Vilekron

Forged Alliance Book 3

Anthony James

Contents

The Vengeance

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

The Fifth Seeking

Other Science Fiction Books by Anthony James

© 2021 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

The Vengeance

For Captain William Flint, the days following his escape from the Evia system were almost as hard to endure as the events which had preceded them. Being stuck in the confines of the warship Vengeance was the least of his worries, though by day three of the return journey the last vestiges of the Frenziol-15 booster drugs he’d injected to counteract the effects of the Lavorix death sphere had finally left his system, leaving him to combat the twin challenges of mental numbness and physical exhaustion.

With only a handful of beds on the Vengeance and too many bodies to occupy them, Flint – who had no intention of pulling rank over the ground troops who had performed so admirably onboard the Ancidium – was obliged to take his turn. Infuriatingly, sleep wouldn’t come, doubtless because of the worries which plagued him in a swarm.

After two failed attempts at slumber, Flint began to wonder if he should take another shot of Frenziol to keep him going. Those thoughts, he knew, were the first steps on the road to ruin.

So, Flint had little option other than to wait and suffer as the Vengeance – commanded by Admiral Daisy Aston – hurtled through space at an unimaginably high multiple of lightspeed, its propulsion a bass rumble heard and felt everywhere. The sound of it was, Flint reflected, one of the few comforts – a constant reminder that technology could conquer anything.

Despite the success of the mission to Evia, many questions remained unanswered and it was these which left him in a state of constant, teeth-grinding agitation. Occasionally, Flint liked guessing games. This was not one of those times. In addition, his crew were as much on edge and he hardly spoke to them, as if conversation had become too much of an effort.

Even the easy-going wiseass talk from the soldiers was in short supply. Usually, they didn’t let things grind them down. This was different.

Mid-way through day four, with only a few hours until the Vengeance’s scheduled exit from lightspeed, Flint lay on one of the bunks in the soldiers’ quarters, his eyes closed and his mind awake. On the bunk above, the Daklan Corporal Charnos, slept, his breathing slow and steady. The other bunks in the room were also occupied, though from the fitful stirrings, Flint guessed that nobody was comfortable.

Sighing, Flint twisted onto his side and removed his combat helmet from the alcove at the top of his bunk. His Rodan was in the same place and he pulled that out as well. The gun was too heavy for comfort and he preferred the standard alliance gauss rifle, though they lacked the stopping power required to put down a Kilvar soldier. Not that Flint expected to run into enemy troops while the Vengeance was at lightspeed.

Rolling sideways out of his bed, he planted his feet on the floor and swore under his breath that he’d failed again to sleep. Tipping his balance forward, Flint rose smoothly and quietly, before exiting the bunk room through the single door. He had it in mind to speak with Admiral Aston, but the dryness in his mouth – another side-effect of the Frenziol – convinced him to stop at the mess room on his way to the bridge.

It was true to say that the mess room and the bridge were the only places on a warship which were never unoccupied, and Flint arrived to discover seemingly half of Lieutenant Vance’s platoon had got there before him. They took up most of the seats and loitered in front of the replicator, eating unconvincing proteins and drinking imperfectly recreated versions of fruit juice and coffee. From experience, Flint knew that only the water was indistinguishable from the real thing, though it still wasn’t a popular choice.

Privates Weiland Steigers, Ossie Carrington and Eric Drawl were talking crap at the replicator and doing so with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. They parted to let Flint pass and, when he glanced through Carrington’s visor, Flint saw the same hollowness as she likely saw in his face.

“Might I suggest the braised testicles in gravy, sir?” said Drawl. “Code 3-1-6-9-1-4 if you want to give them a try.”

“Drawl swallows them whole, sir,” said Carrington helpfully.

“Thanks for the recommendation,” said Flint, tapping in a different code. A tray appeared in the replicator slot, bearing three metal cups of mixed fruit juice and a couple of burgers, the latter of which neither his mouth nor stomach were much interested in. “They sound good - maybe I’ll order them next time.”

Flint stepped away from the replicator and his eyes scanned the room. Only one table had enough bench space for him to sit comfortably and he headed over.

“Commander Larson,” he said in greeting.

Acting Commander Jo Larson smiled. “Have a seat,” she said. On the table in front of her was an object which may have been a sandwich - currently untouched - and a half-empty cup of a purple-coloured fluid.

Flint sat. “I was on my way to the bridge.” He hesitated. Larson was about five years his senior and her features were almost too perfect. Not normally a shy man, nor a shallow one who would reduce this seasoned and exceptionally competent officer to nothing more than a visual work of art, Flint nevertheless struggled for something to say. “Permission to talk work?”

“There’s not much else to talk about,” said Larson with a shrug. She prodded the sandwich with her fingertip, as if wondering what it was doing on her tray.

“Any changes to the planned lightspeed exit?” asked Flint.

“No changes,” Larson confirmed. “We’ll enter local space six hours from Terrani. Since we’ve transferred all the data we captured from the Ancidium into the Vengeance’s arrays, we can safely jettison the obliterator core, destroy it and then resume our journey.”

“That way, the Kilvar have no way of following us.”

“So we hope.”

“The waiting is hard,” said Flint. “Normally I don’t mind.”

“Yes - I hate not knowing,” said Larson, her gaze distant. “We lost five months at the Ancidium. Those final negation pulses really screwed things up for us. And now we’re returning without any idea of what we’re heading into.”

Flint didn’t like thinking about it. During the engagement at the Ancidium, the heavy cruiser Firestorm had been creating pulses that counteracted the stasis sphere which surrounded the Lavorix capital ship. Unfortunately, as the warship’s exium module had gradually failed, those pulses also carried the mission personnel through time at a vastly accelerated rate, with the end result that during their few hours in the stasis sphere, five months had passed for everyone outside.

“The war isn’t lost,” said Flint. “We’d know if it was.”

Larson didn’t commit to an opinion. “Maybe.”

“We’ll soon find out,” said Flint. “Anyway, why order us to Terrani? There are other planets much closer to Basalt.”

“Everything happens for a reason,” said Larson. She watched him carefully. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

The question caught Flint off guard though he tried not to show it. “I assumed it’s because Terrani has the best scientific teams and the most efficient construction facilities in the alliance. Where better to deliver the Ancidium’s data?”

“I’m sure that’s part of it.”

“You made it sound like had the answers.”

“I know the Fleet Admiral, that’s all.”

Flint tried again. “Something important is happening at Terrani. Something we’ll be part of.”

“That’s what I think,” said Larson. “We left Evia in a hurry and the Fleet Admiral didn’t have time to explain what he has planned. Maybe he didn’t even know.”

“He gets a feeling and runs with it,” said Flint.

Larson smiled. “And fills in the details on the way. It’s a method which has worked up until now.”

“What do you think is happening at Terrani?”

“I don’t know. Maybe in our absence, the alliance has discovered a more efficient way to damage the Kilvar warships and Terrani is the rendezvous point for our attack fleet.” Larson poked the sandwich again. “More likely our scientists have come up with something new.”

“That’s got to be the reason,” said Flint. He laughed. “Now I’m going to spend every waking minute wondering what tech we’ve created.”

“You won’t be waiting long,” said Larson. She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “In three hours, we’ll exit lightspeed and we’ll hear a lot more about what’s happening in the alliance.”

“And six hours after that, we’ll be at Terrani,” said Flint. He flexed his fingers. “Then we’ll have our chance to take part.”

“Come to the bridge at the stop-off,” said Larson. “You can watch us destroy the obliterator core and you’ll get to hear the same information as the rest of the crew.” She rose and picked up her tray, which still held the uneaten sandwich.

“I’ll kill some time until then,” said Flint, staying where he was.

Larson headed for the bridge. Ten minutes later, Lieutenant James Vance entered the mess room, along with Sergeant Tagra and Corporal Suzy Hendrix. After visiting the replicator, they settled at Flint’s table and the conversation – muted as it was – ensured the minutes went by faster than they had before.

Two minutes before the scheduled time for lightspeed exit, Kavol-Tor, the Vengeance’s comms officer, used the internal speakers to remind the warship’s passengers it was time to prepare. Flint didn’t wait for the transition and hurried from the mess room. When he was almost at the bridge, he detected the change in the propulsion, and he braced himself for the nausea. It came, no better and no worse than usual, and after a few shaky steps, his strength returned.

At the bridge entrance, Flint paused for a moment. After four days of being in the dark, part of him suddenly didn’t want to find out about events within the alliance. Gritting his teeth, Flint touched his hand on the bridge access panel and the door opened before him.

When he entered, the crew were busy with post-lightspeed status checks and sensor scans. Flint didn’t interrupt - he stayed out of the way and gave most of his attention to the bulkhead screens. Kavol-Tor was busy adjusting the sensor arrays but so far she hadn’t turned up anything other than darkness.

Meanwhile, Commander Larson was using the backup controls to guide the Vengeance through a series of erratic manoeuvres on the off chance they’d arrived within detection range of a hostile warship.

Freed from the controls, Admiral Aston was speaking to whoever was on the other end of a private comms channel. Everybody was desperate to hear what she learned from the conversation.

The unease Flint had experienced outside the bridge hadn’t gone anywhere. He shifted from foot to foot and scraped his teeth together. When Kavol-Tor announced the far scans were clear, Larson brought the Vengeance to a near-standstill with such sudden deceleration that Flint was forced to brace himself.

“Ejecting obliterator core through underside bomb deployment chute,” said Larson. She was evidently in control of the Vengeance while Aston was diverted elsewhere. “Deployment successful.”

“I have the obliterator on the underside feed,” said Kavol-Tor.

The processing unit, with its tiny exium module, sped away with the velocity of its ejection. Flint couldn’t help but watch it go, knowing that the device had freed from stasis an entity which claimed itself a god and which had – supposedly - settled the war between the Lavorix and the alliance.

“Underside missile cluster 1, launch tube 1: targeted,” said Larson, her single visible hand skipping across the complex weapons panel with an ease born of practice. “Missile launched.”

A moment later, the obliterator core was struck by one of the Vengeance’s hellburner missiles and engulfed in a blast which could have destroyed it a thousand times over. In Flint’s mind, it was better to do the job properly.

When he shifted his attention from the dwindling blast, Flint saw that Admiral Aston’s shoulders had slumped. It was the confirmation he needed that the coming news was going to be worse than bad.

“Lieutenant Ashar-Bak, warm up the ternium drive,” ordered Commander Larson. “Our destination is Terrani.”

“Acknowledged,” said Ashar-Bak, the second of the Vengeance’s Daklan crew. “Ternium drive warming up.”

With the Kilvar on the hunt for exium it was best to get away from this area of space as soon as possible, even if that meant cutting off Admiral Aston’s comms discussion midway through. In the Evia system, the enemy had turned up with hardly any delay, and Flint didn’t want a repeat performance – not with the Vengeance carrying such valuable data.

With less than a minute remaining on the ternium drive countdown, Admiral Aston exited the comms channel. She didn’t speak immediately and when she did, it was to divulge something terrible.

“A Kilvar fleet appeared at Basalt two days ago and destroyed the local defence force,” Aston said. “They’ve begun landing their troops.” She swore. “They’re going to drain the life from every living organism on the planet and, at the moment, there isn’t a damn thing we can do to stop them.”

Having heard this development, Flint realised he wasn’t in the least bit surprised. Somehow, it didn’t lesson the shock and he couldn’t think of anything to say. Then, the Vengeance entered lightspeed and the pain of the transition was as bad as any he could remember.

Chapter One

Flint wasn’t the only one to suffer and the other members of the crew – even the Daklan – cursed the lightspeed tech for its inconsistency. Shortly after, they were recovered enough to listen to what Admiral Aston had to say. It didn’t get any better.

“Fleet Admiral Recker is on the Amber base,” she said. “So far it hasn’t been subject to a sustained bombardment in the way it was before. The Kilvar don’t have anything to fear, so they’re getting on with what they came for.”

“Draining everyone of life,” said Kavol-Tor, the peculiar alien melodiousness of her voice in sharp contrast with the words she delivered.

“It won’t be over quickly,” said Flint. “Not if they have to make physical contact in order for it to happen.”

“Maybe the people living there aren’t so important to the Kilvar anyway,” said Larson. Her seat was rotated so she could face the other members of the crew and her expression was haunted. “Maybe they’ll be just as interested in trees and animals and that’ll slow them down until we can figure out a way to stop them.”

“So far, they have not launched an all-out attack on the surface,” said Aston. “They have deployed several – large – shuttles and landed their troops outside major population centres. We know this because they haven’t even disabled the planet’s comms and satellites - presumably because they don’t need to,” said Aston bitterly.

“I want to be involved,” said Flint, grimacing in frustration. “I know the Vengeance is carrying vital intel, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about being away from the frontline.”

Aston nodded, though her gaze was distant. “I only just learned that Fleet Admiral Recker ordered an evacuation of the planet – that was three weeks ago.”

“How many of our people escaped?” asked Flint.

“I didn’t hear the details,” said Aston. “We had six interstellars assigned to the task, along with dozens of smaller vessels. Now it’s too late for anyone who’s left behind – with a Kilvar fleet stationed in orbit, nothing will get in or out.”

“And Fleet Admiral Recker is trapped,” said Larson.

“It’s not his way to run. You know that as well as I do, Commander,” said Aston.

“I know,” said Larson. “Damn, I’d prefer it if he’d been elsewhere than Basalt.”

Flint considered what he knew about the Human Planetary Alliance military. It would be hurt by the loss of Recker, but the blow wouldn’t be fatal. However, in the circumstances, the upheaval wouldn’t be a welcome diversion and it would certainly damage morale.

“What response is planned?” asked Flint.

He didn’t know what options were open – the alliance fleet had apparently suffered losses at Evia while the Firestorm and Vengeance were inside the stasis sphere, though he hadn’t been told the extent of them. In addition, the local fleet at Basalt had been destroyed and that added up to another twenty-five or thirty warships. The losses were mounting and soon the alliance wouldn’t be able to make up the numbers by building replacement vessels. New weapons tech was needed and soon.

“That isn’t entirely decided,” said Aston.

“I don’t understand, ma’am,” said Flint. “What part isn’t decided?”

“The mission personnel part of it,” she replied.

“We’ve got something ready to go,” said Flint. “And you can’t tell us what it is yet.”

“That’s about the long and short of it.” Aston smiled, though it only served to accentuate her tiredness. “I’d suggest you find a place and try to sleep, Captain Flint. That goes for the other members of your crew as well.”

“Are we involved in whatever’s coming?” asked Flint. “I can handle surprises, but I prefer the chance to prepare.”

“I already told you how to prepare, Captain.” Aston pointed at the bridge door. “Sleep. I’ll speak to you again if I need to.”

Flint could see Aston wasn’t in the mood to divulge secrets and he took the hint. “I’ll go,” he said. “Is any of this classified?”

“No. People should know what’s happening.”

“If I speak to anyone, I’ll make them aware.”

With that, Flint left the bridge. The news of the Kilvar attack hadn’t quite sunk in yet and he felt a creeping numbness which merged with his underlying fatigue and left him feeling like crap. As he made his way through the warship’s interior, he contacted his crew on the internal comms, told them what he’d learned and ordered them to get some to sleep, even if that required evicting a bed’s existing occupant.

Flint returned to the bunk room and discovered the bed he’d used before was empty. Corporal Charnos was no longer on the top bunk – instead, Private Stanar was soundly asleep, his rocket tube lying next to him.

Dropping onto his own mattress, Flint pushed his helmet and gun back into the alcove and he lay there, his mind in such turmoil he couldn’t imagine sleep would ever claim him. The attack on Basalt was a calamity, though one which he’d known was inevitable the moment Lieutenant Vance reported that the Kilvar required life energy in order to ascend into godhood. Since that ascendancy was apparently within touching distance, there was no way they’d ignore a densely populated world like Basalt.

The turning of Flint’s mind was not enough to defeat his exhaustion. Two minutes after his head touched the pillow, it was as though a switch in his head had been flicked and he fell into a solid slumber, disturbed by no dreams he could remember.

A chiming alarm woke him and he stared groggily at nothing while his brain caught up. It was time to get his ass in gear and he swung himself off the bed and dashed for the door, bringing his suit helmet and gun with him. Halting, he belatedly remembered about his crew. A rapid check of the bunk room’s other occupants turned up Lieutenants Wes Bolan, Rita Becerra and Sophie Garrett in the process of gathering themselves. Lieutenant Stan Fredericks was also located easily, simply by following a cavernous snoring noise to its source.

“Where’s Commander Maddox?” asked Flint.

“I’m not sure, sir,” said Becerra. “I think she slept earlier, so maybe she didn’t need much rest.”

“She can look after herself,” said Flint, hoping his crew had benefitted from these few hours of downtime. Personally, he wanted another eight hours, but six was better than none. “Pick up your gear and be ready.”

“Ready for what?” asked Bolan.

“We’ll be leaving the Vengeance in a hurry. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us after that, but I don’t want to be the officer who has to explain to Admiral Aston why his crew are running behind scheduled during the biggest shit-on-fan time for the alliance since planet Fortune was turned to dust by a tenixite converter!”

“Yes, sir,” said Bolan, startled into wakefulness.

“And make sure you pass on the message,” said Flint, indicating Lieutenant Fredericks who was still apparently fast asleep.

“I’m on it, sir.”

“After that, contact Commander Maddox,” said Flint, heading once again for the door.

Outside, Flint ran for it, or at least he did the best he could in the close-walled passages of the Vengeance. Life on a fleet warship wasn’t suited to those who preferred a leisurely breakfast followed by a dip in the pool after rising, and Flint was barely ten paces along the first right-hand turn when he heard Kavol-Tor announce the imminent transition to local space.

“Best get ready, sir,” said Private Drawl, who happened to be nearby. The man had his suit helmet on and was carrying both a gauss rifle and his shotgun, as if his nose for trouble had detected the approach of something distinctly unpleasant, and it wasn’t clear if his warning was about the coming lightspeed transition or something else.

Flint didn’t stop to ask questions. He brushed past Drawl, the tightness of the corridor bringing him close enough that he could see the focus in the soldier’s eyes. Suddenly, and in that fleeting moment, Flint almost understood what made Lieutenant Vance and his troops such incredible survivors. When the moment came – or even threatened - they had the innate talent of being in the right place at the right time.

“Thank you, Private, I’m ready,” said Flint.

He sprinted on. None of Flint’s internal alarms were ringing, but he’d never consciously listened out for them until Fleet Admiral Recker had advised him to go with his instinct. Now he was aware of that instinct, maybe it had become elusive to his scrutiny.

Flint encountered two other soldiers on the way to the bridge, one being Sergeant Tagra, who was considerably harder to squeeze past than the wiry Private Drawl. At the top of the bridge steps, the ternium drive dropped into near silence and Flint waited for the transition. If it was as bad as the last one, he’d be pretty damned unamused.

Giddiness turned to nausea and Flint’s fingers went numb. All things considered, the transition could have been worse and he curled his fingers into tight fists to get the blood flowing. After that, he touched the bridge door access panel and crossed the threshold, his gaze going straight to the bulkhead screens.

“Terrani,” said Kavol-Tor proudly when he entered.

The Daklan home world looked almost too harsh for habitation, though Flint recognized that the drab colours exacerbated the impression. The forests were extensive, yet lacking in vibrancy, while the deserts were sombre yellows. Even the large ice caps were dull - grey, almost - while the oceans were, in appearance, colder than the grave. To add to everything, much of the planet’s surface was covered in dense rainclouds. Viewing it even from a million kilometres out in space, Flint could understand how conditions on this world might have defined the characteristics of its Daklan offspring.

“I’ve never seen it before,” Flint admitted. “Except in recordings.”

Kavol-Tor made no effort to expand the discussion, since she was occupied by her duties. At the command station, Admiral Aston was once again on the comms, leaving Commander Larson to handle the Vengeance.

“Any sign of trouble?” asked Flint.

“Were you expecting any?” asked Larson intently.

“No,” said Flint, unsure why he’d asked the question in the first place. “I guess I’m feeling jumpy about everything.”

“Must be the Frenziol,” said Larson without turning. “It digs in its claws and doesn’t let go.”

Aston emerged briefly from her conversation to give directions. “We’re going to Hakarul,” she said. “We have clearance to approach and land.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Larson. “Setting a course.”

“The main Daklan military base,” said Flint.

“Yes, it is,” said Larson. “Ready to be impressed?”

“Definitely,” said Flint. He’d heard stories about the Hakarul base. Already a primary facility during the human-Daklan wars and the short conflict with the Lavorix which followed, it had grown continuously in the last twelve years.

“Connection established with the orbital comms ring,” said Kavol-Tor. “Commencing upload of the Ancidium’s data.”

Commander Larson didn’t delay and she requested maximum from the Vengeance’s propulsion. It was an old warship, yet Flint could feel it straining to defy every physical law which dictated that an object with a mass of 2.7 billion tons couldn’t possibly accelerate with such unrestrained savagery.

“Hakarul is blind side,” said Larson. “We should have sight of it in approximately five minutes.” She half turned. “Enjoy the sights, Captain Flint.”

As the Vengeance climbed to its 4500 kilometre per second safe maximum velocity, the details of the planet sharpened appreciably, and Flint took a few steps closer to the feeds. The bleakness he’d originally identified remained apparent, but it was melded with a stark beauty, like a remote wilderness on Earth.

Not all of the planet’s surface was nature. The Daklan had built extensively, and their cities, military bases, and construction yards formed irregular expanses of grey amongst the other colours. The HPA had plenty of sprawling facilities, but he had a feeling that none rivalled what he was seeing here on Terrani. The Daklan industries had always been potent and their outputs enormous.

The Vengeance continued on its vector and Admiral Aston continued on the comms. Flint was desperate to find out what the alliance was planning, and he was sure he’d find out shortly. That didn’t make the waiting any easier.

“Hakarul coming up on the cusp,” said Larson.

Flint watched closely. A thick line of grey appeared on the north-western edge of Terrani, and it grew as the Vengeance’s journey carried it further around the planet. As more of the base was revealed, he began to wonder if the Daklan had clad much of the northern hemisphere in alloy and stone. He’d been told that Terrani held a wealth of natural resources and here was an example of it unfolding before his eyes.

“That’s not just impressive,” said Flint. “It’s damned impressive.”

“Almost eighty thousand square klicks,” said Larson. “The construction yards can work on twelve warships at once, and perform repairs and maintenance on three others at the same time. Not only that, the Daklan have a dozen primary research labs here and factories to make those dreams into a Kilvar-destroying reality.”

“Let’s hope a few dreams came true while we were at Evia,” said Flint.

As he talked, Kavol-Tor zoomed one of the forward feeds onto the base and panned across. The air above the base was swarming with a mixture of shuttles and warships. Below them, Flint saw huge towers and domes, along with a massive cylinder which he thought might be a tenixite converter. Flat-roofed buildings resembled warehouses, or perhaps research facilities far larger than the one found on the Amber base.

The feed moved on to the construction yard, with its twin rows of twelve-kilometre trenches, all occupied by annihilator hulls in various stages of completion. As far as Flint knew, the alliance wasn’t yet designing warships that would fill a twelve-kilometre trench, but it made sense to think ahead. Maybe plans for a new fleet of super-annihilators were already awaiting final sign-off on Admiral Ivinstol’s desk.

Two of the construction trenches were far larger than the others, at almost twenty kilometres, and Flint guessed this was where the Daklan built their superheavy lifters. At the moment, each of those trenches was home to two part-built battleships. The Daklan could never be accused of holding back.

“The landing strip,” said Kavol-Tor, panning the sensors west.

Flint gazed at a vast area of solid alloy, punctuated by enormous supply depots and hundreds of much smaller personnel buildings. Ground vehicles in all shapes and sizes sped to and fro, their movement patterns seemingly random, yet with an underlying pattern, like ants around a nest.

Few warships were parked on the landing field. Hardware failures were rare and catastrophic hardware failures almost unheard of outside of combat. This reliability allowed a modern spaceship to operate away from base for months – or years – at a time. And, in this instance, it allowed the Daklan to keep every available vessel on constant patrol without having to worry too much about routine maintenance.

“Look at this,” said Kavol-Tor.

One of the feeds updated and this time it was aimed at the extreme end of the landing field, where Flint saw a cube-shaped vessel of colossal proportions. This warship’s lower three thousand metres were hidden in a purpose-built bay, leaving fifteen thousand metres of its hull visible above ground. From each face protruded a cannon with a monumental bore.

“The Ixidar. The Destroyer,” said Flint. “They brought it here.”

“That they did,” said Larson. “It’s fully repaired and ready to fly – assuming we manage to unlock its security codes.”

Flint had heard the tales and read the accessible reports. Even so, he had to ask. “Is it true what they say about it?”

“Everything and more,” said Larson. “Just be thankful it’s on our side now.”

Seeing the Ixidar gave Flint a shiver of something akin to awe. The warship was the raw edge of technology – a promise that sentient beings would eventually create weapons that could surpass anything naturally formed in the universe. Then, Flint remembered the Ancidium’s destruction of the Evia star. Perhaps those weapons had already been created.

As the distance to Hakarul decreased, Larson reduced velocity and guided the Vengeance towards the landing place indicated by the base flight controller. Flint’s fascination with the sights kept him occupied until Admiral Aston finished on the comms. She rotated her seat immediately and stared directly at Flint.

“Tell me, Captain Flint,” she asked. “How would you like to command another exium-equipped warship?”

Chapter Two

The truthful answer to the question was not much, but Flint had no intention of admitting it. “Right now, if you offered me a shuttle with a welding laser, I’d take it, ma’am.” He considered his next words carefully, not wishing to sound like he was afraid of the responsibility. “But since I’m being offered something with far greater potential than a construction yard shuttle, I have to ask what it is I’m bringing to the table.”

Aston held his gaze, but didn’t give him a direct response. “You’d have to ask Fleet Admiral Recker or Admiral Ivinstol.”

Flint opened his mouth and Aston raised a hand to cut him off.

“However,” she continued, “I know you score exceptionally highly on certain evaluation metrics. Metrics which aren’t widely discussed outside high command.”

“I don’t know what those metrics are, ma’am, but I can see from your expression that you’re not going to tell me anything else about them.”

“Well judged, Captain Flint,” said Aston with a hint of playfulness. “Now, you’ve been given command of the Nightfall.” She signalled to Kavol-Tor. “I’ve unlocked the relevant datafiles - locate the 3D model of the Nightfall and put it on the feed, Lieutenant.” Aston turned back to Flint. “For obvious reasons, we are not keeping our exium warships stationed at Terrani.”

Kavol-Tor was efficient and she soon located the 3D model, and put it on one of the bulkhead screens. When Flint saw the vessel, his jaw wanted to drop open. The model overlay indicated the warship was six thousand metres from end to end, and with a mass of seventy-five billion tons. In design, it was almost identical to the most recent Daklan annihilators, except that its nose section was blunted. When Kavol-Tor rotated the model, twin circular openings were revealed in the modified nose. They were weapons, that much was sure, but the details didn’t accompany the model.

Elsewhere on the hull, Flint spotted the usual eight Terrus cannons, made up from four turrets of two guns. The turrets were all installed topside - two where the midsection became the nose and two closer to the stern.

The Daklan hadn’t skimped elsewhere, and the Nightfall displayed an array of missile clusters and twelve-barrel railer countermeasures, along with a single underside low dome that had a thousand-metre diameter.

Aside from the nose section modifications, the Nightfall was an annihilator through and through, and it looked mean as hell.

“Can we view the files on its capabilities?” asked Flint.

“Not yet,” said Aston with a tight smile. “Soon.”

Flint’s experience on the Firestorm suggested that an exium module could make almost anything possible, albeit by taking enormous liberties with a spaceship’s structural integrity and the crew’s safety. Perhaps, Flint thought, the alliance scientists had ironed out those teething troubles. He wasn’t about to start placing bets.

“Now locate the Takrivon in those same data files, Lieutenant Kavol-Tor,” said Aston.

“The Takrivon?” asked Flint.

“It’s the Nightfall’s sister ship,” said Aston. “Both are fitted with exium modules, though their armaments are not identical.”

Although Flint was interested to learn more, he was already suspicious that the Nightfall and Takrivon were experimental like the Firestorm before them. If the hardware was ready for widespread installation, it shouldn’t be limited to these two spaceships. In addition, he couldn’t imagine a need for the two vessels to carry different armaments - the best available weapons should always be used for the task in hand.

“It seems like Research Lead Moseley and his team has been busy these last five months,” said Flint dryly.

“Whatever makes you believe RL Moseley had a hand in the development of these warships?” asked Aston. Her eyes gleamed with humour, though she didn’t smile.

“It appears my fate is tied inextricably to the man and his inventions,” said Flint.

“You could say the same for all of us,” said Aston. “But don’t think he’s the only one in the alliance capable of genius.”

“I never thought that for a moment, ma’am. It’s just his name is the one I keep hearing.” Flint smiled to show he didn’t mean anything by the words. In truth, he had both respect and admiration for RL Moseley and the countless other scientists working in the defence of the alliance. It was just that Flint seemed to be the one field testing all the new hardware.

“Here is the Takrivon,” said Kavol-Tor.

Flint’s eyes were drawn once again to the bulkhead screen and the new 3D model. The Takrivon was another annihilator. Unlike the Nightfall, its nose section was unmodified, but four of its eight Terrus cannons were noticeably different, with lower profiles and more angular turrets. These turrets were also larger - perhaps twice the size by volume - and the gun barrels themselves were longer and thicker.

“They got the Terrus-V design working,” said Flint.

“One of the rendezvous ships at Evia – the rendezvous we didn’t make – was equipped with the first operational version,” said Aston. “There were teething troubles back then. Let’s hope the Takrivon has no such issues.”

Flint realised that – like everyone else on the Evia mission - Aston had been out of the loop for five months, otherwise she’d have surely known all about the latest weapons tech developments. He’d have likely got an honest opinion from her about the effectiveness of the new hardware as well.

“What happens next?” asked Flint. “I take it there’s a mission?”

The Vengeance wasn’t far from Hakarul and Larson was rotating it into a landing position. Flint guessed they were going to set down on the eastern edge of the landing strip, not far from the two largest construction trenches.

“There’ll be a mission,” said Aston. “I don’t know what Fleet Admiral Recker has planned.”

The admission caught Flint off-guard. “We might not be going to Basalt?”

“Like I told you, I don’t know,” said Aston, her tone displaying a wearing patience. She took a breath. “It might be that Fleet Admiral Recker and Admiral Ivinstol are considering several options.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Flint met her eyes. “The last mission is done and I’m impatient to be on with the next.”

“As are we all, Captain.”

“Coming in to land,” said Larson. She adjusted the controls and the propulsion roared. The underside feed indicated a landing place close to where Flint had predicted.

“How much of the obliterator core’s data is left to transfer?” said Aston.

“Seventy percent,” said Kavol-Tor. “We have a high-throughput connection, but the quantity is large.”

“It’ll be done when it’s done,” said Aston. Even so, she sounded anxious. “Captain Flint, locate your crew and head for the forward exit ramp.”

“You’re staying onboard until the data is transferred?” asked Flint.

“So I’ve been ordered.” Aston gestured towards the door. “Go. There’ll be someone waiting for you when you disembark.”

Flint exited the bridge and halted for a moment at the bottom of the steps outside. There, he linked his suit comms to the Vengeance’s internal comms and ordered his crew to move. With that done, Flint headed in that direction himself. The engines were still loud and he could hear the subtle changes which indicated Larson was preparing to set down. A few seconds later, and with the forward airlock not far ahead, the warship’s feet touched the ground gently enough that Flint hardly noticed.

The forward airlock was crowded with soldiers and his crew were somewhere amongst them. A clunking of mechanical gears told Flint the ramp was opening and he waited impatiently for the personnel in front to make their way down. The news of his assignment hadn’t sunk in yet, though his mind was beginning to ask questions. He wanted to get off the warship and see if his mission orders would come through before he gave in to guesswork.

Outside, the wind blew and the rain fell, though the Vengeance’s hull acted as a shelter. A thousand ternium propulsions added a beating pressure to the air that threatened to disrupt the rhythm of Flint’s heart. The temperature was low – near freezing – and he put on his helmet to protect his skin from the icy wind.

“What happens now?” asked Commander Maddox, wending her way through the gathered soldiers. “And what’s going on?”

“I was told there’d be a welcoming committee,” said Flint, looking around for signs of it. He didn’t answer the second question and Maddox didn’t press.

Through the Vengeance’s numerous landing legs, Flint had a view to the nearest construction trench, from which two annihilator hulls loomed. The activity that way made it clear the Daklan were working flat-out to complete the warships. In the other direction, he saw the flat expanse of the landing strip which went on and on, vanishing over the far horizon. South, buildings rose into the sky, and viewed from ground level, the structures were even larger than Flint had imagined.

He was on the verge of requesting a channel to the warship’s bridge to ask for an update on the pickup for him, his crew and – presumably - the platoon, when a shuttle descended into sight directly to his left.

“That’s what we’re waiting for,” he said. “Let’s move.”

Flint hurried between the landing legs, checking over his shoulder. On a whim, he connected to Lieutenant Vance’s comms channel.

“Greetings, Lieutenant. What orders have you been given?”

“Exit the Vengeance and go where we’re told,” said Vance. “Since nobody was around to tell us anything, we’re following you to that shuttle, sir.”

For once, Vance was as much in the dark as Flint. “I hope you’re not expecting any downtime, Lieutenant.”

“The only thing I’m expecting is more of what we saw in Evia, and that means we’re going to Basalt.”

“That may be where the road is leading us,” said Flint.

He cut the channel and increased his pace. The shuttle had landed ahead of him. It was a surprisingly large model, two hundred metres in length and with high-calibre chain guns mounted on various parts of its hull. One of the side doors was open and retractable steps were extended to the ground. Flint could see a Daklan inside, evidently unwilling to leave the shelter of the interior.

“That’s a big old shuttle,” said Lieutenant Fredericks on the comms. “Fitted with a lightspeed drive as well, I reckon.”

“What are you trying to say, Lieutenant?” asked Flint.

“It was merely an observation, sir.”

“Observation, my ass,” said Lieutenant Garrett with a dismissive sound. “We’re heading straight back into orbit and maybe Captain Flint has an idea of what’ll happen after that.”

“I’ll tell you when we’re on the shuttle,” said Flint. “At least, I’ll tell you what I know.”

He emerged from beneath the Vengeance and the wind-driven rain lashed against his suit. Overhead, a dark grey canopy made everything murky, even though it was the middle of Terrani’s day. Once he made it to the shuttle’s access steps, Flint climbed rapidly, using one hand on the rail to haul himself upwards.

The figure he’d seen earlier was gone and since the Daklan weren’t timid, he assumed it was part of the shuttle’s crew and had gone elsewhere. Passing quickly through the airlock, Flint entered a short corridor which led into the passenger bay. A brief scan of the place revealed no surprises – seats for two hundred, several viewscreens and a replicator, along with two further exits leading to other areas of the shuttle.

Coming after Flint, the rest of the personnel from the Vengeance entered the bay. Half of the soldiers made a beeline for the replicator and the other half hunted out the best seats, though by what criteria they made the judgement, Flint had no idea.

“The outer door is closing, sir,” said Private Drawl. “I guess we aren’t sticking around. No, wait. The door is opening again.”

Flint’s curiosity got the better of his growing sense of anger at being told nothing about where he was going or why. He walked back along one of the aisles separating the seats and looked towards the airlock. Sure enough, the door was open again and someone was climbing the steps. This person crossed the airlock and entered the passenger bay.

“Captain Flint,” said Commander Jo Larson in greeting.

“Commander Larson,” he said, wondering what she was doing on the shuttle. “I’m glad to see you, but—" He shrugged and didn’t finish the sentence.

“This shuttle is taking us to the Nightfall,” said Larson.

“I was hoping we’d be staying on the ground long enough for me to get one of those Daklan massages I’ve been hearing about,” said Drawl, who was close enough to listen. “And my eyebrows could do with plucking. The Nightfall is a warship, is it?”

“It’s your ass hairs that need plucking, Drawl,” said Private Steigers from nearby. “I reckon you’d need to be as strong as a Daklan to pull those wires out.”

Usually, Flint would have listened to the exchange with interest. Right now, he wanted to speak with Larson and he impatiently waved Drawl away. At that same moment, the voice of the Daklan pilot came through the ceiling speakers.

“We are lifting off.”

The bass drone of the shuttle’s engines abruptly increased in volume and Flint felt the vessel tilt fractionally as it rose from the surface. He steadied himself and sent a private channel request to Larson’s suit comms.

“What’s going on?” he asked when the link was made. “You told me we’re on our way to the Nightfall and I’ve seen enough to guess it can punch a hole through anything smaller than a gas giant. I’d dearly like someone to tell me what we’re going to do with that warship.”

“We’re going to kill aliens,” said Larson. She smiled radiantly. “And best of all, I’m joining your crew.”

On top of everything else, this was a surprise Flint wasn’t prepared for. He fumbled for something to say.

“I’ll be happy to have you along, Commander. What role are you taking?”

Larson’s expression showed a brief discomfort. “Exactly the same role as I had on the Vengeance. I’m afraid Commander Maddox is taking a temporary drop in responsibility for this one. She’ll be sitting with me as backup – the Nightfall has far more weapons than one person can handle, but for this mission I’m your second.”

“If that’s what the orders are, then that’s how it’ll be,” said Flint. It was going to be a kick in the teeth for Maddox, but even from his limited time with Larson, Flint could tell she was a more accomplished officer. Whether that was from experience or innate competence, he refused to speculate. “I still don’t know anything about the mission,” he said.

Larson flashed him another smile. “That makes two of us. Admiral Aston is waiting to hear. The moment the mission documentation comes through, we’ll know about it.”

The Daklan shuttle’s engines continued their thunder and the bay viewscreens lit up suddenly. The view outside was of clouds, far below, and receding at a rate which suggested the vessel was capable of a much greater velocity than Flint had first thought.

Events were moving fast, and he didn’t know where they were leading him. One thing was sure - Flint was damned glad he’d managed those six hours of sleep on the Vengeance. Thinking into the future, he wasn’t sure how long it would be until he was given another opportunity for rest.

We’re going to kill aliens.

The thought was comforting and Flint reminded himself that whatever the details of the coming mission, he’d have a chance to make a difference.

Chapter Three

“This shuttle will re-enter local space in ten minutes,” said the unseen Daklan pilot over the internal comms.

A few of the soldiers in the passenger bay cursed mildly, as if the coming transition was only a minor inconvenience. Flint was beginning to wonder if he had a physical vulnerability that made him suffer more than others. Or maybe everyone else just handled lightspeed better than he did.

“Only a short trip,” said Larson, sitting in the adjacent chair. The seats were built for Daklan and she looked too small for it, and her feet hardly touched the ground.

“Two hours,” Flint nodded, his attention on the empty cup in his hand. “Plenty of time to get a safe distance from Terrani, even at a low multiplier.”

“The mission files might be ready.”

“Where do you think those documents will tell us to go?”

“Basalt,” said Larson.

“That’s what I think as well,” said Flint.

“You sound disappointed.”

“The Kilvar act and we react. When will we get onto the front foot?”

“That’ll happen when we figure out how to overcome the enemy defences,” said Larson. “It could be we already have that information, hidden somewhere in the files we pulled from the Ancidium’s databanks.”

“It’ll take time to locate it. After that, we’ll need time to modify our weaponry.”

“Are you pessimistic by nature, Captain Flint?”

“I always thought I was the opposite,” said Flint. “I guess the hardships of war have taken me by surprise.”

“I’ll promise you one thing, though you won’t like to hear it,” said Larson, notes of sadness in her voice. “It won’t get easier. If you can’t come to terms with that, you’re going to run into a situation where your mind holds you back from doing the right thing. When that happens, you won’t be the only one who dies.”

“Thank you for your insight, Commander.” Flint smiled. “I’ll think on what you said.”

“Don’t spend too long thinking,” said Larson. “You’ve been trusted to command one of the most potent warships in the entire alliance fleet.”

“Selected for the role by those mysterious metrics,” said Flint.

“The Expectancy Delta,” Larson replied. “I’m not sure why Admiral Aston didn’t want to tell you about it.”

“I never heard of the Expectancy Delta,” said Flint. “How does it work?”

“I don’t know how the end product is generated,” Larson confessed. “I doubt even the Fleet Admiral knows. We have teams who analyse the data from every flight log, combine it with stuff only they know about, mix in some other crap, put it all into a rack of obliterator cores and out pops a number. The higher this number, the more an officer is judged likely to emerge from an apparently unwinnable engagement on the right side of death.”

“What about engagements that are balanced rather than unwinnable?” asked Flint.

“Those ones aren’t important,” said Larson with conviction. “The alliance trains its officers to handle the balanced fights. Statistical analysis indicates that the improbable victories carry an exceptional weighting in determining the outcome of a war. Even one or two such victories over the course of a conflict can be the difference between an eventual win or a loss.”

“Who am I to argue against statistics?” said Flint.

“You sound like Captain – I mean Fleet Admiral – Recker,” said Larson. “His embrace of statistics is reluctant at best.”

“He seems to put a lot of faith in them.”

“Don’t be fooled. Fleet Admiral Recker likes to keep his options open. He would hate it if his prejudices made him a less effective officer.”

“I must have a high score if I’ve been given command of the Nightfall before all the other officers in the alliance,” said Flint. “And I don’t mean this with pride, but ahead of you and Admiral Aston. The two of you have accomplishments way beyond any of mine.”

“As you said – you’re in command of the Nightfall. That tells you everything.”

“How do you know all this stuff anyway?” asked Flint. “I keep my ear to the ground, like I said, I never heard about the Expectancy Delta.”

“I get told a lot of things that most others don’t, and I make no apologies for it,” said Larson. “There are a few of us who came through some real hard times and we still talk.”

“You’re friends?” asked Flint.

Larson stared at him for a long moment. “Yes. Off duty, we’re friends.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Flint. He gave in to curiosity. “What score did the Fleet Admiral come out with?”

“He won’t say,” said Larson. “I don’t think he’s even comfortable using the Expectancy Deltas for alliance personnel.”

“Perhaps he sees them as dehumanising,” said Flint. “It doesn’t matter how hard you train or how skilled you are, this single number rules them all.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” said Larson. “An officer might have the highest Expectancy Delta in the entire alliance, but if he or she scores badly everywhere else, they’re not going to be promoted and definitely not going to be given command of an exium-powered annihilator.” She hesitated. “They’ve started applying Expectancy Delta calculations to warships as well.”

Flint didn’t know what he thought about that. “People…humans, Daklan, I can understand. But warships?”

“Apparently the statistical evidence suggests that combining the right officer with the right spaceship achieves better results.”

“I’m glad we’re leaving no stone unturned,” Flint said, putting in an effort to sound genuine. “What’s the highest scoring warship in the fleet?”

“Guess.”

“Definitely not the Firestorm. The Vengeance or the Langinstol.”

“It’s both – their scores are identical,” said Larson. “I imagine the Nightfall and Takrivon have yet to earn a score.”

A thought jumped into Flint’s head. “Captain Vazox will be in command of the Takrivon.”

“I don’t know if that’s the case, but I wouldn’t bet against it,” Larson said. “One ship under human command and one with a Daklan crew. The strengths of both species combined.”

The bay speakers crackled. “This shuttle will re-enter local space in two minutes.”

Flint shifted in his seat, his mouth dry again. He didn’t want to make a trip to the replicator with the transition incoming, so he sat it out. The shuttle’s engines produced a grating vibration which rose to a crescendo before dropping to a whisper.

“Here we go,” said Flint.

He clenched his teeth and tensed his muscles. The spaceship exited lightspeed and Flint grimaced at the discomfort. It passed soon enough, and he gave Larson a sideways glance. She appeared completely unaffected.

Larson caught him looking. “I’m one of those people,” she said. “Even the worst transitions don’t bother me much. I don’t get hangovers either.”

“Lucky for some,” said Flint, opening and closing his fists to get rid of the numbness in his fingers. He pointed at the nearest viewscreen, which wasn’t yet showing a feed. “Let’s see where we’ve ended up.”

A few seconds later, the shuttle’s sensors came online and the screen lit up. As Flint expected, it showed darkness and little else.

“Out in the middle of nowhere,” he said. “A good place for a rendezvous.”

“I’m assuming the Nightfall won’t be here yet,” said Larson. “The mission planners won’t want it staying in a single location any longer than necessary.”

“Let’s hope they don’t keep us waiting,” said Flint, pushing to his feet.

His empty cup was still in his hand and he headed for the replicator. Before he’d made two paces, an object appeared on the viewscreen, no more than a dot far in the distance. That dot grew rapidly until it completely occupied the sensor’s viewing arc. The warship – which Flint had recognized as the Nightfall – decelerated sharply and then maintained a steady distance from the shuttle’s portside flank. Here in the metal, everything looked far more real than it did on the 3D model he’d seen on the Vengeance.

“What the hell?” said Private Fidel Coates, alarmed by the sudden appearance of the spaceship.

“Stay calm - this one’s ours,” said Flint.

“It’s a big bastard right enough,” said Private Ken Raimi.

“Is someone going to tell us what we’re doing out here?” asked Private Faye Raven. “I’m accustomed to operating on a need-to-know basis, but if I’m boarding that warship I’d say it qualifies as something I need to know.”

“Quiet,” growled Lieutenant Vance. He knew when it was time to press for information and that time wasn’t now.

“It’s the Nightfall,” said Flint. “We’re going onboard. What happens after that, you’ll all find out shortly after I do.”

“This is a big shuttle,” said Corporal Stoner Givens doubtfully. “Are we docking?”

“The Nightfall is a Daklan annihilator,” said Sergeant Tagra. “There will be a place for this shuttle.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Givens. “I’m not much in the mood for a spacewalk.”

The shuttle’s crew were aware of the need to dock quickly and the vessel banked towards the Nightfall. A hatch opened in the battleship’s armour plating and the tunnel beyond it was unlit. Flint watched as the distance between the two spaceships decreased and, from the constant changes in the shuttle’s propulsion note, he guessed its pilot had activated an auto-docking routine.

“Here we go,” said Private Ossie Carrington, with just a hint of nervousness.

Decelerating only at the last moment, the shuttle slid with computer precision into the opening in the Nightfall’s hull. The vessel slowed further and then came to a halt several hundred metres inside the annihilator. Flint knew the Daklan battleships were heavily armoured, but the Nightfall seemed particularly well clad.

“You have arrived,” said the Daklan pilot.

It was such a banal statement that Flint wasn’t sure if it was said as a joke or not. Even though he’d worked alongside plenty of Daklan, reading them was still difficult.

“Let’s get out there,” said Flint. So far, the guidance for this mission was close to non-existent, but he knew his destination. “We’ve got to find the bridge.”

Flint was first into the shuttle airlock. Both outer and inner lights were green, letting him know the docking bay had an atmosphere. He touched the access panel and the door opened. The lights had come on now and they were muted enough that his eyes didn’t need to adjust. Cold air rushed into the shuttle, bringing with it the odours of alloy and ternium. Flint paused for a split-second to inhale and then stepped across the six-inch gap separating the shuttle’s flank from the personnel walkway.

The bay wasn’t a complicated space, and the shuttle blocked his view of everything bar the walkway. A door, fifty metres away, was illuminated in green and offered the only exit. Flint headed for it, turning mid-stride to check for his crew. Commander Maddox – now Acting Lieutenant Maddox – was right behind him. She smiled behind her visor and Flint gave her a thumbs-up. Having been told about her reduced level of responsibility on the Nightfall, she’d acted like a real professional and had taken it on the chin. Not that she had much choice in the matter, but Flint wasn’t an ass and nor did he want to deal with a sullen officer.

“Lieutenant Vance, my crew and I are going straight for the bridge,” said Flint on the platoon comms channel. “I’m sure you can find someplace to put your feet up.”

“Yes, sir,” said Vance. “Are we the only soldiers onboard?”

“I don’t know. You’ll soon find out.”

Vance was a pro as well and he didn’t ask anything else. This was nothing new to him or his platoon and they’d stay out of the way until told otherwise.

Once Flint had reassured himself his crew were off the shuttle, he reached for the panel operating the bay exit door. In that moment, a sense of the enormity struck him. The Nightfall was his warship. Not only that, it was a damned annihilator fitted with a damned exium module, and high command believed he was the best man to pilot it.

He thumped his hand on the access panel and the door opened onto a passage heading left. Delaying no longer, Flint exited the bay and ran for the next intersection. A warship never had signage and the Nightfall was no exception. Equally, they were rarely difficult to navigate and Flint confidently turned right at the intersection.

On he went, instinctively knowing which way to go. The Nightfall’s corridors were no different to those on other Daklan warships, being slightly wider and with higher ceilings than those on their human equivalents. The solidity was there, along with the sense of incredible mass and infinite age. While the Nightfall was fresh out of the shipyard, every atom from which it was built was billions of years old, and it was something Flint felt keenly – that he was no more than an ephemeral mote in time’s endless passage.

Without taking a single wrong turning, Flint arrived at the bottom of steps leading up. At the top was a door, currently closed, and a minigun pointed his way from the ceiling above.

“I wonder who’s crewing the ship,” said Lieutenant Fredericks.

“We’re going to find out,” said Flint, climbing the stairs.

The risers were high – suitable for Daklan legs – and his muscles complained at the extra effort. At the top, he could hear the quiet whining of the minigun’s power supply. Locating the access panel, he struck it with his palm and the bridge door opened at once.

Crossing the threshold, Flint scanned a space which was shaped like a trapezium – one which tapered towards the vessel’s nose. It was predictably claustrophobic even though it was designed to be operated by a Daklan crew. The forward bulkhead screens displayed a variety of feeds and the central one was locked onto a warship which Flint recognized as the Takrivon. Its Terrus-V cannons appeared larger than he remembered, and he wondered if the final operational design had grown since the 3D model was first generated.

Flint counted ten crew stations – three at the comms console, three on propulsion and the other four at the forward bulkhead. The hardware was familiar, being the same console types as were installed on the latest warships. Five of the seats were currently occupied - none at the command station. Those five personnel rose, waiting to hear what Flint would say.

“I’m Captain Flint,” he announced. “Who is piloting this vessel?”

A man rose from the comms station. He had stubble, unruly hair and he looked to be in his mid-forties. “Lieutenant Burner, sir,” he introduced himself. “We’re being remote-piloted by the Takrivon.”

Something about this comms officer triggered a memory in Flint. “You’re Lieutenant Adam Burner?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, one and the same.” Burner leaned slightly to one side and waved informally at Commander Larson. “Long time no see, Commander.”

“I was in a stasis sphere,” said Larson, as if it were a daily occurrence. “It held me up for a while.”

“So I’ve been told,” said Burner. He grinned. “Good to have you back.”

“You can get reacquainted later,” said Flint. He scanned the other personnel, not seeing anyone familiar. “What are your given duties?” he asked.

“Lieutenant Copeland, sir,” said one – a woman in her thirties with high cheekbones and clear blue eyes. “We were told you’d be bringing your own crew onboard and we were instructed to act as backup.”

Flint had two comms officers he trusted already and Burner had flown with Captain Recker, making him a decisive third. “You and you,” said Flint, selecting the two others – a man and a woman – who were at the comms station. “You’re off duty until I call you.”

“Yes, sir,” they said at once.

That left two unknown officers on propulsion and Flint was sure they had the skills and experience. “Which of you is senior?” he asked.

“I have the most service hours, sir,” said Copeland. “Not as much combat experience as I’d like, but I see this as my chance to add to the total.”

“Good, you’re staying.”

For a moment, Flint agonised over whether he should assign Lieutenant Bolan to backup duties. He and Lieutenant Becerra lacked duty hours, but the latter had really shone during the first engagement with the Kilvar at Basalt and, while Bolan had only performed to expectations, he’d still come through. Flint made his choice and dismissed the unknown officer. The man acknowledged the order and followed the others off the bridge.

“Well, folks, we’re here. Take your stations and let’s find out what the Nightfall is capable of.”

“And let’s find out if that mission documentation arrived, sir,” said Fredericks.

“That as well,” said Flint. He hurried between the comms and engine consoles and dropped into the left-hand seat at the command station. The seat was human size, for which he was immensely grateful. “Commander Larson,” he said, pointing at the station adjacent and to his right. “And you, Lieutenant Maddox,” he finished, indicating the farthest seat right.

“Sir, I have Captain Vazox on the comms for you,” said Lieutenant Burner.

This confirmation of the Takrivon’s commanding officer was no surprise whatsoever. In fact, Flint would have been taken aback had it been anyone other than Vazox.

“Maybe he knows more about what’s happening than we do,” said Maddox.

“Let’s find out,” said Flint, signalling for an open channel. “Bring him in.”

“Captain Flint,” said Vazox in greeting, his voice harsh even by Daklan standards.

“Captain Vazox,” Flint returned. “It is good to speak with you again.”

“Last time we fought together, we were at a disadvantage,” said Vazox. “This time we have the tools to defeat our enemies. I am keen to test the edge of my blade.”

“I know little about the Nightfall and the Takrivon,” said Flint. “I need time to become familiar with these weapons.”

“And you will have that time, Captain Flint. Basalt is two hours from here and that is our destination.”

“Two hours?” asked Flint. “Basalt should be days away.”

“Not when you have the power of exium!” said Vazox. “With it, our vessels can travel through lightspeed at a vastly increased multiplier.”

Flint took a deep breath. “Tell me, Captain Vazox, what is your experience of exium?”

“I am under no illusions as to the risks, human,” said Vazox. “I will embrace them.”

“How many warships will accompany us?” asked Flint.

“Other warships?” asked Vazox in surprise. “There will be no other warships beyond the Takrivon and the Nightfall.”

“The Kilvar have a fleet at Basalt,” said Flint. “Eighteen versus two is not realistic odds.”

“Perhaps I was not clear,” said Vazox. “The alliance has gathered more than fifty warships which are stationed beyond the last planet in the Reldus system.”

“At Soval,” said Flint.

“Yes, Soval. Those warships are a single SRT away from Basalt, or indeed from assisting our endeavours. However, their weapons are ineffective so they must not be brought into the conflict unless it is vital.”

“What about the ternium drive shutdown weapon the Kilvar employed against alliance warships in previous engagements?” asked Flint. He had plenty to catch up on since his return from the Ancidium.

“We have developed a counter,” said Vazox. “It not one hundred percent effective – our vessels suffer reduced output – but it is enough to ensure our fleet will not be easily disabled. At least not by the method of propulsion shutdown.”

“That’s something,” said Flint.

“Something is not always enough.”

“What about the Nightfall and Takrivon? This mission is going to be tough enough as it is. I’d rather I could rely on my engines.”

“These annihilators will be unaffected by ternium shutdown because of our exium modules. Or so I am informed. The combat testing falls to us, Captain Flint.”

Flint nodded, wondering if he heard eagerness in the Daklan’s voice. “This is a bad situation.”

“Maybe the Takrivon and Nightfall will destroy the Kilvar fleet, or – more likely - we will ourselves be destroyed,” said Vazox. The white noise of his laugher burst from the bridge speakers. “One thing is certain – we will learn much about our warships!”

Given the option, Flint would have done that learning in a simulator environment, or perhaps somewhere far from the enemy. Having been offered glimpses of how the alliance’s most accomplished officers dealt with a situation, he was rapidly coming to terms with the knowledge that rarely would he be granted the luxury of time. From here on, he was going to be cast into progressively deeper and more turbulent waters with the full expectation he’d claw his way to the surface and do what had to be done.

Welcome to your future.

“Captain Vazox, I am ecstatic to be in command of the Nightfall. However, I require five minutes of your time before we depart. You will tell me all about this new technology.”

The laughter came again. “Very well, Captain Flint, we will delay five minutes. However, I must insist that three minutes into our conversation, you begin the warmup of your ternium drive, so we exit this place at the earliest possible moment.”

“Fine with me,” said Flint. He turned and gave Lieutenant Fredericks’ confirmation that he should follow the Daklan’s suggestion. The other man gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Captain Vazox,” Flint continued. “Tell me about the Nightfall and the Takrivon.”

Vazox talked and Flint listened. With each passing moment, his excitement and fear grew. These two annihilators were more than just mobile cannons. What they could bring to the alliance was – assuming their exium modules didn’t introduce explosive criticalities in their propulsions – a whole lot more.

Five minutes later, the Nightfall and the Takrivon entered lightspeed.

Chapter Four

“Here’s what we have,” said Flint, facing his crew. The Nightfall’s engines were loud, but not so much that he had to shout. “Part of Basalt’s satellite network went down while we were riding on the shuttle. A few of the planet’s sensors are still operational, along with some of the comms – mostly the low-speed stuff, but a few FTL transmitters were working up until the Nightfall entered lightspeed.”

“But no real-time FTL comms,” said Burner.

“We’ll be near enough to the planet that it won’t make a difference. If the Fleet Admiral wants to speak with us, he can do so easily,” said Flint. His eyes went to the timer he had running on one of the bulkhead screens. Ten minutes of the two hours were already gone and he had plenty left to discuss.

“The Kilvar might be able to intercept our comms, sir,” said Burner. “At the very least they may have monitoring hardware that detects the presence of comms traffic. It’s possible they’ll realise alliance spaceships are in the Reldus system.”

“We’ll keep our comms to a minimum,” said Flint. “So far, we’ve seen no evidence the Kilvar can intercept our traffic.”

“It’s not the sort of thing you’d let on about, sir,” Burner persisted.

“Like I said, we’ll use the comms as little as possible,” said Flint. “Now let’s move on.” He took a breath. “Before the satellite monitors went offline, they detected a total of eighteen enemy warships, which you already know. They’re the type we encountered at Basalt before and the smallest is eight thousand metres with a hundred-billion-ton mass. A few of the others are larger – maybe twice the Nightfall’s mass. There are no reports of carriers, meaning we shouldn’t run into any surprises.”

“Eighteen is plenty, sir,” said Lieutenant Fredericks.

Flint turned to check the mission documentation which had arrived in the last few seconds before the Nightfall entered lightspeed. In terms of brevity it set new records, and much of it was padding. In a way, it was liberating, and allowed Flint to approach the mission however he saw fit.

“Our primary goal is to destroy the Kilvar fleet or – more likely – draw them away from Basalt long enough that our loaded interstellars can lift off and escape,” he said.

“Assuming those interstellars make it into lightspeed, how much of the planet’s population will be left behind?” asked Maddox.

“Billions,” said Flint. “However, every person who escapes is a life saved and one less life for the Kilvar to steal.”

“What happens if we’re successful in achieving the primary goal, sir?” asked Fredericks.

“We have no stated secondary mission goals, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “It is likely Fleet Admiral Recker will have something for us, but right now, we’re to assist those interstellars. And for once, we might have the right tool for the job.” He paused to see which of his crew members would state the obvious.

Lieutenant Garrett got the prize. “Assuming RL Moseley has figured out how to make the exium work reliably.”

“No guarantees,” said Flint. “Five months is a long time and we’re going to give the man and his team the benefit of the doubt. We’re heading into this with the expectation that the technology will do exactly what we want it to do.”

“But—” said Garrett.

“I don’t want to hear any more about it, Lieutenant. Not when it hasn’t happened.”

Garrett shut her mouth. “Yes, sir.”

“You all heard what Captain Vazox had to say,” Flint continued. “Our exium module allows us to enter what is known as a phase shift. What this means is we’ll be placed in a time stream that’s exactly one second behind our current time stream.”

“As easy as that,” said Maddox.

“No, not as easy as that,” said Flint testily. “We’re using a massive block of the most potent substance in the known universe to accomplish it.”

“Point taken, sir.”

Flint continued. “With the Nightfall in this phased state, we should be undetectable to the enemy sensors and immune to their weapons. At the same time, the Kilvar warships will be invisible to us and our weapons will not target their vessels, nor damage them should we initiate a launch against a stationary target in a known location.”

“There’s more to it than that, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’ve got the summary files on my screen and it’s not just warships we’ll be unable to see – it’s everything. There’s also speculation that while we’re phase shifted, we’ll be able to fly straight through anything in normal phase like it doesn’t exist.”

“I love speculation,” said Maddox. “It makes everything so much easier.”

“So they didn’t finish the testing. This is what happens in extreme circumstances,” said Flint. “We’ve got the ability to phase shift and we’ve been given the opportunity to fill in those blanks.”

“I can’t understand how a phase shift will help us, sir,” said Becerra. “If we can’t see the Kilvar and they can’t see us, how are we going to intervene at Basalt?”

“At the very least, it’ll be a combat reset,” said Flint. He smiled thinly. “With limitations, of course.”

“A five-minute cooldown every time we change state,” said Fredericks. “Everything has a damn five-minute cooldown.”

“This time we have no mesh deflectors to watch,” Flint reminded him. “The Nightfall is equipped with a proper energy shield, which means we can play with the big boys.”

“A shame about the lack of combat testing,” said Fredericks. “And a double shame we have to be in superstress before any of this new tech will function.”

“It’s a different kind of superstress,” said Flint. He didn’t want to say it, but went right out did it anyway. “A controlled superstress.”

“Controlled,” said Fredericks, as if he were contemplating the most outlandish concept imaginable.

“Plus twin destroyer cannons,” said Flint, keen to shift attention away from the unpredictability of exium.

His attempt failed.

“Destroyer cannons which also require superstress,” said Maddox.

Flint pursed his lips, angered by the negativity. “Those people on Basalt are relying on us,” he said, an edge to his voice. “And in order to save them from death, we’ve been given an annihilator equipped with the kind of defences and weaponry the alliance could have only dreamed about a year or two ago. We’ve been trusted with bringing it into the field and by hell we’re going to show those Kilvar what it’s capable of!” His voice climbed despite his efforts and he paused. “From now on, the talk is about how we’re going to make it work, not how it’s going to fail. Is that understood?”

The line was drawn and Flint waited to see how the crew would react.

“If you want something positive, I’ve found it, sir,” said Fredericks. “We’re fitted with ternium wave suppressors.”

“How do they work?” asked Flint. “I want the short version, not the long one.”

“Yes, sir. The ternium wave suppressors are designed to activate automatically when we exit lightspeed or enter a short-range lightspeed transit. They nullify the particle wave before it can form.”

“Which – in theory – means we don’t have to worry so much about being detected when we arrive in the Reldus system,” said Flint.

“That’s the idea, sir,” said Fredericks. “I know the alliance has been working on this tech for years, but I didn’t know it was so close to readiness.”

“And is it ready?” asked Flint.

“Yes, sir. The technical documentation has accompanying test data for both the Nightfall and the Takrivon – the suppressors reduce the particle wave density by more than ninety-nine percent.”

“Not perfect, but enough to rely on,” said Flint. “The suppressors should be a big help.”

“As long as we don’t try something stupid like a doorstep arrival,” said Fredericks. “We can’t detect the Kilvar when they exit lightspeed, so I guess they have a similar method of nullifying their ternium waves.”

“And now we’ve caught up with their technology,” said Flint with harsh satisfaction. “Right, what else did Captain Vazox not mention in his five minutes?”

“The destroyer cannons only have a thirty second cooldown, which is a whole lot better than five minutes,” said Maddox. “Assuming they bypass the immunity of the Kilvar warships, we’ll be able to knock out a couple of those bastards in quick succession.”

“I want to see what the Terrus-V cannons on the Takrivon are capable of,” said Becerra. “I’ve heard the projectile velocity approaches lightspeed.”

“That’s right,” said Commander Larson. “And they pack an incredible punch. Back in the Lavorix wars I was comms officer on a Meklon battleship called Fulcrum, which was designed to carry a weapon called the tri-cannon. The tri-cannon fired ternium accelerated projectiles and that’s where we obtained some of the technical know-how for the Terrus-Vs.” Larson’s gaze was distant. “We hit the Galactar with a single tri-cannon shot and it was enough to buy us the time we needed to escape.”

“Day by day we become stronger,” said Flint. “When we’re done with them, the Kilvar are going to wish they never thought about ascending.”

“I spoke to Lieutenant Vance after he came off the Ancidium,” said Larson. “Whatever entity was in that sphere he found, it thought we – humans and Daklan – were different. We created exium – something the entity believed was beyond both the Kilvar and the Lavorix.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” said Flint. He’d also spoken to Lieutenant Vance and thought hard about what the man had learned.

“I know,” said Larson sorrowfully. “The alliance is useful for now. When this war is over, if it ends in our favour, we’ll be a danger to whatever created the Lavorix.”

“We’re too far along the road to be ignored,” Flint nodded. “When the time comes, the alliance needs to be more than a danger. We need to be so dangerous that nothing will dare start hostilities against us.”

“One step at a time,” said Larson. “That’s what we always used to say.”

“The Nightfall and the Takrivon are a dozen steps all in one,” said Flint. “And even if we fail, the next versions out of the shipyard will be twice as tough and hit twice as hard.”

“Amen to that,” said Garrett.

“Sir, I know we’re not criticising the hardware anymore, but we can still talk about the unknowns, right?” said Fredericks.

“Just so long as it’s practical talk,” said Flint.

“I’ve only had a few minutes to look at the technical data, sir, but these new systems draw a lot of power. And I mean a hell of a lot.”

“What’s your specific concern, Lieutenant?” asked Flint.

“It comes down to the lack of combat testing I mentioned earlier, sir. When they’re in a controlled superstress, the propulsion modules can provide enough power for the individual systems. What I’m not so sure about is what will happen if we’re required to discharge both destroyer cannons at the same time as our energy shield is under heavy bombardment, and then we decide to activate the phase shift. In order to compensate, the exium module might well alter the level of superstress, increasing the likelihood of a criticality on the ternium modules.”

“Is that how the control software is programmed to react?” asked Flint. “By increasing the superstress?”

“Yes, sir, that’s what I believe. Clearly, it would be a disaster if a critical system became unavailable because of an energy shortfall. Therefore, the control software will do whatever is necessary to ensure those systems always have the supply they need.”

“The Nightfall is an annihilator battleship,” said Flint. “It is carrying enough weapons to level continents. However, if we approach this mission expecting to chain-discharge the destroyer cannons while relying entirely on the energy shield for defence, we’re doing it wrong.” Flint spoke the words confidently, though he knew the responsibility to live up to them was entirely his own.

“We want this mission to succeed,” said Maddox. “We all do.”

“I know,” said Flint. He glanced again at the timer. “We have a hundred minutes left before we exit lightspeed at the Reldus system. I want each one of you to spend that time at your consoles so that when we face the Kilvar you’ll know exactly what this warship is capable of. This is going to be a test, and when we’re finished, I want us all to be certain we did our best.”

With the discussion over, Flint took his seat again. Sensing Larson’s gaze, he looked her way, wondering if she had something to add. She didn’t speak and gave her attention once more to the weapons console.

Two hours of preparation wasn’t much for any mission - let alone one in which so many lives were at stake - and Flint got to work on his own console. The bridge hardware was the same as it was on any other fleet warship, and he was impressed to discover that the shipyard had loaded his weighting preferences for the control bars. For decades the HPA had designed their different warship classes to be as similar as possible, ensuring that an officer in charge of – for example - a riot class, could take command of a more potent vessel without the requirement for much additional training.

That design philosophy meant Flint already felt at home with the basics of the Nightfall’s conventional offensive and defensive hardware, albeit the warship possessed both in far greater quantities than any other vessel he’d commanded. With the basics in place, it was easy for him to focus on the less conventional technologies. After thirty minutes, Flint felt like he had a solid grasp of the new tech and believed he had as good a chance as anyone of pulling out a good result from the coming mission.

Having Captain Vazox on the Takrivon was another bonus, given the Daklan’s extensive track record of emerging from what Commander Larson had described as apparently unwinnable engagements. No doubt Vazox’s Expectancy Delta was off the charts, and Flint was glad of it.

Moving on from the hardware, Flint checked the internal monitors to find out if the Nightfall was carrying any other personnel. Lieutenant Vance and his platoon were the only soldiers onboard, which Flint at first thought was strange given that an annihilator had space for thousands of troops. Since this was clearly no accidental omission, he guessed the mission planners hadn’t anticipated the need for a deployment. After all, hundreds of thousands of soldiers were stationed on Basalt. Presumably, they were expected to deal with the Kilvar on the ground.

Regardless of its lack of troops, the annihilator carried a total of eight shuttles, four of which were heavily armoured transports and the other four being smaller types suitable for rapid deployments. Flint was sure most of those shuttles would be staying in their bays.

“Looks like we have everything we need,” he said at last.

“Construction work on the Nightfall and Takrivon must have started long before this most recent attack on Basalt,” said Larson thoughtfully.

“You think they were intended for a specific purpose elsewhere?” asked Flint.

“I don’t know. Maybe. The alliance military has dozens of major projects on the go at any one time and hundreds of minor ones. I don’t hear everything.”

“Don’t worry, Commander – I won’t ask every question with the assumption you’ve been told the answer already.”

“And I won’t hold anything back if I think it’ll benefit this mission.”

“I didn’t for a moment think you would.”

Larson grinned. “Fleet Admiral Recker would strangle me if he thought I was withholding something you needed to hear. Believe it or not, he hates secrets.”

“I believe it,” said Flint, having already come to that conclusion based on his earlier dealings with the man. “Anyway, I need to speak with Lieutenant Vance.”

He located Vance on the internal comms network and opened a channel.

“Lieutenant Vance, I thought I’d see how you’re getting on.”

“It’s a bit empty, sir. Everyone in the platoon has their own replicator.”

“I don’t think the Nightfall will be acting as a deployment vessel on this mission, Lieutenant. Anyway, it sounds like you’ve made yourselves at home.”

“No deployment, sir?” said Vance. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Flint didn’t argue. He closed out of the channel and his eyes went straight to the timer. Not many minutes remained and he was determined to spend them wisely. He called up the technical documentation and skimmed through it again. Much of it was too in depth for Flint to easily understand, but whoever had compiled the files had written excellent summaries which told him everything he needed to know.

As long as everything works like it’s meant to.

He cursed himself for the thought, particularly because he’d not long ago berated his crew for voicing their own concerns about the hardware. The unreliability of the exium was hard to ignore and his past experiences with the substance were hard to forget.

“Ten minutes and we break lightspeed!” shouted Fredericks.

Flint stood once more. “Listen up!” he said. “You know what’s coming and you’ve had enough time to prepare. We’re aiming for a half-billion klicks from Basalt, which should be plenty given those ternium wave suppressors we’re fitted with. From our arrival point, we’re going to scan and choose the best course of action. With eighteen Kilvar warships arrayed against us, we’ve got our work cut out, but we’re going to make this work.”

It wasn’t much of a speech, but Flint thought it was enough. He sat and waited, his eyes hardly leaving the digits on the timer.

Chapter Five

The Nightfall’s propulsion went eerily silent in the moments before the warship re-entered local space. Flint gripped the controls tightly and his eyes darted from place to place. Lightspeed travel played havoc with the instrumentation and many of the readouts were garbled nonsense.

“Here we go,” said Larson.

A shuddering vibration rolled through the warship and the electronic needles on Flint’s panel jumped frantically. He didn’t wait for them to settle. Switching the propulsion into high overstress, Flint requested maximum power from the engines and slammed the control bars all the way along their guide slots. A thunderous roar became a howl and he was forced into the padding of his seat by the ferocious acceleration. The sound and the rawness of it was intoxicating and Flint at once understood why the Daklan annihilators had such a fearsome reputation.

“Get me those sensor feeds!” he shouted over the noise. “Lieutenant Fredericks, confirm the ternium suppressors activated!”

“Checking, sir.”

“Sensors coming up,” Burner confirmed.

“As soon as they’re online, I’ll request a comms link to the Takrivon,” said Becerra.

The few seconds waiting for the initial status updates were stressful and Flint banked the Nightfall left and right in case the Kilvar had detected the lightspeed arrival. “Lieutenant Fredericks?” he demanded.

“Apologies for the delay, sir. I can confirm the wave suppressors activated successfully. If the Kilvar detect us, it’ll be down to bad luck and nothing else.”

“Sensors up!” said Burner. “Commencing near scans.”

“Working on the fars,” said Becerra.

“Lieutenant Garrett, locate the Takrivon and create a local battle network if Captain Vazox didn’t get there first,” Flint ordered.

“Yes, sir.

“Near scans complete and no hostiles detected,” said Burner. “Helping out on the fars.”

Still Flint didn’t end his evasive manoeuvres. The Nightfall’s velocity gauge was showing 3500 kilometres per second and he was sure it had plenty more to give, even just in overstress. What it would accomplish in superstress, he was keen to discover.

“Captain Vazox confirms his warship is in a fully operational state,” said Garrett. “A local battle network exists already, and we’ve joined it.”

“The fleet at Soval,” said Flint in understanding. “Who commands?”

“Admiral Sammy Wallace, sir.”

“I don’t remember the name,” said Flint. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

A glance at the tactical showed him the Takrivon’s position, barely a hundred thousand kilometres from the Nightfall. When he zoomed the view out as far as it would go, the fifty-two warships under Admiral Wallace showed up on the far side of planet Soval. Those warships weren’t moving.

“I’ve asked for the latest information on the Kilvar,” sir,” said Garrett. “I’ll have it for you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

“Sir, you should consider putting the engines into superstress,” said Larson. “Without it, the destroyer cannons won’t fire and the energy shield won’t activate.”

Flint knew he couldn’t afford to handle the Nightfall with kid gloves. He reached out and pushed a button – a red button – on his control panel. “Superstress activated.”

Immediately, the familiar howl of overstressed ternium changed into the equally familiar inhalation sound of superstress. The Nightfall’s engine mass was vastly greater than that on Flint’s old ship Firestorm, and the noise of superstress was even more intimidating. A shiver of cold fear ran down his spine. He’d opened the box and looked inside, and the price for his temerity would be death. The only question was when it would come knocking.

“Lieutenant Fredericks – keep a close watch on our engines. If you detect anything unusual, let me know at once,” Flint shouted.

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’ve got plenty of monitoring tools – far more than were available on the Firestorm. There’s also some configuration software which – from the readme file – will automatically correct any criticalities as they appear.”

“A readme file?” asked Garrett in disbelief. “Welcome to eight centuries ago.”

“Quiet,” snapped Flint. “What’s your feeling about that software, Lieutenant Fredericks?”

“I’m passably confident, sir – the time stamps indicate it was installed a few weeks ago, so the technicians haven’t seen the need to update it since then. In my head, that means somebody thinks the software’s ready. Besides, if the correction routines fail, I’ve got a few options that will let me intervene directly.” Fredericks cleared his throat. “Of course, in the spirit of optimism, I’ve got to add that nothing whatsoever will go wrong.”

“You’re absolutely correct,” said Flint, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. He half-turned towards the comms station. “What’s the status on those fars?”

“Fars clear,” said Becerra a moment later. “We have no threats in the vicinity.”

“Keep watch,” said Flint. He breathed deeply, determined to remain calm. “And get me a sensor feed of Basalt.”

“Coming up, sir,” said Burner. “It’s not perfect at this distance.”

The planet appeared in the centre of the bulkhead screen and, though its outline was blurred and shimmered with overmagnification, Flint recognized the central landmass and the oceans to the north and south.

“We’re on the right side for Amber,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” said Burner. “Do you want me to perform a focused scan for Kilvar warships near the base?”

“We have to start somewhere,” said Flint. “I’d like to know about the enemy movement patterns.”

“Admiral Wallace has little of significance to impart, sir,” Garrett said. “He’s holding off on communications with Basalt in case the Kilvar find out about his fleet at Soval, but at some point he heard the enemy are showing an increased interest in the Amber base.”

“Have the Kilvar attacked?”

“That information is not available, sir. Admiral Wallace’s fleet is four-point-five billion klicks from Basalt and their sensors are not gathering meaningful data.”

Flint stared at the feed in thought. “Get me a comms link to Captain Vazox.”

“Link established.”

“Captain Flint,” said Vazox. “I trust your warship is battle ready.”

“We’re in superstress,” Flint confirmed.

“Good. We must discuss tactics.”

“Yes,” said Flint. “I propose we observe from our current position until we have an idea about the enemy movements. It’s possible the Kilvar have launched an attack on the Amber base.”

“The longer we remain here, the greater the chance the enemy will detect us,” said Vazox. “I am also wary the planet’s comms satellites may have been subverted. The Takrivon’s and Nightfall’s comms systems will offer those satellites an automatic handshake the moment we break our comms silence with Basalt.”

“And then the Kilvar will know exactly where we are,” said Flint. “Perhaps that will work to our benefit. Drawing the enemy away will give the Basalt interstellars time to escape.”

“Not enough time,” said Vazox firmly. “Also, it is unlikely the enemy will send more than a token force to investigate, safe in the knowledge of their assumed invulnerability to our weapons.” He made a rumbling sound. “Though they have yet to encounter our two annihilators. Perhaps this would be a good way to test our capabilities.”

“We have nothing to lose by observing, though I agree there is a small risk we will be detected,” said Flint, hearing an eagerness in the Daklan. “It is important we learn the enemy’s intentions.”

“Hmmm,” said Vazox. “I do not enjoy watching from the shadows. However, I am content to do so for now. Ultimately, this mission will not be successful if we do not fight.”

Flint wasn’t sure he completely agreed with this assertion, but neither could he currently picture a way to free the planet without a direct engagement taking place. However, just because he couldn’t think of a solution didn’t mean he wouldn’t come up with one later. Either way, he didn’t argue the point with Vazox.

“When the missiles start flying, I’d rather it happened as far from Basalt as possible.”

“The planet is judged to be at a low risk of reprisal attack,” said Vazox. “The Kilvar will not achieve their goals by incinerating everyone.”

“No, but history has taught me I should never assume a logical response from a hostile alien species.”

“I understand your concerns, human, for they are mine also. We will do what must be done without risking the lives of our people.”

Vazox’s use of the word our wasn’t lost on Flint and it was all the reassurance he needed. “We’ll watch and then we’ll act,” said Flint. “Since the enemy have landed their transports, that action must be decisive.”

“Agreed.” Vazox left the channel.

“Continue with the scans,” said Flint, aware that, for the moment, acting decisively meant holding the Nightfall stationary and watching for enemy movements. “And pay close attention to what’s happening at Amber.”

“So far, all we’re finding is emission traces, sir,” said Burner. “Those tell us the Kilvar are definitely at Basalt, but not their velocities, headings or numbers. At a quarter of a billion kilometres, we’d have a much better idea what we’re up against – including the activity at the Amber base.”

“Damnit,” said Flint. “Is there anything useful we can learn from here?”

“No, sir,” said Garrett.

“That’s not necessarily true,” said Burner. “If we watch for long enough, eventually we’ll be able to distinguish between the different emission traces.”

“How long?” asked Flint.

“It depends on the regularity of the enemy flight patterns, sir,” said Burner. “Give me an hour and I’d have a good idea of numbers and movements.”

Flint drummed his fingers. “An hour to find enemy numbers and movements already known to the planet’s satellite ring.”

“Yes, sir. If we broke comms silence for even ten seconds, I could interrogate those monitors and pull out everything we needed.”

“This is a tightrope walk,” said Flint.

The unpalatably slow and steady options were mounting up and he was sure more would be offered. Had this been an unpopulated world, he’d have felt no pressure to act. Knowing what the Kilvar had in mind for the people of Basalt, he itched to take control of the situation and find out exactly what those twin destroyer cannons on the annihilator’s nose were capable of.

Flint checked the cannons’ specifications again. Their ten-million-kilometre targeting range was immense in comparison to the lock range of a hellburner missile, but it wasn’t enough to achieve any surprise kills against the Kilvar fleet from the Nightfall’s current position.

Idly, Flint worked out the travel time of a Terrus-V projectile. At near-lightspeed, a shot from the Takrivon would require almost thirty minutes to reach Basalt. Even with precise positional data on the Kilvar ships, it wasn’t a risk any sane commander would indulge. If something went wrong – such as the target ship changing course or velocity – the potential consequences of a stray Terrus strike on Basalt were unthinkable.

“A quarter of a billion kilometres will give us the clear picture we need?” asked Flint.

“Maybe two hundred million would be better, sir,” said Burner.

“I feel like I’m haggling in a street market,” said Flint. Usually, he’d have known the answer as well as his sensor officers, but the Nightfall was a new ship and the sensors, while based on familiar technology, weren’t identical to those on the Firestorm. Generally, more arrays meant a better outcome and the Nightfall was packing plenty of hardware. “We’re going to make a lightspeed jump – tell me how near we should be to the planet at the end of it.”

“175 million klicks would be perfect, sir,” said Burner. “I’m sure Captain Vazox will agree.”

“I’m sure he will,” said Flint dryly. “Get me a comms link to the Takrivon.”

Captain Vazox accepted the link quickly. “We will not gather anything useful from this distance,” he said. “We must approach to 150 million kilometres.”

“I’ve been recommended 175 million,” said Flint.

“Why go for half-measures?” asked Vazox with a laugh. “I say 150 million! I grow impatient!”

Flint sighed inwardly. His many dealings with the Daklan had taught him much about the aliens’ approach to warfare. Usually, they favoured the shoot first method and Vazox was proving to be no exception. While Flint thought a degree of softly-softly was prudent, he reminded himself that Vazox’s combat record was extensive and without blemish. The Daklan hadn’t come so far without being able to read a situation and judge the best approach.

“Very well, 150 million kilometres it is,” said Flint. He suspected that if he turned, Lieutenant Burner would be grinning. “I admit I’m also becoming impatient.”

“I will make a Daklan out of you yet, human!” laughed Vazox. “You will receive a synch code in moments. Once you have accepted it, I will begin the warmup for our ternium drives. We will hold our SRTs in reserve for when they are needed.”

“Agreed,” said Flint. He cut the channel.

“Synch code received and accepted, sir,” said Becerra.

“The lightspeed warmup has begun,” said Fredericks. “Target distance: 150 million kilometres from Basalt.”

Flint knew this was the right approach and he’d been telling Vazox the truth about his fraying patience. His intuition was starting to get itself worked up about something and it was more than just the high stakes of the mission. Unfortunately, that intuition wasn’t telling Flint anything specific beyond letting him know something was wrong. As far as warnings went, it wasn’t much of a help.

He soon found out what had got his alarm bells ringing. With less than a minute remaining on the lightspeed countdown, four Kilvar warships exited their synchronised SRTs, fifty thousand kilometres from the Nightfall and the Takrivon.

Flint swore and readied himself for combat.

Chapter Six

Lieutenant Burner was incredibly fast on the sensors and he locked onto the individual Kilvar warships in only two or three seconds. Flint recognized the vessel type – they were ten-kilometre, near-black, elongated diamonds with forward-pointing spines from which red energy beams would soon start firing. He wasn’t planning to give these Kilvar any time to recover from their SRT and he put the Nightfall into maximum acceleration at the same time as he banked to bring the warship’s nose cannons into line. Under superstress, the velocity gauge climbed at an astonishing rate and the life support module was tapping three times its usual power in order to cope.

“We’ve got a narrow firing arc on the destroyer cannons, sir,” Larson reminded him.

“I know, Commander,” said Flint. “Let’s kill these bastards before their sensors recover from the transition.”

“I’ll have a Terrus-IV lock any moment. Holding onto our hellburners and lightspeed missiles.”

Flint’s mind went back to his first engagement with the Kilvar, where the ingar-ternium reactor explosion had created a stasis field which made the enemy warship vulnerable. He hoped more than anything that, on this occasion, plain old, honest-to-goodness, twin disintegration cannons would be sufficient.

It was immediately apparent the Kilvar wouldn’t be out of action for long. In fact, all four accelerated from their starting positions, breaking off in directions he suspected were random. Once their sensor arrays came back online, then they’d coordinate and attack – if the Nightfall and Takrivon didn’t destroy them first.

A quick check of the tactical indicated that Captain Vazox had reacted with equal speed and the Takrivon was already travelling at high velocity. It wouldn’t be long before the fun and games started.

“Terrus-IV guns T1 and T2 locked and fired,” said Larson. “Sixty thousand klicks per second projectile velocity.”

The nearest turret was hundreds of metres from the bridge, yet the shockwave of discharge was heard clearly as a boom of distant thunder. With the targeted Kilvar warship being only fifty thousand kilometres away, the impact came almost at once. Three out of four huge slugs struck the enemy vessel square on its midsection flank and the impact energy created a visible distortion on the sensor feed.

Flint knew the outcome in advance, having seen the local fleet at Tibulon discharge their own Terrus-IV cannons at the attacking Kilvar. He didn’t blame Larson for wanting to see it for herself.

Enough time passed during that fleeting thought for Flint to bring the Nightfall’s nose cannon into line with the same warship which had just survived the Terrus-IV impacts. Before Larson could lock and discharge, the Kilvar vessel was struck by two calamitous blows from the Takrivon’s Terrus-V guns.

The Terrus-V cannons fired ternium-accelerated slugs at a vastly greater velocity than anything this side of a lightspeed missile and the increased kick was enough to crack the enemy defences. Two huge impact craters appeared – one on the warship’s nose section and another on its portside armour. Such was the force of the impacts that many millions of tons of Kilvar armour was ripped free and cast into the surrounding space.

“Not a fatal blow,” said Flint.

“Let’s try this,” said Larson. “Destroyer cannon 1: fired.”

Flint was expecting to be hurt by a wave of unleashed energy and he got exactly what he anticipated. The cannon discharged with the lowest of bass notes, creating an enormous power spike, and the force which crashed through him a split-second later made him clench his teeth against the pain. At the stations behind the command console, Fredericks grunted with pain and Bolan cursed furiously.

The result made the suffering worthwhile. On the sensor feed, the Kilvar warship exploded into a cloud of dense particles. Or rather, most of it exploded. When the feed cleared, Flint saw that two thousand metres of the enemy vessel’s stern had survived, along with a similar amount of the nose. It was certainly enough to put it out of action twice over and Flint’s eyes hunted for the next target.

“That single shot was enough to make the exium module compensate,” warned Fredericks. “Our superstress level increased and now it’s dropping again. No sign of a criticality on the modules.” He took an audible breath. “We passed the first test.”

“The first test of many,” said Flint.

“Enemy response coming any time now,” said Larson. “Railers set to full auto. Disruptor drones launched.”

The Kilvar ships recovered from their SRT blindness and red energy beams lanced out in rapid succession. At the same time, all three spilled missiles and began twisting in ever more violent manoeuvres. Back at Evia, the Kilvar had noticed the limited discharge arc of the Firestorm’s destroyer cannon and that information had clearly made it to the rest of their fleet.

Two of the particle beams hit the Nightfall and the warship’s energy shield lit up in cold blue. A third beam hit and the shield held. On Flint’s console, another power spike appeared and each new attack caused it to jump. He chose his target and banked towards it.

“Shock bursts deployed. Interceptors launched,” said Larson.

Flint had never before commanded a vessel fitted with so many weapons and countermeasures. Sixty-five out of the annihilator’s 128 railer turrets had line of sight on the incoming missiles and their high-velocity slugs tore into the void, while an enormous swarm of disruptor drones glinted in the darkness, emitting false ternium readings and guidance scrambling transmissions in hundreds of overlapping spheres.

Only fifteen thousand kilometres to starboard, the Takrivon unleashed its own countermeasures in similar quantities. The Kilvar missiles travelled fast, but the Nightfall’s targeting systems were controlled by a half-dozen obliterator cores and they were more than up to the task of tracking the incoming warheads. A torrent of nonstop railer fire smashed dozens of the enemy warheads into useless debris.

One of the Nightfall’s shock bursts went off in a massive flash of blue and the second followed before the first one had faded. The Takrivon deployed its own and their light on the feeds made Flint squint to protect his eyes.

The combination of shock bursts, railers, interceptors and drones was enough to thin the incoming wave of missiles. Three survived the onslaught and they detonated against the Nightfall’s energy shield. A new power spike appeared on Flint’s console and, in the brief moment he was looking, he thought the base level generated by the annihilator’s propulsion had risen. He had an idea what that might indicate, but he didn’t like it one little bit.

Flint had no time to think about it. His hands were full with the ongoing combat and the Kilvar warship he had in his sights was banking and twisting to remain out of the destroyer cannon’s arc. The target’s velocity climbed past six thousand kilometres per second, which would have been enough to pull away from any other warship in the alliance fleet. The Nightfall had no problems keeping pace.

Anticipating his enemy’s next move, Flint banked hard and the cannon firing overlay on the tactical touched against the red dot representing the Kilvar warship. At the same moment, two particle beams emerged from the opposing vessel’s side-mounted spines, hitting the Nightfall’s shield. A wave of fifteen missiles came after.

“Destroyer cannon 2: fired!” said Larson, the moment she obtained a weapons lock.

The second shot was as devastating as the first. Much of the Kilvar ship disappeared into grey dust and the cannon’s discharge wave made Flint feel as if he’d been hit by a gravity car. He tensed his muscles, clenched his jaw, and threw the Nightfall hard to port, hoping to avoid the incoming missiles. The warship wasn’t agile enough and, while the railers knocked out a few of the warheads, the remaining nine hit the Nightfall’s shield, turning it into a deeper blue than before.

Even as he selected the next Kilvar target, Flint couldn’t stop himself from looking at the instrumentation readouts. The base power level had definitely climbed.

“Lieutenant Fredericks,” he growled.

“I know what you’re going to ask, sir. I’m looking at it right now.”

The third Kilvar warship did not meekly capitulate to disintegration and it attempted a rapid deceleration in combination with a sharp turn, hoping to make Flint overshoot. He didn’t entirely fall for the ruse, but adjusting was going to cost precious seconds.

That short time was enough for the Takrivon to land four Terrus-V slugs on the slowing enemy warship’s armour plating and the effect was dramatic. Huge sections of the Kilvar vessel’s topside were punched out and the alloys turned from dark to glowing, brilliant white in a fraction of a second. The heat expansion ruptured both armour and ternium alike and debris fountained violently from the impact zones.

“That’s not going to be enough,” said Flint, hauling on the Nightfall’s controls. The cooldown timer on the first destroyer cannon was at zero, but the weapon wasn’t yet in line for another shot.

“Terrus cannons T3 and T4, fired,” said Larson. “Starboard missile clusters one through nine: fired. The Takrivon has launched its own warheads – twenty-seven full clusters.”

Seventy-two of the Nightfall’s hellburners streaked across the short distance to target. Flint expected the Kilvar to deploy countermeasures, but they did not. Moments before the Nightfall’s missiles struck home, the enemy warship was engulfed in a massive series of blasts from the Takrivon’s much larger salvo. More warheads struck and detonated, and the Kilvar vessel was torn apart, scattering enormous pieces of wreckage in its wake. The outcome was yet more proof that once the Kilvar warships suffered hull damage, that same area then became vulnerable to conventional weapons.

“Three down, one to go,” said Flint.

The final vessel was almost a hundred thousand kilometres away and travelling at close to seven thousand kilometres per second on a course that was taking it further from the Nightfall and the Takrivon. It continued firing missiles in staggered waves and its particle beams lanced out sporadically from different places on its hull.

“Let’s finish this,” said Flint, bringing the Nightfall’s cannons into line with the enemy ship.

“They aren’t going to stick around,” said Larson.

She was right. The Kilvar warship activated an SRT and vanished from the sensors. Flint had been expecting it too, but that didn’t make him any less angry at the sight of his opponent escaping.

“Fifteen left,” he said, reminding himself the opening exchanges had resulted in victory for the two alliance warships.

“That was a great start for us, sir,” said Maddox. “Those assholes aren’t invulnerable.”

Flint slowed the Nightfall to match velocity with the Takrivon. Time was short and a decision was needed.

“I have Captain Vazox on the comms for you, sir,” said Burner.

“Bring him in - open channel,” said Flint. He started talking the moment the link light on his console turned green. “Captain Vazox, the enemy know we are here and they know we have the ability to defeat them.”

“That is correct,” said Vazox. “I believe they will commit greater numbers to our known location, rather than allowing us to dictate the time and place of the next engagement.”

“I have the same opinion,” said Flint. “And since we’re not leaving the Reldus system while Basalt us under attack, that leaves us one option.”

“Basalt,” said Vazox. “The chance to pick off those they leave behind.”

“Let’s do it,” said Flint.

“Agreed,” said Vazox. “We should also open a communication channel to the planet. Now the enemy are aware of our presence, it is no longer imperative that we remain comms silent.”

“Yes,” said Flint. “The Nightfall will issue a synch code and we’ll go the moment the enemy warships arrive.”

He closed out of the channel and turned to find Lieutenant Becerra raising her thumb in his direction.

“Synch code created and issued, sir,” she said. “The Takrivon has accepted.”

Flint tapped his finger onto the tactical, selecting an SRT location on the far side of Basalt. Once the annihilators exited lightspeed, they’d have perhaps a minute or two before the Kilvar realised what was happening. Maybe less than a minute, depending on how battle-hardened the aliens were.

“Open a comms channel to the Amber base,” said Flint. “Fill them in on the situation and find out what’s happening down there.”

“Yes, sir,” said Burner.

The Kilvar didn’t arrive immediately, which made Flint think they were considering the best approach. It wasn’t a positive development, since an enemy was always far easier to control and predict if they acted before thinking. By all accounts, the Kilvar were successful in war and Flint had hoped they’d become overconfident. As yet, he saw no sign of it.

“The Amber base is under attack, sir,” said Burner. “It’s an air bombardment, with no sign of Kilvar troops within the base perimeter.”

“What about the population centres?” asked Flint. “And the interstellars?”

“So far, the Kilvar are leaving them alone.” Burner went quiet, listening. “They’ve positioned more transports in low orbit – big ones that might carry a million troops or more.”

“It’s like they’re waiting for something,” said Flint. “They’re poised to sweep across the planet, yet something’s holding them back.”

“A fear of something,” said Larson. “Or something they want.”

“Perhaps both,” said Flint. “There’s at least one ingar-ternium reactor on Basalt, plus the information required to make it produce exium.”

“We can’t let them have either,” said Larson. “If they start making replicas of that reactor, soon we’ll be facing exium-equipped Kilvar warships. Our only advantage will be gone.”

“And Lieutenant Vance reckoned the entity on the Ancidium was terrified of what the Kilvar would do if they knew how to produce exium,” said Flint. “My only loyalty is to the alliance, but we can’t be responsible for unleashing a Kilvar god armed with exium on the universe.”

“There’s only one way to fix that, sir,” said Burner. “Fleet Admiral Recker politely suggests we get our asses to Basalt and start blowing things up.”

Flint opened his mouth to frame a reply. The words didn’t come – a synchronised fleet of seven Kilvar warships dropped out of lightspeed a quarter of a million kilometres away. Without hesitation, Flint activated a short-range transit, taking the Nightfall and the Takrivon to the blind side of Basalt.

Chapter Seven

“Sensors coming up!” said Burner. He swore at them a couple of times in encouragement.

Flint pushed the Nightfall into a steady acceleration. He’d aimed for thirty thousand kilometres above the planet’s surface, which didn’t give a great deal of leeway for blind acceleration. The annihilator’s superstressed propulsion sounded much deeper and more resonant than when it was at idle, and Flint sensed its eagerness.

“Sensors online!” said Burner.

“Link us straight into whichever of the planet’s monitoring satellites are operational,” said Flint. “If the Kilvar got into the network ahead of us, they’ll be able to determine our position. That’s an advantage they don’t need.”

“And if they have access to the satellites, those seven warships which flew half a billion klicks out to our last position will be back in much less time than we’re hoping,” said Larson.

“Sir, I need to talk to you about the rising power base,” said Fredericks.

“This isn’t the best time, Lieutenant.”

“I know, sir. You need to hear it.”

“Are we about to explode?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then it can wait.”

The bulkhead screens displayed various feeds from the Nightfall’s external arrays. In moments, the sensor team had removed the currently useless data streams of space, leaving Flint to scan those showing the planet’s surface. This side of Basalt was a mixture of dark oceans, rainy tundra and dry, scrubby plains, with few major population centres.

“I’ve located wreckage and numerous impact craters stretching from the eastern seaboard to a thousand klicks inland,” said Becerra.

“The local fleet was taken out,” said Flint. “Some debris must have crashed down.”

“The coastline to the south doesn’t match our charts either, sir. One of our ships must have landed in the water. Or part of a ship.”

“We can’t fix these things, Lieutenant,” said Flint. Early signs were the planet had suffered more extensively than he’d let himself believe and he cursed out loud. “The best thing we can do is complete our mission.”

“I have a sensor lock on the Takrivon,” said Garrett. “Five hundred klicks north of our position.”

“We’re connected to the local monitors, sir,” said Burner. “The position of the known Kilvar warships at Basalt will populate on the tactical any moment now.”

“Eight enemy vessels in total,” said Flint, glancing at the summary readout. “Four over the Amber base and two in pairs at separate locations, and at a thousand-klick altitude.”

“Eight versus two,” said Maddox. “The odds keep getting better.”

“One of those four at Amber only arrived a short time ago, sir,” said Burner. “That must be the one we engaged at a half-billion klicks.”

“Three interstellars are the ground, sir,” said Larson. “Only one on the visible side.”

“Three fully loaded interstellars,” Flint felt obliged to add. “And each one is capable of holding nearly two billion people.”

One of the feeds was locked on the Axar base where the Star Ranger had landed, and Flint’s eyes lingered. The base was one of the few places capable of hosting the sixteen-kilometre interstellar – a vessel which was based on the Daklan superlifters - and the enormous hull occupied much of the landing field.

Axar was within a hundred kilometres of the continent’s three major cities, which had long ago been established to exploit the abundant natural resources found in the wide strip of land separating two great rivers, and it was from here the citizens had come to board the Star Ranger. The safety those people had been promised was a long way off, particularly since the Kilvar had two huge transports hovering at a low altitude just beyond the Axar perimeter.

“We can’t afford to bring those interstellars into the fight,” said Larson. “I know the Kilvar are supposed to be here for life energy, but the way they’re acting makes me think the ingar-ternium reactor is higher up their priority list.”

“I think that as well,” said Flint. “But doing nothing isn’t an option. There’s no bargain to be made here – whatever we offer, the Kilvar will feel they can just take it by force anyway.”

“And there’s no way we can give them the key to exium creation on a plate,” said Maddox. “Hell no to that.”

Flint nodded. “We’ve got to hurt these bastards as much as we can and see if they break.”

Even as he said the words, Flint had no idea if the Kilvar could be broken. He knew so little about them – maybe they didn’t have morale in the same way as a human or Daklan. If that was the case, they’d fight until the end if that’s what suited them.

Flint cursed under his breath. “There’s no sign the enemy have detected us. Let’s do what we came here to do.”

“The Takrivon is on the move,” said Becerra. “Captain Vazox doesn’t hang about. One of his comms team has informed me of their plan to sweep north. I’ve added their intended vector onto the tactical.”

“This course will see us intercept both pairs of the Kilvar warships on our way to the Amber base,” said Flint. It was a bold move. “Let’s get after the Takrivon.”

He requested power from the engines and banked the Nightfall towards Vazox’s warship. The Daklan was heading low, no doubt intending to use the planet’s curvature to stay out of sensor sight for as long as possible.

“Lieutenant Larson – take out any Kilvar transports the moment you see them.”

“Yes, sir. Targets locked: transports near the Axar base.”

Larson was denied the satisfaction - before she could launch the hellburners, the two massive enemy shuttles exploded in vivid white plasma blasts. Not only that, but other hellburners – dozens of them – detonated on the parched ground on the eastern side of the facility.

“The Takrivon got there first,” said Larson. “I’ll be quicker next time.”

“What were those other missiles targeted at?” asked Flint.

“Ground vehicles,” said Burner. “Tanks of some sort – their armour wasn’t enough to handle the Takrivon’s missiles.”

“Scan for others,” said Flint. The Nightfall was descending fast, but the Axar base was still a thousand kilometres directly below. “Every target is fair game.”

“The Takrivon left a few scraps for us,” said Larson. “Underside hellburner clusters one to three: locked and fired.”

Flint glanced at one of the targets, which was on the bulkhead screen. The vehicle was twelve sided, with three of those sides stretched out to make what he assumed was the front. Twin guns protruded, both pointing towards the Axar base.

One of the Nightfall’s hellburners struck the vehicle, incinerating it and leaving nothing but a crater.

“Overkill,” said Larson. “Other targets detected. Railers set to track and destroy.”

The railer slugs plunged through the cloud cover, pummelling the few remaining Kilvar tanks into misshapen wreckage that wouldn’t be troubling the Axar base anytime soon. After a few short bursts, the railers cut out, leaving the enemy forces either defeated or with heavy losses.

The Nightfall dropped through the clouds, now only ten kilometres behind the Takrivon and off to one side. Vazox piloted his warship lower and lower, until he was almost skimming the tops of the high hills. Given the mass and solidity of these annihilators, Flint suspected that in the event of a collision, the ground would come off worst.

“At this velocity, we should intercept the first pair of enemy warships in one minute, sir,” said Burner. “It’ll happen over the ocean.”

Flint spotted the problem. “If our targets are still at a thousand-klick altitude, they’ll eventually hit the ground after we destroy them.”

“The outcome will depend on their vector, sir,” said Fredericks. “If they’re travelling fast enough and in the right direction, they’ll escape Basalt’s gravitational pull.” He blew out a breath. “It’s not a risk I’d like to take.”

“It seems we’re carrying the only weapon which can safely dispose of the Kilvar,” said Flint. “Make sure Captain Vazox is aware of the danger.”

“He is, sir,” said Becerra. “In fact, one of his crew is presently on the comms telling us the same thing.”

“I guess I can’t teach him much,” said Flint.

“Captain Vazox will not be holding back,” Becerra continued. “If he sees a target travelling significantly greater than the planet’s escape velocity, he will discharge his weapons.”

“According to the monitoring satellites, neither of our first targets is near to escape velocity,” said Fredericks. “Destroying those warships using conventional attacks will guarantee the debris lands on Basalt. It’ll just be just a matter of where and when.”

“Let’s hope Captain Vazox knows what he’s doing,” said Flint.

Part of him wanted to warn the Daklan captain against attacking, and another part wanted to speak with Fleet Admiral Recker to ensure Vazox had approval to bring down the enemy ships so close to the planet. However, Flint’s instinct and his knowledge of his counterpart on the Takrivon told him to keep his mouth closed. Given the disparity in numbers between the alliance and the Kilvar, timidity would only increase the likelihood of failure.

If we don’t win this engagement, those people on Basalt are going to die anyway.

He brought his full attention to the controls and the sensor feeds. The rolling hills were now crusted in snow and, only a few hundred kilometres ahead, the barren icefields extended all the way around the planet’s pole. Once those icefields gave way to cold, deep ocean, the first pair of Kilvar warships would appear on the sensors.

“Twenty seconds to intercept, sir,” said Burner.

“Remember what I told you, Commander Larson,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. Don’t wait for the order – blow the crap out of the enemy as soon as they’re in the cannon arc.”

Ahead, the Takrivon decelerated sharply, allowing the Nightfall to take the lead. Flint piloted his battleship over the frozen wastes of Basalt. Here, the skies were crystal clear and a perfect shade of blue, while the sheets of ice held the stark beauty of eternal winter. Unable to admire the view, Flint watched the two red dots on the tactical. The Kilvar warships weren’t in a hurry and they flew at a steady velocity over the pole.

“Any moment,” said Larson.

“Here we go,” said Flint. As he spoke the words, he brought the Nightfall into a steep ascent. Overcoming the spaceship’s inertia didn’t strain the propulsion at all and the vessel gained altitude at a tremendous rate, the blue darkening rapidly as the annihilator approached the fringes of space. In moments, the Nightfall’s climb over the planet’s cusp revealed the two Kilvar spaceships, far in the distance.

“There!” shouted Larson. “Destroyer cannon 1: locked and fired.”

Flint braced himself for the percussive thump of the cannon’s discharge and the impact of it seemed less than before, as if his body was adapting to the trauma. The effects of the shot were as devastating as ever and most of the leftmost enemy vessel disintegrated, leaving its rear two thousand metres almost intact. The enormous piece arced towards the ground.

“Hit it with the second cannon,” said Flint.

“Destroyer cannon 2: locked and fired. “Twenty-five seconds until cannon 1 is ready for another discharge.”

A second wave of discharge energy struck Flint, but he didn’t care. The two-thousand-metre chunk of debris was no more, having been turned into powder like the rest of the enemy warship.

“Let’s get after that other one,” said Flint.

The Kilvar hadn’t reacted quickly, as if they’d been taken completely by surprise. In the few moments of hesitation, the enemy warship suffered two resounding Terrus-V impacts, which crushed its nose and dislodged a few hundred million tons of plating. Flint swore loudly when he saw the twisted slabs of alloy drop towards the surface.

“They’re coming down onto rock and ice, sir,” said Burner. “They’ll produce a seismic shock, but its strength will have dissipated by the time it reaches anywhere that matters.”

“I don’t like this,” said Flint, suddenly understanding how difficult it was going to be to defeat so many opponents using the available weapons. He kept his gaze on the Kilvar warship, which was banking away. It fired a particle beam into the Nightfall’s energy shield and two more into the Takrivon’s.

“Any debris that falls, I can target with hellburners,” said Larson. “I’m not convinced the method’s going to work against anything of significant mass.”

Flint wasn’t sure what to do for the best. The cooldown on the first destroyer cannon still had more than fifteen seconds left to run, and the second would become available less than five seconds later. Unfortunately, it was beginning to appear as if each opponent would require two shots to completely neutralise.

“We’ve got to outthink the enemy and make them act how we want,” said Flint. An idea came. “Let’s find out if they’ll pursue us.”

Relying on Captain Vazox to follow his lead, Flint altered course and increased the Nightfall’s velocity. Within moments, it was tearing through the planet’s upper atmosphere, heat building up on the front of its energy shield and a wispy smoke trail forming behind.

“What’s the plan, sir?” asked Larson.

“We’re going to draw in as many Kilvar ships as we can and then head for space,” said Flint. “If they give chase, we can attack without fear of wrecking the planet.”

Larson nodded her understanding. “And activate our phase shift when the pressure on our shield becomes too much.”

“Maybe we’ll show these Kilvar what it feels like to face an opponent that can match them on a technological level,” said Flint.

The Nightfall was travelling fast, and the icefields below were replaced by ocean. A thousand kilometres ahead, the northern tip of the main continental landmass appeared as a dark line across the horizon. Not far beyond, the next two Kilvar warships had diverged from their previous course and were heading towards the Nightfall, while the vessels over the Amber base remained in position.

“That last enemy warship is following us, sir,” said Burner. “They’re staying low, but the satellite ring has their position.” He cursed. “About half of the operational satellites just went offline.”

“The Kilvar had no reason to destroy them before. Now they do,” said Flint. “Damnit!”

Losing the satellites was going to make his plan harder to pull off, but not impossible. The moments of surprise were clearly over and, any moment now, the seven Kilvar warships half a billion kilometres out would come and join the party.

Right on cue, a Kilvar spaceship emerged from an SRT five hundred kilometres to starboard. A second vessel joined it a split second later. With astonishing speed, the Takrivon’s weapons officer hit the nearest enemy with a pair of Terrus-V slugs, creating a huge opening in its flank plating.

“Those are the ones we lured out earlier, sir,” said Becerra. “Any second now, the remaining five are going to land on top of us as well.”

“We have three others closing in from elsewhere, sir,” said Garrett.

Flint knew it was time. Hauling back on the controls he brought the Nightfall into a steep climb and the annihilator tore out of the planet’s atmosphere. The clinging heat dissipated quickly and the energy shield’s rich hue lightened.

“Another bunch of the monitors went offline, sir. Only a handful are left,” said Burner. “I should be able to connect to the sensor arrays on those interstellars and a few of the old ground stations might give us some visibility. It won’t be perfect, but it’ll be better than nothing.”

“Good idea, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Do it.”

His eyes went to the sensor feed again, just in time to witness Terrus-V slugs crunching into the second enemy warship which had arrived by SRT. The Takrivon’s hellburner missiles raced into the planet’s atmosphere, burning brightly and leaving thin trails behind them. An information overlay on the tactical informed Flint that eighteen warheads had been aimed at each of the two damaged Kilvar warships.

“Sir, should I fire our hellburners?” asked Larson.

“Hold!” Flint said. “Until we’re away from Basalt.”

He was finding it tough to find the right balance between aggression and keeping the planet’s population safe. Captain Vazox appeared to be having no such difficulties and the Daklan had judged his most recent attacks perfectly. The hellburners struck their targets, leaving the Kilvar warships with enormous damage, but not so much that they broke up and came crashing down.

“That’s two vulnerable to the rest of our fleet out at Soval,” said Larson.

“Those other five enemy vessels just came out of SRTs,” said Burner. “They’re scattered on our side of Basalt.”

The Kilvar had fourteen warships remaining at Basalt. Ten of them were now on the visible side of the planet and Flint suspected the other four would stay put at Amber.

“When those ten vessels shake off their lightspeed blindness, we’re going to have a plateful,” he said.

He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that drawing the enemy away would help him accomplish the primary mission goal, but he couldn’t imagine how the Nightfall and Takrivon were going to emerge from the coming minutes unscathed.

If those interstellars are to escape, they need an opening. And this is it.

It was too late to back down and Flint held the controls as far along their guide slots as they would go. Basalt dwindled on the rear feeds and the first of the Kilvar warships accelerated in pursuit.

“That first enemy ship is 80,000 klicks behind, sir,” said Burner. “We’re leaving them in the dust.”

A particle beam struck the Nightfall’s energy shield and a wave of missiles was on its way. On his control panel, Flint’s attention was once again drawn to the base engine power generation readout. It had climbed again and he knew that sooner rather than later, he’d need to speak to Lieutenant Fredericks and find out what the hell it meant.

Chapter Eight

The Nightfall’s velocity climbed rapidly and kept on going. To Flint’s astonishment, the electronic needle hit eight thousand kilometres per second without any reduction in its rate of increase. The numbers on the gauge recalculated and the needle hit nine thousand.

Unable to match this punishing acceleration, the Kilvar spaceships began to fall back, but the annihilator was a long way from outranging their missiles and particle beams. Several energy weapon strikes landed on the Nightfall’s shield, most of them attenuated by the chained shock pulses which Larson deployed as fast as they would load into their launch tubes.

Many salvoes of missiles streaked towards Flint’s warship and neither the railers nor the other countermeasures were enough to destroy them all. Not only that, the Kilvar warheads travelled at almost forty thousand kilometres per second, so even the Nightfall’s superstressed velocity wasn’t enough to escape them.

“The engine base level is climbing again, sir,” said Fredericks. “We can’t keep going like this.”

Flint knew that just as well, even if he didn’t understand the significance of the rising base output. Energy spike after energy spike appeared on his console, each one forcing the annihilator’s exium module to demand more from the ternium propulsion in order to maintain not only the shield, but the hard acceleration as well.

“Have you detected any criticalities?” asked Flint.

“No, sir. There have been numerous instabilities, which the control software has dealt with. Eventually, one of those instabilities will become a criticality. We’re flying up shit creek at nine thousand klicks per second, and the further we go, the harder it’ll be to come back.”

“Ten thousand klicks per second,” Flint corrected him. “And still rising.”

“The Takrivon has fired its rear Terrus guns,” said Garrett. “Results on the screen.”

Flint glanced at the feeds and saw that one of the Kilvar vessels had been struck directly on its nose section, while a second Terrus-V slug had torn a huge furrow along its topside plating, leaving a scar that glowed sullen red.

“The Takrivon is rotating,” said Garrett. “Captain Vazox is hoping to open up the full broadside.”

“We’re not going to score any kills facing this way, sir,” said Larson.

“Then let’s point our guns in the right direction, Commander.”

Had he been able to let the Nightfall coast through the vacuum, rotating the vessel would have been straightforward. Because Flint wanted to maintain the warship’s acceleration, the manoeuvre became much harder, requiring him to bias the thrust towards the correct engine modules in order to keep the annihilator on course. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the Takrivon rotating with serene ease, ejecting hellburners and countermeasures at the same time. Flint’s competitive spirit made him determined to pull off something of the same elegance and he gave his utmost attention to the controls.

His efforts were successful, resulting in only a small deviation of course, and one that he was able to correct without difficulty. When he was done, the Nightfall’s nose was aimed at the chasing Kilvar fleet and it would require only a slight alteration to bring any one of them into the destroyer cannons’ firing arc.

“Now the enemy are so far from Basalt, we don’t need to worry about the wreckage,” said Larson. “That means we only need a single shot for each kill.”

Flint brought one of the Kilvar warships into the destroyer cannon firing arc. “Here’s your chance, Commander.”

“Destroyer cannon 1: locked and fired,” said Larson.

The thudding energy burst of the discharge was no less intense than the others, but Flint barely felt it. With satisfaction, he watched the target warship explode into dust and then his attention moved on. He watched another wave of the Takrivon’s hellburners crash into one of the Terrus-damaged enemy vessels and saw more Terrus-V slugs thunder with crunching force into the armour of a separate enemy craft.

“Forward hellburner clusters one to six: launched,” said Larson. “Underside hellburner clusters one to three: launched. Shock pulse deployed.”

“Lightspeed missile strike confirmed on the second damaged enemy vessel, sir,” said Burner.

It was hard to mistake a lightspeed missile detonation for anything else, owing to the monumental size of the payload. This one launched by the Takrivon had struck in a place already weakened, and it ripped out what Flint guessed was about five billion tons of alloy and ternium.

“Our turn,” he said, making a slight alteration to the controls.

“Destroyer cannon 2: locked and fired,” said Larson at once.

Most of the target enemy warship was reduced to dust, though a few billion tons of its stern remained intact. The fractured ternium modules were still generating thrust and the wreckage veered off its original course.

“Twenty seconds on destroyer cannon 1,” said Larson. “Terrus-V strike confirmed on a new enemy vessel. Forward hellburner clusters seven to nine: launched. Underside clusters four to six: launched.”

“Nineteen Kilvar missile strikes confirmed on our energy shield,” said Maddox. “We’re soaking plenty of particle beams as well.”

Protected by their shields, the Nightfall and Takrivon had destroyed two of the Kilvar pursuers and damaged four others. However, the enemy fleet was still numerous and showed no sign of breaking off. Flint was sure the Kilvar had encountered the Laws of Ancidium on many occasions and were therefore aware that an energy shield’s reserves were finite. They wouldn’t let up until the two annihilators were finished.

“Terrus cannons T1 and T2: fired,” said Larson. “Ten seconds on destroyer cannon 1. Shock pulse deployed. Forward hellburner clusters one to six: reload complete. Targeting.”

“What reports do we have from the interstellars?” asked Flint, hoping this was enough of an opportunity for their crews to escape.

“Two lifted off not long after the Kilvar followed us out of orbit, sir, and are currently at a ten-klick altitude,” said Burner. “They have clearance for a proximity lightspeed launch and are waiting for their ternium drive warmups to complete. The interstellar closest to the Amber base is staying put.”

Flint zoomed the tactical and saw that the airborne interstellars were travelling at a low speed towards Basalt’s north pole. A ternium drive wouldn’t fire from zero velocity and he hoped the Kilvar wouldn’t notice that the huge transports were no longer on the ground.

“We might pull this off,” said Flint. “If our energy shields hold for a little while longer.”

The Daklan annihilators had always punched above their weight and with the addition of an exium module and an energy shield, these two battleships were giving the Kilvar a real headache. In fact, Flint was sure that, despite their size, the ten-klick enemy vessels each carried fewer conventional armaments than the Nightfall and the Takrivon.

Just thinking about this technological accomplishment gave Flint a jolt of pride-fuelled adrenaline. Listening to the updates from his weapons officers and witnessing the punishment being meted out to the enemy gave him a sense of electrifying excitement unlike anything he’d felt before. However, he knew it couldn’t last. Each successful enemy attack produced a spike on the instrumentation and the engine base output was climbing higher and higher.

“Captain Vazox reports some concerns with his engines, sir,” said Lieutenant Becerra. “He doesn’t go into detail.”

“The Takrivon is taking as much of the enemy fire as we are,” said Fredericks. “I’m sure they’ve got the same issue we have.”

“Destroyer cannon 1: recharge complete,” said Larson. “I’m waiting for you to bring one of those Kilvar warships into the firing arc, sir.”

“Here you go!” said Flint.

“Destroyer cannon 1: fired!” yelled Larson.

“Seven left!” said Maddox, her voice climbing an octave.

“Make it six!” snarled Flint.

“Six it is. Destroyer cannon 2: fired!”

“Terrus-V strikes detected on another enemy warship!” said Maddox.

“We need to get out of here, sir!” said Fredericks. “Our hardware needs a chance to cool down.”

“Cool down?” asked Flint. Neither ternium nor exium ran hot.

“You know what I mean, sir. I need to see if this base level will settle. If it doesn’t, I’m not sure what’s going to happen to the Nightfall.”

Flint got the message. “Is our synch code with the Takrivon still active?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“How long before those interstellars get out of here?”

“Twenty seconds, sir,” said Burner.

“Crap, I’ve had a comm from the Amber base, sir!” shouted Becerra. “The Kilvar have cracked open the vault holding the ingar-ternium reactor! We’re running out of time!”

“Damnit!” said Flint. “We’ve got our hands full out here.”

The Nightfall had passed twelve thousand kilometres per second and the slowing of the electronic velocity needle indicated the battleship was approaching its maximum velocity. Keeping pace, the Takrivon was only a few hundred kilometres to starboard, its energy shield burning bright with plasma.

Far behind - the nearest enemy vessel was a quarter of a million kilometres distant - the Kilvar warships were languishing at a velocity not much greater than seven thousand kilometres per second, though it would be a long time before the Nightfall and Takrivon outranged their weapons. Doubtless the enemy would soon decide to activate their mode 3 transits to catch up.

“There are billions of lives on the brink of escape, and we’re going to give them that chance,” said Flint. He chose a destination as close to Amber as he dared and selected it as an SRT destination. “Twenty seconds and we’re returning to Basalt. Once we arrive, we’re going to hit those four warships over Amber and prevent them taking the reactor. Lieutenant Becerra, make sure Captain Vazox is aware.”

“I’ll inform Captain Vazox, sir,” said Becerra. “And I’ll send the same transmission to the Amber base.”

“Five of our pursuers have already suffered Terrus-V strikes, sir,” said Larson. “That leaves a total of six undamaged in the Kilvar fleet.”

“Once those have taken some impact damage, our fleet at Soval will be able to finish them off,” said Flint. “Shit, this is going down to the wire.”

“I don’t think our energy shield will hold much longer,” said Fredericks. “If we arrive blind and the Kilvar attack us fast enough, I’m sure it’ll fail.”

“If the heat at Basalt becomes more than we can handle, we’ll do a combat reset,” said Flint.

“A phase shift?” asked Fredericks.

“Exactly that, Lieutenant. Ten seconds and we go.”

Fredericks talked fast. “I thought you might be thinking along those lines, sir. The phase shift has a high power draw like every other major system on this warship.”

“It won’t matter so much when our propulsion isn’t supplying the energy shield at the same time,” said Flint as if he knew the answer for certain.

“I’m not so sure about that, sir. The documentation on the phase shift is contradictory, like it’s been compiled by six different people.”

“Look there, Lieutenant,” said Flint, pointing at the bulkhead screen. The missile detonations were continuous now, as were the particle beams. Although the annihilator’s countermeasures fired ceaselessly, it wasn’t nearly enough, and the energy shield had darkened so much it was almost indistinguishable from space. It didn’t require a genius to guess that it was on the verge of failure.

“I see it, sir.”

“We’re either going to lose the Nightfall to enemy fire, or we’re going to lose it because the hardware fails. I’ve got officers capable of dealing with the latter, so that’s the chance we’re taking. Zero seconds. Time to go.”

Flint put the Nightfall into mode 3. The lurching in his stomach was compounded by pain and numbness which only served to anger him.

“Where are those sensors!”

“Not yet online, sir.”

“Did our ternium suppressors activate?”

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “The Kilvar won’t know our location. Not immediately, anyway.”

Sensor blind as he was, Flint pictured the Nightfall’s position relative to the planet. His SRT destination had been a quarter-turn around Basalt from Amber, and at a low enough altitude that the Kilvar warships wouldn’t have direct sensor sight. The moment the sensors came online, he intended unleashing hell on the enemy. The first destroyer cannon was almost recharged and the second would be done soon after – both would be available when the engagement resumed.

“Sensors up!” said Burner.

The bulkhead screen illuminated and the underside feeds were aimed directly at the planet below. Flint recognized the land mass and the sight of five huge impact craters clustered around a river delta only served to increase his fury. From the feeds, he knew where the Amber base was located and he rotated the Nightfall so that its nose cannons were pointing exactly in the right direction.

“There’s the Takrivon,” said Garrett. “Two hundred klicks to starboard and at a ten-klick lower altitude.”

Flint’s hands hadn’t left the controls. “Let’s pay a visit to those four warships at Amber,” he said.

“Without exposing our shield to any more damage, sir,” said Fredericks.

“No guarantees, Lieutenant.”

“At least be ready to activate an SRT in case our ternium modules go critical, sir – an SRT that’ll take us far from Basalt.”

“We’re really that close to failure?” asked Flint.

“I have nothing to prove it other than a good, old-fashioned hunch, sir. The Nightfall’s propulsion needs a breather. Probably the exium module does too.”

Lieutenant Fredericks had many positive attributes and his ability to boil down complex technical issues into simple language was one of them.

“I’ll ready the SRT,” said Flint, tapping his finger onto the tactical at a place far out on the fringes of the Reldus system.

“I think Captain Vazox has the same concerns we do, sir,” said Becerra. “But he’s cancelled the synch code. If one of us needs to leave, that doesn’t mean we both do.”

“Let’s get this finished,” said Flint.

Chapter Nine

Flint increased the Nightfall’s velocity and aimed it towards the Amber base. It was his intention to appear fast over the enemy’s horizon and turn one of them to powder before they could trouble the annihilator’s energy shield. If Captain Vazox landed Terrus-V shots on the others, the fleet at Soval had the numbers to finish off the enemy.

At the back of Flint’s mind was a grave concern about how difficult the clean-up would become. If the Kilvar remained close to Basalt, the planet was at risk of catastrophic damage from falling debris.

This was never going to be easy.

The Nightfall sped low into the atmosphere and, a few seconds later, it was beneath the dense clouds. This side of Basalt was in darkness and a ferocious storm was in full force. Rain fell in torrents and lightning jagged into the annihilator’s energy shield. Storms could not harm the warship and it flew on, crossing mountains and plains.

“Ten seconds and we’ll have sensor sight on the Amber base, sir,” said Burner.

“What’s the status on the reactor?”

“Unknown, sir. The Kilvar have saturated the area of the base surrounding the reactor vault with missiles and particle beams. We’ve lost visibility on the reactor.”

“Shit,” said Flint. “They’re about to steal it.”

“If I see anything resembling an enemy lifter shuttle, I’ll target it with missiles, sir,” said Larson.

“Is it even safe to hit the reactor like that?” asked Garrett.

“I don’t know,” said Flint. He remembered Lieutenant Vance telling him about how RL Moseley had not wanted the reactor on Tibulon being struck by a shoulder-launched rocket. “Damnit, I don’t know,” he repeated.

“I’ll hold the missiles, sir,” said Larson.

“And I’ll find someone on the ground who can give us answers, sir,” said Garrett.

“We should have sensor sight on the enemy warships right about now,” said Burner.

The first of the Kilvar vessels appeared on the horizon. It was at such a low altitude – two thousand metres - that Flint was concerned about the risks of targeting it with the destroyer cannons.

“Can I fire?” asked Larson.

“Hold!” Flint snapped. “Lieutenant Garrett, we need an answer now!”

“Sir, the reactor on the Amber base is fully charged with ingar and is in a highly volatile state. If we damage it using explosives, there’s a chance it will detonate with enough force to wipe out the facility and anything within several hundred klicks.”

“What about the destroyer cannon? Can we use that against the reactor?” asked Flint.

“Nobody within reach of the ground comms station can provide an answer, sir.”

“Someone there knew what would happen with explosives!” shouted Flint angrily.

The ground personnel received new information and Garrett relayed it. “We are permitted to fire the destroyer cannons, sir! The risks are judged low enough for us to proceed.”

Larson didn’t hesitate. “Destroyer cannon 1: fired.”

An explosion of particles appeared where the enemy vessel had been, concealing much of the base in a grey shroud. Somewhere in that dust, a few billion tons of the warship remained and it would soon impact with the planet.

Low visibility didn’t stop Larson. “Destroyer cannon 2: fired,” she said.

The dust thickened in response to the second discharge and Flint hoped that nothing was left of the Kilvar vessel. On his tactical, three targets were stationary near the base, their positions transmitted by the grounded interstellar. Those warships weren’t yet in sensor sight but they would be at any moment. A line of thick orange appeared on the forward feed, where land and sky met.

“The northern end of the base is on fire,” said Garrett. “Those are the flames.”

“Twenty-five seconds on the first destroyer cannon,” said Larson.

Flint swore and peered into the dust. The Kilvar should be in sight, but he couldn’t see them. It was tempting to increase altitude to obtain a better view, but he didn’t want to expose the Nightfall to enemy fire – not while he lacked a visual on the targets.

“Lens filters applied,” said Burner. “That should clear things up.”

Suddenly, it was as though the airborne particles had enormously reduced in density and Flint spotted the looming shapes of three enemy vessels. A patch of intense heat suddenly appeared on the hull of one, indicating it had been hit by the Takrivon’s Terrus guns. With glacial ease, the damaged enemy warship climbed vertically, while the other two rose diagonally in the opposite direction to the approaching Nightfall and Takrivon.

“What’re they going to do?” Flint muttered to himself. He selected one of the intact Kilvar warships and accelerated towards it. “And how long before the rest of their fleet arrives?”

“Nine enemy warships are left, sir,” said Maddox. “Six of those are damaged.”

“Leaving three which aren’t.”

The first Kilvar attack on Basalt – involving a single warship – was lesson enough in how an engagement would turn out if even one of the enemy fleet was left invulnerable, and Flint didn’t intend letting the same thing happen again.

“Make that two which aren’t,” said Larson. “The Takrivon landed Terrus shots on that second enemy ship.”

“I’m scanning for enemy shuttles capable of holding an ingar-ternium reactor,” said Becerra.

“Those reactors aren’t huge,” said Flint. “Almost any shuttle with gravity chains could get one into the air.”

“Correction, sir,” said Becerra. “The reactor on Tibulon wasn’t huge. I’ve checked the specification sheets for the model here on Amber and it’s about thirty times the mass.”

At that moment, an engagement which had been threatening to boil over since it began, erupted into chaos.

“I’m reading multiple inbound ternium waves high over our heads, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’d estimate that approximately twenty-five members of Admiral Wallace’s fleet at Soval are about to put in an appearance.”

As Fredericks was speaking, three Kilvar warships exited short-range lightspeed transits about a hundred kilometres east and at a similar altitude. Two of the warships were ablaze from their earlier encounter with the Nightfall and Takrivon, and pieces of debris dropped from their hulls.

“Twenty-seven members of our fleet are now at a five-hundred klick altitude,” said Garrett. “This is going to turn real messy.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Flint, his eyes fixed on the warship he was pursuing. The Kilvar vessel had achieved a fifteen-kilometre altitude and banked tightly, as if it didn’t want to leave. It was obvious why. “Where’s that damned reactor?”

“The Kilvar deployed most of their transports outside the base perimeter, sir,” said Becerra. “I’ve detected three currently in the facility airspace.”

“Ten seconds on destroyer cannon 1,” said Larson. “Missile launch detected from two of the Kilvar warships. Particle beam strike against our energy shield.”

On this occasion, the enemy missiles weren’t directed towards the Nightfall or the Takrivon. Instead, a huge wave of them exploded in the southern area of the Amber base, the detonations ripping apart dozens of buildings. Flint had no idea why the Kilvar were employing this tactic, unless it was punitive.

“Terrus-V strikes confirmed on a new enemy vessel, sir,” said Maddox. “That leaves only one invulnerable to our fleet.”

“Three other Kilvar ships just exited mode 3,” said Burner. “That’s them all – nine in total here at Amber.”

“I’m reading another ternium wave, sir,” said Fredericks. “From the size of it, the last twenty-three of our warships from Soval are on their way.”

Sure enough, those warships exited lightspeed in a cluster, only a few hundred kilometres from the others. The first twenty-seven had recovered from their transits and had begun firing missiles into the Kilvar warships.

So far, it wasn’t clear if the Soval fleet was aware of the ingar-ternium reactor and the requirement to leave it untouched. Particle beams from the Kilvar stabbed into the alliance vessels and missiles went with them. A second later, both sides activated their countermeasures and Flint’s tactical became so crowded he was forced to turn off several of the information overlays.

“Cooldown finished on destroyer cannon 1,” said Larson. “Destroyer cannon 2 also ready for discharge.”

“Lieutenant Becerra, tell me about those three Kilvar transports you detected in the facility airspace,” said Flint.

Becerra had a sensor lock on each. The vessels were each about three hundred metres in length and unremarkable. They were staying low to the ground in a clear effort to evade detection.

“None of them are emitting ternium particles, sir,” she said. “Ingar is trickier to detect and I’m sure the reactor is shielded.”

“Is that a problem you can overcome?”

“I’m not sure, sir, so I’m attempting to predict their flight destinations. The shuttles are flying erratically and it’s not clear where they’re heading.”

“They likely want to dock with the first Kilvar vessel they can reach,” said Flint. “Commander Larson, can you disintegrate all three transports?”

“No, sir, they aren’t close enough together. I could destroy two, but that would involve collateral damage to the base.”

Another wave of missiles detonated within the base perimeter and this time the Kilvar followed up with a single, much larger explosive of a type which Flint had not seen before. The bomb went off in the south-east, expanding with tremendous speed into a hemisphere of plasma white that engulfed ten or twelve kilometres of the surface facility. A second followed, this time directly west of the first.

“They’re going to wipe out the base!” said Maddox.

Flint suddenly understood the tactics. All nine of the Kilvar ships had stayed close to Amber, banking and turning, yet never going too far. “They’re hoping keep us distracted.”

As if his words were the trigger, every one of the Kilvar vessels descended at once. He saw what they intended – they would halt at a low altitude and use their hulls to both hide and protect the transports. Those shuttles would dock and the Kilvar would leave Basalt by SRT, and since Flint wouldn’t know which one carried the reactor, he couldn’t prevent it happening unless he got lucky.

“Commander Larson!” he shouted. “Destroy two of those shuttles! Quickly!”

“Yes, sir. Destroyer cannon 1: targeted and fired. Destroyer cannon 2: targeted and fired.”

Larson was fast enough to beat the descending Kilvar and two of the shuttles were disintegrated. Despite her best efforts, each discharge also turned numerous surface structures into dust.

“There should be nobody in those buildings, Commander,” said Flint.

“I don’t believe it, sir,” said Larson, her voice taut.

Flint didn’t say anything more about it. Nine Kilvar ships had descended on the base, three of them close to the last shuttle.

“Shit!” said Burner. “Four more shuttles coming up, sir. They must have been landed and out of sight. Now they’re coming in to dock.”

Flint seethed at being sucker-punched. It looked as if the Kilvar were about to take the prize, and he couldn’t think of a way to stop it.

“Twenty seconds on destroyer cannon 1, sir,” said Larson.

“What can we do?” asked Maddox.

“I don’t know,” snarled Flint.

The orders not to use explosives on the reactor had reached the Soval fleet as well, and they fired no more missiles at the Kilvar. The Kilvar didn’t return the favour and they unloaded on the alliance warships, many of which activated SRTs to avoid destruction.

A few missiles and particle beams lit up the Nightfall’s energy shield, but Flint made no effort to mode 3 away from Basalt. Had the interstellar not been so close, he was convinced Fleet Admiral Recker would have instructed every alliance ship to open fire, whatever the consequences for the base.

“Maybe if the interstellar lifted off and got away from here,” said Becerra.

“It’s too late for that, Lieutenant.”

The four shuttles reached their destinations, each docking with a separate Kilvar vessel and vanishing from sensor sight.

“Ten seconds on destroyer cannon 1, sir,” said Larson.

“You won’t get another shot, Commander.”

Flint was right. With their shuttles docked, the Kilvar warships entered lightspeed at precisely the same moment. The expulsion of their ternium drives flattened much of what remained upright on the surface below, adding to what would already be unthinkable casualties.

“They’re gone,” said Flint.

A full-duration SRT would have taken them billions of kilometres away and if the Kilvar chained two or three together, they’d end up far beyond the fringes of the Reldus system.

“I’m scanning for lightspeed tunnels, sir,” said Fredericks.

“You won’t find anything, Lieutenant.”

“I know, but I have to try.”

Burner knew the realities as well. “I’m picking some random locations and checking for signs of the enemy, sir,” he said. “If the local monitoring stations were online, we’d have a chance of locating their lightspeed exit point if they held to a single SRT. Otherwise…”

It was hard for Flint to keep the despair from his voice. “Keep looking anyway.”

“One of those destroyer cannon shots might have disintegrated the reactor,” said Lieutenant Copeland hopefully.

“Do you really believe that?” asked Fredericks.

“Not for a moment, sir.”

Coming from the brink of success to confirmed failure within the space of two or three minutes was a body blow to Flint and, for a few long moments, he could only stare at the devastation wrought upon the Amber base.

“The last interstellar is taking off, sir,” said Becerra. “Those people onboard are going to escape.”

“That’s good,” said Flint. “Did Fleet Admiral Recker survive?”

“I’ll find out for you, sir.”

“Please.”

“Sir, are we intending to hold in superstress?” asked Fredericks.

“We’ll have to,” said Flint. “I don’t imagine the Kilvar are coming back soon, but I want to be prepared in case I’m wrong. Are we in imminent danger of a terminal incident?”

“The truth is, I don’t really know, sir. Everything looks stable, but this behaviour – the high base output - is neither expected, wanted, nor intended.” Fredericks hesitated, with an expression of uncertainty on his face.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“A feeling, sir. If we drop out of superstress with the base output so high, the engine modules might not cope. They might fracture – or worse, they might release their potential energy all in one go. The Nightfall is carrying nearly sixty billion tons of ternium – I’m sure you can guess what the outcome would be.”

“I can guess,” said Flint.

“So this high base power isn’t the same as overstressing or superstressing the engines?” asked Garrett.

“It’s different,” said Fredericks. “When you overstress or superstress, the control software instructs the ternium to generate more energy. It’s like telling the engines to run harder and faster. When we no longer need that extra energy, the control software returns the propulsion into its usual state.”

“I take it this high base level won’t return to normal?” asked Garrett.

“It hasn’t happened so far,” said Fredericks. “And because we’re running a high base during superstress, that equates to something approximating a two thousand percent overstress level. If we leave superstress with this unresolved…”

“Something bad will happen,” Garrett finished for him.

“Potentially something very bad,” said Fredericks.

“This isn’t what we need,” said Flint. “Not right now.”

“Fleet Admiral Recker is alive and well,” said Becerra, bringing some good news. She exhaled loudly. “The subsurface levels were not affected by the topside bombardment. It sounds like the base command and control structure is intact, sir.”

“What next?” asked Maddox.

It was the question Flint had known was coming. “I don’t have an answer, Lieutenant. We did our best and it wasn’t enough. I guess it’s in the hands of Fleet Admiral Recker what we do now.”

Flint tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

Chapter Ten

Considering what had befallen the Amber base, it didn’t take long for the flow of information to begin. In less than five minutes, Flint was invited into a comms channel with Captain Vazox and Fleet Admiral Recker. Bemoaning events wasn’t constructive, and Flint was determined to keep his input positive. Recker was surprisingly well-informed about the engagement and didn’t need much filling in.

“Have we confirmed that the reactor is gone and not destroyed?” asked Flint, after a brief exchange of information between the three officers.

“It’s gone,” said Recker, though he didn’t reveal how he was so sure. He sounded stone cold calm, like this façade was the only way he could contain his fury. “The Kilvar also attempted to crack the encryption on the ground data stores and, as yet, I don’t know if they were successful. I have a team running an audit on the connected arrays.”

“The Soval fleet is searching for the enemy,” said Vazox. “I am monitoring their comms and so far the hunt is in vain. It will remain so.”

“I agree,” said Recker. “The Kilvar evidently believed the ingar-ternium reactor was more important to their species than the lives on this planet.”

“We forced them into a choice,” said Vazox. “Without the Takrivon and Nightfall, the enemy would have had both. These annihilators inflicted severe damage to an entire opposing fleet. The construction teams and scientists deserve much credit.”

“As do the commanders and crews of those warships,” said Recker.

“Thank you, Fleet Admiral,” said Vazox. “I am itching to continue the fight.”

“My senior engine officer has brought my attention to a hardware issue,” said Flint. “But I would commit this warship to action again immediately.”

“The Takrivon is also suffering technical problems,” said Vazox. “Our engine base output is significantly higher than expected.”

Recker understood without requiring further explanation. “Your energy shields soaked a lot of incoming fire during the engagement. The exium modules altered the state of the ternium so they could cope with the increased demand.”

“My engine officers believe the state of the ternium is permanently changed,” said Vazox. “Each new use of the Takrivon’s energy shield, ternium wave suppressor and Terrus-V cannons will raise the base level. We have not yet activated a phase shift.”

“The power draw from that is incredibly high,” said Recker. “Holding an object as massive as a battleship in a changed state requires an enormous amount of energy. What do your engine officers believe will be the eventual result? I suspect I know the answer.”

“Lieutenant Fredericks hasn’t yet speculated on that exact question, sir. However, he believes we can’t exit superstress without putting ourselves, or anything nearby, in grave danger,” said Flint.

“And the longer you remain in superstress, the greater the chance a criticality will occur in the propulsion,” said Recker. “And, as you’ve already discovered, Captain Flint, exium has a finite capacity. Eventually, the modules on the Nightfall and the Takrivon will run dry. When that happens, you will no longer be able to maintain superstress.”

“The outcome will not be welcome,” rumbled Vazox. “Is there a way we can monitor the exium to find out how close it is to depletion?”

“The quick answer to that is no, Captain Vazox. We don’t yet know enough about exium to determine if every module we create is entirely equal in terms of its potential. In addition, the only previous field-tested exium warship was the Firestorm, so we have limited examples from which to draw conclusions.”

“Can we speak to the teams which designed the Nightfall and Takrivon?” asked Flint. “They might have some useful input.”

“They might,” Recker agreed. “However, several key members of those teams were stationed here on Basalt. Finding them may not be quick or easy.”

Flint caught a hint of something unspoken. “Do we not have time, sir?”

“I’ll give you an answer to that shortly, Captain Flint,” said Recker. “Captain Vazox, how full are your Terrus-V magazines?”

“Sixty percent,” said Vazox. “You have projectiles on the Amber base.”

“The reports I’ve had indicate the landing field is more or less intact,” said Recker. “Set your warship down immediately and have your magazines filled.”

“Yes, Fleet Admiral,” said Vazox. At once, the Takrivon accelerated east towards the landing strip. Like Recker had said, that area had suffered little in the recent attack and there was plenty of room for a six-thousand-metre annihilator to set down.

“What about you, Captain Flint?” asked Recker.

“We’re carrying plenty of Terrus-IV projectiles and our hellburner magazines still hold enough for an extended campaign. What are you planning, sir?”

“I suppose there’s no need to keep you hanging on,” said Recker. “The ingar-ternium reactor is fitted with a positional system and a miniaturised real time FTL comm transmitter. When the Kilvar arrive at their destination, we’ll know where it is.”

“If the reactor has an FTL transmitter…” Flint started.

“Yes, it transmitted after the Kilvar exited their first SRT away from Basalt. It also transmitted after their second SRT.”

“We could have stopped them, sir.”

“Perhaps,” said Recker. “The Kilvar attack reduced the efficiency of the Amber base, Captain Flint, and the team monitoring for the reactor’s FTL comm did not make me aware until moments before I opened this channel to the Nightfall and Takrivon. By that time, the enemy would have completed their lightspeed transitions and been far from Reldus.”

“This will work to our advantage,” said Vazox.

“I’m glad you see the potential,” said Recker. “On the one hand, we have lost the ingar-ternium reactor, while on the other, we have an opportunity to follow the Kilvar to their destination. For the first time since those bastards showed up, we’ll be the ones who dictate an engagement.”

“Do you think they have established a permanent base in or near alliance territory, sir?” asked Flint.

“That’s something you’re going to find out, Captain Flint. As soon as that real time FTL comm hits one of our receivers, you’ll be on your way to the source.”

The disappointment of failure ebbed and feelings of anticipation and excitement gripped Flint once more. He didn’t ask, but he wondered if Recker could have done more to prevent the ingar-ternium reactor from being stolen. Had he informed Flint and Vazox about the FTL comm only a short time earlier, the Nightfall, the Takrivon and the Soval fleet could have blown the crap out of the Kilvar before their ternium drives launched them into extended lightspeed.

While the internal base comms had doubtless been affected by the attack, Flint had a feeling Recker could have learned the reactor’s position and informed his warships in good time - if he’d wanted to. Flint suddenly didn’t know what to believe. Recker wasn’t a gambler, of that he was sure, but if the Fleet Admiral had allowed the reactor to be stolen, it was an audacious move to say the least.

Flint felt Larson’s gaze and he turned in her direction. She had a peculiar smile on her face and he realised she could read exactly what was going through his head. Larson knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what Recker had done.

“Like you said, sir, this is an opportunity,” said Flint.

Larson’s smile widened and he returned one of his own.

Go with the current, don’t fight it.

“I anticipate that once the Kilvar reach their destination and unload the reactor, they’ll quickly discover the FTL comm transmitter,” said Recker. “Before that happens, I will send the code.”

“The code?” Flint felt himself sinking deeper into a morass of subterfuge.

“The reactor’s destruct code, of course,” said Recker.

“How much of this was predicted?” asked Vazox, roaring with laughter.

When Recker answered, he sounded almost puzzled, as if he wasn’t quite sure himself. “This is just how it turned out, Captain Vazox.”

Hearing the response made Flint ask himself exactly how much Recker acted on instinct and how much he acted on rational thought. He remembered Larson telling him about the Expectancy Delta and surely Recker scored highly on it. There again, Flint was certain he also had a high delta, else he wouldn’t have been chosen for this mission. How many of his own actions were driven – perhaps unknowingly – by instinct, he wondered. Maybe he was no more than a statistical outlier, or maybe his instinct was influenced by cosmic forces, such as the gods which Lieutenant Vance had learned about on the Ancidium.

Thinking about it made Flint’s head swim. He didn’t believe in gods as such, though he did believe that forces existed in the universe which were beyond his comprehension. He also believed in statistics and, until he saw concrete proof that it was otherwise, he decided that plain old numbers were what separated him, Vazox and Recker from most other people. Numbers were something he could understand.

Screw it. I could have just got lucky a few times in the past. Who knows what’ll happen in the future?

“What are you expecting from the destruct event, sir?” asked Flint, shaking off the thoughts.

“Research Lead Moseley provided a number of scenarios,” said Recker. “Stasis is one possible outcome, as is an explosive burst of energy. Other outcomes have been speculated.”

“What other outcomes, sir?”

“Unknown,” said Recker flatly. “The stolen ingar-ternium reactor was the newest design and much larger than those which went before it.”

“The Kilvar can expect fireworks,” said Flint.

“Not only fireworks,” said Recker. “They can also expect two exium-powered annihilators to exit lightspeed and begin firing destroyer cannons and ternium-accelerated Terrus projectiles at whatever is left.”

“A straightforward plan without unnecessary embellishment,” said Vazox approvingly.

“What if the Kilvar return to Basalt?” asked Flint, feeling like someone needed to consider the other possibilities. “Our fleet has no other warships capable of defeating them.”

“This is a chance we have to take, Captain Flint. From what we know of the Kilvar, their method of draining life is slow. Should they come back, I will recall the Nightfall and Takrivon.” He paused. “Besides, the alliance will soon have additional exium-class warships available.”

The response didn’t exactly fill Flint with confidence, but he recognized there was no perfect way to handle the Kilvar. The alliance could sit back and defend, or they could take the initiative. In general, Flint favoured the latter.

“So we sit back and wait for the reactor’s FTL comm?” he said.

“The wait will not be a long one,” said Vazox with confidence. “The Kilvar have the scent of our life energies. They will be close by.”

“I’m sure of it,” said Recker. “If we can destroy the enemy’s forward position, perhaps we will buy ourselves the time to equip more of our warships with exium.” He cleared his throat. “And to engineer out the problems we have encountered with the substance so far.”

“With a fleet of annihilators like the Takrivon and Nightfall, we would send the Kilvar running, with fear in their shrivelled hearts and shit trailing from their assholes like a million brown rivers!” exclaimed Vazox.

“That’s an image I didn’t want,” said Flint.

“I’ll leave you with it – I have other matters to attend,” laughed Recker. The laughter faded at once. “Many other matters. Captain Vazox, once the reloading of your magazines is complete, lift off immediately and await further orders.”

“Yes, Fleet Admiral.”

The channel went dead and Flint exhaled. He felt tightly coiled and he fidgeted with cold energy. He’d come from the depths of despair to the start of a new opportunity, and his emotions wouldn’t settle. He breathed deeply and forced himself into a state of calm.

“This is moving fast,” said Larson, her eyes gleaming.

“Remembering the past, Commander?” asked Flint.

“Maybe. A little.” Larson smiled. “Give me peace over war every day of the week, but…” She tailed off, her gaze distant.

“You’ll have to tell me about it one day.”

“I will. Good times and bad times, rolled into one. Somehow, it’s the highs I remember the most, in spite of what happened.”

Flint nodded, wondering if he’d feel the same a dozen years from now – assuming this conflict with the Kilvar ended in an improbable victory. Larson watched him, as if his emotions were playing out on his face like a sensor feed coming directly from his brain. Her own expression was one of understanding, tinged with sadness.

Closing his eyes briefly, Flint absorbed everything which had happened since he first boarded the Nightfall. From a savage encounter with the Kilvar he’d come to this next mission filled with new unknowns and new dangers.

The same as it ever was.

Chapter Eleven

“Let’s have some status reports!” said Flint, escaping his reverie.

One-by-one, his crew reported. They didn’t have much to say, since the Nightfall had emerged from its recent engagement physically unscathed. The only concern was the high base level on the propulsion and Flint wasn’t expecting a resolution to that any time soon – if at all. Nevertheless, he applied some pressure in the hunt for answers.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, what options?” he asked.

“I can’t see any easy ones, sir,” said Fredericks. “The exium module and the propulsion are now inextricably linked – even if we extracted the exium module from the Nightfall’s hull, the ternium modules would switch back into standard overstress, with the potential outcome we’ve already discussed.”

“What about a change to the control software?” Flint persisted. “Could you reprogram it so that the exium module gradually reduces its demands on the propulsion?”

“No, sir - I’ve had a brief look at the coding. The software is already designed to bring the output level down to the standard base level once the onboard systems no longer require a high draw.”

“Yet it’s not happening, Lieutenant. Care to speculate why? Software caused this, so software can fix it, surely?”

“You’d think,” said Fredericks. He scratched his head with one finger. “Here’s some speculation: the control software operates the control hardware. The control hardware limits the power flow between the different systems by modifying the atomic state of the conduits so they allow more or less through. However, there’s a floor level below which the control hardware can’t reduce the flow any further. If I ran an audit, I’m sure I’d find every single conduit on the Nightfall is set to minimum flow.”

“Do you believe the exium is...” Flint searched for the right word. “…overriding the control hardware?”

“Not actively overriding, sir. I think the exium is simply beyond the capabilities of the hardware to restrain.” He raised a hand to scratch his head again and stopped himself. “The trouble is, I’m not sure our existing control hardware designs could be modified to handle the exium.”

“A ground-up redesign would take years,” said Lieutenant Copeland.

“Which means we’re not going to have total control over an exium-equipped warship for a long time,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Fredericks, send your findings to RL Moseley and his team.” He turned and pointed at Lieutenant Burner. “Make sure the files arrive at the right place.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I have a question,” said Lieutenant Maddox. “If the Nightfall’s conduits are at minimum flow, yet we’re still able to provide enough power to the energy shield and all this other new hardware, doesn’t that mean if the conduits were suddenly set to maximum flow—”

“Everything would go bang?” said Fredericks. “Very probably. There again, the high engine base means that might happen anyway, even with the conduits at minimum.”

“I still don’t understand why the software can’t stop this happening,” said Lieutenant Garrett.

“Because the software can’t make the hardware operate beyond its limits,” said Fredericks patiently. “As we’ve already discussed, we can’t simply shut down the Nightfall – a ternium module will always generate this base level of energy we’ve been talking about, and if we cause it to drop out of superstress there’ll likely be an incident.”

“Does this mean the Nightfall and Takrivon are both effectively finished?” said Becerra.

“We have a lot of intelligent and talented people in the alliance,” said Fredericks. “I’m sure they’ll come up with something.”

“It doesn’t sound like you believe it,” said Becerra.

“I’m trying hard to convince myself. The realist in me thinks these annihilators are unstable and exceptionally dangerous. Worst of all, we have no way to control or manage what’s going to happen to them. If we didn’t need the Nightfall and Takrivon so badly, I’d suggest abandoning both and setting them into permanent lightspeed so that the alliance never saw either warship again.”

“On the plus side, they’re good at blowing up the Kilvar,” said Garrett. “That’s got to count for something, huh?”

“A big something,” Fredericks agreed. “I only hope…ah hell, let’s just keep giving the Kilvar scumbags what they deserve. Whatever happens on the technical side, we’ll deal with it.”

“That’s what we’ll do,” said Flint, rolling his shoulders to ease the tightness in them.

He wanted to stand and pace, or – better yet – go for a walk through the narrow passages of the warship. Unfortunately, circumstances dictated he stay seated, and so he did. Minutes went by and he alternated his attention between the sensor feeds. The Amber base was ruined and it would be months before it was anything like operational again, and years before the traces of this attack were erased – assuming high command decided to rebuild here. Elsewhere, Flint saw more and more signs of the surface damage caused by the debris which had fallen when the Kilvar first attacked the local defence fleet.

“All those people who left,” said Larson softly. “I wonder if they’ll ever come back.”

“Not in the near future,” said Flint with a shake of his head. “The damage to Basalt is more than physical. People will remember. And who’s to promise them this won’t happen again?”

“We’ve lost another planet,” said Larson. “One to the Lavorix and one to the Kilvar.”

“At least this time the people got away.”

“Most of them.”

“We aren’t abandoning anyone. The Voyager is on its way here and I’m sure there’ll be a lot of other transports accompanying it.”

“The sooner the reactor sends its FTL comm, the better.”

“I’d prefer it to happen when Takrivon’s magazines are full,” said Flint.

“That’ll be another thirty minutes,” said Larson. “I think I’d rather things were moving again.”

Flint didn’t answer. One of the sensor feeds was targeted on the Takrivon and he watched with interest. The Terrus guns were reloaded via chutes behind each turret. Lifter shuttles carried the projectiles using their gravity chains, and they lowered the huge slugs into the hull openings. From there, gravity fields brought the slugs safely into the magazine. The process was fully automated, and a line of lifter shuttles hovered patiently as they waited their turn.

The Takrivon didn’t have thirty minutes.

“Sir, I have Fleet Admiral Recker on the comms,” said Burner.

“Put him on the open channel.”

Recker spoke at once. “We received the FTL comm from the reactor about two minutes ago, and we replied with the destruct code.”

“Where are the Kilvar located?” asked Captain Vazox.

“A place approximately an hour’s high lightspeed from here – the Landnir system. It’s nowhere of any note – just another solar system out of a trillion and more others,” said Recker. “No ships in our fleet could have made it from Basalt to Landnir in an hour, which tells us the Kilvar warships can attain a higher lightspeed multiplier than ours.”

“Or they use gateway technology,” said Larson.

“That’s a possibility,” said Recker. “I’d be interested to find proof one way or another, but that’s by-the-by. The Nightfall and Takrivon will depart immediately. We could probably do something to your propulsions to increase their multiplier. I’m sure we can all agree that would not be wise.”

“Any further instructions for us, Fleet Admiral?” asked Flint.

“Do what you must. Admiral Ivinstol and I will muster reinforcements and order them to a location near Landnir. You’ll understand we won’t commit those warships unless we have certainty there’ll be no bloodbath.” Recker went silent for a moment. “Or unless the need is greater than the sacrifice.”

“It will not come to that, Fleet Admiral!” said Vazox with anger. “If the outcome was useful, I would detonate my own vessel rather than lose so many of our fleet!”

Flint turned to Fredericks and raised an eyebrow in question. Can we detonate the Nightfall as easily as that? Fredericks only shrugged in response.

“I’d prefer you to return safely,” said Recker. Some officers might have said it as a platitude, but Flint heard nothing but sincerity. “Go and please come back. This war is going to take the best we have.”

The channel went dead, and Flint looked first at the sensor feed of the Takrivon – where two Terrus projectiles had just been dropped into place – and then at Larson. Her expression showed eagerness with little sign of fear.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, do you have the coordinates of the Landnir system?” Flint asked.

“Yes, sir. I’ve entered them into our navigational system.”

“We have clearance to depart from a quarter-million klicks, sir,” said Becerra. “And here comes the Takrivon.”

The second annihilator lifted off vertically and climbed rapidly into the sky, its acceleration increasing markedly once it was in the planet’s upper atmosphere. Not wishing to be left behind, Flint brought the Nightfall out of stationary and set off after the Takrivon. Both battleships tore away from the planet and, once free of the atmosphere, Flint pushed the engines to one hundred percent.

“Sir, that’s going to increase the base power level,” said Fredericks.

Flint cursed at the reminder. If the coming mission was to succeed, he couldn’t be forever watching the instrumentation in case he requested too much from the annihilator. Holding back wouldn’t be an option.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, we need to talk,” he said.

“Yes, sir, we do,” said Fredericks. “I know what you’re going to ask and I don’t know if I have the answers you want. Only a few minutes ago while you were drumming your fingers and looking as if you wanted to punch the forward bulkhead, I was in a comms channel with the senior engine officer on the Takrivon. It sounds as if she eats, sleeps and dreams warship propulsions, but she’s as much in the dark for a solution as we are.”

“And you can’t talk with her any more once we’re at lightspeed,” said Flint.

“Not until we’re at Landnir,” Fredericks confirmed.

“We’re approaching a quarter-million klicks, sir,” said Becerra.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

He decreased velocity steadily and then brought the Nightfall to a standstill. The Takrivon had arrived a few seconds before and was stationary, five hundred kilometres to starboard. On the underside feed, Basalt looked superficially as peaceful as ever and only when Flint narrowed his eyes did he spot the tell-tale imperfections resulting from the recent engagement between the Kilvar and the local defence fleet.

“I can’t let myself hate them,” he said, more to himself than anyone.

“Sometimes hate is the only way to give yourself strength,” said Larson. “If you can control it.”

“I don’t want to do the wrong thing because of my anger, Commander.”

She tapped the side of her head. “That’s when you rely on what’s up here.”

Flint nodded and turned his attention once again to the controls. On this mission, he was commanding officer, but Larson had commanded as well. Not only that, Flint was certain she had vastly more combat experience than he did. He didn’t feel diminished by it, but he was still finding his way.

“We’ve been issued a new synch code from the Takrivon, sir,” said Burner.

“Accept it.”

“Done.”

“We’ve received the remote command to warm up our ternium drive,” said Fredericks. “The target destination is two billion klicks from the last known position of the ingar-ternium reactor.”

“Watch your readouts closely,” said Flint. It wasn’t something his crew would forget, but he was on edge and needed to be certain everyone was focused.

“I’m watching,” Fredericks confirmed. “Everything’s right where it needs to be.”

“Like that ever matters,” said Garrett sourly.

Nobody said anything further and the crew monitored their instrumentation and the sensor feeds anxiously. Flint’s eyes kept going of their own accord to the engine base power level. The ternium drive warmup hadn’t affected it, but he couldn’t stop looking.

“Ten seconds and we go,” said Fredericks.

Flint grimaced in anticipation. The ternium drive fired the Nightfall into lightspeed and the side-effects were comparatively mild. A second bonus came when Flint’s crew reported no unexpected issues or peculiar readouts.

“That’s our first hurdle jumped,” said Fredericks. “It was an easy one.”

Five minutes later and with no sign of deterioration in the hardware, Flint judged it safe to leave his seat. He removed his combat suit helmet and drank two cups of metallic fruit juice from the replicator, while the freezing air from the bridge reminded him what it was to be alive. The juice was chilled too and it went down his throat like a river of ice, quenching his thirst and washing away the lingering aftereffects of the transition.

When Flint replaced his helmet, returning to the controlled environment within his suit, he briefly wished he were in a place where his skin could once again experience what it was like to be hot or cold, wet or wind-blown. It wasn’t to be.

He positioned himself at the propulsion station. In front of each officer were screens of ever-changing technical data which Flint could certainly understand given time, though at nothing like the required speed.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, I need your opinion on the rising engine base level. I don’t want to be always staring at the gauge.”

“Sir, my opinion is likely your own. The ingar-ternium reactor might have taken out a few Kilvar warships. If they were stupid enough to be clustered, or if the reactor detonation was more dramatic than expected, the enemy might even have lost a large proportion of their resources at Landnir. Of course, if the reactor’s destruction didn’t produce the anticipated outcome, or if the Kilvar have as many warships at Landnir as I personally believe them to have, we’re going to have a real fight on our hands.” Fredericks stared at Flint and the man’s expression was deadly serious. “You can’t approach the conflict worrying too much about the hardware. Give it everything.”

It was enough for Flint. “Thank you, Lieutenant, I will. What about our ability to detonate the Nightfall’s propulsion?”

“Like Captain Vazox mentioned? I don’t think it’s possible to do it in a controlled fashion. Maybe it wouldn’t happen anyway, whatever we did. And for the record, the senior engine officer on the Takrivon agrees with me, so I’d suggest that Captain Vazox’s talk about making these annihilators explode at the push of a button is more a reflection of his hopes than the reality.”

Flint nodded his understanding and returned to his station. “I don’t normally offer recommendations like keeping fingers crossed, but on this occasion, I’ll make an exception. Within reason, we’ll treat the Nightfall no differently than if it were a standard annihilator and hope it comes through for us.” He tapped his fingertips on the edge of his console in thought. “Now, somebody tell me about the Landnir system.”

“One massive star and twelve planets, sir,” said Burner. “The reactor’s FTL comm placed it near the sixth planet, which is called Firatus. Our two-billion-klick arrival place will bring us out close to planet seven – Raltus - which, according to our data on their orbital positioning, should be almost in alignment with Firatus.”

“Anything I need to know about these planets?” asked Flint.

“Firatus is a gas giant with a predictably large diameter and a predictably volatile atmosphere,” said Burner. “Raltus is your standard ball of rock. Like the Fleet Admiral told us, there’s nothing of any note in the Landnir system.”

“Except a bunch of life-sucking Kilvar aliens,” said Garrett.

“And probably a massive stasis sphere created by the ingar-ternium reactor,” added Becerra. “Along with a trillion tons or so of Kilvar wreckage resulting from the blast. If we’re lucky.”

“Fine, there’s nothing of any note in Landnir except for those things you mentioned,” said Burner.

“It doesn’t sound like there’s anything specific we can do to prepare,” said Maddox.

“Watch and act,” said Flint, wondering if he’d just parroted a phrase he’d unconsciously remembered from his training classes years before.

“Watch, act, kick butt,” said Larson. “You forgot the important part.”

“So I did,” said Flint dryly. He checked the journey timer and discovered that it was almost halfway over already. The perception of time never seemed to work in his favour.

Out of courtesy, he spoke for a short time with Lieutenant Vance. The man was well-informed, since Becerra had updated him during the short respite at Basalt. Vance listened attentively to the new information and accepted it without argument or giving any indication it was unwelcome.

“Like you said when we first came onboard - it doesn’t sound like you’ll be ordering a deployment for this one, sir.”

“Never say never, Lieutenant.”

Flint closed the channel and got on with his other duties, such as they were. Aside from the issues caused by the exium module, the Nightfall was otherwise in full working order. The Daklan knew how to build and their alliance with humanity had brought the best out of both species when it came to matters of war. The annihilator seemed utterly indomitable and Flint was determined that he’d mete out a whole lot more punishment on the Kilvar before this was over.

With twenty minutes left on the journey timer, he readied himself for whatever was to come.

Chapter Twelve

The re-entry to local space made the Nightfall shake like it was caught in an impossible turbulence. For a few seconds it lasted, and Flint realised the transition was done without him feeling any ill-effects.

“Sensors!” he yelled, requesting full power from the engines. The bulkhead feeds were blank, but he could hear the noise and feel the accelerative forces pushing him into his seat.

“Coming up,” said Burner loudly over the din. “Any second.”

“Lieutenant Fredericks, please confirm the successful activation of the ternium suppressors.”

“The suppressors worked like they’re meant to, sir,” said Fredericks. “No reported faults on the hardware.”

Flint executed a series of evasive manoeuvres. Even knowing the Kilvar were out here, he doubted the annihilator was in immediate detection range. The power draw caused the engine base level to nudge up by such a tiny fraction that Flint told himself it wasn’t important.

“Here we go,” said Garrett.

The feeds appeared, all stars and darkness. Flint’s eyes scoured them, hunting for danger.

“Commencing the nears,” said Garrett.

“Fars underway,” said Burner.

“I’m searching for points of interest,” said Becerra. “Here’s the Takrivon, travelling fast and on a divergent course to ours.”

Captain Vazox had taken no chances either and was guiding his warship through a series of twisting turns. As Flint watched, the Daklan levelled out his ship and entered a sweeping arc that would bring the Takrivon back towards the Nightfall.

“Nears complete and nothing to report,” said Garrett. “I’m switching to the fars.”

“I’ve located Raltus, sir,” said Becerra. “It’s on the feed at twenty million klicks.”

The planet was exactly like Burner had described, being mostly uninteresting except for the unevenness of its surface which Flint guessed was a result of some past and traumatic upheaval. A huge ridge – easily discerned even from this distance - ran north to south for much of the visible circumference, as if two of the surface plates had collided with such impetus that their movement hadn’t stopped until this was the result. Elsewhere, Flint spotted cracks and other much smaller ridges.

“Don’t waste any time on Raltus, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Locate Firatus – let’s see what we’ve come for.”

“On it, sir.”

“How are the fars coming on?” asked Flint.

“Done,” said Burner. “No hostiles detected.”

“The Takrivon’s crew have located no signs of the Kilvar either, sir,” said Garrett. “It looks like we’re in the clear for now.”

“Probably not for long,” said Flint. “The enemy are never slow to discover our whereabouts and we all know that’s because of the exium modules.”

It was a reminder worth repeating and saying it aloud gave Flint a sense of renewed urgency. While it was possible the local Kilvar forces were entirely neutralised by the ingar-ternium reactor, he wasn’t banking on it being true.

“I’ve located Firatus, sir,” said Becerra. “Something doesn’t look right. I’m trying to interpret the sensor data.”

The feed – at two billion kilometres – was far too poor for Flint to make out any details. From this distance, Firatus was little more than a brownish sphere with muddy reds, greys and yellows mixed in.

“What am I looking for?” asked Flint, staring hard at the feed. Something about it seemed wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“There’s no surface movement, sir,” said Becerra.

“Stasis?” asked Flint.

“That’s a distinct possibility, sir. I’m still reading through the data.”

“Need a hand?” asked Burner.

“Keep watching the fars,” Flint warned. “And get me a channel to Captain Vazox.”

“Channel open, sir,” said Garrett a few moments later.

“We must act quickly,” said Vazox without preamble. “Before the Kilvar sniff out our exium and come begging us to extinguish their miserable existences.”

“We believe Firatus is in stasis,” said Flint.

“As do we,” said Vazox. “My sensor officers are sure the stasis sphere affects only a part of the planet – no more than half of the visible area. We may be unable to obtain certainty from so far.”

“It is not viable for us to cross the two billion klicks without entering lightspeed,” said Flint. “And I would prefer to retain the Nightfall’s SRTs for emergencies. I suggest we scan for a short additional time and then warm up our ternium drives for another jump.”

Vazox didn’t respond verbally and made a noise in his throat which Flint took to be one of uncertainty.

“What is wrong?” asked Flint.

“I feel concern. I cannot explain why.”

When Flint stopped and thought about it, he also noticed a tickling of unease. The reason for it soon became apparent.

“Shit! I’ve detected an object low above Raltus, sir!” said Becerra. “It’s definitely Kilvar in origin!”

Flint swung towards the sensor feeds and his eyes locked on the object which Becerra had located. It was massive and currently out of focus.

“Enhance!” he shouted. “Captain Vazox, beware!”

“We see it,” said Vazox. “Recommend we remain in place and scan.”

“Agreed,” said Flint. He checked the synch code was still active, in case the two warships needed to get away quickly. “If we’ve seen them, it won’t be long before they see us.”

“Enhancement complete,” said Becerra. “Oh crap!”

At first, Flint thought Becerra had cursed because of something on the enhancement. He studied the feed - the object at Raltus was orbiting the planet steadily and at an altitude of five hundred kilometres. From this angle – almost directly above - it appeared to be a massive, rectangular platform, on top of which were shapes like turrets and launchers, along with other structures, types unknown.

The feed overlay estimated the platform’s measurements at fifty kilometres by twenty, with an unknown depth. Casting his mind back, Flint recalled seeing a similar object outside the Evia stasis sphere. At the time, he’d been infinitely glad that his warship wasn’t required to engage.

Then, Flint realised the real reason for Becerra’s exclamation. The tactical screen didn’t show just one of these platforms, it showed two, the second having been fed across the battle network by the Takrivon. As Flint watched, a third red dot appeared.

“Damnit, how many are there?” he asked.

“No more visible, sir,” said Burner. “The three we’ve detected are on differing orbital paths, but they’re all travelling at the same velocity. I’ve run their trajectories into a predictive model and there might be a total of seven or eight of those platforms.”

The discovery of the Kilvar at Raltus changed things completely and not for the better, since it indicated they might have a presence throughout the Landnir system. What the purpose was of the orbiting platforms, Flint didn’t know, but he suspected they were more than just weapons.

“We should get out of here, sir,” said Larson.

“I know it,” said Flint.

He ran through the options in his mind. Warming up the ternium drive for a trip to Firatus was now too risky, leaving him to choose between an SRT or the phase shift. An SRT – even one aimed at an entirely different location in the Landnir system – might just drop the Nightfall and Takrivon into the middle of yet more Kilvar.

At that moment, a colossal explosion of dark energy erupted around the Takrivon, concealing it briefly from view. The blast faded and Flint saw the annihilator, with its energy shield active and coloured in the deepest of blues. A second blast hit the Takrivon a split-second later. Then, every one of the Nightfall’s sensor arrays went black.

“We’ve been hit!” yelled Fredericks. “The power draw on our shield has gone crazy!”

With no time to make a rational decision between the SRT and the phase shift, Flint chose the latter. His finger stabbed into the activation switch on his panel top.

“Phase shift active!” he said.

Through the palms of his hands, Flint felt a vibration, faint enough to be almost imperceptible, yet deep and insistent at the same time. The vibration was accompanied by a hard, grating sound, like a glacier moving inexorably down a rocky valley, and that sound vied for primacy with the superstress inhalation of the propulsion.

“We need to get out of here, sir!” said Larson, her voice hard.

Flint glanced at the bulkhead feeds – each of them nothing but stark, bright static, casting shadows across the bridge - and thrust the controls along their runners. The Nightfall accelerated with the same urgency as it always did – the forces of it threatening to crush him – and the velocity gauge climbed fast.

For long moments, Flint held the controls in place, giving his brain a chance to catch up. The sensor feeds were lost in the phase shift and showed no sign they were coming back. At least the instrumentation was working fine, though the Kilvar energy weapon had produced a monumental spike on the engines. The exium module had compensated by increasing the propulsion base level output and it was still climbing.

“Is there any way we can get the sensors back?” shouted Flint. “Lieutenant Fredericks, tell me what’s happening with the base power level.” He took a breath. “Attempt contact with the Takrivon.” Another breath. “And what the hell was it the Kilvar fired at us?”

“No comms link available to anywhere, sir,” said Garrett. “All receptors are grey.”

“Sir, the base power level is climbing as you’ve doubtless already noticed,” said Fredericks. “The phase shift hardware is pulling a whole lot of juice.”

“Is there anything we can do to slow the base level increase?” asked Flint.

“I’ll check it out and let you know, sir. I can’t imagine the answer being any different to a no, but the phase shift hardware is new to us, so I’ll see what I can find.”

“Do we need to maintain our acceleration, sir?” asked Larson.

Flint’s fingers were still locked around the control bars and his forearms were tensed. “Probably not,” he said, backing off. “We don’t need the extra draw either,” he added, understanding what Larson was getting at.

The feeling of acceleration ended, and Flint let the Nightfall coast through the vacuum he could no longer see.

“The readings from that Kilvar weapon aren’t anything I recognize, sir,” said Lieutenant Copeland. “Just going by the quantity of energy released, I’d guess one or two shots would be enough to take out almost anything that doesn’t have an energy shield.”

“That was a lot of hardware around Raltus,” said Maddox. “Seven or eight of those platforms, assuming Lieutenant Burner’s modelling is correct.”

“Plus whatever else we didn’t see,” said Becerra.

Flint wanted to swear repeatedly. Instead, he kept it constructive. “We’re sensor and comms blind, and in hostile territory,” he said. “We’ve been assured the Kilvar can’t detect us in phase shift, but without demonstrable proof, I can’t return us to normal phase until I have assurances we won’t appear in the centre of an enemy fleet which has been tracking us.” He bared his teeth, thinking. “We may have to chain a couple of SRTs and cancel the phase shift wherever we arrive. That’ll buy us some breathing room.”

It was a bad start to the mission. While the Kilvar presence was confirmed, their total numbers and positions were two big unknowns. One thing was certain – the enemy had definitely not been neutralised by the destructing ingar-ternium reactor, even though the stasis sphere at Firatus was a good indicator they’d either suffered losses or had some warships trapped.

“It’s time for a temporary withdrawal,” said Flint eventually. “We’ll execute two SRTs and then cancel the phase shift. That should allow us to contact the Takrivon, and from there we can coordinate our actions.”

“We lost the synch and the battle network,” Becerra reminded him.

“Not good, but expected,” said Flint.

“And remember, there’s a five-minute cooldown on the phase shift, sir,” said Fredericks. “That’s five minutes between each activation, whether in or out. From what I’ve read in the accompanying documentation, that’s to allow a dissipation of the charge in the atomic—”

“Five minutes it is,” said Flint, cutting off an explanation he didn’t need to hear right now. “That leaves us about two minutes before we can return to normal space.”

“I’m still trying to nail down our exact position, sir,” said Becerra. “Without the sensors, we’re relying on the Nightfall’s internal gyroscopes to determine our location.”

“What’s the difficulty?” asked Flint.

“The gyroscopes are designed for a standard off-the-shelf annihilator, not one that’s capable of hitting twelve thousand klicks per second. That burst of acceleration just after we shifted phase produced a few null readings.”

Flint closed his eyes and berated himself for not anticipating a problem like this. “Can you resolve it?”

“Yes, sir. It shouldn’t take long, but the method has introduced a small element of uncertainty in the outcome.”

“We’re not going to collide with a planet at the end of our SRT,” said Maddox. “Firstly, because there’s almost zero chance of it happening anyway, and secondly because we’re phase shifted.”

“I know,” said Becerra. “But if our positioning is uncertain, the navigational system might refuse to execute an SRT. Once we enter normal space, everything should automatically re-calibrate.”

“Might refuse?” asked Flint.

“By all means give it a try whenever you wish, sir.”

“We can wait a few minutes,” said Flint.

He let Becerra work on a solution. All things considered, he didn’t need to introduce an extra element of risk into the situation.

“I think I’ve figured it out, sir,” said Becerra, shortly after. “The results are on the tactical.”

Flint gave it only a glance. The zoomed-out display showed Landnir and its twelve planets, with the Nightfall not far distant from Raltus – the seventh planet.

“Let’s hit that SRT,” Flint said, touching his fingertip on the tactical.

The Nightfall completed its in-out transition, leaving him feeling like crap. In the seat adjacent, Commander Larson looked as fresh as ever. Cursing his physical vulnerability to lightspeed transitions, Flint poked the tactical screen for a second time, selecting a maximum-duration SRT on the same trajectory as the previous.

“We’re going in ten,” he said.

Flint counted out those ten seconds in his head and then pressed the activation button. The next in-out was no better and no worse than the first.

Better a kick in the balls than a kick in the balls and a punch in the face.

“We can switch into normal phase at any time, sir,” said Fredericks.

“Be ready on the sensors and comms,” said Flint. “The moment I deactivate the phase shift, I want to know the Takrivon’s location and I want a comms channel to Captain Vazox.

“Yes, sir,” said Garrett.

“Ready on the weapons,” said Larson.

Flint nodded once in acknowledgement and, with a sense of trepidation, he returned the Nightfall to normal phase.

Chapter Thirteen

The sensors came back immediately, showing none of the delay associated with a lightspeed transition. Flint gave the Nightfall everything and it burst from its arrival point. He tried not to look at the propulsion base level readings, which he was sure would be heading the wrong way.

“Near scans running,” said Becerra.

“I’ve got the fars,” added Burner.

“Running a comms sweep for the Takrivon, sir,” said Garrett. “If they’re back in normal phase after a couple of SRTs, they’re going to be a long way distant, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Come on, come on,” muttered Flint.

“Nears done and all clear.”

“Fars still running,” said Burner. “Landnir isn’t much more than a speck from this range.”

“There’s no sign of the Takrivon, sir,” said Garrett.

“Damnit,” said Flint. “They must be phase shifted.”

“Captain Vazox doesn’t like inaction,” said Larson. “He won’t wait long.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” said Flint. Even so, he was uneasy. Vazox was as bold as they came and he wouldn’t deliberately hide out of phase while the Nightfall and its crew shouldered the risk of first emergence.

“I still don’t like it,” said Larson.

“Nor do I,” said Flint. He cursed. “Where’s that damned warship?”

He remembered the darker blue of its energy shield after the Kilvar energy weapon attacks. From experience, Flint knew that the deeper the hue, the more power the shields were draining. Perhaps some of the Takrivon’s hardware had failed. Or worse.

“Let’s give him some time,” said Flint, trying not to dwell on an outcome which wasn’t yet proven.

“Fars done and clear,” said Burner. “We’re way out from our starting point. There’s no chance the sensors will pick up anything useful about the Kilvar from here.”

Flint hauled back on the controls and the Nightfall rapidly shed its velocity. “Just keep watch around us, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lieutenant Becerra, please contact the Amber base – Fleet Admiral Recker if you can get hold of him – and provide an update.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve repeated the comms receptor sweep,” said Garrett. “I got the same result as the first time.”

“Keep trying,” said Flint. “If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I’d be happy to hear them. Captain Vazox is either running late, or he’s in trouble.”

“Assuming he activated his phase shift at the exact same moment as we did, he’s only three or four minutes past the deactivation cooldown,” said Copeland.

“That’s enough to have me concerned, Lieutenant.”

“Me too, sir. I just thought I’d point out we’re talking minutes late, not hours.”

“I’ve run through the recorded feeds, sir,” said Burner. “If the Takrivon was destroyed, it happened after we phase shifted.”

Flint clenched his fists and it was difficult to stop himself punching the front of his console. “If Captain Vazox is suffering technical issues, this is a really bad time for it,” he said.

“How long do we wait, sir?” asked Maddox.

“At least until we’ve heard from Basalt.”

“But the Kilvar—”

“I know.”

“I’m in contact with Amber, sir,” said Becerra. “The ground control officer is trying to get hold of the Fleet Admiral.”

Flint drummed his fingers and watched the sensors. The Kilvar had a nose for exium and now they’d lost the ingar-ternium reactor, they’d once again be sniffing for traces of the good stuff. If they sniffed hard enough, the trail would lead directly to the Nightfall and Flint wasn’t ready for another engagement – not without the Takrivon’s additional firepower.

“Here’s the Fleet Admiral, sir,” said Becerra. “On the open channel.”

“Captain Flint,” said Recker. “My ground officer has relayed a brief outline of what you’ve found and what has happened.”

“Yes, sir. The Takrivon has gone missing, and we’ve located Kilvar.”

“Captain Vazox is an exceptionally capable officer,” said Recker. “If there is a problem to be overcome, he will find a way.”

“He will, sir,” said Flint. “For the moment, the Nightfall is the only active warship in the arena.” He knew that Recker would almost certainly accept his recommendations and Flint offered one. “I propose to hold my warship in its current location for a short time, in hope of the Takrivon’s reappearance. Afterwards, whatever the outcome, we will SRT to the other planets in the Landnir system and gather intel on the Kilvar. Should we find an opportunity to strike, we will do so where the targets are vulnerable or of a high value.”

“These orbital platforms have me worried,” said Recker. “We lost many warships to them at Evia.”

“The Nightfall can likely defeat a single one of those platforms, sir,” said Flint. “Though I won’t take the risk unless it’s necessary.”

“Your proposals don’t fill me with confidence,” said Recker, not pulling any punches in his evaluation. “However, I trust you to do what’s right. Go - do what you must. And good luck.”

With that, the channel went dead. Flint looked across at Larson and raised an eyebrow.

“He said he trusts you, sir,” she said. “That’s why he lets you get on with it.”

“Don’t worry – I enjoy the responsibility, Commander. This is far better than having every decision cross-examined.” Flint set a timer on his console. “Three minutes,” he said. “If Captain Vazox doesn’t show up by then, we’re proceeding with the mission.”

A minute went by and the only thing on the feeds was cold, dark space, dotted with faraway stars. Flint thought hard, seeking a way to improve the odds of success. His mind kept returning to the missing Takrivon. The most hopeful possibility was that Vazox and his warship had become trapped in phase shift, though if a solution existed for that problem, Flint didn’t know what it was.

“Sir, I might have something,” said Burner.

Flint turned. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“A few minutes ago when we were out of phase, you asked if there was any way to get the sensors back.”

“Yes, I did.” Flint didn’t even know why he’d asked the question, since he’d been told the Nightfall would be sensor blind during a phase shift. Now it appeared Lieutenant Burner might have figured something out. “Tell me what you’ve found.”

“It’s not easy to explain,” said Burner. “If I start telling you the long version, will you cut me off like you did Lieutenant Fredericks?”

Flint was rapidly learning that Burner was one of those people against whom it was hard to take offense. “Why don’t you start from the beginning and I’ll decide on the way if I want to hear the full details?”

Burner took a deep breath. “Well, sir, I believe the sensors are actually gathering the data we need, it’s just that the processing backend is unable to interpret it correctly.”

“And you can fix that?”

“Kind of. The sensors capture a lot of what we call fringe data – it’s part of what enables us to detect lightspeed tunnels. As you’re aware, a lightspeed transition effectively places a warship out of phase for an infinitesimally short duration, which makes both the crew and the hardware immune to the acceleration into lightspeed.”

“Acceleration isn’t strictly speaking the accurate term,” said Fredericks.

“I know,” said Burner. “But in terms of the—”

“Move on, please,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. So up until they built the Nightfall and Takrivon, we lacked the technical capability to sustain that phase shift for any length of time. Our scientists can’t yet make the sensors work at lightspeed, but the arrays don’t stop gathering data until the lightspeed transition is complete.”

Flint wavered on the brink of telling Burner to speed things up, but he held his tongue on the basis that he might learn something useful.

“The trouble is,” Burner continued, “during phase shift, we’re only gathering this fringe data I mentioned, and it contains so much noise it’s not usually feasible - or useful - to process it.”

“I thought you said the fringe data is used to detect lightspeed tunnels,” said Flint.

“It is, sir,” said Burner. “Generally that detection is performed by running an on-demand interpretation of the fringe data. What I’m suggesting is continuous interpretation.”

“Which will require a significant amount of processing,” guessed Flint.

Burner gave a tight smile. “Continuous interpretation of the fringe data – such as we’ll need in order to obtain a sensor view of what’s happening in a different phase to ours – is going to require an incredible amount of processing grunt.”

“We have twelve obliterator cores on the Nightfall,” said Flint. He knew that the sensors had one dedicated core, which wasn’t usually overworked. “I’m sure we can spare two for the sensors.”

“I’ve run some calculations, sir. This might need six cores running flat out.”

“We need six for the weapons and targeting alone,” said Flint. “The rest are assigned to the onboard systems.”

“We can do some rebalancing if necessary, sir,” said Larson.

“We can’t afford to have a slowdown on the targeting,” said Flint.

“There’ll have to be a compromise somewhere along the line, sir,” said Fredericks. “The Nightfall was designed to run with ten cores for maximum efficiency – the extra two are for redundancy. If we dedicate six to the sensors, chances are we’ll lose a few hundredths off the targeting.”

“Which is something I’d like to think we can compensate for,” said Larson.

“We’ll have to,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Burner, will this enable a best-quality feed?”

“I very much doubt it, sir. In truth, I don’t know how it’ll look. Once we start processing the data, I can start applying the usual filters and that should increase the clarity.”

Flint had another thought. “Six obliterators with a consistent, high workload are going to drain a lot of power.”

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “But in comparison to simply holding the Nightfall in phase shift, the extra draw shouldn’t be too concerning.”

“We’ll do it,” said Flint. It wasn’t as if there was much choice. He paused and checked the three-minute timer he’d created, which had fallen to zero during the discussion. “Lieutenant Burner, can you put this into motion immediately?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I said we’d wait three minutes for the Takrivon and it isn’t here. I’ll reactivate the phase shift and we’ll test your method. If we can scout the Landnir system without risk of detection, our task just became infinitely easier.” A final question came to Flint. “Will we have comms?”

“No, sir. Maybe it’s possible to get the comms working, but I have a feeling that would require completely new tech.”

“Let’s get this done,” said Flint.

Without further delay, he activated the phase shift hardware. The same vibration as before returned, and the sensor feeds were all static.

“I’ll need your clearance to reserve the six obliterators, sir,” said Burner.

The request appeared on Flint’s screen and he accepted it. “Done.”

A few seconds later, the utilisation on every one of those cores climbed beyond ninety percent, and three of them nudged towards one hundred percent.

“I’m only seeing static, Lieutenant Burner.”

“One moment, sir.”

The static thinned, until it was no more than randomly appearing grey dots on the sensor feeds. Flint narrowed his eyes and tried to pick out the background stars. It wasn’t easy.

“There’s nothing much to see here, sir,” said Burner. “When we head back into Landnir, we’ll be better placed to test the clarity.”

“You mentioned filters.”

“Yes, sir. Again, those are best applied against a more varied backdrop – such as a planet.”

“What about a Kilvar warship?” asked Garrett. “One just arrived out of an SRT. Make that two – both up on the feed.”

The two warships were joined by a third, then a fourth. Within moments, eight of the Kilvar’s diamond-shaped vessels had appeared within twenty thousand kilometres of the Nightfall.

Flint’s hands were already on the controls and he requested power from the engines. The Nightfall accelerated steadily and he watched the feeds carefully. His rational brain knew the Kilvar couldn’t detect his annihilator, but he certainly didn’t feel relaxed.

“They’re all stationary,” said Becerra. “Probably scanning for us.”

“They definitely can’t detect us in phase shift,” said Bolan. “Right?”

“Right,” Larson confirmed. “Hopefully they think we hightailed it out of here using a mode 3 jump.”

“Let’s put some distance between us,” said Flint. “They came out here because they detected the Nightfall or the exium we’re carrying. I don’t want to find out the hard way that the Kilvar have a way of locating phase shifted warships.”

He pushed the controls further along their runners and the Nightfall’s velocity went past three thousand kilometres per second. On the rear feeds, the Kilvar ships were motionless. A chill ran down Flint’s spine and he felt with certainty that the enemy knew about the phase shift and were actively searching for the annihilator. How successful they’d be, he didn’t know.

“One of their ships entered an SRT, sir,” said Becerra. “It reappeared about a hundred thousand klicks further away from us.”

“Two others entered mode 3 as well, sir,” said Garrett. “One exited lightspeed fifty thousand klicks ahead and the other about eighty thousand klicks portside.”

“What the hell are they doing?” asked Flint.

A fourth Kilvar warship entered an SRT, and, at the precise moment of its departure, it fired a particle beam, which – somehow - struck the Nightfall’s energy shield and caused a power spike on Flint’s console. Two other enemy vessels entered lightspeed, each discharging their own particle beams which also hit the annihilator’s shield.

Instinctively, Flint banked away and when three other Kilvar warships activated SRTs, their particle beams went wide.

“Those vessels reappeared within sixty thousand klicks, sir,” said Garrett. “We still have eight Kilvar warships in our vicinity.”

Flint accelerated harder and banked again, just in time to avoid another two particle beams. The first enemy ships to activate mode 3 recovered from sensor blindness and accelerated. At once, Flint spotted that they were tracking the Nightfall’s previous heading.

“We’re getting out of here,” he said, selecting an SRT destination at random. “Get ready for the jump, folks.”

He activated the Nightfall’s engine mode 3 and the annihilator executed an in-out transition. Grimacing, Flint shook off the hangover and piloted the warship away from its arrival point. The sensors came online a few seconds later and he watched anxiously, to find out if the Kilvar had a way to give chase.

“If they follow us, we’re screwed, aren’t we?” said Bolan.

“It’ll make things tougher, right enough,” said Copeland. “Nothing we can’t overcome.”

Flint wasn’t listening closely. “I didn’t make a strategic decision on our SRT arrival point,” he said.

“That’ll be why we’re nowhere near anything, sir,” said Burner.

“On the next jump, we’re heading deeper into Landnir and I’d rather we used a conventional lightspeed activation instead of another mode 3 charge.”

The Nightfall could chain a maximum of three SRTs and each activation had an independent five-minute cooldown period. Entering hostile territory with one charge remaining and no clear idea how the enemy were able to detect the annihilator when it was phase shifted didn’t seem like a good idea. That left only one option – to wait it out and see if the Kilvar were able to track either the Nightfall or its exium module through lightspeed, while both were phase shifted.

“What just happened back there?” asked Maddox. “I thought we were supposed to be invisible.”

Flint had an idea, but he needed to run it by Lieutenant Burner first. He talked fast, his eyes jumping between his console and the feeds. “When the first enemy warship entered lightspeed, might it have detected us in the split-second during which it was in phase shift?”

“I think you’ve hit on the answer, sir,” said Burner. “The Kilvar were clever enough to detect our position, heading and velocity in that tiny window they had available. They passed that information on to the other members of their fleet and every time they entered an SRT, those warships were able to get a shot into our energy shield while they were phase shifted like us.”

“And when we altered course, their attacks missed,” said Larson.

Flint nodded. “Until their next ships activated SRTs and detected our new position. That’s a worrying level of coordination.”

“On the positive side, it’s going to be hard for the enemy to land enough shots to overcome our shield,” said Larson.

“I’m not enormously reassured, Commander,” said Flint. “The phase shift was our big advantage and already the Kilvar have a method to limit its effectiveness. Not only that, our surprise is gone. They know we’re here and they’re actively searching for us.”

“I’ve seen enough evidence to convince me the enemy can locate the exium module whether or not we’re phase shifted,” said Fredericks.

“I reckon we’ll see proof of that soon enough, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “I can’t shake the feeling those bastards are going to turn up any time now.”

“I’m sure you’re right, sir, and I’d give my eye teeth to know how they manage it.”

Halting the Nightfall a half-million kilometres from its mode 3 exit point, Flint watched the sensor feeds and waited. The cooldown on the first SRT hardware module wasn’t completed, but it wouldn’t be long.

“Let’s see what happens,” Flint said.

Two minutes passed during which the bridge crew were quiet.

“I’ve been thinking, sir,” said Burner, out of the blue. “I brought a couple of medals onboard with me. If I die and they get sent to my surviving relatives, will those medals still be out of phase?”

Flint had no idea if Burner was joking or not. He suspected the former. “Lieutenant Fredericks is the phase shift expert on this vessel. If you want answers, he’s got them.”

“I usually just pull them out of my ass, sir,” said Fredericks. “I can feel a couple up there right now.”

“Leave them in there,” said Copeland quickly.

“I don’t think Lieutenant Burner ever earned a medal, sir,” said Larson. “Unless they started giving them out for gross incompetence.”

“My drawer at home is full of those ones,” said Burner mildly, his eyes never leaving his console.

The crew fell silent again and tension rose within Flint. A little over five minutes had passed since he piloted the Nightfall through its SRT and that wasn’t nearly enough for him to be optimistic that he’d shaken off the enemy pursuit.

Ten seconds later, a Kilvar warship exited lightspeed not far from the Nightfall’s arrival point. Another followed and shortly after more came. This time, it wasn’t only eight enemy vessels. Now there were fifteen.

Any hope that phase shifting would foil the Kilvar faded completely, and Flint prepared himself for what he was certain would be a difficult and stressful foray into the Landnir solar system.

Chapter Fourteen

The newly arrived Kilvar warships began the same routine as last time. One-by-one, they vanished into lightspeed, hoping to detect the Nightfall. Flint didn’t give them the chance. He chose a mode 3 destination that was a few million kilometres from the planet Firatus and sent the annihilator into lightspeed.

Trying hard not to retch when the short journey was done, he checked his console. Everything was in order, though the sensors weren’t yet online.

“I would like someone to record how long it takes the Kilvar to follow us through our SRTs,” said Flint.

“I’m already on it, sir,” said Fredericks. “I need more data to produce any meaningful predictive analysis, but I’m sure you’ve already realised the Kilvar are good at what they’re doing.”

“I’m most interested to find out if they’re getting better at it,” said Flint. “If they require five or six minutes to follow us through an SRT, we should be able to keep ahead of them indefinitely, assuming we don’t screw up.”

“As soon as I have an idea on that, I’ll let you know, sir.”

“Sensors up,” said Burner. “Uh, the static is back.”

The static wasn’t bad enough to completely obscure the view of space, but it was worse than before the SRT.

“What’s the problem?” asked Flint.

“One second, sir.” Burner muttered something under his breath. “There!”

To Flint’s relief, the feed cleared up again, though the sensor arrays weren’t pointing at anything of interest.

“Is that going to keep happening?” asked Flint.

“It shouldn’t do, sir. I’ve figured out the cause.”

“In that case, you can help with the far scans,” said Becerra.

“Almost done with the nears,” said Garrett. “Finished. No hostiles.”

“Find the planet,” said Flint. “I want to know what the ingar-ternium reactor did to the place.”

“Firatus on the screen,” said Garrett a moment later. “Three-point-five million klicks from our position.”

Flint stared at the feed. The details looked sharp enough and the minor static didn’t interfere much. At first glance, Firatus was just another gas giant, with an 120,000-kilometre diameter, drab colours and a roiling surface. However, much of that surface was not moving – Flint guessed more than half of the visible side was utterly still, while the rest churned with upheaval.

“That’s definitely a stasis sphere,” said Garrett. “I’d estimate it’s almost as large as the planet itself.”

“I’d have thought something like that would cause major damage,” said Fredericks. “Everything in the stasis sphere will now be separated from everything outside – the planet might be effectively in two pieces.” He made a musing sound. “Though I guess that would come down to how gravity is affected through a stasis field. I seem to recall that back on Evia—"

“This is a discussion for later,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir.”

“Fars done,” Becerra confirmed. “No sign of Kilvar – yet.”

“Scan the stasis field,” said Flint. “I’d like to know if the reactor created total stasis or just slowed things down.”

“If the latter, we might be able to score a few cheap kills,” said Maddox. She laughed. “The cheaper the better when it comes to these Kilvar assholes.”

Flint had no intention of fighting fair either. If he could launch a few thousand hellburners into the stasis field and have them knock out a dozen Kilvar warships ten weeks from now when they finally reached their targets, he’d happily do so. He would also gladly test the destroyer cannons to find out how they were affected by slowed time. First, he needed targets.

“I’m bringing us in closer,” said Flint. “If we locate any Kilvar, I want to be in hellburner lock range.”

With the Kilvar tracking his warship, he didn’t hold back on the acceleration. The Nightfall raced towards the planet and its velocity gauge was soon beyond six thousand kilometres per second. With a start, Flint realised he’d stopped worrying about criticalities forming in the propulsion. During his time in command of the Firestorm, the exium module had given him constant worry – like the entire warship was a vast bomb and every time it entered superstress it was given a new, randomized timer on the fuse.

Here on the Nightfall, the progress at overcoming those technological barriers was real and the annihilator had been in full superstress for a considerable time. It was true that Lieutenant Fredericks had talked about anomalies, but they hadn’t developed into anything more.

“Ten thousand klicks per second, eleven thousand,” Flint said. “Still climbing.”

At twelve thousand, he backed off the controls and allowed the warship to coast. The power surge on his instrumentation dropped off, though the propulsion base power level had risen again. At some point, that was going to become a real issue. Maybe that time was now, and he just didn’t know it.

“Two hundred and twenty seconds until we’re in hellburner lock range,” said Larson. “The Terrus guns, the lightspeed missiles and the destroyer cannons will hit anything inside that sphere from this range.”

“I’d like to have the additional firepower from our fifty-four hellburner clusters ready to go, Commander.”

“I’ve located an enemy warship, sir!” said Becerra. “Correction: I’ve located more than one enemy warship. Ten, twelve…still counting.”

“Paydirt!” said Copeland.

“How much is the stasis effecting them?” asked Flint. “Is it total or partial?”

“It’s partial. I estimate the enemy vessels have been slowed to approximately one-thousandth of their pre-blast velocity.”

“Even reduced to a thousandth of their usual velocity a few of them might have escaped by now,” said Maddox.

“Only if they accelerated as soon as they exited lightspeed,” said Fredericks. “Does it matter anyway? We’ve got plenty of targets.”

“The count is at fifteen now, all at a low altitude – a few are only partially visible amongst the storms,” Becerra said. “Some of them are burning hot – these must be the ones we damaged during the engagement at Basalt. The rest are intact – they must have already been at the arrival point.”

“So the reactor created stasis and no explosion?” said Flint.

“That’s what the evidence suggests, sir.”

“I can’t deny I’m a little disappointed,” Flint confessed. “But at least we’ll have the satisfaction of taking out an entire fleet of easy targets.”

“It won’t be quite so easy, sir,” said Larson. “As soon as our missiles enter the stasis, they’ll be running in the same reduced time flow as the enemy. That’s means the Kilvar will have a chance to detect and launch their countermeasures.”

“I know, Commander. I was meaning that the enemy will find it much harder to land their shots on us.”

At that moment, Burner made a discovery which had Flint gritting his teeth in anger and frustration.

“Sir, you want to see this.”

A new feed appeared on the bulkhead screen and it showed an enormous, angular turret with a massive gun barrel, motionless in space about two million kilometres from the Nightfall and counter-clockwise around Firatus. Adjacent to the cannon was a huge, bulky warship, almost fifteen thousand metres in length and resembling an alliance superheavy lifter.

“You won’t have seen those before, Lieutenant Burner,” said Flint. “That cannon can generate a stasis negation beam and the vessel next to it is likely there as a power source. The Kilvar used these to penetrate the zero-time field around the Ancidium in the Evia system. It looks as if they’re preparing to extract their trapped warships.”

“I have some more bad news for you sir - I’ve located two more of those orbital platforms within the Firatus stasis sphere,” said Becerra. “They’re both deep enough in the clouds that I’d have missed them if I hadn’t already been watching those low-altitude warships.”

The presence of the orbital platforms increased the risk markedly. While their targeting systems would still be dealing with the Nightfall travelling at a comparative vastly greater velocity, their weapons were area-effect. A six-kilometre burst would be a lot harder to avoid than the much narrower particle beams fired by the Kilvar warships.

“I’m not sure we can take the chance,” said Flint. It was galling. “Particularly since the Takrivon vanished when we encountered those platforms at Raltus. Maybe they’re equipped with weapons we haven’t yet seen.”

“They’re all going to escape from stasis,” said Maddox bitterly. “And I was looking forward to shooting some fish in a barrel.”

Flint didn’t like it either and he racked his brains for a way to make an attack viable. The only method he could imagine was to bring the Nightfall around to the ten-million-kilometre maximum lock range for the destroyer cannons and then attack the stasis-held Kilvar with disintegration weapons. A destroyer cannon shot would make the orbital platforms vulnerable, and the annihilator could follow up with lightspeed missiles and Terrus-IV slugs, relying on distance to limit the chance of being detected.

Unfortunately, the plan had issues. Firstly, the Nightfall was only carrying a dozen lightspeed missiles in its magazines and those would probably only be enough for one of the orbital platforms. Besides, those lightspeed missiles might come in useful later against a more active opponent. Even if Flint decided to fire them all, he’d still have to make extended use of the destroyer cannons and the Terrus-IV cannons, and with so many enemy vessels tracking the exium module, he didn’t want to be out in the open for any longer than necessary. It was already touch and go if any attack was wise, given that the pursuing warships were likely to exit mode 3 sometime soon, and the Nightfall’s phase shift had a five-minute cooldown.

Unaccustomed to indecision, Flint swore as he weighed up the options.

“Kilvar warship detected two million klicks off our stern,” said Garrett. “That’s only three minutes after our SRT.”

“Damnit,” said Flint. “Maybe that one got lucky.”

“Scanning for others,” said Garrett. “It’s still just the one.”

“We could enter normal phase, disintegrate that ship and then start firing into the stasis field,” said Maddox.

Flint briefly felt the tugging lure of oblivion – to pit himself and his warship against the odds and find out if he had it in him to win. Rational thought prevailed.

“That’s not happening, Lieutenant.” It was hard to keep the disappointment from his voice. “We can’t take the chance.”

“We dodged a bullet, I reckon,” said Fredericks.

“Whoa, crap!” said Burner. “Something just hit that stasis cannon!”

Flint’s eyes jumped to the sensor feed which was locked on the turret and its accompanying battery spaceship. The cannon was almost completely gone and, if he hadn’t known what the ragged lump of crumbling wreckage had once been, Flint would never have guessed.

While his brain was catching up, the entire front section of the battery ship exploded into a smear of grey particles. An immense object – a warship - sped into view and its appearance left Flint absolutely dumbfounded. This vessel was twelve-sided, approximately eighteen thousand metres along its longest axes and clad in armour of near-black. From each face protruded a gun.

“The Lavorix dodecahedron,” said Flint.

The newly appeared warship was one he could never forget. Having first seen it in the Ancidium’s holding bay, Flint had witnessed its shocking destructive capabilities when it had taken out an entire Kilvar fleet with almost contemptuous ease.

“What’s it doing here?” asked Garrett.

A second cannon discharge hit the ruin of the battery ship and when the explosion of particles thinned, Flint saw that little remained of the huge vessel. The Lavorix warship burst through the cloud, tumbling as it went.

“It’s kicking ass, that’s what it’s doing,” said Fredericks.

“We’re definitely friends with that thing, right?” said Copeland. This was the first time she’d seen the dodecahedron and he sounded understandably nervous.

“It didn’t kill us before,” said Flint. “And I guess it won’t do so this time.”

“I hope you’re certain about that, sir,” said Burner. “It’s banking in our direction.”

“We’re still phase shifted,” said Garrett. “That probably means we’re safe even if the Lavorix have changed their minds about the alliance.”

Flint had a good idea what was about to happen, and he kept his eyes on the feeds. The lone Kilvar warship which had followed the Nightfall by SRT erupted into an explosion of dust. A thousand metres of its stern escaped the disintegration and the debris spun away along its previous course.

Once again, the dodecahedron banked, this time onto a course which would take it above the stasis sphere.

“Keep watching those Kilvar warships,” said Flint.

“One of the orbital platforms just had a big chunk taken out of it,” said Becerra. “The dust is expanding very slowly. And now a second big chunk.”

“At fifty klicks long and twenty wide, it’s going to take plenty of cannon shots to destroy that platform completely,” said Maddox. “But it’s happening.”

“This is a real cat-among-pigeons development,” said Larson. “I can hardly believe it.”

Flint felt the same and he watched as the tumbling dodecahedron fired twice more into the orbital platform, each discharge reducing an eight-thousand-metre sphere of alloy and ternium into a gradually blossoming explosion of powder. It was both fascinating and frightening to watch.

“Another couple of shots and that platform will break up,” said Garrett. “Then onto the next one.”

“The Lavorix don’t know we’re here,” Flint said. “We should enter normal phase and make contact.”

“Couldn’t we just sit back and enjoy the show, sir?” asked Maddox. “Or maybe end our phase shift once the fireworks are over?”

“This is our first opportunity to learn exactly how the Lavorix intend dealing with the alliance,” said Flint. “They’ve already agreed to stop killing us, but we need to find out if they’ll fight with us. If we wait too long, they could enter lightspeed and we might never see them again.”

“We’ll stand a much greater chance against the Kilvar if the Lavorix actively assist us, rather than just doing their own thing,” said Larson.

From his indecision not long ago, Flint knew with certainty that he should act at once. “We’re leaving phase shift,” he said. “As soon as we’re in normal phase, contact the Lavorix warship. Commander Larson, Lieutenant Maddox – hold our destroyer cannon shots for any Kilvar who followed us through our last SRT.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Flint entered the phase shift cancel instruction into his console, noticing as he did so how much the base engine output level had risen since he’d last looked.

“Done,” he said.

“Scanning for comms receptors,” said Burner. “None found. Sir, if the Lavorix are running silent, we may not be able to contact them.”

“I already thought about that, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Once they have us on their sensors, they’ll open a receptor.”

The Nightfall was travelling at a much higher velocity than the dodecahedron and the distance between the two vessels wasn’t much more than a million kilometres. Flint adjusted course so the annihilator was directly following the much larger spacecraft. He hoped the Lavorix would detect the Nightfall quickly.

“The dodecahedron is attacking the second orbital platform, sir,” said Garrett. “Two hits so far and none on the smaller warships in the stasis sphere.”

“The Lavorix are dealing with the primary targets first,” said Flint. “As they should do.”

“No sign of any other Kilvar behind us,” said Burner. “I wonder if they’ve heard about this attack and they’re staying out of the way until they can muster a full response.”

“All we need is a few minutes,” said Flint. The phase shift cooldown timer had barely started, so another shift wouldn’t be an option for a while. Should an emergency exit from Landnir become necessary, it would have to happen by SRT.

“Sir, I’ve detected a comms receptor on the Lavorix warship!” said Burner. “I have requested a channel.” He almost jumped out of his seat. “Channel request accepted!”

“Whoever you’ve got, put them on open!” said Flint, his own voice climbing.

A voice emerged from the speakers, a mixture of clicks and whispers, translated by the comms system language module into words which Flint could only understand with difficulty.

“Unknown alliance warship. This is Tol-Ga-Eld, First of the Terragar. You are in grave danger. This is the Kilvar Fifth Seeking. The Vilekron will be near.”

The words didn’t make much sense to Flint, yet hearing them instilled him with an unexpected fear, as if the razor talons of death had slid deep into his yielding innards. He felt, with a sudden and absolute certainty, that this was a mission upon which everything hinged, yet one which had a chance of success far closer to zero than any which had come before it.

Chapter Fifteen

Setting his fears aside, Flint responded. “Greetings. I am Captain William Flint of the Nightfall. Is the Terragar the name of your warship?”

“It is the seventh Law of Ancidium,” said Tol-Ga-Eld. “It cannot defeat the Vilekron.”

“I don’t understand,” said Flint, his eyes on the sensor feeds. The Terragar was almost finished with the second orbital platform. Another cannon shot would be enough and after that, only the Kilvar warships were left. “What is the Vilekron? What is the Fifth Seeking?”

“The Vilekron leads the Fifth Seeking,” said Tol-Ga-Eld, his answer infuriatingly low on details.

“We should work together,” said Flint. “The Nightfall is equipped with exium and has already destroyed several Kilvar vessels.”

“I am aware of the exium,” said the Lavorix. “You were foolish to bring it here.”

“How so?” asked Flint.

“You were accompanied,” said Tol-Ga-Eld. It was another exasperating response.

“Yes,” said Flint. “A second ship came with us to Landnir.”

“It was captured by the Vilekron. Was it also carrying exium?”

Flint couldn’t see a benefit in covering up the truth. “Yes,” he said.

“Then the Kilvar have what they need. Your mission to this solar system has failed, Captain Flint. The repercussions will reach far into the universe.”

“Explain!” Flint demanded. “What is the Vilekron and where is it? If the Takrivon was captured, I will free it!”

Tol-Ga-Eld made a sound like a soft wind blowing through a dark forest. It was peculiarly melancholy and Flint realised it was laughter.

“The Vilekron is beyond us, human. That and others like it are what drove the Ancidium into flight. Lavorix technology is not yet adequate to challenge our enemies.”

Suddenly, the blue light of the Terragar’s energy shield appeared in a perfect sphere around the vessel. Where the attack had come from, Flint had no idea. Instinctively, he reduced the Nightfall’s velocity so that it was no longer travelling faster than the Lavorix warship and the distance between the two increased. Flint certainly didn’t want to commit until he knew what was happening - the Lavorix weren’t allies such that he’d throw the Nightfall straight into combat alongside them.

“You are attacked,” said Flint.

“The Vilekron is here.”

“I haven’t located it on the sensors, sir,” said Burner, before Flint could ask the question.

“The Terragar has begun targeting the Kilvar warships in the stasis field,” said Becerra. “It has disintegrated two already. There is no deviation in the Lavorix warship’s vector.”

“You do not seem overly concerned by the Vilekron, Tol-Ga-Eld,” said Flint.

“This is the seventh Law of Ancidium, human and its shield will not crumble so easily!” declared the Lavorix. Despite the imperfections of the language module, pride was evident in the alien’s voice. “The Terragar will destroy this trapped fleet and then will depart.”

“What about the Takrivon?” asked Flint. “And what about its exium module?”

“This battle is lost, human, and perhaps the war as well. However, I do not know the future and I will not sacrifice my warship without good cause.”

“Is this not a good cause?” asked Flint. “The Lavorix were created to fight the Kilvar. What else will you do?”

“Sacrifice may be required when a chance of success exists, Captain Flint. That time is not now. Leave before the Vilekron finds you, or you will die.”

“Sir, three Kilvar warships have appeared on the rear sensors,” said Becerra. “They’re near our SRT emergence point.”

“They didn’t stop following us just because the Terragar came,” said Larson.

“We have more than two minutes on the phase shift cooldown, sir,” said Fredericks.

“Three more Kilvar arrived at the same place as the others,” said Becerra.

“Locate the Vilekron!” said Flint. He knew instinctively that Tol-Ga-Eld was being truthful about the threat posed by the Kilvar command vessel. It made him eager to see this spaceship with his own eyes.

“Still no sign of it, sir,” said Burner.

“I recommend we execute an immediate SRT,” said Larson. “We’re dealing with too many unknowns.”

She was right and Flint made no effort to convince himself otherwise. Visible on one of the feeds, the Terragar’s energy shield was steadily darkening as the power source sustaining it became unable to cope with the inbound attacks. The channel to the Lavorix ship was still open.

“Tol-Ga-Eld, you cannot flee this place. Too much is at stake,” said Flint.

“The fault of that belongs with your alliance, Captain Flint. You brought the exium here and you allowed it to fall into the Kilvar’s possession.”

“I’m unable to locate the Vilekron,” said Burner in the background. “The enemy warship is either beyond the cusp of Firatus, deep within the gas giant, or at too great a range for easy detection.”

It was time to leave. The Terragar was evidently such a prize that the Vilekron was concentrating solely on bringing down its energy shield. Perhaps the Kilvar command ship hadn’t yet detected the Nightfall, though Flint wasn’t too hopeful.

“Five new arrivals from SRTs, sir,” said Becerra.

When Flint had first brought the Nightfall to Firatus and detected the Kilvar fleet trapped in stasis, he’d wanted to mete out some deserved punishment to his foes. Things had escalated rapidly to a level far above anything he could have imagined. Now, the pressure on the Nightfall was far too great.

“Mode 3 it is,” said Flint. He tapped the edge of the tactical screen to set a maximum duration SRT. Delaying no longer, he sent the annihilator into lightspeed, keeping his finger on the activation button until he felt the warship re-enter local space. Straightaway, he thrust the controls to the ends of their guide slots, whereupon he felt the crushing sensation of acceleration and heard the comforting inhalation of the superstressed propulsion.

“Sensors coming up,” said Burner, a rough edge to his voice after the stacked transitions.

“What are your plans, sir?” asked Larson.

“I’m not abandoning this mission,” said Flint. “Not a chance.”

“I meant what are your plans to recover that exium module?”

Flint spared Larson a glance. “You didn’t think I was giving up,” he said.

“Not for a moment, sir.”

“The focus has changed, that’s all.”

“Sensors online!” yelled Burner, too loudly for Flint’s pounding head.

“What’ve we got?” asked Flint.

He waited – without much patience – for his sensor team to complete the area scans. The nears and fars came back clear, though Flint was sure they wouldn’t stay that way for long. Once the Nightfall’s velocity gauge touched on twelve thousand kilometres per second, he released the controls and let it coast while he thought of how to proceed.

“Run a sweep for the Terragar,” he ordered. “I want to know if the Lavorix took the exit.”

“No visible receptors, sir,” said Garrett.

“They ran – I don’t call that impressive,” said Copeland.

Flint was ambivalent on the matter. He’d have preferred the Terragar to stick around, but Tol-Ga-Eld was convinced the battle was lost. Had Flint been in the same situation, he’d have probably looked after his own warship and crew rather than commit to a fight with an opponent he believed was undefeatable.

“Lieutenant Becerra, contact base again. Keep them updated.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that without reminders.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s next, sir?” asked Maddox. “If we’re continuing the mission, we should think about how to shake off our pursuers.”

“Maybe we could chain together our last two SRTs,” suggested Larson. “If the Kilvar take longer than our cooldown to locate us and follow, then we’ll gradually pull out a lead over them.”

“Which is similar to what we did when we ran into the Galactar during the Lavorix wars, sir,” said Burner. “That warship could detect lightspeed tunnels and we found that by entering a lightspeed journey of a certain duration, the Galactar was not able to track us quickly enough to catch up.”

“We escaped eventually,” said Larson.

“It wasn’t much fun though,” said Burner. “And probably some of it was down to luck.”

“I’ll take all the good luck I’m given, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “However, I prefer to have a backup plan in case the scales of fortune are tipping the wrong way.”

“I think it’ll be a close-run thing whether chain SRTs will give us any kind of permanent lead, sir,” said Fredericks. “I reckon the enemy are taking a little over five minutes to follow us – except for that last Kilvar ship which wasn’t much over three. After that, they have the overheads of sensor blindness and then they have to locate us.”

“Those five minutes are closer to six,” said Larson. “Maybe more.”

“That’s right, Commander. The trouble is, we don’t know if the Kilvar are using our SRT arrival positions as waypoints – in which case, what they’re effectively doing is joining the dots in the hope of eventually catching up, and, if so, chain SRTs will certainly increase our lead if we use them wisely.”

“You think the method won’t work,” said Garrett. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“The Kilvar are following the Nightfall’s exium module, not our lightspeed tunnels,” said Fredericks. “If we make it a couple of jumps ahead, they’ll just skip the intervening waypoint and come straight for our most recent position.”

“I think you’ve hit the nail on the head, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Not that I like it much.”

“So we’ll never be more than a single SRT ahead of our pursuers,” said Garrett. “That sucks for us.”

“And we have no idea what this Vilekron warship is capable of,” said Flint. “Tol-Ga-Eld didn’t give anything away beyond telling us it was an impossible opponent.”

“It would have been nice to have caught a look at it, and not just because I like to see whatever is trying to kill me,” said Fredericks. “We could have run some hull scans, which may have given us a few clues about what to expect.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Burner. “As far as the sensors reported, the Terragar didn’t even attempt a response to the Vilekron attacks. The only guns the Lavorix ship fired were those aimed at Firatus.”

“Tol-Ga-Eld gave the impression he intended to soak the Kilvar attacks and nothing more,” said Flint. “As if his destroyer cannons would have no effect on the Vilekron.”

“Adding everything up, I wonder if the Kilvar ship was phase shifted, sir,” said Burner. “If it turned up after we returned to normal phase, our sensors wouldn’t have located it.”

Flint nodded slowly. It was entirely possibly the Vilekron had simply been bombarding the Terragar from ten million kilometres, but Burner’s suggestion had him thinking. “Tol-Ga-Eld said the Kilvar had several vessels like the Vilekron and it was these which turned the tide of their war with the Lavorix.”

“Having seen what the Terragar and Ixidar are capable of, the Kilvar must have come up with something special,” said Fredericks.

“Phase shifting would do it,” said Flint.

The timer on his console indicated nearly three minutes had passed since the last SRT. Soon, he’d be required to activate another one, to keep ahead of the enemy. To his surprise, Flint realised he’d already adapted to circumstance. In order to survive, the Nightfall would have to keep entering lightspeed until he thought of a plan that would free the Takrivon. The realist in Flint wondered if he’d set the bar too high. Maybe the best this mission could now accomplish was the discovery of intel for the alliance to use later.

That same realist also suggested that maybe – just maybe – the Takrivon’s crew were already dead and that he wouldn’t be helping them escape so much as he’d be seeking to destroy the exium module in a warship which the Kilvar had already turned into a coffin. The thoughts were uncomfortable and Flint hated that they might be true.

“Let’s assume the Kilvar are phase shifted,” said Fredericks. “They were still able to fire their weapons into normal phase and that’s where their big advantage lies. The Lavorix either haven’t figured out how to detect phase shifted vessels, or they don’t have the tech to shoot back. We know they can’t phase shift their own warships, else they’d have done it by now.”

Flint cast his mind back to the snippets provided by Tol-Ga-Eld and he found nothing to suggest which – if any – of Frederick’s ideas was correct. “I feel we missed an opportunity,” he said. “The Nightfall can enter phase shift and even if our weapons can’t fire into a different phase, we could perhaps have offered something to the Lavorix.”

“A tech share?” asked Maddox.

“Out here at Landnir when we’re being chased by potentially huge numbers of Kilvar probably isn’t the best place for it,” said Flint dryly. “I was thinking more about a sharing of ideas. Lieutenant Burner already figured out how to make our sensors work when we’re phase shifted. That’s damned useful, and who’s to say we won’t come up with something else?”

“A Kilvar warship exited lightspeed close to our last SRT arrival point, sir,” said Garrett.

“It took them less than four minutes to locate us,” said Fredericks.

The persistence of his enemy brought a surge of anger in Flint. “They say the early bird catches the worm.” He rotated the Nightfall about its vertical axis and then made some additional adjustments to the controls, bringing the Kilvar warship into the destroyer cannon’s firing arc. “Commander Larson, show those scumbags what happens to the first in line.”

“Yes, sir. Destroyer cannon locked and fired.”

The thumping bass of expulsion came and went and the Kilvar warship disappeared from the sensors. It was a gratifying sight and Flint considered giving the next arrival the same treatment.

“Let’s hold onto the second cannon charge and get out of here,” he said, choosing his next SRT destination, this one being on the opposite fringe of the Landnir system.

“Three more Kilvar appeared on the sensors,” said Garrett.

“They’re getting better at following us, sir,” said Fredericks. “Their catchup times are definitely trending downwards.”

“Entering SRT,” said Flint.

He clenched his teeth and pressed the button on the control bar. The double transition completed and at the end of it, the Nightfall was once more alone. When the fog cleared from his brain, Flint set his mind to thinking about what the hell he was going to do to pull out a good result from this one.

Chapter Sixteen

As he’d done on previous occasions, Flint put the Nightfall into a period of high and sustained acceleration, to leave the SRT arrival place far behind. Xanto – Landnir’s eleventh planet – was closest at a few billion kilometres and it was hardly more than a gleaming speck on the sensor arrays. The vast star around which it orbited was smaller still, a pinpoint of white, far away. Although his mind was occupied with many thoughts, the sight of it made Flint shiver with the knowledge of his own insignificance.

“Here’s what I want,” he said, drawing his eyes away from the feed. “Lieutenant Garrett, work out a route between the planets. We’re going to scan each for an enemy presence and then SRT to the next location.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll work out a few combinations for you to look at,” said Garrett.

“Are we going to activate phase shift, sir?” asked Larson.

The cooldown timer was at zero, so the Nightfall could change phase at any time. “I’ll think on it, Commander,” said Flint. “The Kilvar can follow us anyway, so maybe we should stay nimble and keep ahead of them that way. If we keep switching phase, we’ll shorten the active life of this warship.”

“I wish I had something concrete to tell you about that, sir,” said Fredericks. “The engine base power might keep climbing without causing us any problems.”

“Eventually, something’s going to go wrong. You already said as much, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

Flint moved on. “Next up, I want to know if there’s anything we can do to adjust our onboard systems so they will operate both in and out of phase at the same time or with minimal effort to switch them over. Lieutenant Burner – if you can make it so that when we’re in normal phase our sensors will detect anything in phase shift, that would be an excellent start. If we run into the Terragar again, maybe the Lavorix can put the knowledge to good use against the Vilekron.”

“Are we staying on the defensive, sir?” asked Larson.

“I take it that doesn’t suit you, Commander?”

“If we’re going to recover the Takrivon, we’ll need to take risks.”

Flint smiled. “I know. If I’m being honest, that’s a mountain I haven’t thought how to climb.”

“We need to know more about the Vilekron,” said Larson. “You’re hoping to learn something while we’re scouting the planets.”

“I don’t normally like being reactive,” said Flint. “And I’m sure the enemy flagship is already hunting us down. Eventually, we’re going to run into trouble we can’t handle.”

“What’s this Fifth Seeking that Tol-Ga-Eld was talking about?” asked Maddox. “He said the Vilekron was in command of it.”

It was another question which Flint hadn’t spent too long thinking about. However, in this instance, the answer appeared self-evident. “It sounds as if the Kilvar forces are divided into these different seekings, each of which hunts for life to draw their ascendancy nearer. Maybe they’re independent, or maybe they aren’t.”

“And the Fifth Seeking is here at Landnir,” said Fredericks. “I wonder how many others there are and where they’re located.”

“They’re not here,” said Flint, hoping his confidence wasn’t misplaced. “The entity on the Ancidium told Lieutenant Vance that the Kilvar are fighting on many fronts. To me, that suggests other species than just the Lavorix. Species we haven’t yet encountered.”

“It’s a big universe,” said Fredericks. “I sometimes wish it were a little bit smaller and contained fewer things that wanted to kill me.”

“With every new discovery, it’s like I know less rather than more,” said Flint.

“The Kilvar are preparing for something bigger than an attack on a single planet,” said Larson. “I have a feeling we’ve only seen a fraction of the resources they’ve brought here to Landnir.”

“That’s what we’re scouting for,” said Flint. He had the same fears as Larson and was still coming to terms with the fact that he’d bitten off considerably more than he could chew. The loss of the Takrivon was the biggest burden and it was about more than just the exium module it was carrying - Flint felt a strong personal obligation towards Captain Vazox. Had the roles been reversed, the Daklan would have done everything to rescue the Nightfall.

Again came the mocking voice in his head, reminding him this might no longer be about rescue so much as it was about denying the Kilvar access to the Takrivon’s exium module. Anger came again and drowned out the voice.

“Sir, I have a couple of preliminary scouting routes for you,” said Garrett. “I’ve added them as overlays onto the tactical.”

Flint gave them his attention. Each of the suggestions involved short range transits from planet to planet, followed by five minutes of scanning from twenty-five million kilometres while the Nightfall travelled at high velocity. The only difference was the order in which they visited the planets.

“If we’re phase shifted, we can take a bit more time scanning, sir,” said Garrett. “I know the Kilvar can detect us anyway, but they aren’t so quick as when we’re visible on their sensors.”

“We’ll go Lofor to Gimbeze and then Valind,” said Flint. “Planets four, five and eight, skipping the ones we’ve already seen.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty more to discover on Firatus and Raltus, sir,” said Maddox.

“No doubt you’re right, Lieutenant. Let’s try some fresh pastures before we revisit the old.” Flint twisted in his seat. “Lieutenant Burner, how are you getting on with the sensors? Can we detect phase shifted warships yet?”

“I’m still working on it, sir.”

“Isn’t a case of doing what you did before, but in reverse?” asked Maddox.

“Not exactly, Lieutenant,” said Burner, not looking up.

“Is it a solvable problem?” asked Flint.

“Yes, sir, I’m sure it is. I’ll spare you the details of why it’s taking so long, but I might have something up and running soon.”

“We’re approaching three minutes since our last SRT,” said Fredericks.

“Let’s head to Lofor,” Flint said. “And we’re going phase shifted.”

“I need us to be in normal phase, sir,” said Burner, casually throwing a spanner in the works. “It’s the only way I can accurately test if the sensor adjustments I’m making will detect objects in a different phase.”

“In that case, we’ll stay in normal phase for as long as possible,” said Flint. “You don’t have forever, Lieutenant.”

“I won’t need forever, sir.”

“I’ll wait for the first Kilvar to arrive at our last SRT exit location,” said Flint. He touched his next mode 3 destination point in preparation. “Then we’ll depart.”

“Are we picking off the first enemy ship again, sir?” asked Larson.

“Not this time, Commander. If we end up in hot water at the end of our next jump, I’d rather we had both barrels loaded.”

“We’re nearly at four minutes, sir,” said Fredericks.

“Still nothing on the sensors.”

Flint’s internal alarm bells started ringing. “Something feels wrong,” he said, resting his hands on the control bars, his thumb moving towards the SRT activation button.

Before he could send the Nightfall into lightspeed, the annihilator was hit by a colossal blast from an energy weapon fired by an unseen opponent. The energy shield absorbed the attack, but it darkened into the deepest of blues, and the spike Flint saw on his console was the biggest since the mission began.

“Shit, the Vilekron,” he said, pressing down hard on the SRT button.

The Nightfall entered lightspeed for a split second, emerging into sensor blindness. Flint didn’t wait and gave the annihilator maximum acceleration. The spike on his console was gone, but the damage was done – the engine base level had taken a step upwards and, when he listened, Flint thought he could hear a high-pitched whining to go alongside the inhalation of superstress. Whatever the Kilvar warship had fired, he didn’t want to take another shot from it.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, has that energy weapon done any lasting damage?” asked Flint. His head was pounding again, like each SRT was wearing him down a little more.

“Checking, sir. First indications are our energy shield fully soaked the blast the same way it soaked everything else that’s hit us.”

“Sensors coming up,” said Burner.

“Find the planet and do it quickly,” said Flint. The velocity gauge was climbing still and he wasn’t yet ready to let the Nightfall coast. “We shouldn’t be near enough for easy detection, but I don’t want one of those orbital platforms getting a lucky spot.”

“Sensors now up and starting the near scans,” said Burner.

“I’ve got the fars,” said Garrett.

“Running a scan for Lofor,” said Becerra. “The planet’s orbital track position data is in our star charts, so it shouldn’t take long. Got it! Coming up on the screen, sir.”

“Mountains, chasms, rocks,” said Flint. “If the Kilvar have a presence, it should be easy enough to find.”

“What about the Vilekron, sir?” asked Larson. “We can’t see it, but it’s definitely on our trail.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Commander,” said Flint. “There’s plenty to juggle.”

“Sir, as I thought – the Vilekron’s attack didn’t cause any specific harm to our hardware,” said Fredericks. “But it did increase the engine base level as I’m sure you’ve already noticed.”

Flint asked the question. “How many of those attacks will our energy shield withstand, Lieutenant? Even when our sensors are able to see from normal phase to out of phase it’s likely we’ll suffer additional attacks once the Vilekron locates us. I have a feeling the range on its weapons is considerable.”

“The short answer is that we can absorb the enemy’s attacks until either the exium module fails or our propulsion goes critical,” said Fredericks. “Which one of those is the most likely, I can’t tell you.”

It wasn’t what Flint wanted to hear, though it was no surprise. “Do we have any way to determine how long the Vilekron will take to discover our new location after each lightspeed jump?”

“Guessing’s easy, sir, so I’m going to offer you one,” said Burner. “I reckon the Kilvar’s pursuit of us is limited by their hardware. It’s probable their sensors are tuned to detect a property of the exium and an extensive sweep will require both time and processing power.”

“And the Vilekron is likely packing far more sensor arrays and way more processing cores than the other Kilvar vessels,” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. Improvements are unlikely to be linear, so I wouldn’t necessarily expect the Vilekron to locate us in thirty seconds – and we’d be dead by now if it could – but I’m sure it’ll be significantly faster than anything we’ve run into so far.”

Again, the news was in line with Flint’s expectations and he cursed inwardly. The smaller Kilvar warships had been enough of a threat already and now they’d taken a back seat to a vastly more potent force.

“Time to coast,” he said, pulling the control bars towards him. The Nightfall was at twelve thousand kilometres per second – taking it higher increased the power draw exponent too much and it didn’t seem worthwhile right at this moment.

“Fars done,” said Garrett. “Nothing found.”

“I’m scanning the planet, sir,” said Becerra. “We’re at twenty million klicks, so it’s going to take some time.”

“I’ll help out,” said Garrett.

“Lieutenant Burner, I need results with those sensors,” said Flint. “I doubt it matters to the Vilekron whether we’re phase shifted or not, but if we can make it harder for all the other Kilvar, that would help us immensely.”

“The sooner we’re phase shifted, the better,” said Larson.

“Done!” said Burner. He sounded more excited than relieved. “Now, I can switch the sensors freely between detection states.”

“How about allowing us to see in both states at the same time?” asked Flint.

“Yes and no, sir. I’ll assign some of the arrays to phase shift and keep the others on standard operation. You won’t be getting back the use of those six obliterator cores any time soon.”

“I’d already counted them as gone, Lieutenant,” Flint lied. He was pleased that Burner had overcome the technical limitations and expanded the sensors’ capabilities, but he’d hoped a few efficiency gains might come at the same time. “I want to activate the phase shift immediately.”

“Go ahead, sir. I don’t need to do any more testing.”

With relief, Flint sent the Nightfall into phase shift. The sensors were briefly covered with static and then they cleared.

“Keep a close watch for the Vilekron,” said Flint. “The moment it appears, I want to know about it.”

“How are you planning to handle this, sir?” asked Larson.

Flint smiled thinly. “You think I’m winging it, Commander?”

“Sometimes it’s the only way.” Larson lowered her voice. “This might be a step too far, sir. If we scout this system and return to base with solid intel on the Kilvar numbers and capabilities, we’ll have done enough.”

“You don’t look like an officer who settles for enough, Commander.”

“I’m not, sir. And kicking the can down the road was never my thing either.”

Larson’s expression softened and Flint realised she’d needed to convince herself that this was an all-or-nothing situation.

“We’ll scout and we’ll find a way to handle the Vilekron, Commander,” said Flint. “I’m determined we’re going to beat the Kilvar and that starts here at Landnir.”

“Yes, sir,” said Larson.

No sooner had she spoken, than Lieutenant Becerra called out urgently.

“I’ve located a Kilvar facility on Lofor, sir. It’s only part visible from our position.”

Becerra’s voice had an edge to it, making Flint sure he wasn’t going to like whatever it was she’d found. He turned his gaze to the sensor feeds and, near Lofor’s northern cusp, he could see three objects, each a huge cylinder, jutting from the surface. When he looked closer, Flint saw other cylinders, almost out of sight over the planet’s curvature.

“Do they form a ring?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” said Becerra. “A perfect circle with a diameter of fifty klicks.”

“Those cylinders look exactly like tenixite converters,” said Larson, her voice cold with anger. “They convert ternium ore into energy.”

“Which is how the Lavorix destroyed planet Fortune,” said Flint. He was familiar with the tech.

“Yes, sir.” Larson’s eyes were narrowed. “Maybe the tenixite conversion energy can be put to different uses.”

“Such as?” Flint asked.

Larson shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. To create a gateway, perhaps – a way to travel instantly from one place to another. Maybe the Kilvar Fifth Seeking isn’t all here yet.”

“Or maybe it is and the enemy want to leave the option open for others to follow,” said Flint.

“The Kilvar are close to ascendency,” said Larson. “If they believe humanity and the Daklan are populous enough, they might decide we’re the softest targets out of all the species they’re fighting.”

“If that’s the case, they’ll send the rest of their forces into alliance territory,” said Flint. “They’ll commit every warship they have available and there’s no way in hell we’re ready to handle that.”

“We’re not even ready for the Fifth Seeking alone,” said Fredericks. “I checked the scan data of Lofor, and there’re traces of tenixite within its crust.”

A wave of fury threatened to drag Flint under. He was in command of the most capable warship in the alliance fleet, yet against the Kilvar, it wasn’t nearly enough. This mission was turning up a mountain of crap. Worse, that mountain was growing ever higher and soon the top would be out of sight.

The weight of responsibility might have crushed Flint. Instead, his anger gave him strength enough to hold firm and he clenched his jaw tightly while his brain sought a way – any way – to turn the mission into a success.

“Let’s go and check out those cylinders,” he said.

“We’re twenty-five minutes from Lofor on the sub-lights,” said Larson.

“That’s why we’re heading there by SRT,” said Flint. He chose a destination two million kilometres from the planet and directly above the cylinder ring. The Nightfall’s first SRT hardware module hadn’t yet completed its cooldown and if he activated the second, only a single mode 3 jump would be left available. Time – always valuable – had become the greatest of luxuries and one which Flint was not prepared to squander. His thumb hovered over the lightspeed activation button.

“Something just exited lightspeed about six million klicks from our position, sir,” said Burner. “I recommend we get the hell away from here.”

While Burner had not been specific on exactly what he meant by something, Flint didn’t need to see an enhancement of the faraway object which had appeared on one of the rear feeds. The Vilekron had arrived from its own lightspeed jump and it was massive.

Readying himself for the pain, Flint sent the Nightfall into lightspeed.

Chapter Seventeen

Coming so soon after the last, this SRT would likely have been especially unpleasant, had Flint’s anger not helped him cope. He gave the Nightfall half acceleration and watched the sensor feeds expectantly.

“Sensors up,” said Burner. “Near scans underway.”

“Running the fars,” said Garrett.

“I’ve got a lock on the planet,” said Becerra. “Searching for the facility.”

“Can you enhance the feed recording?” asked Flint. He wanted to know what the Vilekron looked like - not only to assuage his own curiosity, but to see if its design offered any clues as to its other capabilities.

“The recording will enhance, sir,” said Burner. “Not so much as a live feed, but I should be able to bring the enemy ship into focus.”

“Do it when you can,” said Flint, his tone making it obvious he meant do it soon. “Lieutenant Fredericks, assuming that was the Vilekron, it didn’t take long to find us.”

“No, sir, it didn’t. However, you’ll notice it missed our arrival place by six million klicks, which, all things considered is a shitty result. It makes me think the Kilvar obtained an approximation of our position and then hit their SRT button in the hope they’d end up in our front room.”

“I’d like to say that smacks of desperation,” said Flint. He pursed his lips and thought about what he’d just said. “Maybe this facility on Lofor is especially important to them.”

“Important enough that they took a gamble in the hope of intercepting us early,” said Maddox.

“Maybe,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Becerra, have you located our target?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “It’s on the screen.”

The Kilvar facility was – to the naked eye - no more sophisticated than it had appeared from twenty million kilometres, being a circle of eight vast, near-black cylinders installed on the planet’s surface. Each cylinder was six thousand metres in height and with a two-thousand-metre diameter. Nothing lay between them other than the grey stone of Lofor.

The cylinders weren’t the only objects of interest on the planet. Becerra had also located a broad-beamed spaceship at a low altitude and no more than fifty kilometres from the edge of the ring. From appearance, this vessel was a lifter and, given the potential volume of its cargo hold, Flint guessed it alone could have brought all eight of the cylinders to this place. Another fifty kilometres from the lifter, a fleet of ten Kilvar diamond warships hung motionless just above the planet’s thin atmosphere of nitrogen and carbon dioxide.

“I’m picking up some crazy output readings from those cylinders, sir,” said Fredericks. “They’re high but steady, which makes me think they’re warmed up for something.”

“Are they definitely tenixite converters?” asked Larson. “Last ones I saw made holes in the planet’s surface every time they fired a depletion burst.”

“I saw the converter we had on the Ivisto base before the Lavorix came and incinerated the place, Commander,” said Fredericks. “What we’re seeing on Lofor is the same tech.”

“I wonder where the tenixite converters originated if both the Lavorix and Kilvar were building them,” said Larson.

“There’s a lot of history between those two species that we’ll probably never learn, ma’am,” said Fredericks.

“I’m sure,” said Larson.

“Does that mean those cylinders down there are definitely weapons?” Flint asked.

“No, sir,” said Fredericks. “It just means they can convert the tenixite in Lofor’s surface into usable power. And, like we’ve discussed, the Kilvar are here to drain our life energy, so I can’t imagine they’ll start turning our planets into dust.”

“I’ve finished the image enhancement on the recorded feed,” said Burner. “It’s on the screen for you, sir.” He cleared his throat. “Jo – sorry, Commander Larson - you’re not going to believe it.”

“Oh crap,” said Larson. “It looks like the Galactar.”

“It’s not exactly the same, but it’s similar,” said Burner. “Very similar and bigger.”

Flint’s eyes were on the enhanced feed and there he saw a warship made up from cuboids and cylinders in different sizes and proportions, fused together or linked by enormous struts. The overall result was a bulky vessel that looked as if it had been modified over the years or decades into an end product which should have been a confusion of designs, yet which had somehow coalesced into a form both menacing and complete.

“The Vilekron,” said Flint. “Fifty thousand metres from nose to tail. Is that an energy shield surrounding it?” he asked. A shroud of darkness wrapped the Kilvar warship, sometimes thick and almost impenetrable to the eye, at other times thinner, yet with the same pregnancy of a thundercloud at dusk.

“I don’t know what it is, sir,” said Burner. “Our sensors gathered some data I don’t recognize, but I haven’t had a chance to analyse it yet.”

“Sir, can we really beat that thing?” asked Garrett. “I know we can’t let Captain Vazox down, but how can we defeat a vessel like that one?”

“There’s a way,” said Flint. “There has to be.”

“All we need to do is figure out how to make our weapons fire from one phase into another,” said Maddox. “Then, muster a fleet large enough to take out a fifty-klick warship.”

Flint’s eyes went to the timer he had running. Only two minutes had elapsed since the Nightfall’s last SRT and he was already beginning to worry about the Vilekron. On the plus side, the first SRT module had recharged, leaving the annihilator with two available.

“I’ve found something else which will interest you, sir,” said Fredericks. “Take a look at that new overlay I’ve added to the tactical.”

“A lightspeed tunnel?” said Flint.

“Yes, sir. Whatever Lieutenant Burner did to the sensors, it allows us to detect lightspeed tunnels which are in a different phase as well.”

“The Kilvar mask their transitions, so this lightspeed tunnel was made by something else,” said Flint. “Lavorix.”

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks. “From the data I have, I’m ninety percent certain it was created by the Terragar.”

“The time stamps indicate it’s recent,” said Flint.

“Very recent,” Fredericks confirmed. “Subsequent to our last encounter with Tol-Ga-Eld.”

“The Lavorix didn’t cut and run,” said Flint. “Not straightaway.”

“We’re not enemies and we’re not friends either,” said Flint.

“The Lavorix have no reason to hide their comms from us,” said Larson. “What the hell are they playing at?”

“Trust?” said Maddox.

“I don’t know,” said Flint. “The Lavorix have been fighting the Kilvar for centuries, so I guess they have their ways of doing things.”

“They’ve also lost five Laws of Ancidium and the Ancidium itself was trapped in stasis for more than a decade, so they’re probably taking baby steps,” said Fredericks. “So they don’t get knocked back out of the fight before they’ve even stepped into the ring again.”

Flint didn’t know why the Terragar was running silent, but he felt stirrings of excitement at the possibility the immense warship was still somewhere in the Landnir system, or maybe close by – watching, perhaps, for developments.

“The Lavorix don’t normally run, sir,” said Larson. “At least not the ones I fought.”

“There’s a power build-up on those cylinders, sir,” said Fredericks. “A significant power build-up.”

With the timer since the last SRT now past three minutes, Flint’s eagerness to move on from Lofor was high. Nevertheless, he wanted to learn more about the purpose of the tenixite converters. In anticipation of a rapid exit, he chose his next destination and rested his thumb near the mode 3 activation button.

“Energy output still climbing, sir,” said Fredericks. “It’s quadrupled in the last three or four seconds.”

“There’s no visible sign that any part of the surface was depleted,” said Burner. “But our sensors detected moderate seismic activity about a hundred klicks south of the ring. That makes me wonder if the tenixite reserves are far enough underground that we’re not seeing any evidence of the conversion.”

“So the Lavorix might have activated these cylinders dozens of times,” said Larson.

“Could be, Commander.”

“The output is at sixteen hundred percent,” said Fredericks. “Whatever’s happening, it’ll be soon.”

A warship appeared, exactly in the centre of the tenixite converter ring and at an altitude of eighty kilometres. The vessel was diamond-shaped like many of the other Kilvar craft, with the same jagged spines pointing forwards. The main difference was in size and mass. This new arrival measured twenty-six thousand metres and with a sixteen-thousand-metre beam at its widest point. On its topside plating, a single cannon protruded from an enormous turret.

“The Toll,” said Larson. “What the hell?”

“What’s the Toll?” asked Flint.

“The Aeklu – another of the Laws of Ancidium – was fitted with a weapon just like that one,” said Larson. “I remember the damage it caused.”

“The power spike has faded from those converters, sir,” said Fredericks. “If there’s anything else coming through, it isn’t happening now.”

“I think that one is enough,” said Flint. He swore. “First the Vilekron and now this. Did you ever feel outgunned?”

“Do you think that spaceship has come for us, sir?” asked Maddox.

“I don’t think the Vilekron needs any assistance, Lieutenant. Whatever the truth, we don’t want anything else coming into alliance territory.”

“The new warship is in normal phase, sir,” said Becerra. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

Having been summoned from an unknown part of the universe, the diamond ship didn’t stay motionless for long. It rose, steadily at first, from the converter ring, and then accelerated with increased urgency. Flint was momentarily frozen by indecision. He wanted to watch, but time was running out.

“The Vilekron has emerged from an SRT, sir,” said Becerra.

It was the spur Flint needed and he pressed the Nightfall’s mode 3 activation button without further delay. The annihilator entered and exited lightspeed, its target being a place two million kilometres above planet Gimbeze. The sensors came up and the sensor team quickly finished the area scans.

“I have a feed of the planet, sir,” said Becerra.

Gimbeze was larger than average and barren, though several of its metrics suggested it might – at some point during the Landnir star’s life cycle – support life. For now, there were few distinguishing features beyond a couple of exceptionally high mountain ranges and a crevasse which ran for several thousand kilometres and which dwarfed most others Flint had seen in his travels.

“Searching for Kilvar at Gimbeze,” said Burner. “Warships detected. Lots of warships.”

“Shit, there might be hundreds of the scumbags here,” said Garrett.

Flint cursed loudly. It appeared as if the Kilvar were using Gimbeze as a base for the majority of their warships in the Landnir system. A data overlay on his tactical indicated a total of 304 warships detected so far, and the number climbed by another five as he watched.

“Most of the designs are familiar to us,” said Garrett. “We have diamond-shaped warships and superheavy lifters, which are probably carrying the supplies. There’s nothing to suggest the Kilvar intend this to be a permanent home – no ground installations that I can find. Not on the visible side.”

“There’s so much we don’t know about the Kilvar,” said Flint. “It’s logical to assume they have a base somewhere, else how do they obtain ammunition and supplies?”

“Wherever that base is, it’s not here,” said Larson. “And the Lavorix didn’t find it, or they’d have won their war long ago.”

“I think I’ve seen enough,” said Flint. “I’d wanted to discover something here at Landnir that would have given hope to the alliance – such as a weakness in our enemy’s preparations or defences, which a lightning strike by our forces could exploit.”

“There’s nothing like that here,” said Maddox. “The Kilvar have enough resources in Landnir to wipe out the combined human and Daklan fleets – unless we figure out a way to overcome the immunity on their smaller warships and do it soon.”

“Even then we’ll be facing the Vilekron and that other warship,” said Flint. “Maybe our fleets can take out the second one, as long as it doesn’t change phase. I wouldn’t like to imagine the losses we’d suffer.”

“We need the Lavorix,” said Larson.

Flint had arrived at the same conclusion. “They won’t help us while the Vilekron is in the arena.”

“Which means we need to think of a way to draw the enemy command ship far away from Landnir,” said Maddox.

“Or we need to neutralise the Vilekron ourselves,” said Flint.

“An outcome we have no way to achieve,” said Maddox.

“There’s a way,” said Flint, repeating his sentiments from earlier. He wasn’t saying it out of bravado, he was completely certain the Kilvar could be made vulnerable. “We’re fitted with an exium module and all we have to do is work out how to put it to good use.”

“Words are easy, sir,” said Fredericks.

“I know, Lieutenant. But we’re going to put our heads together and we’re going to think of a way.”

“At some point, we’ll be required to cancel the phase shift in order use the comms, sir,” said Larson. “We have to make high command aware of what we’ve found. Maybe we could use the opportunity to seek technical guidance from Research Lead Moseley and his team.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, Commander,” said Flint. While RL Moseley’s solutions usually involved explosions and a high risk of death, it was impossible to accuse the man of lacking in ideas. “However, we’ll have to wait five minutes between entering normal phase and returning to phase shift. I’m not sure we can handle the pressure of having both the Vilekron and potentially hundreds of other warships pursuing us. Not even for five minutes.”

Larson stared and Flint shifted in his seat. “This has to change, sir,” she said.

“I know, Commander.” Flint raised his voice. “Lieutenant Burner, it would help us immeasurably if we could send a comms message without leaving phase shift.”

“Yes, sir, it would. I told you before that I think we need new tech. Now I believe it might be possible.” Burner raised a hand and made a conspicuous point to his left. “I’d need some help. The problem comes from how the sensors handle outbound data. When we’re phase shifted, a comm will reach the antenna and it won’t fire because we’re neither at sub-light, nor lightspeed. In a nutshell, this happens because the transmission processors don’t know what degree of amplification is required.”

Flint’s impatience for the conclusion got the better of him. “Quickly please, Lieutenant.”

“I’ve already condensed this into—” Burner cut himself short. “We’re not configured to send comms from phase shift, sir. Our transmissions get stuck.”

“But the sensors work.”

“The sensor arrays are a conduit for the comms, sir, but ultimately the two are not the same. The sensors are robust – they gather everything. The comms antennae operate either at sub-light or FTL, but not in between.”

“So what do you need to make this work?” asked Flint.

“Time, sir.”

“A resource we do not have in abundance.” He gritted his teeth. “We need you on the sensors, Lieutenant Burner. Continue investigating a method to make the comms work in different phases, but don’t lose focus on your main duties.”

“Yes, sir.”

The timer on Flint’s console was climbing inexorably. Soon, the Vilekron would arrive. Failure or destruction were linked and neither seemed avoidable. He closed his eyes, fighting despair.

The exium. It’s our advantage.

At that moment, an idea came and Flint straightened. “Lieutenant Fredericks, would I be right to think the Nightfall’s databanks contain past revisions of every piece of control system software the alliance has ever implemented?”

“Yes, sir – that’s standard procedure in case we encounter a catastrophic bug and need to roll back to an earlier version.”

“What about beta versions?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to check.”

“Please do.”

“What are you hunting for, sir?” asked Fredericks, his tone halfway between suspicious and interested.

“The control software we used on the Firestorm.”

“You mean the control software that created a series of increasingly unpredictable stasis negation pulses, sir?” asked Garrett innocently.

“Yes, that one.”

“I’ve located it, sir,” said Fredericks. “I don’t claim I can see into the future, but you’re about to order me to install it, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely that’s what I’m about to do.”

“The Nightfall is a completely different warship to the Firestorm, sir,” said Fredericks. “It’s safer, for a start. However, if we switch to the Firestorm’s beta software, that reliability might go out the window.”

“The beta software wasn’t a complete replacement for the Firestorm’s control systems,” said Flint. “It only added the stasis negation pulses, along with a few other options.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Instead of negation pulses, I want us to create a sphere of actual stasis,” said Flint. “Can you modify the beta software to do that?”

“Sir, it’s not a simple case of changing a one to a zero in a line of code,” Fredericks protested. “Well, maybe it would be a case of just changing a one to a zero, but only if a stasis sphere generation command was already programmed in.”

“We’re talking about RL Moseley here,” said Maddox. “I’ll bet you’d find all kinds of crazy shit in that beta software.”

“And now I’m going to give you the really bad news, Lieutenant Fredericks,” said Flint. He smiled.

“I’m not sure it can get any worse than stasis pulses and RL Moseley, sir.”

“It’s good that you’re optimistic,” said Flint. “Now listen up – once you’ve figured out how to make the Nightfall create a stasis sphere, I want you to work on a second problem. At the same time as we maintain this stasis, I want the exium module to generate a much smaller stasis negation sphere – one that will encompass the Nightfall and nothing else.”

Fredericks occasionally pretended he was slow on the uptake, when in truth he was sharp as a pin. “Because if we create only a stasis sphere, we’ll be trapped in the middle of it.”

“That’s right – so if we accompany it with a much smaller negation sphere, we’ll be able to fly unhindered through our own stasis,” said Flint.

“I feel as if I’m listening to a couple of RL Moseleys,” said Garrett. “Maybe I should blow myself up now, to save the wait.”

“I don’t know if we’ll create zero-time or just slow time, sir,” said Fredericks, ignoring the interruption. “The control software is designed to initiate a change on the exium module at the atomic level. However, we’ve previously – and repeatedly - learned that exium is unpredictable.” He cleared his throat. “And I don’t really know what will happen when we start creating stasis spheres during phase shift. The outcome might not be what we’re expecting.”

“It’s a chance we’re going to take,” said Flint. “Check it out the beta coding and find out if you can make the necessary alterations.”

Fredericks gave a long and drawn-out sigh. “I don’t need to, sir. Even if there’re no built-in subroutines to create stasis spheres, it won’t take much to alter the negation pulse generation commands to do what you’re asking. After that, I’d just need to add a loop between the two subroutines.”

“You’d best get on with it,” said Flint.

“Once we’re required to maintain these spheres along with energy shields, phase shifts and everything else on the Nightfall which requires energy, that propulsion base level is going to rise quickly.” Fredericks took a breath. “And I’m already worried – something’s either going to break or the exium module will become depleted. For all our sakes, we’d best hope it’s the latter.”

“Even though we’ll lose the energy shield and everything else relying on exium?” asked Maddox.

“If the exium depletes there’s a chance, however small, that we might still live,” said Fredericks. He turned his attention back to Flint. “I’ll get started. Dare I ask exactly what you’re planning to do with these stasis spheres, sir?”

Flint said his next words with a calmness he didn’t entirely feel. “We’ve been running too long. At some point we’ll have to fight, and that time is almost upon us. We’re going to locate the Vilekron and test our exium module against their mass and firepower.”

Nobody spoke for a time and Flint let the silence linger. Everything up until this moment – starting from the Nightfall’s and Takrivon’s attack on the Kilvar fleet at Basalt – had been risky. From now on, the risk level was going to climb so fast and so high that Flint knew he would be forced to commit without pause or fear and never look back.

It was a challenge the human-Daklan alliance needed him to make and one he had to overcome. Failure here at Landnir would hand victory on a plate to the Kilvar, and Flint wasn’t going to be the man who let it happen.

Chapter Eighteen

“We’re going to execute another SRT,” said Flint. “Back to Lofor.”

“That’ll give me some time to install the control software and check the coding, sir,” said Fredericks.

“Why Lofor, sir?” asked Maddox.

“The Terragar,” said Larson, before Flint could respond. She looked in his direction. “You’re going to follow its lightspeed tunnel and see if you can persuade Tol-Ga-Eld to join the fight.”

“That’s exactly what I’m planning, Commander,” said Flint.

“What if the Lavorix keep their receptors hidden?” asked Garrett.

“They won’t,” said Flint. “Tol-Ga-Eld was given command of the Terragar because he’s good at what he does. If we show up again, he’ll know there’s a reason and that’ll give him little choice other than to speak with us.”

“Besides, the Lavorix’s goals are aligned with ours,” said Larson. “In fact – if the entity on the Ancidium was telling the truth – they have far more commitment than we do. The Lavorix were created to eradicate the Kilvar, while we’d stop fighting once the alliance is no longer in danger.”

“Exactly,” said Flint. “Tol-Ga-Eld is here because he sees an opportunity. All we have to do is show him how that opportunity is far greater than he realises.”

“By attacking the Vilekron,” said Garrett flatly.

“By doing our duty,” said Flint sharply. He’d delayed longer than he intended and he rested his thumb on the SRT button. “Mode 3 activated.”

The double transitions were beginning to take their toll and Flint retched when this one was done. A dose of Frenziol-15 would dampen the physical debilitation and clear his mind, yet he was reluctant to take a shot until it was unavoidable. Just thinking about the drugs reminded him he wasn’t fully recovered from the previous injections at the Evia system. In fact, he was exhausted and running on a mixture of adrenaline and willpower.

“Where are those sensor feeds?” he demanded angrily. The Nightfall’s engines droned with acceleration as he pushed the controls along their guide slots, and the whine he’d noticed earlier seemed to have increased in volume and pitch. He hoped it was his imagination. “Lieutenant Fredericks, locate the Terragar’s lightspeed tunnel.”

“The Vilekron arrived at Gimbeze a split-second before we departed, sir,” said Burner. “It wasn’t much more than two million klicks from our position.”

“They’re not getting any quicker at following us, but they’re becoming more accurate,” said Fredericks.

The sensors came up and, shortly after, the area scans were finished. Flint had aimed blindside of the tenixite converters, since he didn’t want to run into that second massive warship, with or without the phase shift for protection.

“The lightspeed tunnel overlay is on your tactical, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’ve calculated the end point as being out past Ivok – that’s the twelfth planet of Landnir.”

“Thank you,” said Flint in acknowledgement.

“We only have a single SRT available, sir,” said Larson. “The other two modules are recharging.”

“We’re going to head around the planet for a couple of minutes while Lieutenant Fredericks completes his work on the control software,” said Flint. “That’ll be enough time for one of the modules to finish its cooldown. After that, we’re following the Terragar’s lightspeed tunnel.”

“It might have gone elsewhere after stopping at Ivok, sir,” said Larson softly.

“In which case, we’ll follow as long as it’s practical to do so,” said Flint. “If the Terragar has returned to the Ancidium, we’ll—” He stopped short, unsure how to finish. His plan relied on the Lavorix – if they refused to assist or were no longer in the Landnir system, Flint didn’t yet know what he’d do.

Larson understood. “We’ll take it as it comes.”

“Sir, I’ve installed the beta control software on an isolated data array partition,” said Fredericks. “I’m ready to switch over upon your command.”

“Do it,” said Flint.

“Switchover complete,” said Fredericks, so quickly that his finger must have been poised over the button.

Flint watched the command console instrumentation carefully, mentally willing the gauges and readouts to stay exactly where they were. To his relief, nothing moved.

“That went well,” said Garrett.

“Just wait until we create those stasis spheres,” said Fredericks. “I’m adding some lines to the code – it won’t take long.”

“Are we going to have the same issues shutting down the stasis as we did on the Firestorm?” asked Becerra.

“The simple answer is I don’t know,” said Fredericks. “There’s nothing inherent in the software that would cause a repeat of the problem.” He gave a humourless laugh. “You know the score when it comes to exium, Lieutenant – let’s just hope for the best.”

The seconds dragged and Flint watched the starboard feed of Lofor. None of the tenixite converters were visible and the facing side of the planet had little to distract the eye. However, this was one of the occasions where a lack of activity was distinctly preferable to the alternative. His mind wandered down the paths of his thoughts, searching for ideas which might help turn the tide. The odds were stacked so greatly against this endeavour that he didn’t dare imagine an outcome in his favour.

We’ve got to keep on fighting. Take out the Vilekron or drive it away from here. After that, we’re going to need Tol-Ga-Eld and the Terragar to finish the job, or at least make it winnable for the alliance fleet.

“Code modifications complete,” said Fredericks, his words hauling Flint back into the present.

“We won’t create stasis the moment you load those modifications?” asked Flint.

“No, sir. Everything will be controlled by the command menu on your console or mine.”

“Load the code mods,” said Flint.

“Done. We’re ready to go.”

“It’s been more than two minutes since our last SRT,” said Flint. A second SRT module had become available. “We can delay here at Lofor for another minute if there’s a good reason for it.”

Nobody spoke, so Flint set a destination point at the end of the Terragar’s lightspeed tunnel. He took two deep breaths – which sometimes helped with the transitions – and activated mode 3 travel. On this occasion, Flint hardly suffered and his brain was instantly alert.

“Everyone knows what to do,” he said, requesting maximum acceleration from the Nightfall. If everything had worked correctly, Ivok would be half a billion kilometres away, so he had no concerns about an unwanted collision during sensor blindness.

“Sensors up and scans commenced,” said Burner.

“I can’t run a comms sweep while we’re phase shifted, sir,” said Garrett.

“I know that, Lieutenant.” Flint didn’t take his eyes from the feeds. Outside was emptiness and plenty of it.

“No lightspeed tunnels detected so far, sir,” said Fredericks. “The data sometimes requires a few moments for the obliterator cores to compile - and we’re six of those down.”

“Near scans clear,” said Burner.

“Fars still running, sir,” said Becerra. “Signs are, we’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

“A good place to lay low if you want to remain within touching distance of events closer to Landnir,” said Larson.

“That’s the hope, Commander,” said Flint.

“Far scans clear,” Burner announced.

Flint hadn’t necessarily expected to exit lightspeed and find the Terragar only a few thousand kilometres away, but he nevertheless felt a twinge of disappointment that the Lavorix weren’t anywhere close by.

“Any sign of a lightspeed tunnel, Lieutenant Fredericks?”

“No, sir.”

That at least was potential good news. “We’ll have to return to normal phase and run a sweep for comms receptors,” said Flint.

“Why not give us a few minutes to scan further afield, sir?” asked Garrett. “We might spot the Terragar.”

“Time is short, Lieutenant. Sooner rather than later, the Kilvar will detect our exium module and they’ll follow us out here. When that happens, I’d rather our dealings with the Lavorix were concluded – if they can see us, I believe there’s a greater likelihood they’ll open a comms channel.”

“This is on a knife edge,” said Maddox.

“Feeling the heat, Lieutenant?” asked Larson.

“Hell no, Commander. Bring it on.”

“Exiting phase shift,” said Flint, touching a button on his display. “Be ready on the comms.”

The entire warship juddered, and a rough-edged grating sound came from behind the rear bulkhead. It was another indication that all was not well with the annihilator and, when Flint checked the engine base power level, it had climbed significantly.

“Lieutenant Fredericks - is that base level increase attributable to the beta control software?” he asked.

“I don’t know, sir. It increased way more than during our previous phase shifts.” He cursed. “A half-dozen anomalies appeared on the propulsion straight after. They’ve been eliminated, but that’s not a good sign.”

“Nothing ever is,” said Flint bitterly. “Lieutenant Garrett – is the receptor sweep finished?”

“Yes, sir. It came back blank, so the Lavorix are still running silent.”

“They could have gone a long way from here just by using their sub-lights, sir,” said Burner. “Too far away for us to have a realistic chance of spotting them.”

“Or the Terragar could have opened a gateway,” said Larson. “We don’t know if our hardware can detect those.”

Flint gritted his teeth. He’d taken a gamble and the early signs were that it hadn’t paid off. The Nightfall couldn’t enter phase shift again for another few minutes and only one SRT module was available. With the Vilekron requiring not much over three minutes to locate the annihilator, margins were tight.

“What do you think, Commander?” he asked. “Should we re-evaluate?”

Larson held his gaze. “I think we’ve done the right thing coming here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It wasn’t meant to, sir.”

More than once, this mission had come to a tipping point, and each time it had regained equilibrium of a sort. Here it was at another critical juncture and Flint wavered between calling an end and heading for home, or pushing harder.

In the end, there was no real choice.

“Keep scanning for the Terragar,” he snarled.

“Scans running,” Burner confirmed. “I have a quarter of our lenses focused into phase shift. If the Vilekron jumps in anywhere close, I should be able to spot it.”

“I’ve located the Lavorix warship, sir!” said Becerra. “It’s two million klicks from our position and heading our way at approximately eight thousand klicks per second!”

“They’ve opened a receptor, sir!” said Garrett, almost jumping from her seat. “And they’ve requested a channel!”

The news made Flint sit bolt upright. “Don’t wait around, Lieutenant,” he said. “Accept the request and put it on open.”

The bridge speakers hummed when the connection formed.

“You are persistent, Captain Flint,” said Tol-Ga-Eld.

“The stakes are too high to give up,” said Flint.

“Death is assured to those who remain here.”

“Then why didn’t you return to the Ancidium?” asked Flint.

For a moment, Tol-Ga-Eld was quiet. “Because I sense an opportunity, human, I just cannot grasp what it might be.”

“We have seen the Vilekron,” said Flint. “It is in a different time stream.”

“This we know,” said the Lavorix. “Our sensors can detect the enemy warship, but our weapons cannot affect it. Have you overcome this difficulty?”

Flint trod carefully. “Our warship can enter a phased state and it can create stasis fields. We will combine the two and attack.”

“You plan to freeze the Vilekron in stasis and hope that will make it somehow vulnerable to your weapons,” said Tol-Ga-Eld.

“Sometimes you have to try,” said Flint. “Another warship arrived through the tenixite gateway,” he added, to see how the Lavorix commander would react.

“The Limborus,” said Tol-Ga-Eld, without making it clear how he knew. “It was created as a response to the Laws of Ancidium.”

“Can you destroy it?”

“Perhaps. However, the presence of the Vilekron will guarantee the Terragar’s defeat.”

“We must work together,” said Flint. He momentarily considered sending a comm to Fleet Admiral Recker, asking for the fleet he’d been told would be parked near the Landnir system, to be sent in. Those warships might prove a distraction to the Kilvar, but they’d be wiped out. As quickly as the thought came, he dismissed it. “We each have something to give.”

“What you have said does not convinced me,” said Tol-Ga-Eld. “Guesswork and hope are not good foundations for victory.”

“What will it take?” asked Flint, his frustration growing. He didn’t think Tol-Ga-Eld was being deliberately stubborn, but this was a time for quick decisions.

At that moment, a huge, diamond-shaped warship emerged from lightspeed, little more than a thousand kilometres from the Nightfall. The Limborus had arrived.

Flint had been forced into a corner with his preparations far from complete and his brain scrambled to catch up. A sudden rage fuelled him.

“Commander Larson, open fire!” he shouted, requesting maximum from the propulsion. The inhalation and whine of stress seemed louder than ever – intoxicating and petrifying all at once. “Hit them while they’re sensor blind!”

“What about the stasis spheres, sir?” asked Lieutenant Fredericks? “Should I activate them?”

Flint hesitated for only a moment. “Do it and let’s bring some pain to these Kilvar bastards!”

He didn’t usually allow his emotions to rule – not in combat anyway – and the order to fight made him feel as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. What the outcome of his impetuousness would be, Flint didn’t know, but he was going to give this his best shot.

Chapter Nineteen

“Starboard hellburner clusters one through nine: fired. Uppers one through nine: fired. Forwards one though nine: fired. Forward lightspeed missile tubes one and two: fired.”

Commander Larson read out the deployments almost as a litany, where each utterance reduced centuries of destructive technological advancement into a mere few words. On she went.

“Terrus guns T1, T2, T3 and T4 fired! Disruptor drones launched. Railers set to track and destroy.”

“I’ll have the enemy ship within the nose cannons’ targeting arc any moment,” said Flint, shouting to be heard over the boom of the Terrus cannons. He hauled on the controls and the Nightfall strained against physics.

The tactical overlay indicated the weapons were on target and Larson didn’t hesitate. “Destroyer cannon 1, locked and fired,” she said, the initial calmness in her voice turning breathy with tension and a growing exhilaration. “Destroyer cannon 2: locked and fired.”

The twin thumping bass expulsions made Flint feel as if he’d run into a wall made from dense rubber and he experienced a brief disorientation. Instinct took over, and it guided his hands as he rotated the Nightfall to bring the portside and underside clusters into lock and launch positions.

The sensor feeds were no longer of dark serenity. Now, missiles raced across the screen, leaving pin-sharp trails of orange in their wakes. Such was the distance that the detonations came almost at once and, to Flint’s surprise, an energy shield appeared around the Limborus. That shield became engulfed in the starkness of plasma light and amongst the searing white, twin, immense flashes of darkness created by the destroyer cannons appeared.

“They have an energy shield,” Flint said. It was a bad start, since he’d been relying on the destroyer cannons opening up a couple of massive holes in the enemy warship’s flank. “That’s going to be a tough nut to crack.”

Flint’s eyes scoured the feed, hunting for a sign the enemy shield was failing. The light from the plasma made it difficult to be sure one way or the other.

“Did the lightspeed missiles bypass the shield?” he asked.

During the Lavorix wars, these weapons had issues with their guidance systems which made them re-enter normal space on the wrong side of an energy shield. Apparently those failings had been long ago corrected, but this was the first time the new guidance systems had been tested in combat.

“Yes sir!” said Larson. “I have two confirmed detonations on the Limborus’s hull!”

“That’ll give them something to think about!” said Maddox.

“Waiting on lightspeed missile reload before we can fire again,” said Larson. “Fifteen seconds.”

“Give them the portsides and undersides,” said Flint, finishing his rotation of the Nightfall. Eager to see the result of the lightspeed warhead detonations, he squinted fruitlessly into the inferno.

“Portside hellburner clusters one through nine: fired. Undersides one through nine: fired. Rear clusters one through nine: fired!”

This new salvo thundered into the Limborus’s shield but was unable to penetrate. Instead, the plasma wreathed the enemy ship in a sphere, turning it as bright as a star. The Nightfall’s sensors attenuated, reducing the light to a dull greyness and dulling the shadows which danced across the bridge. Breathing in the crisp bridge air, Flint’s weariness fell away from him and he felt once more truly alive.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, where’re those stasis spheres?” he shouted. “I want to lock those bastards up and blow them into pieces!”

“I’ll have them activated any moment now, sir.” Fredericks sounded stressed as hell.

“What’s the problem, Lieutenant?”

“There’s an error in my coding. I’m fixing it.”

Flint didn’t push and he concentrated on the controls. Banking again, he brought the Nightfall to within twenty kilometres of the enemy ship. While the Limborus was motionless it was an easy target and when it fired its inevitable first wave of missiles, the annihilator’s own velocity and proximity would combine to – hopefully – make the enemy warheads overshoot.

“Tol-Ga-Eld, what’s keeping you?” shouted Flint over the cacophony of the propulsion.

“He cut the channel, sir,” said Becerra.

“What’s the Terragar doing?” asked Flint angrily. The huge vessel was still on the sensors, tumbling and rotating, and travelling at almost ten thousand kilometres per second.

“They have not deviated from their course, sir,” said Becerra. “They’re heading our way.”

One of the Terragar’s huge cannons jumped with recoil and on the main feed, Flint spotted another burst of dark energy detonate against the Limborus’s energy shield.

Abruptly, the enemy vessel accelerated from its start position, not steadily, but with brutal, contemptuous ease. The Nightfall’s sensors were set to auto-track and they followed the huge warship as it banked away with churning plasma spilling from its shield.

“They’re back online, sir,” said Garrett.

All at once, a dozen crimson particle beams stabbed outwards from the Limborus. Four connected with the Nightfall’s energy shield, turning it a deeper blue and creating an off-the-scale jump in the annihilator’s output gauge. The spike fell quickly, but Flint wasn’t at all reassured.

“Eight beam hits on the Terragar,” said Burner.

“Let’s hope the Limborus keeps dividing its attacks,” said Flint.

“Watch that gun they’re packing, sir,” said Larson, reminding him the Kilvar vessel had plenty of options in its arsenal. “We don’t want to find out the hard way what it can do.”

“I think we can guess,” Flint growled, watching the enemy ship carefully. It wasn’t yet clear which target its commanding officer had selected for that big topside gun and Flint made sure the Nightfall was outside the anticipated firing arc.

A second shot from the Terragar’s destroyer cannons exploded against the Limborus’s shield and the Lavorix warship continued its onwards flight, die-straight towards the Kilvar. Flint thought it surely a positive sign – an indication that Tol-Ga-Eld had committed to the engagement with the hope of scoring a quick kill.

The Vilekron will come.

Flint cursed inwardly at the thought. It was inconceivable to think the Kilvar would send only one of their two capital warships into battle, particularly when they knew an exceptionally dangerous opponent like the Terragar potentially remained within the Landnir system.

“Lieutenant Burner, are you still watching in phase shift for the Vilekron?” Flint asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Yes, sir, I know.”

A brief check of the tactical indicated the Limborus was already eight thousand kilometres from the Nightfall and the gap was increasing. Other readouts on Flint’s console told him the lightspeed missile reload had completed, but the destroyer cannons had a few seconds to go.

“Another strike from the Terragar on the enemy shield, sir,” said Becerra.

“That big gun is turning our way, sir,” said Burner.

So it was. Flint had initially assumed the Kilvar big gun had a limited firing arc, but, to his horror, the turret appeared to have 360-degree flexibility and it rotated with a speed which defied its undoubted mass.

In desperation, he banked the Nightfall and dropped the nose, unable to take his eyes off the dark opening of the massive barrel which was unerringly tracking the movements of his warship. He had no idea whether the gun would eject an energy burst or a projectile. The latter would be much easier to evade.

As the turret spun, the Kilvar pilot adjusted the Limborus’s orientation to compensate for the Nightfall’s evasive manoeuvres. So smooth was the operation that Flint knew beyond a shadow of doubt he was facing an experienced crew which had fought many battles.

Another dozen particle beams lanced away from the Limborus. This time, all twelve were aimed at the Terragar, which gave Flint an insight into the certainty of his opponents. They didn’t think their gun shot would miss and they fully believed a single discharge would be enough.

“Terrus guns T1, T2, T3 and T4 fired. Disruptor drones launched,” said Larson, tension in her voice.

“Itching to take the controls, Commander?” asked Flint, his own voice equally tight. He pulled the Nightfall into the hardest of turns. The annihilator’s nose guns were way off target, while the enemy’s main armament continued its tracking.

“It’s coming,” said Larson.

Flint knew it too. It seemed like whatever he did to throw off the enemy’s aim, they were a little quicker and more skilful than he was. He clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. It was going to come down to the exium module and whether it could suck enough juice out of the Nightfall’s propulsion to absorb the coming attack.

“Stasis generation and negation spheres now activated, sir!” yelled Fredericks. “They’re centred on the Nightfall - they’ll go where we go and they’ll remain until I cancel them.”

The twin spheres created no visible or audible effects, though Flint’s console registered a massively increased power draw. The base level rose steadily and it didn’t stop. Hardly two seconds after the stasis sphere appeared, visible recoil on the Limborus’s gun showed it had fired.

Reactions took over and Flint put the annihilator into another banking turn. The muscles in his forearms and neck strained against the sudden lateral forces which the life support module didn’t fully suppress.

It was enough. A sphere of the darkest energy streaked past the Nightfall, travelling with enormous velocity despite the stasis. Flint saw the Kilvar shot go by and its tapering, jagged tail made him think of a meteor created from pure, destructive energy.

“Shit, that was close,” said Maddox.

“I’ve set the control software to generate the stasis sphere with a thousand-klick radius,” said Fredericks, talking twice as fast as usual. “If you want to catch the Limborus in the effect, you’ll need to get in close.”

“A thousand klicks isn’t much,” said Flint, glancing at the velocity gauge. “Considering we’re travelling at seven thousand klicks per second and the Limborus is at six thousand.”

“Each doubling of the sphere diameter increases the volume by eight times, sir, and that’ll be drawn straight out of our engines,” said Fredericks. “Can we afford to take the risk?”

“Can we afford not to?” asked Flint. “Don’t answer that, Lieutenant. Keep the sphere radius at a thousand klicks unless I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I estimate our stasis sphere is reducing the velocity of anything passing through it by a thousand times, sir,” said Garrett. “Not zero time, but slow enough.”

Wrestling the controls, Flint managed to get the annihilator’s nose lined up with the Kilvar warship. “Commander Larson, let’s find out how our lightspeed missiles and destroyer cannons function within this stasis sphere.”

“It’ll be my pleasure, sir. Forward lightspeed missiles tubes one and two: fired,” said Larson. “Destroyer cannon 1: fired. Destroyer cannon 2: fired.”

Two further bursts of explosive energy struck the Limborus’s shield and he wondered if they’d taken perhaps a fraction of a second longer than usual to reach their target. The interval was so tiny, he knew his brain couldn’t possibly be sure.

Then, the lightspeed missiles exploded within the Limborus’s energy shield and the size of the two blasts gave Flint incredible satisfaction.

“The enemy shield is weakening, sir,” said Burner. “It’s becoming darker with each shot.”

Even as Burner spoke, the Terragar landed a cannon shot and the Kilvar shield hue deepened still further. However, the enemy ship wasn’t nearly done and it showed no indication it was about to SRT out of trouble.

“I’ve been watching the energy readings on that big gun turret, sir,” said Copeland. “Those readings have levelled off. They’re going to take another shot at us.”

“We’ve got the stasis, Lieutenant,” said Flint. He spared a glance at the feed and the huge turret atop the Limborus was rotating left and right as it sought a lock on the Nightfall. “That gives us a few tenths of reaction time and it’ll have to be enough.”

“Sir!” yelled Burner. “I’ve detected the Vilekron. It’s a quarter of a million klicks from here, directly between us and the Terragar. Putting it on the screen.”

Something about the Fifth Seeking’s command vessel raised the hackles on Flint’s neck and he wished more than anything he could expunge it from existence with the press of a button. He knew hardly anything of the warship’s history, but he knew beyond doubt it had inflicted great evil upon every civilisation the Kilvar had visited.

“Damnit, request another channel to Tol-Ga-Eld!” snarled Flint.

Having soaked the early punishment from the Nightfall and Terragar, the Kilvar were recovering fast. The appearance of the Vilekron had effectively sealed a win for the enemy, unless Flint could pull off something special with the annihilator’s stasis sphere.

“Channel request denied, sir,” said Becerra. “I guess the Lavorix believe we don’t have anything worthwhile to say.”

The Terragar’s shield, having absorbed many particle beam attacks from the Limborus, suddenly came under much greater pressure. Dark energy flashed once, twice and then a third time. Nine or ten red energy beams darted into the Lavorix shield, followed by several more, and the sphere of blue steadily darkened.

The Kilvar had not forgotten the Nightfall and they fired several times at the annihilator. Keeping focus, Flint made continuous and erratic movements on the controls and the incoming particle beams, slowed by the stasis, failed to land.

“The big gun is still tracking us, sir,” said Larson.

“I know,” said Flint. “They’re trying to learn the pattern of our movements, but I’m keeping everything random.”

“Their targeting system will build a predictive model, sir. Next time they fire, they might not miss.”

Flint nodded. “I can only do my best, Commander.”

“Sir, we can’t hold this stasis sphere forever,” said Fredericks. “You have to do something with it and soon.”

Flint felt his control over the engagement – had it ever existed - slipping from his grasp. His warship was potentially on the verge of power overload and total failure, while the Terragar was suffering a concerted attack from two opponents, one of which it couldn’t target with its weapons.

The real prize, for both the mission, the alliance as a whole, and the Lavorix at the same time, was the Vilekron. With it, the Kilvar were unbeatable. Without it, the Terragar could likely defeat the weakened Limborus and then inflict severe losses on the remaining enemy warships in the Landnir system.

“We’re going to put the Vilekron into stasis,” said Flint, reaching a hand towards the tactical.

“Ten seconds on the destroyer cannons,” said Larson.

“It won’t matter once we’ve trapped those assholes in slow time.” Flint tapped his finger on the red dot representing the Vilekron. Now, when he activated an SRT, the navigational computer would drop the Nightfall right on top of the enemy command vessel. “Let’s go,” he said.

The moment he spoke, the Limborus fired its main armament. Flint pressed his finger hard onto the SRT activation button. Filthy Kilvar energy struck the Nightfall’s energy shield at the same time as the warship entered lightspeed. The transition was so short that Flint’s brain didn’t register it happening, except for the pounding in his head which came as a result.

This situation was too urgent for Flint to be slowed by the pain in his body and he refused to acknowledge its existence. “Where are those sensors?” he shouted. His voice sounded thick, like he’d woken up from an alcohol-induced slumber. “And we took a shot from the Limborus as we entered lightspeed.”

“The sensors are coming online, sir,” said Burner.

Flint’s vision swum and he blinked furiously as he tried to bring the command console readouts into focus. Few of the electronic needles were in their expected places. Some were far to the left, others far to the right, while the remainder jumped around, unable to settle. As his brain struggled for comprehension, he held the controls in an iron grip, wanting to push the Nightfall into maximum acceleration, but unable to do so in case he brought the Vilekron out of its anticipated stasis.

“Oh shit,” he heard Larson say.

Flint pulled the pieces together and, without doubt, the outcome was an unmitigated disaster.

“Everything’s shutting down,” he said.

“Sir, we’re no longer generating the stasis spheres,” said Fredericks. “And there’s not enough power to enter phase shift again.”

“Destroyer cannons unavailable,” added Larson.

On top of everything else, the Nightfall’s energy shield had shut down, leaving the annihilator relying on its armour plating for protection. In a state of absolute fury, Flint smashed a fist into his console and the padding of his combat suit wasn’t enough to protect him from this new pain.

Death and destruction now seemed inevitable, as perhaps they had always been, and Flint couldn’t think of a way to avoid them. He bowed his head and readied himself.

Chapter Twenty

“Sensors up!” said Burner.

“Hunting for the Vilekron and the Limborus,” said Becerra. “Sensor lock obtained on the Terragar.”

“Our conventional missiles and Terrus cannons are online and available, sir,” said Larson.

When Flint realised his crew hadn’t given up, he felt a crashing shame that he’d allowed himself to accept defeat. The anger which had sustained him for too long returned with a greater force. Reaching into his leg pocket, Flint dragged out a Frenziol injector and stabbed it forcefully into his leg. The ice-cold fluid made him wince and he hurled the spent needle away.

“Status reports!” he shouted.

As if a switch had been flicked in his head, Flint was suddenly operating at one hundred percent, even though the Frenziol had yet to take hold. He grabbed the controls and requested power from the engines. They responded with a marked lack of enthusiasm, even though the inhalation of superstress hadn’t gone away.

As the velocity gauge climbed, Flint scanned the sensor feeds and found little that surprised him. The Limborus was approximately fifty thousand kilometres from the Nightfall and its energy shield was such a deep hue that it was almost invisible. Beyond the protective barrier, two of the craters formed by the lightspeed missiles burned with a ferocious heat and the blasts had ripped out an enormous mass of armour plating.

Another thirty thousand kilometres further, the Vilekron hung motionless in phase shift, with the arrogance of the invulnerable. The darkness which surrounded it was more obvious now, tenebrous and somehow vile, as if it had been created by the souls of those who had perished to the Kilvar.

Further yet, the Terragar’s shield appeared at first glance to have vanished completely. Energy beams from both Kilvar warships plunged time and again into the Lavorix vessel and Flint spotted tell-tale lines of orange created by fast-moving missiles.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, why have we lost power? I can hear that we’re still in superstress.”

“And it’s a good thing we are, sir,” said Fredericks. “If we dropped back into standard overstress, the propulsion would be at six thousand percent of its normal output.”

“Can we create another stasis field?” asked Flint. “It’s our only chance.”

“Not much of a chance, sir,” said Maddox. “And the Terragar isn’t going to stick around much longer.”

“At least the Kilvar have stopped shooting at us,” said Bolan hopefully.

“They know we’re out of the fight,” said Flint. “They’re planning to double their exium holdings.”

“I think they’ll be disappointed, sir,” said Fredericks. “I reckon the shot from that Kilvar gun, in combination with the energy required to maintain two stasis spheres, was nearly enough to deplete our exium module.”

“How nearly?” asked Flint.

“If you remember on the Firestorm, the exium reached peak craziness as it demanded more and more from the propulsion, and then it declined rapidly after that. Our own module is in that declining state.”

“I need you to tell me what options we have, Lieutenant,” said Flint.

“We should SRT out of here, sir,” said Larson.

“And then we’ll be back to square one, except with no energy shield and no phase shift,” said Flint.

“We’d be alive, sir.”

“I know.”

To come so far only to retreat would be agonising, though Flint couldn’t see an alternative. Soon, the Terragar would enter mode 3, leaving the Nightfall alone to face the enemy. Cursing everything which had come to pass, Flint touched a finger on the edge of the tactical display.

> Error: Short Range Transit unavailable. Code 95

“Shit, the SRT won’t activate,” said Flint. “Code 95 – insufficient power.”

“The power is there, sir,” said Fredericks. “Oh damnit, some of the conduits were overloaded and the control system has isolated them. I can reopen any which aren’t damaged. Failing that, I can reroute.”

“We need you to do that quickly, Lieutenant Fredericks,” said Larson.

“Yes, ma’am.”

After twenty seconds of acceleration, the velocity gauge on Flint’s console was only reading three thousand kilometres per second. “Why is the propulsion so much down on power?” he asked. “I know everything is failing, but we should be able to do better than this.”

“There’s another system making a priority call on the available energy, sir, and I’m checking what it is,” said Copeland. “It’s the stasis spheres. Lieutenant Fredericks’ modifications to the beta control software are still running.”

“I set them to priority 1,” said Fredericks.

“Our exium module is trying to make another stasis sphere, but given the little power available, I don’t think it’ll be able to generate anything other than a single pulse.”

“If that’s what’s stopping us activating an SRT, shut the damn thing down!” shouted Flint.

“Yes, sir,” said Fredericks.

The most unexpected change happened. One moment, the Nightfall was flying through space, half a billion kilometres from the planet Ivok and a much lesser distance from three immense warships engaged in battle, the next the sensors showed a completely different sight.

“What the hell?” asked Flint. “What just happened?”

“At the risk of speaking the obvious, we’re now in a holding bay, sir,” said Larson. “And there’s the Takrivon.”

The summary was a good one and Flint didn’t add anything to it. The external feeds were of grey, alloy walls, smooth and featureless. Estimates from the sensors indicated that the bay was ten kilometres in length, eight wide and five high, which was more than enough to contain the two annihilators. The Takrivon itself was starboard and parallel to the Nightfall and, while a flight control system could hold any vessel still, Captain Vazox’s annihilator seemed utterly motionless.

“The Takrivon’s visible flank, topside and underside are all undamaged,” said Burner. “There’s not a mark on its hull.”

“Yet it’s not going anywhere,” said Flint. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“This bay has no entrance or exit, sir,” said Becerra. “I’ve scanned the walls and there’s no way in or out. It’s possible the Takrivon is hiding a door seam, but unlikely.”

“Where are we and how did we get here?” said Flint. “I want answers and I want them quickly!”

He looked at his command console and, like before, most of the electronic needles were pointing at numbers which he wouldn’t expect to see on an operational warship. Those needles which had previously been undecided on whether they wanted to give absurdly high or low readings had settled into one camp or the other.

The only constant was the inhalation of superstress. Once, this sound had been the herald of technological unpredictability, now it was a reminder that all was, perhaps, not lost.

“No destroyer cannon availability,” said Larson. “But if we backed up to the extreme end of this bay, the hellburners would have time to arm. We might be able to blow a hole in the facing bulkhead.”

“Taking us to where, Commander?” Flint asked. “We’ll hold the weapons until we’ve figured out what happened.”

“I haven’t corrected the beta software coding yet, sir,” said Fredericks. “If I do so, we might have a little more power for an SRT like you wanted.”

Flint opened his mouth to give Fredericks the go-ahead, but something – a feeling that to do so would be a disaster – made him change his mind. “Hold for the moment, Lieutenant - until we have the full picture. Whatever happened to us is totally beyond anything we’ve experienced before, so let’s not rush to make changes before it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll dig through the audits to see what I can find,” said Fredericks.

“What do the feed recordings show?” asked Flint.

“I’m checking them, sir,” said Burner. “Ah.”

“I don’t know that that means, Lieutenant,” said Flint, his patience wearing thin.

“This, sir,” said Burner. “On the screen.”

Flint lifted his head and watched the feed recording, which was of the Vilekron, far in the distance and being tracked by the sensor array.

“I need to slow it down for the next part,” said Burner.

He reduced the playback speed until Flint could see the individual frames gathered by the sensors as the changed. One moment, the Vilekron was far away, the next it was much closer, and the quality of the frame was so poor that the details had become little more than a blur. Over the subsequent frames, the distance between the Nightfall and the Vilekron decreased by progressively greater amounts.

“Next frame,” said Burner.

This one was entirely grey and with dense static.

“You’re still looking at the Vilekron, sir. Watch what happens next.”

Burner halted the recording and switched to another feed, this one taken from a different sensor array. This new recording clearly showed the interior of the bay in which the Nightfall was currently trapped.

“What does the next frame show?” asked Flint.

“The same thing, sir, all the way to the present time.”

“We were put in stasis,” said Flint, suddenly understanding what the feed recording meant.

“That’s the conclusion I reached, sir,” said Burner. “You’ll have noticed how the Vilekron was coming nearer in larger steps.”

“Our passage through time was slowing,” said Flint. “The stasis field didn’t take full effect immediately.”

“That’s what the time stamps suggest, sir. During that final frame I estimate we were reduced to a millionth of our usual progress along the time stream. Maybe even less.”

“And somehow during all of that, we were transported into this bay,” said Larson. “How?”

“The first recording I showed you was from one of the phase-shifted arrays,” said Burner. “It was able to detect the Vilekron and that’s what you saw approaching us on the recording. The second recording was from one of the non-shifted arrays.”

Flint worked it through in his head. “And that non-shifted array is now able to detect the Vilekron.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Which means we’re now in the same phase as the enemy ship?”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a good moment for a grimace and one crept onto Flint’s face. “So, piecing it together, the Vilekron put us in stasis and approached from a different phase which – if my understanding is correct – allows two objects to exist in the same place at the same time. This allowed the enemy vessel to position us within this holding bay and then it brought us into the same phase.” He blew out a breath. “This is crazy. What happened to the good old method of launching missiles at each other?”

“I think you’ve overlooked the real question, sir,” said Maddox. “Namely, how come we’re talking and acting normally?”

“I thought it’s because we were in slow time not zero time?” said Garrett. “Doesn’t that mean our perception will be of normality, but everyone outside our stasis area will be travelling a zillion times faster?”

Burner cleared his throat as if he was building himself up to what he was about to say. “Extrapolating from the time stamps on the sensor frames, I’d guess at some point we entered zero-time.”

“Which makes sense, as much as I don’t like to admit it,” said Flint. “If the Kilvar only placed us in slow time, there’d be nothing stopping us unloading our weaponry into the interior of the Vilekron. The enemy might have confidence in their warship, but I doubt they have that much.” He guessed at an explanation. “The Nightfall was programmed to create stasis negation spheres and we created one that’s large enough to bring us out of zero-time, but not the Takrivon.”

“The spheres failed when the Limborus hit us with that gun,” said Fredericks. “Wait up – I’ll check something.”

Flint remained in his seat, his outward fidgeting a reflection of the workings in his mind. He already had an idea what Fredericks was going to say, and it was only a matter of having it confirmed. Every few seconds, Flint turned around to see if his engine man was done. Less than a minute later, he was.

“As we surmised before we were brought into this bay, the Nightfall’s exium module is close to depletion,” Fredericks said. “In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say its effectively dead already.”

“Yet we’re in superstress,” said Flint. “And it’s the exium that places our engines into that state.”

“Maintaining superstress is the highest priority instruction on the exium module, sir,” said Fredericks. “That’s why it’s the last thing to fail.” He gave a gruff laugh. “Second on the priority list is those stasis creation and negation spheres. When you asked me to modify the beta software I knew it was important, so I wrote my software code accordingly.”

Flint had heard enough already to confirm what he’d said only a couple of minutes earlier. “This holding bay – including the Takrivon - is in zero time, but the Nightfall has just enough power to create those stasis spheres again – or maybe only the negation sphere.”

“It’s not as straightforward as that, sir.” Fredericks looked pained. “It’s not negation spheres we’re creating – it’s pulses. Each one lasts for a couple of minutes and then fades, probably leaving us back in zero-time. Then, when the exium module has accumulated enough energy, it creates another pulse.”

“How long are we in zero-time between each pulse?” Flint asked. “Do I want to hear the answer?”

“I don’t know the answer, sir. The internal clocks on the obliterators can measure fragments of time so slight we don’t have a name for how small the numbers are, but if those cores are in true zero-time, they’re not going to register even a single cycle.”

“Worst of all, we can’t prove if we’re in zero-time or not,” said Larson. “And it doesn’t sound like we can measure how much time is passing by outside this bay.”

“It’s unlikely that months have gone by like they did when we were at Evia, Commander,” said Fredericks. “We’re pretty sure the Kilvar want the exium in our warship and the fact that we’re alive and talking about it, means they haven’t stormed the Nightfall yet.”

“And while we’re alive, we have a chance,” said Flint. An idea was forming, though he didn’t yet know if it would work. “Lieutenant Fredericks, is there any way we can make the exium module accumulate enough energy that it can generate a negation pulse with a larger radius?”

“Large enough to encompass the Takrivon?” said Fredericks. He narrowed his eyes at the feeds. “I’d guess that would require a pulse radius of almost eight klicks.”

“If that’s what it takes. Can we do it?”

“I haven’t checked our existing radius, sir, which I’ll need to do in order to find out how much extra energy we’ll require.”

“If we break the Takrivon out of stasis, what happens next?” asked Larson. “We’ll be stuck here on the Nightfall, and with the exium module failing—”

“And will the Takrivon be able to escape?” asked Garrett. “I thought our weapons didn’t work while we’re phase shifted. Will an SRT even activate?”

“We were told our weapons wouldn’t affect a target in a different phase – not that they wouldn’t be effective against an opponent in the same phase,” said Flint. “Since we’re phase shifted like the Vilekron, I don’t see why our weapons wouldn’t work.”

“There’s no documentation on that, sir,” said Copeland. “I don’t think anyone thought we’d run into this kind of situation.”

“I’m sure they didn’t,” said Flint. “Our weapons will function as expected. There’s no reason they shouldn’t.” He stared at his crew, daring them to argue. “As soon as Lieutenant Fredericks finishes his assessment of our exium module, I’ll have a better idea of our options. But damnit, we’re getting out of here, one way or the other.”

Although Flint tried to keep his voice confident, he hadn’t yet considered the details of how to make his vague plan into a success. He tipped his head back, stared at the bridge ceiling, and let his mind work.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Sir, we can definitely do something with the exium core,” said Fredericks.

It was the confirmation Flint had been waiting for and he turned in his seat. “What exactly can we do, Lieutenant?”

“Firstly, the negation pulses we’re emitting have exactly the same radius as I initially programmed the software to request, which means we’re creating an ovoid which extends a short distance beyond the Nightfall’s hull.”

“Not enough to reach the Takrivon,” said Flint.

“That’s correct, sir - even if we flew right over next to that other annihilator, our negation pulse wouldn’t encompass the entire ship.”

“But you can make something happen.”

“Yes, sir. In order to accumulate enough energy for a larger pulse, I need to modify the beta software coding so that it reduces the duration of the existing pulses – down from two minutes to one. Eventually, we should have enough in reserve to create a new pulse of a suitable size.”

“How many of the smaller pulses will be affected?”

“That depends on how long you want the bigger pulse to last, sir.”

“Long enough for one of the Nightfall’s shuttles to fly from here, dock with the Takrivon and patch into its internal comms,” said Flint. “Once that’s done, we’ll upload a data package that will instruct Captain Vazox to create a stasis negation sphere of his own - one that will encompass the Nightfall.”

“So, at least two minutes,” said Fredericks.

“Two minutes would be tight.”

Fredericks screwed up his face. “I don’t know how much we have left in the tank, sir.”

“What do you anticipate will happen once the Takrivon generates its negation sphere, sir?” asked Larson.

Flint knew Larson had guessed what he intended. “We’ll all be on that shuttle to the Takrivon, Commander. Before we leave, we’re going to set a remote-triggered command that will take the Nightfall out of superstress. The Takrivon will blow an exit hole and we’ll fly right out through it. At the right moment, we’ll send a timed instruction to this warship and when it exits superstress, the propulsion will detonate, destroying the Vilekron at the same time.”

“It might work,” said Maddox. “Assuming we can hold that negation pulse for long enough.”

“The worst that could happen is we’ll all be trapped in zero-time onboard the transport until the Kilvar decide to cancel the bay stasis and a bunch of them show up to suck out our life energy,” said Garrett. “Not much riskier than a trip to the replicator.”

Flint watched Fredericks closely. “Well, Lieutenant? Can we make it happen?”

“In the absence of anything better, I’d suggest we give it try, sir. How many minutes of negated stasis should I aim for?”

“Is your aim likely to be accurate?”

The twisting of Frederick’s expression told a tale. “Maybe. Once we start accumulating energy, it becomes harder to predict what might happen to the Nightfall’s internal systems. Some of that energy might flood a conduit and reroute elsewhere. That in turn might cause another major onboard system – say the destroyer cannons – to come online, which could leech the energy required to generate the negation pulse.”

Flint hadn’t expected it to be straightforward. A warship comprised many interconnected systems and usually they all worked in perfect harmony. Unfortunately, those systems weren’t designed to cope with the introduction of exium and, despite months of effort by the alliance’s scientists, the existing tech and control software wasn’t yet up to the task.

“Can we mitigate by giving you some time, Lieutenant?” asked Flint, his eyes drifting to the sensor feeds. The bay was as quiet as before and he wondered when the Kilvar would make their first attempt to recover the exium modules from these two annihilators.

“I can implement a few quick changes that will reduce the chance of significant energy leeching, sir,” said Fredericks. “After that I’ll run headfirst into the law of diminishing returns where progress will require hours of checking through the Nightfall’s routing tables and configuration diagrams.”

“We aren’t waiting hours,” said Flint firmly. “You have five minutes to minimise the unwanted draw on our power reserves and to set up the remote command to switch the Nightfall out of superstress. After that, we’re heading for one of the shuttles.”

“What about the time it’ll require for this energy to build up?” asked Garrett. “Don’t we have to sit around waiting for it to happen after Lieutenant Fredericks is done?”

“We’ll be in zero-time, Lieutenant, so we won’t know about it,” said Flint. “All we have to worry about is emerging from that zero-time to find the Nightfall overrun by Kilvar.”

“They should teach this shit in class,” said Bolan. “I’d feel a lot more prepared if they did.”

“We’re forging a path through the jungle, Lieutenant,” said Fredericks, his gaze not moving from his console screen. “How does it feel to be a trailblazer?”

“Better than being dead.”

While Fredericks worked, Flint opened a comms channel to Lieutenant Vance.

“We’re abandoning the Nightfall, Lieutenant. I need you and your platoon to head immediately for the forward starboard shuttle. A couple of my backup crew are somewhere onboard. Round them up and bring them with you.”

“Yes, sir.” Vance hesitated. “Are we in the shit?”

“Same as always, Lieutenant. The only uncertainty is the depth of the cesspool.”

“I’d best hold my breath on the way to the bottom, sir.”

Flint cut the channel. Events always moved fast and now they seemed to have entered lightspeed. He knew that if he allowed himself to get carried along, he’d lose sight of important details and the recent shot of Frenziol-15 had filled him with the urge to get things done. A steadying breath reminded Flint how dry his mouth was, and he drained an ice-cold water from the replicator before replacing his combat helmet.

“Grab your guns and be ready to move, folks,” he said.

The crew didn’t question the order to carry weapons – it was standard procedure whenever leaving a warship anywhere that wasn’t friendly territory. They filed across to the storage locker, each helping themselves to a gauss rifle and a Rodan shotgun.

“I’ve done what I can to minimise the energy leech, sir,” said Fredericks. “I’m setting up the remote trigger to switch the propulsion out of superstress. Of course we need the comms operational for that trigger to work, so we’d best hope Captain Vazox can get a negation sphere working quickly.”

“When does our big negation pulse start?” asked Maddox.

“Again, it’s remotely activated,” said Fredericks. “I’ll send the command once we’re all in the shuttle.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said Flint. The enormity of abandoning the Nightfall wasn’t lost on him, but this wasn’t time for sentiment.

He hurried for the door, glancing once behind at the feeds and to ensure everyone was done with their consoles. His crew were almost ready, with only Lieutenant Fredericks left at his station, his fingers stabbing at the mechanical keys on his leftmost panel.

“Done,” said Fredericks. “You didn’t need to wait for me.”

Flint touched the access panel and the exit door opened with a low rumble of gravity motors. He dashed through and descended the Daklan-sized steps as rapidly as he dared. It occurred to Flint that he’d had no opportunity to explore the Nightfall and now he was leaving the warship for good.

“Move!” he ordered, his frustration suddenly threatening to boil over.

The warship’s crew hurried through the interior. Flint inhaled cold, clear air, dense and tangy with the scents of metal. He saw no sign of life and was struck by a feeling of emptiness he normally only experienced in the endless reaches of the great void.

“It’s strange to think this sentence I’m speaking right now could have been interrupted by ten minutes of zero-time and none of us would know about it,” said Garrett.

“I’m refusing to think about it until I have eight empty beer glasses on a bar in front of me,” said Burner. “Maybe it’ll be easier that way.”

“Easier to forget,” laughed Fredericks.

Flint didn’t add to the conversation. He felt the same as they all did and didn’t know how he’d cope if he opened the floodgates to the darker thoughts waiting to assail his sanity.

“This way,” he said, turning right into another of the battleship’s narrow corridors.

The light here was adequate, yet somehow tinged with gloom, as if this area of the Nightfall was on the fringes of zero-time and it was affecting the operation of the life support. Ahead lay the entrance to Shuttle Bay 2 and Flint checked once again over his shoulder. Larson was right behind him and her eyes met his for an instant. Turning his head forward again, Flint ran into a compact room that led into the shuttle bay outer airlock.

The door light was green and Flint activated the panel while his crew entered the room. Beyond, the airlock space had room enough for all nine and he shifted impatiently until the green light appeared on the inner door.

“I’m waiting on your word, sir,” said Fredericks.

“I know, Lieutenant. I’ll tell you when.”

The inner door opened onto a space lit in cold, dim blue, and with a temperature well below freezing. This bay was identical to the one by which Flint had first entered the Nightfall, but on the opposite side of the warship. The docked shuttle was identical too.

Lieutenant Vance had left a greeting party in the form of Corporal Charnos and Private Ken Raimi, the latter of whom leaned nonchalantly on his shoulder launcher.

“Sir,” said Charnos. The bay was pressurized, allowing his voice to carry from his chin speaker. “This way.”

The shuttle’s flank door was open. Light spilled out and a miasma formed where the pool conflicted with the dimmer illumination of the bay.

“Thank you, Corporal. Lead on,” said Flint.

Aware of the urgency, Charnos sprinted for the transport, his footsteps thudding heavily on the solid floor. Raimi followed, spinning the rocket tube onto his shoulder and haring it after the Daklan.

Halfway to the shuttle entrance, Flint’s earpiece hummed with a connecting channel.

“Sir, I’m in the cockpit,” said Vance. “Everyone’s onboard.”

“What happened to the old crew?” asked Flint.

“I negotiated a handover of responsibilities, sir. At times like this, I like to be hands-on.”

“I’m exactly the same, Lieutenant, so I’ll be taking over your seat.”

“Fine with me, sir. Sergeant Tagra and I will get our asses down into the passenger bay.”

Vance doubtless had plenty of questions, though he kept them to himself. Grateful for the lack of distraction, Flint entered the shuttle. Someone had overridden the airlock controls and both doors were open, saving him and his crew a few precious seconds.

The passenger bay held no surprises, though the platoon members were clearly far more on edge than they’d been on the inward journey.

“Up there, sir,” said Drawl, pointing towards some steps. For once, his face and voice were devoid of humour.

They sense the danger, thought Flint. More – they know we’re at a tipping point.

Up he climbed. The stairwell was wide enough for two to pass, which was fortunate, since Vance was on his way down, tailed by Sergeant Tagra. Behind their visors, the soldiers’ eyes were wide and focused.

Completing his ascent, Flint dashed along a corridor with closed doorways on both sides. A final five steps took him into the cockpit with its four seats and sophisticated control hardware – the latter a necessity on a lightspeed capable vessel.

“Commander Larson, Lieutenant Burner, Lieutenant Fredericks,” Flint said, pointing at the three seats left spare after he’d taken the one centre-right. “I’m not expecting this to be a long journey, but it pays to be ready for anything.” He twisted in his seat. “The rest of you stay here in case you’re needed.”

The shuttle’s onboard systems were powered up and it was obtaining sensor feeds from the Nightfall. The view of the Vilekron’s bay hadn’t changed in the short time it had taken Flint and his crew to reach the shuttle. It should have been a reassurance, but his adrenaline was pumping like he was under heavy fire. The Kilvar wouldn’t leave the two annihilators alone forever and with the Nightfall’s crew alternating between normal and zero-time, Flint couldn’t begin to guess how long he had left before his house of cards came crashing down.

“Sir, we’re ready,” said Larson.

Flint nodded. “Let’s get things moving. Lieutenant Fredericks, be ready to send the command to the Nightfall.”

“Yes, sir.” Fredericks looked up from the monitoring tools he’d accessed via the shuttle’s console. “I’m going to request a three-minute duration on the negation pulse, sir. The exium module should be capable of sustaining the increased radius for that long.”

“Three minutes will be enough,” said Flint. He entered a command into one of his keypads. “Disengaging docking clamps. We’re aiming for the Takrivon’s Shuttle Bay 4 – it’s a dedicated bay for visiting craft so it shouldn’t be occupied. Lieutenant Burner - send our docking request the moment we’re outside the Nightfall’s hull.”

“Yes, sir. And I have the comms data packet ready to go as well.”

“Thank you.” Flint gripped the shuttle’s control bars.

“This is it,” said Maddox, from her place against the rear bulkhead.

“It sure is,” said Flint. He entered the final command, triggering an automatic launch of the shuttle. “Lieutenant Fredericks, it’s time for the negation pulse.”

“Instruction sent, sir.”

“Any way to confirm success?”

“A power spike appeared on the instrumentation – the pulse has been generated.”

Watching the shuttle’s forward sensors, Flint saw the first set of bay doors opening before him. The transport accelerated along the launch tunnel and the acceleration pushed him into the padding of his seat. More doors opened as the vessel sped through the annihilator’s plating and then it was ejected into the Vilekron’s bay.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Nightfall’s launch systems handed control of the shuttle over to Flint and the transport’s engines rumbled powerfully as he brought it into a slow-ahead. Already the sensors had adjusted to the darkness and Flint fixed his gaze on the Takrivon. Even trapped as it was within the Vilekron, Captain Vazox’s battleship was a looming shape of menace and death, its Terrus guns inconceivably vast in comparison to the approaching shuttle.

“Docking request sent, sir,” said Burner. “Next - the data package for Captain Vazox and his crew. Also sent.”

“Is there a way to confirm receipt?”

“I can confirm the data reached its intended comms receptor, sir.”

“That’s good enough,” said Flint. “It means the negation pulse has reached the Takrivon.” This was a positive beginning, but the tension in his muscles didn’t go away. “The Shuttle Bay 4 door isn’t opening,” he said.

“No, sir, it isn’t,” said Burner. “I’m requesting a voice channel and nobody’s answering.”

The wintry chill Flint had felt before came again, this time with a far greater intensity and carrying with it whispers of death. It was hard to ignore, so he focused on piloting the shuttle closer to the Takrivon. Three hundred metres from the Shuttle Bay 4 entrance, he brought his vessel to a halt, with its nose opposite the expected location of the doors.

“Try again.”

“I am, sir.”

“The negation pulse was created thirty-five seconds ago, sir,” said Fredericks.

“Plenty of time left,” said Flint. He tried to imagine a scenario in which the Takrivon’s experienced and battle-hardened crew might be unable to respond to the comms. The possibilities his brain conjured were unthinkable.

“Still nothing on the comms, sir,” said Burner. “If the Takrivon’s bridge is in zero-time, that would explain the lack of response.”

“Which would leave us screwed,” said Flint. “We need someone to accept the control software installation.”

“You can force the installation from one of the technician stations, sir,” said Fredericks. “You’ll need to enter your command codes.”

“We have to get inside first,” said Flint. “My command codes will work for that as well.”

He took his hands off the control bars and entered his codes into the pilot’s console. Once done, Flint issued them to the Takrivon’s open comms receiver.

“I’ve overridden the hull door controls and ordered them to open.”

“It’s happening,” said Larson.

“I’ll tell Lieutenant Vance to be ready for a quick exit,” said Burner.

“And then try the comms to the Takrivon again.”

“Yes, sir.”

The outer bay door sank into the battleship’s hull armour and then slid into its recess. Sending an additional override to the auto-docking computer would have cost precious seconds, so Flint piloted the shuttle manually. The vessel’s nose was tapered and it went in cleanly, but the tunnel dimensions didn’t leave much spare for the rest of the hull and he felt the transport glance off the inner wall. He cursed, though it was only his pride which was injured.

The final armoured door opened, and the shuttle entered the bay at speed. Decelerating at the last possible moment, Flint brought the vessel to a standstill adjacent to the docking platform.

“That’s a hundred seconds of negation,” said Fredericks, rising from his seat. “We made it to the Takrivon quicker than I expected.”

Flint didn’t respond. He was already through the cockpit door and heading down the steps. Along the corridor he sprinted, without checking behind.

Entering the passenger bay, Flint found it already empty, with the soldiers and everyone else already passing through the airlock. Both doors were open again, allowing the occupants to exit quickly.

“Come on, sir,” said Private Drawl, pausing at the back of the pack to wave Flint and his crew on.

The encouragement wasn’t needed, and Flint dashed across the airlock onto the platform outside. What he noticed first was the hollow drone of the annihilator’s engines in superstress. It was a sound like the strongest of winds blowing along a narrow canyon.

At that moment, Lieutenant Fredericks confronted him with a development which had potentially terrible ramifications.

“Sir, I’m still linked to the Nightfall’s monitoring tools via my suit computer and the negation pulse is failing.”

“In which case we need to act fast,” said Flint, his feet already moving towards the exit door further along the platform. Soldiers clustered around it, evidently awaiting his command before venturing further into the Takrivon.

“No, sir, that’s not what I’m saying,” said Fredericks. “The Takrivon is no longer within the radius of the pulse.”

That brought Flint up short, and a sudden fear gnawed in the pit of his stomach. “The Takrivon isn’t in zero-time,” he said.

“And since that’s not because of our negation pulse, it mustn’t have been in zero-time all the while we’ve been in the Vilekron’s holding bay,” said Larson.

“Lieutenant Burner, have you received a confirmation response from anyone on this warship?” Flint asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

“No, sir. Now we’re onboard I can interface directly with the internal comms and check the status of the data we sent – I’m doing it now.”

“Sir, is there a problem?” asked Vance on a separate channel.

“Maybe. Please hold in this bay, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve interfaced with the Takrivon’s comms system,” said Burner. “The data we sent is in the received queue, but it hasn’t been opened.”

It was the confirmation Flint hadn’t wanted. “Captain Vazox and his crew—”

“Dead,” said Larson bitterly. “Killed before we arrived. And the Kilvar might be still onboard.”

“That seems like a good bet, Commander.” All the Frenziol in the world wouldn’t have been enough to shield Flint from the feeling of utter despair which had descended upon him. He didn’t have the capacity for surrender and an inner strength held him steady. “Lieutenant Fredericks, can we still send the necessary commands to the Nightfall?” he asked.

“To switch it out of superstress?” Fredericks went quiet for a moment. “The Nightfall’s negation pulse would need to extend as far as the normal time area of the bay. If that’s the case, we could send the instruction over the comms.”

“Is there any way to be sure if the negation pulse is large enough to bridge the gap?”

“No, sir, not without knowing how much of the bay is in normal time.”

“What will happen if the negation pulse fails entirely and the Nightfall returns to zero-time?”

“Either the exium module will gather enough energy to fire a new, smaller pulse, in which case the propulsion switchover command will activate, or the exium module doesn’t gather enough energy and the Nightfall is left frozen in superstress.”

“I’m trying to look on the bright side, Lieutenant. I was asking what will happen if the Nightfall’s propulsion detonates while it’s trapped in the middle of zero-time?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, sir.” Fredericks shrugged. “But the longer we wait—”

Flint nodded, his decision made. “Send the command, Lieutenant. A twenty-minute timer should be enough for us to try and succeed or to try and fail.”

“Twenty minutes it is, sir. Command sent.”

Flint switched comms channel immediately. “Lieutenant Vance, we have reason to believe the crew of this warship have been killed by our enemy. It’s likely Kilvar troops are still onboard.”

“This is a big warship, sir,” said Vance, stepping out from the cluster around the exit door. He didn’t need to spell it out further – a vessel the size of the Takrivon would require a huge deployment of troops to storm. While the annihilator wasn’t carrying hundreds of personnel, the Kilvar certainly didn’t know that, and they’d have filled its interior with soldiers.

“If we don’t recapture the Takrivon, we’ve come to the end of the road,” said Flint. “And if we don’t manage it in twenty minutes, the Nightfall’s propulsion is going to switch back into a six-thousand-percent level of overstress and we don’t want to be around to witness the outcome.”

“In which case, let’s re-take this warship,” said Vance. He paused in thought. “Are there any shortcuts I should know about? Maybe some hidden corridors the technicians use during testing?”

“I’ll check,” said Flint. “But the timer’s counting down and I can’t stop it.”

“We’ll get started, sir. Permission to take command?”

“I won’t tread on your toes, Lieutenant.”

At once, Vance turned and began issuing orders to his platoon, his voice bellowing and showing no traces of fear. The soldiers were already on full alert, but they seemed to snap into an even greater focus.

Flint diverted his attention to the internal plans for the Takrivon. Using his suit computer, he located them in the annihilator’s databanks and downloaded the files. On the plans, he located numerous passages that weren’t intended for use by on-duty personnel. The problem was, those tunnels weren’t anywhere near Shuttle Bay 4.

“Lieutenant Vance, none of those corridors you were asking about are accessed from nearby. We’ll pass the first entrance when we’re a third of the way to the bridge.”

“By that time, we’ll have a good idea what we’re facing, sir. We’re moving out.”

As Vance spoke the words, he planted a hand on the access panel for the bay exit door. He was first out, darting through the opening with his Rodan held across his chest. Private Rendos – carrying an MG-12 repeater - and Private Steigers were right behind him.

“Twenty minutes are down to seventeen,” said Maddox.

“I had to pick a figure and it was twenty minutes,” snapped Flint. He took a breath. “Now, we’re going to stay close to those soldiers and do as we’re told.” He had one ear listening in to the platoon channel, where Vance was reporting no sign of hostiles.

“I can shoot straight enough,” said Copeland.

“We all can, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “Out in the open, our shooting skills would be appreciated. Storming a warship is a specialist job.”

In squads, the remaining soldiers exited the bay. A few made uneasy comments on the platoon channel until Sergeant Tagra ordered them into silence. Corporal Charnos was last out and he beckoned silently for Flint and his crew to follow.

The moment he stepped out of the bay, Flint was struck by the same feeling of wrongness which had evidently afflicted the soldiers ahead. Nothing was visually out of the ordinary and the air carried the same odours as every other fleet warship. And yet, there was a vileness on the Takrivon that didn’t reveal itself to his normal senses.

“The soldiers think there’s another Galkintor,” said Fredericks.

“I heard what Lieutenant Vance said about the one he fought on the Ancidium,” said Flint. “Nothing that big would fit inside the tunnels of this warship.”

“Something came here and I hope it’s long gone,” said Larson.

For the first time since he’d met Larson, Flint saw real fear in her eyes.

“Me too,” he said.

The exit passage led to an intersection and Charnos was waiting. Again he beckoned, making Flint think of a spirit leading the damned ever closer to a place of eternal suffering. By the time he reached the intersection, Charnos had already gone, heading left towards the annihilator’s bridge.

Entering the next corridor, Flint scanned for corpses, even though the soldiers had reported none. He sprinted to the intersection ahead and paused while he checked around the corner.

Once more, Charnos was there, twenty-five metres along the passage. At the sight of Flint, he didn’t beckon and simply resumed his sprint after the others. None of the other soldiers were currently in sight and, if Flint hadn’t heard them talking on the comms, he’d have wondered if they’d all simply vanished.

The distance from Shuttle Bay 4 to the bridge was about five hundred metres and the most direct route went past one of the bunk rooms as well as the warship’s second mess area. Flint was sure Vance wouldn’t pause his advance to investigate these places, but he guessed the soldiers would be able to spot anything wrong without having to break stride.

“Got some bodies,” said Vance on the comms. His breathing was laboured, which suggested he’d been running flat-out for the last hundred metres.

“Want me to stop and look, sir?” asked Corporal Suzy Hendrix.

“Negative, Corporal.” The tightness in Vance’s voice was clearly representative of his anger. “We keep going until I say otherwise.”

“Got another two, sir,” said Steigers. “Both Daklan.”

“We’re not here to count the dead, Private,” said Vance. “We have thirteen minutes to secure our survival. We’ll deal with all this other shit afterwards.”

Listening to the conversation, Flint felt his own anger growing and he’d need it when he saw the bodies. His feet hit the ground harder, and his breathing deepened. Here and there, he began to notice the platoon soldiers, either positioned along the side turnings, or in the main passage. They watched Flint and his crew pass, and not once did they speak.

After a time, Flint estimated he was less than two hundred metres from the bridge and he craved to be there, yet he also dreaded what he might find.

“Where are the Kilvar?” asked Private Faye Raven. “I mean, I’m not complaining about it, but, you know—”

“If they are here, they will find us soon enough,” said Sergeant Tagra.

Flint passed the door leading into the bunk room and it was still closed. He didn’t stop. Not much further, he came to the turning leading into the mess area and here he slowed only a fraction and looked into the room. He saw the two bodies, face down at the same table, and the sight of them made Flint feel neither better nor worse.

“Approaching the bridge steps,” said Vance.

“There should be a minigun at the top,” said Flint, hoping Vance would come across a pile of chewed-up Kilvar remains.

“If there is, it didn’t kill anything, sir,” said Vance. “I’m standing at the bottom of the steps. I can see the minigun, but nothing else. I won’t have access to open the bridge door.”

“I’m not far,” said Flint.

He kept up the pace. Flint wasn’t nearly ready to believe the Takrivon was deserted, but the lack of visible Kilvar activity was a relief. Not until he entered the final corridor leading to the bridge did he catch up with Corporal Charnos, even though the comms pack the soldier was carrying must have weighed thirty pounds on top of his usual loadout.

Flint estimated that no more than half of the platoon was in the passage, which meant he’d ran headlong past others on the way here that he hadn’t noticed – soldiers left to watch him and his crew.

He found Vance, along with Private Rendos, on the platform at the top of the bridge steps. Above their heads, the minigun hung from its ceiling turret, its high-velocity bullets apparently no defence against the Kilvar attack on the Takrivon.

“I’ve ordered my crew to stay below,” said Flint.

“Is it wise for you to activate the door, sir” asked Vance.

“I might be the only one who can do it,” said Flint. “Until I can get onto the bridge and modify the access security files.”

Vance didn’t like it, that much was clear from his expression. “Maybe someone else, sir?” he asked. “If they can’t do it, then you try.”

“There are no Kilvar on the bridge, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “If I’m wrong, you’ll be in safe hands with Commander Larson.”

“Yes, sir.”

Given the confines of the landing, the options for preparation were limited. Private Rendos already had his MG-12 deployed and Vance called for Private Stanar to bring up his shoulder launcher.

“Let’s do this,” said Flint.

Keeping himself pressed to the side wall, he reached out and touched his hand against the bridge door access panel.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The door opened and Flint readied himself for gunfire. It didn’t come and, after a couple of seconds, Vance sprinted into the room, his Rodan shotgun held ready.

“Clear,” he announced. A pause. “Everyone’s dead.”

Flint’s heart fell at the news, even though he’d known it was coming. He pushed himself away from the wall and entered the bridge. The bulkhead screen was lit up and the feeds were mostly of the bay walls, with others showing the Nightfall.

Eleven of the Takrivon’s crew had been on the bridge when it happened, whatever it was. Not all of the Daklan were at their stations – most had fallen to the floor and, as Flint advanced into the bridge, he saw that one of the comms officers had her hands raised as if she were fending off a blow. Her eyes, which had doubtless been a wondrous green in life, were dull and empty, and her dusky skin was shrivelled and tight against her skull.

“Looks just like Private Arnold,” said Flint, remembering the soldier who’d died to a Kilvar attack on the Amber base at the beginning of the war.

“Same with these other ones,” said Vance, stooping over a corpse on the far side of the propulsion station.

Flint didn’t want to be here but he ordered his crew to move up, his voice sounding as dead as the officers around him.

“Sir?” asked Vance, his voice unusually quiet. He was next to the command station. “Is this Captain Vazox?”

Flint realised he’d never met his opposite number, though he recognized the Daklan from the file images he’d looked through. Even in death and with his life energies extracted, Vazox looked strong and defiant, and his features spoke of his fury when he’d known the end was coming.

“Oh shit,” said Becerra from the bridge entrance.

Steeling himself, Flint turned. “We can’t let this affect us. If we do, the Kilvar will have beaten all of us here without firing a shot, or sending in one of their damned life-sucking abominations.” He raised his voice. “Lieutenant Vance, we have less than ten minutes before the Nightfall’s engines enter overstress – clear these bodies away, so my crew and I can take our stations.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vance started pulling Captain Vazox from the command seat at the same time as he barked orders into the comms. Flint hooked his hands beneath the Daklan’s shoulders and helped to drag him clear. Even drained of life, Vazox was heavy, and the effort made Flint gasp for breath.

He took the captain’s chair. It was oversized and his feet hardly brushed the floor, and when he was sitting, the control panels were too far away. A frustrating twenty seconds later, Flint had adjusted the seating position so that everything was a comfortable distance.

With that done, he ran a quick check of the instrumentation. An audit of the Takrivon’s onboard systems would likely tell a tale of what had happened to the annihilator, but for now, Flint was content to note that everything was in good order – far more so than it was on the Nightfall.

“Status reports!” he ordered. “We’re getting out of here once I know everything’s ready to go.”

“No problems on the engines, sir,” said Fredericks. “I can see a few recorded anomalies, but nothing that has me worried.”

“The base engine power level is high,” said Flint, looking at the gauge on his console.

“It’s not nearly as elevated as it was on the Nightfall, sir.”

“The sensors and comms are fully-functional, sir,” Burner reported. “Do you want me to install the beta control software we sent to the Takrivon?”

“Do it,” said Flint. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to start playing around with stasis fields again, but he’d prefer to have the option, just in case.

“Beta software installed, complete with Lieutenant Fredericks’ modifications, sir,” Burner confirmed.

“Give the word and I’ll create the biggest stasis negation sphere you ever saw,” said Fredericks.

“Hold for now, Lieutenant,” said Flint dryly.

“Sir, the sensors are picking up noises from the bay,” said Becerra. “Listen to this.”

A boom followed by a rumble came through the bridge speakers. Both sounds died off and then repeated. A third booming overlapped the second before it had faded.

“The Vilekron is in combat,” said Flint in realisation. “It’s firing its weapons.”

“Is that a good sign or a bad sign?” asked Maddox.

“I don’t know,” said Flint.

The sense of urgency built within him and he felt ready to burst with the pent-up frustration, anger and every other emotion which had accumulated inside him during the mission. Whatever engagement the Vilekron was involved with, he was desperate to be part of it and that wasn’t happening while the Takrivon remained in the holding bay.

“Commander Larson, are our weapons online and available?” he asked.

In the seat adjacent, Larson was staring at her screens. On the floor behind her was the corpse of the previous occupant, the name of whom none of them might ever learn.

“Our weapons systems are ready to go, sir,” she confirmed. “No hardware failures reported.”

“I can’t find anything stopping us from activating an SRT, sir,” said Lieutenant Copeland. “All the monitoring tools suggest the Takrivon is in perfect working order, aside from the elevated base power level.”

“Are we blowing a hole in this enemy ship or are we going out by mode 3, sir?” asked Larson.

Flint opened his mouth to respond, when a vast grey object appeared on the sensor feeds. Commander Larson swore loudly.

“Sir, a Kilvar warship just appeared in the bay alongside us,” said Burner, his voice calm. “It’s a big one and it only just fits.”

“Shit,” said Flint. The enemy ship wasn’t one of the usual diamond-shaped vessels and more closely resembled a superlifter. Its hull obscured the sensors, but Flint guessed the spaceship’s nose and stern were almost touching opposite sides of the bay. “Why now?”

“Time to leave, sir,” said Larson.

“And soon,” said Maddox. “Maybe they’ve come to extract our exium modules or to send some troops onboard the Nightfall and Takrivon.”

Flint was no longer sure the Kilvar needed to bother with a deployment in order to extract life, and he wondered if the enemy had manipulated their stasis fields inside the Vilekron’s bay to allow them to storm the Takrivon.

He tapped the edge of the tactical screen to prepare a maximum-duration SRT. It was tempting to order a Terrus attack on the adjacent warship, but Flint didn’t want to chance any action that might damage the Nightfall and prevent its engines detonating. Or whatever the hell they’d do when they re-entered overstress.

“Six minutes left on the timer,” said Fredericks.

Flint rested his finger on the SRT button. The Takrivon would require a little forward velocity for the mode 3 to activate, but he had enough room ahead.

“If we leave now, won’t the Kilvar realise that something is wrong?” asked Becerra.

“What are they going to do about it?” asked Garrett.

“I don’t know,” said Becerra. “Something unpredictable.”

The question was enough to give Flint pause. “The Kilvar might do something unpredictable if we leave, but they’ll definitely do something predictable if we stay.” He gripped the control bars. “Hold on tight folks, we’re getting out of here.”

Flint pressed the mode 3 activation button, and the expecting sickening lurch of the double transitions didn’t come. Such was his surprise that he thought for a moment the SRT had failed. The blank sensor feeds were the first indication that the lightspeed jump had worked as intended. Flint didn’t think about it for longer than a split second. He requested maximum from the engines and the Takrivon accelerated blind into the void.

“Let’s see what’s on those sensors,” he said, watching the bulkhead screens to find out what would appear.

“Sensors coming online,” said Burner. “Uh, the arrays are seeing into both phases.”

“You weren’t expecting that?” asked Flint.

“I forgot to make the alterations while we were in the Vilekron’s holding bay, sir. It seems like the Takrivon’s crew already made them for me.”

The near and far scans came back clear, and the Takrivon’s positioning system placed the battleship far outside the Landnir system.

“We made it,” said Maddox in disbelief.

“Not all of us,” said Flint.

“I know that, sir, but some is better than none. This time we’re the lucky ones.”

Flint wasn’t in the mood to argue and in truth, he didn’t have an argument to offer – Maddox was only telling it like it was.

“We made it for now,” said Garrett. “I reckon we have about three minutes before the Vilekron and the Limborus show up again.”

“And the Vilekron has not much more than three minutes before the Nightfall’s engines go critical,” said Fredericks.

“I’m not sure the Vilekron will be following us any time soon,” said Flint. “Not until its engagement is decided.”

“Maybe we should go and take a look,” said Larson.

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking, Commander.”

“Do we need to take the risk, sir?” asked Maddox. “I’m not saying I’m against it, but if the Vilekron is going to blow up anyway, do we need to offer it a chance to destroy the Takrivon beforehand?”

“I have a feeling we’re missing out on something significant,” said Flint. “And if we don’t act, we’ll always look back and wonder why we didn’t.”

“Straight back into the fight, then?” asked Becerra.

“I think so,” said Flint. “Lieutenant Fredericks, I don’t want this warship being placed in stasis again. Make sure we’re creating our own negation sphere like before.”

“Yes, sir. Do you want us to create the outer stasis sphere as well as the negation sphere?”

“That didn’t work out too well for the exium module on the Nightfall.”

“No, sir.”

“Let’s just have the negation sphere for the moment, Lieutenant. Be ready to activate the slow time sphere if necessary.”

“Negation sphere active,” said Fredericks a few moments later. “Our engine base level is rising.”

“Are we approaching the engagement in phase shift, sir?” asked Larson.

“Yes,” said Flint. “I’d like to test out the Terrus-V guns for myself.”

“Our energy shield will likely be tested as well, sir,” said Maddox. “If we’re the only warship in phase shift along with the Vilekron, we’ll make a good target.”

“That’s something we’ll deal with when the time comes,” said Flint. His hand went to the tactical, ready to enter an SRT destination. “I’m aiming for an arrival point two million klicks from where we departed. That should give us enough time to recover from sensor blindness and hopefully the Vilekron’s crew will be distracted enough that they won’t notice us.”

“Less than two minutes until the Nightfall’s engines return to overstress, sir,” said Fredericks. “We probably don’t want to be too close when it happens.”

“If they’re going to detonate, will it happen immediately?” asked Flint.

“I don’t know, sir. I expect a critical chain reaction will occur and that might take a few seconds.”

“We’re not delaying any longer,” said Flint. “Activating SRT.”

The Takrivon’s double transition was smooth and caused Flint no pain whatsoever.

“Sensors coming online!” said Burner.

Flint muttered under his breath and watched the bulkhead screen. All the while, he held the control bars at the ends their runners and he could sense the annihilator’s velocity increasing.

“Sensors up!” shouted Burner. “Commencing normal and phase shifted near scans!”

“Fars underway,” said Becerra.

“Stars and darkness,” said Larson. “What’s happening out there?”

“Nears finished and nothing to report,” said Burner. “Switching to the fars.”

“Vilekron located!” yelled Becerra. “Range: one-point-five million klicks.”

The Kilvar command vessel was travelling fast on a slightly divergent course to that of the Takrivon. Flint stared, trying to stay in control of his hatred. He was certain the huge warship was discharging its weapons, but on the feed, he could see no evidence of it.

“Terrus-V and Terrus-IV guns set to auto-track and are available to fire, sir,” said Larson.

“Crap on stick!” said Garrett. “Everything’s gone crazy in normal phase. Feeds on the screen.”

Gone crazy was putting it mildly, Flint reckoned. Way out in the furthest reaches of the Landnir system, a space battle of epic proportions was taking place. For a moment, he could only stare, wondering what the hell he’d brought upon himself and his crew this time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The feeds made it difficult to grasp the extent of what was taking place, but Flint saw dozens upon dozens of warships, banking and twisting through space. The hulls of some displayed patches of plasma heat, while others burned fiercely like they were about to break up. Elsewhere, Flint spotted molten debris – a trillion tons and more - which left trails of glittering white sparks as the pieces spun uncontrollably through the darkness.

“How many?” asked Copeland.

“158 tracked so far,” said Burner. “I’m expecting that total to double or more when the scans are finished.”

“Ninety confirmed as Kilvar in origin,” said Becerra. “The rest are Lavorix.”

The engagement was mesmerising, and it was hard for Flint to tear his gaze away. He divided his attention between the feeds and everything else he had to deal with, though his eyes kept jumping to the bulkhead screen. A Kilvar vessel detonated into particles and a Lavorix warship raced through the dissipating cloud, ballistic tracers spraying from its hull in a hundred different directions. That same Lavorix ship was struck moments later by what must have been fifteen or twenty high-yield warheads, ripping it into pieces.

“Sir, are we launching an attack on the Vilekron?” asked Larson.

“No – not yet,” said Flint. “Too much is happening for us to jump in with both feet. Maintain a Terrus-V lock and be ready for my command.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Limborus is active in the arena,” said Burner. “It’s under heavy bombardment.”

With its shield dark and wreathed in plasma, the Limborus flew imperiously through the engagement. Streaks of orange missile propulsions sped away from its hull, and red particle beams lanced out with barely a second between each discharge.

“Total warship count now stands at 231 and climbing,” said Becerra. “128 confirmed as Kilvar.”

“The Kilvar had more than three hundred warships at Gimbeze alone,” said Flint. “This must be only a fraction of the Fifth Seeking’s total.”

“We don’t know how long we’ve been away from events in normal time, sir,” said Larson. “We could have been stuck in zero-time for a month, and this battle might have been raging for days.”

“Less than thirty seconds on the Nightfall’s propulsion timer, sir,” said Fredericks.

“Sensor lock on the Terragar!” yelled Burner. “It’s taken a beating.”

The seventh Law of Ancidium’s energy shield was alight with plasma, and particle beams stabbed into it from every direction. At some point, the Terragar’s shield must have failed, since its hull was pocked with heat-rimmed craters, and one of the warship’s visible guns was white hot and bent at a near right-angle. That energy shield had recharged now and on came the Lavorix capital ship, its destroyer cannons firing as rapidly as they recharged, each shot producing massive recoil on the barrel and each shot eliminating another Kilvar vessel.

“The Vilekron is targeting the Terragar,” said Burner.

“Tol-Ga-Eld’s shield isn’t going to last much longer,” said Larson.

“The combatant count now stands at 312,” said Becerra. “I think that’s most of the total. 185 are Kilvar.”

“Not good odds for the Lavorix,” said Maddox. “Especially when they can’t land a shot on the Vilekron.”

“The timer is at zero seconds, sir,” said Fredericks. “If a detonation is going to happen, it’ll be soon.”

A check of the tactical informed Flint of the distance between the Takrivon and the Vilekron.

One-point-three million klicks. That’s got to be enough.

He held course, watching the phase shifted sensor feeds and willing the Kilvar command vessel to explode into pieces. Ten seconds passed and then twenty.

“Why isn’t it happening, Lieutenant Fredericks?”

“I don’t know, sir. A critical chain reaction shouldn’t take long to occur.”

“Less time than this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Lavorix are losing more warships than the Kilvar, sir,” said Burner. “I don’t know if they’d win this fight even with the Vilekron out of the picture.”

Flint swore and cursed his enemy. Still the Vilekron didn’t explode, and he wondered what the hell had gone wrong. Maybe this was all based on the incorrect premise that the Nightfall’s propulsion couldn’t handle being switched back into such a high level of overstress.

“We could engage the Vilekron and find out what its crew think about Terrus-V slugs hitting their energy shield,” said Maddox. “And what if it doesn’t even have an energy shield, what with it being phase shifted and all?”

“It’ll be shielded,” said Flint. The Terrus-V guns were incredibly potent, but he didn’t expect them to break through the Vilekron’s defences in a handful of shots, and he certainly didn’t expect the Kilvar would give him an extended opportunity to bombard them.

“We have to do something, sir,” said Garrett.

“Suggestions like that don’t help one little bit, Lieutenant,” said Larson. “Keep them to yourself.”

Flint had a sudden thought. “What if the Nightfall’s negation pulses failed entirely?” he asked.

“Everything would be in zero-time,” said Fredericks at once. “The detonation wouldn’t take place.”

“That’s what must have happened,” said Flint. “Damnit!”

As he spoke, the Takrivon’s shield was struck by a massive blast from an energy weapon. The gauges on Flint’s console jumped around and the base power level jumped upwards.

“Shit, they’ve detected us,” he said. “Hit them with the Terrus guns.”

“Terrus-V guns T1 and T3: fired,” said Larson at once.

The boom of discharge rolled through the bridge a split-second later and four near-lightspeed projectiles streaked across the intervening space. With the disdain of the ever-victorious, the Vilekron held its course, and four seconds after they exited the barrel, the Terrus-V slugs crashed into the Kilvar warship’s energy shield.

“Waiting on reload,” said Larson.

“We won’t live long enough for another salvo,” Flint said. With sudden clarity, he knew what he had to do. His hand darted out and his finger touched upon the red dot of the Vilekron. “Mode 3,” he said.

The Takrivon went in and out of lightspeed and again, he felt none of the usual ill-effects. Straightaway, he gave the warship everything and its engines responded, hurling it away from its arrival place.

“Waiting on sensors!” said Burner.

“Lieutenant Fredericks, we need a stasis negation sphere!” yelled Flint. “The biggest one possible!”

“Now, sir?”

“When I tell you!”

“Sensors online,” said Burner. “We are five thousand klicks from the Vilekron.”

Flint saw it and banked towards the enemy command vessel. It hadn’t changed course and its velocity was low, presumably so it could remain close to the engagement happening in normal phase. Before the Takrivon could close the gap, a second energy weapon detonated against its energy shield and this time, Flint sensed the annihilator’s defences were near to collapse.

Undeterred, he held course and the gap between the two vessels plummeted as the Takrivon’s velocity increased.

“Now!” shouted Flint, the moment the Vilekron was within a thousand kilometres. “Create the negation sphere now!”

“Negation sphere generated,” said Fredericks. “The radius is three thousand klicks - enough to encompass the entire enemy warship, sir. The holding bay should be out of zero-time as long as we remain close by.”

“We’re going to be killed!” said Copeland.

Flint didn’t know one way or another, but he was sure this was the only chance to defeat the Vilekron and to avenge Captain Vazox and his crew.

Suddenly, a flash of pure, impenetrable darkness blocked out every single feed. Flint was ready for it and he returned the Takrivon into normal phase as quickly as his brain could send the instruction to his finger.

It wasn’t a race his reactions could win. The bridge alarms went off and the electronic monitoring tools jumped around, showing readings higher than Flint had ever seen before. An ocean of red lights indicated that many of the onboard systems had failed completely.

Over everything else was a sound unlike anything Flint had heard before – it was a roar like a million caged beasts and it was coming from the engines.

“We’re back in overstress,” said Flint. Normal conversation was impossible, so he used the comms in his suit helmet. “Four thousand percent!” He tested the controls. The Takrivon’s propulsion howled like it was about to explode and the velocity gauge climbed rapidly.

“Our exium module failed!” said Fredericks. “That single blast depleted it entirely!”

“Fifty percent of our sensor arrays have failed,” said Burner.

“Use the ones which haven’t,” growled Flint. “I need to know where we are and what’s happening out there.”

“We’re somewhere on the edges of the battle between the Kilvar and the Lavorix, sir!” said Becerra.

“Our hull is a mess,” said Garrett. “We must have lost all of our armour on the side facing the explosion!”

Flint checked the feed quickly. The Takrivon’s starboard flank was a ragged mess, like it had been dissolved in the strongest of acids, and particles of corroded alloy formed a thousand-kilometre trail behind the battleship. He guessed the annihilator had lost ten billion tons of its mass and yet the warship showed no signs it was breaking up under the additional strains of acceleration.

“Damnit, we need an SRT!” said Flint. The option was greyed out on his console and another Code 95 had appeared on the status readout. His tactical was covered in red and orange dots and he had no idea if anyone was targeting his warship.

“I’m checking out the fault, sir,” said Fredericks. “I might be able to re-route – no guarantees.”

“Do what you can,” said Flint. “Commander Larson, what’s the status on our weapons and countermeasures?” he asked.

“We’ve lost both Terrus-IV turrets and one of the Terrus-Vs. Seventy percent of our starboard and topside missile clusters are out of action, along with eighty percent of the countermeasures.”

“Inbound enemy missiles detected at a half-million klicks, sir,” said Burner. “Ten total.”

Flint saw them on the tactical, coming towards the Takrivon’s rear portside. He banked to bring more of the portside countermeasures into play.

“Railers set to full auto,” said Larson. “Disruptor drones ejected. Shock pulse unavailable.”

“A second Kilvar vessel has targeted us and launched, sir. Range: four hundred thousand klicks,” said Garrett a moment later.

“Couldn’t we just, for once, get a damned break!” shouted Bolan.

“Enemy vessel targeted,” said Larson. “Portside hellburner clusters one to nine: fired.”

As a third enemy warship locked onto the Takrivon, Flint felt a sadness for his crew and for the imminent loss of this proud warship. However, the Vilekron was gone and that was an accomplishment they could carry to their graves with the greatest of pride. He recalled Larson’s words from earlier – spoken during the shuttle journey to the Nightfall.

Statistical analysis indicates that the improbable victories carry an exceptional weighting in determining the outcome of a war.

The memory made Flint smile. “Lieutenant Fredericks, this would be the perfect time for you to announce the availability of an SRT.”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Two missile impacts imminent,” said Larson. “Terrus-V cannons locked onto the scumbags who launched them! Fired!”

Miraculously, the twin guns discharged without ripping the turret off the annihilator’s hull. A moment later, the enemy missiles exploded against the warship’s stern, their plasma flashes bright enough to make Flint narrow his eyes.

The railers smashed all bar one of the next incoming wave into pieces and the final warhead exploded not far from the first two. Plates of blazing alloy were torn off and hurled away like a hundred meteors, each spitting millions of beautiful, decaying sparks as they tumbled into infinity.

In the face of the inevitable, the Takrivon’s crew didn’t falter, and they continued their duties. It wasn’t going to be enough, but Flint felt honoured to have served with these officers, and with the soldiers in their quarters below who were going to die without having ever been able to influence the outcome.

“We’ve got another incoming wave of missiles, sir. Fifteen total,” said Larson. “Make that thirty total. We must have a target on our forehead.”

The red dots sped across the tactical, the missiles’ guidance systems adjusting to follow the evasive manoeuvres of the Takrivon.

“Lieutenant Fredericks?”

“Not yet, sir.”

Fredericks was among the best, but it seemed like this time he was going to be too late. Leaving the man to his work, Flint scanned his instrumentation, looking for something he might have overlooked – an option that would turn things around.

No such option presented itself, but right before Flint’s eyes, an orange dot emerged from an SRT onto the tactical, less than ten thousand kilometres from the Takrivon. The vessel was huge and it accelerated immediately, before its sensor blindness was over. To Flint’s astonishment, the orange dot turned green, indicating the annihilator’s battle computer had identified it as a friendly.

“What the hell?”

“Sensor lock on the new arrival,” said Burner. “It’s the Ixidar!”

The arrival of the Destroyer left Flint momentarily dumbfounded, but not so much that he didn’t recognize he’d been cast a lifeline. He threw the Takrivon into the hardest turn it would manage, and kept his gaze on the feeds. The one and only time he’d seen the Ixidar, it had been in a trench on the Hakarul military base, yet here it was, an eighteen-thousand-metre cube equipped with six disintegration cannons - each having a larger bore even than those on the Terragar.

“It’s Fleet Admiral Recker!” shouted Burner. “Fly as close as you can, sir! The Ixidar’s shield will protect us!”

The Ixidar’s had colossal mass, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t agile. It accelerated across the intervening distance, tumbling erratically as it went. A half-dozen Kilvar missiles intended for the Takrivon exploded against the Ixidar’s shield and, straight after, the next incoming wave disappeared from the tactical.

“Fleet Recker is on the open channel, sir,” said Burner.

“You’re in a bad way, Captain Flint.”

“Only my warship, sir. Thank you for the interception. We destroyed the Vilekron.”

“I know – you’ve given us a chance,” said Recker. “This is not a good time for talking. The Ixidar is a magnet for the enemy and I can’t protect you for long.”

“SRT available, sir,” said Fredericks in the background, the tiredness in his voice indicating how much he’d poured into making it work.

“We’re leaving now, sir,” said Flint, requesting a maximum duration SRT. This time, no Code 95 error appeared. “Good luck.”

If Recker answered, Flint didn’t know about it. The Takrivon’s entry into lightspeed cut the channel and once again, the double transits affected him not at all. When the sensors came online, the annihilator was in empty space. Flint closed his eyes for a moment and wished more than anything, that he was back in the Landnir system, unloading missiles into the Kilvar fleet.

The Fifth Seeking

The battle was hard fought, but, in the end, the Kilvar Fifth Seeking had no answer to the supreme destructive prowess of the Ixidar and the Terragar. For almost eighteen hours, Recker remained at his station, as he, in combination with the Lavorix fleet, hunted down the last of the Kilvar warships and turned them into dust or flames.

The Limborus was one of the last to go and it had taken all of Recker’s guile and experience to finish off the enemy capital ship, and without the assistance of Tol-Ga-Eld and the Terragar, he wasn’t sure how the engagement would have ended. Perhaps the biggest surprise was that the Kilvar crew had allowed their warship to be defeated, rather than heading off into lightspeed at the last moment. Perhaps there was a lesson to be learned from that, Recker thought.

When it was over, the enemy had lost perhaps fifty trillion tons, which was a greater tonnage than the entire alliance fleet.

So, it was a victory, Recker told himself, thanks in no small part to the actions of Captain Vazox and Captain Flint. The death of the former was a hard blow to take, since he’d been a personal friend of Recker’s, and, he wasn’t too proud to admit, possessed of greater raw skill than anyone else in the alliance.

Still, with the loss of their Fifth Seeking, perhaps the Kilvar would focus their efforts on other prey in their search for ascendancy. Recker didn’t believe it for a minute and even if he’d thought it might be true, he knew the Kilvar had to be stopped.

And in his heart, he knew the alliance and the Lavorix together were the most likely to achieve this most unlikely of goals.

* * *

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Other Science Fiction Books by Anthony James

Survival Wars (Seven Books) – Available in eBook, Paperback and Audio.

Crimson Tempest

Bane of Worlds

Chains of Duty

Fires of Oblivion

Terminus Gate

Guns of the Valpian

Mission: Nemesis

Obsidiar Fleet (Six Books – set after the events in Survival Wars) – Available in eBook and Paperback.

Negation Force

Inferno Sphere

God Ship

Earth’s Fury

Suns of the Aranol

Mission: Eradicate

The Transcended (Seven Books – set after the events in Obsidiar Fleet) – Available in eBook, Paperback and Audio.

Augmented

Fleet Vanguard

Far Strike

Galaxy Bomb

Void Blade

Monolith

Mission: Destructor

Fire and Rust (Seven Books) – Available in eBook, Paperback and Audio.

Iron Dogs

Alien Firestorm

Havoc Squad

Death Skies

Refuge 9

Nullifier

Scum of the Universe

Anomalies (Two Books) – Available in eBook and Paperback.

Planet Wreckers

Assault Amplified

Savage Stars (Seven Books) – Available in eBook and Paperback

War from a Distant Sun

Fractured Horizons

Galactar

Fulcrum Gun

Laws of Ancidium

Empires in Ruin

Recker’s Chance