doing something wrong.”

“And since it’s unlikely to operate at lightspeed, or out of combat, you might not have much opportunity to figure things out before we’re fighting again,” said Grisham.

“That’s the situation, sir.”

“Captain, I’ve created the star chart overlay,” said Lopez. “You might want to come and look at the results.”

Grisham nodded to Deneuve to indicate she should take over the controls, and then crossed over to Lopez’s station. Her expression was one of worry.

“These three planets are Loxor, Shesa-2 and Earth,” she said, tapping a fingertip on her screen. “I recognize some of these star patterns over here and I reckon this is the Golor sector.” She zoomed out, revealing several more highlighted planets. “And that almost certainly means these other five worlds belong to the Kijol.”

“We’ll need to speak with our new allies, and make them aware,” said Grisham.

“The artifact highlighted other places on the star charts as well, Captain. Most of them are way out beyond the fringes of Human Federation exploration, but there are some others that are separated from the Kijol worlds, but not by much – not in celestial terms in any case.”

“Maybe those are other species the Kijol are at war with,” said Grisham. “Or maybe, the Kijol got doubly screwed over by the Edran because it just told the Ax’Kol where to find most of their populated worlds.”

“If our destination is Loxor, we should be on our way, Captain,” said Deneuve. “There’s nothing keeping us here.”

“You’re right, Commander,” said Grisham. “Lieutenant Adler, do you have the coordinates for Loxor?”

“Yes, sir, and I’m ready to feed them into the navigational system on your order.”

“Do it,” said Grisham. “Aim for a place five million klicks from the planet – we don’t want to turn up on the front doorstep riding in a fifteen-thousand-metre warship.”

“The Oblasar is preparing for lightspeed,” said Adler a moment later. “The warmup time is two-point-five minutes, and the journey time is estimated at three days. I think I can increase the multiplier by tapping into the Kalor drive.”

Grisham considered the importance of reducing the journey time to Loxor. He was desperate to return, but didn’t want to push the Oblasar without knowing exactly what the outcome would be. The warship would be needed for the long haul, and this was a risk he didn’t want to take.

“As tempted as I am, Lieutenant, I don’t want to arrive at Loxor and discover our newly-recharged Kalor drive is down to ten percent because we unknowingly and exponentially increased the drain,” said Grisham. “Let’s save the experiments for later.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the timer counted down, the volume of the Kalor drive increased, turning from the low hum of idle, to a deep-chested thunder that was entirely different to the hard-edged howl of the vessel when it was under full acceleration. Grisham wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he thought the scents of raw technology intensified as the warship readied itself for the transit.

The timer hit zero and the thunder turned into a resonating boom that brought a wide smile to Grisham’s face. He looked across at Deneuve and she was smiling too.

“If we can keep this vessel intact long enough, the Human Federation is going to advance a hundred years from studying its technology,” she said.

“First, we’re going to use it to kick some ass,” said Adler with a gruff laugh.

“That we are, Lieutenant,” said Grisham.

One technical hurdle the creators of the Oblasar hadn’t overcome was the inability of a sensor array to gather any meaningful data while travelling at lightspeed, and all of the arrays were offline. Grisham wasn’t disappointed, and he’d long since stopped wondering what the inside of a lightspeed tunnel looked like. Grey, no doubt, or completely dark.

For ten minutes, Grisham sat at his station. Every needle and gauge was in the right place, and every readout told the same story – that the Oblasar had come through the aeons without any noticeable decline in its operational capabilities.

Grisham opened a comms channel.

“Sergeant Maxwell, have you begun exploring yet?”

“Yes, sir, I sent Corporal Fine and a couple of others to go looking.”

“And have they found anything yet?”

“No, Captain. A few rooms and plenty of tech. Nothing that looks like a bunk room or a mess area.”

“That’s what I figured. The Oblasar has been around too long for anything degradable to have survived.”

“I’ll let you know if we find anything interesting, sir.”

Cutting the channel, Grisham held in a sigh. “It’s going to be a long three days,” he predicted. “And we’ll need to be fresh at the end of it.”

“What do you think we’re going to find at Loxor, sir?” asked Lopez. “The Senate has had weeks to evacuate the planet.”

“The evacuation won’t be complete,” said Grisham. “Even with the best will in the world, there’s too much work involved in lifting billions of people into space for it to be finished quickly.”

“We’ve been off-grid for so long, it’s possible events have moved on significantly,” said Adler. “And for the worse.”

“I’m trying not to think about it,” said Grisham. “I keep telling myself the Ax’Kol have plenty of choice over which planets they attack, and that Loxor will be way down the list.”

Grisham didn’t want to say it out loud, but choice in this instance meant Kijol worlds. Although he didn’t want humanity’s newfound allies to suffer any more than they already had, the truth was, they’d been fighting the Ax’Kol for a lot longer, and maybe that meant the enemy would be targeting the Kijol planets first.

Minutes turned into hours and the Oblasar forged its way towards its destination. Sergeant Maxwell had joined Corporal Fine’s search for anything resembling comfort within the warship, and the soldiers had located rooms not far from the bridge that had once been quarters for the vessel’s crew.

Everything in these rooms had decayed into nothingness, except the metals. Usually a life support system would prevent such a thing happening, but Grisham guessed the hardware had stopped functioning when the Kalor drive shut down. Either that or the Oblasar had never actually carried its intended biological crew and the Edran had therefore seen no need to maintain a ship-wide life support field.

On the plus side, the toilets and showers were functioning, and, when he heard as much, Grisham suddenly realised exactly how grubby he was feeling, and how much he longed for a few comforts. Even though a Human Federation warship was a world away from luxury, Grisham would have been happy for a thin, over-firm mattress to lie on while he listened to some music.

In addition to the personnel quarters, the soldiers had found a mess area, intended to seat a few dozen people. Maxwell reported the presence of two replicator devices in this mess area, though neither would produce any food. They would, however, produce water, which the sensor in Maxwell’s suit reported to be entirely safe. As yet, none of the soldiers had put the liquid to the test.

Given the circumstances, Grisham allowed his crew the option to sleep at their stations if they wished and if they were able, with the only stipulation being that one person remained awake at all times. He thought this was the best way to maximise the chances of everyone being at full alertness when the Oblasar arrived at Loxor. The alternative was to send his crew away for eight hours at a time and hope they were able to gain a few hours asleep on a hard metal surface somewhere. Nobody expressed any appetite for that.

Twelve hours into the journey, Sergeant Maxwell had completed his search of the warship’s interior. Despite the elapsed time, he reported that the personnel areas were fairly compact, and the exploration had only taken so long because several passages were inordinately long. These led to maintenance areas within the vessel, where there was nothing of particular interest to be found.

Grisham had not yet slept at this point, and, though he could feel tiredness creeping up on him, he set out from the bridge to take a look around the Oblasar. If there was ever a need for a quick exit, he wanted to know how to make it most efficiently to the nearest shuttle bay – of which the vessel had four in total, three of which held transports.

The soldiers had already boarded each of these shuttles and reported them seemingly flight ready. Grisham had been wondering how the propulsions on the transports had lasted so long, given that the Oblasar’s Kalor drive had failed. The best explanation he could come up with was that the shuttles had been recharged by the warship’s propulsion.

The closest shuttle bay to the bridge was set over three levels, accessed by a cylindrical lift. Grisham didn’t bother to ascend and he entered the door leading to the lowest level. The bay was long and with curved walls, and a shuttle was parked next to a five-metre-deep platform. The shuttle was square edged and almost eighty metres in length. Although Grisham couldn’t see any weapons, he was sure the vessel was packing armaments somewhere on its lower half, which was currently below the level of the platform.

Entering the transport, Grisham looked briefly into the passenger bay - which was designed to accommodate at least two hundred passengers - before he climbed to the cockpit. The hardware here was remarkably sophisticated and Grisham sat himself down in front of it for a time, while he familiarised himself with the controls.

A shuttle was a shuttle, no matter how advanced, and, within a few minutes, he was confident in his ability to pilot the vessel competently.

Having exited the shuttle, Grisham spent another couple of hours walking through the Oblasar’s interior. Everything about the vessel made him think of a Human Federation warship, just with an added feeling of age, and some technological superiority.

At one point, Grisham sat himself on the floor of a compact room that was otherwise empty except for one status panel on the wall, closed his eyes, and thought back. The Voltran had been a magnificent vessel, once he and his crew had helped it transcend its origins, but, now that he thought about it, Grisham had always preferred its conventional armaments over its psionics. A missile had defined specifications – velocity, manoeuvrability, explosive force and so on – that were known and could be relied on.

The psionics, on the other hand, always had a will-they-won’t-they element, though Grisham admitted to himself that he’d come to enjoy the more instinctive nature of that type of combat.

He smiled inwardly at his own confliction. Ultimately, it didn’t matter which he preferred - the Oblasar was now the tool at his disposal, and he was determined to put it to the best possible use.

Returning to the bridge, Grisham found Adler and Bishop clearly asleep, while Lopez looked as if she was about to follow suit.

“Anything to report, Commander?” asked Grisham, taking his seat.

“No, sir, everything’s been quiet.”

Grisham was tired, but he spent some time talking with Deneuve. The two of them reminisced about past missions, and memories that were sometimes good and sometimes bad. When the conversation ended, Deneuve insisted that Grisham get some sleep.

Accepting the offer, he closed his eyes, and slept for a while. When Grisham awoke, he felt a little better, though he was already looking forward to having some more sleep.

The remainder of the three days passed in a similar fashion. Grisham and his crew were accustomed to resting in adverse conditions, so as the arrival time neared, they were all ready for whatever Loxor would bring.

“Ten minutes!” shouted Adler.

Grisham ran his eyes across his console, where nothing had changed. The Oblasar was in a fully operational state. What he and his crew would find at Loxor, Grisham didn’t know. He had a feeling that the chaos of a mass evacuation awaited, along with instructions from Senator Maynard to depart immediately for some far-flung part of the Kijol empire, to help the aliens in their war with the Ax’Kol.

The long pursuit with the Exetran had been mentally draining, along with all the additional crap involving artifacts and telepathy. Grisham was ready for a change.

TWENTY-TWO

As it exited lightspeed, the Oblasar’s propulsion went momentarily and eerily quiet. Then, the background hum resumed at the same level as before.

“The sensors are coming up,” said Lopez.

“Lieutenant Bishop, you know what to do,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir. I’m to establish a comm channel with someone on the Fremont base, or with one of the local fleet warships.”

“It’s vital that we’re not perceived as a threat,” said Grisham. “On the assumption that the evacuation is still underway, everyone’s going to be on edge – especially if the planetary monitors detect the presence of the Oblasar before we’ve ironed things out.”

“I’ve obtained a sensor lock on Loxor, Captain,” said Lopez. “It’s on your screen.”

From this distance, the planet looked exactly how he remembered it and Grisham felt a pang of homesickness. While he hadn’t really put down any roots as such, the Fremont base held many memories.

“Will the feed enhance any further?”

“Yes, Captain, I’m working on it.”

Glancing at his control panel, Grisham saw the extra workload on the warship’s core, as it crunched the feed data and tried to make it into something better.

“Lieutenant Bishop, where’s that comm channel?”

“Fremont is on the facing side, and I’ve sent a request to its main receptor, sir,” said Bishop. “I’m waiting on a response.”

Grisham experienced his first twinge of unease. “What reason might there be for the delay?” he asked.

“It’s possible the signature of our transmission will have already alerted someone to the fact that this spaceship isn’t human and isn’t Kijol, sir. If so, the officer in charge of the comm room will be escalating.”

“Normally they’d just answer anyway, while the escalation takes place,” added Lopez.

“That’s what I thought,” said Grisham.

“The alternative is that there aren’t enough personnel to deal with the comm, sir,” said Bishop. “If the planet is in the middle of an evacuation, I imagine everyone is stretched.”

“Keep trying,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh shit,” said Lopez. “Sir, you need to check out the enhanced feed.”

The planet sharpened appreciably on Grisham’s screen and he zoomed in. Straightaway, he could see what had Lopez so worried. Blurred patches of grey – smoke - rose from cities across the largest visible land mass and many of the surrounding areas were blackened.

“There’s been fighting,” said Grisham. That could only mean one thing. “The Ax’Kol came.”

“Sir, I’ve got hold of someone on Fremont,” said Bishop. “Well, he’s not exactly on Fremont – he’s using the functioning comms hub on the base as a proxy to hide his real location.”

“Is it the Ax’Kol?” Grisham demanded.

“Yes, Captain.” Bishop raised a hand to indicate he was listening to the comms officer. Soon, he spoke again. “The planet was most of the way through its evacuation when a handful of Ax’Kol warships arrived. They landed some of their ground forces before the local fleet destroyed the enemy vessels. Since then, the Ax’Kol have returned in greater numbers and most of the local fleet has been destroyed.”

Grisham cursed and thumped his clenched fist down on the arm of his chair. “Damnit – how many enemy warships are at the planet?”

“The estimate is more than twenty, Captain, including one spaceship I believe might be an Engarvax carrier. The remains of the local fleet – six warships in total – are hiding on the blindside of Loxor’s moon. I think there’s been a breakdown in the planet’s command structure, sir. It sounds like nobody has any idea how to deal with the situation.”

“This officer you’re speaking with – is he able to grant us a transmission key so that the Oblasar’s comms will be recognized by other members of the fleet?”

“I’ll check, Captain.” Bishop talked animatedly into the comms for almost thirty seconds. “He’s going to send us a key,” he confirmed at last.

“Let me know when you’ve received it,” said Grisham.

He stared at the feeds, while his mind turned. It was clear the Ax’Kol were on the brink of claiming Loxor, but the biggest worry was the people on the planet. If they were in the process of evacuating, many would have escaped, but equally, there might potentially be billions of others on transports waiting for the vessels to fill up before they departed. If the Ax’Kol captured any such transports, they’d have all those lives neatly packaged up, just waiting to be slaughtered and dumped into the hold of the Engarvax carrier.

“We’ve received the key, Captain,” said Bishop. “I’ve also managed to convince the comms officer to provide routing data for other planets in the Human Federation.”

“Good work, Lieutenant,” said Grisham. “Now, I need you to gather as much information as you can about the situation on Loxor. I’m of a mind to attack the enemy fleet, but not if there’s nothing to be gained from it.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll get what you need,” said Bishop.

“I’ve been studying the feeds, Captain,” said Lopez. “The planet has suffered repeated attacks on its population centres, and the Fremont base has taken a pounding, but we’re too far away for me to determine much more.”

“Are there any signs of the evacuation transports?” asked Grisham. “Or the enemy warships?”

“Negative to both, sir,” said Lopez. “I’ve just finished running a query on the local comms satellites – only a few of them are operational – and I’ve obtained details of the local fleet. The battleship Eldan Blade is the command vessel, and it’s accompanied by the Pulveriser heavy, the Light of Foltan cruiser, and three new gen Tibors.”

“The Eldan Blade,” said Grisham, remembering his past run-ins with its commanding officer, Captain Avery. That was water under the bridge now. “Contact the battleship and see what you can find out, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir. The comms on the Oblasar aren’t able to penetrate the moon, so I’ll have route through one of those comms satellites.”

Grisham was filled with nervous energy and he gripped the warship’s controls so tightly his fingers began to ache. He looked over at Deneuve and he saw she was feeling the same.

“I don’t know if we turned up at the right time, or the wrong time, Captain,” she said.

“We’ll soon find out.”

“Sir, I have Captain Avery on the comms,” said Lopez. “Would you like to speak on an open channel?”

“Please,” said Grisham.

Avery’s voice came through speakers hidden somewhere around the bridge. The man was angry, though this time it wasn’t aimed at Grisham. They were both on the same side now.

“Your comms lieutenant tells me you’ve found yourself another alien spaceship, Captain Grisham,” said Avery. “An alien spaceship that makes your last one look like a playground toy.”

“That’s right,” said Grisham. “And I’m ready to launch an attack on the enemy fleet, but I need intel.”

“The Loxor fleet took out more than half of the enemy attack force, but now we’re down to the bare bones. We’re watching for an opportunity to so something – whatever the hell that might be – but I’m not kidding myself that the six warships we have parked behind the moon are going to have much of an impact.”

Grisham adjusted the feed so that he had a better view of the Loxor moon. It was nothing remarkable – just another cratered grey sphere – and it was almost fully visible around the planet’s cusp. “Are reinforcements due?”

Avery gave a bitter laugh. “We’ve got some on their way, but it won’t be enough. The Human Federation fleet is overcommitted, and it doesn’t help that the Senate agreed to send twenty percent of our fighting vessels to help the Kijol defend one of their worlds.”

Grishan didn’t know the circumstances which had led to the Senate allowing so many Human Federation warships to head off to assist the Kijol. It sounded at best like a risk too far, and at worst a catastrophic blunder. Although Grisham tried not to judge without having full knowledge of the circumstances, the subsequent arrival of the Ax’Kol at Loxor was certainly swaying him towards the catastrophic blunder evaluation.

“How long until those reinforcements arrive?” asked Grisham.

“Twelve hours,” said Avery. “And the Kijol have promised us some help, but that won’t be coming for another twenty hours or more.” He made an angry noise. “Trouble is, we don’t have twelve hours, let alone twenty. We’ve got eight billion people on a dozen transports, waiting to take off. You don’t have to ask me if I know what the Ax’Kol will do, Captain Grisham. I’ve been told all about it.”

Eight billion people. Shit.

“What happened to the other forty-two billion who used to live on the Loxor?” asked Grisham. “Did they get away?”

“Not all of them,” said Avery. “I don’t know where your warship is positioned, or what you can see, but the Ax’Kol are sweeping through our cities. The Kijol told us to deploy incendiaries and nukes, but hell—” For a moment Avery’s voice cracked. “I can’t give that order.”

Grisham felt the giddiness of déjà vu. His experience with dead Kijol worlds was what had shown him how terrible the Ax’Kol threat would be. The Kijol were loyal to their own, but they’d been driven to drop incendiaries on their own people. The aliens must have suffered so much before they’d been forced along that road, and here was Avery taking his first tentative steps towards that same unavoidable damnation.

“I’ve been told there’s an Engarvax carrier,” said Grisham. “It’ll be the biggest vessel in the attacking fleet, and it’s where the corpses are taken.”

“I’ve seen it,” said Avery.

“It’s a primary target,” said Grisham. “If we can knock it out, the Ax’Kol won’t have gained anything from their attack on Loxor.”

“You’re talking like the people on those shuttles are—”

“This is how it is when you fight the Ax’Kol,” said Grisham. “We have to deny them the resources they need.” Just saying the words made his stomach tighten with fury. “But be assured, I’m going to do everything possible to save the people in those transports. Can you send details of their positions?”

“I’ll have my comms team do that right away,” said Avery.

“And do you have any current intel on the positions of the enemy vessels?” asked Grisham. “And the last estimate we had for their numbers was more than twenty. Can you provide us with anything more precise?”

“We’ve counted twenty-three individual warships in the enemy fleet, including the carrier, and five which resemble the Voltran in size and mass,” said Avery. “There could be more, and equally it’s possible some took off into lightspeed.”

“What about the enemy positions?” Grisham repeated.

“We’re relying on a mish-mash of sources – the remains of the planetary satellite ring, ground stations, and whatever those of us hiding behind this damned moon are able to see,” said Avery. “The latest intel is that approximately ten Ax’Kol warships are over Fremont, with another eight – including that carrier - watching the evacuation shuttles. Those spaceships are at sufficient altitude that they have visibility on each other. The remainder of the enemy vessels are in constant motion.”

Grisham spoke with Captain Avery for a while longer, as he built up a picture of what was happening on Loxor. Already, he’d decided to initiate an attack on the enemy fleet and, when he informed Avery, quickly gained agreement that the last few members of the local fleet would assist, even though they’d all suffered varying degrees of damage from the Ax’Kol weaponry and psionics.

Eventually, when Grisham cut the channel, he felt like he knew as much as there was to know. By this point, Lieutenant Bishop had finished his interrogation of the ground officer. As Grisham had guessed, it was Avery who had the more extensive knowledge of the combat situation, and Bishop had nothing new to impart.

“Well folks,” said Grisham. “We all hoped this time would never come, but inside, we knew it was going to happen. The people on Loxor need us and we’re not going to fail them. A new war has come to humanity, but we’re not going to let these Ax’Kol bastards use our lives and our bodies to build their fleet. We’re going to stop them, and that begins here.”

“Hell yeah,” said Deneuve.

The die wasn’t yet cast, but it soon would be. Grisham breathed steadily and his usual battle calm descended upon him. The Ax’Kol thought they had control of the planet, but they hadn’t reckoned on the Oblasar. Grisham was going to make them pay.

“Lieutenant Lopez – speak to Captain Avery again,” he said. “I’d like the rest of the local fleet to hold their attack until the Oblasar is engaged over Fremont. This is the only vessel capable of soaking the firepower of so many enemy warships and I’d like their full attention on us.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that wise, Captain?” asked Deneuve. “We’ve only come through one fight since we took over the Oblasar – do you know this spaceship well enough to make a decision like that?”

“The Oblasar is strong enough, Commander. I feel it.”

Deneuve nodded. “Me too, sir. I just wanted to make sure you’d considered the alternatives.”

“It sounds as if what’s left of the local fleet is in a bad way,” said Grisham. “I’d rather they had an opportunity to fire upon opponents who are already engaged.”

“The arrangements are made, sir,” said Lopez a short time later. “Captain Avery accepts your primacy on this mission. Lieutenant Bishop and I will coordinate with the local fleet – the new gen Tibors only have a maximum velocity of 250 kilometres per second, so it would take them twenty-eight minutes on their Charos drives to travel from the moon to Loxor. That means they’ll all have to come in at lightspeed.”

“Which is an eight-minute warmup for a new gen Tibor,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

Grisham added up some numbers in his head, guessed at a few others, and combined them all. “Tell Captain Avery to wait two minutes and then begin a synched lightspeed warmup with the other members of the local fleet. Their target is five hundred klicks east of Fremont.”

“Yes, sir.”

The preparations were made – at least as much as they could be in a situation where time was of the essence.

“Lieutenant Adler, ready the Oblasar for lightspeed,” said Grisham. “Aim our arrival point directly over the Durantic Ocean in the south, at a two-hundred-klick altitude. We’ll see if we can knock out a couple of those roving enemy warships on our way to the Fremont base.”

“Yes, sir. Target destination set. Two-point-five minutes and we’ll enter lightspeed.”

The timer appeared on Grisham’s console and he watched the digits fall. His breathing was steady and his grip on the controls comfortable. Having witnessed the Oblasar’s immense firepower against the Exetran, Grisham felt sure this coming surprise attack on the Ax’Kol fleet would be devastating.

With a minute remaining, Lieutenant Lopez shouted out a warning. “Sir! The comms team on the Eldan Blade have detected the arrival of another new warship on Loxor! From the dimensions and mass estimates it’s either the Inojor or another vessel just like it.”

“Shit, not right now!” said Grisham angrily.

The arrival of the death factory was bad news but not necessarily because of that vessel’s offensive capabilities. No, the Inojor was here because the Ax’Kol intended turning Loxor into their forward base in Human Federation territory, just like they’d done at planet Leoxval. And the reason the Kijol had never been able to take their planet back was down to one thing…

As Grisham opened his mouth to say the words, a sphere of absolute darkness with a forty-thousand-kilometre diameter appeared around Loxor.

“Dark sphere,” he said.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Only moments ago, Grisham had been ready to teach the Ax’Kol a harsh lesson involving Zorl missiles and Avil-Tor repeaters. Now, he was staring at an impenetrable dark sphere, with eight billion of Loxor’s inhabitants trapped inside.

TWENTY-THREE

“Captain, we can’t lightspeed through the dark sphere,” said Lieutenant Adler. “Should I cancel the warmup?”

Grisham didn’t answer straightaway. His eyes went to the weapons status readout on his display, where two words caught his eye.

Rodor Lance.

“Yes please, Lieutenant Adler – cancel the warmup,” said Grisham. “And then begin preparations for another lightspeed jump – our new target destination is two thousand kilometres above the dark sphere.”

“Yes, sir,” Adler confirmed. “The warmup has commenced.”

“Commander Deneuve, it’s time we tested the Rodor Lance.”

“Yes, sir.”

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Lopez had been speaking with the Eldan Blade’s comms team. “Captain Avery is awaiting guidance, sir,” she said. “He’s heard about the dark sphere at Leoxval, and knows it’ll block a lightspeed transit.”

The local fleet hadn’t yet started their own lightspeed warmups – the dark sphere had appeared just as they’d have been on the brink of doing so. “Tell Captain Avery to commence his lightspeed warmup in one minute,” said Grisham, doing a quick recalculation of the timings. “The same plan as before. Maybe the Oblasar can break through the dark sphere, or maybe it can’t. We’ll soon find out.”

“Yes, sir.”

The renewed countdown continued, though this time, Grisham was feeling rather less sanguine than he had only minutes before. With the arrival of the Inojor at Loxor, and the creation of the dark sphere, the Ax’Kol had made a statement of intent. The Human Federation was now a declared target, and the enemy would stick around until humanity was made extinct.

“Twenty seconds!” yelled Adler.

Grisham sought the calmness within him and found it again. His seething mind became once more settled and he felt ready.

The lightspeed timer hit zero and the Oblasar completed a rapid in-out transit. In less than a second, the sensors were back online and gathering a feed. The dark sphere was directly ahead.

“This sphere is definitely created by the same tech as made the one at Leoxval, sir,” said Lopez.

“But now we’re in the Oblasar, not the Voltran,” said Grisham.

He rotated the warship so that it was facing across the surface of the dark sphere. Although he’d never seen the Rodor Lance in action, the name offered plenty of clues, and, even though the planet was lost, he didn’t want to cause it any additional damage if it was avoidable. When Grisham was satisfied with the position of the Oblasar, he gave the order.

“Commander Deneuve, fire the Rodor Lance into the dark sphere.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve. “Rodor Lance: fired.”

A thick line of red-orange energy, with a diameter of a thousand metres, jumped from the nose of the Oblasar and stabbed into the dark sphere. After two seconds, the Rodor Lance vanished, though not before it had drained twenty-five percent from the Oblasar’s mind batteries.

“The weapon has gone on cooldown, sir,” said Deneuve. “Two minutes.”

As she was speaking, the sound of the discharge reached the bridge. It was a whining sound that reminded Grisham of a gauss rifle, but scaled up millions of times. He hardly noticed it, since his attention was on the place where the Rodor Lance had struck the dark sphere. The shot had gone clean through and the area around the hole was shrivelling rapidly, as if the material of its making abhorred the energy of the Rodor Lance.

In moments, the thousand-metre hole had enlarged to twelve thousand metres, allowing plenty of room for the Oblasar to pass. Beyond the opening, the Durantic ocean was visible, as were parts of the southern continent, Rendas.

“Sir, the lance made an exit hole as well,” said Bishop. “I estimate the range of the weapon at twenty thousand klicks.”

“Let’s get this done,” said Grisham. “I doubt it’ll take the Ax’Kol long to figure out what’s happened.”

Neither did he know if the Inojor was able to seal up the hole created by the Rodor Lance, and he didn’t intend waiting and watching in order to find out. Grisham requested power from the Kalor drive and the Oblasar accelerated hard towards the opening in the dark sphere.

Still gaining velocity, the warship emerged into the planet’s sky at a twelve-thousand-kilometre altitude, having accomplished a feat the Kijol had been unable to manage in more than seventy years of trying. Grisham aimed the Oblasar low. His eyes roved across the feeds, as he searched for Ax’Kol warships. In the background, he could hear Lieutenant Lopez updating the officers of the local fleet.

“Five minutes until the local fleet joins us,” said Lieutenant Adler.

“There!” shouted Bishop. “Two enemy cruisers north of our position.”

Two red dots appeared on Grisham’s tactical, though he also had a visual on the Ax’Kol warships. The two cruisers were at a one-thousand-kilometre altitude and accelerating north towards the Fremont base. Grisham could tell at once that the Ax’Kol knew of the breach in the dark sphere.

“Commander Deneuve, blow those enemy vessels to pieces,” Grisham ordered.

While he’d taken care with the Rodor Lance, Grisham and his crew had already agreed that some casualties were inevitable as a result of their actions. Balanced against the eight billion people on the evacuation shuttles, there was little room for tiptoeing around. Debris was going to impact and there was no feasible way to avoid it.

“Yes, sir. Avil-Tor repeaters set to automatic. Forward Zorl clusters one to four, targeted at enemy vessel #1 and fired. Starboard Zorl clusters one to four, targeted at enemy vessel #2 and fired.” Deneuve counted softly down from three. “Forward Zorl clusters five to eight, targeted at enemy vessel #1 and fired. Starboard Zorl clusters five to eight, targeted at enemy vessel #2 and fired.”

The missiles raced out from their clusters, but already the Avil-Tor repeater slugs were pounding into the enemy spaceships. Dozens of tracer lines connected the Oblasar to the two Ax’Kol warships as they fled across the Rendas coastline. Lieutenant Bishop had one of the feeds zoomed on the easternmost enemy warship, and on that feed, Grisham saw the cruiser’s hull crumpling beneath the torrent of projectiles.

However, the Ax’Kol were not ready to go down without a fight. Lines of blue-white energy appeared around the Oblasar for a split-second. The energy shield vanished for a moment, before it was activated again.

“Psionic: decay attacks, Captain,” said Lieutenant Kinsey. “And weak ones, judging by how little effect they had on our mind batteries.”

In the short time since their launch, the first wave of Zorl missiles had streaked through the planet’s atmosphere in pursuit of their targets. The warheads were already glowing orange from atmospheric friction and Grisham watched as they closed in on the Ax’Kol spaceships.

Punisher fire raked through the skies, and several of the Zorls were trapped in a psionic: slow. Not all were affected – as Grisham had already learned from the engagement with the Exetran, the Oblasar’s missiles were designed to shrug off psionic countermeasures, and their armoured shells were resistant to Punisher fire. Fifteen or more Zorl missiles struck enemy target #1 and a similar number detonated against enemy target #2.

The explosions were vast and both of the Ax’Kol warships were lost in the midst of the plasma fires. It was clear at once that the two cruisers were out of action, and any of Grisham’s doubts were extinguished by the detonations of the next two waves of Zorl missiles. Pieces of debris were hurled in every direction and they began their long descent towards the planet’s surface.

As easy as that, two vessels from the enemy fleet were destroyed. It was a good, early result, even though Grisham hadn’t been expecting much of a challenge from the smaller warships at Loxor. The proof, or otherwise, of the Oblasar’s capabilities would come soon, when the warship faced the enemy forces gathered above Fremont.

In his head, Grisham ran through the intel from the local fleet. Aside from the ten Ax’Kol spaceships at Fremont, the other eight or so which were guarding the grounded evacuation transports would almost certainly join the combat. Maybe they’d leave a couple of warships behind to ensure the shuttles didn’t make a run for it, but that would make them easy targets for the incoming local defence fleet.

At a twenty-kilometre altitude, Grisham levelled out the Oblasar. The Durantic ocean was such a dark, threatening shade of blue that it was almost grey, and the sensors picked out the high waves which rolled across the surface. Far ahead, the southern coastline of Rendas was coming into sight, and the burning pieces of Ax’Kol debris were like comets in the deep blue of the sky.

A short time later, the Oblasar crossed over the Rendas coastline. East and west, Grisham saw large cities, the names of which he couldn’t remember. Smoke drifted lazily upwards, while a pall of it hung low to the ground. From five million kilometres out in space, the destruction wrought upon the planet had seemed remote, while here at a twenty-kilometre altitude, the reality of it was all too apparent.

“Four minutes until the local fleet joins us,” said Adler.

“We should have visibility on the Ax’Kol vessels at Fremont in less than thirty seconds, Captain,” said Lopez. “The exact time will depend on their altitudes.”

“Let’s go lower,” said Grisham, who intended his initial attack to be a hit-and-run. “Five klicks should do it.”

He sent the Oblasar towards the ground. While five kilometres was five kilometres, whether in a shuttle or a fifteen-thousand-metre construction like the Oblasar, it nevertheless seemed to Grisham as if the undersides of his warship were near to scraping the ground. While his geographical knowledge of southern Loxor was woefully lacking, he was sure there’d be mountains somewhere on this continent, and he watched closely.

“Ax’Kol troops,” said Bishop, his voice tight. “Starboard feed.”

Grisham’s eyes flicked over. A road – more like a main highway – ran north-to-south, with abandoned cars visible here and there. In the yellow fields adjacent, a group of Ax’Kol – thirty or more in total – were heading for a village a few kilometres north-east.

Suddenly, an orange speck flashed across the feed and the Ax’Kol vanished in the midst of a huge plasma explosion, which hurled thousands of tons of soil into the air.

“Oops,” said Deneuve. “My finger slipped.”

“Just don’t leave us a missile short when we reach Fremont, Commander,” said Grisham dryly.

“No, sir, I won’t.”

Holding the Oblasar steady on its course, Grisham tried not to let the sights affect him. The warship flew directly over a city – Tolvos, he remembered – which had been reduced almost to ruins. Smoke was thick everywhere and many fires blazed unchecked. Amongst the rubble-choked streets, the Ax’Kol moved with purpose as they hunted down those residents who’d either been too slow to respond to the evacuation call, or who’d simply not wanted to leave their homes.

This time, Deneuve’s finger didn’t slip, and soon, Tolvos was dwindling on the rear feeds. Grisham’s anger wasn’t dwindling and it threatened to become an inferno. He breathed deeply and longed for the moment when combat would begin again.

“We should see the first of the enemy warships anytime from now, Captain,” said Lopez.

Grisham tuned out the distractions and watched the forward feeds. He recognized this area of Loxor far more than he had the southern edge of Rendas. The Fremont base was surrounded by cities and towns, and it was likely some of those would soon be crushed by impacting wreckage. He couldn’t let the thought of it slow him down or affect him – not right now.

“Enemy Indredalus sighted, Captain,” said Lopez.

“And one cruiser,” said Bishop.

As soon as Grisham saw the two enemy spaceships, up high in the atmosphere and circling over the as-yet unseen Fremont base, Grisham banked east. “Commander Deneuve, let them know we’re here.”

“Yes, sir.”

It turned out that the Ax’Kol already knew. The Oblasar’s energy shield lit up once, twice, and then for a third time. The mind batteries, which had been recharging since the Rodor Lance punched through the dark sphere, dropped again.

“Death missile launch detected from the Indredalus,” said Lopez.

“Same from the cruiser, Captain,” said Bishop. “We are also being targeted by Punisher fire.”

Gauss slugs from the two enemy warships struck the Oblasar in their hundreds. The impacts failed to activate the energy shield, though Grisham wasn’t too concerned. He’d seen the scarring on the Oblasar’s hull plating and he knew the vessel was capable of shrugging off Punisher attacks without suffering any significant damage.

“Avil-Tor guns set to auto,” said Deneuve. “Portside Zorl missile clusters one to four: targeted at enemy Indredalus and fired. Portside missile clusters five to eight: targeted at enemy cruiser and fired.” She counted to three again. “Topside Zorl missile clusters one to eight: targeted at enemy Indredalus and fired.”

“I’ve detected a second Indredalus and another two cruisers on the northern horizon, Captain,” said Lopez. “They’re heading our way and fast.”

“Acknowledged,” said Grisham, banking the Oblasar so that its nose was pointing south-east. “Give them the rear Zorl clusters, Commander Deneuve.”

As Grisham was speaking, psionic slow fields trapped many of the portside-launched Zorl missiles. About a third of the missiles continued towards their targets, but a moment later, several of these were also brought to a halt mid-flight. Grisham cursed at the sight and he guessed that one of the newly appeared Ax’Kol warships had been responsible.

Even so, a reduced quantity of Zorl missiles evaded both of the psionic: slow fields and the Punisher fire. Several missiles struck the Indredalus and created a gratifyingly expansive explosion, while the cruiser was hit a total of three times. Grisham’s snap judgement was that the cruiser would survive the blasts. The enemy vessel banked and accelerated north.

Meanwhile, the Avil-Tor repeaters did a remarkable job on the incoming Death missiles, smashing dozens of them into pieces. Seven or eight of the Ax’Kol warheads made it through and they exploded against the Oblasar’s energy shield, the impacts barely troubling the mind batteries.

“Rear clusters one to four: targeted at second enemy Indredalus and fired,” said Deneuve. “Rear clusters five and six, targeted at enemy cruiser #1 and fired. Rear clusters seven and eight, targeted at first enemy Indredalus and fired.”

While the first Indredalus had survived the portside wave of missiles, another ninety-six from the topside clusters were still in flight. Again, many of these were trapped in psionic: slow fields. Those warheads which escaped were subjected to another slow and then another. Each time, the quantity of missiles unaffected by the Ax’Kol psionics was reduced. And yet, the Indredalus took another dozen strikes across its starboard flank and undersides.

“Three minutes left before Captain Avery and the others join us,” said Adler. “If it’s of any interest, I reckon some of the Zorl missiles are just flat-out immune to being slowed.” He cursed. “I wish I knew more about the tech behind it.”

Grisham didn’t much like observational learning either, but he certainly enjoyed witnessing the outcome for the first Indredalus. Much of the Ax’Kol battleship was engulfed in bright flames, but Grisham could still see that most of its starboard flank had been ripped out by the Zorl explosions. In addition, the vessel appeared to have bent midway along, as if it had suffered so much structural damage that it was on the verge of breaking in two.

The combat was heating up and the quantity of information was becoming harder for Grisham to process. Almost simultaneously, the stricken cruiser and the burning Indredalus were hit by the missiles from the Oblasar’s rear clusters. This time, the cruiser, which hadn’t made it anywhere close to the northern horizon, was hit by six or seven missiles, with catastrophic results. The vessel didn’t entirely break up, but a huge section of its stern was torn open, and its forward travel turned into a long, flaming arc towards the ground.

“Engine failure on the enemy cruiser,” Adler confirmed. “It’s going to crash down.”

There was no need for a verbal explanation as to the fate of the first Indredalus. Zorl missiles from the Oblasar’s rear clusters thundered into the crippled vessel and it separated along the bend which Grisham had noticed before.

“There’s a third enemy battleship heading our way from the north, Captain,” said Lopez. “Plus a couple more cruisers.”

The Oblasar was already heading south-east and Grisham held onto his existing course, while increasing the warship’s velocity. Eight red dots were now on the tactical, seven of which were north and one of which was coming in from the south.

Grisham’s hit and run tactics had seen the destruction of two enemy warships, in addition to the two he and his crew had destroyed over the south of Rendas. Now, the Ax’Kol fleet was in pursuit and Grisham was intending to give the aliens a real bad time.

With projectiles from the Oblasar’s rear Avil-Tor guns pounding into their hulls, the Ax’Kol fleet gave chase. Never once had it left Grisham’s mind that soon he was going to run into both the Engarvax and the Inojor.

Then, he’d find out exactly how well the Oblasar’s mind batteries would cope against the psionic: decay attacks from those two vessels.

TWENTY-FOUR

As Grisham maintained his south-eastern course, the Ax’Kol pursuers went high to give themselves the visibility they needed to unleash their missiles and their psionics. Time and again, the Oblasar’s energy shield absorbed the psionic: decay attacks, while the Avil-Tors ripped through the Death missiles. When Grisham’s eye went to the Oblasar’s core utilisation gauge he noticed how high it was from all of the onboard hardware tapping into the warship’s processing cluster.

“Death missile impacts on our topside plating,” said Lopez. “Seventy-two further missiles are incoming – six waves in total.”

So far, the mind batteries were coping with the drain and Grisham wasn’t feeling too much pressure. He’d always intended the opening exchanges to be just a way of drawing the enemy fire onto the Oblasar, and he was confident his warship was operating well within its capabilities.

A positive from the Ax’Kol’s desire to maintain line-of-sight was that the Oblasar was able to return fire of its own. Commander Deneuve launched missiles from the topside clusters and, when Grisham obliged her by angling the Oblasar so that its starboard flank was partly facing the pursuing enemy warships, she launched from those clusters too.

In addition, the Ax’Kol spaceship which had been coming from the south – a cruiser that strongly resembled a cut-down version of the Voltran – was treated to forty-eight missiles from the Oblasar’s forward Zorl clusters, as well as a heavy bombardment from almost sixty of the Avil-Tor guns.

The result was not pretty for the enemy ship. First, its hull was crushed by high-velocity gauss projectiles, and then it was turned into a fireball by Zorl detonations. The cruiser had been on an intercept course and Grisham saw what was left of the vessel as the Oblasar raced by.

“That wreckage is going to crash into the suburbs of Pevaro,” said Lieutenant Bishop, indicating a mid-sized city a few hundred kilometres north. “I hope everyone evacuated.”

“Not a chance,” said Grisham under his breath.

“Two minutes before Captain Avery and the rest of the local fleet execute their lightspeed jumps,” said Adler.

“I can confirm that the holes we made in the dark sphere are still in place, Captain,” said Lopez.

Had it not been for the technology in the sensor arrays, the openings would have been more or less invisible. As it was, the sensors highlighted the irregular holes made by the Rodor Lance, and Grisham thought they might have grown even further since he’d first brought the Oblasar into the sphere.

“Let’s gather up these Ax’Kol,” said Grisham, bringing the warship around so that it was heading west, rather than south-east.

The enemy vessels altered course to follow and they continued unloading their missiles and psionics. So far, the Ax’Kol attacks had been ineffective against the might of the Oblasar, but soon, Grisham was sure his warship would be under bombardment from many additional sources. That would be the real test.

“Topside Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at enemy Indredalus #2 and fired,” said Deneuve. “Topside Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted at the same vessel and fired. Reload complete on the rear clusters.”

“Hold the Rodor Lance for the Engarvax or the Inojor, Commander,” said Grisham. “Ideally I’d like to put a wide hole straight through the death factory, nose to stern.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve. “Rear Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at enemy Indredalus #3 and fired.”

Grisham began altering the Oblasar’s heading gradually towards the north. His intention was to return to the Fremont base, gathering up as many Ax’Kol vessels as possible on the way. Then, if everything went to plan, the six remaining vessels from the local fleet would exit lightspeed and have a few unmolested seconds for their sensors to come online and for them to fire their first salvoes of missiles.

Having faced and defeated numerous Ax’Kol vessels since he and his crew had recovered the Voltran, Grisham could not recall once witnessing anything like subtlety in the tactics of the enemy cruisers or battleships. Opponents of Engarvax status and higher were a different matter, but none of those were currently in sensor sight.

Sure enough, as Grisham banked north, the warships in pursuit adjusted to follow. One Indredalus and a cruiser were burning from plasma missile strikes, while another Indredalus had dropped off the horizon, and Lieutenant Adler believed its engines had failed.

As the chase continued, the Avil-Tor guns fired nonstop. The repeaters were so capable and so numerous that they could knock out entire waves of missiles and then retarget on the Ax’Kol warships. On one of the peripheral feeds, Grisham saw the nose section of an enemy cruiser burst open beneath the impact force of several thousand Avil-Tor projectiles. He’d never seen the like before.

“One minute until the local fleet is here, Captain,” said Adler.

“We’re a couple of kills down on where I’d hoped to be,” said Grisham. “That’s what happens when you’re figuring out new hardware.”

It was time to step it up a gear. Until now, Grisham had been holding his warship’s velocity down, to keep the enemy interested. With the arrival of the local fleet imminent, he requested extra from the engines and the Oblasar surged for the horizon with the familiar, electrifying howl of its Kalor drive.

“We have to locate the Inojor and the Engarvax quickly,” he said. “Otherwise they’ll make mincemeat out of the local fleet.”

The Loxor surface sped by in a blur of fields and hills. Grisham didn’t dare fly too low at this velocity and he brought the Oblasar up to fifteen thousand metres. From this vantage, he could see smoke far to the north, right where the Fremont base and its satellite towns and cities were situated.

Having been surprised by the sudden acceleration of the Oblasar, the Ax’Kol pursuers had flown higher yet in order to maintain visibility. The tactical was showing twelve targets in total and, while the psionic attacks were no longer so frequent, the enemy magazines showed no signs they were running out of missiles. Wave upon wave of them streaked towards the Oblasar, while the Avil-Tors continued smashing them into pieces. A few of the Death missiles got through and each time, the energy shield absorbed both the impact and the explosive forces.

“Our mind batteries are below fifty percent, Captain,” said Adler.

The status report caught Grisham by surprise and he glanced at the readout on his own screen. “Damnit,” he said. “Death by a thousand cuts.”

“And the Rodor Lance will drain another twenty-five percent from the mind batteries, sir,” Deneuve reminded him.

“Maybe keep it for the Inojor,” said Grisham. “We’ll handle the Engarvax with missiles.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The local fleet will be here in less than twenty seconds,” said Adler.

“I can see the Fremont base on the horizon, Captain,” said Bishop. “Damn, it’s a mess.”

Grisham had expected bad, but what he saw was worse. The installation, which had always seemed like such a permanent fixture – a bastion of the Human Federation - had been almost completely flattened.

Such was the devastation that Grisham hardly recognized what he was looking at. The huge sprawl of buildings, from the research labs, to the administration areas, the accommodation blocks and the warehouses, were effectively gone, replaced by blackened rubble, torn rebar, buckled alloy, and smoke. Bomb craters in their thousands were visible everywhere across the site.

Having piloted the Voltran long enough, Grisham knew the Ax’Kol battleships didn’t carry bombs, and he wondered if perhaps the Engarvax carriers held explosives in their underside bays.

Elsewhere, the main shipbuilding complex had been wrecked by more bombs, such that every one of the construction trenches had collapsed. All bar one of those trenches had been occupied at the time of the Ax’Kol’s arrival, and the dust-covered hulls of those incomplete warships were burned and cratered from missile attacks and bomb detonations.

Nor had Admiral Danner’s new shipyard to the east escaped the bombardment. The story here was the same – broken concrete and warships that would never make it out into space. As he gazed upon it, Grisham felt sadness and a clenching in guts.

“Engarvax sighted!” shouted Lopez. “It’s coming in from the north-west at a six-hundred-klick altitude!”

The carrier was heading straight towards the Oblasar and Grisham’s anger was so great he wanted nothing more than to order Commander Deneuve to put a Rodor hole in the enemy vessel.

“Missiles only, Commander,” he said, through gritted teeth.

As Grisham was giving the order, the Oblasar’s energy shield activated and held for more than a second. No missiles had impacted, and he was sure the Engarvax had discharged a chain of psionic: decays. The mind battery gauge fell a couple of percent.

“Forward Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at enemy carrier and fired,” said Deneuve. “Topside Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted at enemy carrier and fired. Rear Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at enemy cruiser and fired.”

“The local fleet have completed their lightspeed transits!” said Lopez. “I’ve added their locations to your screen.”

Grisham’s eyes jumped to the tactical. The six remaining members of the local fleet had exited lightspeed in the agreed position, five hundred kilometres east of Fremont and at a one-hundred-kilometre altitude. The bulk of the Ax’Kol fleet was currently south, which meant the Human Federation warships should have the few seconds they needed for their sensors to come online. Already, the Eldan Blade was accelerating from its arrival position.

“Rear Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted at enemy Indredalus #4 and fired,” said Deneuve.

“Our first wave of forward-launched Zorl missiles have been partially trapped in a psionic: slow,” said Bishop. “Only three confirmed impacts on the carrier – that vessel is packing a bunch of Punisher turrets.”

“The Oblasar has suffered eight missile impacts,” said Lopez. “The enemy fleet have not yet targeted the local fleet.”

The early signs were that Grisham’s plan was working. All he needed was for the local fleet to wreck a handful of Ax’Kol warships before the enemy could respond, and then, hopefully, the Oblasar would be able to handle what was left.

Grisham banked the Oblasar, so that its loaded starboard clusters were aimed towards the Engarvax. His eyes never stopped moving as his brain did its best to pull the chaos of a multi-warship engagement into a semblance of order. Three Ax’Kol warships – including Indredalus #4 - to the south were ablaze, and at least two others were being pummelled by Avil-Tor slugs.

Meanwhile, Death missiles raced in their dozens through the skies, leaving blurred trails of movement across the feeds. Those warheads which were struck by Avil-Tor projectiles burst apart in glittering shards of alloy.

North, the Engarvax had suffered minor damage from the three Zorl detonations, though Avil-Tor impacts had already disfigured the enemy vessel’s nose section. In response, the carrier’s control minds had targeted their Punisher guns on the Oblasar, and judging by the activity of the energy shield, those same minds were making extensive use of their psionics.

East, the warships of the local fleet had emerged from lightspeed blindness and they were accelerating south-west. Although a Human Federation battleship was lacking when placed in direct comparison to a Kijol Eternus, they were still formidable vessels. Fury missiles spilled from the Eldan Blade’s launch clusters, and its Gatler repeaters tore into the waves of Death missiles. At the same time, scrambler drones poured in their hundreds from the battleship’s topside ejection chutes and they accelerated in all directions, their transmitters spewing false data to fool the enemy guidance systems.

Likewise, the Pulveriser and the Light of Foltan didn’t hold back. Their own missiles sped high above the planet’s surface towards the enemy fleet, and yet more Gatler fire filled the sky with criss-crossing tracer lines.

As he watched it unfold, Grisham felt a surge of exhilaration, unlike anything he’d known before. Another enemy cruiser vanished in the light of fifty or more plasma explosions, while the damaged Indredalus had been brought to the brink of failure.

“The enemy are down to twelve ships, plus the Engarvax and the Inojor,” said Lopez.

“We have to keep pushing,” said Grisham.

“Nuke launches detected from all three Tibors,” said Bishop. “Let’s hope they make it through the Punisher fire.”

Grisham adjusted the Oblasar’s heading so that it was aimed directly north. While he had no doubt the Ax’Kol had committed almost all of their warships at Loxor to this engagement, he was feeling distinctly uneasy about the missing Inojor.

“Six of our evacuation shuttles are parked north, Captain,” said Lopez, reading his intent. “From our current altitude, they should be visible any time now.”

The land north of Fremont was occupied by a mixture of farms, towns, cities, and lakes. Way off on the horizon, Grisham saw the first sign of a major impact in the form of a high-sided crater. Beyond that, the city of Epestar had been one of the larger evacuation hubs on the planet. The shuttles there were meant to take the last of the population away, hence they hadn’t yet departed when the Ax’Kol arrived.

“Nuclear detonation,” Lopez announced.

The rear feeds turned bright white, though Grisham’s screen automatically attenuated so that he didn’t have to squint. The explosion grew rapidly and, according to the tactical, a couple of Ax’Kol cruisers had been caught somewhere in the blast. Whether they’d survive the explosion or not, Grisham didn’t know.

“Topside Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at Engarvax carrier and fired,” said Deneuve. “And the topside Avil-Tors are giving its control minds something to think about.”

“Nuclear launches detected from all three Tibors,” said Lopez. “They only carry two each, so that’s their lot.”

“Twelve confirmed Zorl impacts on the carrier, plus a bunch of Fury detonations,” said Bishop. “Take that, you assholes.”

Grisham was well and truly in the zone, but even so, there was only so much his brain could absorb at once. He noticed that the mind batteries were at forty percent, but with the local fleet’s Gatlers tearing through the enemy missiles, the quantity of detonations against the Oblasar’s energy shield had significantly lessened.

However, the Engarvax wasn’t out of the game yet, and its four control minds continued to target the Oblasar with psionic decays. The carrier was outclassed and Grisham knew from experience that it would be unable to sustain this level of psionic output for much longer – and that was assuming the Avil-Tor bombardment and the repeated Zorl blasts didn’t put it out of action first. Judging by the flames and the craters on the Engarvax’s hull, and by the huge indentation on its facing flank, the vessel wasn’t going to last much longer.

The carrier’s control minds had evidently arrived at the same conclusion. As the Oblasar continued north, the Engarvax accelerated diagonally upwards toward the south. The Rodor holes in the dark sphere were that way, and the enemy vessel was heading directly for the closest one.

“Topside Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at enemy carrier and fired,” said Deneuve.

“We aren’t giving chase,” said Grisham. “We have to find the Inojor.”

“There has been a second nuclear detonation,” Bishop confirmed. “I am unable to confirm if any enemy vessels were neutralised.”

“The local fleet is in pursuit of the Engarvax,” said Lopez. “I get the feeling Captain Avery sees this as his shot at redemption.”

Grisham only spared the rear feed the briefest of glances. On it, he saw all six vessels from the local fleet accelerating after the Engarvax. The Pulveriser and two of the Tibors were alight, while the Light of Foltan had suffered moderate damage. Somehow, the Eldan Blade was almost entirely unscathed and its missiles flew in undiminished quantities towards both the Engarvax and the other Ax’Kol warships.

Looking north again, Grisham now had a clear view of the impact crater he’d seen before. A huge piece of misshapen wreckage had come down vertically and thumped into the ground south of Epestar. Smoke rose from the still-hot alloy and the crater itself was littered with the ruins of the city’s suburbs, which had been obliterated by the impact force of the debris.

More of the city came into sight, and little of it remained intact. Just about every structure had been either completely demolished or brought to a state of near collapse, such that the roads and parks were lost beneath the pieces. It was devastating to see – another terrible crime to add to the seemingly never-ending list perpetrated by the Ax’Kol.

“The shuttles are parked north of Epestar,” said Lopez.

“Oh crap!” said Bishop. “Sir, the local fleet!”

Grisham drew his eyes away from the forward feeds and onto the rears. There, he saw that the Eldan Blade and the local fleet ships accompanying it had been struck by a psionic: decay of monumental strength. All six of the warships were crumbling and particles of disintegrated alloy trailed behind them so thickly it was like a fog.

Only one spaceship could have unleashed an attack so deadly and Grisham’s eyes hunted desperately for the Inojor.

TWENTY-FIVE

The Ax’Kol death factory had finally joined the fight and it raced over the western horizon, accompanied by an Indredalus battleship. At twelve thousand metres in length, the Inojor was shorter than the Oblasar, much greater in volume, and perhaps equivalent in mass. Despite the parity, Grisham had felt the control mind on the enemy warship, and now he’d seen what it could do to defeat its opponents.

In a split second, Grisham sized up the state of the engagement. Commander Deneuve had been firing the Oblasar’s Zorl missiles as quickly as they would reload. Because of this, and because of the efforts of the local fleet, the Ax’Kol forces had been heavily depleted, and those which remained were either alight or with their hulls weakened by Avil-Tor impacts. As a consequence of the sustained combat, most of the Oblasar’s missile clusters were mid-reload, except for those on the warship’s underside.

South, the Engarvax’s attempt to escape had failed and the burning wreckage of the carrier was falling towards Loxor. The three pursuing Tibors had broken up entirely, but the decayed remains of the Pulveriser and the Light of Foltan were heading the same way as the Engarvax. When these warships hit the planet, the result would be calamitous. There again, Grisham knew that Loxor was effectively lost for good. He couldn’t imagine the Human Federation would ever attempt to repopulate this world.

Elsewhere, the Eldan Blade was a ragged mess, and the particles it was trailing before were now mixed with larger pieces of fragmenting alloys. The battleship’s propulsion was still operational, though the vessel was clearly labouring. Captain Avery was attempting to pilot the vessel into the still-blossoming mushroom clouds from the nuclear explosions. If he could make it into the smoke and the dust, maybe he’d escape.

Then, for the first time, Grisham caught a view of what he was fighting for. The Epestar civilian spaceport was huge, with several different landing fields, their concrete surfaces cracked and broken from the impact south. Hovering at an altitude of a hundred or so meters, were numerous large transports, each capable of accommodating a billion people or more, albeit not with any degree of comfort. Around these larger shuttles were thousands of smaller vessels, all of them trapped here by the enemy fleet.

The sights didn’t get any better. Standing in their thousands on the ground below the transports, were Ax’Kol troops. The enemy soldiers were motionless, and Grisham could imagine their empty faces pointing up at the Human Federation spaceships. Behind the Ax’Kol soldiers were the corpses of those killed by the aliens, and then raised in order to commit murder against those of their own species. These corpses numbered in the millions and Grisham wished he could put them out of their misery.

And here was the Inojor. It wasn’t the instigator of the Ax’Kol’s war against the living, but it was the nearest thing to it at Loxor. The blood pulsed in Grisham’s temples as the death factory and its accompanying battleship raced towards the Oblasar.

“Our energy shield absorbed a psionic: decay,” said Lieutenant Adler. “That was a big one.”

“Missile launch detected from the Indredalus,” said Lopez.

“We’ve been struck by another psionic: decay.”

“Waiting on reload for the topside and forward Zorl clusters,” said Deneuve.

“Try the undersides, Commander,” said Grisham. He hauled on the controls and the Oblasar rolled about its longitudinal axis.

“Yes, sir. Underside Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at the Inojor and fired. What about the Rodor Lance, Captain?”

“Soon,” said Grisham.

The Oblasar was still heading north and the Inojor continued its approach from the west, at a twenty-kilometre higher altitude and with the Indredalus sitting a few thousand metres off its starboard flank, and approximately ten kilometres behind the larger vessel.

“Underside Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted at the Inojor and fired.”

“The first wave of underside missiles was partially caught in a psionic: slow,” said Lopez. “I’ve detected four Zorl detonations on the Inojor.”

Four successful strikes out of forty-eight launches wasn’t going to bring the death factory down anytime soon, but Grisham had other plans. He rolled the Oblasar once more around its longitudinal axis, and instructed the vessel to climb vertically. As it did so, the Avil-Tor repeaters tore into the inbound Death missiles, while both the Inojor and the Indredalus targeted their psionics at the Oblasar.

“Our mind batteries are at thirty percent,” said Adler. “They aren’t getting a chance to recharge.”

“Give me that Rodor shot, Captain,” said Deneuve. “While there’s time.”

“You’ll get your shot, Commander,” said Grisham through clenched teeth.

The Oblasar’s propulsion howled and the spaceship climbed with incredible mass-defying vigour. As the vessel rose, Grisham wrestled with the controls, bringing the nose around so that it was a facing towards the Inojor. So focused was he on this single task that all the other details of the engagement dimmed into the background. Grisham had bitten off more than he could chew, that much was certain. Equally, he had no regrets and he’d seen a way to pull this back from the brink.

“Seven Death missile impacts on our shield,” said Bishop. “And we’ve absorbed another psionic: decay.”

“The mind batteries are at twenty-eight percent, Captain,” said Adler.

“Ready, Commander,” said Grisham.

“I’m ready,” said Deneuve. She’d seen what Grisham was intending.

The Inojor was now within a hundred kilometres of the Oblasar. Grisham could almost feel the arrogance of its control mind, as it closed in on what it believed was a victory.

A final correction brought the Inojor into the sights of the Rodor Lance. If Grisham had gauged it right, the coming shot would be a double-blow to the Ax’Kol.

“Fire!” he ordered.

Deneuve’s finger was already on the button. “Rodor Lance: fired,” she said.

For the second time since Grisham had taken command of the Oblasar, he witnessed the colossal extremes of its firepower. The Rodor Lance stabbed out from its nose housing with incredible speed. It went clean through the Inojor at an angle, which ensured the damage to the vessel’s interior was maximised, and continued across the surface of Loxor, before cutting through the dark sphere.

The moment the beam cut out, Grisham increased the Oblasar’s altitude, hoping his plan had worked.

Commander Deneuve wasn’t leaving anything to chance. “Forward Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at the Inojor and fired.”

“Our mind batteries are down to three percent, Captain,” said Adler. “I don’t think our shield will absorb another psionic: decay from the Inojor.”

Grisham didn’t say anything - he knew how it was. He stared unblinking at the forward feeds as the Oblasar continued to climb.

“Forward Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted at the Inojor and fired,” said Deneuve. “Reload complete on the portside clusters. Portside Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at enemy cruiser and fired. Portside Zorl clusters five to eight: targeted at Indredalus #4 and fired.”

Grisham listened to the launch confirmations, which were a reminder that the Ax’Kol still had other operational warships besides the Inojor and its escort. He continued to watch the forward feeds. In moments, the Oblasar had gained sufficient elevation for him to see the Indredalus on the far side of the death factory. Grisham’s heart thudded in his chest when he saw that the Ax’Kol battleship had been cut almost in two by the Rodor Lance.

“Forty-eight successful Zorl detonations on the Inojor!” yelled Bishop excitedly.

Approximately half of the warheads had struck the Inojor on its portside flank, while the rest had flown into the vast hole created by the Rodor Lance. The Zorl missiles exploded deep inside the death factory and the plasma flames roiled with fury.

“Give it another forty-eight, Commander,” snarled Grisham, sending the Oblasar into a steep dive, so the topside clusters would lock.

“Topside Zorl clusters one to four: targeted at the Inojor and fired,” said Deneuve.

This time, she’d aimed the entire salvo at the Rodor opening. No psionic: slow prevented the missiles from reaching their destination and the new explosions added to the flames from the previous detonations.

“Enemy cruiser down, and Indredalus #4 is out of action,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “There are no other Ax’Kol warships south of our position.”

Grisham wasn’t ready to let down his guard. Although the Inojor was no longer generating psionic attacks, its control mind could merely be dormant, rather than dead. Grisham attempted to reach out his own mind to discover which it was, before he belatedly remembered that his telepathic powers had been taken away from him.

“Commander Deneuve, make sure the Inojor is never coming back,” said Grisham.

“Yes, sir.”

“And keep watch for any Ax’Kol stragglers.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deneuve. She launched another wave of Zorl missiles at the Inojor.

“The dark sphere has vanished, Captain!” said Bishop. “The generator on the Inojor has failed.”

As the sphere collapsed, sunlight returned to this part of Loxor. It was early morning and the light shone upon the ruins of the world.

“Lieutenant Lopez, contact the pilots on the evacuation shuttles,” said Grisham. “Tell them to hold where they are until I give the order to depart.”

“Yes, sir.”

The enormity of everything was beginning to sink in, and Grisham let his gaze linger on the plasma-wreathed hull of the Inojor. With its propulsion in a state of total failure, the death factory was falling towards Loxor, along with many other Ax’Kol warships which Grisham and his crew had taken care of.

Neither the Pulveriser nor the Light of Foltan had yet impacted and there was nothing Grisham could do to prevent it happening. The best hope was that the life support units on the warships were still operational. He looked at the comms window on the left-hand side of his viewscreen. The Eldan Blade’s receptor was showing red, which Grisham hoped was a result of gamma ray interference, rather than because the battleship was lost.

“Our mind batteries are up to fifteen percent and climbing,” said Adler.

“Should I give the Inojor another salvo, Captain?” asked Deneuve. “It looks done.”

“Hold fire, Commander,” said Grisham.

“Are we going hunting for the Ax’Kol, Captain?” asked Deneuve. “Hopefully we got them all but—”

“One moment, Commander, I’m adding up the numbers to see if we missed any,” said Bishop. He didn’t take long. “The known kills from our engagement exactly tallies up with the intel we received from Captain Avery.”

“Interrogate the planetary monitors anyway,” said Grisham. “See if they’ve detected any more Ax’Kol.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Having come so far, I don’t want to start running circuits of Loxor and leave these evacuation shuttles unguarded,” said Grisham.

“The planetary monitor ring has been partly taken out by the Ax’Kol, but the operational satellites are tracking no targets, Captain,” said Bishop.

Grisham watched the feeds for a few moments longer. All he saw was death and destruction. No Ax’Kol warships appeared on the horizon.

“It’s time,” he said. “Lieutenant Lopez, order the evacuation shuttles to head for space. They should spread out to minimise the losses to a surprise psionic: decay attack. We’ll do what we can to keep them safe.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll pass on the order.”

Grisham well knew the stress under which the crews of those transports would be operating. What he could only imagine was the terror of the civilians onboard. Their peaceful lives had been taken away from them by a species who desired only violence and death. At times like this Grisham was almost glad he didn’t have much of his family left.

The main interplanetary transports lifted off, as did the many smaller vessels in the Epestar spaceport. At first, the spaceships seemed to climb slowly, as if their pilots didn’t quite believe they were on the brink of escape. Then, their velocities increased as they headed for space.

“Some of those smaller vessels have a lightspeed warmup time in excess of twenty-five minutes,” said Adler. “We’re going to be here for a long time. Not that I have anything better to be getting on with.”

“I don’t think I want to see what all that falling wreckage does to the planet,” said Deneuve.

“You and me both, Commander,” said Grisham.

His eyes shifted of their own accord to the underside feeds. The Epestar landing field was now empty of spacecraft, but the Ax’Kol soldiers had gone nowhere, nor had the millions of corpses. Grisham glanced to his right and saw that Deneuve was staring at the same place. She looked across, the question writ large on her face.

Grisham nodded. “Incinerate them, Commander.”

Without saying a word, Deneuve launched missiles from two of the Oblasar’s underside clusters. The missiles sped to their targets and exploded after a few seconds. When the flames died down, the Ax’Kol were gone, and the corpses of the murdered had been put to rest. Grisham was sure the other cities on Loxor would be similarly afflicted, but he couldn’t visit them all. Perhaps, the military would send a few warships here to lay waste to Loxor with incendiaries, just like the Kijol had learned to do. In the war against the Ax’Kol, there was little room for sentiment.

The minutes went by and Grisham held the Oblasar a thousand kilometres above Loxor, with the evacuation vessels at fifteen hundred kilometres. From here, the planet’s moon glowed softly as it reflected the light from the Altarn-4 star, and the shuttles, large and small, stood in sharp relief again the cratered sphere four hundred thousand kilometres beyond.

Even when the dedicated evacuation shuttles launched into lightspeed, carrying more than seven billion people away, Grisham couldn’t bring himself to relax. Gradually, as the smaller transports also vanished from the skies of Loxor, he began to accept that the mission was drawing to a close.

Twenty-nine minutes after it began the warmup of its lightspeed drive, the last of the shuttles escaped from Loxor.

Grisham closed his eyes and permitted himself a smile.

TWENTY-SIX

“Contact Shesa-2,” said Grisham. “I’d like to speak with Senator Maynard.”

“Yes, sir,” said Lopez. “A comm from an HF warship takes four hours to reach Shesa-2 from Loxor. I don’t know how good the transmission amplifiers are on the Oblasar, but I expect we’ll be waiting several hours for a response.”

“We’re not leaving Loxor until we have some guidance,” said Grisham. He forced himself into a better mood. “I know it’s hard to draw positives from losing a planet, but we destroyed the Exetran and the Inojor. That’s got to have hurt the Ax’Kol.”

“I think you’re underestimating the extent of what we’ve done, Captain,” said Deneuve. “We haven’t just defeated a few Ax’Kol warships, we’ve kicked the crap out of an entire enemy fleet – including five of their battleships – as well as destroying two primary vessels which we believe to be hundreds of millions of years old.”

Grisham nodded. “The Ax’Kol must know they’re really in a battle now.” He smiled as the forced good mood turned rapidly into something more genuine. “They can’t replace the Virdas, and both the Andos and the Edran are permanently lost to them now.”

“This is the hardest they’ve ever been hit,” said Adler.

“And then some,” added Bishop.

“I know we’ve lost a planet, but we rescued most of the people,” said Lopez. “We can always build new shipyards.”

“That’s right,” said Grisham. “When I speak to Senator Maynard, I’ll tell him which of our other planets the Ax’Kol know about. Now that the Senate and the military have been served an undeniable example of what the enemy will do to us, there’ll be no shortage of willing hands. We’ll evacuate those other planets and we’ll build up our fleet. This’ll be one fight the Ax’Kol will regret starting.”

“Hell yeah,” said Adler. “And the Oblasar is going to be a real pain in their collective asses.”

Grisham sat back in his seat. The war wasn’t nearly won, but he was glad for these enormous achievements against the enemy fleet. Hopefully, they’d make a real difference.

“Oh,” said Deneuve in sudden surprise.

“What is it?” asked Grisham.

Deneuve poked a finger at the weapons panel in front of her. “The Repulsor just came online.”

“How come?” asked Grisham.

“I don’t know, Captain. All I can think of is that the hardware took a long time to restart after the Kalor drive was recharged. There’s nothing in the audit log.” Deneuve shrugged.

“Any indication what the Repulsor does?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, maybe it’s—”

Grisham cut himself short. A spaceship had appeared out of lightspeed, less than five thousand kilometres directly over the Oblasar. The vessel was almost three thousand metres in length and its shape vaguely resembled that of an old bullet, but with some additional wings.

“An Indredalus!” said Grisham. The arrival of an Ax’Kol battleship was unexpected, but he quickly guessed the reason for its appearance. “It was inbound to Loxor at lightspeed, so doesn’t know what happened here. Commander Deneuve, blow it to pieces.”

“With pleasure, sir. Forward Zorl clusters one to eight: targeted at enemy Indredalus and fired!”

Ninety-six missiles accelerated from their launch tubes and sped across the intervening space. The Ax’Kol warship was clearly not expecting such a warm welcome, and its crew didn’t even have time to create a psionic: slow.

The Zorl missiles struck the Indredalus and the enemy ship was lost in the conflagration. When the initial blast receded, Grisham saw that the battleship had been torn into pieces. Still burning, the debris began falling towards Loxor. It was a long way down.

“Well that was gratifying,” said Deneuve. “I wonder how many others are on their way.”

“We’re not leaving until we’ve heard from Senator Maynard,” said Grisham. “So let’s find out if there are any more latecomers.”

“Are we going to circle the planet, Captain?” asked Bishop.

Grisham shook his head. “No, we’re going to stay right here. This is near to where the Inojor and the Engarvax were positioned. I reckon any inbound Ax’Kol warships have been given the same set of coordinates.”

“Let’s find out,” said Deneuve.

An hour went by without any new Ax’Kol warships showing up. Then, a cruiser exited lightspeed at the approximate same location as the Indredalus had appeared. Commander Deneuve launched missiles from four of the topside clusters and the enemy spaceship was turned into wreckage, again before it could respond.

“This is fun,” she said.

“A bit of light relief,” said Grisham. He was itching to blow a few more of the enemy into pieces, and the unfairness of it all only made him happier. “I hope those assholes have another fifty members of their fleet heading this way.”

As he was speaking, a second cruiser appeared, and Deneuve dispatched it in moments with missiles from the four loaded topside clusters.

“It’s raining Ax’Kol,” she said, as the flaming debris joined that of the previous warship. Much farther below, the Indredalus was still falling. It would impact soon.

Grisham checked the Oblasar’s magazine readouts again. The warship had been armed for a hell of a long campaign and he guessed it had been resupplied at some point before its Kalor drive ran out of power. Where that resupply had taken place, Grisham was interested to know, but that was a question for later. Here and now above Loxor, he had no fears the Oblasar would run out of ammunition anytime soon. If the Ax’Kol kept on coming, he’d keep on shooting them down.

The next vessel to appear was an Engarvax carrier, and this was a rather more dangerous opponent than those which had come before. Still, its control minds failed to respond quickly and the warship soon succumbed to an intense bombardment of missiles, Avil-Tor projectiles, and a Rodor Lance through its midsection. The wreckage of the Engarvax began its journey downwards.

A short time later, the Indredalus, its descent from six thousand kilometres slowed by air resistance, crunched into the surface of Loxor, south of Epestar. Grisham had seen enough planetary devastation for one lifetime, but nevertheless he couldn’t take his eyes away from the rippling shockwave and the crater.

“We’re racking up the kills,” said Deneuve gleefully.

“The number of enemy vessels makes me think they were planning a lightning sweep through Human Federation territory,” said Grisham. “I wonder if they know about more of our planets than we believe.”

“We must have set them way back, Captain,” said Adler. “What we’ve done here at Loxor should give humanity some breathing room.”

“I hope so,” said Grisham, trying not to drag himself into thoughts of the future. The Ax’Kol had been punished here at Loxor, and he couldn’t deny it felt great adding some real insult to the injury by picking off these stragglers.

Another ten minutes went by, during which Commander Deneuve blew up two more Ax’Kol cruisers. Then, an hour passed without any more Ax’Kol warships exiting lightspeed.

“They’ve dried up,” said Adler. “What a shame - I’d have settled for destroying another couple of dozen.”

Grisham laughed. “Same here, but I’m content with the damage we’ve done. I’m sure when we hear from Senator Maynard, we’ll be sent straight onto another dangerous mission – one in which the enemy will be firing back at us.”

“Yeah, it was good while it lasted, Captain.”

Thirty minutes later and the skies remained clear. The surface of Loxor, however, had suffered greatly. Repeated debris impacts – billions of tons’ worth – had produced overlapping craters, along with dozens of fissures in the ground. Earthquakes shook the land for hundreds of kilometres all around, and Lieutenant Bishop speculated that the seismic activity might be a result of permanent shifts in the planet’s surface plates.

Just as Grisham was ready to believe the combat here at Loxor was over, a new vessel exited lightspeed at an altitude of ten thousand kilometres - about eight thousand kilometres above the Oblasar. This one was completely unlike all the others.

The vessel was flank facing, allowing Grisham a good view of its overall shape. He saw high sides, curving towards the topsides, and jutting wings that emerged from the warship’s midsection and ended near the stern. Missile cluster hatches were visibly numerous, and to cap it all, the newly arrived warship was fitted with six huge topside turrets, the guns of which were facing forwards.

Most of all, Grisham saw the size of the enemy spaceship – the sensors estimated its length at more than sixteen thousand metres.

The Evoldor! he thought. His heart jumped. Or the Gavax’Kol!

One of the two remaining Ax’Kol capital ships had unwittingly stumbled into the crosshairs of the Oblasar, and Grisham damn well intended to make the best use of the opportunity. The mind batteries were full, and that made the Rodor Lance the obvious choice for the first strike. Grisham opened his mouth, but a different order came out.

“Commander Deneuve, fire the Repulsor!”

“Yes, sir. Repulsor targeted at the enemy warship and fired.”

The entirety of the Oblasar seemed to shake and the vibration was accompanied by a depth of bass which made Grisham feel as if he was being squeezed in a vice. As though it had been picked up by the hand of a god and hurled away, the enemy vessel was launched out of the planet’s orbit. Such was the acceleration that the Ax’Kol warship vanished from the feeds almost before Grisham could blink.

Then, as if it were caught in the recoil energy of the Repulsor, the Oblasar was thrown violently in the opposite direction. In a split-second, Grisham’s mind registered many things. He saw that every output gauge on his control panel was nailed on one hundred percent. He saw the planet coming up on the sensors at incredible speed. Instinct and reactions took over, and he fed power into the warship’s Kalor drive. He realised the Oblasar was rotating and he fought to bring it under control.

For a brief moment, the sensors went offline and the Kalor drive stuttered like it was about to shut down. The propulsion recovered and the feeds resumed, only this time the planet was much closer than before.

Grisham tried his best to avoid the collision. He was too slow, though this was an occasion when the human body was completely outmatched by the brutality of technology. However, he didn’t fail by much. The undersides of the Oblasar thumped into the ground right in the middle of Epestar, crushing everything beneath. A shockwave sped outwards, knocking over thousands of buildings which had partially escaped the earlier impacts south of the city.

Cushioned by the Oblasar’s life support system, Grisham felt nothing of the collision, though he was sure the soundwave would reach the bridge in the next few seconds. The surprise of these most recent events hadn’t yet faded, but Grisham didn’t let that hold him back.

“That was either the Evoldor or the Gavax’Kol!” he yelled. “Find it!”

He pushed the control bars as far as they would go, and the Kalor drive thundered. Yet more of Epestar was demolished by the expulsion of energy produced by the warship’s engines and the Oblasar accelerated away from the surface.

“Captain, the Repulsor has shut down again,” said Deneuve. “There’s no indication how long it’ll take to come online – or even if it will.”

“And that one shot took three percent off our Kalor drive reserves, sir,” said Adler. “The energy output must have been monumental.”

“Why is our core utilisation still high?” asked Grisham, glancing at the status readouts on his viewscreen. The warship’s processing cluster was no longer at one hundred percent, but it was still in the nineties.

“I’m checking it out, sir,” said Kinsey.

Soon, the Oblasar was tearing through the planet’s upper atmosphere, trailing sonic booms in its wake. Grisham watched the forward feeds, his mind reeling from the outcome of the Repulsor discharge. The mass of the enemy vessel would be incomprehensible, and yet it had been thrown across space like a…

…like a psionically accelerated Alturian slug, thought Grisham, smiling thinly. Only this time, the acceleration was generated by good, honest, tech.

“Where did the enemy vessel end up?” he asked. Having got in the first strike, Grisham felt like his control was slipping away. “Find it!”

“Captain, I’m plotting its trajectory based on…,” said Bishop. “There! It hit the moon!”

Before Grisham could respond, he noticed a word on his tactical screen, which explained the reason for the high core utilisation.

Pursue?

“We’re going after those assholes,” Grisham said.

Without hesitation, he selected the option on his screen and the Oblasar entered lightspeed.

GAVAX’KOL

The sensors didn’t take longer than a moment to come online, and when they did so, Grisham was confronted by a scene of the greatest destruction. A crater, almost nine hundred kilometres across, and over a hundred deep, had been created by the Ax’Kol warship’s enormous-velocity collision with Loxor’s moon. Cracks extended from the impact zone and Grisham could clearly see that the fissures continued the full circumference. Already, a huge cloud of dust and debris, thrown up by the crash, was blurring the outline of the crater.

“I’ve located the enemy warship,” said Lopez.

There it was, in the centre of the crater, its hull crushed by the force of impacting with a moon-sized object at a velocity not far less than lightspeed. Despite the dust, the sensors on the Oblasar created a clear image. The Ax’Kol warship had struck the moon flank first, and the biological material of its hull had been smeared like tar across the stony surface. Metallic objects were visible in places, where they’d ruptured through to the exterior.

“Range: ten thousand klicks, Captain,” said Deneuve.

Grisham understood the unspoken question. “Fire the Rodor Lance, Commander,” he said. “And give those bastards everything else we have.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Rodor Lance struck the enemy warship dead centre. Against the vast size of the crashed spaceship, a thousand-metre hole didn’t look so impressive, though Grisham was sure it had caused plenty of internal damage.

A moment later, the first of the Avil-Tor projectiles struck the Ax’Kol warship. Then came the Zorl missiles. As Commander Deneuve emptied the facing clusters, Grisham rotated the Oblasar to bring others to bear. Soon, the target vessel was burning from nose to stern.

“I think the impact was enough, Captain,” said Adler.

“So do I,” Grisham replied. “But this isn’t a time to take chances.”

For several minutes, he allowed the bombardment to continue. At last, satisfied, he called it off. There was no chance whatsoever that the mind on the crashed warship was alive.

“Damn,” he said. “We took out another Ax’Kol capital ship.”

“I hope it was the Gavax’Kol,” said Lopez.

“Me too,” said Grisham. “Let’s hope we got lucky.”

“We did get lucky, sir,” said Deneuve. She laughed. “Damn lucky.”

All of a sudden, Grisham understood the enormity of what had just happened. The Ax’Kol had now lost not one, but two of their capital warships – warships which had lasted for an eternity and overseen the deaths of trillions. And here was one of them, alight and at the bottom of a crater.

Grisham felt giddy and he laughed too. “We might have just turned everything on its head.”

“A shame about the moon,” said Lieutenant Adler. “I hope they don’t ask you to pay damages, sir.”

“Captain Jed Grisham. The man who broke Loxor’s moon,” said Deneuve.

“It was worth it,” said Grisham. His gaze drifted away from the crater to the multitude of cracks which now seemed more numerous than they had before. The moon was indeed broken, and he wondered what would become of it over the coming hours and days. He doubted he’d be around to see it.

“Let’s get back to Loxor,” said Grisham after a time. “There might be some more inbound Ax’Kol warships that need our attention.”

While he knew the enemy warship below was gone forever, Grisham found himself reluctant to leave. It wasn’t that he feared it would suddenly rise from the moon’s surface, more that he had an inkling of the vessel’s history – it had been responsible for the worst atrocities imaginable, and that brought with it a need for quiet introspection, in the same way as if he’d been standing at the edge of a war grave.

Holding in a sigh, Grisham banked the Oblasar away from the moon and started it on the journey back to Loxor. The planet’s surface was a mess, but he no longer saw the details. Now it was just a place – a destination where he hoped to kill some more Ax’Kol.

A couple of minutes into the return journey, Lieutenant Lopez gave the announcement everyone had been waiting for.

“Captain, we’ve received a comm from Shesa-2!” she said. “It’s a recording from Senator Maynard.”

“Put it on the bridge speakers,” said Grisham at once.

The recording played and the crew listened. When it was finished, Grisham didn’t know what to say, or what to think.

“So that was the Evoldor we defeated,” he said at last. “Not the Gavax’Kol.”

Grisham went through the recording again in his head. Maynard had reported the destruction of the support fleet sent to help the Kijol. The Human Federation had lost more than a hundred warships, and the Kijol had lost an even greater number.

Then, Senator Maynard had spoken about the death of a planet, though he didn’t provide an extensive description.

Worst of all, was mention of a colossal warship, far beyond anything known to either humanity or the Kijol. This vessel had been responsible for destruction on a seemingly impossible scale. Having defeated two sizable fleets and wrecked a planet, the Gavax’Kol had then vanished. Where it had gone was unknown.

“The Exetran and the Evoldor were both beyond anything we’ve encountered before,” said Deneuve. “And now they’re destroyed.”

“I have a feeling the Gavax’Kol will be different, Commander,” said Grisham. “It’s going to be worse than both of those other warships combined.”

“And we’re going to kick its ass, Captain.”

Grisham smiled, though it wasn’t convincing. “That we are, Commander.”

The crew fell silent, thinking. Grisham tried to remain positive, but it was hard. The Evoldor had been a lucky kill, and the Exetran had already taken a beating when the Oblasar engaged with it. Now, the Gavax’Kol - the main command vessel of the Ax’Kol species - was left, and it certainly wouldn’t be a pushover. The Repulsor shot against the Evoldor had been a one-off, and only a fool would bank on repeating it against the Gavax’Kol.

However, Grisham knew that if he could find and defeat this one enemy, the war might be won. In many ways, this had been a great day, but the biggest test was yet to come.

* * *

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