Renegades

by Dan Worth

Chapter 1

The gas giant hung heavy in the sky, bands of blue and purple cloud shifting imperceptibly, its pregnant orb bisected by the insubstantial arc of its rings as they caught the light from the white and red binary. Against this sedate background the small freighter corkscrewed violently, the manoeuvring thrusters around its waist firing urgently, main Newtonian drive straining as it attempted to flee from its pursuer. It was a minnow hunted by a leviathan. Inhibitor fields stretched out from the massive ship that pursued it - five kilometres astern and closing - disrupting the smaller craft’s drive envelope and preventing it from jumping to safety and out of reach of the ranks of anti-fighter batteries that probed outwards, striking sparks from the aft shields of the wildly manoeuvring ship.

A cloud of smaller points of light wove and danced about the fleeing craft. Squadrons of fighters launched from the belly of the great vessel harassed the freighter with laser and mass-driver fire that withered its shields still further and kept the fugitive vessel from fleeing from the arc of the warship’s guns, frustrating the freighter’s progress long enough with almost suicidal blocking manoeuvres for the ponderous warship to come about and re-acquire it.

Tractor beam generators powered up within the warship, eager to snatch the smaller ship and drag it into its waiting maw. It was close now, a mere four kilometres out of range. Soon the shields of the fleeing craft would collapse under the onslaught and its engines could be disabled. A renewed barrage of fire tracked inward toward the jinking shape.

Captain Caleb Isaacs swore prolifically as his ship, the Profit Margin, shook violently from the fresh onslaught. The War Temple was gaining on him. He cursed his rash decision to spend his last few thousand credits on a new paint job for his craft instead of getting the power-plant upgraded. Hurriedly, he re-routed more power from the front shield quarter to the aft as another series of blows hammered his ship and the display from his HUD monocle devolved into a series of tangled virtual contrails from the swarm of craft that buzzed about him as it attempted to display their intersecting trajectories.

He reversed the tight banking turn he had thrown the craft into, spinning it clockwise along its ventral axis. A loud clang from the cargo hold signalled that something down there had broken free of its restraints. It was accompanied by a series of squeals and terrified cries from the passenger quarters. But he had to keep moving. If he began to fly in any sort of predictable path the K’Soth capital ship would be able to lock all of its guns onto him with ease, not just the anti-fighter defences but the massive anti-ship turrets that studded the forward gun decks and then, one way or another, it would all be over.

Isaacs had few illusions about what the K’Soth aboard the War Temple Decimator would do to him even if he was merely captured, rather than having his ship blown from under him. The ship, resplendent in blood red livery, flew the war banners of clan Bloodtongue from the minarets along its superstructure. The squeals of fear from the Profit Margin’s passenger cabins were from the handful of desperate fugitives who were all that was left of clan Steelscale. They had sided against the murdered Emperor’s dynasty in the civil war, and they had paid the price for their treachery.

One of the smaller clans, Steelscale had been unable to defend themselves against the bellicose fury of the ruling clan Bloodtongue who had struck out at all enemies within reach following the assassination of the Emperor and the unsuccessful coup attempt resulting from the Empire’s failures in the war against the Commonwealth. The more powerful clans were still reeling from their failed attempt to seize power and were incapable of acting quickly enough to protect their more vulnerable allies, since they were pre-occupied with their own protection.

The Steelscale clan had perished in orbital bombardments, Inquisition-led purges and deep within the labyrinthine torture chambers beneath the Imperial Palace. Their estates - whole systems - had burned, their fleets were smashed, their females gang raped by the Praetorian Guard and their children torn apart by voracious wild animals from a dozen systems for the entertainment of the masses. If captured whilst in the process of aiding them and as a human enemy of the Empire, Isaacs could expect a death far worse than any rational person was capable of imagining. That thought preyed heavily on his mind as a fresh fusillade of shots found their mark against the faltering shields of his ship.

They were trying to communicate. Isaacs had blocked all transmissions from the War Temple, but somehow someone aboard had managed to override him. If that were the case, then who knew what else the crew of the Decimator were capable of doing to his ship? He began frantically trying to shut down the comm. altogether, or at least isolate it from the rest of the Profit Margin’s systems. With one hand on the stick, it was not easy.

‘Unidentified human ship,’ said the flat emotionless tones of the cheap translator program. ‘You are ordered to power down your vessel and surrender.’

‘Fuck you!’ screamed Isaac in the vague direction of the comm. system as he hauled the ship’s nose upwards and around into a complex barrel-roll manoeuvre at a tangent to the K’Soth warship’s heading. He flinched as a wing of interceptors swooped in to block his path then flipped the ship over and down away from the apparently suicidal fighters.

‘You are guilty of trespassing in Imperial space, of aiding and abetting known enemies of the Empire and of consorting with heretics, traitors and atheists. Surrender or be destroyed.’

No amount of money was worth this, though Isaacs. Blockade running fugitives out of the K’Soth Empire was lucrative - hell, every hotshot freelancer claimed to be at it these days – but the profit was in the danger money. More than a few other captains he knew had come here seeking their fortune and had not returned, but he’d been desperate, he thought he could handle it and the money for this run had been very good indeed. It was just a pity that it wouldn’t be of much use to him whilst a ship full of angry, reptilian, three-metre-tall religious fanatics were ripping out his innards, or whilst he was choking on vacuum amidst the expanding wreckage of his ship.

It been going so well too. He’d bought a black market stealth program for his ship’s computer that minimised its drive signature and he had managed to slip across the border unchallenged by either Commonwealth or Empire forces. He’d met his contact at an abandoned station orbiting the bruise coloured gas giant fifty light years inside hostile territory and had been preparing to leave with his passengers when the two kilometre long War Temple had jumped in almost right on top of him, having masked its approach behind the sensor interference caused by the flux tube between the gas giant and its largest moon.

He felt foolish. He should have done a passive sensor sweep through the gas giant’s system of moonlets before approaching the station. Then he’d have spotted the lurking behemoth before it was too late. Instead, his greed and anxiousness had got the better of him and he was reaping the rewards of his carelessness.

He felt the ship judder. Something squealed metallically down in the drive bay. Another barrage of shots and the aft shield collapsed. Warning klaxons rang in the cockpit. The ship shuddered again. They almost had him in their tractor beam. Again, the monotone voice:

‘Human terrorist. Your shields have failed you. Surrender or die. Now.’

He wasn’t done just yet. There were still reserves of power in the ship’s batteries and he could re-route more still from life support and the weapon systems

Something grabbed the ship and held it. Isaacs felt his bowels loosen as the ship bucked and fought like an animal caught by its tail. A cacophony of wailing sounded from the passenger cabins, whose occupants knew full well the doom that awaited them. The Decimator was dragging the Profit Margin towards it now. Even with the main engines at full burn it was no use. He was only delaying the inevitable.

Well fuck that, he thought, he wasn’t going to be tortured to death. If he had to die now he might as well take a few of the bastards with him. He could rig the ship’s power-plant to blow just as they dragged it inside their docking bay. Isaacs looked at the aft view-screen, and saw the cavernous bay in the underside of the warship’s superstructure opening to swallow his ship. He could just about see the serried ranks of fighters and assault craft inside. Yes, that would do nicely. Sweat trickling down his neck and forehead, he starting programming his own explosive demise into the ship’s systems, overriding repeated fail-safes and bypassing numerous warnings. Now with a press of a single icon on the touch-holo of the control console he could release the containment fields around the power core and create a miniature nova inside the maw of that monstrous vessel.

He felt a sense of grim satisfaction. He might have fucked up as a trader, the only thing he had ever excelled at aside from flying, but this

this was a real achievement. He was going to single-handedly take down a fucking K’Soth War Temple! It was just a pity that no-one else was around to witness it.

His hand hovered over the control console as the ship drew the Profit Margin towards itself. A little further

they were below the great gun decks now, a cloven delta-shaped plain of metal that thrust forward from the main superstructure, studded with heavy beam turrets and laser batteries that even now tracked his progress. Between them, the muzzle of the vessel’s main armament - a vast plasma cannon - jutted from the prow of the ship’s superstructure, a weapon capable of spitting a beam of star-hot death that could eviscerate even the sturdiest of opponents.

Another warning signal started to chime in the cockpit. Isaacs looked to his tactical display and saw a second K’Soth jump engine signature on an approach vector. It was coming in from above the Decimator at great speed. He peered upwards through the cockpit’s upper viewports, through the gap between the port and starboard gun decks of the warship. He saw space ripple and twist as a ship vaster still than the one that held him fast swam into view from hyperspace. Awestruck, he gawped at the four kilometre long monster as it charged head on, its braking engines firing spears of plasma. In their wan light he saw for a second the blue livery of clan Talon, the greatest of the houses leading the rebellion against the Emperor. The Super War Temple was theirs. Had they had come to aid their allies in this late hour?

His HUD lit up with icons around the gargantuan craft as power spiked within its weapon systems. A blinding spear of light and energy leapt from its hull, briefly joining the two K’Soth vessels as the shields of the Decimator collapsed spectacularly in a blaze of pyrotechnics. The Profit Margin’s systems tried to shield Isaac’s eyes from the glare with photochromic defences, but still the afterimage seared his retinas as the plasma bolt emerged from the skewered belly of the Decimator, a hundred metres aft of his position, in a shower of vaporised hull material, dragging with it a cloud of rapidly freezing atmosphere and the tiny tumbling bodies of the crew.

Isaacs suddenly came to his senses and realised that the tractor beam was no longer restraining his ship. Above him, the Decimator was starting to drift and come apart. A series of silent explosions shook the dying vessel, buffeting the Profit Margin with expanding shells of energy. Hurriedly, he cancelled the self destruct sequence he had programmed and gunned the engines, diving down and away from the stricken warship.

He couldn’t believe his luck. His heart pounding with fear and elation he engaged the Profit Margin’s jump drive for the long haul back to Commonwealth space. As the small sleek freighter vanished within a concentric series of hyperdimensional ripples the containment fields around the Decimator’s power plant finally failed, immolating the great ship in a blaze of plasma.

With the ship now safely within hyperspace, Isaacs gave up control to the ship’s guidance systems for the long haul home. With a heartfelt sigh of relief he removed the HUD monocle, now slick with sweat where it had touched his skin, stowed it beneath the control console and got up from his command couch. He realised then that his legs were shaking, and that his clothes clung to him with sweat.

Steadying himself against a bulkhead he paused for a moment, his eyes coming to rest on a diagnostics screen. It seemed that he had been extremely lucky. No major systems were damaged. The Profit Margin would hold together until they got back home, though Isaacs groaned inwardly at the probable repair bill for the hull damage to its aft quarter. However, all things considered he had gotten off lightly.

It would be several days before the Profit Margin completed her jump and given the unlikely event of them being intercepted en route Isaacs had little to do until they reached their destination at Beta Hydri. He needed a shower and a stiff drink, more than one stiff drink in fact, though first he’d check on his cargo of fugitives. The ride had been rough and he couldn’t discount the possibility of injury among his passengers. As he made his way aft he grabbed a medikit from one of the gangway storage lockers and, clutching it, made his way to the passenger cabins.

The cabins were small, forming part of the aft upper deck and had been an option when Isaacs had bought the ship, the alternative being extra cargo space. They were not uncomfortably furnished by human standards, though Isaacs imagined that the small spaces and furniture designed for his own species would be rather an inconvenience to the much larger K’Soth who now occupied them. He knocked on the nearest door and entered, and found the leader of the group of fugitives curled, cat-like, on the small corner mounted cot that sagged under his large, scaly bulk. Glassy yellow eyes regarded Isaacs as he entered. In return he studied the reptilian centauroid creature and noted that his scales displayed the fading colours of fear as the creature nursed a battered forearm that leaked thick, ichorous blood onto the crumpled sheets.

‘I thought I’d come and tell you that we’re now on our way out of the system. You and your family are safe Lord Steelscale.’

Steelscale reached for the translator pendant Isaacs had loaned him and activated it. The device seemed tiny in his heavy, clawed hand.

‘Thank you.’ The tinny voice of the pendant contrasted sharply with Steelscale’s bass growl. ‘It seems you are quite the pilot Captain Isaacs, we are indebted to your skill.’

‘Well, actually it seems that some of your own people came to our aid. To be honest, we only escaped because the War Temple that pursued us was destroyed by another K’Soth vessel. Looked like one of clan Talon’s judging by the livery.’ Isaacs heard his own words translated back to Steelscale in a series of tinny animalistic noises.

‘Destroyed?’

‘Yeah, plasma bolt straight through the power core. We were lucky to get enough distance between them and us before the containment fields blew.’

‘I see. You know I knew the Captain of the Decimator, before all this began. He and I used to hunt together on occasion, before our families became enemies.’ Steelscale appeared forlorn and distant. He continued. ‘Civil war is the worst form of conflict Captain, the hardest to bear. Killing an enemy you have never known is one thing, but killing your friends, people you have known all your life and even fought alongside in the past is quite another. I have only been Lord Steelscale for a few days, after my predecessor, my father, was murdered by a former friend.’

‘I’m sorry. Perhaps you can console yourself that you’re free of that now. You can claim asylum in the Commonwealth and then

’

‘You think we flee because we are afraid?’ Isaacs noted the change in posture and body language. He remembered the K’Soth obsession with martial honour that ran to such lengths as to seem perverted by Human standards.

‘Look, I never suggested that

’

‘Hmm.’ The K’Soth seemed to regard him with some amusement. ‘Captain, understand that we flee to the Commonwealth with a purpose. We decided to flee, rather than fight because of what we knew.’

‘Which is?’

‘Believe me, it is better that you do not know. But your government must be warned, or else your people will suffer also.’

There had been some cargo too. The fugitives had brought with them a large sealed metal container which now lay secure in the Profit Margin’s hold. During loading they had seemed far more anxious than he would normally expect if the container merely contained their belongings. Steelscale and the three females that accompanied him had insisted on loading the container themselves with the aid of AG lifters, rather than leave it to the ship’s automatic cargo loader.

Whatever was inside the container or inside Steelscale’s head? A K’Soth willingly volunteering information to the Commonwealth was unprecedented, as far as Isaacs knew. The two civilisations had been mortal enemies for over five decades, and even though it was rumoured that the Commonwealth was backing the more moderate reformist rebels against the fundamentalist monarchy, old habits died hard. Even the refugees he had seen on the news broadcasts were apparently reluctant to talk about matters within the Empire with humans.

‘Alright. Well look, do you need any medical attention? That arm looks a bit banged up.’

‘I assure you, I am fine. Our pain tolerances are rather higher than that of your own species.’ Isaacs detected a note of condescension in Steelstale’s answer, despite the limits of the translator.

‘And your concubines?’

‘They are unhurt. Go and attend to your own needs Captain. I assume from your appearance that you may want to wash yourself and relax with food and alcohol.’

‘Yeah, I certainly intend to.’

‘I also. You see? Perhaps we are not so unlike one another, your people and my own. Appearances can be deceptive, wouldn’t you agree?’

Isaacs nodded wearily in agreement and retired to his own quarters.

After a shower, change of clothes, a meal from the ship’s freeze-dried stocks and a couple of whiskies from his dwindling supply, Isaacs made his way aft to the hold and the mysterious container within it.

It stood in the middle of the brightly lit, utilitarian space; a black obelisk that squatted on the metal decking, held in place with magnetic clamps and hawsers. Isaacs walked around it a few times, but could see no obvious way of opening it or seeing inside. There was a thin seal around one end of the container. Isaacs guessed that the locks and hinges must respond to some sort of electronic key. Doubtless such a device was in the possession of Lord Steelscale.

There was an alternative however. Isaacs was a conscientious trader and he liked to know what was aboard his ship at all times. To this end he had installed sensors within the cargo hold that allowed him to scan the cargo within it. Despite the somewhat questionable nature of some the contracts he had taken over the years, there were some things he did not want to be caught carrying - such as antimatter or biological weapons – since even allowing such things to be carried aboard his ship without his knowledge would result in swift and severe punishment should his ship be scanned or searched by the authorities, or the cargoes be traced back to him. To this end he had installed the scanners as an insurance against any dishonest passengers who might try to trick him into carrying such cargoes under that pretence that they were simply innocent, ordinary goods.

Isaacs unlocked and opened the wall panel that gave him access to the cargo scanners and set them to probe the container. There was brief wait while the systems ran through their cycle, then the image of what they had uncovered appeared on the small screen next to the controls. Isaacs could see nothing, save for the shape of the container. Either it was completely empty - which seemed unlikely – or else the container was shielded.

Swearing under his breath he adjusted the frequency modulation and scan cycle to probe more carefully and more intrusively, then repeated the scan. This time a fuzzy image appeared within the container. Isaacs squinted at it. It looked like the body of a K’Soth laid out for a funeral. He checked for life-signs or signs of suspended animation and found none. The K’Soth burnt their dead didn’t they? What were they doing with a corpse of one of their number aboard his ship?

There was something else odd about the body too. The head was encased in some sort of device or field that the cargo scanner couldn’t penetrate. Isaacs toyed with the scanner some more in an effort to penetrate this new obstacle but was unsuccessful. Unable to let go of his curiosity, Isaacs ran analysis programs on the scanner’s findings which concluded that the field in question was holding the corpse’s head in stasis. Effectively the head was disconnected from normal space-time in an isolated bubble of reality.

As far as Isaacs knew the K’Soth did not possess such technology, hell it was beyond the Commonwealth to produce such devices. They must have acquired an Arkari or Esacir device on the black market at great expense. But why? What was so important about the head of the dead K’Soth that it had to be held within such expensive protection?

‘Humans are such curious creatures.’

Isaacs jumped at the sudden voice behind him. He whirled and was confronted with Lord Steelscale, who had somehow crept upon him unheard and now stood a mere couple of metres away. Isaacs was suddenly reminded of the predatory nature of the K’Soth as a species. Doubtless a big cat from Earth would move with the same silent grace.

‘I was just making sure that

your cargo was…’ he began. Steelscale cut him off.

‘Captain Isaacs I realise that this is your ship and that as a human you are unduly curious about our cargo, but I assure you, it is better for your sake that you do not know. There are some secrets that some people are willing to kill to preserve, and this is one of them. You seem a decent man, and I would hate to see that happen to you.’

‘What people? The K’Soth still loyal to the Imperial house?’

Steelscale gave a short bitter laugh. ‘If only,’ he snorted. ‘Believe me Captain Isaacs; there are far worse things than the Emperor’s anger abroad in the galaxy. You would do well not to attract their attention. Now please, I beg you to leave our cargo be.’

‘Alright,’ replied Isaacs. ‘You have my word I that I won’t touch your cargo again.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’m going to get some sleep, Steelscale. It’s been a long day.’

‘It most certainly has.’

Isaacs turned and left the cargo bay, heading toward the bows and back to his quarters. Steelscale remained alone in the brightly lit, bulkhead ribbed space, contemplating the casket of his dead father.

Chapter 2

The sphere hung broken in space, the two halves of the vast structure lit from within by the wan light of the ancient white dwarf star at its heart. Though the star was nearing the end of its life, only a few million years away from its final cooling to a black and lifeless orb, it sat as if newly hatched from the giant eggshell that lay broken around it.

The ancient structure had been discovered by the Arkari - themselves an ancient and advanced race by local galactic standards – when half a century earlier their astronomers had noticed the unusual occlusion of the white dwarf and the strange gravitational lensing apparent in their view of the background star field. They had dispatched a research vessel to the star in question that lay four hundred light years westward beyond their borders and there they had become the first known sentient race to set eyes on the broken sphere in several billion years.

The sheer size of the sphere was almost incomprehensible. Before it had broken in two its diameter had been comparable to that of the Earth’s orbit around the Sun. That an artificial structure could exist of such size was mind boggling even to the Arkari, whose world girdling halos and hundred kilometre tall tree-cities were far beyond the technological reach of most other contacted species, save perhaps the Esacir, the enigmatic plant/animal symbionts whose great wandering cities sailed between distant suns.

No less impressive was the age of the structure. Preliminary investigations placed its date of construction at around six billion years in the past. Never mind that it was far older than any known species still abroad in the galaxy, it was older than the very stars that had nurtured the Arkari, the Humans, the K’Soth and the other multifarious races of explored space.

The sphere had been a habitat, of a type that humans called a Dyson Sphere, home to billions, perhaps trillions of beings. It had been built by that most ancient of races known to history as the Progenitors, whose vast galaxy-spanning empire had heralded the first and only golden age of galactic unity and whose power had finally waned and collapsed around the same time that a disk of dust and gas was slowly coalescing to become the Solar System.

Evidently, the sphere had been destroyed around that time, split in two by weaponry whose nature and power could only be guessed at. Whether the sphere had been attacked and destroyed or whether it had been purposely demolished was not known. In any case, the force of the weapon – whatever it had been – had neatly divided the sphere in two, catapulting the opposing hemispheres away from each other at colossal speed.

Somewhat ironically, this act of destruction had actually saved the sphere for posterity. The progress of the two hemispheres had been slowed and then halted by their own gravities and by that of the star they had surrounded until they had come to rest some six A.U.s apart. When, two billion years later, the star had swelled to become a red giant and had then cast off its outer layers as a planetary nebula, the distance of the two sphere halves from the cataclysm had saved much of their structural integrity and surfaces from the ravages of the star’s convulsions. Slowly, against the backdrop of faintly glowing gas clouds, they had been drawn back towards one another until they now lay a mere four A.U.s apart, huddled around the pale dying light of the star they had once enveloped.

A silvered speck moved across the outer surface of one of the hemispheres at eight tenths of the speed of light. It was tiny point of brightness against the smooth, dark, imperceptibly curving plane of the structure. It was heading for the broken edge of the hemisphere, the uncannily smooth edge where once it had been joined to its partner, whose concave form loomed against the backdrop of nebular gas streams some six hundred million kilometres away.

The speck reached the lip and swiftly changed course, flipping over the hundred kilometre thick edge of super dense material in the tiniest fraction of a second. It then pirouetted gracefully and headed for a faint patch of light on the inner surface of the hemisphere.

Katherine looked up from her work at the descending speck as it gradually resolved itself into the five kilometre long manta-ray form of an Arkari destroyer. For its size, the ship moved with a grace and fluidity that was uncanny to human eyes and added to its piscine appearance. She watched as its great wings beat forward in a final braking manoeuvre, the sunlight gleaming from its liquidly metallic hull. Quite what the wings were pushing against had not yet been fully established by human physicists as far as she knew, although she imagined it probably involved more dimensions that most sentient life-forms were used to thinking in.

As the ship drew closer she recognised the delicate markings across its wingtips. It was the Shining Glory, personal destroyer of War Marshal Mentith, second in command of the entire Arkari fleet. He was either her benefactor, or her personal nemesis. Katherine had yet to make up her mind on that particular issue. In any case, his arrival meant that he was up to something. The War Marshal was generally far too busy to make courtesy calls this far from home. She groaned inwardly. So far she had been enjoying the solitude.

The destroyer heaved to a kilometre or so above Katherine’s head, blotting out the feeble light from the sun in an eclipse which now highlighted its graceful form. From the dim sunlight reflected back from the ancient surface upon which she stood she could just make out the nano-form surface of the destroyer flowing apart near the bottom of her hull, from which emerged a tiny bird shaped shuttlecraft with its graceful wings folded back along its body.

The delicate craft descended at dizzying speed, swooping down through the hazy force-field bubble above Katherine’s head that held the atmosphere in place before alighting some twenty metres away on a tripod of slender landing struts that extruded from its body. A hatch in the belly of the ship flowed open and lolled, tongue-like, to form an exit ramp, from which – after a brief interlude – descended the slender form of the War Marshal.

Katherine watched him as he reached the foot of the ramp and paused for a moment. He appeared to be admiring the view. She had to admit, it was impressive. Where she stood had once been a public square that had lain between a group of immense towering spires that had stretched into the sky for over a kilometre. Now they lay toppled and shattered, lying like felled trees or ancient Roman columns from Earth. Whether it had been the shock of the sphere’s bisection or merely the ages taking their toll was unknown, but the all of the ancient alien cities across the habitat had almost been completely levelled, leaving millions of square kilometres of tumbled monuments and haphazard rubble.

Where Katherine stood, the Arkari research team had erected a kilometre wide force-field dome that they had filled with breathable atmosphere and heated to tolerable levels. It was just visible as a faint blue glow against the black sky. Many other similar havens dotted the surface of this hemisphere and its twin, protecting hundreds of Arkari researchers from the harsh environment beyond. There, the rest of the hemisphere’s surface was almost totally airless and subject to the bitter cold of space.

Following the sphere’s demise, much of the atmosphere and the bulk of the artificial oceans and rivers had spilled from the sundered habitat into space. A remnant had remained, clinging to the dense base material’s gravity field, but this had frozen hard against the surface when the two halves had moved far enough away from the star that its radiation could no longer keep the air and water from solidifying. The permafrost had briefly melted for a few million years when the star had turned into a red giant, but now that it had fizzled to a white dwarf, the broken artificial world had returned to its frozen blanket. The frost outlined the scenery beyond the force-field in glittering white, highlighting the ancient shattered forms of buildings and monuments and the vacuum-mummified remains of trees and plants. The desolate frozen landscape curved upwards and away on all sides, imperceptibly so if one looked straight at the ground, but look to the horizon and the floor of the ruined bowl rose to form a regular circular wall against the stars. Overhead, its opposite number loomed concave, leaving only a band of cosmos visible between the two massive halves.

Strangely, there appeared to be no bodies within the ruins, not even any dead animals, which lent weight to the theory that the sphere had been evacuated and demolished, perhaps as part of a scorched earth policy, at the time of the Progenitors’ final collapse.

Mentith ceased his appraisal of the landscape and made his way carefully across the broken surface towards Katherine. His boots clicked on the hard, cracked material with every step of his slender form.

‘War Marshal,’ she said as he approached her. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’

‘You can dispense with the formalities,’ he said in slightly accented English. Katherine noted that his pronunciation of that human language seemed to be improving. ‘We’re far enough away from home for it not to matter. Call me Irakun; it’s not as if I’m your commanding officer.’

‘I’m honoured,’ she responded, deadpan.

‘Glad to hear it,’ Mentith replied, businesslike. If he had detected her note of sarcasm he was choosing to ignore it. ‘So Katherine, how are you? You’ve been out here for almost three years now.’

‘I like it out here. I’ve come to appreciate the peace and quiet,’ she answered coldly.

‘I’m not sure it does you good to cut yourself off from your own kind like this. How long has it been since you’ve seen another human? A lot has changed in the interim. How well have you been keeping up with events?’

‘There’s no hypercom node here Irakun, so we’re a little cut off from the wider galaxy, you know that. Besides, I came here to be as far as possible from the war. The war we helped to start no less. I try to ignore the news if I can. The knowledge of what we did is hard enough to bear as it is.’

‘Katherine,’ said Mentith with a note of pity, or was it condescension? ‘The war would have begun anyway sooner or later. You were used, you know that.’

‘We were stupid enough to be used. We should have seen it coming. There were too many coincidences.’

‘You would not have been the first to make such a mistake.’

‘That’s hardly a comfort.’ She avoided his gaze.

‘Besides, the war between the Commonwealth and the K’Soth Empire is over.’ Mentith informed her cheerfully. ‘It has been for over a month now, by your reckoning. The strain of the war and humiliation of their total defeat was too much for the Empire and it has collapsed into rival factions. Now the great K’Soth clans war with one another for control of what remains.’

‘More bloodshed.’

‘True. But in this case it could be for the greater good of many. There are liberalising factions at work in the Empire. Not all of the Emperor’s subjects were so willing or so fanatical as the ones that you encountered. So you see, perhaps you did some good after all. Perhaps a greater degree of liberty will come to the K’Soth and their colonies in time.’

‘What brings you this far out, Irakun?’ she replied irritably. ‘It wasn’t just to give me a current affairs lecture. Don’t you trust us academics to work unsupervised?’

‘After your last series of discoveries? No I don’t, frankly. In any case, that isn’t the reason why I’m here.’

‘Oh?’

‘I came here to check on your progress, to install a few new security measures in the space around the sphere, and to tell you that I have been approached by your government with news of a fresh research opportunity. Naturally they asked for you both to be involved, being the most obvious people to ask. It seems that they have unearthed some ancient artefacts of extreme age. There has been some speculation as to their origins, given that they appear to have come from the same epoch as this place,’ said the War Marshal, indicating at the harsh, broken landscape about him. ‘Anyway, since you two are now the leading experts in the field of Progenitor studies they’d like your analysis.’

Katherine’s suspicion was roused. It was rare for the War Marshal to appear so magnanimous, and why was he offering them more research away from their work here? Why, in fact, was he here?

‘Irakun, I appreciate the offer, but our work here isn’t finished,’ she replied warily.

‘Oh I quite agree. But I expect that this shouldn’t take too long. Besides, I gather that the lack of artefacts has been one of the key disappointments about your work here. You see, I do keep a close eye on your progress.’

‘That’s true. So far we’ve found very little. We’ve learnt all sorts about how this place was built, but we know so little about the people who built it. The other teams here have had similar luck

’

‘Then perhaps these new discoveries could link into your current work, provide you with fresh insights?’

‘Assuming they are Progenitor relics. Look, this is all very interesting Irakun and believe me I do appreciate the offer, but I think our most recent find here will provide us with more information. We uncovered what we believe to be some sort of archive, a vault filled with crystalline wafers, data storage devices of some sort. We were unable to decipher their contents, so we submitted the first few of the artefacts we unearthed for analysis back on your home world.’

‘Yes I know all about them Katherine. What they have told us was most interesting.’

‘That’s why you’re here?’

‘I’m afraid so. Given the nature of the few documents that were decoded, the Meritarch Council has classified the finds as being of the utmost importance

and therefore off limits to civilians.’

‘What!? You’re dropping us from our own research project? What the hell did they find in them?’

Now she knew. Mentith’s arrival here did have an ulterior motive. She should have guessed from the moment his ship appeared in the sky. Despite his casual manner the War Marshal did not make courtesy calls. Just what was he doing?

‘I can’t tell you I’m afraid,’ he replied. ‘I am sorry Katherine I know how much you’ve invested in this project, but I’m just following orders.’

‘You’re generally the one who gives the orders.’

‘Despite my high rank within our military I am not in overall command. I am still merely a soldier and as such am subject to the whims of the civilian government of my people.’ His tone had an air of condescension that irked Katherine.

‘When it suits you, you two faced

’ she began to snarl.

‘Please, Doctor

’

‘Well, given that your underlings tried to ruin my career last time we found anything of any interest

’

‘Katherine!’ barked Mentith suddenly. ‘This was not my decision! You’ve done good work here, you and Professor Cor, excellent in fact. Thanks to you we know far more about this ancient race than we ever thought possible. Your skills in coordinating the research of the teams we have in place here on the habitat are invaluable. I would be more than happy to continue to involve you in this aspect of the project, but I have been ordered to oversee the continuing excavation, retrieve all of the artefacts and return them to Keros at all costs.’

‘What does that mean, precisely?’

‘It means that these artefacts are of incalculable value and that theoretically, my government would be prepared to use military force to ensure their security. ‘

‘Oh, that. Are you going to demolish any more star systems in the process?’

‘Very droll. Look Katherine, it would be of immense help if you two could tell me everything about the find. But as of now, this dig is under military jurisdiction.’

She sighed and sagged a little inwardly. Though she distrusted Mentith, she realised that the old Arkari disliked what he was having to do to her, and he seemed to being honest with her as far as he was able.

‘Well,’ she said after a moment of dejected contemplation. ‘You’ll need to discuss this with Rekkid as well. Alright, come this way.’

‘Oh fuck off, Mentith!’ The cultured tones of Professor Rekkid Cor’s swearing echoed in the hollow space.

The vault was illuminated by the stick-on glow-globes that the Arkari research team had placed around the chamber. Their harsh white light cast jagged elongated shadows from the broken, tumbledown walls and the sagging ceiling that was held up by a number of micro field generators.

Approximately half of the chamber had been excavated. The remainder was filled with a tumbled mixture of collapsed ceiling material, broken storage cabinets and drifts of slim, rectangular, shiny objects that spilled from the cracked and distorted cabinets and mingled with the debris.

A number of Arkari archaeologists worked on the debris, like miners painstakingly working the face of a seam for gemstones. With delicate tools and infinite care they sifted and sorted the buried and jumbled objects, cataloguing and labelling each artefact as they slowly revealed more finds.

This is just fucking typical, we find something of historical interest and you morons shut down all of our research. Talk about déjŕ vu.’ Professor Rekkid Cor, Katherine’s senior colleague and friend, was understandably livid. This was not the first time that his research had been disrupted by Mentith’s intervention and the Arkari was almost visibly shaking with rage. He did not mince his words.

‘Professor, I think you’re being unreasonable,’ Mentith responded calmly. ‘Please try to remember that you were only allowed to work here at the behest of the Meritarch Council, whose primary concern was to determine more about the fate of previous civilisations at the hands of the enemy.’

‘Well perhaps our invaluable services in that regard would be more use if you would leave us alone and allowed us to do our jobs,’ Rekkid snarled sarcastically.

‘I gather that your search for Progenitor artefacts has not borne fruit as expected. This new project might fill some of the gaps in your research.’

‘That I can’t deny. The fact is, is that this place was systematically stripped of anything that they could take with them. We’ve explored whole buildings, or what was left of them. We didn’t find a single thing except here.’

‘Bad luck perhaps?’

‘Don’t you get it War Marshal? These records were meant to be found. Someone left them here on purpose when everything else was taken. This place

we think maybe it was some sort of administrative centre, possibly even of a military nature and

’

‘Perhaps if you start from the beginning,’ Mentith cut in.

Rekkid sighed and deposited himself dejectedly into a flimsy collapsible chair next to a similarly unsteady looking table strewn with papers, archaeological tools and shallow plastic trays filled with neat rows of the crystalline wafers, carefully labelled and awaiting cleaning, their shiny surfaces dulled by five million millennia of dust and dirt.

‘War Marshal Mentith, you are without doubt the bane of my existence

’ sighed Rekkid.

‘Please, Professor.’

‘Alright, alright

’ Rekkid scratched the ridge of chitinous plates that adorned the centreline of his elongated cranium. ‘Actually, Katherine is perhaps the one tell you, it was her team that first found this place.’

Mentith turned to Katherine, now busy examining a tray of recent finds. ‘Doctor? If you would.’

Katherine placed the objects she was holding back in their proper places, wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and sat next to Rekkid in another fold out chair. Then she spoke.

‘When we first arrived here we were rather overwhelmed by the scale of the project. None of us had seriously considered how we were going start excavating on such a large scale, so we set up a few trial sites to see what we could find. We quickly realised that either the shock of the habitat’s destruction or simply the weight of years had collapsed most of the surface structures. During the first eighteen months we explored many as far as we dared and we learnt much about the architecture of the Progenitors. It seemed like these buildings have been grown. They were all constructed in one piece from the foundations upwards and somehow coaxed into graceful, delicate shapes by techniques that we can only guess at.’

She remembered. The awe she had felt as they had walked and crawled in suits among the haphazard topography of the ruins. Crazily angled walls and floors, broken archways and shattered stairwells lit by the narrow shifting beams of their torchlight, the terrible beauty of the desolation of this place, and the weight of the endless centuries that pressed upon her.

‘However, despite the progress we made, we still know little about the builders themselves. Each ruin we explored was utterly empty, not a single artefact was recovered during our exploration of the fallen buildings, which led us to believe that perhaps the habitat had been evacuated or abandoned before its demolition. We theorised however, that maybe artefacts might reside in forgotten cellars or basements, so I organised a systematic geophysical survey of this hemisphere, using the ships we had available to us to uncover any promising looking underground chambers. It took around three months for us to complete the survey in enough detail.’

‘And that was when you found this place?’

‘Yes, we found many other subterranean passages and buried chambers during our search. Many of the fallen buildings were still largely intact below ground level, although the shock of their collapse had caused many to cave-in like this one.’

‘So what attracted you to this one in particular?’

‘We noticed from our survey data that this basement had been constructed rather like a bank vault.’ Katherine noticed Mentith’s momentary incomprehension - the Arkari had advanced beyond the need for currency some tens of millennia in the past. ‘What I mean is that chamber was heavily armoured by a dense metallic shell that was constructed independently from the rest of the building it sat beneath. Whatever it was built to contain was obviously something that was worth guarding well. We could tell that there was something inside, but we were getting too much interference from the shell to tell what it was. We assumed that the Progenitors would not have the need for material wealth given the level of their technology, and so we theorised that perhaps whatever the vault had been built to protect must have had some other kind of tangible value.’

‘You said that you thought that this building was of a military purpose?’

‘Yes, after surveying the outer surface of the habitat we realised that the building had been constructed above several elevator shafts leading to the remains of a small docking station on the outer surface which consisted of a number heavily armoured bays. This was unusual, since there are actually very few docking points on the outer surface. We assumed that most traffic must have entered through the heavily defended polar apertures, effectively using the entire sphere as a vast docking bay.’

‘Did you find any examples of Progenitor weaponry?’

‘No, all mountings examined so far appear to have been stripped.’

‘I see.’

Katherine thought that Mentith seemed slightly crestfallen at her answer. She continued: ‘Anyway, we started digging and reached the outer surface of the vault relatively easily. We then cut our way through the armoured shell using plasma torches. Even then it took us some weeks to burn our way through. We analysed the material and found that it contained a number of heavy elements as well as a few more exotic materials unknown even to your people. Here

’

She reached into a container beneath the table a produced a walnut sized chunk of the same blue-grey composite that Mentith had noticed around the entrance to the vault. Evidently the walls and ceiling he could see around him had been built within the armoured shell for purely aesthetic reasons. Katherine handed him the piece, it was surprisingly heavy and glassily smooth to the touch.

‘See,’ said Katherine. ‘That stuff is incredibly dense. We think that it’s similar to the base material that the sphere was constructed from. We’ve sent back a number of samples for analysis - could be useful if you could figure out how to manufacture it.’

‘Indeed,’ said Rekkid. ‘Just think of all the lovely armoured killing machines you could make out of that stuff, eh Irakun?’ The War Marshal ignored his jibe.

‘So,’ said Mentith. ‘You opened up the vault, and inside you found the wafers.’

‘There were huge piles of them scattered amongst the fallen debris. Some were still in their storage cabinets, but many were simply lying in random piles. We could tell that they appeared to be some form of storage media - each has an interface of sorts on either side - but we had no idea what they contained. One of the technicians managed to jury rig an interface, but the data was unintelligible to us, so we sent back the first few that we found for decryption.’

‘You have no knowledge of the contents of these devices?’

‘None at all.’

‘Good. That will be all. Doctor, Professor if you would care to accompany me to my ship.’

Rekkid got up from his sitting position. ‘Excuse me, War Marshal, but neither of us has yet agreed to any of this. You mentioned something when you arrived about some find the Commonwealth Navy want us to look at, but we have work to do here. You can’t just kick us all off the project and let your people take over. They wouldn’t know what the hell they were doing.’

‘That’s precisely what I’m doing Professor Cor. I’m under orders. You will hand over all of your notes and records and you will leave. Now. Your staff will be remain and liaise with our military intelligence division. I’m told that our own specialists are on the way.’

‘Great. Wonderful. Two years of work down the drain.’

‘I am sorry, but our government felt it was best if their own people handled this. Apparently they don’t trust you as I do.’

‘I hope it’s worth it Mentith. I really do,’ said Katherine. ‘But I think they’re making a mistake by taking us off the project.’

‘I couldn’t agree more. However

’ he shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

‘So, this incredible find that the Commonwealth Navy made, the one that’s apparently so much more important than our work here – where is it did you say?’ said Rekkid.

‘The Hadar system.’

‘Where?’

‘About as far away from civilisation as this place. Listen, I do have my own motives for sending you there.’

‘You do?’ said Katherine.

‘Yes. We’ve gotten word of very strange goings on at the dig site. It could just be rumours, but getting any hard evidence of what is going on or what exactly it is that the Commonwealth Navy have uncovered there is proving to be unusually difficult. I’d appreciate it if you’d act as my eyes and ears down there. Let me know if anything about the dig troubles you.’

Chapter 3

Ten thousand kilometres out from the sovereign world of Emerald in the Beta Hydri system, space twisted apart and spat out the battered freighter Profit Margin into the traffic control zone around the heavily populated planet. The light of the yellow sun played across the lifting body hull of the small tapered craft, highlighting the damaged plates around the aft section and the lines of carbon scored into the paintwork.

The craft banked with a few bursts from its manoeuvring thrusters and headed towards the shining distant dot of one of the planet’s two orbital docks. As the ship grew closer its occupants could see that the dock itself was surrounded by meandering streams of light; traffic patterns composed of hundreds of ships moving to and from berths within the vast structure as well as a beaded line that stretched from the dock to the planet, the space elevator that linked the dock to the surface.

Isaacs sat at the controls of his ship as he made the approach. Behind him loomed the reptilian form of Steelscale, his clawed hands gripping the back of the pilot’s couch to steady himself - the human seating arrangements being far too small to accommodate his reptilian bulk. The comm. system crackled into life, the bored sounding drawl of a traffic control officer cutting into the cabin above the background whine of the ship’s systems:

‘Vessel Profit Margin this is Emerald traffic control. We have you on approach, vectoring you to bay forty-five. Uploading waypoints now. Please observe port regulations.’

‘Roger that control. Locking autopilot to your waypoints, Profit Margin out,’ replied Isaacs, his hands moving automatically over the controls. Instantly the Profit Margin began to slow as rings of thrusters around her forward fuselage fired steadily to reduce her speed and adjust her velocity, angling the craft towards the mingling streams of ships. Isaacs sat back in his command couch and idly watched the hypnotic ballet of ships against the spectacular backdrop.

‘No,’ said Steelscale suddenly. ‘We must not dock with the station.’

‘We mustn’t?’

‘No we

have made other arrangements. Over there, near the station. You see the Navy vessel? Hail them.’

Isaacs peered towards the distant orbital dock. The silhouette of a Commonwealth carrier was faintly visible against the blue-green glow of the planet. The vessel was about two kilometres in length, though at this distance it appeared tiny compared to the growing disk of the much larger tiered dock. Isaacs scrolled through the contacts list his sensors had generated. The vessel was the Winston S. Churchill, one of the new Saturn class carriers, the cutting edge of Commonwealth naval power, sleeker, faster and more heavily armed than the older though far more common Jupiter class that had preceded it.

Isaacs selected the Churchill in his ship’s comm. system and began broadcasting a tight beam transmission at the carrier.

‘Uh, Navy vessel Winston S. Churchill this is the independent trading ship Profit Margin,’ he began a little nervously.

‘Receiving your transmission Profit Margin, how can we be of assistance?’ said the clipped businesslike female tones of the ship’s comms officer. Isaacs looked to Steelscale for some sort of clue as to his answer.

‘Tell them that their captain’s expected guest has arrived,’ said Steelscale. ‘Then transmit the contents of this.’ He handed Isaacs a standard data wafer, which Isaacs duly inserted into a port in the ship’s comm. and did as he was instructed. There was a brief pause and then:

‘Profit Margin, this is the Churchill. We are clearing you to dock. One moment whilst we communicate with Emerald traffic control.’ Another pause, then a new set of waypoints appeared on Isaacs’ HUD, leading away on a new course through the tangled threads of traffic.

‘Waypoints received Churchill, setting new course,’ Isaacs informed the carrier as his ship swung towards its new destination.

‘Roger that Profit Margin. Churchill out.’

There was little for Isaacs to actually do now, as the Profit Margin slipped quickly through the traffic patterns surrounding the port on autopilot. He watched the vast metal disk grow against the convex backdrop of clouds, water and continents. He could just about make out the armoured shape of the Churchill now. Long tapered launch bays jutted fore and aft from the oblong box that formed the midsection, engine nacelles hugging its sides and belly whilst countless defensive and offensive weapon turrets studded its hull, the deadliest of which –a more efficient copy of the K’Soth plasma weapons – was slung under the centreline of the great vessel.

Isaac’s was suddenly alerted by the warning tone of the Profit Margin’s sensors. Suddenly panicked he moved his eye over the virtual display of his HUD, now highlighting the Churchill with blinking red icons.

‘Holy shit,’ he murmured.

‘Is there a problem?’ rumbled Steelscale.

‘The Churchill, it’s powering its weapon systems. Primary, secondary and defensive armaments are all coming on line!’

‘Then we have nothing to worry about. They were expecting us. This is merely for our protection.’

‘Yes, but who else were they expecting!? That carrier could take down every ship around this port in minutes and that’s before she launches her squadrons! There, see! Two wings of Daemon class fighters have just left the bow catapults.’ He pointed at the cluster of new contacts streaking away from the Churchill.

‘Then we are in safe hands.’

‘Just who is after you Steelscale? Whoever they are, they seem to have the Navy pretty worked up.’

‘They are conscientious people, the Commonwealth Navy.’

Isaacs could tell by Steelscale’s obtuse answers that he wasn’t going get any more out of the taciturn K’Soth. But who or what the hell could make a carrier crew so jumpy in the heart of Commonwealth space? Beta Hydri was one of the core systems of the Commonwealth. If anywhere was safe from alien attack, it was here. The fact the captain of the carrier he was about to dock with didn’t share this opinion did not fill him with confidence.

He used the ship’s instruments to look closer at the Churchill. Not all of her turrets were pointing outwards. Several of the anti-fighter turrets were pointed directly at his ship. They alone would be enough to fry the Profit Margin should he make any false moves. They were also being heavily probed by the sensors of the larger vessel.

The waypoints in Isaac’s HUD lead to the stern of the carrier, where the letterbox shape of the landing deck and its magnetic arrestor tunnel gaped into space, highlighted by an oblong of lights around its mouth.

The Profit Margin approached and slowed, rotating so that its orientation matched the angle of the deck entrance. Within, winking lights strobed a path into the heart of the vessel as the freighter drifted slowly within the metal cavern, passing through the first of the series of fields that held the atmosphere within the vessel without the need for cumbersome mechanical doors. They drifted steadily onwards, down the metal walled tunnel as the small freighter slowed almost to a walking pace under the control of the carrier’s instructions to the autopilot.

Now within the vessel’s internal hangar space and operating on antigravity within the Churchill’s artificial gravity field, the Profit Margin slipped sideways and settled quietly and carefully on a vacant patch of deck. With a sigh, Isaacs shut down the vessel and listened to the systems as they powered down.

‘Okay, well I’ll see if I can find someone on this ship who knows what’s going on.’ He began, and then looked at Steelscale. ‘You okay waiting here?’ he asked him and received a slow nod in reply.

Isaacs unbuckled his restraints and made his way to the exit hatch behind the cockpit, leaving a brooding Steelscale in the cramped space. It took him a few moments to unlock the mechanical hatch and then activate it so that it folded down beneath the belly of the freighter with a mechanical whine and formed a steep set of steps down to the deck below. His joints creaking from prolonged sitting, he grabbed handrails on both sides of the newly formed exit and stepped backwards down the ladder. Reaching the deck he turned and found a military issue rail rifle pointed at his head.

‘Freeze,’ the deep voice boomed harsh and mechanical from the helmet of the rifle’s owner, a Special Forces Sergeant clad from head to foot in heavy combat armour. Isaacs looked and saw another half dozen similarly clad individuals all pointing their weapons at him.

‘What the fuck?’ he began, bewildered by the show of force.

‘Stay where you are. This is just a precaution, but if you make one false move it’ll be your last. Understand?’

Isaacs nodded hurriedly. The Sergeant produced some sort of scanning device that he ran over Isaacs’ body, presumably to check for hidden weapons. Then he produced another device that – judging by its sleek appearance – seemed to be of Arkari manufacture. This, he pointed at Isaacs’ skull for a moment before looking at the results and pocketing the curious shiny gadget.

‘Okay, you’re clear. Squad, move into the ship and search by quarters. Scan anyone you find. You,’ he pointed Isaacs. ‘Who else was on that ship?’

‘About half a dozen K’Soth fugitives.’

‘How many exactly?’

‘Uh, seven.’

‘Cargo?’

‘Yeah, a big stasis container in the hold, you can’t miss it. There’s a body of another K’Soth inside.’

‘Very well. Thank you for your co-operation Captain Isaacs.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ Isaacs replied with a hint of sarcasm as the man finally lowered his weapon.

There was an uneasy wait whilst the rest of the squad entered the ship. Isaacs eyed the Sergeant warily. Now that he looked properly at the man’s armour he didn’t see any of the usual Commonwealth Special Forces insignia on it. Both the Army and Marines had their own elite units whose insignia were well known through the various actions vids, holos and games that mythologized their exploits. This man’s armour carried no insignia save for those denoting his rank. There was no name on the breastplate either. That he was Special Forces was clear from his equipment, but other than that the man was anonymous beneath his armoured visor. Isaacs couldn’t recall seeing any Navy or Marine insignia on the hull of the carrier either, when he thought about it. Just what the hell was going on here?

‘Hey, uh Sergeant,’ began Isaacs casually. ‘What unit are you guys with?’ He received no answer. ‘It’s just that an old friend of mine is in the Marines. I kind of wondered if you’d maybe served in the same places during the war or

whatever.’ His sentence died in the face of the visor’s silent stare. ‘Don’t talk much do you?’ he added.

There was sudden mechanical thud and then the whine of hydraulics as the Profit Margin’s cargo bays began to open. A broad section of the flattened underside of the craft began to lower on hydraulics, taking with it the mysterious casket that Steelscale had brought with him. Steelscale and his concubines stood solemnly around the black container, along with the other armoured humans, one of whom was obviously operating the cargo bay lift. There was a gentle thud and the hiss of the hydraulics as the lift made contact with the deck, then the assembled humans and K’Soth stepped off the lift. As the group began to make their way across the hangar area, Isaacs saw Steelscale look around at him and wink conspiratorially – a surprisingly human gesture.

An automated cargo lifter approached on antigrav motors and grabbed the casket gently in its mechanical arms before depositing it with care upon its broad flattened fore-section. Isaacs watched as the yellow, utilitarian device hummed slowly away across the deck with its cortege of humans and aliens. His roving eye noticed others approaching, a small human woman and an old male Arkari, both wearing the uniforms of their respective navies. They met the group of K’Soth and their human escorts. There was a brief exchange of words, which Isaacs was unable to overhear, then Steelscale and his family left with the Arkari. The woman approached Isaacs.

As she crossed the deck towards him, Isaacs tried to size her up. Despite her diminutive stature, the uniformed woman had a presence that belied her physical size. She was good looking, he thought, and there was a purposeful air about her movements. Isaacs noticed the Admiral’s insignia on her chest with surprise. She seemed rather young to hold such a senior rank: he guessed her age at perhaps mid-thirties. Then he noticed the large swathe of ribbons under that insignia. Whoever she was, she had earned her position.

‘Captain Isaacs?’ she said.

‘That’s me,’ he replied uneasily.

‘Admiral Michelle Chen, Commonwealth Navy, Special Operations Command. It’s a pleasure.’ She stuck out her hand. Isaacs stared at it for a moment, and then shook it. Her grip was firm and businesslike. She bade the Sergeant to leave them. The armoured figure saluted quickly and went to join his men.

‘Uh likewise,’ Isaacs replied.

‘You’ve done an excellent job for us Captain,’ she continued. ‘Getting these fugitives out of Imperial space was a dangerous gamble for you. I see you ran into a little local trouble.’ She nodded at the Profit Margin and its mangled, blackened aft section.

‘Yeah, you could say that. Actually you could say that I got jumped by a War Temple and escaped due to what can only be described as a miracle

’

‘It wasn’t exactly a miracle Captain. Someone was watching your back for us. However I gather it was close run thing. You should be proud: your actions and piloting skills have served the Commonwealth well.’

‘Actually I was kind of in it for the money, and for the adventure of course. Uh, I had no idea I was working for you guys’ He tried to give her a winning smile. It didn’t seem to work.

‘Hmm, well I guess you have a business to run. Sorry for the confusion, but we prefer to work indirectly to minimise our exposure. Had you thought of joining up? We could use good pilots like you.’

‘Sorry,’ he replied. ‘Been there, done that, thanks. I flew bombers for a few years, but I couldn’t really stand the military life. I guess I don’t take orders well.’

‘Your profile said you were something of a loner. I take it that the freelancer life suits you then?’

‘Yeah, I like being my own boss

what profile?’

Chen cast him an amused look. ‘What, do you think we’d honestly employ you on a mission like this without checking out your background? Captain, your naivety disappoints me.’

‘Huh. So you guys have all the dirt on me then?’

‘Some dirt. If there’d been too much, or perhaps the kind of dirt we didn’t like we wouldn’t have approached you, now would we?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘For what it’s worth, you seem trustworthy and loyal, though I suspect you’d hate to admit it. Even if you are a little rough around the edges.’

Isaacs was suddenly aware of his rather dishevelled appearance. His oil and sweat stained flight gear, ragged at the seams and faded, suddenly felt scruffy under the piecing gaze of the smartly turned out Admiral. He realised he could use a shave too.

As if sensing his thoughts she said: ‘Tell you what, why don’t you head on up to your quarters and have a shower, change of clothes etcetera and then we’ll discuss your payment.’

‘My quarters? I’d kind of hoped of getting underway as soon as possible, I need to see about getting the ship repaired and

’

‘I’m afraid it’s necessary that you remain aboard for a short while at least.’ Chen replied. As if in response to her words Isaacs felt the deck move imperceptibly beneath him as the carrier got underway. ‘We’ve assigned you quarters on deck ten. You should find them quite comfortable and the galley will quite happily supply you with meals if you like. Feel free to collect any belongings from your ship if you wish.’

‘Alright,’ he replied. ‘Guess I don’t have much of a choice do I?’

‘Not really.’

‘I hope the food’s improved since I was last on a Navy vessel.’

‘Not a lot. Come on, I’ll show you to your quarters.’

Isaacs grabbed a change of clothes from the Profit Margin and followed Chen into the elevator and to his assigned quarters on deck ten. They were a lot more comfortable than he remembered from his days in the bomber squadron. Then, he had shared a tiny, sparse cubbyhole of a room with two other squadron mates. Here, he had decently sized, comfortably furnished quarters all to himself. A small porthole gave him a view along the port flank and of the ships bows. The structure of the vessel was invisible save for the glow of lights from a hundred similar apertures against the blackness of the hyperspace envelope as the ship jumped to god knows where.

He showered, shaved and changed and ordered a fried breakfast from the ship’s galley – one of the perks of being a guest - and he had to admit that despite Chen’s claims the food had improved. It was at least recognisable. His belly full he laid on the bed for a while and let the tension and fatigue drain out of him as the ship hummed quietly around him. Suddenly aware of just how tired he was he felt his eyelids drooping.

Isaacs jerked suddenly awake and looked at his watch. How long had he been asleep? He tried to remember what time it had been when he’d come aboard. Shit, it must have been at least eight hours ago. What the hell, he thought, at least he felt better for the sleep.

Something was different. The ship’s sounds had changed. With a jolt he suddenly realised that they were no longer in hyperspace. The dull rumbling in the background was coming from the ship’s fusion engines, not the jump drive. They must have reached their destination, but where? He racked his brains and tried to work out how far a ship of this class could travel in eight hours or so and drew a blank. There were no systems close enough to the Beta Hydri system; the ship must still be in interstellar space. His head full of questions he rushed to the porthole and peered out at the velvety blackness of deep space and found that all but the brightest stars were invisible against the reflected glare of the internal lights against the glass.

Isaacs dimmed the lights and returned to his peephole. He squinted at the patterns of stars and tried to orientate himself. Off the port side of the ship he could just about make out the bright blue-white speck that was the Luyten 97-12 system a few light years distant - a collection of rocky mining worlds huddled around its white dwarf star. Ahead and slightly to starboard a larger harsher point marked the Achernar system, the bright giant star and its grand assortment of exotically coloured gas giants and their strange life-bearing moons. Closer by; a scattering of dim red dwarf stars marked a cluster of mining colonies and industrial worlds.

Where the hell were they? Isaacs did a quick reckoning exercise and worked out that they were in the middle of the area about twenty to twenty five light years south from Earth where the stars were more sparsely grouped. Despite still being in the heart of Commonwealth space they were, rather unusually, rather off the beaten track. The vast, distant clouds of stars, the inhabited worlds of man, stretched up and around on all sides.

It was then that he saw it, as in a moment the glittering canvas rippled and twisted ahead of the Churchill. Another ship was jumping in ahead. This was a rendezvous, not a port of call.

With a start he suddenly realised just how big the other vessel was. Though it was generally rather difficult to judge distances and size in space due to the lack of points of visual reference the newly arriving ship was quite obviously many times bigger than the carrier. It was an Arkari ship, a graceful, liquidly metallic form that lacked any visible means of propulsion save for the immense wings that stretched out from its elongated body, and it was truly vast.

As the Churchill edged closer Isaacs realised that not only was the Arkari vessel many times bigger than the ship he was on, it was in all probability larger than most space-borne habitats that he had seen. The Arkari ship was above and slightly ahead of them now, its seamless, curving underbelly like the surface of some weird metallic moon hanging in the sky above them. He craned his neck to see upward and caught a glimpse of the Churchill’s running lights reflected in that concave mercury ocean.

Isaacs realised now that the Arkari vessel’s size must be measured in tens if not hundreds of kilometres. He’d heard a few tall tales in his time from other captains and adventurers who claimed to have caught fleeting glimpses of such behemoth craft in remote regions of space, but they were generally regarded as myths or boasts at best. Now he was looking at one up close. Shit, if only he had some sort of camera on him he thought. He really wanted a picture of this thing, but Chen had been quite forcefully insistent that he was allowed no such equipment on board. Now he saw why.

He gazed at the immense alien ship, awestruck. It was heart-breakingly beautiful, graceful and perfect in form. How could something so large move with such natural fluidity? It spoke volumes for the technological sophistication of the race who had built it: the Arkari, humanity’s greatest ally and one-time saviour. But Isaacs had heard other rumours about these fabled ships, that within their beautiful hulls they held the power to destroy worlds, to crush stars and pulverise entire fleets at a stroke. The latest rumour doing the rounds of the spaceports was that four of these leviathans had been present at the start of the war with the K’Soth, when all hell had broken loose around the border world of Maranos and something, it was also rumoured, had virtually wiped out an entire Commonwealth battle-group.

As Isaacs watched, a portion of hull of the great ship parted as a gaping hole suddenly opened in the flawless material. The aperture at first appeared small, but as the Churchill approached it was clear that the hole was large enough to swallow the carrier whole.

Now underneath the hole in the Arkari ship’s hull, the Churchill rose to meet the embrace of the other vessel. Metallic and crystalline walls enclosed the view as she was swallowed by the great craft. Isaacs peered upwards and around and took in the size of the internal space the ship now hung within. It was clear that it was a docking bay of immense size. Looking up he could see rank upon rank of Arkari destroyers and cruisers stored vertically above and around them like books on a shelf, linked by a spider’s web of delicate silver gantries and conduits. He knew for a fact that those destroyers were twice the size of this ship and individually more than a match for any human or K’Soth vessel. He was looking at an entire battle-fleet ready for deployment at a moment’s notice. If the two kilometre long Churchill was akin to a small city in space, the Arkari ship was more like an entire mobile nation geared up for war.

As he watched, more glittering threads extruded themselves organically from the surrounding walls and walkways, smoothly probing inwards until they met power sockets and data relays on the exterior of the Churchill’s hull, whilst a thicker cable, Isaacs guessed it to be a docking tunnel, fastened itself to an airlock amidships like a leech latching onto its victim.

At that moment the porthole suddenly became opaque and blocked his view. Isaacs swore loudly. Somebody must have realised that he was awake and had hurriedly tried to prevent him from seeing any more. He rushed to the console set into the room’s small desk and accessed it. Scrolling through the menus he found the option to choose views from the ship’s external cameras. He selected it and swore again as he found himself locked out. Still, he mused, he had seen enough to keep him in free drinks in spaceport bars for a while, as long as anyone was prepared to believe him.

He sat for a while pondering his predicament when he felt the ship begin to move again. They were descending now. The Churchill must be moving out of the docking bay and back out into space. After a few moments heard the sounds of the ship alter as she jumped.

There was a chime from the console. Curious, Isaacs peered at the paper thin screen and noticed a blinking icon indicating that a message was waiting for him. He prodded the icon to activate it. The message was a recording made in another compartment of the vessel by the looks of things. The face of Steelscale stared back at him. As the K’Soth began to speak the console translated his words on the fly.

‘Captain Isaacs,’ he began. ‘I apologise that I am unable to thank you in person, however time is of the essence. We will be leaving the ship soon and Admiral Chen assures me that you are currently recovering from the exertions of our flight.’

So they had been monitoring him, thought Isaacs, his suspicions confirmed.

‘To this end I wish to use this message to express my gratitude at your bravery and piloting skills. You undoubtedly saved the lives of myself and my remaining clan members and you have helped all civilised races everywhere in ways you cannot begin to appreciate and which, alas, I am unable to fully explain to you. I wish you luck in your future ventures. Farewell, Captain.’ The message ended. The face of Steelscale was left frozen on the last frame.

So that’s what the rendezvous had been about, Isaacs mused. The K’Soth and their mysterious cargo had been offloaded onto one of the Arkaris’ deadliest vessels for transport to who knew where, no doubt somewhere heavily defended within the sphere of systems that they inhabited. But if the Arkari had decided that such a mission required such a degree of protection, just who or what the hell where they worried about? More to the point, what in god’s name was so important about the dead body Steelscale was in possession of?

God damn it, he hated a mystery. He felt that he was just scratching the surface of something major. The hints and warnings that Steelscale had given him, the behaviour of the crew of the Churchill and the appearance of the Arkari ship, all of them pointed towards something strange going on, but what?

There were rumoured to be plenty of things out there in the vastness of the unknown that neither humans, Arkari or anyone else had any knowledge or comprehension of. He’d heard some pretty wild tales over the years, most of them no doubt embellished in the telling or even completely made up, from those who’d dared to venture out into the unknown: Stories of ancient civilisations of unfathomable strangeness, dead planets filled with unbelievable technology, nightmare creatures that sucked the energy from black holes or wraiths that flitted between the clouds of nebulae. Most of the stories were about as credible as the ones about mermaids and sea monsters from the days of sailing ships on Earth. Maybe this was one of them, but maybe this one was actually real for a change. Whatever it was, if even the Arkari with their advanced technology and long space faring history were scared by it, then it had to be important. He’d seen one or two things in his time that fitted that description…

Isaacs was jolted from his musings by a chiming from the door. He got up and walked across to it, pressing the lock panel at the right hand side to open it. A junior officer was standing outside. She smiled brightly at him.

‘Captain Isaacs? The Admiral ordered me to escort you to her office, if you’d care to follow me.’

The junior officer, whose nametag read ‘Zwick’, lead Isaacs through the labyrinthine gangways and lifts of the Churchill’s interior until they arrived at Admiral Chen’s office. Zwick opened the door and motioned him inside.

Chen was sitting at a large wooden desk working from the inbuilt console and a sheaf of papers. The desk was unadorned save for a small, framed photograph of a dark haired man in a naval uniform with Commander’s pips which stood next to an antique telescope, heavily blackened by carbon scoring. The walls of the room were adorned with the usual Navy crap, he noted. A portrait of the ship’s namesake glowered from one wall, whilst a number of citations with Chen’s name on them formed a row along another. Isaacs stood uneasily for a moment before the Admiral appeared to register his presence.

‘Captain Isaacs, have a seat,’ she indicated towards the small padded chair in front of her desk. ‘I trust you’re feeling better after your rest?’

‘I am, thanks.’

‘Good, good. I think it’s time we discussed your payment, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Well, that’s what got me into this in the first place.’

‘Quite. I believe the agreed sum was two hundred thousand?’ He nodded. ‘Well, in light of the increased danger to yourself that you experienced we’re willing to up your fee to three hundred, and we’ll also see to the repair of your ship.’

Isaacs felt his heart leap. Three hundred thousand!?

‘I, well, that’s very generous Admiral, thank you

’

‘There are a few conditions attached of course,’ she cut in.

‘There are?’

‘Yes. Firstly, you are to tell no-one about what you may have seen and heard during this trip.’

‘You mean all the stuff about mysterious cargoes, unmarked ships and enormous alien vessels that aren’t supposed to exist.’

‘Yes, precisely that.’

‘You know I was hoping on using this story as a way of drumming up drinks and impressing the ladies.’

‘Well, I’m sure with three hundred thousand credits you shouldn’t have too much trouble acquiring either. On the other hand, if you were to go telling people about this little adventure the only way you’d be impressing anyone would be if you bent down to pick the soap up in the cell-block showers.’

‘Ah.’

‘“Ah” indeed Captain. This operation was of the utmost secrecy and if you tell anyone about it at all you’ll be guilty of breaching all sorts of laws, so I’m sure you’ll agree that it is definitely in your interest if you keep quiet about it.’

‘Yes, I see your point.’

‘Very good. Of course we may call on your services in the future. As you can see, we pay well for the services of good pilots who can keep their mouths shut.’

‘I’ll certainly bear it in mind. I have to ask though, why me? How did you know I could be trusted? Why not use your own people?’

Chen gave him a sly look.

‘We have our sources Captain. You don’t think we didn’t do any background checks before you were approached with the job offer? We checked out a few other pilots too, but you were at the top of our list. Your service record had a lot to do with it, but we needed people who could slip in and out of enemy territory unnoticed, and the recent ceasefire precludes us from sending Navy ships across the border. You have a professional reputation as a man who can acquire things.’

‘My service record?’

She produced a slim manila folder from a desk drawer and tossed it onto the desk in front of him. Tentatively he opened the file and was greeted with a photograph of a rather younger, less haggard version of himself, though he still sported the same close cropped brown hair style and what he liked to think was a roguish expression. Below were lists of his postings and citations. The former was much longer than the latter. The file had been stamped with the word ‘discharged’ in red across the front page.

‘You had no right to,’ he muttered.

‘Why not Captain? These records are freely available to me. We had to be sure about you. According to these records you were a damn good pilot, almost a model student in flight school. Your loyalty and integrity were never in question. Your instructors had you marked down for great things and then

what happened to you?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it. Look in the fucking record if you’re so interested.’

‘I did, and there’s nothing there. Only that your discipline declined, that you ended up being shunted from one squadron to another because you couldn’t follow orders and eventually you went to pieces and quit altogether.’

‘Yeah well. I learnt the hard way that my loyalty wasn’t to be repaid,’ he said bitterly. ‘What happened to me was

I can’t talk about it.’

Chen gave him a searching look. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Well, thank you for your time, Captain, and for your services. I hope we can work together in the future. The ship will be arriving in Achernar in a few hours. We’ll drop you and your ship off at the naval station around Orinoco. I’ll order the repair crews there to see to your ship.’

Chen stood and shook Isaacs’ hand firmly, noting the unsettled look in his eyes.

After he had gone Chen accessed the ship’s comm. systems.

‘Andrews, get me the Navy Archives,’ she said. ‘Request that they grant me access to all classified records concerning a former pilot by the name of Caleb Isaacs. I’ll provide the necessary authorisation codes.’

Chapter 4

Hadar. The three brilliant stars had formed a single point of light in the southern skies of Earth for millennia before they were noticed, named and catalogued by the ever curious race of bipedal creatures that had sprung from that world, anxious to order the cosmos according to their rules and conventions.

Now the system was dying. The massive binary at the heart of the system had burned intensely for only a brief span of galactic history. The stars’ lives were but an eye-blink in the thirteen and half billion year span of the universe’s existence. Now, their hydrogen fuel almost spent, the two stars would begin to burn heavier elements, swelling outwards into cooler red giants, until the weight of their cores collapsed and the stars would cast off their outer layers in a beautiful but deadly display of radiation and ionised elements. The young planets newly formed around the stars would be extinguished before they had chance to bear life.

A third star orbited the doomed pair at a distance two hundred and ten times the radius of the Earth’s own orbit around the Sun. Hadar B was an impressive star in its own right; a class B star of five solar masses whose brilliance was such that for life to survive on any planet orbiting that inferno, the world’s orbit would need to equal that of Pluto’s around the Sun.

As luck would have it, such a world existed, though its surface conditions and the relative youthfulness of the planet precluded it from being a cradle of life. It was a yellowish, mottled moon of windswept volcanic wastes and silicate deserts wrapped in a mantle of noxious gases. It was here that humans had made their home on this southern outpost of the Commonwealth, over five hundred light years from the lush world that had spawned their race. A multitude of sparse towns and mining settlements had scattered themselves across the arid face of the world they had christened Rhyolite. In the space around the moon, a collection of orbital docks and depots described lazy orbits high above the deserts below, while further out, the larger Barstow orbital habitat sat at the Lagrange point between Rhyolite and its vast parent gas-giant, Beatty. Barstow’s great shining wheel turned slowly in the light from the three suns. A steady dribble of junk freighters, mining transports and less reputable craft moved between the various outposts of humanity dotted around Hadar and outwards to surrounding systems as well as back to the heart of the Commonwealth.

Looking back into that vast swathe of stars one could make out the blue-white point of Achernar, the distant shining beacon of Polaris over a thousand light years distant and somewhere in that sea of scattered jewels, the warm yellow star that had nurtured the ancestors of these hardy prospectors and adventurers that existed out here on the fringe.

Around the two central stars there were no such settlements. The barrage of heat and radiation was simply too intense to sustain habitation and the cost of constructing suitable environments capable of withstanding the furnace like-blast was considered to be too excessive on the ten hellish, barely solidified worlds that orbited the binary, their tidally locked faces forever subject to the barrage from the two stars, like mute observers eternally turned towards an onrushing storm. The only human presence here came in the shape of a ring of stations orbiting at the edge of the stars’ magnetospheres. These armoured and heat-shielded power stations bottled the energy flung out by the two suns and turned it into power cells and star-ship reactor fuel. A regular stream of freighters, armadillo-like behind their thick, heat-resistant hulls and energy shielding, ferried the finished goods to the naval station that floated at the Lagrange point between the binary and their companion star, from where they were escorted out of the system by the cruisers stationed there.

The Hadar system was not without its troubles. Far out on the edge of humanity’s domain, pirates, smugglers and other undesirables congregated far from the reach of conventional law enforcement agencies. A recent upsurge in piracy against ships in the system and those surrounding it had led to the Navy strengthening its presence in the system as an act of goodwill to the Commonwealth’s neighbours and out of commercial and strategic concern for the security of the system’s exports. A carrier battle group had been stationed in Hadar for the duration, strengthening the population of the system to the tune of ten thousand bored service personnel.

A worn-looking passenger liner emerged from its jump at the edge of the Barstow traffic control zone. The lozenge shaped craft began braking manoeuvres, slotting itself into the approach patterns of the station as it headed for the docking point on the far side of the central hub. Aboard, the passengers watched the great metal and glass wheel grow ever larger against the cloud streaked, mottled background of the planet. Moving with care and surprising grace, the large vessel arced in a steady curving path around the five kilometre wide wheel before aligning itself with the docking point on the station’s hub, matched the rotation speed of the station and slid itself gently sideways to mate with the broad docking tunnel that extended from the station to the liner’s amidships airlock.

Inside the station, two figures - a red haired human woman and an irate looking Arkari - emerged from a lift at the foot of one of the spokes that joined the ring-shaped habitation section to the hub. They stepped out into the terminal along with a stream of other assorted people from a dozen races.

‘Shit, I fucking hate those things,’ swore Rekkid, his face pale and drawn. ‘Why the bloody hell can’t they just install gravity generators in those docking hubs? Cheap bastards.’

‘Oh where’s your sense of adventure Rekkid?’ teased Katherine. ‘Besides, it wouldn’t be a proper field trip without you swearing and complaining all the time, now would it?’

Rekkid snorted, a peculiar gesture to Human eyes, since his nostrils were located on the sides of his elongated cranium. ‘I suppose I should just glad to be off that infernal ship,’ he replied. ‘Those cabin walls were far too thin and the Xeelin couple in the next cabin seemed to be on their honeymoon.’

‘It is their mating season you know.’

‘Fine, fine, but they seemed intent on letting the whole damn ship know about it. All that bloody singing, at least I think it was singing.’

‘I’m sure it was terribly romantic if you happen to be a Xeelin.’

‘Yeah well, none of my relationships have ever included operatic amphibians.’

‘What about your first wife?’

‘She was just cold blooded. Besides, it seems like you made a friend on the way over here. If you ever fancy being married to a borax miner

’

‘He was very

courteous.’

‘You mean he kept buying you drinks from the overpriced bar. I bet he couldn’t even pronounce xeno-archaeology, never mind spell it.’

‘Who ever said I was interested in his mind?’

Rekkid snorted again with derision.

The two of them showed their documents to a bored looking official manning the security barrier before passing into the main reception area, a circular space around the base of the spoke that opened out onto the street and which thronged with people.

‘Busy little place isn’t it?’ Katherine commented, changing the subject. ‘Lots of Commonwealth military types about.’

‘Apparently they’ve had something of a piracy problem in the system recently,’ Rekkid replied. ‘Still, that’s the last thing we need: a station full of drunken grunts to contend with.’

‘Doesn’t look like they’re staying here though,’ said Katherine, noticing the groups of boredom numbed troopers standing amidst their equipment. ‘This lot look like they’re awaiting transfer to somewhere else - the surface of the planet below maybe?’

‘Perhaps. There’s a base in the system too, half way between this star and the binary pair,’ Rekkid replied. ‘Can’t say I envy them if they’re going down to Rhyolite though. It doesn’t exactly look like the most fun place to be in the galaxy.’

As they passed through the terminal towards the bright street outside, Katherine noticed an eager-looking uniformed figure clutching a placard with their names written on it. She tapped Rekkid on the arm and pointed at the fair haired young man.

‘Looks like our ride.’

‘Who has misspelt my name, incidentally.’

‘I thought the way you spelled it using the Roman alphabet was “only a phonetic approximation anyway,” or so you told me.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Rekkid replied, silencing here with a half-joking, dismissive wave of his hand. He stepped up to the nervously grinning placard holder and stuck out his hand. ‘Good morning Lieutenant,’ he said, eyeing the man’s rank insignia. ‘I am Professor Cor, this is Doctor O’Reilly. It seems that you are here to meet us, judging from your little sign.’

‘Err yes, I am. Lieutenant Summers, Commonwealth Navy and ah, it’s the afternoon sir, local time.’

‘It is?’ Rekkid looked bewildered for a second. ‘You’ll have to pardon my state of confusion Lieutenant, my colleague and I have just spent a fortnight on one ship or another. Quite frankly I’m starting to forget my own name, never mind what time or day it is. By the way, there’s no need to call me “sir”.’

‘You’re not part of the military?’

‘No, we’re just a couple of archaeologists.’

‘Oh. It’s just that the wording of my orders

I just assumed that you were from the research division like the others. Anyway, I’ve been ordered to escort you to your quarters. We’ve set aside rooms for you in the administrative complex here on the station. I’ve also been instructed to let you know of a meeting tomorrow with others involved in the project. I’ll be along in the morning at eight thirty to collect you.’

‘Very good Lieutenant,’ replied Rekkid. ‘If you’d care to lead the way?’

As they sped through the streets of the station’s interior, with Summers at the wheel of an official government car, Rekkid let out another groan.

‘What is it now?’ Katherine said, with a note of wearied amusement.

‘I’d forgotten how much I hate these things.’

‘What things?’

‘Revolving space habitats. I swear I can feel the bloody thing moving underneath me, going round and round and

’

‘It’s your imagination.’

‘It’s not just that, the perspective makes me ill. I mean look down this road, look! The buildings ahead of us are on the bloody wall for crying out loud.’

‘That’s the floor.’

‘I know, which makes it worse. At least we’re not in an asteroid habitat or a cylinder. There’s nothing I hate more than seeing land hanging in the sky above me. It’s just wrong. Someone ought to sell the Commonwealth a load of cheap gravity field generators and zero point energy sinks. Then there’d be no need for these infernal places.’

Katherine sat and watched the city go by outside, as Rekkid continued to moan, decrying the whole of humanity and their technological prowess in particular. Barstow had the definite air of a frontier town about it. Most of the buildings were of recent construction, but they seemed hastily built and many had a rather ramshackle appearance. The whole scene seemed to lack a sense of permanence, as though the inhabitants might dismantle their abodes and move on at a moment’s notice. The people themselves were an eclectic mix from across the Commonwealth and beyond. Though predominantly human, Katherine counted at least a dozen other species mingling in the streets, among them, blue scaled humanoid Hyrdians, airborne Vreeth bobbing above the crowds like tiny autonomous airships, Xeelin moving with sinuous serpentine grace, even a couple of Nahabe hovering in their all concealing sarcophagi. A handful of Arkari and Esacir mingled among the crowds as well as a number of races that she struggled to identify.

The strangeness of the scene was made stranger still by the convex curve of the street and the high ceiling above it, the glow from the illumination strips mounted there bathing the interior of the station in a wan approximation of late afternoon light. The designers of the orbital had eschewed any sort of transparent panels to allow sunlight in, owing to the disorientating nature of the rotating view outside and the effect it tended to have on station inhabitants when it reminded them that they were in fact whirling around inside a giant metal wheel.

As the car slowed to a stop at a busy junction, Katherine happened to glance across to the other side of the car. A Vreeth hovered outside the glass, the zeppelin shape of its gas-filled body floated there for a second, before it seemed to notice her with its multi-faceted insect-like eyes. The ring of tentacles about its middle gripped some sort of recording device, which it had been pointing at the interior of the vehicle. Quickly, it snatched the device away from view before inflating its buoyancy sacs and rapidly floating away.

‘Lieutenant?’ she said, tapping Summers on the shoulder. ‘I think we’re being followed, or at least someone’s taking an interest in us.’

‘Probably one of the local crime syndicates,’ replied Summers. ‘They’ve been taking an interest in anyone coming and going from the terminals on Commonwealth business.’

‘Well I’d feel happier if we had some protection,’ said Rekkid. ‘I’m not too thrilled about the prospect of organised criminals being interested in our activities.’

‘You’ll be safe enough with us. Not even the Hidden Hand would try and kidnap someone under our protection. They would draw far too much attention to themselves and our retaliation would be disproportionate. They’re just interested in who you are.’

‘The Hidden Hand?’ said Katherine.

‘They’re the largest piracy concern in the system. Most of our efforts have gone into tracking them down these past few months. Their activities were causing us something of a problem in this part of space. The Admiral tried to reason with them at first, but now it’s just become a clandestine war of sorts between us and them. Ah, here we are.’

The car turned sharply into a large gateway blocked by a security barrier that led to a collection of large, characterless buildings beyond. Summers showed his credentials to the guard before they were waved through into the compound beyond.

Above, unseen, a small shape floated up against the ceiling. Irrakit replaced the imaging device into the pouch on the belt around the middle of his ovoid body. Satisfied that he had completed his assignment, he descended back to the ramshackle curving vista below. His masters would be eager to see the results of his day’s work.

‘A clandestine war? I thought you said that they wouldn’t attack you,’ said Katherine as Summers helped her and Rekkid with their luggage.

‘They won’t. The Hidden Hand just do their level best to prevent us from compromising their illegal activities,’ Summers replied as he led them across the compound to a drab looking accommodation block. ‘I described them as pirates, but really you should think of them as being more like gangsters, organised criminals. As well as piracy they’re involved in all sorts of racketeering, smuggling, gun running and assassination. We do everything we can to put a crimp on their operations.’

They entered the softly lit hallway of a dormitory building, the cheaply carpeted corridor ahead lined with equidistantly spaced, identical doors. Similar corridors led off to either side before turning through right angles where they met the edge of the building. The sound of an automated cleaner vacuuming the carpets somewhere echoed through the quiet hallways. Summers strode ahead with Katherine and Rekkid in tow.

‘You’re not making us feel any safer. Assassination?’

‘Only of their own kind, or business rivals. Other pirates mostly. Like I said, you’ll be perfectly safe. Hey, look I work for the Navy and I walk the streets at night alone without being bothered.’ He shot her a reassuring smile.

‘I’m sure we’ll be fine Lieutenant,’ said Rekkid. ‘We’ve faced far greater dangers than the local thugs before now. I believe we have ample protection, whether or not such a fact is readily obvious to others.’

‘Well of course the Navy

’

‘I wasn’t talking about the Navy, Lieutenant. We’ll be fine, I assure you.’

Summers looked puzzled, and then gestured at the two nearest doors facing one another across the corridor.

‘Uh, your rooms.’ He held out two room pass-cards. Katherine took them from him. ‘And ah, we’ve had some ID cards made up for you, if you could fingerprint the front panels with your index fingers that’ll be fine.’

He rummaged in a pocket and produced the two plasticised cards, each of which bore a photo and a one-time pressure sensitive panel. Katherine took those too, handed Rekkid his, removed the protective film from her card and pressed her index finger onto the panel. The whorls and loops of her print began to appear as a highlighted pattern on the material as it solidified. She looked at Rekkid and saw him eyeing the card with a look of slight confusion.

‘Something the matter, Rekkid?’

‘Yes, it doesn’t seem to work with Arkari fingerprints. Not that we really have unique ones as humans do.’ To illustrate he held his index finger up in front of Katherine’s face, the faint pattern of regular ridges across its surface just visible in the light.

‘Oh I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ said Summers. ‘After all, you’re the only Arkari currently on the base. Listen, feel free to explore the station, but make sure you have that ID with you at all times or else you’ll have a hell of time getting back inside. The gate guards can be real jobs-worths if you forget them.’ He laughed nervously. ‘Well I’ll see you both in the morning.’

After Summers had left Katherine said. ‘Well, he seemed helpful.’

‘Hmm,’ Rekkid replied.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Rekkid, must you be so bad tempered all the time?’

‘I’m not ‘bad tempered’ I’m

’

‘What?’

‘A troubled genius.’

‘Bollocks,’ replied Katherine and snorted with laughter.

The bay doors of Barstow Station slid apart, exposing the already atmosphere free compartment within to open space. The small Vreeth craft, a finned sphere dotted with sensor blisters, slipped free of its magnetic clamps within the dock lift that had brought it from its berth to the bay door and quickly powered away from the station, negating its roll rate as it did so. The ship reached the boundary of the station’s traffic control zone at a speed a fraction below the locally imposed speed limit before breaching the nominal boundary and engaging its jump engines, disappearing in a twist of distortion.

Five minutes later the ship emerged from hyperspace in the shadow of Hadar B’s fourth planet; a gas giant of swirling, bilious clouds. The ship recharged its drive and jumped again, this time emerging dangerously close to the gravity well of the star, where it sat for a moment, a tiny black speck invisible against the blinding blue-white inferno, before jumping once more and vanishing without a trace.

Katherine unpacked her belongings and changed out of the travel-crumpled garments she had been wearing into a fresh set of clothes. The trousers, shirt and boots were about the only items in her bags that hadn’t already been worn or creased during the journey. Her hair was a mess too from freefall, so she tied it back from her face. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. It would have to do. Not that she was particularly fussy about such things, but she was getting a little sick of living continually out of a suitcase. The past few years had been one long field trip.

She left her room and went across the corridor to knock on Rekkid’s door. There was a muffled response from within, and then the door clicked open. Rekkid blinked at her.

‘I thought I’d go into town, have a look around,’ said Katherine. ‘Do you want to come?’

‘Hmm? Oh, no I think I’ll stay here. I thought I’d have a rest, and there are some things I need to go over,’ he gestured over his shoulder at the light spilling from the slim portable computer he always travelled with. ‘You go if you like. Watch yourself though won’t you? This place seems a little unsavoury to me’

‘I’ll be fine Rekkid, stop worrying. I can look after myself.’

‘I know, I know. Well have fun. Let me know if you find any charming local colour won’t you? Then I can avoid it.’

Katherine shook her head and bade him farewell. It wasn’t until she got outside the compound and had begun walking along the broad, busy, city street that she realised that the screen in her friend’s room had been filled with characters from the Progenitor alphabet.

She almost turned back, but then checked herself. She knew Rekkid well enough to know that he would tell her what he was up to when he was ready. She could already guess what he might have done. Rekkid was never one to rest easy if there was a chance of a find being taken away from him. Especially not after that business with the ancient Arkari shipwreck that had led to everything else.

It weighed heavily upon them both at times. It was their discoveries which had provided the catalyst that both the Commonwealth and the K’Soth Empire had needed to start their war. Worse still, the ancient Progenitor portal device that they had activated within the border world of Maranos had unleashed something far more terrible: ancient, murderous machines, the remnants of banished members of the Arkari race from an ancient time that had been erased from history and who had spilled from the portal intent on conquest and revenge. Thousands had died in the ensuing battle as the fleet around the planet had been destroyed in short order before the portal was finally deactivated by a Progenitor whose personality had been preserved through five thousand millennia inside an artificial matrix of incalculable sophistication. It was the last act in a war between two races begun before Earth’s sun had coalesced into being. The Progenitor, Varish, had entered the portal and left the galaxy, some speculated to join his own people who had used the very same device to flee the galaxy after they had lost the war orchestrated against their once great empire.

Now a new war had begun. Katherine and Rekkid had been the unwitting pawns in the opening moves of a new conflict, between the relatively young races in this sector of the galaxy and the ancient race known as the Shapers by whom the Progenitors had been brought so low.

The Shapers were so called because they sought to mould events, societies and the entire galaxy as they saw fit. Aeons of time and internecine warfare among themselves had caused their numbers to dwindle. Consequently, they usually acted through others, using their spies and parasitic creatures to tip the balance one way or another, to bring events to fruition and change the face of the galaxy to their liking before they struck. Little was known about them, even to the highest echelons of the Commonwealth and Arkari intelligence divisions, who kept the existence of the Shapers secret from the rest of their populations lest hysteria and fear take hold and further the cause of the enemy still further. Nothing was known save for their greed, lust for power and unparalleled technology; a few examples of which had been obtained. Their ultimate motives were unfathomable, their true numbers unknown, their worlds largely uncharted and even their true appearance remained a mystery. They were known through myth and through the sparse records available from the ancient civilisations that they had destroyed or enslaved.

Katherine and Rekkid were two of the handful of people who knew these terrible facts, and even then only because it had been revealed to them when the agent who had manipulated them into lighting the fuse of war had been unmasked before them: a vile grub that had inhabited the brain of a local priest. Mentith had enlisted them on the spot, as their skills and knowledge were invaluable, and now they served his quest to uncover as much information about this ancient enemy from the archaeological record.

So many people had died in the recent war between the Commonwealth and the K’Soth Empire, on both sides. The fighting had been bloody and had only been brought to a halt when the Empire had finally collapsed under the strain after the assassination of the Emperor, dissolving into civil war as clan fought clan for control of the rump that remained.

Katherine had found herself increasingly unable to cope with the daily news reports from the front, the images of ships breaking up, men and women screaming from their wounds, K’Soth worlds under orbital bombardment. She couldn’t help but feel blame, despite her common sense telling her that it would have come to pass anyway, sooner or later. She had seen the ugly face of war close up when the K’Soth had tried to take Maranos. She could never forget what she had seen there. What she remembered most was the smell. The stench of death: blood and charred flesh mingled with the smoke from a burning city and the spilt entrails of those executed by alien monsters.

If only they had turned back, if only their curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of them.

The isolation on the Dyson sphere had proved a blessing.

Katherine shuddered despite the warm air inside the station. In the midst of her dark thoughts she had wandered far down the station. She found herself in a street lined with all manner of shops catering to the needs of a variety of species. Shoppers thronged the broad pavements as small vehicles tried to negotiate the busy main thoroughfare.

‘Cheer up love, might never happen,’ said a reedy voice to her left. She turned a saw a small, swarthy man grinning at her from a pavement-side hatch. From the appearance of the booth he inhabited and the range of smells emitting from it he appeared to be in the business of selling fast food, although there was nothing pictured on the grubby menu board that Katherine recognised.

‘I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that,’ she replied wryly. ‘Thanks all the same.’

‘You new around here? You look like a tourist to me.’

‘Yes, something like that. I was just exploring the station, taking in the sights so to speak.’

‘Hah! Not many of them round here,’ the man replied. ‘But if you carry on down this street you’ll reach the main shopping area, such as it is. I suppose you could call it the centre of town if you weren’t being too pedantic about the shape of this place.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t suppose I could interest you in an Altairian squid kebab?’ he said and tapped a picture of something with tentacles that appeared to be climbing out of a pitta bread.

‘Uh, no thanks. I just ate.’

‘Right you are then, cheerio!’ he replied and disappeared inside his serving hatch.

Katherine continued down the street and sure enough, within a few minutes she found herself in an area lined with larger shops. Some half hearted effort had been made to make the streets more attractive, but the result was a selection of tired looking trees and tubs of plants that seemed to visibly wilt under the artificial daylight. The shops, though larger than those found elsewhere on the station, were poorly stocked and rather drab looking franchises found throughout Commonwealth space. Once you got beyond brightly lit window displays and ventured inside one realised how devoid they were of any charm or quality. There was a general air of provincial malaise about most of them. The selection of goods was poor whilst the prices were correspondingly exorbitant; the result of this far flung system being at the far end of long trading routes.

Katherine continued to wander and shortly realised that she was the only human in sight. Unwittingly she had entered one of the alien quarters. The shops here were smaller, but each seemed to be far better stocked than the drab Commonwealth franchises she had left behind her. She spent a while drinking in the sights and sounds of the place, the curious beings that bustled around her, the tiny shops lined with a plethora of bizarre produce up to their low ceilings.

After spending so long in near isolation on the Dyson Sphere it felt good to be among the throb of such a cosmopolitan place. She allowed herself to drift among the crowds, drinking in the atmosphere and venturing into a number of the more interesting looking shops.

Standing outside a shop selling animals, whilst the occupants of the pavement display hooted, warbled and squeaked at her from their wire cages, she saw a long low building across the street with a large sign fixed across its frontage that read: ‘Best Restaurant on Barstow Station, All Species Catered For.’ The message was repeated below in at least a dozen different sets of characters and pictograms. As the smell of food wafted across the street she detected scents she recognised and her stomach started to growl in protest at the strong tang of frying garlic. She realised with a start that she hadn’t eaten anything since the paltry fare they had been served on board the liner almost half a day earlier.

She crossed the street and looked inside the restaurant. It seemed busy with a largely human clientele and a smattering of other species. She wondered how on earth such a modestly sized place managed to cater for such a wide variety of metabolisms at once. In any case, the smell of the food and the popularity of the place seemed like a good omen so she went inside.

Three quarters of an hour later Katherine reclined in her seat, the empty bowl that had previously contained a sizeable chicken curry before her as she sipped the last of her iced water, munched on the remains of a naan bread and waited for the bill. The sign outside hadn’t lied, the food was good. She hadn’t had a decent curry for so long that she struggled to remember the last time she’d eaten one. She and Rekkid had been surviving for so long on ration packs and alien foods with the assistance of digestive supplements that she’d begun to forget what real human cooking tasted like. To find something like this so far from home was a surprise, but a comforting one nonetheless. She made a mental note to bring Rekkid here for a future meal. Her cantankerous Arkari friend had developed a taste for spicy food during his years among humans; he’d appreciate this place. She’d called him earlier but he was still engrossed in his studies and had ordered food from the compound’s canteen.

A bored looking waiter arrived and placed the bill by her right hand with a polite nod. As she reached for the folded slip of paper upon its small china plate her elbow was knocked by the passing casket of a Nahabe as it floated ponderously between tables. A gruff mechanical apology issued from a grill high up on the tall, coffin shaped conveyance as it proceeded towards the door and out into the street. Katherine rubbed the spot on her elbow where the angular carriage had struck her and wondered for a moment how such creatures managed to feed inside their caskets/vehicles/suits or whatever they were.

The Nahabe were something of an enigma. Although they fully participated in galactic affairs, it was virtually unheard of for landing rights to be granted to other species on the worlds that comprised the handful of systems that they inhabited out here on the fringe. They had never been seen outside of the coffin-like caskets that they resided inside, each of which differed subtly in terms of shape and external decoration. Many were decorated with strange swirling patterns that presumably served as some form of identification. Katherine tried to imagine a whole planet of the creatures, floating silently to and fro like so many sentient obelisks.

She had seen the mysterious creature earlier as its casket had sat at rest behind a table laden with plates and dishes of food. When she had looked again a few moments later the food had disappeared. Just another in the long line of weird things Katherine had seen on her travels. After the events she had witnessed in the past few years she tended to think she could best anyone in the telling of strange tales.

As she reached for the bill a second time she noticed that another item had appeared on the plate. A small card was placed upon the bill. Curious, she lifted it up and turned it over in her hand, revealing the printed side. It read:

You are in considerable danger. All is not as it appears. If you need to talk, contact us.

Your friends

Below the writing was an electronic address. Katherine pocketed the card, fumbled for her banking card, gave up and simply left a pile of paper currency on top of the bill before rushing out into the street. She scanned the crowd. Of the Nahabe there was no sign.

There was an urgent tap on her shoulder.

‘Miss, excuse me.’

Goddamn it, how had the alien slipped away so quickly?

‘Miss?’

She turned and saw the waiter standing in the restaurant doorway. He was clutching the wad of bills she had left. To her mild embarrassment he explained rather sheepishly that in her hurry she had overpaid by over a hundred credits.

Chapter 5

The shuttle descended swiftly out of a brilliant blue sky dominated by the marbled orb of the gas giant Tethys, sixth planet of the Achernar system, around which the lush moon Orinoco orbited once every six months. Orinoco was one of twenty catalogued bodies around Tethys, three of which besides Orinoco harboured life. The moons basked in the warmth of the oblate blue star whilst also warmed from within by the gravitational stresses imposed by the close proximity of their gaseous parent planet. As a result, the moons were scarred with chains of active volcanoes that deposited their exotic mineral wealth onto the surrounding landscape.

There had been some suggestions that the moons around the gas giants of Achernar had been terraformed in the past by some long vanished alien race. Certainly such an abundance of life was rare even in older systems, but for it to occur in such a young system as Achernar was unheard of. Conjecture and scientific study aside, the system now formed a local hub in the Commonwealth trade routes due to the richness of its many verdant moons and the abundance of resources and living space they provided for humans. With a number of more industrially based systems within easy reach, Achernar was a haven for traders and in addition, the number of exotic and often illegal substances produced by the local wildlife made it a positive goldmine for smugglers and other nefarious elements. The harsh justice dealt out by the local police and military forces was well known throughout the Commonwealth. ‘Achernar policing’ had become a byword for shoot first and ask questions later methods of crime prevention, but it was a big system, and a cunning captain with a fast ship who kept a low profile could make a fortune providing that he was never caught.

The squat shuttle came to rest on the broad landing pad with a whine of AG motors and began to disgorge its cargo of passengers that it had brought from the orbital station that glinted in the sky above like a day-time star. Orinoco Station hung at the Lagrange point between the moon and Tethys, and was a moonlet that had been hollowed out, made airtight and habitable and then spun to create one standard gravity within.

Isaacs stepped off the boarding ramp and glanced upwards at that tiny man made world where his ship now resided in a maintenance dock under the care of a Navy engineering team. Squinting in the harsh sunlight he followed the line of passengers into the terminal building at the heart of a pattern of landing pads and runways that formed a plain of concrete on the outskirts of Orinoco’s principal settlement, Bolivar City. Having passed through planetary customs he boarded the maglev train into the city centre where he alighted and then made his way on foot through the grid of dusty streets.

Bolivar City was a busy place. The streets hummed with traffic and the comings and goings of its ten million citizens. Achernar was a popular destination for human settlers and had been for almost a century. Even so, the system’s twenty billion inhabitants were spread thinly throughout the eighty or so catalogued bodies in the system resulting in few truly large cities by Commonwealth standards. Bolivar had grown up near the first spaceport on Orinoco, forming a hub of trade on the moon with the station locked in the Lagrange point above it. There was a lot of money to be made here, if you were ambitious or lucky enough. Bolivar City had the feel of somewhere on the make. As he walked, Isaacs noted that a few new buildings had sprung up even since his last visit barely a few months ago, glittering new structures in ever more daring forms. Yet more fashionable restaurants and exclusive shopping boutiques had also appeared, no doubt replacing the equally cutting edge establishments that had been there before until they had fallen foul of the fickle whims of the city’s populace. Isaacs chuckled to himself at some of the more outlandish fashions sported by the people milling past him as he walked, and noted a few returned looks of snobbish amusement at his slightly shabby appearance - not that he cared. Besides, where he was heading, fashion wasn’t an issue.

Isaacs took a right down a narrow alleyway between two recently erected and as yet unoccupied skyscrapers. Behind this modern façade lay an older part of the city belonging to the original settlement. He walked between rows of slightly sagging buildings, cheap modular constructions that had been thrown up in a hurry, decades earlier, to cope with the sudden influx of people eager to escape the overcrowded Solar System and start a new life. One of the larger units bore a flickering holo-sign that depicted a slightly off colour glass of beer revolving slowly over the door with the word ‘Mulligan’s’ hovering just over the lintel. Isaacs could never work out where the name came from, the owner wasn’t even human, never mind of Irish descent. It welcomed Isaacs like an old friend as he stepped inside.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloomy interior having come from the bright sunshine outside. It gave everyone in the bar time to look him over as he entered before he could see them, a sensible precaution when many patrons of Mulligan’s preferred to remain out of sight. For now, the bar was fairly quiet. A couple of Hyrdians talked in low voices in one of the booths, a few humans had gathered around the battered pool table at the back of the long low room and a sole drunk hunched over his drink at the large island bar, staring intently at the rising bubbles in the electric blue liquid in his glass. Isaacs was of the opinion that you should never, ever drink anything blue.

He sat down on one the cracked bar stools a couple of places away from the drunk and waited for the barman, a large Vreeth by the name of Ittuck, to notice him. Isaacs eyed the ponderous being as it polished glasses, gripping them in its dextrous tentacles as it worked but apparently only succeeding in re-arranging the patterns of grease on them a little. One of Ittuck’s compound eyes swivelled his way. The creature replaced the glass he was holding on the bar, inflated his gas bladders and swam over to him.

‘Isaacs! Long time since you were in here last!’ The tinny voice came from the cheap translation amulet that Ittuck wore strapped around the base of one his primary tentacles, turning his native language of clicks and chirps into languages intelligible to his varied customers.

‘It’s certainly been a few months now. You’ve put on weight I see,’ Isaacs jibed back, pointing a finger towards Ittuck’s ponderous body.

‘What? Just a little middle aged spread I assure you. Besides, what’s the point of life if you can’t enjoy it, eh?’ One of Ittuck’s tentacles slapped his flanks as if to emphasise the point.

‘Sometimes I wonder how you stay afloat, I really do.’

‘Pah! Food is good for one’s float bladders. Plenty of methane! So, what brings you here?’

‘Well, a drink would be really welcome. You still getting that really good beer from Arcturus?’

‘Of course, my human customers love it! Coming up.’

‘And well, I was wondering if you’d heard of any interesting jobs going.’

‘I see, I thought as much,’ said Ittuck and placed a cool, foaming glass of beer in front of Isaacs who waved his banking card in the direction of the register and began to drink gratefully. Ittuck eyed his progress down the glass and started to pour another. ‘Last I heard you’d got some crazy contract in Imperial space getting refugees out. Frankly, I thought that’d be the last we’d see of you, my friend.’

‘Well, you almost thought right.’

‘I hope it was worth it, the money I mean.’

‘Yeah, it worked out pretty well actually, better than the original deal. My clients were very generous.’

‘Go on, tell me about it,’ said Ittuck as he watched Isaacs begin his second drink with almost as much enthusiasm as the first.

An hour later and Isaacs was retelling his story for the third time to a group of freighter crewmen who had wandered in and had overheard his second telling of his recent escapades to the group of pool sharks that Isaacs had befriended, having discovered that he knew one of them from an old job in Delta Pavonis. Isaacs was now onto his sixth drink and was rather more animated than when he had strolled into the bar earlier.

‘So then by this point I’m convinced that we’re totally fucked. I mean there’s no way these bastards are going to let me go, you know what those lizards are like once they get pissed off, right?’ There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement. ‘Anyway, fuck me if this other, bigger, K’Soth ship doesn’t jump in right on top of us and starts shooting the shit out of the one that’s got me! Fucking plasma cannon missed me by centimetres I’m telling you, took out that War Temple in one go. I only just managed to hit the drives before the fucking thing’s reactor went critical, pretty lucky to get away actually. Back of the ship was melted to shit.’

‘Fucking hell, Isaacs,’ said the pool player that Isaacs had recognised, whose name was Willard. ‘You don’t half like to cut it fine. Are you sure it was worth risking getting your balls shot off by Imperial warships? I hope they paid you enough.’

‘Yeah, I did pretty well out of it actually. They even paid for my ship repairing.’

‘Some of those K’Soth families are pretty flush with cash you know,’ said one of the freighter crewmen. ‘Guy I know got a load out last month. Almost made enough to retire on. Course his ship’s much bigger than yours, one of them new civvy models of the Pelican transports the military use. Nice ship. How much did you make?’

‘Three hundred thousand,’ said Isaacs with a hint of smugness. There were a few impressed noises from his audience.

‘Not bad for a ship the size of yours,’ said Willard. ‘They must have been desperate alright.’

‘Yeah well, I found out why didn’t I? Someone must’ve wanted them pretty badly to send that War Temple after them.’

A heavy hand landed on Isaacs’ shoulder. He smelt cigarette smoke and stale beer on the breath that issued from the mouth that now spoke in a hoarse, calm manner by his left ear.

‘Well if you’ve got three hundred thousand, that should almost cover the money we’re owed won’t it? Or maybe we’ll have your ship instead; I hear it’s a nice model too.’

Isaacs turned on his stool and looked into the cold grey eyes of a large, well built man with a black tattoo that coiled its way like a creeping vine up his neck, then around the side of his face until it framed his left eye socket. Bulldog, unshaven features topped with a close cropped bullet shaped head glowered at him. The man’s leather jacket bulged ominously under the pits beneath his bear-like arms. Everything about the man’s stature spoke of illegal genetic alterations.

‘And who the fuck are you?’ replied Isaacs, overly confident with drink, and instantly regretted it as the man grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him half way across the bar to land against a table with a force that knocked the wind from him. Isaacs struggled to stand as the man mountain bore down on him and hauled him to his feet. Some of the group he had been entertaining with his story were coming to their senses and moving to intervene. The giant produced some sort of hand cannon from his jacket and waved it at them and Ittuck who was reaching for the emergency police call button under the bar.

‘Any of you fuckers feel like being a hero?’ barked the giant. ‘Sit the fuck back down. This is private business between Mr Bennett and this sack of shit here. You all know Mr Bennett right? In fact if I recall some of you owe him money too, including you Ittuck, you fucking fart filled balloon. You ain’t seen nothing unusual, right? Don’t worry I ain’t gonna kill ‘im. Dead blokes don’t pay up.’

With that he dragged Isaacs outside by his collar.

Isaacs landed heavily in the pile of rubbish filled bags in the alleyway, his head ringing from the blow that the giant had just landed on his left ear. The giant strode over and aimed a kick at Isaacs’ guts then watched with grim satisfaction as his victim proceeded to vomit up the six pints of beer he had just consumed.

‘Now,’ said the giant with exaggerated slowness. ‘Where. Is. Mister. Bennett’s. Fucking. Money?’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ replied Isaacs hoarsely, and then spat out a chunk of puke. The giant sighed and pushed his face into the fresh pool of vomit with the sole of his boot.

‘You owe Mr Bennett four hundred thousand credits, that’s what I’m fucking talking about. You got the money, I heard you in there, boasting to that fucking shower of arseholes at the bar. You’d better pay up.’ The giant turned him over, produced the hand cannon again and pointed it at Isaac’s groin.

‘What? Wait, you said you wouldn’t kill me!’

‘You might survive. Though of course whether you’ll want to is a bit different isn’t it? Maybe your fucking wife will miss this more than the four hundred thousand.’

‘What the fuck has my wife got to do with this?’

‘‘Cause it was her that borrowed the fucking money wasn’t it?’ replied the giant slowly and deliberately. ‘We can’t find her, so you’ll have to pay. I’m telling you, it was a fucking godsend when one of the lads saw your name on that shuttle’s passenger manifest. What did you come here for you stupid cunt?’

‘My wife? Fuck’s sake, I’ve not seen her in over two years.’

‘What? You telling me you’re divorced?’

‘Not exactly

’

The giant started to laugh. The hoarse throaty sound echoed in the confines of the alleyway.

‘Looks like she’s fucked you good and proper, sunshine. Gave your name and everything when she borrowed the money. Said we should contact you if there was a problem

fuck me, you must have really pissed her off, she’s not paid a fucking cent since.’

‘Yeah, well I have nothing to do with any of this.’

‘Sorry mate,’ said the giant, putting his gun away. ‘But your fucking name’s on the paper. We’ve got our boys watching your ship, so don’t think about running off before you go see Mr Bennett. Either you come up with the goods, or mister one megawatt here

’ he said patting the hand cannon under his jacket, ‘is gonna make sure that you having any future wives might be out of the question, you get my drift?’

‘Could I speak with Mr Bennett?’

‘I don’t think you have choice, sunshine. You’re coming with me for a little chat with him. Very respectable man is Mr Bennett. That’s why he has to use people like me, see? Someone has to maintain that respect. Now come with me.’

Isaacs picked himself up, attempted to wipe the vomit from his face and hair, swore profusely at the stink, his injuries and situation he now found himself in and walked out of the alleyway with the giant following him every step of the way.

In the back of the car to Bennett’s office Isaacs managed to get the rancid chunks of vomit out of his hair and clothes, but despite his best efforts the stench remained. The giant never took his eyes off him whilst another, slender man drove the hydrogen powered vehicle through the busy streets

Bennett’s office was on one of the upper floors of a slender glass and steel building half way down San Cristobal Boulevard. Isaacs had to endure the obviously disdainful glances of the well heeled pedestrians outside and was entirely stonewalled by Bennett’s receptionist until the giant intervened. She made him wait outside on the cheap plastic furniture whilst she went inside to discuss his presence with her boss. After a few minutes she returned and informed Isaacs that Mr Bennett would see him now. Isaacs thanked her and went inside, noting the way her nose wrinkled with disgust as he passed her.

The office beyond was spacious and tastefully furnished. Carefully placed artworks from a number of species adorned the room, whilst a gently curving window filled the far wall, the view looking out across the city towards the landing field where a few indistinct specks could be seen rising and descending to and from the surface. A middle aged man with swept back, greying hair turned from the scene and regarded his latest arrival with curiosity.

‘Good afternoon Mr Isaacs, please: have a seat,’ said Bennett and gestured to the antique wooden chair in front of the equally antique mahogany desk and high backed chair that he now seated himself in. Isaacs did as he asked and eyed Bennett’s suit. Clothing like that spoke of money. Even in these technologically advanced times a high quality suit required the skill and judgement that only a good tailor could provide. Such services did not come cheap. However, despite his cultured accent and the sophistication with which Bennett surrounded himself with, there was a hardness to his appearance that belied his street origins. Isaacs knew a gangster made good when he saw one.

‘Now, this is about the money you owe me, correct?’

‘No, it’s about the money my wife owes you. I tried to explain that to the shaved gorilla you employ on collection duty, after he’d kicked the shit out of me.’

‘Well I’m very sorry Mr Isaacs, but your name is clearly on the policy that your wife Anna Isaacs took out with us. It’s all perfectly legitimate, you see,’ he said and tossed Isaacs a printed form detailing the sum his wife had borrowed: two hundred thousand, the interest rate: fifty per cent per annum and showing both her name and his and both their signatures, though his had been clumsily forged.

Fuck, thought Isaacs.

‘Yeah, well if you’re so fucking legitimate, why are you hiring thugs like the man mountain that gave me this,’ said Isaacs pointing to the cut above his lip where the giant had thrown him to the floor. ‘As far as I’m concerned you can take this policy, with my signature forged on it no less, and stick it up your arse.’

‘Charming. Mr Isaacs I couldn’t give a flying fuck whether that’s your signature or not on that piece of paper. I want my fucking money! Your bitch of a wife has disappeared, so that leaves you.’

‘Well, you should really be more careful who you lend it to then, shouldn’t you? Some people are more than happy to take you for a ride, my estranged wife for example. Now if you don’t mind

’ he started to get up.

‘Mr Isaacs,’ said Bennett calmly. ‘It might interest to know that I belong to the Sirius Syndicate, I’m sure as a freelancer operating around the shadier parts of the Commonwealth that you’ve heard of our activities?’

Isaacs felt his guts turn to water. He’d heard of the Syndicate alright. They weren’t just a criminal organisation; they were an alliance of organised criminals who had joined together in a mutually beneficial arrangement in the face of concerted efforts by the Commonwealth to curtail their activities. They had a very long reach indeed, if rumour was to be believed. Isaacs had heard a few grisly stories about what happened to those who crossed them. Even minor infractions were punished with lethal and inventive revenge.

‘I see you have heard of us,’ said Bennett, having noticed his expression. ‘So you see, you have a choice: either you bring us the money we are owed, or Laurence will be paying you another visit, one that you won’t be walking away from quite so easily. Don’t think you can run off and hide, Laurence will find you eventually. Space is big, but he is patient hunter and we have the resources to find you wherever you are… eventually. ‘

Laurence? Thought Isaacs, the man mountain was called Laurence? He stifled the urge to giggle, despite himself.

‘You find this

amusing?’

‘No.’

‘Good. Laurence is a very thorough man from my experience. Do not mistake his apelike appearance for stupidity. He’s very adept at tracking people down through our contacts. He will find you, and then you, my smirking friend, will spend your last hours screaming in a locked basement for help that will never arrive as he gets to work on you. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes.’ Isaacs replied simply, a lump forming in his throat.

‘You will pay us the money, or else

’

‘I understand. I think I need to speak with my wife.’ He remembered her last address. She wouldn’t still be there, but it was a start. She’d been renting an apartment in an asteroid trading post in the Quralish system. Quralish

that was in Nahabe space wasn’t it? She’d probably have moved on, she’d have stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all those Nahabe floating about in their caskets. Still, it meant that someone there might remember her.

‘I do hope you have more success than we did Mr Isaacs.’

‘I’ll, uh

I’ll see myself out.’

‘The money, Mr Isaacs. Before the end of the month.’

It was only afterwards, that Isaacs started to wonder why the Syndicate with all its resources had been unable to reach Anna. If they could track him down so easily like they claimed, why could they not get to her?

It was a long walk back to the landing field, and the journey back up to Orinoco Station was, as he had expected, rather embarrassing. By the time the shuttle docked, the whole of the warm cabin stank of his vomit-stained clothes. It was with great relief that he returned to his ship in the Navy repair dock. Though he found he was greeted by a few puzzled looks from the technicians in and around it, he was relieved to see that none of Bennett’s men seemed to be around, or at the very least they were not making themselves visible. The ship was the only place he felt safe now. If he couldn’t find Anna he’d have to keep running for the rest of his soon-to-be-shortened life. As soon as the repairs were finished he’d go.

Once Isaacs had left, a large figure entered Bennett’s office.

‘Ah Laurence, I have a task for you.’

‘Yes Mr Bennett.’

‘Follow Isaacs. He has friends and contacts among the trader community that we don’t. Find out where his wife is, where her friends are hiding too and then report back to me. Our clients need this information quickly.’

‘Yes Mr Bennett.’

‘I know you excel at these sorts of things, so I expect results, as do our clients. They paid a lot of money for this job to be done right and so will you be if you succeed. It was fortunate for us that this chance presented itself. Mr Isaacs fell into our lap at just the right time’

‘Yes Mr Bennett.’

‘Why only last week, the Syndicate had no leads whatsoever. Not a single captain across the Commonwealth had heard a word about anyone connected to the Hidden Hand.’

‘Yes boss.’

‘You understand that we have to keep this quiet. This job is very sensitive. If any connection was made between us and our clients…’

‘I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll be discreet.’

‘Good.’

Chapter 6

Katherine rose early, showered and dressed and went to find Rekkid, who was not in his room as she had expected. After asking around she eventually found him in the basement level of the compound, sitting in darkness in one of the observation decks that protruded, blister-like, from the outer surface of the station. The Arkari was staring out at the slowly revolving scene beyond the layers of glass and shields. Rhyolite dominated the view, its mottled surface smeared with the yellow expanses of sulphur deserts blasted from the blackened cones of the volcanoes that dotted its surface. Beyond, Beatty laid half in shadow, its ring cutting a faint line across the leading edge of advancing night before it too faded into blackness. A couple of shepherd moons hovered ghostlike at the edge of vision on the planet’s day side; icy lumps of rock barely visible against the brown banded whorls of cloud. As Katherine watched, a bright spot appeared just behind the terminator line, shining with growing fiery brilliance against the darkness. Looking closer she saw a series of dimly glowing spots that faded into dark smudges that stitched a line along the planet’s plane of rotation as a shell of glowing gas began to mushroom from the new impact point.

‘Rekkid?’ she said. ‘What are you doing? ‘

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he replied. ‘I was browsing through the local newsfeed when I heard about this.’ He gestured at the scene beyond. ‘Impressive isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, what am I looking at? I think I just saw an explosion.’

‘It’s a comet. Apparently it swung by here a few decades ago and the gas giant’s gravity captured it and caused it to loop around and come back again. It broke the comet up into chunks as it did so, and now one by one they’re slamming into the planet at a not inconsiderable speed. Makes for a quite a firework display doesn’t it?’

‘It certainly does. I think this is as close as I’d like to get to it though.’

She watched as waves of lightning flashes began to spread from the point of impact as the energy dissipated by the collision started to play havoc with the already volatile weather of the gas giant. Ripples of lightning expanded like the waves from a stone dropped into a pool.

‘Apparently this sort of thing is quite common in these parts, it being such a young system,’ said Rekkid. As if to emphasise his point a shower of meteorites struck the station energy shielding, leaving a series of glowing sparks as they were annihilated.

‘You’ve been awake all night?’

‘Yes well, I worked late and then

well I had a lot on my mind. I came here to think I suppose, as well as to watch the show. It has wonderfully primeval quality, don’t you think?’

‘And just what did you have on your mind?’ Katherine pressed. Rekkid liked his little secrets, something she knew only too well.

‘That strange message you received last night. Something’s going on here that we don’t know about Katherine.’

‘We only just got here you know,’ she replied glibly and instantly felt a little foolish. ‘Hey, maybe we should try contacting that address.’

‘Hmm. I’m not sure that we should, just yet.’

‘Perhaps they were genuinely trying to help us, whoever they are.’

‘Yes. But what I don’t understand is why we are here in the first place.’

‘Well, the Navy say that they found some Progenitor era relics here that they’d like us to take a look at. Seems pretty straightforward to me.’

‘It does, does it? The Progenitors were gone from the galaxy nearly five billion years or so before this system even existed. Hadar is a relatively young system, only a few tens of millions of years, hence the light show.’ He indicated the scene in front of them with a slender hand.

‘Maybe they were wrong in their assessment, or maybe they found them elsewhere and brought them here.’

‘Possibly. But if they found them elsewhere I don’t know why they didn’t leave them in situ for us to examine. We’re not being told everything here, Katherine. I think we should be on our guard, especially if our mystery would-be guardians are right.’

‘Maybe you’re being too suspicious,’ she said, half in jest. ‘Maybe it was just some random local crackpot. Humans don’t have a monopoly on those you know. Still

’ she shivered a little.

‘I know. Last time we failed to heed any warnings

’

‘We started a war.’

‘Quite.’

Katherine stood at Rekkid’s shoulder for a moment, in silence. The impact on the surface of Beatty was fading. A glowing ring of cooling gas was falling back to the planet’s cloudy surface. She remembered a similar, smaller explosion - though one no less deadly - when the captain of the orbiting K’Soth warship had turned the craft’s main gun on the city that they had been sheltering in, effectively dropping the heart of star onto a city of thousands of cowering inhabitants. She shuddered at the memory and turned back to Rekkid, who from his expression seemed to be reliving similar memories.

‘Do you mind if I play the suspicious one for a moment?’ she asked.

‘Go on,’ he responded warily.

‘What were you working on when I called at your room yesterday evening? I saw Progenitor script on your screen.’

‘Ah.’

‘Ah, indeed.’

‘Well. Let’s just say that Mentith isn’t the only one who has a copy of those data wafers we unearthed back on the Dyson Sphere. When we uncovered the first ones, I took the liberty of backing up as many of the wafers as possible once a colleague of mine had jury rigged interfaces for reading them.’

‘For God’s sake Rekkid!’ said Katherine. ‘Mentith will skin you alive if he finds out about this.’

‘He won’t. I got the impression that he was following his orders rather grudgingly. I’m sure he’d like us to apply ourselves to examining their contents. He seemed rather put out that he’d been overruled you know. He’s no fool, I’m quite sure he’d appreciate a second opinion’

‘What about this colleague of yours? What if he or she lets slip your little misdemeanour?’

‘He won’t. Ormintu’s an old friend back from our last spot of bother. He has no love for the military and also access to Progenitor machine language and written language archives. The Esacir species are mostly pacifists and he’s particularly prone to anti-militaristic sentiments, especially after Mentith stormed into his lab looking for me and that log that we found. Apparently it was quite a sight to behold when the War Marshall was escorted off the Riianto Bubble City by the Esacir.’

‘Well, I hope you know what you’re doing,’ sighed Katherine. ‘Did you find anything interesting?’

‘Nothing earth shattering, no. It seems that the wafers are daily records of transmissions sent and received by that particular installation. We were right in our assessment that it was military, by the way, but everything I’ve read through so far has been pretty routine day to day stuff, albeit from a society at war. Interesting in its own right I suppose, but nothing of real top secret importance.’

‘It makes you wonder what they left in the records for us to find.’

‘It certainly does. I’ll let you know if I find anything. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if those self important fools in our government just caught wind of it being of a military nature and went into their usual paranoid overkill mode of operating.’

‘Hmm. Can’t say I have a great deal of fondness for politicians, but given the sort of war we’re fighting - if you can call it that - I’m prepared to forgive them for their paranoia, knowing the things that they do.’

‘Yes, but bearing in mind our government’s usual way of doing business I wouldn’t be surprised if they manage to tie the whole thing up in endless bureaucracy and committee hearings until we’ve all died of old age. I personally can’t wait that long and I can’t help it when my curiosity gets the better of me.’

‘Well, you know what curiosity did

’

‘No

oh, something about cats.’

‘Old human expression.’

‘One whose true meaning escapes me I’m afraid.’

‘Sorry Rekkid, sometimes I forget that you’re not one of us.’

‘I think I’m flattered. I think

I suppose I have gone native rather after all these years,’ he said and then turned his attention back to the revolving panorama outside as if in contemplation. Katherine broke the silence after a moment:

‘We should be going,’ she said. ‘I don’t know about you but I could use some breakfast before this meeting we’re supposed to be attending.’

‘Hmm, you know one of the other reasons I came down here was to try and cure my nausea from this bloody place whirling round and round. I thought if I stared at this scene long enough I might get used it.’

‘And?’

‘Didn’t work,’ Rekkid answered hurriedly. ‘I think I’m going to throw up if I stay here any longer.’

He got up hastily and staggered to the door.

The long, well lit room was dominated by the wooden conference table, its dark, polished surface reflecting the faces of the various persons seated around its gracefully curving edges. At its head, the stern figure of Admiral Cox sipped his morning coffee and frowned at something on the datapad he was perusing. The salt and pepper moustache on his dark brown face wrinkled as he did so. To his left sat Rekkid and Katherine. Rekkid had regained some of his composure, having been forced by his colleague to consume a full fried breakfast. She treated his expression and occasional mutters of complaint with amusement. Opposite them sat another figure. He too, was an archaeologist.

Doctor Reynaud was well known to both Rekkid and Katherine as a professional rival and darling of the media, given to publicly rubbishing his opponents and making sensationalist claims in the popular press which had even resulted in him presenting his own documentary series’ about some of the wilder ones. His finely sculpted features regarded the pair opposite with an expression of mild disdain and amusement.

‘Well, well,’ he finally said, his cultured tones carrying a hint of his French accent. ‘Whatever are you two doing all the way out here? After being absent from the public eye for so long, I was starting to believe that you had both given in to the inevitable and found some other profession.’

‘It’s so nice to see you again Henri,’ replied Katherine. ‘I’d forgotten just how charming and witty you can be.’ She gave him an icy smile.

‘Well one tries. Really Katherine, it is a pleasure to see you again. But I can’t understand why you persist in working with Professor Cor. His reputation is hardly pristine. If you and I were to work together you could go so much further than you have. You know I’ve been commissioned for another series?’

‘Congratulations,’ replied Katherine, unimpressed. ‘What is about this time, Atlantis? How little green men built the pyramids? Wait, no you did that one

’

‘Katherine, it is well known that the Arkari probably visited Earth in our ancient history. It is not inconceivable that the peoples of that time would have perceived them as gods.’

‘“It is well known. Probably. It is not inconceivable.” Could you have got any more qualifying statements into that sentence?’ said Rekkid. ‘You always did come out with the most sensationalist, unsupported theories. What a load of rubbish.’

‘My readers would disagree. You know, my last book was the biggest selling popular historical work across the Commonwealth last year? Let me see, how many devoted readers do you both have to absorb your most enlightening theories? Oh wait, neither of you have published anything for around three years, and let me see

the last thing either of you produced was ridiculed by all who read it as I seem to recall. Something about there being an ancient Arkari civilisation that somehow had been lost to everyone except yourselves all this time. Who’s writing about Atlantis now, eh Katherine?’ He cocked an eyebrow at her and chuckled at his own remark.

‘The Arkari would appear to think otherwise, Henri,’ said Rekkid. ‘We’ve been busy re-classifying our ancient artefacts ever since Katherine and I made our discovery.’

‘Is that so?’ replied Reynaud. ‘I have seen no evidence of such work.’

‘Well, why would they tell you?’ said Katherine. ‘You’d only turn up five minutes later with a recording crew and annoy the hell out of them before claiming credit for yourself.’

‘I detect a hint of jealousy at my popularity. What can I say? I work well with the visual medium.’ As if to emphasise the point he brushed a hand through his neat, thinning hair. ‘You might want to consider such a move yourself my dear,’ he continued. ‘If you scrubbed up a little and stood in front of a camera I’m sure the public would love you.’

‘Nice,’ replied Katherine. ‘I’d rather I was recognised for my work, if it’s all the same to you.’

Reynaud shook his head in an exaggerated expression of disappointment.

Admiral Cox cut in. ‘When the three of you have finished denting one another’s egos I’d like to get down to business,’ he said, his booming voice silencing the bickering academics. ‘I have no time for professional rivalry between the people working for me. We have a job to do and I will not stand for such attitudes. Doctor Reynaud is heading up the archaeological side of our operations. Professor Cor and Doctor O’Reilly, you will assist him in whatever way possible. Now, if I might brief you both as to the task at hand. Henri, I apologise if you’ve heard all of this before, but it is necessary that our new arrivals be brought up to speed.’

‘We’d appreciate that Admiral,’ said Rekkid. ‘Katherine and I are a little in the dark as to what all this is about.’

‘Unfortunately a certain amount of discretion was necessary,’ Cox replied. ‘However, to cut to the chase: six months ago we uncovered what we believe to be a Progenitor vessel. We were hoping with your previous experience of this ancient species that you might be able to tell us more about them. Some of the artefacts we have here would appear to have writing on their surfaces, which you might be able to decrypt

We’d ah

we’d be most interested in the technological possibilities that might arise from any knowledge we might acquire from them.’

Katherine took a deep breath. ‘Although the prospect of investigating a Progenitor vessel fascinates me, with all due respect Admiral, neither Rekkid or I are interested in helping you build better guns for the military. Our research will be of a purely historical nature. He and I have fallen foul of this kind of scenario before. I seem to recall that last time we uncovered Progenitor technology you people managed to start a war over it.’

‘A war which the Commonwealth won, Doctor,’ Cox replied. ‘And it isn’t just weapons technology we’re interested in. What about medical advances, energy sources, new methods of communication or computer technology? The Commonwealth has proven itself to be a major new power in this galaxy during the war. We must seize every opportunity to build our future among the stars, without reliance upon elder races who have kept us in the dark and who have kept their technology from us for too long as though we were children who could not be trusted with their adult toys. No offence Professor.’

‘None taken, I assure you; they tend to treat me the same way since I decided to stay in the Commonwealth. We still have our doubts though,’ Rekkid replied.

‘Perhaps if I were to show you some of the pieces? I have a selection with me here,’ said Cox and went to a locked metal cabinet in the corner of the room. From it he produced a large strongbox which he carried to the table and opened with an electronic key. Inside the padded interior lay a number of small shards. They were fragments of black crystal whose surface reflected light with a dull, oily sheen. Cox placed the objects in the centre of the table. Katherine and Rekkid regarded them with intense interest.

‘Well, what do you think?’ said Reynaud. ‘They are fascinating, are they not?’

‘Very,’ said Katherine as she regarded the shifting hues on the surface of one of the items. There seemed to be regular patterns within its depths. It did look like writing.

‘We have hundred or so more. These were found around the vessel. We believe they broke off when it crashed,’ said Cox. ‘We’ve got enough Progenitor material here to keep you busy for months, years even. Have you seen the writing inside the crystals?’

‘They weren’t made by the Progenitors, I can tell you that much,’ said Rekkid.

‘Are you quite sure?’ said Reynaud. ‘We have analysed a number of these objects and they appear to be of the correct age.’

‘I’m sure they are of the correct age,’ said Rekkid. ‘But the writing on this… whatever it is,’ he picked up a slim shard with jagged broken edges, the light catching the characters etched within it. ‘It isn’t the Progenitor language we know. The characters aren’t the same. It’s a totally different script.’

‘Can’t you read it at all?’ said Cox.

‘Unfortunately not, no,’ said Rekkid. ‘I’d need some sort of key or primer. Without that it’s indecipherable.’

‘But if the Progenitors didn’t make these artefacts, then who did?’ Cox continued.

‘Difficult to say,’ said Katherine. ‘The Progenitors may have been the dominant galactic power five billion years ago, but there were many other races around at the time. Unfortunately, we have little information on most, save for what scraps we’ve gleaned from Progenitor records.’

‘You mean the entity you claim to have encountered,’ said Reynaud.

‘Entities,’ corrected Katherine. ‘Yes, Varish and the personality that inhabited the Maranos portal did give us some information, as well as what parts of the copy of Varish’s memories that the Esacir have managed to decipher so far.’

‘Which have never been corroborated, largely because when Commonwealth research teams gained access to the portal device they found nothing except corrupted data in its memory banks, leading them to conclude that the device had in fact been activated accidentally. Your ‘entity’ was completely absent.’

‘Good,’ said Katherine. ‘That’s because Varish killed him, and then used the portal himself to leave this galaxy for good.’

‘All very convenient,’ Reynaud scoffed.

‘Alright, thank you!’ Cox snapped impatiently. ‘In that case Doctor, Professor, determining the origins of these artefacts will also fall into your remit. Especially since Henri here claimed that they were in fact created by the Progenitors. It would seem that he needs your help more than he realised,’ he added drily.

‘Admiral, it would a great help to us if we could see the location where these artefacts were found. It would give us a better insight into their purpose and origins as well as perhaps a more accurate assessment of their age,’ said Katherine

‘I’m afraid that is impossible,’ said Reynaud. ‘The original site where the artefacts were found is off limits. Only those with proper authorisation may visit it.’

‘Yes, thank you Doctor,’ said Cox, his voice bearing more than a trace of irritation. ‘But I was about to inform our two newest team members that I have arranged for the correct clearance to be granted to them to allow them to visit the dig site and participate in the excavation.’

‘But Admiral, are you sure they can be trusted with this information? I was led to believe that I and my team would be granted exclusive access rights to the dig site.’

‘Professor Cor and Doctor O’Reilly are now part of that team Henri. I summoned them here so that they could assist us and they have the highest civilian security clearance on projects of this nature. You will have to put your professional rivalries aside for the moment.’

Reynaud fell silent. He folded his arms across his chest and fumed.

‘In short, we have discovered what we had believed to be a Progenitor vessel on the surface of the moon below. Obviously this find is of immense scientific and historical importance and represents an incredible opportunity for us as an interstellar power.’

‘Is the ship intact?’ Katherine asked.

‘Largely intact, yes.’

‘Forgive me for asking Admiral,’ said Rekkid. ‘But isn’t this system a little young to be harbouring relics of that age? It’s far too young by a margin of nearly four billion years. To be honest I was expecting you to tell me that the artefacts had come from another system. If you ask me, this casts further doubt on your assumption of the origins of these objects.’

‘If I might shed a little light on the subject,’ said Reynaud. ‘We have dated the wreck and it is of the correct age, as are these objects as I already explained. It seems possible that the ship was drifting before it was dragged in by the gravity of the newly formed system and crashed onto the moon below us. We found it half buried in a vast lava plain of recent origin. Quite how it survived the crash landing and the heat of the molten lava we don’t know, but it appears largely intact so far as we’ve excavated it.’

‘It is important that you both realise that this is a military operation,’ said Cox. ‘As such, until further notice any information pertaining to it is to be regarded as classified, is that clear?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Rekkid, his face a deadpan mask. However, Katherine caught his eye and could tell that her friend’s curiosity had been well and truly piqued. The twinkle she knew so well was clearly visible to her in those dark, glassy orbs.

‘Excellent,’ said Cox. ‘I hope we can work well with one another. There are just a few formalities, paperwork and whatnot, aside from that if you can be at number sixteen shuttle dock at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Oh and just one other thing. Do either of you have experience of wearing environment suits?’

‘Yes,’ the Katherine and Rekkid replied in unison, a note of dread creeping into Rekkid’s voice.

‘Very good. Professor Cor, we will do our utmost to find you a suitable suit to match your Arkari physiology.’

‘Even a pair of gloves with the right number of fingers would be nice.’

‘Of course. I’ll see what I can do. Henri of course will be accompanying you to the dig site. He’ll brief you fully once you arrive. I’m sorry I can’t provide you with much information before you arrive, but I’m sure you appreciate the importance of discretion.’

There was a murmur of agreement from around the table.

‘Then if there are no further questions that will be all. Good day.’ Cox gathered his notes and briskly left the room, leaving Reynaud to clear away the artefacts he had shown them. The archaeologist held one of the shards and turned it over thoughtfully in his slender hands.

‘Imagine,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. ‘Imagine what secrets we might uncover for the benefit of humanity. What secrets the ancient races of this galaxy might give up for our benefit? Think of the knowledge we could unlock Katherine!’ he said and looked directly at her. Rekkid rolled his eyes. ‘Work with me,’ he continued, ‘and I guarantee that you will share in that success. Think about it.’ He placed the object back in the box with the others, locked the container then started to leave the room. As he reached the door he turned back to her and as his parting shot said: ‘I know you’ll make the right choice.’

When Reynaud was safely out of the room Katherine turned to Rekkid, whose face was a mix of disgust and amusement.

‘Don’t,’ she said.

‘I think someone is taking more than a professional interest in you.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I know you’ll make the right choice,’ said Rekkid, parodying Reynaud’s accent.

‘If you think for a second that I’d ever

’

‘Don’t worry I won’t get in the way. It’ll give me an opportunity to study the courtship rituals of the human species.’

‘Oh, sod off.’

Rekkid simply laughed and started to pack away his things.

‘Another mysterious alien wreck, eh Rekkid?’ said Katherine.

‘Yes. It seems the Commonwealth have found something interesting, even if it isn’t a Progenitor ship. I hope Reynaud’s right you know, I really do. I’m just not so enthusiastic about his motives, or those of Admiral Cox.’

‘We do have a way of finding trouble, don’t we?’

‘We certainly do. Come on, we’ve got a day to kill. Let’s explore the delights of this grotty little station.’

Chapter 7

Whatever the original name for the asteroid base was, human pilots and traders had long since nicknamed it ‘The Labyrinth’ and the name had stuck. Apparently, even the Nahabe themselves had even started to use the name their own whispering language, an unusual step for a race so suspicious of outsiders. The base itself consisted of a linked series of hollowed out asteroids and modules floating in the Trojan Lagrange Point in the wake of the gas giant Nereki in the Quralish system on the borders of the bubble of space claimed by the reclusive Nahabe. The Labyrinth had been built as a trading post between the Nahabe and the other species in the region, the Commonwealth included. It had been placed here so as to be convenient for the Nahabe traders, but it was far enough away from the inhabited second planet that prying sensors trying to catch a glimpse of an outlying Nahabe world would be unable to do so, or at least could be discreetly jammed.

Similar bases lay in other systems along the border of Nahabe space, allowing them to trade with other races, but without permitting outsiders to penetrate any further into their territory, thus enabling the Nahabe to participate in galactic affairs, whilst at the same time keeping the very same galaxy at arm’s length. A few pilots had tried to slip into the region, of course. Most were simply chased down by Nahabe patrol ships and escorted out of the region with stern instructions not to return. Others were never seen again.

As the flow of trade to and from the base had increased, it had grown to accommodate the increased traffic, expanding into a jumbled mass of rocks, modules, gantries and dockyards that covered almost fifty cubic kilometres and had resulted in the haphazard structure acquiring the nickname it now bore.

The Profit Margin moved smoothly through the busy traffic flowing to and from the base along its own assigned vector, before slipping into dock number eighty-seven. It alighted between a slender Xeelin corvette and the ponderous shape of human salvage tug that currently lay in pieces on the deck as its crew attempted to repair its drive section. A few of the weary looking salvagers gave the sleek new arrival jealous looks as it alighted gracefully beside their battered ugly craft with a descending whine of AG motors.

Isaacs stepped out of the ship and looked about, noting the oddly angular design of the alien docking bay. The walls, ceiling and floor were entirely composed of slabs of dull green material that reflected the internal lighting in their curiously textured surfaces. Just another alien port, mused Isaacs. He’d visited odder places in his time, though admittedly the Nahabe themselves were a good deal weirder than most. What he was really looking for was a terminal of some kind, so that he could call up a local map and try to locate Anna’s apartment. He wandered over to the tug and asked one of the salvagers, who directed him to a recessed panel on the wall behind their own ship. Isaacs went and investigated.

It took a few moments for him to persuade the terminal to accept his language. The machine was surprisingly sophisticated, more so than current Commonwealth models. Isaacs had heard that about the Nahabe; that in actual fact they were, in many ways, more technologically advanced than the human race. Quite why the Nahabe had not spread themselves further across this part of space was something of a mystery, though many had put it down to different societal and racial prerogatives, not to mention the Nahabes’ mistrust of outsiders and the wider galaxy in general.

After a few moments of searching through various nested menus Isaacs succeeded in calling up a map of the station and initiated a search for Anna by name in the hope that it would direct him to her address. The Labyrinth was well named, he noted. The three dimensional model displayed in front of him resembled the digestive system of an alien creature far more than it did a space station. He scanned down the sequence of directions that the terminal had provided for him with a weary sigh as he compared it to the tortuously winding path it had also helpfully highlighted on the map for him.

Unable to link his datapad to the alien computer system, he printed out a hard copy of the information displayed on its screen. With the piece of thin, waxy paper in hand, he set off for the nearest transport tube.

After almost an hour of travelling via various transport tubes, internal railways, lifts, automated shuttle craft and seemingly endless walks down twisting narrow gangways, Isaacs eventually arrived outside the door of his wife’s apartment. Her quarters were located on the far side of the station from the docking bay he had arrived at, in a human configured accommodation module that had been shipped in by the Commonwealth and bolted onto a vast reef of gantries and other modules that lay on the sunward side of one of the outermost asteroids. The module was positively antiquated. It had no gravity generators of its own. Instead, the cylindrical structure rotated along its axis to provide gravity, driven by a series of linear motors that lined the creaking collar joining it to the rest of the station.

Isaacs stood in the wan, flickering light in the grimy corridor and listened to the unearthly groaning that emanated from somewhere in the module’s depths. It reminded him of the one time he had travelled on a sea ship and had heard the hull of the rusty craft creak and groan as it flexed and twisted with the rolling swell. A snatch of drunken singing wandered down the dull, plate steel corridors, accompanied by the distant repetitive thud of music being played too loudly in a confined space.

He rapped on the door with his knuckles. There was no answer. He had considered the possibility that the apartment might no longer be occupied, but he needed to start somewhere. He began to study the door locking mechanism. Maybe he could force it open? Something this old shouldn’t be too hard to bypass, if he could just get this front panel off

‘Can I help you?’

Isaacs jumped with alarm at the strangely musical, artificial tones that had suddenly murmured from a point directly behind him. Instinctively he whirled around to face the new arrival and was confronted with the angular prow of a Nahabe casket floating no more than two feet in front of him. It was decorated with rococo pattern of whorls that seemed to form into two eyes in the front of the vehicle.

‘I said can I help you?’ the Nahabe repeated with an air of menace.

‘Ah, I’m

looking for someone,’ Isaacs replied, wincing at the level of guilt evident in his own voice.

‘Is that so? Breaking into their apartment seems a little extreme doesn’t it?’

The Nahabe edged a little closer. Isaacs saw now that a gun had emerged from a panel on the side of the casket. Its narrow muzzle was lazily wandering over his body.

‘I wasn’t

’

The casket seemed to shift a little to one side, as if to peer at the security panel he had been investigating.

‘I see,’ said the Nahabe. ‘Well, I’m sure you can tell station security all about it when they arrive. Or maybe I’ll just deal with you. Always the same with you humans. Nasty, grasping creatures that you are.’

‘I was looking for a woman, her name is Anna Isaacs. Black collar length hair, pale complexion, about so high.’ He raised his right hand just above his shoulder to illustrate.

‘All humans look alike to me, how do I know that you aren’t lying?’

‘This is her apartment, or was. Look, I’m her husband, alright?’

‘There was a woman of that description and name living here, but she did not have a mate, as I recall. She did have a number of visitors, but I don’t remember seeing you before. I thought humans mated for life?’

‘Well, not exactly. We had a

a disagreement. She ran out on me.’

‘How touching.’ Isaacs thought he detected a note of amusement in the synthesised voice. ‘So, do you have any form of identification? I’m the owner of this apartment section. The people living here are all tenants of mine. I saw you snooping around on the security monitors so I thought I’d come and investigate. It pays to be suspicious around here. I’m sure you can appreciate my point of view. I have to protect my tenants.’ As if to emphasise it jabbed the gun into his midriff.

‘Uh, sure,’ Isaacs fumbled for his pilot’s license and held it up for the Nahabe to see. A skeletal manipulator arm extended from the front of the casket and plucked the license from his hand. It held it up the plastic card and turned it over as if inspecting it, before stroking it with electronic cilia and handing it back to him.

‘Well, Mr Isaacs, you do at least appear to be who you claim.’

‘Uh, thanks.’

‘Though I’m not sure about your story. The human woman who rents this apartment: her name is not Isaacs, it’s Favreaux.’

‘That’s her maiden name.’

‘Her what?’

‘The name she had before we got married.’

‘Ah, yes. Forgive me. I am rather unfamiliar with the customs of

foreigners.’ There was a note of distaste in the Nahabe’s synthetic voice.

‘You said she still rents this apartment. Where can I find her?’

‘That,’ said the Nahabe. ‘Is something of a mystery. I haven’t seen her for some time. I’d say it would be almost half a year by our reckoning since I last laid eyes on her, yet the rent is still deposited in my account on time so I suppose I can’t complain.’

‘You have no idea where she might be? I need to talk to her.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said the Nahabe. ‘But you might try one of the bars near here in the asteroid beneath us. It caters to humans and a few other outworlders who wish to pollute themselves.’

‘You don’t approve?’

‘Our religion forbids such pollution of the body, rather wisely I’ve always thought. In any case, your wife used to frequent this particular bar rather often as I recall. Apparently it is rather popular with the human contingent here on this station. I’m sure someone there would remember her.’

‘What’s the name of this place?’

‘The Watering Hole. You can search for it on one of the terminals if you want to find it. You may want to ‘watch your step’ as I believe the saying goes. From what I gather, the Hole isn’t the sort of place you’d want to make yourself unwelcome in. It has rather a reputation even among those who deem drunkenness to be socially acceptable.’

‘Thank you,’ said Isaacs, making a mental note not to invite any Nahabe to any parties in the future. ‘I’d

’ But the creature was already drifting silently away in its casket.

Isaacs found The Watering Hole with little trouble. It lay on one of the main thoroughfares of the nameless town that girdled the waist of the habitation chamber of the nearest asteroid, Merenik. Merenik – name meant ‘marketplace’ in the Nahabe language - had been hollowed out and spun to generate approximately one standard gravity and the tubular chamber within was now home to several hundred thousand people, not to mention a large transient population of traders, travellers, business-folk and tourists.

Isaacs took an automated shuttle from the habitation module to the axial docking port. From there he entered the complex train network whose tunnels wormed their way throughout the asteroid like veins around a body. After several changes of route he finally emerged from a station exit a few minutes’ walk away from the Hole.

The interior of Merenik was currently in the midst of its night-time cycle. The tubular landscape arching overhead was picked out in a constellation of lights and bathed dimly in the faint blue glow of the central plasma tube. The street he found himself in was more garishly lit. A number of bars, nightclubs and casinos spilled multicoloured light onto the street, illuminating the groups of drunken figures from various species who lurched from one to another. Music both familiar and wholly alien filled the air, as did the scent of cheap, greasy food.

The Watering Hole was a large, sprawling establishment that had steadily expanded into several surrounding buildings as well as into a number of chambers hollowed from the rock upon which it sat. Isaacs stepped up to the entrance, nodded to the door security staff and then moved on into the crowded interior, where he was swallowed by the crowd of revellers. He squeezed his way through the knots of drinkers and succeeded in elbowing his way to the bar, where a number of harassed looking, over worked bar staff struggled to meet the demands of the customers.

Isaacs eventually managed to get served then withdrew from the crowded bar with his drink. He decided to mingle and get a feel for the place. Luckily, his scruffy attire seemed to fit right in here. The Hole seemed to cater to a more relaxed clientele, most of whom seemed to be here to get seriously drunk at the end of busy week, rather than make any sort of fashion statement. This was just the sort of place he’d have expected to find Anna. With her laid back demeanour she never was one for glamour, it was one of the reasons why he’d fallen for her in the first place.

He scanned the crowd, taking occasional mouthfuls of his drink. Groups of humans and aliens stood or sat in groups or swayed drunkenly to the thudding music. A gaggle of Vreeth tumbled wildly up by the ceiling. Couples groped one another in corners. Large, augmented security staff stood like guard dogs at strategic locations where they could watch the customers.

He wandered from room to room, negotiating his way around the other customers with care, through back rooms, basements, game rooms and relaxation areas, through eight kinds of music from four different civilisations. He inhaled the second hand drug fumes of a dozen illegal substances, saw the drunken dancing of numerous cultures and almost slipped on a swarm of large iridescent beetles that had spilled from a jar on a side table and were now being greedily scooped up by the whooping group of Hyrdians who had bought them in the first place.

There was no sign of Anna, though that was hardly a surprise. He could always pick her out in a crowd, she had that kind of effect on people, but of her slightly tangled, collar-length, black head of hair there was no sign amongst the tightly packed drinkers. If she was a regular here, he wondered if any of the staff might remember her. He made his way back to the main bar and wandered up to one of the bar security standing guard by the door. The man’s genetically augmented form loomed large over Isaacs, a sheen of sweat on the dark brown, shaved dome of his forehead.

‘I’m looking for someone,’ said Isaacs over the music.

‘You have been in space a long time. Sorry, you’re not really my type,’ growled the security man, without breaking his dead pan expression.

‘Very funny.’

‘Hey, I try to enjoy my work,’ said the man with a smirk.

‘I’m looking for a woman, one of your regulars.’

‘What are you, a cop?’ the security man eyed him suspiciously.

‘No, it’s not like that. She’s my wife. Well, separated actually. About so high, dark hair, name’s Anna.’

‘Why don’t you go and have a word with the landlord, I reckon he’d remember her if she was regular,’ said the security man, nodding at the fat, bearded man working one end of the bar. ‘Shigs seems to have a decent memory for that sort of thing. Me, I just remember the prettier ones and the trouble causers.’

‘What about the pretty trouble causers?’

‘I remember them most of all.’

‘You would definitely remember my wife.’

The security man laughed, a throaty sound like someone cracking boulders. ‘Like I said, have a word with Shigs.’

Isaacs turned to cross the busy bar. Whilst squeezing his way between two rowdy groups of drunks he noticed the security man speaking into a collar mic out of the corner of his mouth. The device itself was invisible, but Isaacs recognised the mannerism. He pressed on.

As he got closer to the bar he realised that he recognised the landlord. Once he stripped away a few pounds and the straggly beard, he saw the face of an old business associate behind the bar. The security man had referred to him as ‘Shigs’. Of course! Shigeru Toyama was an old business acquaintance of his and his wife’s, back when they had run a ship together. He had been a mister fix-it, a man who could get you anything for the right price and the source of much needed work for both of them. Rumour had it; he had plenty of dodgy connections which he made extensive use of to ply his trade in illegal substances, rare artefacts, alien tech and counterfeit goods. What was he doing all the way out here, running a bar?

Isaacs leaned over the bar and patted him on the shoulder.

‘Hey, just wait your turn I’m serving this guy here first,’ came the gruff response.

‘Shigs, hey Shigs it’s me, Cal Isaacs. Remember?’

Shigs looked at him for a second without recognition, then suddenly his face broke into a broad grin.

‘Fucking hell, it’s been a long time.’

‘Certainly has.’

‘I wondered when you’d come slouching in here with all the other lowlifes.’

‘You sound like you’ve been expecting me. It’s a big galaxy you know, what were the odds of me coming in here?’

‘Well

tell you what, why don’t you come around back and we can talk?’

‘Alright, sure.’

‘Hey Frank, take over from me for a bit, I have some business to attend to!’ Shigs yelled into a dim passage that led from the back of the bar into store rooms and cellars. He wiped his hands with a bar towel, lifted the folding bar hatch up and let Isaacs through, then motioned him down the same narrow corridor.

‘So, what happened, Shigs? You’ve gone respectable.’

‘Hey, I was always respected.’

‘Yeah, but respected by who; that was the trouble.’

The two men sat on the stacks of food and drink crates in one of the back rooms of the Hole. Music thudded dully through the concrete walls. Shigs gulped from his can of beer and stared thoughtfully at the floor.

‘Yeah well, things had gotten a little hot for me. A lot of the smuggling gangs in the border systems got stomped on real hard just before the war, then when all hell broke loose it got too hard to do business. There were too many Navy ships and security types sniffing around looking for insurgents or spies or whatever. A lot of people got busted. You remember Faizal, guy I used to get all that weird alien art off?’

‘Had all those tattoos round his left eye?’

‘That’s him. Fucking Navy boarded his ship. Guy got ten years. Scared me to death. Thought they’d trace the shipment he had back to me. Anyway, I decided to invest my hard earned money. I always kinda fancied owning a bar, y’know? I saw this place was on the market when I was stopping off here, so I thought, ‘fuck it, why not?’’

‘You seem to be doing pretty well. There was quite a crowd in tonight. I gotta say: most of the customers seemed like our kind of people. But what are you doing all the way our here?’

‘Yeah, well. I figured if I appealed to ‘our kind of people’ I could keep an ear to the ground, y’know, in case the situation changes and I feel like I need a piece at any time. You’d amazed some of the shit you hear in this place, all sorts of people come in here. This place may be way out on the edge of Commonwealth space, but it’s on the edge of lots of other places too. I’m telling you, some of things that walk in here sometimes; I don’t know what the fuck they are.’

‘Fucking hell, this place is a front isn’t it? A base for your shady dealings.’ Isaacs laughed. ‘I knew it!’

‘No, no. Well

I do a few deals here and there, but nothing major. Hell, this place is doing so well I don’t need to that sort of thing no more. Guess I just like to keep my hand in. So what’s with you, that you decided to get back with Anna all of a sudden?’

‘I didn’t decide that. She dropped me in the shit this time Shigs. She owes money to the fucking Sirius Syndicate. They can’t find her, so guess who got leaned on.’

‘No shit. How much?’

‘Four hundred thousand.’

‘Fuck. Man, I knew you guys had your differences but

’ Shigs shook his head ruefully.

‘Yeah, I can’t fucking believe her. I got the shit kicked out of me too by a guy even bigger than that doorman of yours. You know, I’d just finished the job of a lifetime? I’d just earned three hundred big ones from the Navy by almost getting my balls shot off by K’Soth loyalists. If I can’t track her down I’m gonna have to pay those fuckers off with it to stop them killing me.’

‘Jesus, you went into the Empire? You’re out of your fucking mind, you know that? What is it with you? And what if the Navy start sniffing around your business dealings?’

‘The money was good, real good. There might be more where that came from too.’

‘What sort of mission was it?’

‘Getting some refugees out. I can’t really say any more right now. It was quite a ride though. Fucking weird too. Ask me about it someday’

‘God, I hate it when people do that.’

‘What?’

‘Set up a story, then refuse to tell.’

‘Sorry man. I’m under orders.’

‘If you like taking orders, how about you work for me?’

‘What, serving drinks and cleaning glasses? No thanks.’

‘Nah, you know. A little flying here and there. Transporting a few quality items to trusted customers.’

‘Not a good idea I’m afraid. I got the distinct impression these Navy types I worked for will be watching me for a while to make sure I don’t snitch. I’ll bear it in mind though.’

‘Alright, fair enough.’ Shigs finished his beer and burped loudly. The sound echoed in the blank walled room. ‘So listen, about Anna.’

‘You know where she is?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘She figured you might come by here eventually. She was here for about six months, but before she left she asked me to give you this.’ He fumbled in his pocket and produced a key chain. He sorted through the various electronic and metal keys until he found a slim key card and removed it, then passed it to Isaacs. ‘That’s her apartment key. She wanted you to have it. Apparently there’s something in there for you.’

‘What?’

‘No idea. Must be important since she still rents the place. All she said was; ‘Shigs, you know when Cal has too much to drink and he gets that thousand yard stare and won’t talk. Well it’s to do with that.’ I was none the wiser, although she was right, you do get a weird look in your eye sometimes.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I dunno like

like you can see something that the rest of can’t.’

‘Probably the beer talking.’

‘Yeah. Weird message to leave though, huh?’

‘It is. Look

’

There was heavy knock at the door. A deep voice outside, muffled by the wood of the door, spoke:

‘Mr Toyama?’

‘Come in!’ Shigs replied. The door opened and a different bouncer, a squat, powerful looking man with a neatly trimmed beard stepped through.

‘Thought you ought to know. There are a couple of Nahabe in the bar.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah, the pair of them came in ten minutes ago or so.’

‘Are they cops?’

‘I don’t think so. They just came in and started floating around the place. It’s like they’re looking for something, or someone.’

‘I thought Nahabe didn’t come into bars?’ said Isaacs.

‘They don’t,’ said Shigs. ‘That’s what so unusual and what makes me so suspicious. Alright Larry, keep an eye on ‘em for me will ya? Last thing I want is those fucking coffins ruining my custom.’ The man nodded and left, Shigs turned back to Isaacs. ‘One or two of those Nahabe get a little too evangelistic for my taste. A bar up the street had a couple come in a month or so back and start preaching to the customers about ‘the evils of decadence’. Then they started with all this ‘end of civilisation’ bullshit.’

‘Fucking hell

’ said Isaacs in commiseration as Shigs switched on a small wall screen and scrutinised the image until he saw the two box shaped forms gliding around between groups of revellers.

‘Yeah, apparently were all going to be enslaved by evil and damned forever unless we forsake drink and drugs and

’

‘Live in a box?’

‘Something like that,’ Shigs chuckled. He toyed with his empty beer can for a moment, before reaching for a fresh one from an opened crate. He passed another to Isaacs who accepted it gratefully.

‘So Shigs,’ said Isaacs. ‘What was my wife doing here? Where did she go?’

The other man looked a little uneasy and scratched his beard thoughtfully before answering.

‘You know, I wish I could tell you the whole story. The truth is, I’m not entirely sure what she was up to.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘When Anna first came here, there was just her and her ship, a nice one too, one of those new Colt class yachts.’

‘Guess that’s what the loan was for.’

‘Yeah, some of it I guess. Anyway, she happened to come in here and we got talking. She told me about the situation between you and her, although she didn’t tell me why you guys split up and I didn’t like to pry

anyway I put a few jobs her way, cargo runs, courier jobs and stuff, nothing risky.’

‘So what happened?’

‘I dunno. Suddenly she had a lot of friends. People would come in here asking for her all the time.’

‘Men?’

‘Well, men, women, aliens

nah, this was strictly business. But I’m telling you, most of these guys were pretty serious types. Not the sort you’d want to get on the wrong side of, if you know what I mean, and whenever I saw her, she was flashing a hell of a lot of cash around. Whenever Anna came in here, it was drinks on the house all round.’

‘Great, she’s buying booze whilst I get jumped by mobsters.’

‘Yeah. Well this went on for a good three or four months. Then she comes in here and tells me she was going away for a while, and she gave me the key to her apartment to give to you if you stopped by. I figured what the hell and that’s the last I saw of her. She never said where she was headed.’

‘You said she has her own ship, did you catch its name at all?’

‘Yeah, uh

the Jilted Lover.’

‘Nice, she always did have a wonderful sense of humour,’ said Isaacs.

‘Sorry man.’

Isaacs shrugged. ‘Alright. Well, I’ll poke around the space ports - see if I can dig up anything.’

‘She rented a bay on this asteroid. You might want to try asking around there.’

‘Thanks. Hey, it’s been good seeing you again. I guess I’d better be going.’

‘Yeah, listen, where are you going to stay, Anna’s apartment?’

‘Nah, her landlord will still be poking around. He’d be on to me like a shot if I went in there. It’ll have to wait till morning. I was going to return to my ship, it’s a bit of a trek though.’

‘Stick around here. We have a few rooms upstairs. What do you say? Have a few drinks with us, swap a few stories.’

‘Yeah. Fuck it. Why not, eh?’

‘That’s the spirit! That’s the Cal I know and love. Hey, I gotta introduce you to this new girl that works here; she’s your type alright

’

Shigs put a chubby arm around Isaacs’ shoulders and propelled him back towards the bar.

Chapter 8

To the military eye, the Arkari Sphere lay like a vast, thousand light year wide orrery to the west of the Commonwealth, its concentric shells of defensive installations, bases and fleet dispositions expanding outwards from the Arkari home world at its heart. It seemed a strange irony to many that one of the spiral arm’s most benign races (at least according popular belief) were in possession of the largest collection of advanced military hardware belonging to any species yet contacted. The Arkari, of course, were generally of the opinion that they managed to exist in peace with their neighbours largely because they were in possession of such a sophisticated deterrent and because their particular form of meritocratic democracy ensured that, in general, their government was capable enough to avoid the majority of conflicts via intelligent resolution.

It was also the case that given their race’s longer history and advanced technological capabilities, the Arkari often had a better idea of what was going on in the galaxy. Many amongst the less advanced races, humanity included, often liked to speculate about what the Arkari knew about the vast, largely unexplored tracts of space that lay outside the known regions and why it was that such an advanced race had restricted itself to such a strictly delineated patch of the galaxy. The Arkari seemed to be prepared for something, but what?

Had these armchair historians and bar room politicians really been allowed an insight into exactly what it was that the Arkari knew about the wider galaxy, particular those benighted regions at the galactic core, where the close-pressed dying stars whirled about the central all-consuming black hole, they would have shrunk from further speculation in terror.

Only a few select humans were privy to the truth, courtesy of their enigmatic allies; those who had seen first-hand what lay in store for humanity and who their true enemies were. Not the warlike empire of the K’Soth, or a dozen similar hostile races waiting to be uncovered, but something far, far worse. Ancient and malevolent things that skulked and plotted in the darkest reaches of the galaxy, and which were now emerging from the shadows, unified at last into a coherent entity.

Within the Arkari Sphere there were secret places, places that most Arkari had no knowledge of. Within the quadrant of the Sphere given over to the military there were numerous places such as these; secret research facilities and training areas, storage bunkers and defensive installations and even places of confinement.

Some places were more secret still. Kaggorak – the name meant ‘black rock’ in the Arkari language - could be classed as all of the above. It was a dark matter object, a rogue asteroid a thousand kilometres long that had floated between the stars for billions of years, flung out of whatever star system it had originated from to drift silently in the inky darkness. It was the perfect place to conceal that which needed to remain hidden from others or to imprison that which should never, ever, escape. The Arkari had found the solitary rock millennia earlier and had hollowed it out into a warren of caverns that suited their more secretive purposes. The rotation of the asteroid had been gradually stabilised, docking facilities fitted one end and the entire site ringed with defences that faced both outwards into space and inwards towards the rock itself. They had also fitted it with jump drives. The rock was able to move across space, shifting from one hidden place to another. Some things were so secret that they should not remain in one place for too long.

The Meritarchs had commanded that Kaggorak be moved into position between the two sundered halves of the Progenitor Dyson Sphere to coordinate the research program, to make use of its advanced research labs and to defend the habitat from any unwanted interlopers. Throughout its day and night cycles, a steady stream of ships loaded with personnel, materiel and archaeological evidence moved between the rock and surface of the sphere as Arkari science teams sifted the wreckage and dust for some clue as to the fate of the habitat’s creators. Ships, sentry drones and stealthed weapon platforms now surrounded the broken Progenitor sphere for a light year in every direction.

Three ships were now docked at Kaggorak, their forms outlined by the glow of their running lights, the huge, sleek bulk of an Arkari Nightbringer class dreadnought, an Arkari destroyer and the much smaller, angular form of a Commonwealth Saturn class carrier.

Chen exited the transit tube deep inside the bowels of the asteroid and walked purposefully down the broad, curving corridor towards Mentith’s office. The white, curving, seamless walls echoed to the hollow sound of her booted feet on the hard flooring, whose glassy surface reflected her slight form. She passed a few Arkari on the way, calmly going about their secretive business in the depths of the base, their slender bodies clad in the dark uniforms of their Navy. She couldn’t help but wonder what mysteries this lonely rock contained, what dark secrets its custodians hid from prying eyes within its deepest chambers. She had been promoted to an almost unique position, one of the most senior Humans within the Special Operations Command, the secretive military organisation maintained by the Arkari and the Commonwealth dedicated to the single goal of defending the spiral arm from wider, longer term threats. However, Chen didn’t doubt that there was plenty that was hidden, even from her.

She reached the door of Mentith’s office, pressed her fingertips against its surface to open it and entered. She found Mentith lounging casually in a chair behind his desk, an organic looking item of furniture whose graceful lines were slightly marred by the piles of documents, datapads and storage slivers that cluttered its surface and stood in semi-random piles around its base. The War Marshal was framed by a large curving window that gave a view of a tiered garden chamber beyond. The sound of the artificial waterfall outside was just audible through the open doors to the room’s balcony.

Mentith looked up from the datapad he was perusing as Chen saluted smartly in front of him.

‘Ah, Admiral Chen. Always a pleasure. You’re a little earlier than I’d expected.’

‘We made good time on our journey here. My Chief Engineer has been optimising the performance of the Churchill’s jump drive.’

‘You have a good crew Admiral.’

‘The best. I handpicked them all myself. One of the luxuries I was afforded when I took this job.’

Mentith smiled. ‘Of course. Now, to business. I expect you’re wondering why I summoned you here?’

‘Naturally.’

‘Firstly, we’ve decided to take the rather bold step of fitting a human vessel, namely your ship, with an Arkari distortion cannon. The engineers here assure me that this is entirely feasible, and have modified such a weapon to work with your power systems. The cannon will replace the rather less effective plasma cannon that your vessel is currently equipped with as its main gun, and it should give you an advantage in a fire-fight with just about anything that you’re likely to come across. The Churchill and her crew are a useful asset to SOC, and I feel it is only proper that you be given this boost to your combat capabilities as well as a chance to test this device.’

‘Thank you sir, I’m sure Chief Kleiner will be eager to have a new toy to play with.’

‘I thought as much,’ said Mentith with a touch of amusement. ‘But remind him that the technical specifications of that weapon are, of course, classified. Giving away technology is not something that we Arkari take lightly.’

‘Of course, sir. Were there other reasons that you wished to see me?’

‘Yes. As one of our more senior officers, I felt it was important for you to be briefed on some of the more recent developments, as well allowing the two of us to have an informal chat. Plus, if there’s anything you’d like tell me about feel free to do so, once I’ve said my piece.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Very well.’ Mentith pressed a few keys on the console embedded into the surface of his desk, causing a three dimensional map of local space to appear in the air above it with the territories of each race marked out in coloured transparent bubbles along with tags denoting the principal systems.

The Arkari Sphere lay in the west marked out in green. Against its eastern face lay the haphazard blue sprawl of the Commonwealth like a collection of loose soap bubbles clinging to the surface of the larger body. Darker blue bubbles to the south and east denoted the Commonwealth’s alien allies - many of whom had pledged ships, troops and other resources during the war against the K’Soth Empire, whose vast expanse lay marked in red to the north where it abutted the Commonwealth’s border.

A great swathe had been gouged from this gargantuan realm. A rough hemisphere over two hundred and fifty light years deep had been bitten from the Empire’s southern quadrant by the Commonwealth during the war, though many systems had also had broken away as Imperial rule had collapsed. Within the remaining volume of the Empire, systems were flagged with different colours to denote the principal factions now vying for control of the throne in the escalating civil war that had engulfed the K’Soth.

‘What would your current assessment of the Commonwealth be, now that the war with the K’Soth is over?’ said Mentith.

‘My assessment?’ Chen replied. ‘Well, we’ve conquered our old enemy at long last. We’ve smashed their military and caused their power base to collapse in on itself. The current state of civil war within the Empire is proof of that. We’ve seized or liberated thousands of systems from the K’Soth, systems that we can incorporate into our domain or develop as trading partners. I’d say the Commonwealth is, potentially, stronger than ever.’

‘Hmm, interesting,’ said Mentith. ‘From a certain perspective, you are correct. However I believe that when one considers the wider implications, the Commonwealth is more vulnerable now that it was before the war.’

‘How so?’

‘Consider this: The Commonwealth may have seized vast areas of territory, but this territory is, for the time being, a vast drain on its resources. The Army and Navy are stretched far more thinly than before as they are embroiled in policing and even governing a huge number of systems, many of which were devastated in the fighting or by the ‘slash and burn’ tactics of the Empire, or are in the grip of civil strife as their inhabitants settle old scores and punish those who collaborated with their former imperial masters. The finest tactical minds of the Commonwealth are currently bogged down resolving or preventing such brush fire wars, as well as being forced to defend a far larger territory than before. In addition, the cost of rebuilding such ravaged systems is sure to prove a great economic burden upon the core systems, even if the end result is to be increased prosperity in the future. The Commonwealth is very vulnerable. Now would be the ideal moment for a hostile power such as the Shapers to make its move, either via an external attack or by engineering an internal revolt.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘You are aware of the excavations on the Progenitor sphere?’

‘Yes sir, I understand that Cor and O’Reilly are in charge of the project.’

‘Were in charge, yes. They succeeded in unearthing what they correctly assessed to be a military installation of some kind. Within it, they found an archive of records which have been successfully translated and decoded at this very facility. They have given us certain insights into the Shapers’ methods and tactics. Naturally we’d like to keep the findings to ourselves, and I’m afraid my superiors don’t trust those two as much as I’d like them to. Academics are notably poor at keeping secrets, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Yes sir,’ said Chen in amused agreement.

‘Nevertheless our efforts continue apace and hopefully there is much that we can learn from these records. However, our findings so far backed up by the results of our intelligence gathering and our strategic assessments have led us to following conclusion: This would an ideal time for the Shapers to engineer another Maranos incident, another war with a foreign power or a political crisis. We must be cautious Admiral Chen, now more than ever. Threats may appear both from outside or within our own societies’

‘There has been a great deal of opposition to the President of late,’ Chen ventured. ‘The allegations about his financial dealings have mired the administration in scandal.’

‘Yes, but I suspect that that opposition is just healthy democratic processes in action,’ Mentith replied. ‘Ah, Admiral Chen. Always the authoritarian, eh?’ She couldn’t believe it, he was teasing her! Mentith continued. ‘Rheinhold’s mistakes are his own, and I suspect they will end his career, but the Commonwealth will continue much as before if he steps down. It’s time for a change don’t you think? He has been in office for fifteen of your years now.’

‘Perhaps. So you think that this overstretch is what the Shapers intended? That they engineered the war?’

‘Very possibly, however it is my belief that their plans did not go smoothly. Their plan to re-activate the Maranos portal and use the Banished Ones to devastate the surrounding systems and destroy our respective navies was unsuccessful. Furthermore, had the coup within the Empire been fully successful and the republican factions seized power, the K’Soth would have emerged far stronger and more able to resist the Commonwealth, prolonging the war for much longer, or at least leaving a credible threat on the Commonwealth’s borders and possibly drawing us in as well eventually’

‘A successful coup would have eliminated the infighting and poor leadership within the upper echelons of their command structure and created a more meritocratic hierarchy,’ said Chen.

‘Exactly. Unfortunately, the Shapers appear to have miscalculated the sheer level of fanaticism among the loyalists,’ Mentith replied. ‘As it is, the coup only partially succeeded. The republican leader, Lord Ironscale, was assassinated before he could consolidate his power base after the Emperor was deposed. It is fortunate that the Commonwealth were able to obtain a ceasefire before this occurred and his opponents were able to concentrate on defeating him.’

‘And I suppose the various factions are too busy fighting over what’s left of the Empire to even think about attacking us.’

‘It would seem so. Now that the K’Soth capitol at Polaris belongs to the republicans and the K’Soth home world belongs to the loyalists, the Empire is tearing itself apart.’

‘It’s what they deserve,’ Chen shot back.

‘Perhaps. Though I doubt the civilian populations caught up in the fighting between the great houses would agree with you,’ said Mentith pointedly.

‘You said that the Shapers were behind much of this.’

‘Yes.’

‘Presumably the members of clan Steelscale we extracted from the Empire have provided you with such information?’

‘More than either of us realised Admiral. They have been most useful to us. The surviving members of clan Steelscale have of course been housed here for the meantime. They will be safe, though of course we will keep a close eye on them, just in case.’

‘I was aware that they had definitive evidence of Shaper involvement in both the war between the Commonwealth and the K’Soth and the ensuing civil war within the Empire. That is, after all, why we got them out.’

‘Just so. Admiral, I think that it’s best if I show you in person what it is that they brought with them. If you’d care to follow me?’

Mentith got up from his chair and strode towards the door. Chen followed him out into the corridor and thence to another transit tube. Mentith selected his destination and appeared to enter some sort of security code before the capsule began to move. There was no feeling of motion as the walls outside the capsule whipped past as blinding speed.

‘Does this have anything to do with that sarcophagus that the Steelscale clan were hauling around with them?’ Chen queried. ‘I was rather curious as to what was inside, especially since the K’Soth usually cremate their dead.’

‘Yes it does have something to do with it,’ Mentith replied. ‘All in good time Admiral, you’ll see.’

Chen crossed her arms and sat back in the chair which was slightly the wrong shape for her human physiology, and reflected upon her current position. Working for Special Operations Command was very different from her regular Navy days. She still had command of her own ship, she still had a crew to lead, but she wondered if this shadowy world of cloak and dagger operations and ancient galactic secrets was really for her. So far she hadn’t even been given any information as to the other Commonwealth ships under SOC command. Consequently at times she felt like she and her crew was operating almost in isolation. One ship against the encroaching darkness. Doubtless there were others out there fighting such lonely, secret battles that no-one would ever hear of. She couldn’t deny that what she had learned in these three years since Mentith had signed her up in the aftermath of the Maranos incident had fascinated her, as much as it had terrified her. But she found herself constantly frustrated by the layers upon layers of secrecy, hidden moves and covert agendas that seemed to cloud her view. She trusted Mentith, and doubtless he and his superiors had their reasons, but her natural curiosity got the better of her time and time again. Things used to be so much more straightforward. Perhaps ignorance really was bliss after all? Perhaps not, she corrected herself.

The capsule came smoothly to a halt and deposited them in a corridor not dissimilar to the one they had just left, with the exception that most of the doors leading off it were heavily guarded with automated security systems. Mentith led her down the corridor to where it terminated in a heavily armoured and shielded door, guarded by two sentry drones, whose snake-like metallic bodies uncoiled at their approach. Sensor clusters like compound eyes watched them unflinchingly as Mentith produced his credentials and stepped into the security field for scanning. This done, the door irised open and he motioned Chen inside, into a small chamber similar to an airlock in its construction, with further sets of monitoring and scanning equipment inset into the roof panels. With the first door closed and the scanning cycle complete, a second door opened at the far end of the chamber, leading into a secure laboratory area.

‘I don’t suppose,’ said Mentith. ‘That I really need to explain just how secret the contents of this chamber are?’

The laboratory was a large, white, square room, filled with the best computer and sensor technology the Arkari were able to provide. The sheer level of computing power present in this single room was probably greater than that present in the entire Commonwealth. Chen felt uneasy, it felt as if

as if the room had noticed her enter and had turned to watch her. It was a feeling she had encountered aboard Arkari vessels before, one that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

The centre of the room was dominated by an armoured containment vessel, a transparent cube five metres or so to a side with large, square pillars at each corner. The pillars were emitting a dull humming noise. It was what was inside the tank that caught Chen’s eye. The body of a K’Soth male lay there, floating in an immobilising field of some kind as if held aloft by unseen hands. The body appeared intact, but the head had been opened up, the front of the cranium entirely removed to reveal what was inside.

Silver nano-threads plunged into the opened skull from an array in the ceiling of the tank. Other, thicker threads ended in small globular tips that appeared to form some sort of field projection array, focused on the opening. Chen stepped closer to the tank, enthralled as well as horrified. This must be the body that the Steelscale clan had brought with them! She peered through the transparent walls of the tank into the dark recesses of the K’Soth’s skull

and saw something move.

She recoiled instinctively in horror, composed herself, and then looked again. Something was writhing within the K’Soth’s brain cavity, it was black and grub-like, its hard, segmented surface slick with fluids. She had seen this before, three years ago on Maranos when Mentith had shot a local priest and had revealed a similar vile parasite within his head too. That priest had been the one to lead those two foolish archaeologists, O’Reilly and Cor to the Progenitor portal device within the planet. That portal had provided the catalyst for war between the Commonwealth and the Empire and had unleashed other, more terrible things from the Arkaris’ murky history that had destroyed the ships under her command and killed the man she had grown to love.

It was a creature of the Shapers, a vile, manipulative parasite that made its home inside the skulls of key individuals, devoured their minds, absorbed their knowledge and personality and masqueraded as them to further the Machiavellian plots of its masters Now they had a live one to interrogate.

‘Do we know how they move between bodies, how they

infect their victims?’ said Chen.

‘Unfortunately we’re still not sure. The body showed no sign of external trauma before it was operated upon, so I’m told. One theory is that the parasite enters the body as an egg of some kind or at least a much smaller version of itself, then grows to full size as it devours its victim from the inside.’

‘How nice,’ said Chen, her face wrinkling with disgust.

‘Yes, isn’t it just? I’m afraid their method of travel or dissemination is still a mystery to us, though.’

‘What are the pillars for?’ said Chen, gesturing at the four, gently humming columns. ‘Shield generators?’

‘Partly. They also function as hyperspatial dampening fields.’

‘What, there’s a possibility that this thing could just jump out of here?’

‘Well

one can never be too careful. As I said, their method of travel is largely unknown to us. However unlikely it may seem one must consider all possibilities. These creatures are, after all, more technologically advanced than either of our species by the order of several billion years. No, the real reason was that as soon as we released the body from the stasis field within the sarcophagus it was brought here in, that thing started broadcasting through hyperspace. We had to place it back in stasis until this chamber could be properly shielded. It seems that they are able to communicate as individuals much in the same way that our ships do, although via a more refined version of the technology.’

‘It was calling to others of its kind.’

‘Almost certainly. Hence the boosted levels of security you witnessed around the base. Whether its call was heard is unknown of course.’

‘So, is this one of them, is this a live Shaper?’

‘Probably not. The studies of the organism conducted so far have revealed it to be entirely artificial, but it isn’t actually a wholly independent artificial intelligence, more like an avatar or a puppet. It has limited survival techniques and a rather limited mind of its own, but without a connection to its masters it is essentially helpless.’

‘The Shapers have a hive mind then? Like terrestrial bees or ants?’

‘Possibly, we simply don’t know for sure.’

‘There they sit, on their dead worlds, yanking our strings as though we are puppets.’

‘A rather unsettling thought isn’t it? If there were more of these things inhabiting the bodies of key K’Soth nobles, I think we can safely assume that it was they who were responsible for the current state of affairs.’

‘Did clan Steelscale not notice anything, any change in their leader’s behaviour? If it was possible to pin down when he fell victim

’

‘Apparently he was a covert critic of the regime for some time and had several meetings with the future leader of the coup, Lord Ironscale, even before the war. His family noted that afterwards he became for more aggressive and outspoken in his criticism, and also that he hardly seemed to sleep.’

‘So Ironscale was the source?’

‘No, oddly. Ironscale was acting of his own volition. The body was inspected after death as part of the post mortem investigations and no trace of any foreign object was found, save for the bullet lodged in his brain that killed him. It is possible that Ironscale was merely supported by the Shapers, rather than being a direct tool of theirs.’

‘Has anyone tried communicating with it?’

‘Yes, on many occasions. It merely responds with a stock selection of threats and dire warnings. After a while it starts to repeat itself, that’s when it acknowledges the presence of its questioners at all. The cybernetics team here are currently working on ways to probe its memory banks and extract any information that they might contain, that’s if it hasn’t wiped them itself already. I am told it may be some time before that is possible however.’

She eyed the repulsive creature, writhing within its prison of energy fields. Its head, if it truly had a head, appeared to be straining to look at her. Its glassy compound eyes and sensor cilia were fixed squarely in her direction.

‘Would you mind if I tried to talk with it?’ she said.

‘Be my guest,’ said Mentith. ‘Though I doubt you’ll get any more sense out of it than the rest of us.’ He walked over to one of the control panels nearby and moved his fingers across the filigreed surface. ‘It can hear you now,’ he said.

‘Yes, I can,’ came the voice. It was soft, sibilant, at once reasonable and threatening, like the purr of a cat.

‘I am Admiral Michelle

’

‘I know who you are Admiral. Have you come to make good on your pledge?’

‘What pledge?’ said Chen.

‘You promised to join us, remember? Surely you must remember, you said you would help us.’

‘What!?’ said Mentith, sharply. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said the voice. ‘Has the Admiral not been entirely honest with you? During the

incident on the planet Maranos, we made a rather reasonable offer to Admiral Chen, via one of our servants. If she promised to help us, we in return would grant her all the power she could ever wish for, immortality, godhood in effect.’

‘What sort of help?’

‘Don’t listen to it!’ snapped Chen, in desperation.

‘I said, what sort help did she have to grant you?’

‘Why, to deliver the entire human race to us, of course. Naturally, she readily accepted.’

‘Lies, as always’ said Mentith.

‘Oh, she tries to deny it,’ said the voice. ‘But we all know how seductive the promise of power is. She tries to fight the urge, but deep down, she knows that she wants it, more than anything.’

‘Shut it off!’ snapped Chen angrily. ‘Just shut it up!’

Mentith moved his hand over the panel once more, cutting off the soft sounds of chuckling coming from the creature.

‘Is there any truth in what that thing just said?’

‘I’m sorry sir, but there is.’

‘You’d better tell me everything,’ he said, firmly.

They were back in Mentith’s office. The old War Marshal sat behind his desk once more, whilst Chen slumped in the auto-moulding seat in front of it. They had travelled back from the secure lab in silence.

‘It was after my ship, the Mark Antony was destroyed,’ Chen began. ‘We crash landed on Maranos in one of the escape pods. Most of the others in that pod were fine, but my XO, Commander Ramirez was badly injured. He

he was going to die if we weren’t rescued. I sent some of the others to look for help, but we were attacked and captured by a raiding party of those things that came through the portal.’

‘The Banished Arkari.’

‘Yes. We were rendered unconscious. When I awoke I found that we were deep underground inside the machine itself. One of the Banished began to interrogate me, it explained that they were in league with the Shapers and it offered me a choice: my allegiance for Ramirez’s life. I

I couldn’t refuse them. I just wanted to buy him some time, so that I could save him! I didn’t mean a word of what I said! Then they disappeared back through the portal. Their technology was the only thing that was keeping him alive, and he died in my arms

.’

‘I am sorry Michelle. You and he had a relationship that was more than professional?’

‘Yes.’

‘You never told anyone about this before?’

‘Al and I kept our relationship secret from the crew for obvious reasons and I’ve never told anyone about that nor about the offer that was made to me. Do you really have to wonder why? You would have doubted me.’

‘Perhaps. But I wonder if I would have acted any differently in a similar situation. Yours was a selfless act, and you attempted to deceive our enemy to save a comrade and a friend. That’s good enough for me.’

‘But for a moment, just a moment, I did want the power that they offered me.’

‘Well, who doesn’t?’

‘I thought the Arkari were above such things.’

‘We like to fool ourselves into thinking that we are, but lust for power is a base instinct and seductive to all sentient beings. I hope, if nothing else, you learnt that lesson.’

‘Do you trust me?’

‘Do you think you’d still be sitting in my office if I didn’t?’ Mentith replied, matter-of-factly.

‘You do have a point, sir.’

‘Yes I do. Now, there was something else that you wished to tell me.’

‘Yes War Marshal, there is,’ Chen replied, attempting to compose herself. ‘It concerns the freelancer we used for the Steelscale extraction mission, Captain Caleb Isaacs.’

‘You chose him yourself I understand.’

‘Yes sir. All of our intelligence gathering found him to be the best candidate for the job, and we were not disappointed I might add. He is a fine pilot and though he is a little rough around the edges, a decent man.’

‘However

’

‘Isaacs was a pilot in a bomber squadron almost fifteen years ago. He was top of his class in training and joined his squadron with the anticipation among his superiors that he would go far, only to resign after less than a year. In all respects he should have been an exceptional pilot and good officer material. There’s no mention in his file as to why he was honourably discharged’

‘Well, the military life doesn’t suit everyone, you know. Perhaps he had other personal problems and whatnot.’

‘That’s what I thought too, but our vetting process didn’t dig up anything untoward. I asked him casually about it and he told me that it was classified which didn’t tie up with the records that I’d seen. He seemed quite distressed, angry too I’d say. I used my special clearance to obtain the secret documents and found that it was classified at the highest level. I’ve managed to obtain clearance for you also, however the breakthrough came when I used my clearance with your military to access any records pertaining to classified rescues of human pilots. I found a file that correlates with Isaacs’ own record.’

‘And what does the file say?’

‘Sir, I think he may have had first hand contact with the Shapers, I think he may know how they implant people.’

Chapter 9

The stubby-winged shuttle fell swiftly out of the fume laden sky, its controlled descent speeding it across a landscape shaped by intense vulcanism. Smoking cones of ash towered over plains of black glass, glistening chemical deserts and the coiled ropes of lava fields. Here and there, peaks still spewed fire and smoke into the sky, bright molten rivers trickling down their steep, fume shrouded flanks. The very air burned, sparks filled the sky, whilst corrosive clouds of acid boiled overhead, their dark undersides periodically lit by the intermittent flashes of lightning. The poisonous sky turned the light of the blue-white suns a sickly yellow and obscured much of the marbled face of the vast gas giant that hung heavy above it.

Rhyolite was a primordial vision of a biblical hell, an entire planet so hostile to life that to venture outside without a suit was to risk being asphyxiated by the atmosphere, burned alive by lava or super heated gases or dissolved by concentrated acid, possibly all at the same time. In some places, just to touch its very surface was to risk losing the skin from your hand, or possibly the hand altogether.

This caustic hell, however, was also a source of great riches. Mining rigs roamed the surface, harvesting the bounty of chemicals. These great floating industrial plants the size of small towns floated above the poisonous wastes on AG units, protected from the elements by heavy shielding. In more stable regions, mines had been sunk into the rock, probing the rich seams of heavy metals found there. The armoured domes of the settlements that had grown up around the mines dotted the surface - tiny islands of human activity and sanctuary in the wilderness.

Katherine peered through the tiny porthole in the shuttle’s hull at the infernal landscape passing quickly beneath them. From this height, the landscape looked savagely beautiful: Whorls of light and dark, splashes of yellow from dunes of pure sulphur, intermingled smears of red, brown, orange and black, light glinting from the purple waters of an acidic lake, drifts of grey-white ash, pillars of smoke thundering into the sky. All of these amid the twisted lines of the tortured land, rent and cracked by the tidal forces exerted by Beatty – the gas giant looming so close she felt she could almost touch its bloated cloud-tops.

Lights glinted on the horizon atop a basalt plateau that rose above the surrounding wastes like a black island above a multicoloured sea. She felt the shuttle begin to slow its descent and heard the whines and clunks of the undercarriage unfolding beneath her. To her right, Rekkid sat in the aisle seat, eyes tightly closed, cursing in his own language with every jolt of turbulence from the updrafts caused by the tortured terrain below. Reynaud and Cox sat in front, apparently nonchalant. Both were working from datapads and paid little attention to the spectacular landscape passing below. Doubtless they had seen it countless times before.

‘Rekkid, are you alright?’ asked Katherine of her grimacing companion.

‘Oh, wonderful. Great. Fantastic. Couldn’t be better,’ he replied testily. ‘I’ll be much better once I’m off this death-trap.’

‘This shuttle is heavily shielded you know. We’re quite safe,’ she chided.

‘Yes, I’m sure we are. We’ll be a lot safer once we’re on the ground.’

‘You don’t have much faith in our technology do you?’

‘No. How would you feel if you had to fly in an Apollo capsule every time you went anywhere? That’s how it feels to me.’

‘You’re just not adventurous, that’s your trouble.’

‘I’d rather be a live unadventurous person that a dead thrill seeker, if it’s all the same to you.’

The shuttle braked rather suddenly. Rekkid’s hands gripped the arms of his chair more forcefully. The knuckles of his light brown, seven fingered hands were almost white with tension.

‘Well, it looks like we’re almost down anyway, so you can stop complaining,’ said Katherine, peering ahead through the porthole. ‘We’re coming in to land at a base of some kind.’

As she spoke the shuttle braked to a complete stop, hanging in the air on AG units, before beginning a steady descent towards the landing platform below. Katherine strained to see over the curve of the shuttle’s wing, but nevertheless caught glimpses of domes and low buildings clustered around a large geodesic structure. The uniform white outer skin of the base was stained yellow by the sickly light and drifts of accumulated dust on its surface.

The shuttle landed with a gentle thud. Then the landing pad itself began to sink into the large angular structure beneath. Large armoured doors slid smoothly closed overhead, sealing them in from the toxic world outside.

There was another slight jolt as the pad reached the bottom of the shaft, before a set of heavy doors slid open in front of it, admitting the now taxiing craft into a large hangar area, where it parked among a selection of passenger and cargo vessels.

Katherine and Rekkid followed Cox and Reynaud out of the shuttle and across the noisy hangar between the rows of parked craft. They exited through a small security area and into the base proper via a grimy lift that squeaked and rattled on its way down.

‘So, where’s this ship you say you’ve found?’ said Katherine. ‘I didn’t see anything on the way in except the mining complex. Is it inside the mines? Pardon me, but I hadn’t planned on going down a mine full of toxic chemicals.’

‘No, the ship is on the surface I assure you,’ said Reynaud.

‘Then where is it?’ said Rekkid.

‘About a day’s travel from here by crawler,’ Reynaud replied. ‘Don’t worry. The journey is relatively safe, despite the harsh conditions out there.’

The lift jolted to a halt and they stepped out into a dimly lit corridor lined with exposed pipes and conduits, busy with the comings and goings of miners and base staff. They followed in Cox’s wake through the subterranean maze.

‘A day’s travel?’ said Katherine. ‘Why the hell didn’t we just land at the site instead of coming here?’

‘All in good time Doctor,’ rumbled Cox. ‘For now I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your mouth shut for the time being. We wouldn’t want to go blabbing about it all over the station.’

Katherine felt as though she had just been admonished by a bad tempered school master.

Cox lead them through the labyrinthine base, past offices and mess halls, workshops and loading areas and along a corridor overlooking the main cargo craft hangar where, through the plexi-glass viewing windows, huge ore lifters could be seen docking in a vast, shielded blast pit. Eventually they arrived at a vehicle garage containing a number of security rovers as well as a handful of boxy surface crawlers, their armoured bodies each squatting on four huge wheels. A small ramp sloped down from the open rear door of one of the hulking yellow vehicles. Cox strode over to it.

‘I still don’t see why we couldn’t have just flown to the site,’ said Katherine, as the four of them sat in the crawler’s rear crew lounge, which swayed erratically as the vehicle traversed the uneven terrain. Through the rear windows, the black silhouette of the mining was receding into the amber-coloured haze of the horizon.

‘Because,’ said Cox. ‘We don’t want the general public knowing about it, that’s why. It cost us enough to pay off the two prospectors who found it by accident. We hardly want a whole planet full of miners poking their grubby noses in do we? Ships coming and going from an unregistered site would attract attention sooner or later. This way we can operate unnoticed and preserve the site from thieves and raiders.’

‘What about military vehicles coming and going from the desert?’ said Rekkid. ‘I don’t know if you’d realised, but twenty foot high crawlers painted yellow tend to stand out.’

‘Ah well, you see in that we are fortunate,’ Reynaud cut in. ‘You may have noticed all the troops hanging around Barstow Station?’

‘Yes. We assumed it was something to do with the pirate trouble you’ve been having.’

‘You are correct,’ said Reynaud. ‘Apparently those thugs have been causing quite a lot of trouble for the inhabitants of this system. Mining settlements are no exception; there have been a number of raids on precious metal shipments and so on, so the Commonwealth has stationed extra troops on the surface to reassure the population and keep the mining operations going. Our forays into the desert can be explained away as part of such measures. We’re just another patrol, no?’

‘Are any of these troops stationed at the dig site?’ said Katherine.

‘A few,’ said Cox. ‘Just to patrol the perimeter and stop anyone sneaking in or out. There’s a big market for ancient alien artefacts on the black market, as I’m sure you’re aware. A lot of people come to the frontier systems to make their fortune. Smuggling out a few items like the ones I showed to you yesterday would go a long way to achieving that for somebody.’

Katherine nodded. ‘Well that’s true enough. Thieves have always been the bane of our profession. So much has been lost over the years to greed and vandalism.’

‘Pardon me for asking what might seem like an obvious question,’ said Rekkid. ‘But what is there to stop someone from spotting the sight from the air or from space. Surely the dig site must be quite large? You are excavating a ship after all.’

‘Fortunately the site lies well away from any of the flight paths to and from the surface settlements, as for prying eyes in space, well, it’s all a matter of knowing where to look in the first place isn’t it? In any case, we’ve erected a temporary shelter over the site until the ship can be moved. As well as shielding the site from view, it helps to protect our workforce from some of the effects of Rhyolite’s environment.’

‘You’re planning to lift the ship off the surface?’ said Katherine.

‘Yes. The vessel will be moved off planet for further study if possible to somewhere where the environment isn’t quite so hostile. Henri is already putting together a team to study the craft’s technology. Isn’t that so?’

‘Yes, absolutely. Perhaps there may be a place for you both on that team. I would appreciate your input and your expertise,’ said Reynaud, his gaze firmly fixed on Katherine.

‘Well, we’ll think about that when the time comes Doctor,’ Katherine replied smoothly. ‘For now we’re simply interested in viewing the site and the progress you’ve made so far.’

‘Naturally,’ Reynaud replied. ‘You do not approve?’ he said, turning to Rekkid.

‘I think it all depends on how long either of us can tolerate your ego,’ Rekkid replied. ‘I’d also appreciate it if we could have some sort of firm information on what you’ve actually found, though I suppose that would spoil your sense of theatre, wouldn’t it?’

‘Professor Cor, I only refrained from bringing such documentation with me because to do so would contravene the security regulations surrounding the site, is that not so Admiral?’ said Reynaud. Cox nodded slowly. ‘Now, I think we should put aside our professional differences and work together on this. Besides, we have a day to get acquainted aboard this crawler.’

‘Yeah, great,’ said Rekkid. ‘I think I might choose to ride on the roof. If it’s a choice between acid storms and your company I’ll go for the clouds of sulphur dioxide every time.’

Reynaud laughed and shook his head.

That evening, Reynaud found Katherine in the control cab of the crawler, curled up in one of the command chairs opposite the current driver, a thick-set man by the name of Farouk who glowered over the controls at the uneven terrain ahead. They were currently crossing a dried up lake bed, the white plain of crystallised minerals tinted a fiery orange by the light of the setting sun. Farouk appeared to be concentrating on the line of existing vehicle tracks across the heat-cracked surface that meandered around the more fragile or broken areas. Though the vehicle was guided by satellite navigation, the unpredictable nature of Rhyolite’s surface still required a human driver to cope with the ever changing terrain.

Outside, the wind howled against the cab windows, spraying their outer panes with fine dust.

‘Ah, Katherine. I wondered where you had got to.’

‘I came up here to think, and to admire the view. Farouk’s been pointing out the various natural features.’

‘It is not so different from my home,’ said Farouk, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. ‘My home is a harsh, beautiful place like this one. Though on New Hatti you can breathe the air without it boiling your lungs away.’

‘Sound like a charming place,’ said Reynaud.

‘I like it,’ said Farouk darkly. ‘Sometimes one needs the emptiness of the wastelands. Gives you time to think. No idiots chattering away to disturb your thoughts.’

‘You do a lot of thinking then?’ Reynaud quizzed him, half mocking in tone.

‘What, you think I’m some stupid bus driver?’ Farouk shot back. ‘I’m one of the best prospectors in this system, and the best land crawler pilot. Just because I get my hands dirty doing a day’s work, you think I’m an idiot? Perhaps you can drive this thing. Let’s see how far we get then, eh?’

Katherine twisted round in her seat so she could look directly at Reynaud. ‘What did you want Henri?’ she said. ‘Did you get bored of trying to wind up Rekkid so you thought you’d come and annoy us?’

Reynaud sat himself down in an empty seat behind Farouk across from Katherine. He removed his spectacles and started to polish them with a handkerchief.

‘No, though you are right about my boredom. I thought perhaps we could get acquainted.’

Great, thought Katherine.

‘Henri, how did you end up on this dig?’ she said. ‘I’m well aware of your talent for self promotion, but why did Cox pick you for this?’

‘Ah well

’ said Reynaud and replaced his glasses. ‘Poor Admiral Cox, he is a very

a very bitter man in many respects.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The Admiral is, by all accounts, a brilliant strategist and a respected commander of men, but he doesn’t know how to play the political game. He thinks that that’s why Admiral Haines was chosen to lead the war whilst he was sidelined and given the task of defending our other borders. Cox was promised his own command in the field, but the war was over before he got it. He and Haines have had their differences over the years. They served together for some time, you know. I think Cox believes that Haines had something to do with his ill fortune.’

‘Does he?’

‘Maybe, who knows? I don’t honestly care.’

‘So where do you fit in?’

‘James Cox and I have known one another for some time. My ex-wife was a friend of his sister’s so we moved in the same social circles. When the wreck was found here on Rhyolite, I think Cox saw it as an opportunity to raise his profile in the eyes of the Joint Chiefs by presenting them with new and exciting technologies that the Navy could use. So he turned to me - someone he could trust and who had the necessary skills to see the project through the way he wants.’

‘And what’s in it for you?’

‘Why, my name in history of course. Cox gets his prize, I get my discoveries. It’s win-win all round Katherine. Of course, we needed people with knowledge of very ancient civilisations and their languages, so we turned to you two. You know, this could really revive your fortunes.’

‘My fortunes are fine, Henri.’

‘Hmm. Yet no-one knows where you two have been for the past few years. No-one has seen either of you since the start of the war. I know, I checked with your faculty back on Earth.’

‘I can’t tell you, it’s classified.’

‘So I gather

your colleagues told us to contact the Navy as to your whereabouts. Ah well, we all have our secrets, do we not?’

‘We certainly do.’

‘Perhaps you’d care to share a few stories in confidence? The device you found at Maranos for example - I would be fascinated to hear your own personal account of what transpired. I was only jesting earlier when I said I did not believe you. The things we say in the heat of an argument eh?’ He laughed self effacingly.

‘Sorry Henri, I don’t crack that easily. As your military friends like to say: you’ll be informed on a need to know basis, and well, you don’t need to know.’

‘I don’t? Katherine, you disappoint me.’

‘Sorry, nothing to do with me I’m afraid.’

‘Well I hope you are not disappointed when I show you what we have found. It is quite remarkable.’

‘So you keep saying, then you go all vague on us.’

‘I would not wish to spoil the surprise! Driver, tell me, how much longer before we arrive at the dig site?’

‘Another fifteen hours at least,’ Farouk replied.

‘Can we not go any faster?’

‘Well yes, of course we can go faster. Then perhaps we will drive down a geyser vent, or a lava tunnel will collapse under us and kill us all.’

Reynaud threw up his hands and made a show of despair. ‘Well perhaps in that case I shall turn in for the night. You would do well to do so also Katherine, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.’

‘I think I’ll stay up here for a while, Henri. Good night.’

‘Good night, my dear.’

With that Reynaud got up and left, leaving Katherine alone with Farouk.

‘Sorry about him,’ she said, pointing at the door through which Reynaud had departed.

‘Why should you apologise? It is not your fault. That man is a fool. Too much in love with himself, I think.’

‘You can say that again.’

‘I think he has an eye for you though.’

‘Lucky old me.’

Farouk laughed throatily.

‘How long till your brother takes over at the wheel? You’ve been up here for ten hours at least.’

‘Ibrahim should have already have taken over. He is asleep, but I don’t want to wake him just yet. There is something over this next ridge I wish to show you.’

‘What?’

‘Wait and see.’

The crawler was climbing steeply now, up an angled plain scattered with vast geodes, lying like giant, glittering clinkers amid the ash. Ahead, the sky had turned a deeper orange and a faint rumbling reverberated through the crawler, growing in intensity as they ascended.

As they reached the summit the crawler tipped forward, and Katherine let out a gasp of amazement at the scene that greeted her. Ahead, the land sloped steeply down into a wide valley torn by volcanic vents. At the far end, the source of the rumbling sound could now clearly be seen; a great plume of sulphur blasting skywards in choking toxic clouds from the summit of a bright yellow volcano. As the clouds ascended to the upper levels of the atmosphere they began to dissipate, catching the light of the suns setting beyond the jagged range of hills on the horizon, before falling as toxic rain that fizzled off the crawler’s energy shield.

‘You know, many people think that this place looks like hell,’ said Farouk as he guided the crawled down the steep slope. ‘I think not. I don’t think that hell would be as beautiful as this. It is a strange, savage place, I know, but I have grown rather fond of it. It has its own charms’

‘Is there much scenery like this on the way?’

‘Yes, you can stay up here in the cab as long as you like, you know.’

She did. When Rekkid came to find her later, he found her curled up, fast asleep in the cab, with Farouk’s brother now at the controls, guiding the crawler through the night via infrared, his green-tinted vision of the night stained red and orange by the heat of the fires bursting from the planet’s core.

The sky was blood red with the light of whirling, ancient, bloated stars. As her vision travelled upwards she saw their nemesis, a sphere of darkness light years across, encircled with a halo of bright annihilation and with twin jets of superheated plasma spewing from its violently spinning poles. It was a gigantic black hole. An eater of worlds, a devourer of stars, a bringer of absolute destruction. The accretion disk about its equator cast a baleful light on the dead landscape about her. The atmosphere had been boiled away long ago, the world ripped violently from its orbit as the parent star had wandered too close to the black hole, catapulting the luckless planet into a looping orbit. The silhouette of a broken city lay on the horizon, twisted and shattered edifices reaching towards the sanguine sky like broken fangs lunging at a wound. Closer to, black and angular monoliths shimmered with computational power. The machines within were still active after so many eons. Their humming filled the air like the droning of bees, their surfaces wrought with the tiniest of alien characters that glowed and shifted with the changing sound. The alien script seemed familiar somehow, but they twisted and faded if she focused her eyes upon them.

Turning her gaze skyward she looked in silent awe at the black hole and bathed in its terrible beauty. She saw now that it was surrounded by artificial constructions of some kind. Equidistantly spaced points of light formed a sphere about the black hole, hovering above its event horizon, riding the wash of cataclysmic energy whilst a vast bracelet encircled its equator, drinking the energy from the accretion disk. Her vision swooped in closer until one of the points filled her vision - how could she do that?

She realised that she was dreaming.

She saw an alien archipelago, many hundreds of kilometres across. It was a gigantic collection array somehow immune to the surrounding storm, feeding greedily from it with space-time distortion scoops that funnelled the whirling energised particles into its many hungry mouths, and in turn a horde of things suckled from it like new born mammals feeding from their mother. She couldn’t make out if the things were ships or creatures or some weird combination of both. They writhed indistinctly at the limits of her vision like a shoal of fish in the ocean depths, shimmering in the death light.

Her vision pulled away, then swooped out again – nay, was directed out – to a fainter point of light approaching the planet she stood on. It moved slowly, a delicate mote, bright and fragile against the apocalyptic backdrop. She looked closer, zooming in until she could see clearly. It was a ship, antiquated and battered beyond belief, but recognisably human. Cylindrical modules had been bolted to a frame of struts with a boxy drive section affixed to the stern. It drifted slowly, broken and dying, like a butterfly in a hurricane. The shimmering wings of its twisted solar panels completed the impression.

‘Help us,’ said a voice. It was a frantic whisper, desperate and pleading. ‘Help us, please.’

She reached up a hand to the ship, so far away. She couldn’t reach, no matter how she stretched she couldn’t quite manage to touch it, her fingertips brushing one the gossamer solar panels.

‘Help us,’ said the voice again.

‘I can’t,’ she heard herself say.

‘You are so close, please help us.’

Something moved in the space adjacent to the stricken ship. It shifted against the blackness like a mirage, stars distorting in its wake.

She tried to shout a warning to the ship, but her words were silenced. Frantically she tried to bat the dark thing away, but to no avail. Tentacles of blackness began to envelope the vessel. She heard screaming, screams that were cut off by the writhing darkness. The humming from the monoliths was building, filling her head with a nauseating throbbing sensation. They began to glow with a sickly hue.

‘Katherine.’

A laughing filled the air, a joyless death rattle.

‘Katherine.’

The surface of the nearest pillar had become liquid. The outline of a leering face could be seen on its now in the oily surface. The laughter grew louder, emanating from that horrible mask. The lips moved, forming glutinous words.

‘We are watching,’ it said.

‘Katherine.’

She felt herself being shaken.

‘Katherine, wake up.’

The thing seem to grow nearer, the monoliths loomed taller, curving over to block the sky, crowding her.

‘We are watching you,’ they said in unison. ‘There is nothing that we do not see.’

She screamed in silence.

‘Katherine!’

She felt herself shaken awake. Flailing around blearily, she focused and saw Rekkid’s Arkari features peering down at her. Across the cab, Ibrahim alternated his attention between her and the road ahead.

‘You alright? It seemed like you were having a nightmare.’

‘Nearly made me crash,’ said Ibrahim. ‘You started calling out all sorts of things all of a sudden. Frightened me to death!’

‘Uh, yeah. It was a bad dream that’s all,’ she replied, her mouth feeling thick and slow with the after-effects of sleep. ‘I should

I should probably go to my cabin.’

She unfolded herself from the seat, feeling stiff from the odd position she had fallen asleep in, and then made her way unsteadily through the guts of the crawler. Rekkid followed.

‘The strangest thing,’ she muttered.

‘What were you dreaming about?’ said Rekkid.

‘I

I don’t know

it was so odd.’

‘What do you mean?’

She stopped in the gangway and hung onto a grab handle as she turned to face Rekkid. ‘Well, I was conscious that I was dreaming for a start, but it was like someone else was directing the action, as though I was being shown a recording

and there were these voices. There were people in a ship crying for help

and this other voice

it was awful.’

‘Just a bad dream Katherine. Bouncing around in the cab probably didn’t help.’

‘I suppose. I must sound terribly silly.’

‘Get some proper sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning.’

She nodded mutely and turned to the door of her own cramped cabin. As she did so she noticed the light from Rekkid’s cabin as he entered. His screen was showing another tract of Progenitor script. She shook her head wearily and closed her cabin door behind her.

It was a long time before she could fall asleep again. The memory of that hideous voice was still fresh in her mind.

Rekkid sat on his bunk, hunched over the slim opened book shape of his computer. The light from the paper thin screen illuminated his finely contoured features, highlighting the hard edges of the crest of chitin plates than ran down the centre of his cranium.

On the screen itself the display was split vertically into two windows, the left hand, displaying Progenitor text, the right hand displaying a translation. He had managed to copy about a hundred or so of the slim data wafers that they had found on the Sphere before they had been taken away from him. Each had contained huge volumes of compressed data in their chains of mathematically arranged subatomic particles. Even with the software tools that Rekkid and Katherine’s research had been used to create, it took quite a while for the arcane data structures and programming languages to be decoded and emulated. The result was a mass of data that even Rekkid’s Arkari made computer struggled to cope with. He had had to store the data on a number of removable memory blocks in order to leave enough space within his machine’s storage for anything else.

It still puzzled him why the Progenitors had left this archive behind, as if on purpose. All of the files he had looked at so far had been fairly innocuous, albeit in a military sort of way. He had spent much of the previous day trawling through endless maintenance logs for the various ships that had been stationed at the Sphere shortly before its fall. There had, admittedly, been a very large number. It seemed as if the habitat had been used as a staging post of some kind during the war, however much of the technical language was meaningless to him and doubtless to anyone else who now read it. What was clear was that the Progenitors had suffered terrible losses and many of the surviving ships were badly damaged beyond the point where their own self repair facilities were able to cope.

Perhaps this was what the Arkari government was interested in? Perhaps they had some insight into the technical jargon that others did not, and hoped to benefit the Arkari from fresh advances. The most likely reason though, was his government’s continual desire to do what they saw as the right thing, coupled with their inherent superiority complex and isolationist outlook. They simply didn’t trust others to do the job properly, didn’t trust them with something so potentially important, particularly non-Arkari and wayward academics.

The meritocracy of his people tended to engender this sort of outlook, he mused. In theory, it was supposed to elect the best and the brightest to senior positions. But the side effect was that it not only put people on a pedestal, but then actually provided them with the justification for their own success - that they were better than other people. It often led to arrogance.

The block of files he was currently browsing through was far more interesting, however. It was a record of personal data, messages sent by the people stationed on the Sphere during its last days; love letters, jokes, gossip and personal day-to-day details. These were the voices of people long dead even before many of the current star systems had even formed. There was an air of sadness about many of them, as though their writers knew that defeat was coming, the jokes grim and defiant, the love letters often desperate and yearning. They all spoke of a people at their darkest hour, preparing to make a last stand. He picked one at random and read it:

My precious Etalia

How long is it since I last saw you? Tarunn tells me you made it through the evacuation of the Takaro Belt colonies. For a while I thought I’d lost you for good and that would have been too much. We’re preparing to make a stand here at Bivian. The enemy fleet is on the way, but we reckon we can hold the bastards long enough to give them a bloody nose. We have the technology, but they have the numbers. Still, every time we kill one of them it buys time for our people to get away.

I’m sorry to tell you that Dedarwil bought it last week. The crazy bastard rammed his damaged fighter into the bridge of one of the enemy destroyers but his cockpit eject-tel didn’t work. At least he went out in style though. It’s what he would have wanted. I just hope I can hang on long enough to get out of here in once piece. With a bit of luck we’ll be joining the exodus very soon. Wait for me, but not too long.

My love

Rau.

It was one amongst thousands, perhaps millions of similar messages. Lost voices from a cataclysmic war now almost forgotten. Historians would spend years sifting them, building up a picture of the last days of that ancient, glorious first flowering of civilisation in the galaxy. Rekkid silently cursed his government for appropriating the files and denying them the chance to view the rest.

He popped the memory block out of the machine and grabbed another from the pile at his side. He searched through the contents and a puzzled frown crossed his alien features. This was something different. Instead of the thousands of pieces of data he was expecting there were just a few. He hadn’t really had the time to examine what data the wafers had contained when he copied them, so this was first time he had seen the contents of this block. There were a few thousand data transmissions, but most of the block was filled with a single file which had evidently been stored on a wafer with a greater capacity than the others. He tried to access the large file, but his machine reported back that instead of being a simple data file it represented some sort of executable program and he would have to wait until its sub-AI processors were able to interpret the code structure, decompress the file and repair any broken or corrupted data before providing some sort of emulated environment for it run in. Rekkid gave the slim machine the go-ahead and then sat back while it started to work.

After about ten minutes the machine’s progress display indicated that it had processed approximately one per cent of the file. Rekkid cursed the beautifully designed, sophisticated piece of Arkari technology and made his way aft through the crawler to the small galley area where he began to hunt for something to drink. Finally he succeeded in locating a half empty bottle of whisky labelled for passenger use. He’d found a few other bottles of various things too, but they were clearly labelled as being out of bounds with various messages scrawled on their labels as to what would happen to anyone foolish enough to ignore the fact.

He was pouring himself a measure of the golden brown liquid when he heard Katherine cry out in her cabin. Leaving the drink he rushed to the source of the sound and found her sitting on the side of her bunk, her head in her hands, dishevelled red hair partially hiding her face. She looked up at him through the tangle of strands.

‘The same dream again?’ he said. She nodded and brushed the stray hair from her face.

‘This is bloody ridiculous,’ she said. ‘But

I’m not the one controlling the dream, it’s like I’m being forced to watch a film inside my head. How the hell is that even possible?’ She threw up her hands. ‘Christ, listen to me: messages in dreams. I mean come on; we’re stepping into the domain of the ridiculous here. Maybe I should just buy a load of crystals, cleanse my aura and give in to a life of flakiness.’

‘It’s not impossible you know. My people have entertainment devices that allow the user to experience pre-programmed dreams whilst they sleep by manipulating the electro-chemical signals in the brain. I suppose if someone has managed to do it over a greater distance

’

‘But why me? Why should I be singled out? And who the hell is doing it?’

‘Who said that you are the only one? Maybe others have experienced this, maybe there’s something about the environment on this moon that affects the electro-chemical processes in the brain?’

‘Someone is trying to communicate Rekkid. I don’t know what exactly, but every time they try others try to stop them and then

they make all sorts of threats. Horrible threats

and then they show me things.’

‘They? Who’s “they”?’

‘I don’t know. The first voice was a cry for help at first, then in the second dream it was more like a warning I think, it sounded

human. I kept seeing a ship, an old human ship like the sort I’d see in history books as a child.’

‘Maybe it’s just that, a historical record. Perhaps they once encountered a human ship and they were trying to show you something familiar. Whoever they are.’

‘I think it was the ship, the one Reynaud and Cox are excavating. A number of times the voice kept telling me I was so close, or that I was coming closer to them and should keep going.’

‘I don’t know Katherine; it all sounds a bit

’

‘Far-fetched?’

‘Well, I didn’t like to say.’

‘Yeah, listen to me, eh? Hmm, so how many black holes are there in the galaxy?’

‘Don’t know, dozens, hundreds maybe. Most of them are situated towards the galactic core, where most of the older, heavier stars are. Why?’

‘In the dream I kept seeing the surface of a planet. There were these strange ruins and in the sky was what looked like a black hole. I could see the accretion disk edge-on, and there was something built around it, and lots of ships too.’

‘An image of the ship’s origins? Their home planet perhaps? If the ship comes from an ancient civilization as Cox and Reynaud claim, it’s conceivable that their home-world was destroyed long ago. Maybe that’s what it was trying to show you, an exodus of some kind.’

‘Maybe, who knows?’

‘Perhaps someone does. We should ask around Katherine, see what we can find out. I wonder if anyone else has experienced anything strange like this?’

Chapter 10

The stars wheeled around the cockpit as Isaacs threw the bomber into another tight, evasive turn. He banked the heavy craft then spun it laterally through one hundred and eighty degrees to face the target asteroid, negative gees throwing him forward against his seat restraints. As he did so he heard Valdez, his weapons officer, let out a whoop from the back seat as he released the training torpedoes at the now receding target. He gunned the main engines and the port lateral thrusters, sliding the ship sideways around the asteroid so that Valdez could get a clear shot at the second target marker. Valdez obliged with an acutely angled shot that grazed some of the higher surface features on the asteroid before smashing home with a powerful kinetic blow that scattered a plume of rock and ice chips from the slowly tumbling boulder.

‘All right Alpha four, good shooting. Isaacs, you want to come out of that reverse vector move a little quicker but that was some nice flying.’ The gravelly voice of Captain Carlotti - his squadron commander - crackled over the ship-to-ship comm. system.

‘Yes sir, though I think the gyroscopes are a little out on this tub,’ Isaacs replied. ‘You know the fitters back at the carrier have been griping about these new Azraels ever since we got ‘em.’

‘Yeah well, in a real battle situation you got to be prepared for unexpected mishaps like that. Hell, I once took down an Imperial destroyer’s bridge with half of my fucking ship missing during the war.’

‘Yes sir, you said sir.’

‘Did I?’

With a start, Isaacs realised that his commander had snuck his ship alongside whilst they had been talking. The stubby wing of the torpedo bomber floated mere inches away from that of his own.

‘You see pilot, sometimes things can surprise you. Being able to handle that marks out the good pilots from the lizard fodder.’

‘Sir.’

Isaacs glanced at the cockpit of the other vessel and saw Carlotti give him a thumbs up.

‘Hey Isaacs,’ came Valdez’s voice from the rear cockpit. ‘I thought it was pretty sweet manoeuvre myself, but still not as daring as that one you pulled on that young Lieutenant last night. What was her name? You got her name, right?’

‘Yeah, it was Mrs Valdez. Apparently her son flies torp bombers for the Navy, though he may not live long enough to see any action.’

‘Fuck you, man!’ Valdez replied with a laugh as the other three craft in their wing dropped into formation having completed their own runs. The shark-mouthed paint jobs of the five ships snarled in the pale yellow light of the system’s sun. Isaacs tried to remember the name of the system. It was just a string of numbers and he had to look at his navigational computer to refresh his memory. This far out on the south-western reaches, the Commonwealth had staked a claim on many systems that it hadn’t actually got around to settling yet and so many of the stars possessed only catalogue numbers rather than names.

They’d been out here a few weeks now, as the Saipan conducted a sweep of the area, rooting out pirates and smugglers as a show of force designed to dissuade anyone from preying on the new, fragile colonies out here on the frontier. The old carrier was due to be retired to make way for a new Jupiter class carrier that would carry its name and Isaacs and his squadron were due to be transferred to the Agrippa at the end of the month. The old ship was one of the few carriers that had survived the war thirty years earlier and was now being finally defeated by progress. It was due to end up in a naval museum somewhere back in the Solar System, shoved in a dry dock for tourists to gawp at. The once proud warship would lie silent and dead, like a stuffed creature in a glass case.

‘All right listen up people,’ Carlotti voice cut in over the comm. ‘The Saipan’s receiving a distress call from a freighter in the system. It’s not far from here, but she’ll have to recall her squadrons before moving to intercept. We’re the nearest to the source of the signal so we’ll go and check it out. I’m transferring the coordinates to your navi-comps now.’

‘Fucking freighters,’ said Valdez over the comm. ‘What’s the bet that some dumb-ass junker fried his engines or drove into an asteroid? Don’t they have any fighter pukes this far out? They should send them. It’d be much faster as long as they could persuade them to stop admiring their reflections in the cockpit mirrors for five minutes.’

‘Fighters ain’t got our range mate, ain’t got no jump capability neither,’ said Watts from Alpha two’s driving seat. ‘Besides, maybe someone wants this done right?’

Valdez chuckled in agreement.

‘Fucking fighter pukes. Hey, you here about the time a fighter puke managed to hit the target? He actually got it in the bowl for once.’

‘Alright ladies, stop your yapping and slave your jump drives to mine,’ said Carlotti. ‘Jumping in five, four, three, two, one

’ Space folded itself out of existence.

A few moments later the five Azraels emerged from their collective jump destination fifty kilometres from the source of the distress signal. The freighter could be seen in the distance, a roughly oblong shape of struts, engine and habitation modules around a cargo of cube shaped containers. The vessel seemed to be drifting slightly.

‘Picking up the distress signal now,’ said Valdez. ‘Putting it through.’

‘

this is the independent haulage vessel Bactrian out of New Fife. We have suffered a complete power failure and are drifting out of control. Repeat this is the independent haulage vessel

’

‘Roger that Bactrian,’ said Carlotti as they pulled alongside the stricken ship. ‘This is Alpha squadron of the 110 Bomber Wing. We have sortied from the carrier Saipan in answer to your distress call. Repair teams will be with you shortly. Over.’

‘Oh thank God!’ said the Bactrian’s captain. ‘We thought we’d be drifting out here forever. We only just managed to get the comm. system working again.’

‘What was the cause of your systems failure?’ said Carlotti. ‘There’s no obvious damage to your vessel.’

‘We

we don’t know. We registered unusual readings just before the whole ship died on us and we dropped out of our jump. Most of us thought that the readings were due to the malfunction that killed the ship - whatever it was. It’s difficult to trace the fault in near darkness - but our navigation officer swears he saw something on the hyperspace scanners just before it happened.’

‘What kind of something?’

‘Another ship, unknown type. He said he only saw it for a second.’

‘Alright, we’ll check it out. Alpha squadron, set your sensors to maximum resolution and range. If anything’s hiding out here behind a rock, or has jumped in and out of the area let’s find it. We don’t want any surprises.’

‘Sir, I thought you said

’ Isaac started to quip.

Carlotti silenced him. ‘Now’s not the time pilot. Anyone spot anything?’ There was no reply from any of the others in the wing. ‘Alright, the repair team should be here any time now. Got the jump signature of the transport, twenty-one light minutes out from our position. Hang in there Bactrian. Can your nav officer give us any further details about this unknown ship?’

‘Got something,’ said the weapons officer in Alpha Three. ‘There’s a localised area of space-time distortion coupled with some weird neutrino and tachyon radiation about five clicks off the port bow of the Bactrian. Maybe that’s what fried the ship? I dunno.’

‘Doubtful, if they haven’t flown through it yet,’ Carlotti replied.

‘Unless it was bigger when they arrived here and the disruption to their jump drive envelope fried the rest of their systems.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Hang on, I’m getting something now,’ said Valdez. ‘Building levels of neutrino emissions and tachyon radiation, there’s some fucking weird shit going on in local space-time too.’

‘Location!?’ barked Carlotti.

‘Shit… fuck, it’s all around us!’

Isaacs saw it then, in the rear view cockpit mirrors, an impression of a shape at first. He turned his head to see.

‘Something’s behind us!’ he cried out over the comm. As one, the squadron spun their ships through one hundred and eighty degrees to face the new threat. Something was emerging from hyperspace. It seemed to break the surface of space-time like a whale emerging from the ocean depths. It was large, approximately the same size as the Saipan, an alien ship of a strange and unfamiliar design. The vessel was composed of interlocking blue-white glittering plates arranged in concentric rows that tapered back from the blunt prow, giving it the appearance of a spiked bloom made from shards of ice. It possessed a terrible, cold beauty, like an arctic winter. It filled Isaacs with an overwhelming sense of dread. Despite its splendour the ship exuded pure terror. Something about the way it moved made his skin crawl, like the sight of a maggot burrowing through flesh.

‘Sir, I recommend we get out of here. We should notify the Saipan

. Sir?

There was no response from the comm. system. He looked over at Carlotti’s ship and saw this squadron leader frantically signalling to him with his hands. Isaacs then realised with a start that the entire console in front of him was dying. Controls and head up displays winking out one by one. Frantically he tried the back-up power reserves and got no response as the huge, beautiful, awful thing swam closer. In desperation he thumped the controls, eliciting no response from the dead instruments. The mysterious craft reached out with its energy fields and dragged the flight of helpless ships into its maw.

‘What’s up? What’s the matter?’ Anita’s large dark eyes looked down at him in the darkness beneath prominent, arching eyebrows. He had been half dreaming, half remembering again, drifting in and out of sleeping and waking nightmares. His rapid breathing and tossing and turning must have woken her.

‘Were you having a nightmare?’ she said, brushing a strand of dark hair away from her mouth.

‘Yeah, something like that.’

‘You poor thing,’ she replied and kissed him slowly on the lips, pressing her firm, light brown body against his.

He had ended up getting very drunk at The Hole with Shigs. Far drunker than he had intended, and then his friend had introduced him to this new bar maid of his, Anita, who kept pouring him more free drinks the more he flirted with her. She was working her way around the galaxy, stopping for a few weeks or months at a time in different places and taking odd-jobs to fund her next hop to another system. He’d stayed well after closing time with them both and then he’d volunteered to escort Anita back to her rented quarters in a different part of the asteroid. Considering the extent of his drunkenness he wasn’t sure who had been seeing who home safely. She’d pretty much dragged him up to her room in any case, and he hadn’t protested too loudly. The poor demented girl obviously had a thing for dishevelled freighter captains.

What the hell, it felt good to be with a woman again. It had been quite a while, his solitary existence on board the Profit Margin being what it was. He actually felt human again for the first time since Anna had left him, instead of the hollow detachment he usually experienced. Anita had seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm at any rate, though he’d found her occasional exclamations in Hindi a little off-putting.

It was always the same when he drank heavily though. He’d decided some time ago that the alcohol must do something to his brain functions to make the dreams come back. As soon as he fell asleep the dark and unpleasant memories would come swirling up from the depths of his consciousness to haunt him. He wasn’t about to share them with Anita; she didn’t need that kind of shit to deal with. She’d probably go scurrying back to the safety of the core systems if she knew of half the stuff he’d experienced out here on the frontier.

He had an absolutely appalling headache too. It had only been a few hours since he’d fallen asleep, but already the hangover was starting to bite. A spear of pain lanced into his head from behind his right eyeball. Fucking Shigs and his dodgy free beer, he cursed inwardly.

‘You got anything for a hangover?’ he said.

‘Yeah, in the bathroom. There’s some pain killers in the cabinet over the sink.’

‘Thanks.’

He swung out of bed and padded naked to the bathroom, eyeing himself in the small mirror whilst he swallowed the tablets with a glass of tepid water, feeling the painkillers kick in within a few seconds. If he’d had any sense he’d have taken some hangover prevention pills before he’d even gone to the bar. What the hell. What was point in drinking heavily if you didn’t get the full effect? Some people even took things that stopped them getting drunk at all, which seemed to Isaacs to defeat the entire point of the exercise.

He rubbed his bloodshot eyes as the painful effects of the hangover ebbed away then made his way back to the bedroom, slipping gratefully back under the covers.

‘Feeling better now?’ said Anita, wrapping herself back around the right hand side of his body.

‘Yeah thanks, too much dodgy booze. I blame that barmaid who kept forcing me to drink it.’

She laughed in the darkness. ‘It was all part of my devious plan.’

‘What, get me drunk and take advantage of me? What was it that did it for you? Are you just after a ride in my spaceship?’

‘Something like that.’ She gripped his balls suddenly, causing him to gasp. He kissed her hungrily.

‘You are feeling better aren’t you, Captain Isaacs,’ she purred, noting his response.

‘Better by the second.’

‘So I see.’

He laughed quietly and kissed her again.

He left Anita’s late in the morning, kissing her once as he left her apartment and making promises to call her which both of them knew were empty. Even if he did come back this way, in all likelihood she’d be long gone. He grabbed breakfast from a street side vendor and made his way to the transport tube with what could only be described as a spring in his step, the last after-effects of his hangover dissipating as his body digested the food.

He took the tube to the polar docking bays. On the brief journey he took the key card that Shigs had given him from his wallet and inspected it, finding nothing unusual about the scratched, rectangle of plastic. He would return to Anna’s apartment later, but first he was going to check out the docking bay still leased in her name here on Merenik.

As he replaced the card inside his wallet he noticed a Nahabe across the carriage from him. Was it watching him? He chided himself for his paranoia. The silent presence of those monolith-like sarcophagi was a little unsettling. He got a little more paranoid however, when the same Nahabe followed him off the tube and then shared another transport tube capsule with him, before floating off into the crowds of the busy port area that formed a disk at the asteroid’s pole. He walked for a while amongst the throngs along the main circumpolar thoroughfare of shops and dock entrances and eventually found the commercial section where individuals and companies could lease or buy bays for regular use. There were fewer people about around this section and Isaacs kept checking to see whether he was still being followed, assuming he ever had been in the first place.

The curving street took him past a number of large bays rented to the major corporations and freight haulage concerns, until he reached a section of privately owned ones. He checked the number that Shigs had given him against the blocky figures stencilled next to the entrance and walked down a short corridor to an armoured pressure door fitted with a combination key pad. Pausing to retrieve a scrap of paper from his wallet, he punched in the code, opened the door and stepped into the airlock within. There was a brief pause whilst the second door opened, then he stepped into the bay beyond.

To his disappointment, the bay was largely empty. The large steel and concrete space echoed to the sound of his footsteps. The air smelled faintly of the spilled coolant which had formed a rainbow puddle in the centre of the huge flat ship lift. The delineated and chevron covered surface filled most of the floor space and its quartered structure would have been capable of accommodating one large vessel or four smaller ones. The air cycling system hummed faintly in the background. Isaacs shivered slightly in the chill air.

There was little else in the bay, save for a small stack of crates piled against the walls of a small prefabricated hut in one corner of the bay. Isaacs sauntered over for a look, and found them to be the remainder of a consignment of ship electronics or at least, that’s what the labels claimed they were. The crates were tightly locked and there was no way of opening them without keys or heavy cutting equipment and Isaacs had neither.

The hut however, was not locked. Isaacs shouldered its rusty aluminium door open with a teeth jarring scrape of metal and poked around inside its musty, cluttered interior. The hut appeared to have been used in the recent past as a sort of workmen’s refuge-cum-office of some kind. There was a scattering of various power tools, a few boxes of assorted small ship components and bolts and folders full of hard copies of invoices. Isaacs flipped through them.

Anna must have been running a small fleet out of this bay for such a large number of repairs. Isaacs knew a fair bit about ship maintenance – his life depended on it at times. Amongst the numerous requests for generic parts there were items specific to roughly half a dozen different ship types, from tiny shuttles to heavily armed corvettes and bulk freighters. Some of them appeared to have taken serious damage too. Whatever they were doing here, their journeys to and from the Labyrinth were taking them into risky territory.

Isaacs saw it all fitting together now. Shigs’ accounts of her being seen with large numbers of suspicious characters throwing money around, a private docking bay providing repairs to a fleet of ships, many of them armed, and several different names being used for the same registration numbers. It all pointed to organised piracy or smuggling of some kind. The Labyrinth was an ideal place for exchanging and distributing goods. Few people save the Nahabe asked too many questions out here, and the Nahabe only took much of an interest if you tried to interfere with their business. In a sense, he was hardly surprised. She always did have that danger-seeking streak in her. He could see how she could fall to the allure of a life on the edge of the law, or beyond it.

Stupid woman, he thought. Stupid, stupid woman. She was going to get herself killed. She never thought far enough ahead, always acting on impulse and never giving a shit about how much havoc she caused in the process. Did she think the Sirius Syndicate wouldn’t have come after her, just because she was part of some smuggling operation out here in the sticks? Not only that, but there were plenty of people out here who would kill you for the slightest insult, or for your ship, or your money, or just because they felt like it. If the authorities didn’t do for her, others in the shady world she’d chosen might.

He slammed the folder he was holding down on the hut’s small desk in frustration. Well fuck her, he thought. He was going to catch up with her, sort out this money business and then that would be the end of it.

Except that wouldn’t be the end of it. Because deep down he knew he still cared about her, and that was what made him so angry. A vision of Anita crossed his mind and he felt guilty for a moment, and then hated himself for feeling that way. Anna had left him. Well, she’d have to live with the consequences.

He started at the noise of the door being opened, jolting him from his angry contemplation. To his relief, he saw Shigs peering around its rusty frame.

‘I thought I might find you here,’ he said. ‘Anita said you’d headed off to the docks after you left her place, figured you’d be poking around this bay. I was kind of curious myself.’

‘You’ve never been down here?’

‘Not since Anna and her associates left, no. The truth is, I kind of wondered if anyone was watching the place. It seems not, though.’

‘Great

thanks. So I could have just walked in here and been busted.’

‘Nah, the Nahabe don’t give a shit. Some of Anna’s people might though. Find anything interesting?’

‘Only these repair records. She had a private navy coming and going from here huh?’

‘Yeah, all sorts of ships. She never did tell me where they were all coming and going to and from though, and I thought it best not to ask.’

‘Shigs,’ said Isaacs slowly. ‘I have to ask. Was it piracy she was into?’

‘Yeah, ‘fraid so.’

‘Shit.’

‘Hey, don’t worry too much. Anna can look after herself. You of all people ought to know that.’

‘Maybe. I dunno it’s just

’

‘I thought you were over her anyway. You seemed to be last night, eh?’ Shigs shot him a lascivious grin.

‘That was different. Anita’s a wonderful girl but, y’know.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

The two men were suddenly startled by the sound of a klaxon. Outside, revolving warning lights had activated around the perimeter of the ship lift. Above, a set of heavy pressure doors had begun to slide smoothly open.

‘Fucking hell, Shigs,’ Isaacs swore. ‘I thought you said that this bay wasn’t being used.’

‘It wasn’t,’ said Shigs over the sound of the klaxon and the noise of the hydraulics now raising the ship lift towards the gaping rectangular hole in the ceiling. The lift locked in place onto a set of rails inside the tunnel above with a series of metallic noises, before climbing out of sight behind the now closing pressure doors.

‘Shit, I take it we can’t leave?’ said Isaacs.

‘Yep, ‘fraid so,’ said Shigs sheepishly. ‘That airlock at the entrance can’t be opened until the lift comes back down, you oughta know that. Gotta preserve atmospheric integrity.’

‘Although we’d be fucked standing here if anything happened further up of course.’

‘Never happens, you know that. Besides, that ain’t what we got to worry about.’ Shigs indicated towards the closing pressure doors with a finger.

‘Well let’s hope they’re friendly.’

‘Fuck that, let’s hide in this shack. We can check ‘em out when their ship comes down. You got a gun?’

‘Nope.’

‘Ah

probably just as well. We might live longer if they see we’re unarmed.’

The two of them hunkered down behind the thin walls of the hut, and turned the lights off, allowing them to peer out through the windows without too much risk of being seen. They waited a few uncomfortable minutes for the lift to come back down with whoever had decided to use the bay at such an inopportune moment.

After a few minutes there was the sound of the pressure doors above opening and the hydraulics extending to grasp the descending lift platform. The platform now descended into view with a strange looking vessel upon it. The ship’s hull was composed of dark green-black plates. It lacked any visible external instruments, windows or markings. Its shape reminded Isaacs of a rather angular metal slug with its tail jutting into the air. It was a Nahabe ship.

‘Fuck,’ whispered Shigs. ‘Nahabe. What the fuck are they doing here?’

‘You tell me,’ Isaacs whispered back. ‘You’re the one who was here the whole time Anna was using this bay.’

‘Doesn’t look like a police ship

’

Isaacs shushed him. The boarding ramp of the Nahabe craft was sliding down from under its blunt prow. Shortly after, a number of the aliens floated out and across the floor of the bay inside their suits. Isaacs counted half a dozen of them inside various sizes and designs of suit. They left via the way that Isaacs had entered. He heard the airlock door clang shut behind them.

‘Now what?’ said Shigs.

‘How the hell should I know?’

‘Wanna go and take a look at that ship?’

‘Depends if anyone’s still on board. How many crew do those things have?’

‘Six at the most. Looks like they’ve shut it down too.’

‘Security systems?’

‘You’re not thinking of stealing it are you? They don’t take kindly to that sort of thing around here, you know. Could be very bad for your health, especially if they’ve tricked it out with auto-defences.’

‘No, I’m not thinking of stealing it. I’m more bothered about them seeing us snooping around in here.’

‘Probably too late for that. Anna had the whole placed wired I gather.’

‘Shit!’

‘I shouldn’t worry. You wanna take a look?’

Isaacs sighed. ‘Yeah why not,’ he said, picking himself off the floor and brushing his now dusty trousers.

The ship was slightly warm to the touch. It throbbed barely perceptibly beneath his palm, systems in standby mode. Other than that, there were no signs of life. It was apparently empty. Up close, Isaacs was again struck by how sophisticated the technology of the Nahabe was. The ship lacked any obvious signs of a Newtonian drive system such as exhaust nozzles. Presumably it moved via some sort of gravitic motor or via linear space-time distortion as Arkari vessels did. The surface of the hull appeared seamless, apart from the boarding ramp which fitted into the rest of the ship’s skin so cleanly that it was barely distinguishable from the rest of the hull. The hull itself was covered with strange whorls and mandalas apparently engraved on layers deep within the slightly translucent material. They seemed to shift as his eye moved across it, giving the odd looking vessel a strangely alien beauty.

‘Some ship, huh?’ said Shigs, eyeing the vessel. ‘Makes you wonder why we’re the bigger power. I reckon one of these Nahabe ships could take on several of ours any day.’

‘Maybe they just see things differently from us,’ Isaacs replied. ‘Different species have different priorities. Look at the Arkari, or the Esacir. Maybe the Nahabe just aren’t naturally expansionist.’

‘Yeah, I guess they must have their reasons.’

Isaacs patted the ship.

‘Well, there’s no way into this thing. You want to stick around until the owners get back?’

‘Uh, no. Not really,’ Shigs replied.

‘Hmm me neither. Besides, I have to look at Anna’s apartment. You wanna come? I’d like a bit of back-up in case anything happens.’

‘Jesus, you are getting paranoid.’ Shigs snorted. ‘You think that bunch who arrived on this crate could be waiting for you?’

‘I dunno, maybe. I get the impression I’m being watched or followed around this place.’

‘Alright, sure. Come on, let’s get out of here,’ said Shigs and headed for the exit.

It took a short while for the two of them to make their way across the Labyrinth to the apartment complex. Isaacs kept an eye out for any suspicious looking Nahabe, but failed to spot any. They finally arrived at Anna’s door inside the dingy, creaking habitation module. Shigs cast a critical eye around him.

‘Hmph,’ he snorted. ‘I kind of expected Anna to live in somewhere a bit more up market than this, given the amount of cash she was throwing around. What the hell is that smell?’

‘Don’t ask. I guess she wanted to keep a low profile.’

‘Yeah well, it doesn’t get much lower.’

Isaacs produced the key card from his wallet and ran it through the door’s reader. There was beep and the sound of a mechanical bolt sliding back. Isaacs pushed the door open and stepped cautiously inside. Shigs brought up the rear and closed the door as soon as Isaacs had located the light switch.

The pale illumination provided by the room’s sparse lights revealed a small, tidy and unremarkable apartment suite, devoid of any possessions save for the faded furniture it no doubt came with as standard. There was a right angle of a sofa and two chairs facing an outdated screen in one corner, and a small kitchen, bathroom and bedroom leading off from the main lounge area.

‘Looks like it’s empty, man,’ said Shigs from the kitchen, where he was busy investigating the insides of the cupboards. ‘The place has been stripped bare.’

Isaacs grunted a response and activated the screen, flicking through a few entertainment channels of both human and alien origin. He caught a news snippet about the ongoing political scandal over bribes paid to ministers for reconstruction contracts in the liberated systems before turning it off.

‘Fucking Rheinhold,’ said Shigs. ‘I never voted for that son of a bitch once and the bastard’s still in office. Lot of people are pissed off with him now though, what with the war and all of these corruption rumours flying around. I think he could be out come the next election.’

Isaacs wasn’t really listening to him. What the hell did Anna mean by leaving him the key to an empty apartment? She didn’t expect he’d want to live here did she? He wandered through into the bedroom. It too had been stripped bare. The sagging mattress lay naked, devoid of any covers. The wardrobes too were empty. Isaacs went to the bed-side table and opened the drawer, and found an envelope inside. His name was written on the back in Anna’s handwriting.

He shook it. There was a slim object inside. He tore open the envelope and found a standard data wafer within. Holding it between thumb and forefinger he walked back into the lounge.

‘Found something,’ he said.

‘Mmm

’ Shigs replied, engrossed in the pornography he had managed to find on the room’s screen.

‘Jesus, Shigs. Bit early for that isn’t it? Hey! I said I found something.’

‘What?’ Shigs asked, finally registering his presence.

‘Data wafer of some kind. Must be a message I guess. Hey, turn that off I need to use the screen,’ he said and grabbed the control wand from Shigs who made a mock show of protest when Isaacs turned off the images of writhing female flesh. Isaacs switched the screen to terminal mode then inserted the slim wafer into the appropriate slot at the base of the device. The face of his wife appeared on the screen. She was in this room, talking to the camera mounted in the screen’s frame. Seeing her face after all this time stirred up quite a few feelings he had thought buried.

She looked a little different than the last time he had seen her. Her hair was shorter and she seemed to have lost some weight from how he remembered her. Damn it, she looked good, he had to admit. Those large dark eyes of hers still had a certain effect on him.

‘Cal, if you’re watching this, then you’re obviously trying to track me down.’

‘Well fucking hell, are you surprised?!’ Isaacs shouted at the screen.

‘Presumably if you’ve been talking to Shigs you’ve heard a little about what I’m involved in. It’s true that I’ve become a pirate, but there’s more to it than that

’ she averted her eyes from the camera, looking sideways and down at the floor, the angle highlighting her long nose and sharp cheekbones. ‘The reason I left you

I know you think I just ran away, but I’m sorry I just couldn’t take it anymore. I hated seeing you destroy yourself because of what happened to you. You wouldn’t let me help you, and I couldn’t just stick around and watch you put yourself in harm’s way again and again.’ She looked back at the screen again, her eyes blazing. ‘Cal, I think I can help you. I’ve found an answer to what you’ve been seeking all these years. I’m afraid to say it out loud, in case others find this recording, but you must come and meet me and my associates. Come to the Hadar system. My people at the Barstow station around the moon of Rhyolite have been briefed to keep an eye out for your ship. Please Cal, please let me help you this once. You know I still care about you.’ She looked away from the screen again; lip trembling, then the recording ended.

Isaacs looked at Shigs, who looked back at him in puzzlement.

‘Where the fuck is Hadar?’ he said.

‘Out in the fucking sticks is where,’ Isaacs replied. ‘It’s even further out than this place. Must be a good hundred and fifty light years or so away from here.’

‘What do you think she’s doing all the way down there?’

‘Beats me, I’m gonna go find out though.’

‘I thought you might. Man, Hadar, eh? Well I’d love to come with you, but you know, I have a bar to run and

’

‘Hey, it’s alright. Look I need someone who knows where I’ve gone. In case

’

‘In case anything should happen to you.’

‘Something like that. Look Shigs, if Anna’s right about finding those answers for me. I don’t know what might happen.’

Later that day, the Profit Margin slipped quietly out of its berth in the Labyrinth, moved smoothly through the complex lines of traffic surrounding the esoteric collection of rocks and modules and jumped in a direction that would take it to the far south west along the plane of the galaxy. It was not followed. Only one person watched it leave, but Laurence’s cold dead eyes did not register what they saw any more. The gangster’s frozen body, riven in a dozen places by laser burns and stab wounds tumbled slowly in the microgravity of the Labyrinth. Until it was seen from a viewport by an unfortunate resident or found frozen rock hard by maintenance crews it would remain here in the silent vacuum, by which time his attackers would be long gone.

Isaacs, unaware of the violent acts committed by his unknown guardians, stretched in his command couch, unbuckled himself from the safety harness and checked that the ship’s systems were in order, before making his way aft to fix himself a coffee.

He had bade Shigs a fond farewell and had a last drink at the Watering Hole, before making his way back to his ship via an even more circuitous route than was necessary, all the while checking to make sure he was not being followed, then he had launched the Profit Margin during a busy period of the day when it was most likely to go unnoticed amidst the swarms of other vessels.

What the hell had Anna meant by saying that she’d found an answer to the questions that had preyed on his mind for so long? The nightmares, the depression and the survivor’s guilt had grown over the years until they had almost consumed him, but not before they had destroyed his relationship with her. She knew him all too well. He had been pushing himself ever harder, accepting ever more dangerous assignments, picking fights he knew he couldn’t win. Perhaps a part of him wanted to die out here, alone in the cold empty blackness and put an end to it all once and for all.

He swirled the murky dregs of his coffee and wondered.

‘Hey,’ said a cheerful female voice.

Isaacs almost dropped his mug with shock and whirled to face the figure standing in the doorway behind him. His first instinct was that he was about to be hijacked. He’d heard plenty of stories about careless captains who’d jumped, only to have their ship taken over by gangs of stowaways.

It was not to be. Anita stood before him, arms folded under her t-shirted bosom, regarding him with a casual smile.

‘Thought I’d hitch a ride, hope you don’t mind Cal.’

‘The fuck

? How the fuck did you get on my ship!?’

‘It was unlocked, well okay it wasn’t locked properly,’ she replied. ‘I checked the dock logs and found your ship. I figured I wanted out of the system and you were as good as any.’

‘Anita

’ he began. ‘Do you even know where I’m headed?’

‘No,’ she responded. ‘But I reckoned that one system was as good as another. Where are you going?’

‘Hadar.’

‘Oh, right. Frontier mining system, yeah?’

‘Something like that. Look Anita, I’m going to track down my wife, she could be in a lot of danger and I don’t think she’ll appreciate, well

‘

‘I thought you were separated.’

‘Yes, well

’

‘You’re thinking of getting back with her?’

‘I don’t know, look, this isn’t what this is about. This isn’t a fucking sight-seeing trip you know. Things could get a little hairy.’

‘I can handle myself. You should see where I grew up. You never know, maybe I could come in useful.’ She moved across the galley and looked at him hopefully.

Isaacs sighed.

‘Alright, have it your way. The ship’s locked into its jump now, so there’s not much I can do about it anyway. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘Okay, great. So, how long until we get to Hadar?’

‘About a fortnight.’

She moved a little closer to him, until they were touching. He felt her hand on his arm.

‘A fortnight, huh?’ she said. ‘I hope we don’t get bored.’

He burst out laughing.

Chapter 11

Mentith stood in the viewing gallery, looking down on the lab below. The containment unit with the body of the former Lord Steelscale and its inhabitant lay bathed in bright light. Arkari technicians moved among the various workstations and equipment arrays; checking, scanning, probing. It was a form of interrogation. If they could only pry open the secrets held within that cold alien intelligence… Unfortunately, the creature of the Shapers had remained silent since it had taunted Admiral Chen. It lay in its gory nest in silence, watching them, studying its captors. Mentith had doubled the security measures around the thing just in case.

The door behind him opened, admitting a tall, grizzled human male.

‘War Marshall,’ said the man, in a gravelly voice. ‘It’s been a while. Good to see you again.’

Mentith turned to face the craggy features of Fleet Admiral George Haines, supreme commander of Commonwealth forces during the war against the K’Soth, and now head of the peace keeping operations in the liberated territories. He and Mentith were very much alike. Both of them were born for war, although Haines had seen action rather more close up than his Arkari counterpart, having lost an eye to a K’Soth warrior whilst repelling a boarding action over fifty years previously. He had refused a replacement, wearing his ravaged face like a battle honour.

His legendary status amongst the men and women of the Commonwealth military had only grown since the outbreak of the more recent conflict and the Commonwealth’s rapid victory over the K’Soth. Haines’s lifespan had been extended by genetic treatments and some half-joked that he was indestructible. Given the fact that his ship the Abraham Lincoln was almost always in the thickest of the fighting and that he was still alive after all this time, some were starting to believe it.

‘It’s been too long, Admiral,’ Mentith replied. ‘How goes the peace keeping?’

‘Like hell,’ snorted Haines. ‘God damn it, the Empire collapses and all its former oppressed subjects can do is settle old scores that they’ve been bottling up since they got conquered.’

‘Hmm, it seems that little ever changes.’

‘Most days I have half a dozen representatives – half of them self appointed - bickering in my office about stuff neither I, nor anyone else for that matter, has a clue about. Most of the time I feel like wringing their god damn necks, or whatever they have. Short sighted idiots mostly, always looking out for number one and screw everybody else.’

‘I gather that some of the planets you liberated have even devolved back into nation states again.’

‘Depressing isn’t it? I’ve tried getting help from back home, but the government’s only interested in the commercial side of things as usual. Corporations have bought half of Parliament. I’m a soldier, not a diplomat, but the situation’s so volatile that there needs to be someone out there with his finger on the trigger just to maintain the semblance of some sort of order and keep our supply lines open. We must be involved with or trying to prevent about a hundred civil wars right now, from tribal level right up to interstellar.’

‘It’s that serious?’

‘You’re damn right it is. On one hand I’ve got one set of guys with swords trying to conquer another set with different coloured scales, on the other I’ve got two planets pointing strategic weapons at one another that they liberated from the K’Soth. Ah, listen to me.’ Haines laughed bitterly. ‘You invite me here and all I do is lay my troubles on your shoulders. This Dyson sphere you’ve found here, Mentith, is very impressive. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. The level of technology the Progenitors possessed never ceases to amaze me. I thought the portal device at Maranos was incredible, but this

how can a race have the power build such things and yet be defeated?’

‘Defeated by the very same enemy we face now,’ said Mentith darkly. ‘The Progenitor’s empire was eaten away from within like a body riddled with cancers.’

‘We are sure of that, aren’t we?’

‘Yes. From what we’ve uncovered so far it seems that this Dyson sphere acted as a staging post of some kind during the war that tore the Progenitor’s empire apart. From what we can tell from the evidence that we’ve gathered so far, it seems that a political movement backed or manipulated by the Shapers were behind the initial rebellion rather than there being any sort of general disorder resulting from misrule. From the tone and content of the accounts that we’ve retrieved so far, it seems that they had a definite agenda to usurp the existing order and seize power for themselves, rather than merely achieve liberation. This was aided by what we believe was the deliberate release of an engineered virus into the general Progenitor population.

In addition to this, some of the medical reports describe creatures similar to the ones we’ve found inside the brain cavities of key individuals. Presumably the technology the Shapers now possess is far more sophisticated than that which they employed five billion years ago. Despite their apparent periods of dormancy, their modus operandi remains the same.’

‘You did say we had a lot to talk about,’ Haines commented.

‘We certainly do,’ Mentith replied, indicating with a nod to the lab below. Haines peered down at the containment unit.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asked. ‘Our honoured guest?’

‘The very same.’

Haines seemed to visibly shudder. ‘That thing down there, it’s an abomination against everything we’ve striven to build; an offence to your people and mine. If I were a religious man I’d say that thing came straight from hell.’

‘You may not be far wrong. From what we know, the domain of the Shapers is more akin to the abyss than even the most fevered imaginings of the insane. Admiral, our scouts have returned.’

‘Alive and uninfected?’

‘A few, yes.’

‘How many, Irakun?’

Mentith looked downcast. ‘Less than ten per cent. Some others made it back but it became clear that they were hosts for those creatures. We attempted to place several in stasis like our friend down there, but all self-terminated once they were restrained.’

‘I guess the K’Soth can beat us at something,’ Haines mused ruefully. ‘I wonder how they managed to catch that one?’

‘The survivors have brought us grave news indeed: the Shapers are moving much more quickly than we anticipated. The presence of their agents within the K’Soth Empire is evidence of that, and perhaps they have extended their reach elsewhere also. Our agents reported seeing massive levels of activity in hundreds of core systems. Ship construction programs on a scale even the Arkari yards can only dream about. It seems that the Shapers and their servant races have harnessed the power of the black hole at the centre of this galaxy to power their war effort. They are gearing up for a massive offensive. The hammer blow may come soon.’

‘I’ll start putting together a defensive plan, for what good it will do us,’ said Haines. ‘Give me all the intelligence data you have, I’ll need to brief the Joint Chiefs and the President. I trust you have briefed SOC.’

‘I have, and the data is yours,’ Mentith replied. ‘However I would surmise, given the methods employed against the K’Soth, that the initial strike will come from within, rather than without. The K’Soth were easy for your forces to defeat because their Empire had already been eaten away from within. We must not let the same thing happen to us.’

Haines nodded in agreement. ‘That had occurred to me too. The trouble is; who can we trust? Those things could have infected our own people, just like they did the K’Soth. Any plans we make will have to be kept from all but a few of our most trusted people. People we know intimately. I hasten to add that I will envisage strategies that involve fighting our own people under the sway of these things. I suggest you do the same.’

‘Of course. I plan to meet in person with a number of the other Meritarchs that I can trust, including my superior. Fleet Meritarch Beklide is most anxious to begin moving our people towards a war footing.’

‘We must move quietly, subtly. We cannot afford to let the Shapers see what we’re up to,’ said Haines.

‘Agreed. There is more however. Our scouts confirmed what we had long suspected, that the Shapers have at last found unity. Whether any of them can truly be considered individuals or whether each tendency merely represents a different hive mind we do not know, but we do know that for millennia they fought - their own greed and lust for power pitting them against one another, their numbers dwindling until they became reliant on subject races. These are the less advanced civilisations towards the galactic core that they brought under their thrall. Many of them worship the Shapers as gods, whilst the Shapers twist and pervert their subjects in turn. The Shapers view these enslaved peoples more as raw resources for their war machine, rather than as loyal subjects.

Now, it seems, something or someone has united them. Whether through leadership, force, fear or subterfuge, it has caused the Shapers to act as one. Their gaze has turned outward, towards the systems of the spiral arms, zones teeming with resources both mineral and biological and innocent, pliant minds.’

‘Then we’d better make sure we’re ready for them, hadn’t we?’ Haines replied. ‘I’ve never lost a war yet and I don’t intend to change my habits. These subject races you spoke of may be less technologically advanced than their masters.’

‘Let us hope so, though they appear to be very numerous. What our scouts have witnessed made it clear that if the Shapers were to win, then the humans, Arkari and other races in this part of the galaxy would cease to exist in any true sense that we would recognise. The Shapers have acquired their name for a reason. They not only shape societies and peoples through their machinations, but they directly remodel life itself through biological tinkering and more brutal forms of augmentation and cybernetic integration. When I told you that some of our scouts survived, I neglected to point out that although a number had come back alive, many of them were in a state of near nervous collapse caused by what they witnessed.’

Haines shook his head and grimaced.

‘One gave a ragged account of an entire world turned into a great charnel house, a production line where innocent victims were dissected alive, their limbs, organs, cells and very minds used in vile, twisted creations of flesh and metal. Another merely screamed himself hoarse when we asked him about his experiences. We attempted to neural scan him, but the memories we recovered were so incoherent that they were of little use. Whether he will ever recover we can only guess.’

Haines’s face darkened. ‘Irakun I saw a few things during my career that keep me awake at night, things I never discuss with anyone

but if what you say is true.’

‘It is, unfortunately.’

‘Then I’d rather see humanity extinguished than become the tools of those creatures. I, for one, would not go down without a fight.’

‘And I am willing to fight at your side, my friend,’ said Mentith, laying a comradely hand upon Haines’s broad, epauletted shoulder. ‘We must plan for any attempt to destabilise our civilisations, through rebellion, plague, invasion or other means. Tell only those that you trust implicitly.’

‘I’m glad that you managed to get Admiral Chen up to speed. She would be my first choice for a leading role in frontline operations in the event of a crisis.’

‘She has gained quite a reputation since the war.’

‘A reputation she earned the hard way, let me tell you. Chen has guts as well as tactical skill. I had hoped that she would still be here when I arrived.’

‘Yes, unfortunately I was forced to dispatch her on a mission of some urgency. We may have inadvertently overlooked a lead in our efforts against the Shapers. Admiral Chen is hoping to rectify this error.’

‘I see, and where is she now?’

‘Allow me to explain. Chen and a number of other SOC commanders have been pursuing a policy of utilising freelancers for missions which do not directly involve nor require any knowledge of the threat we face. These freelancers were subject to extensive background checks and surveillance before being approached and have been employed in situations where the presence of military craft or personnel would pose a problem.’

‘Yes, I’m aware of this.’

‘Chen employed a man by the name of Caleb Isaacs, a former Navy bomber pilot with a somewhat chequered history, who apparently abandoned what seemed to be a promising military career to pursue the shady existence he now leads. He completed the mission assigned to him, which incidentally resulted in the acquisition of the subject you see in the lab. However when Chen asked him about his military career in conversation he became rather agitated and mentioned my people as being the only ones who knew the truth about what had happened to him.’

‘And?’

‘It turns out that approximately fifteen of your years ago, Isaacs was the only survivor rescued from a mysterious alien vessel by an Arkari destroyer, the Star Ascendant. His flight had been reported missing in Commonwealth frontier space by the carrier Saipan almost a day before, however he was found within Arkari space. He was returned to the Commonwealth, but despite receiving treatment for the post traumatic stress disorder he was evidently suffering from, he resigned his commission.’

‘Why was none of this picked up by Chen’s people before?

‘Because,’ said Mentith. ‘The file had recently been reclassified to a higher clearance level following the realisation that the ship in question was in fact a vessel belonging to the Shapers. At the time it was simply logged as ‘unknown alien craft’ by the crew of the Star Ascendant, but our recent intelligence gathering efforts have given us clues as to what some Shaper craft look like and the status of the file was changed. Isaacs simply slipped through the net I’m afraid and it seems that the Navy failed him, to some extent.’

‘My god

I’ll have our people go through the Navy’s records. We’ll see if anything in our archives matches this incident. If the Shapers sent one ship, they sure as hell could have sent more in the last fifteen years. This Isaacs guy, do we knows if he’s one of them?’

‘Apparently he is not. He was scanned when he came aboard the Churchill and registered as a negative. Isaacs himself seems quite loyal to the Commonwealth, despite his misgivings about the military.’

‘We need to track him down, get as much information from him as we can. Anything that he can tell us about the encounter would be of help.’

‘Chen has undertaken this task. She has the resources of the Churchill and her crew at her disposal. He should not be too hard to find, I hope.’

‘Perhaps he can tell us what the Shapers were up to.’

‘Oh, I’m afraid we already know that

his squad-mates were found dissected in the ship’s lab. Some of them were still alive, after a fashion, but the unfortunate individuals, or what was left of them, died soon after in the Star Ascendant’s medical bay. It seems that the vessel was on an intelligence gathering mission. Doubtless they found out much about human physiology and biology from those poor individuals, and the file also says that he saw the occupants of the vessel attempting to implant parasitic creatures into the skulls of his comrades.’

‘Jesus,’ Haines grunted. ‘This could provide vital clues as to how they manage to spread their agents among us. They can be beaten in a straight fight?’

‘Yes. Although it seems that this particular ship was not built for combat, rather it appears to have been a scout of some kind. Even so it put up quite a fight and would have slipped away had the Star Ascendant not disrupted its attempt to utilise its own peculiar version of jump drive technology. The Shapers can move between dimensions rather more smoothly than we can. There was even some suggestion from the sensor record that they can exist in more than one dimension simultaneously, although how and why we have not yet managed to ascertain.’

‘It must give them an edge, allowing them to slip in and out of combat, lurking in one dimension with their sensors in another like a submarine poking its periscope above water.’

‘Yes. If I’m following the analogy correctly, that was our assessment also.’

‘Give me all the data you have. I’ll pass it on to people I can trust and we’ll begin running combat simulations. We have to be ready for these sons of bitches once they do decide to come knocking.’

Mentith nodded slowly in agreement.

‘One other thing, Admiral. I have certain concerns about certain Navy operations currently underway in the Hadar system.’

‘Oh? I wasn’t aware of anything unusual happening down there other than a bit of local pirate trouble in the cluster.’

‘One of your colleagues, a man by the name of Admiral Cox, claims to have found a very ancient star-ship on the surface of one the system’s volcanic moons. There something about the whole thing that troubles me. Naturally I have sent my very best to investigate.’

Chapter 12

Beyond the bridge windows, the lush moon of Orinoco revolved slowly, half lit against the backdrop of stars and the bilious bloated orb of the gas giant, Tethys. The lights and reflected glints of Orinoco station and the traffic milling around it glittered faintly against the moon’s night-side.

Chen brooded as she pondered the scene. It had been several hours since she had discreetly despatched the team of operatives down to the planet and so far they had not been in touch. All that time the Churchill had lurked here, just off the shipping lanes in high orbit, waiting for a clue as to the location of their quarry.

She cursed silently. Isaacs had slipped under their radar because of a filing inconsistency of all things! Commonwealth archives had contained little except the bare facts about his military record and the fact that he had been rescued by the Arkari from an unknown alien vessel, with a following description from the Arkari ship. The records relating to the alien ship hadn’t been accessed for over a decade. When querying the Arkari records she had found that the details were highly classified with only War Marshal Mentith and Fleet Meritarch Beklide being granted access. Later, when she’d spoken to Mentith he hadn’t even realised that the record existed; it had simply been swept into a vast data store with thousands of other records that may or may not pertain to Shaper activity, awaiting analysis. He had been rather angry about the whole affair, she recalled, though more at himself and his intelligence experts than anything.

A fucking filing error! Of all the things

Still, at least Isaacs appeared to have survived his ordeal without being made a host for one of those things. However, she needed to make sure and she needed to talk to him. She had to know what he had seen aboard that ship.

Chen knew she had to find him quickly, but the galaxy was a big place to lose someone in, particularly if they didn’t want to be found. They’d tried the same network of contacts that had been used to hire Isaacs in the first place, but he hadn’t been seen since taking the mission. She had decided to pick up the trail where they’d left him, here in the Achernar system.

‘Admiral, there’s a communication from the team coming through,’ said Ensign Andrews at the comm. station.

‘Put it through,’ Chen replied impatiently. Had they found something, she wondered?

There was no image, only the voice of the team leader buzzing in her earpiece, his voice a little hard to make out against what sounded like the background noise of a busy office.

‘Commander Blackman here Admiral, we’re at the Bolivar Police headquarters at the moment. We’ve had a lead of sorts. We pulled all city security records from the date we dropped off Isaacs and his ship until today. We ran his name and appearance into a search engine and succeeded in tracking his movements after he landed. It turns out that he wasn’t here long.’

‘Interesting. Could he have found another job perhaps?’

‘We’re not sure. The city security network filmed Isaacs walking from the spaceport across town to an alley in one of the older districts. There was no record of what he did in the alley, since the net doesn’t extend there, but we did find that it contains a bar by the name of Mulligan’s. A few hours later he was again filmed leaving the alley, with another man that we haven’t identified yet. Both men got into a ground car and made their way to a building in the San Cristobel Boulevard, one of the more fashionable areas of town. The local police managed to obtain the building’s own security records for us. Isaacs and the other man made their way up to the thirtieth floor of the building and entered an office rented by a front company believed by the Bolivar City police to belonging to the Sirius Syndicate.’

‘Shit,’ Chen swore. ‘Isaacs is mixed up with gangsters? I take it we don’t have anything from inside the office itself?’

‘I’m afraid not. Isaacs didn’t stay long though. He left looking decidedly angry and returned to his ship almost immediately. He stayed there until the repairs that we paid for were complete and then he left the system. The destination he logged doesn’t correspond to the trajectory taken by his ship as he jumped. It looks like we lost him.’

‘Alright, thank you Captain,’ said Chen. ‘Good work. I think we’ll pay the Sirius Syndicate a little visit. I’m intrigued to know what our friend Mr Isaacs was doing associating with them, especially since our background check indicated nothing of the kind. Continue your investigations, Chen out.’

She cut the link and swore again under her breath. So much for their information on Isaacs, this was turning into one almighty fuck up, and she’d have to take responsibility for that. But first, there was more immediate business to attend to. She’d see to this one personally.

Bennett stood at the window of his office, looking out over the glittering night-time lights of Bolivar City. Tethys dominated the sky, hanging heavy behind the scattering of clouds. Everything he saw below him was his, not in any formally recognised sense of course, but he owned it just the same. He had but to pull the strings of his web from here and his will was answered. Local officials were bought off or coerced, businesses bribed or blackmailed, and the police were in the palm of his hand. There were enough bent cops on the Syndicate’s payroll to keep him informed and to make sure a blind eye was always turned to his activities. It was they who had let it be known that the military were sniffing around the city, poking their noses dangerously close to several of his more

interesting business concerns. Rumour had it that they were interested in Isaacs. Had that worthless little fuck tipped somebody off? Maybe Laurence had screwed up. Bennett hadn’t heard from him in some time. It was starting to worry him.

He didn’t like it. His clients definitely wouldn’t like it. There had been very specific instructions to avoid military entanglements. Maybe he was being paranoid. Perhaps it was merely a coincidence that his businesses had been touched upon by an unrelated investigation? All sorts of dodgy dealings went on in Bolivar City, and not even Bennett knew about all of them. But then again, paranoia was a healthy condition to have in his position - it had ensured his survival so far and he saw no reason to give it up.

There was a flare of light on the horizon as another ship lifted off from the spaceport. Bennett watched it climb until became too faint to follow.

In the street outside a small, dark haired woman stepped out of an unmarked AG skimmer and walked into the building’s entrance, her long coat swishing behind her in the warm breeze. A security guard at the desk in the atrium inside attempted to check her progress, but swiftly fell silent when he saw the team of local police and a squad of heavily armed Special Ops troops swarm into the building behind her. As the woman reached the lift and pressed the call button, the police took up positions in the brightly lit space, whilst the soldiers made for the emergency stairs, their gear rattling as they scurried towards them.

A police captain stepped up to the desk, flashed his ident card at the bewildered security guard and instructed him to shut down the building’s security systems.

Bennett heard something: the sound of raised voices from the reception area outside his office. He walked over to his desk terminal and opened the intercom to listen, using his other hand to slide open a desk drawer and grab the heavy laser pistol inside as he listened to Rachel arguing with an another person: a woman’s voice. She had an officious tone and was demanding entry. A fucking cop, no doubt. She sounded like a cop, with that sarcastic tone. This ought to be good. She must be a new one, one he hadn’t bought off yet. He checked the video feed and saw a small woman with collar length dark hair, dressed in a long coat, arguing with his receptionist.

She was either stupid or suicidal if she thought she could barge in here. He tried the video feeds from the building’s security network and found himself locked out. This was not so good. He needed to remain calm. He sat in the padded chair behind his desk and tried to look as relaxed as possible, placing the gun back in the drawer – but leaving the drawer open and the gun within reach.

The door was shoved open and the woman strode in. Rachel, his receptionist, followed in her wake protesting loudly, then apologised to Bennett as the woman marched over to his desk and stopped. Bennett quieted Rachel with what he hoped was a casual wave of his hand, then shooed her away. He composed his finely sculpted features and gave the woman a casual smile. She was quite pretty, he thought. He’d always had a thing for oriental chicks. It was a shame he might have to kill her.

‘And what may I do for you tonight, officer

’

‘Admiral Michelle Chen, if you please,’ she answered coldly.

Bennett felt his heart sink. Shit. The rumours had been true after all. She was military.

‘I represent the Navy’s Special Operations Command. We’re currently conducting investigations into the whereabouts of a freighter captain that we’re interested in and you are going to tell me everything I need to know.’

Bennett disliked people barking orders at him. It was not an experience he was used to.

‘Special Operations Command? I haven’t heard of that one,’ he snorted.

‘No. I don’t suppose you have,’ she said in a matter of fact manner.

His current clients had been exceptionally insistent that all military entanglements be avoided until the Isaacs assignment was complete. They had been quite explicit about the important of this.

He had to get this woman out of his office somehow.

‘Now listen here,’ he snapped. ‘Unless you have a warrant or something you can just go and fuck yourself. You don’t have any authority here.’

‘Oh I assure you, I do have the authority to arrest you if you obstruct my investigations. Warrant or no, our jurisdiction extends across the Commonwealth and beyond. Liaising with the local authorities was just a matter of courtesy.’

He swivelled his chair so that he could better reach the gun without making it so obvious. He tried to look unruffled, but felt himself sweating.

‘Admiral

listen. I don’t think you understand the situation,’ he said in a patronising tone. ‘You see, it isn’t those petty little bureaucrats down town who run Bolivar City, it’s me. See? So why don’t you get the fuck out of my building and out of my city, or you’ll never leave here in one piece. Is that clear enough for you? I’ve never heard of this guy anyway, so get lost.’

‘I never mentioned his name.’

Bennett cursed inwardly at his slip-up.

‘Yeah? So fucking what?’ he snarled. ‘You think I give a shit?’

The door behind Chen banged open and four of Bennett’s thugs charged through it, pistols already gripped in their meaty hands.

‘I think it’s time we cut our meeting short Admiral, don’t you?’ he sneered, grabbed the pistol from its drawer and fired.

The laser reflected off an invisible energy field inches from Chen’s skull and burned a hole in the ceiling.

Bennett gaped in amazement. Fucking hell, he thought. She was carrying Arkari tech.

‘Wrong move Mr Bennett,’ said Chen calmly, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile.

Bennett saw the door behind his men burst open and a squad of black-clad Special Forces troops threw themselves through it. One of his men took a shot at the first man through the door, missed and was cut down with swift return fire. The other three had the good sense to throw down their weapons and put their hands up.

Bennett screamed something incoherent and attempted to fire at Chen again with similar results. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair! She stood smirking at him, then drew a long barrelled automatic pistol from the pocket of her coat, flicked the safety off and pointed it at his head as the squad commander reached her side.

‘I think it’s time we had a little chat, don’t you Mr Bennett?’ Chen said and arched one eyebrow. He looked up at her and seemed to her to be at the point of trying to say something.

Suddenly there was sharp crack. Bennett’s head burst open, showering Chen with blood. Gurgling, his eyes transfixed with shock, he fell forwards onto the soft carpet. Chen looked immediately to the window behind Bennett. A small hole less than a couple of centimetres across had appeared in the glass at the centre of a star pattern of cracks. The Special Ops commandos were already moving into firing positions. The team’s sniper had brought his rifle up, and balancing it on the balcony rail, was training it at another skyscraper almost half a kilometre distant.

But their quarry had already gone.

Her office was silent save for the soft humming softly of the ship’s systems as Chen sat and contemplated failure. Twenty decks down in the Churchill’s secure lab, Mr Bennett’s corpse was being held under very tight supervision.

It was just as well that she’d had the presence of mind to activate that Arkari personal shield, she pondered grimly. Otherwise Bennett and his thugs really could have killed her there and then. On reflection, her decision to confront him herself was foolish, but she hadn’t really expected him to react so suddenly and so violently. The commandos had been waiting in the building’s emergency stairwell as backup, and had swung into action as soon as she’d mashed the button on the emergency beacon in her coat pocket. But still, it had been a stupid risk. If they’d had EMP weapons the shield wouldn’t have been much use. The medic on the scene had been unable to save Bennett’s life. The bullet had entered the back of his skull and had blown most of his brains out of the front.

Chen knew that the Syndicate and its members, despite their nefarious activities, tended to avoid conflict with the authorities if they could help it. It was too conspicuous, bad for business, and tended to bring swift vengeance down upon their operations. It puzzled her as to why Bennett had been so swift to turn on her. It had seemed to Chen that Bennett had been terrified by her presence. He’d obviously panicked as soon as she’d entered the room. The file on Bennett had revealed much about his vicious character, but he was not known for irrational or sudden violence. He was more the cold, methodical type. His behaviour had been grossly out of character, but the autopsy on his body had found no signs of Shaper infection. She needed to find out why. She needed to salvage something from what was fast becoming a catalogue of disasters.

The local police had scrambled squads and set up road blocks in an attempt to catch Bennett’s assassin, but they had been unsuccessful, although a high powered rail rifle had been found on the roof of the nearby skyscraper. Sadly, it had been found to be clean of any prints or DNA evidence. The identity of Bennett’s assassin, as well as the motivation for his odd behaviour remained a mystery. A number of Syndicate members had been arrested in the building and operations were currently underway to bring a number of others in for questioning, but so far no-one was talking. The Syndicate’s power structure in the system had currently been thrown off balance, but Bennett would no-doubt be replaced sooner or later. As an organisation it was depressingly resilient to disaster.

Chen needed a lead of some kind. There was some kind of link between Isaacs and the Syndicate, but what? The trail had gone cold, though the mere fact that someone was prepared to kill to prevent her establishing what the link was between them troubled her. There was something else going on here, but there was nothing they could do until Isaacs turned up somewhere, if he turned up alive at all. She had sent an update to Mentith regarding their progress, or rather their lack of it.

Chen had hoped to catch the Profit Margin in the system and use the Churchill’s speed to their advantage, but it wasn’t to be. She’d clearly misjudged the situation and now their only lead was dead. Defeat rankled with her, but there was little she could now. She would file what they knew and hoped others would have more luck than she and her crew had. She hoped Haines wasn’t about to chastise her too heavily.

‘Admiral,’ said the voice of her second in command over the ship’s comm. system. ‘We have some information I think you should see.’

Her first officer, Commander Haldane was currently on watch. Haldane had been chosen by her personally, as had the rest of the senior officers and bridge crew, some of whom she had transferred from the survivors of the Mark Antony, her previous command. Haldane’s record was impeccable and he was tipped for a command of his own some day, despite his relatively young age. In many ways he reminded her of her younger self: aggressive, ambitious and career minded. There was something about him though. On a personal level she didn’t exactly see eye to eye with Haldane. There was a certain arrogance and lack of creativity to his thinking. She had wondered if she was being unfair, resenting him because of his youth, his drive and ambition, and because he wasn’t Al Ramirez.

That had been another mistake; to fall for someone she was serving with, a subordinate. It could have cost her her career, and Al’s death on Maranos had affected her deeply, perhaps irrevocably. In many ways she had no regrets about their relationship, but she felt empty now, dead inside. Something within her had died that day along with his passion and vitality. The Shapers, ultimately, had caused his death, by unleashing those horrors through the Maranos portal. She would make sure that they paid for that and for what they had tried to make her do.

‘Put it through to my desk,’ she said to Haldane smartly.

‘Very good Admiral,’ Haldane replied.

A second later and a window of text blinked into existence in front of her. It was a docking bay record from a Nahabe run trading station in the Quralish system on the borders of Commonwealth space. The record listed the ship, along with its image, registration, time of arrival and departure, captain, passengers and name. The ship’s final destination was not listed however. It was Isaacs’ ship, the Profit Margin. Chen felt a sense of elation.

‘Where did this come from Commander?’ she asked.

‘Intel put out a search request for Isaacs and queried all docking records within his possible sphere of travel. We got lucky. Normally the Nahabe wouldn’t have come under this search, being a separate sovereign power, but the station is a conglomerate of modules run by various powers but under the aegis of the Nahabe. All Commonwealth dock records are therefore submitted to us.’

‘We were fortunate. Any further and he’d have slipped out of our grasp.’

‘We certainly did ma’am. Shall I order the ship to Quralish?’

‘At once, Commander. Recall all craft and personnel and proceed at best speed. Signal our intention to Command. I intend to find out what our Mr Isaacs has gotten himself into.’

Chen pondered the image of the Profit Margin, at once feeling elation at the lucky break they had been given, and puzzlement as to what Isaacs could be doing so far out. Was he simply following some money trail all the way out there? It was possible; he was a freelance trader after all. The problem remained of course that they would need to find out where he had gone next, but with the Churchill’s speed they shouldn’t be too far behind. This dock record was less than a day old. They could be there in three and half days. She waited impatiently for the ship to get underway.

Chapter 13

Despite the arrival of morning, the sky was dark when the crawler crested the ridge of low hills and started down the shallow incline to the black plain below. On the distant horizon, pillars of smoke and ash rose from a cluster of volcanoes, filling the sky with choking, leaden clouds that blotted out the harsh light of the suns. Occasional rays of feeble light stabbed down through the clouds like searchlights, contrasting with the dull ruddy glow from the fiery peaks. One such beam played across the broad grey dome of the dig site installation which cowered beneath the foothills. The plain itself was formed from a vast lake of lava that had twisted and cracked as it had cooled into weird fractured plates and rope-like whorls. Against the desolate expanse, the kilometre wide dome covering the dig site appeared a tiny, lonely outpost

Rekkid eyed the scene from the crawler’s cab with a disapproving eye.

‘Charming place,’ he commented. ‘I wonder why it doesn’t appear on any holiday brochures. Toxic atmosphere, rivers of fire, pillars of smoke

who could resist?’

‘Yeah well, I always take you to the nicest places,’ replied Katherine.

‘Hmm. How did you sleep last night?’ asked Rekkid. ‘Any more dreams?’

‘Thankfully not. It seems that whoever it was decided to leave me alone.’

‘It could just have been a bad dream, you know.’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘Like I said, it didn’t feel like it.’

‘It could have been worse, you could have had Reynaud in there with you,’ said Rekkid, trying to lift the mood. Katherine snorted.

‘Why do you think I locked the door? Any idea where he is?’

‘Mentally preparing another dramatic speech about what they’ve found here no doubt. He’s a showman, I’ll give him that, though he’s not much of a serious archaeologist.’

‘He is fool, that one,’ said Farouk from the driver’s seat. ‘All night long he was up here, talking about himself. Is all bullshit. He drove my brother crazy!’

‘Farouk,’ said Katherine. ‘What have you heard about what’s been found here? You drive back and forth between the dig and the mining base all the time. You must have picked up something about what the Navy uncovered.’

Farouk was silent for a moment. He glowered at the hellish scenery for a moment before speaking.

‘I have heard a few things. None of them good. People tell me that the Navy have found a great, black ship. That it is cursed, evil. That dream you had last night; you are not the first to see such things. They say

they say that the ship drives men mad. It gets inside their heads somehow. So far it has left me alone, inshallah, but I do not like it. I do not like being here. If it speaks to you, I should leave if I were you.’

‘You think that the ship was trying to contact me?’

‘Yes, they say it speaks to people, shows them things. All over the moon, people have been going crazy.’

‘What does

what does it look like?’ asked Katherine.

‘I do not know exactly. I have seen it myself, but only briefly. But my friend Aziz got a good look at it when he went to deliver some equipment. He said that it looked like it had come straight from hell itself.’

‘Alien technology can often look strange to others,’ said Rekkid, glibly. ‘No disrespect to your brother’s friend, but perhaps he was getting carried away.’

‘No

no he said that there was something about the ship besides its appearance.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He said it was as if it was watching him.’

In the rear of the vehicle, Cox lurked in his cabin. He sat hunched over a datapad, which he held in one hand, whilst in the other he gripped a cup of coffee which sloshed and threatened to spill with each bump and sway of the crawler as it descended to the plain over the hard, uneven terrain.

He frowned. The latest reports from the dig site were not encouraging. The excavation team was making agonizingly slow progress. The hard layers of lava and volcanic glass that encased the alien ship were proving a problem. That; and the fact that morale was rock bottom among his men. Many of them apparently now refused to work on the ship, though he had forbidden any of them to leave the dig site until the work was completed in the interests of security.

Bullshit, thought Cox. He had no time for such nonsense. The engineers and drivers that the Navy had brought in from local contractors were a superstitious lot, not to mention his suspicion that they were trying to drag the process out as long as possible in order to claim more money in wages. No doubt it was they who had started the rumours that the ship was haunted. He suspected that it was only a matter of time before his workforce began to demand hazard bonuses for working on the site. Quite frankly he was disgusted that some of the scientists and technicians seemed to have been spooked as well. Cox had no illusions about the prevalence of such beliefs amongst people living out here on the frontier. Too many weeks alone in space or on the surface of alien worlds and a life of constant danger tended to breed superstition as a way of coping with a life where death was commonplace, but he would have none of it, especially from persons who supposedly made their livings from being rational and level-headed. He made a mental note to exert some authority over his men when he got back to the dig. Things were getting far too lax around here, and he had his career to think of after all.

There was a polite rap of knuckles at the cabin door and Reynaud showed himself in before Cox could respond. He stood before Cox, a slight smile upon his well groomed features. Cox attempted to suppress his dislike of the man. Reynaud was useful to him, but that didn’t mean that he had to like him.

‘Admiral,’ said Reynaud. ‘We shall be at the dig site soon.’

‘Ah, good,’ Cox replied, barely looking up from his work. ‘Come in Henri, sit down.’ The tall archaeologist did so, perching himself with casually crossed legs on a small folding chair. ‘What do you make of these reports?’ said Cox and passed the datapad to Reynaud who appeared to scan-read it, before placing it on the small table at his side.

‘Ridiculous,’ Reynaud snorted. ‘They’re just ignorant fools, my dear Admiral. They are fearful of what they do not understand.’

‘Even the academics?’

‘But of course!’ Reynaud cried. ‘The academic community is staid and closeted. These are men who are scared of their own societies, who bury themselves in books and laboratories because they cannot face the outside world. No wonder they fear the unknown. They are scared. They have no imagination, no intellectual courage!’

‘You do not consider yourself to be one of them?’

‘Of course not. I am a breed of scientist such as those great men of the Enlightenment, Admiral. I can think for myself and I do not fear the unknown. Time and again my theories have been rubbished by those idiots, only for me to be vindicated. I am unafraid to challenge accepted views.’

Cox scratched a stubble cheek thoughtfully for a moment. ‘These reports of… dreams and whatnot. What about that? Superstition?’

‘Oh no, absolutely not Admiral. I myself have experienced them.’

‘You have?’ said Cox, with disbelief. ‘And what was the dream about Doctor?’

Reynaud ignored Cox’s sceptical tone. ‘The ship was calling me. It spoke to me in my sleep.’

‘I see

So, this nightmare

’

‘Oh it was no nightmare, Admiral,’ said Reynaud, cutting him off. ‘Quite the opposite. It showed me what lies inside the vessel, what wondrous secrets it contains.’

‘And what secrets does it contain?’

‘That ship is filled with Progenitor technology, advanced artefacts that could catapult our species into a glorious future. If we learn its secrets we could leapfrog tens of thousands of years of technological development at a stroke!’

‘Cor and O’Reilly said that it wasn’t a Progenitor ship.’

‘Cor and O’Reilly were incorrect in their assessment. Personally, I doubt their ability and their usefulness to this project. Admiral, the ship spoke to me - it showed me visions of their lost empire! Great glittering cities in the void, the very stars themselves tamed and nurtured!’

‘And you, on the other hand, are content to put your trust in some sort of dream or hallucination. Are you sure you haven’t been working too hard, Henri? This all sounds a bit

fanciful.’

Reynaud laughed. ‘But of course not! I’m telling you, Admiral. That ship is alive, and it spoke to me! You remember the reports from the Maranos incident, of Progenitor machines that contained the very souls of their creators? Perhaps this is another?’

‘The reports filed by the captain of the science vessel Darwin, or any of the naval commanders in the system at the time, failed to mention anything about dreams or visions or any other bullshit. However, our reason for excavating this ship is in the name of acquiring new technologies, as you say. We’d be fools to pass up a chance like this.’

‘Of course. Perhaps this is a new technology we haven’t seen before? A defence or communication system of some kind?’

‘Perhaps. But until I see some proof, you are to deny all knowledge of such incidents and nor are you to permit the men to spread such rumours.’ Cox answered sternly. He continued: ‘I’ll bet once one of them said he had a nightmare, all the others succeeded in scaring themselves silly. I’ve already issued an order that such rumours and stories are to be denied, but I’d appreciate it if you’d care to keep an eye on our civilian workforce for me. See if you can find out who’s spreading these stories. Even if it is true, as you say, I don’t want this project to run over schedule because my workforce is too scared of the thing to dig it out.’

The crawler jolted suddenly as it mounted the edge of an angled plate of lava. Cox braced himself for support, and then composed himself. Reynaud seemed untroubled by the vehicle’s lurching.

‘I quite understand. Not everyone is as

open to the unknown as I.’

‘Quite. Reynaud as soon as we reach the dig you are to give Professor Cor and Doctor O’Reilly a full tour of the site, as well as brief them fully about our progress. I know you don’t exactly get along, but I need their expertise. Command assured me that they are the best people in their respective fields, and I don’t want their talents wasted, is that clear? The mission is our top priority here, not our respective personal agendas.’

Reynaud seemed to sneer at that, Cox noticed. It probably hadn’t escaped the loathsome man’s notice that this situation had proved to be something of a windfall for him, career-wise. If this project was successful, he’d have the pick of the choicer postings within the Commonwealth, instead of stuck in a backwater like this.

‘Of course Admiral,’ said Reynaud smoothly. ‘If you’ll excuse me I’ll just go and review my notes, and whatever progress reports you have passed on to me.’

‘Very well,’ Cox turned back to his work, leaving the archaeologist to show himself out.

It was another hour until the crawler succeeded in bouncing and jolting its way across the lava plain and arrived finally at the gates of the security perimeter around the dig site. By now, the wind had increased. Sheets of dust and ash moved horizontally outside the cab windows as the storm howled around the vehicle. Katherine peered over Farouk’s shoulder at the armed guards patrolling the gate. They were clad in heavy environment suits, their hardened composite plates pitted by the relentless battering from the dust storms and acidic rains of the moon. They stood beside armoured auto turrets and what looked like a selection of security cameras and scanners.

As the crawler came to a halt outside the gates, two of the guards began walking towards it. Despite the powered joints of their suits they appeared to be having some difficulty against the buffeting of the winds and airborne dust. They came aboard via the crawler’s airlock and removed the helmets from their suits, from which yellow and grey dust cascaded onto the deck. A man and shaven headed woman. Their heads were cocooned in comms gear and breathing units which rose to form high collars from the suits’ neck joints.

Cox emerged from the rear of the crawler and exchanged salutes with them then they proceeded to conduct a search of the vehicle - no easy task given its confined spaces and the bulk of their armoured attire. They inspected every corner and each of the passengers, looking every one of them up and down as they checked their appearance and security passes against records on a handheld pad, then they saluted Cox once more and left the vehicle via the way they had entered. Katherine saw them trudge back to their positions by the gate as it began to slowly slide aside to allow the crawler to enter. Beyond, a set of doors began to part at the base of the dome. Farouk eased the crawler forwards.

Katherine saw it first, as Farouk urged the crawler inside the base - the black spiny tip of the ship’s tail, slanting upwards beyond the lip of a large pit. As the crawler continued inwards, more of the ship was revealed. It lay at an angle at the bottom of a vast, stepped quarry-like pit that the excavation teams had dug around it. The nose of the vessel was still buried at the bottom of the pit, but the hull sloped upwards at an angle of twenty degrees for almost a kilometre until the tip of its tail almost brushed the spider’s web of girders holding the roof of the dome above it. The visible part of the ship was almost twice the size of a Commonwealth destroyer class vessel and was composed of shiny black shards of a crystalline appearance that matched the fragments that they had been shown back on Barstow. The ship bulged near the point where it met the earth, then tapered steadily back, interlocking layers of shards forming a spiny, concentric structure.

‘Impressive, isn’t she?’ said Reynaud, watching them from the cab doorway, where he leaned nonchalantly against the bulkhead. ‘Have you ever seen such a ship?’

‘Not bad, not bad at all,’ Rekkid replied, without taking his eyes off the scene. ‘Of course, we once found a few bigger ones than that. But I’m quite impressed, Reynaud. I thought you were talking up your own discoveries for a moment.’

‘Come now, Professor,’ Reynaud replied, as if hurt. ‘Even a cynic such as yourself can’t help but be awed by such a thing, something of such great age and majesty.’

‘Oh we’re impressed Henri,’ said Katherine. ‘Just a little apprehensive that’s all.’

Farouk turned the crawler away from the lip of the pit and headed for a collection of temporary buildings that crowded the space between the pit and the angled base of the dome. He finally brought them to a halt inside a pressurised module that served as a garage. Rekkid and Katherine gathered their things and climbed out of the hulking vehicle, then waited in the chill, echoing space of the garage for Cox and Reynaud to join them.

Reynaud arrived moments later, carrying his jacket casually under his right arm and a light briefcase in his left hand. Cox exited the vehicle shortly afterwards, looking a little irritable, having managed to smear his dark blue uniform with yellow dust from the vehicle’s exterior. He brushed at the bright patches on his trouser legs and cursed.

‘Alright, people listen up,’ he began. ‘You’ve seen the ship, I take it?’ There were nods from Rekkid and Katherine. ‘Well I’m sure you’re both eager to take a closer look at her. Dr Reynaud, if you’d care to show our new arrivals to their assigned quarters, then we’ll regroup in the equipment bays at 13:00 standard once you two have had time to freshen up and settle in a little.’

‘If you’d care to follow me?’ said Reynaud, and beckoned towards the exit.

Reynaud led them to a suite of small rooms in one of the complex’s accommodation modules. Two spartan bedrooms and a bathroom led off from a shared lounge and kitchen area. It was with some effort and a degree of protestation that Katherine finally managed to get him to leave her alone, insisting that yes, she was fine and had everything she needed, and yes she would knock on his door if there was anything she wanted.

Having closed the door behind the persistent Dr Reynaud she heard Rekkid’s sniggering coming from his room as he unpacked his scarce belongings.

‘Maybe he and I should swap rooms,’ Rekkid called. ‘I’d hate to stand in the way of true love, you know.’

‘If you want to stand in the way of true love, then steal Reynaud’s mirror,’ Katherine quipped back, and heard Rekkid’s corresponding laugh. She stuck her head around the door to Rekkid’s room and added: ‘Or that ship. It really is his baby isn’t it?’

‘Yes, indeed. I don’t know about you though, but I find it unsettling. Did it look anything like anything you’ve seen in your dreams?’

‘No, not exactly. But there was something familiar about it though.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know

the style of its construction perhaps

I felt like I’d seen it before.’ She changed the subject. ‘How’s the research coming anyway? You know, the stuff you illicitly copied without Mentith knowing about it?’

‘Oh, that,’ Rekkid grunted, unpacking a selection of tunics and shaking out the creases from the Arkari made material. ‘Well, like I said, it’s all very fascinating, historically speaking. But I still can’t see what’s so important about it from a military standpoint.’

‘You’ll have to let me have a look.’

‘Oh, be my guest. There’s far more material even on the scant few wafers I managed to copy than any one person could ever really research properly. However, I did find something of particular interest.’

‘Oh, what?’

‘Well I don’t know exactly. It’s an absolutely huge block of data. I fed it into the translation program and it seems to be taking forever to process. It’s been stuck around the thirty percent mark for hours now. I gather from what the computer’s been telling me, that the data has been compressed via advanced algorithms. Whatever it is, there’s an awful lot of it.’

In his private office in the base’s command centre, Cox activated the console set into his small desk and established a secure connection via the military hypercom with his superiors back on Earth. Operating via hyperspatial data nodes, communication with the home system was instantaneous, despite the hundreds of light years separating the worlds.

The connection established itself and then the stern, dark skinned, grey haired features of Admiral Morgan filled the paper thin screen. Morgan was a member of Joint Chiefs of Staff, one of the most senior military figures in the Commonwealth, one of the few people between Haines and the President in the command structure.

‘Sir, you requested an update on our progress,’ Cox said smartly.

‘Yes, I did Admiral. How goes the excavation?’

‘We are slipping behind schedule a little sir. Cutting away the hard volcanic rock is proving a problem without jeopardising the vessel or my men. We’ve also been suffered from poor morale among the workforce. However, I am confident that we will have a major breakthrough any day now. Our new team members have arrived. Cor and O’Reilly should prove to be a great help in assessing this ancient craft.’

Morgan nodded thoughtfully. ‘Hmm, you know I still have misgivings about those two being there,’ he said.

‘Sir, I assure you that the security of this operation will be maintained,’ Cox replied firmly

‘Yes, I’m sure it will. But Cor is Arkari after all, I’m not sure he can be trusted.’

‘He is a civilian sir, and by all accounts he and War Marshal Mentith do not see eye to eye.’

‘Perhaps,’ replied Morgan sceptically

‘Besides sir, by the time Cor has any opportunity to communicate with the outside world, it won’t matter anyway. The ship will be in our possession and her secrets will be ours. These two archaeologists are the foremost in their fields. We need them on our team for this sir, regardless of their affiliations and past records.’

‘I’m sure you’ll do everything possible Admiral. Academics are easy to manipulate. I’d bet the two of them will be too absorbed in their work

in your work for them to worry about the wider implications.’

‘Sir.’

‘We need this, Admiral. The technology that ship could give us

’ Morgan looked at him intently. ‘You know, many of us here back home, both in the military and the government are beginning to get a little sick and tired of the Arkari, the President included. If they’d just given us some of their technology to fight the Empire

just think of the lives that could have been saved! Don’t you ever wonder what they’re up to?’

‘It had crossed my mind sir. Personally, I’ve always disliked their high minded attitude towards us. We are treated as though we’re their naughty children who need to be molly-coddled and who can’t be trusted to look after ourselves. We should seize every chance we get to acquire new technologies. Why should we be denied them?’

‘Exactly. The Arkari must not find out about this ship, Admiral, which is why we’re keeping Haines out of the loop on this one. He’s grown too close to their high command for our liking. I’m sure I can count on you being discreet. After all

your career would definitely benefit from the successful completion of this vital task. How does ‘Vice Admiral Cox’ sound to you?’

‘I’d like that very much sir.’

‘Good, good. Pay no heed to the rumour mill Admiral. Ghost ships do not interest me; however ships full of ancient technological secrets interest me a great deal. The Arkari have been giving us reports of phantom ships and mysterious organisms, but they’ve yet to provide us with any hard evidence. Neither I nor the other Joint Chiefs have seen anything that satisfies us. The President is in the process of curtailing the Black Ops budget as we speak, now that the war is over. Chasing shadows is not a military priority and we must concentrate on moving forward and building the peace.’

‘Try telling Haines that, I hear he’s been running his own private operation with the help of the Arkari.’

‘Yes, well. We generally allow fleet admirals a certain leeway in how they run their operations in wartime. But

it may be time to curtail such eccentricities now that peace has broken out. Many have called for the old man to retire you know, so that other younger commanders can take his place, if you catch my drift.’

Cox tried to suppress a smile. ‘Yes sir, I do sir.’

‘Good, good. Well, carry on then. I’ll look forward to hearing how you get on. I’d like to keep this low profile for now, but we’ll see about boosting the fleet compliment in Hadar pending any discoveries that might need protection during transit back to Earth. The two Atlas class heavy lifters you requested have been dispatched, but I was thinking of giving you another battle group to join you. I understand the repairs to the Germanicus have taken longer than expected, and given the piracy problems you’ve been having I suspect you could use the extra assets. Perhaps we’ll send you the Nimitz and her flotilla; once the carrier has completed her shakedown trials?’

‘A Saturn class carrier? Thank you sir, I’m flattered. We’ve been rather stretched here at the moment. To be honest, I’ve been itching to get space under me again. The Germanicus’ crew have missed their commander, so I’m told.’

‘Yes well, this alien ship must be protected at all costs Admiral, remember that.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Very good, Morgan out.’ The Vice Admiral cut the link, leaving Cox staring at the console interface. He breathed out a sigh of relief, then chuckled to himself in satisfaction.

They stood at the bottom of the pit in the shadow of the alien vessel. The huge stern of the ship jutted out of the ground in front of them at an angle, the layered cone of spikes rising up over their heads until it came to a single point a couple of hundred metres above them. The ship dwarfed the ant-like figures of the suited humans and their excavation equipment and utility vehicles which seemed like toys against its looming immensity.

Katherine studied its segmented black surface, her own breathing loud inside the armoured pressure suit she wore. Rekkid and Reynaud were similarly attired to protect them from the noxious gases of Rhyolite’s atmosphere. She attempted to suppress the sense of claustrophobia she always felt inside these things and to steady her breathing and calm her nerves.

There was something deeply unsettling about that ship, as though it were only playing dead, like a deep sea predator attempting to lure unsuspecting prey close enough to swallow. If she looked away it seemed to shift at the corner of her vision, but then moved back if she looked right at it, before she could catch it in the act. It didn’t seem to be wholly there at all, like an impression of ship, like a shadow cast by an object rather than the object itself. Although her eyes were telling her that it was around kilometre in length, it seemed at once much smaller and far, far larger. It made her skin crawl.

‘Rekkid,’ she said, keying her comm. ‘Do you feel it?’

‘Feel what?’ he replied.

‘The ship. It

I can’t even put it into words properly.’

‘Like it isn’t real?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Like it doesn’t belong here, like it isn’t really here.’

She heard Reynaud snort inside his suit with derision.

‘Please tell me you aren’t scared of it too,’ he said. ‘What you are experiencing is just a normal reaction to witnessing something so wholly alien. Please Professor, Katherine, try to remain professional. I for one feel nothing but awe when I look upon this craft. Shall we?’ He indicated toward the ship with a gloved hand.

Reynaud began to trudge across the hard black surface of the lava, etched smooth by the cutting tools of the excavation team. Katherine followed suit and saw Rekkid pause to pick up a small rock, a chip of lava broken off by the digging. He turned it over in the heavy gauntlet of his suit and peered at it through his helmet visor. She saw his brow furrow. She stopped and looked at him.

‘Something the matter, Rekkid?’

‘I was just wondering

Henri, have you had this lava field dated? Presumably it was still molten when that thing crashed into it.’

‘Yes we have Rekkid,’ Reynaud replied. ‘This whole lava plain was formed by a massive eruption fifty years ago. As I’ve said previously, we believe that the ship drifted into the moon’s gravity well and made planet-fall here. Fortunately the soft lava broke its fall.’

‘Yeah, convenient. Fifty years

around the time of the first Commonwealth war against the K’Soth.’

‘So?’

‘Maybe you attracted someone’s attention.’

‘Oh come now, this ship is millions of years old. You’re just being paranoid.’

‘It pays to be paranoid, we’ve found,’ said Katherine.

‘I’m sure,’ Reynaud replied dismissively. ‘You’ve come all this way; surely you would like to see the ship up close? Come on, this way, we’re wasting time.’ He stomped off between a line of parked cutting rigs towards the ship. Rekkid shrugged inside his suit and rolled his eyes theatrically.

As they approached the ship, the bustle of suited figures increased. Cox had a sizeable workforce clearing the tonnes of lava from around the base of the ship, whilst others were hard at work erecting a support cradle to prevent the vessel from tipping over once the surrounding rock had been removed. A series of heavy digging machines were in operation, whilst an array of cranes and AG lifting units manoeuvred composite girders into position around the flanks and underside of the craft. Even through the alien atmosphere and their thick suits, the noise was considerable.

The three figures stepped aside as a huge truck laden with lava rubble rumbled up the rough dirt road from the centre of the dig site towards the spiralling ramp that led back up to the lip of the deep, stepped pit. It left a cloud of whirling dust in its wake. Reynaud led them on.

They were right under the vessel now. It loomed above them, huge, black and ancient. Katherine could see the surface of the ship better now. The material contained patterns composed of the same characters that she and Rekkid had seen on the fragments they had been shown back at Barstow, though these seemed a little different. There seemed to be something else too, some sort of pressure emanating from the ship that seemed to manifest itself only in her mind. She shook her head and blinked heavily to clear her thoughts.

‘Are you alright?’ said Rekkid, looking at her with concern.

‘Nothing it’s… I don’t know. I don’t feel so good.’

‘Anything wrong with your suit? Maybe your respirator’s faulty.’

‘No, it’s something to do with the ship I think. I

’ she paused. ‘It’s stopped all of a sudden. I

I feel fine.’

‘Hmm, Henri, have you ever encountered anything like this before?’

‘Why yes,’ said Reynaud, matter-of-factly. ‘It’s some sort of defence mechanism we think, I shouldn’t worry about it too much. It seems to have spooked a few of our people though.’

‘Any idea what triggers it?’

‘Once or twice when our machines grazed the surface of ship it seemed to respond with similar attacks, though of a magnitude far greater than the one you experienced, but it quite often happens seemingly at random to particular individuals. It’s as if it takes a particular interest in certain people.’

‘Perhaps it’s a form of communication as well?’ Katherine ventured.

‘You may be correct, we don’t know,’ Reynaud replied with a shrug.

‘What about dreams?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You ever had any nightmares since you came to this moon Henri? Weird visions of alien empires. That sort of thing?’

Reynaud paused and looked at her. She could read his curious expression through the visor of his helmet.

‘Why

yes I have Katherine. The ship has shown me the most wonderful images of its civilisation - glittering spires and technological wonders beyond comprehension.’

‘It did huh?’ said Rekkid sceptically. ‘Katherine had a rather different experience, didn’t you?’

She nodded slowly.

‘You could say that,’ she replied. ‘What I saw was pretty awe inspiring, but for rather different reasons. It didn’t ‘glitter’ very much, that’s for sure. It looked like a civilisation in its death throes, or at least one that came straight from somewhere so hellish that we’d barely be able to comprehend it.’

‘Interesting,’ said Reynaud thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps you saw the last days of the people who built this ship. I wonder why it chose to show you something like that?’

‘I don’t know, but it also showed me a vessel and it looked human. The ship was

someone on the ship was calling out for help.’

‘Strange. I have not seen this. Rekkid, how about you, have you experienced any dreams or visions since you came here?’

‘Nope, and quite frankly I’m rather glad that that thing,’ he gestured at the vessel, ‘has chosen to stay out of my subconscious for the time being. This place is weird enough without being mind-fucked by a star-ship, if you’ll pardon the expression.’

Reynaud shook his head and tramped on, leading them further down under the stern of the vessel, to where a team of workers were busy with energy based cutting gear, paring off chunks of lava from the underside of the ship to reveal the skin of its hull. Reynaud approached one of the men, whose nametag identified him as the foreman and spoke to him over a local network channel.

‘Mr Aaronson, how goes the work?’ Reynaud asked to the shorter man, stocky and grimy in his well worn suit.

‘We’re a little behind schedule,’ came the gruff reply. ‘Had another one of the lads taken off site yesterday with one of them attacks. Poor sod kept gibbering about all sorts of stuff, then he fainted. Medical’s got him under observation. Anyway, we’re a bit short handed here for the moment.’

‘Would it be alright if my colleagues and I took a look at the hull section you’ve just uncovered for a moment?’

‘Be my guest, Doctor,’ Aaronson replied. ‘It’s your ship after all. Lads, let these three through.’

The group of suited figures moved away from the ship and stood, leaning on their tools as they let the three academics past. One of the men winked at Katherine as he caught her eye.

Reynaud stepped up to the surface of the ship and waved at Katherine and Rekkid to come closer. He peered intently at the dark, glassy surface. Katherine moved closer to better see what he was looking at.

‘What do you make of this?’ Reynaud asked. ‘These patterns in the surface?’

Katherine looked closer at the skin of the ship. The patterns they had seen earlier were clearly visible, but they seemed alive and moving. Snaking, alien shapes, they shifted and changed beneath the ship’s glassy skin like dim shadowy forms seen through deep water. Looking deeper still she could see layer upon layer of these patterns, all moving slowly over one another, and within each pattern were smaller patterns, woven fractal-like into the larger forms. The smaller patterns were of a different nature, strings of symbols arranged in three dimension forms.

‘Hmm, interesting,’ said Rekkid.

‘Isn’t it just?’ said Reynaud.

‘No, I mean that these patterns are different from the fragments you showed us back on Barstow. There are two languages here. One seems to be piggy backed onto the other. Only the smaller patterns were visible in those shards.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, it has a different structure. They both use the same characters, but they are arranged differently. One is purely linear as you or I would write onto a page, the other is arranged three dimensionally. The same forms and patterns re-occur throughout each separately. I’m wondering if the way that the patterns move also has significance.’

‘Can you read it?’

‘The smaller patterns, yes I can. It’s Progenitor script in a form we’ve encountered many times before. I have translation software that should be able to deal with it en masse without a problem. The other? No, not without a primer of some kind or unless I can establish the relationship between the different patterns. But we should try and record as much of the ship’s surface as possible. Maybe if I can decipher what all this means, we can understand the ship and its creators far better. This looks like some sort of machine language. It could help us further understand the workings of their systems.’

‘I’ll get a survey team on it right away; we have plenty of recording equipment.’ Reynaud began communicating with the dig site base, ordering men and materiel for the task of scrutinising the surface of the vessel. He wandered away as he talked, and then went to inspect another recently exposed hull section.

‘Well done Rekkid,’ said Katherine. ‘I think you’ve actually managed to impress our host.’

‘It was nothing.’

‘Nothing? That was quite an insight you provided there.’

‘Look again at those patterns Katherine, at the smaller strings wrapped around the larger forms. Where have you seen those before?’

‘Shit

’ she breathed. ‘ This is Progenitor Tri-Linear Script. So maybe this is a Progenitor ship?’

‘I don’t think so. That other series of patterns are the same as the ones on those pieces that Cox showed us back on Barstow, but here they appear in conjunction with the more familiar language. I think one has been incorporated into the other, as though it’s been borrowed somehow. It still doesn’t explain why the writing on those shards that Reynaud showed us back on the station only incorporated the single unfamiliar script and why it was only displayed in a two dimensional form which made no sense. Maybe it has something to do with them being removed from the ship.’

‘Perhaps the larger, linear script represents the backbone of the system with these other layers bolted onto it.’

‘Yes, something like that. Perhaps there is a direct relationship between the two languages, one feeding data to and from the other. This looks like something that came from a civilisation that was quite happy to incorporate other cultures. Not that that’s a bad thing of course. Perhaps these people were quite cosmopolitan in their era.’

‘Or perhaps they enslaved others. So how long do you think it’ll take to translate these patterns?’

‘The small ones, I can do almost immediately, but I’ve no idea what the larger ones signify. Perhaps decoding the smaller ones might give me a clue. It impressed Reynaud no end when I ‘suddenly’ understood some of the writing. Always play your cards close to your chest with people like Reynaud, Katherine. It pays to have an advantage.’

‘Hmm, I couldn’t agree more. Anyway, I’ll see if I can get an analysis of the hull material. Despite what Reynaud’s been saying, I’d like to see some sort of date for this thing for myself. Just a second.’

She reached for a bulky package strapped to the belt of her suit. With clumsy gloved fingers she undid the fastenings and removed a small, oblong, date analysis module from it. Cursing her gloved hands she held the device against the skin of the vessel then carefully pressed a few keys inlaid on its upper surface. She peered at the device’s small screen, the light from which illuminated her face inside the helmet of her suit.

‘Anything interesting?’ said Rekkid. ‘Please tell me that Reynaud was wrong, I’d love to see his face.’

‘No, wait

it’s taking a while, the software doesn’t recognise the materials. Hmm.’

‘Hmm? Well?’

‘It seems like the device is having trouble verifying the date. According to the readings, this ship is either five billion years old, or it was only built about a century ago.’

‘Try adjusting it.’

‘I have.’

‘What readings is it trying to take?’

‘Electron spin resonance, luminescence

I thought this thing might be crystalline

hell I even asked for a carbon date in case it was organic, cosmic ray bombardment shows the same thing too.

‘Let me have a look at it,’ said Rekkid, moving closer. He squinted at the device. ‘Well, I think I see the problem.’

‘Oh?’ replied Katherine, feeling a little foolish. ‘Let me guess, I pressed three keys at once with these great big gloves on.’

‘No, look at where the module touches the skin of the ship.’

She did so.

‘Shit,’ she breathed. ‘Even though I’m pressing the module against the ship’s hull, it’s not actually in contact with anything physical, but there’s a surface there, nonetheless.’

‘Rather unsettling.’

‘How is that possible, some sort of energy field?’

‘Maybe

there’s another possibility though.’

‘Go on.’

‘You and I both commented on the fact that this ship doesn’t ‘feel’ right, like it isn’t really here. You can feel it now. Its mere presence seems to upset your brain’s perception of it. The thing exudes a feeling of disorientation doesn’t it?’

She nodded in agreement.

‘It’s like that feeling you get when you see a star-ship jump to hyperspace

I could be jumping to conclusions here, but I think that this thing exists in multiple dimensions. It would explain why we can’t get proper readings from it, why it confuses our perception so much. Our brains did not evolve to think in more than three spatial dimensions. We see something that exists in more than that and we can’t fully comprehend what we’re seeing. I’d love to know why Reynaud hasn’t mentioned anything about this. Even if I’m wrong, the fact that we can’t touch the physical surface of this ship is

well it’s just a bit odd, isn’t it?’

‘Bloody hell Rekkid, you really have to wonder what sort of level of technology is required to build something like this. If I remember my physics correctly, this sort of device is purely theoretical as far as both of our species are concerned. I think I read somewhere that the Navy tried something similar once in order to mask ships with a hyperspace field, but it kept annihilating the vessels concerned because the fields were too unstable.’

‘And even so, it required huge amounts of power. As far as I know, my species has never managed that little trick either. But this thing just seems to exist quite comfortably where it is. Yes, indeed. I think we should have a word with Cox. If we’re going to test my theory we need access to sensor equipment capable of detecting small space-time anomalies. We need the services of a star-ship.’

‘We’ll need plenty of evidence to convince him. I don’t suppose that there are any world-class quantum physicists hanging around?’

‘No, just two archaeologists with a tenuous hunch. Come on, let’s verify our results. We need to convince the Admiral that our hunch is more than just that.’

Chapter 14

In the days and weeks that passed as the Profit Margin travelled between the borders of Nahabe space and the remote Commonwealth star system of Hadar, Isaacs and Anita struck up a relationship of sorts. To his surprise, the girl was actually useful aboard ship. Aside from the obvious benefits she brought to his normally solitary existence, she had experience of space travel and star-ship maintenance, having apparently grown up aboard her family’s freighter caravan as it had plied the lucrative trade routes across the Commonwealth and beyond. She certainly wasn’t the wide eyed tourist he had taken her for at first. She even had a few yarns of her own to tell him after he’d tried impressing her with his deep space exploits. It seemed that her family had cut her loose for a few years before they set her to work in the family business with a ship of her own.

Isaacs decided to take her under his wing. He soon had her earning her keep, looking after the Profit Margin’s less critical systems and occasionally sitting up in the cockpit, keeping an eye on the ship as it powered through hyperspace.

He sat now at the ship’s main command console as it counted down the minutes and seconds until they jumped back into the shipping lanes around the moon system of the Hadar B’s largest gas giant, Beatty. He glanced over at Anita as she reclined casually in the opposite seat; her brown arms clasped around one folded knee. She flashed him a smile and brushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes.

It was funny, he thought, for the first time in a long while he was actually happy, after a fashion. During the day cycle, the ship’s gangways resounded to the sound of Anita’s cheerful voice and occasional singing as she worked, and even his jaded personality began to find her enthusiasm infectious. She made the ship feel like a real home for a change, instead of just a refuge. By night, she came to his quarters, still grimy from her day’s exertions and screwed his brains out.

Things, he reflected a little smugly, could certainly have been much worse. Quite what Anita saw in him, aside from a free ride, he hadn’t quite fathomed. But in any case, he intended to enjoy it while it lasted, however long that was. He strongly suspected it would be until they reached Hadar, and then that would be that. Either that or when he died from exhaustion.

The view outside twisted back into place - the pregnant banded orb of Beatty and the smaller, mottled, yellow-orange globe of the volcanic moon Rhyolite replacing the rushing blackness of the hyperspace envelope. Isaacs checked the sensors, squinting at both local and system-wide displays. Anita saw him frown.

‘Something wrong?’ she asked.

‘Hmm? Oh, no not really,’ he replied. ‘There’s just a lot of military traffic in-system that’s all.’

‘I checked the system catalogue the other day, y’know, just to see where we were headed. There’s a base in this system between this star and the binary.’

‘Oh, yeah I know. Lot of ships though. Big ones too. Maybe it’s an exercise or something. Shit, there’s even one of the new Saturn class carriers.’

‘Maybe they came to hit the local pirate gangs. I shouldn’t worry. You’re not carrying anything you shouldn’t are you?’

‘With the exception of you, no I’m not.’

She laughed at that.

‘Still,’ he continued. ‘It makes you wonder what’s so special about this backwater system. Since when did a bunch of inbred miners warrant the deployment of this much firepower?’

Barstow Station traffic control slotted them into their approach patterns and the Profit Margin landed aboard the orbital facility without incident, the freighter being finally berthed in one of the docking bays clustered around the wheel shaped station’s central hub.

They collected their things from the ship and took the elevator outwards along one of the four arms that linked the hub to the habitation ring. Before they had left the ship, Isaacs had taken time to query the local station network as to the availability of hotel rooms aboard and by chance found a double room in a cheap hotel a short walk from the elevator exit.

The room was basic but comfortable, and the view from the small windows looked out over the grimy cityscape within the habitation ring whose jumble of boxy structures curved out of sight around the inner surface.

Isaacs dropped his bag and stretched out on the bed, making a mental note to get comfier bunks for his ship as Anita busied herself with unpacking.

‘So, what now?’ he said. ‘You going to stick around for a while longer?’

‘Uh huh,’ she replied distractedly. ‘Maybe I can help you find your wife? I’d like to meet her, I think.’

‘Yeah, I’m not sure she’ll appreciate that,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I might have some explaining to do, although

come to think of it, it would go some way to making us even.’

‘She really fucked you around huh? With the money and everything?’

‘Yeah, and the rest.’

He’d confided to Anita on the way here the situation between himself and Anna one night after the two of them had got drunk aboard ship. Their break up, her shadowy existence since then and what he’d uncovered so far about her new circle of friends. It had felt good to talk to someone, though he’d left out the part about why she had left him. Some things he didn’t feel like talking about. He hadn’t been drunk enough to divulge that one.

Anita held up a t-shirt, frowned at the creases and slotted it onto a hanger.

‘So, what’s our next move? You going to meet someone here?’

‘I think someone’s supposed to meet me,’ he answered, staring at the ceiling. ‘Though I don’t know who.’

‘So how are you supposed to recognise them?’

‘Beats me. I guess I’ll know when I see them or when they get in touch. Anna’s people probably have the spaceport watched, so I bet they’ll know I’m here.’

‘So

’

‘So we wait.’

‘What, here? Can’t we go out and see the station?’

‘I suppose. Looks like a bit of hole if you ask me.’

‘I’ve seen worse. Come on, let’s find somewhere to eat. I fancy something other than the food you have on your ship.’

‘I’m a man of simple tastes.’

‘I’m surprised you taste anything if you eat that bland shit all the time. Come on. Let’s get showered and changed and we can go eat.’

‘I not really into dates, you know.’

‘Me neither, but I’m starving. Come on get in the shower. You stink. You’ve had those ship overalls on for a week.’

‘I have not

’ He began to protest, and then saw the look on her face. ‘Alright, fine.’ He said, pushing himself up off the bed. ‘In the shower I go.’ He paused on his way to the bathroom. ‘Care to join me?’ he added. ‘I think there’s some ancient rule about couples and hotel rooms. Besides, water’s scarce on the station and it’d be a shame to run two showers.’

They left the hotel and walked together down the main central thoroughfare around the station. Isaacs cast a sceptical eye over his surroundings. He’d been in some fairly crappy parts of the Commonwealth in his time, but this place really did reach new levels of decrepitude. Many of the buildings seemed as though they hadn’t been cleaned since the station was built and the streets were strewn with rubbish. Rats and other vermin scurried in the alleyways amidst the piles of decomposing refuse.

Anita seemed strangely at home here. Or at least it didn’t bother her visibly. She seemed her usual cheerful self. He guessed she was impressed just by being somewhere new. Part of him envied her naivety.

‘So, where shall we eat?’ she asked brightly.

‘Not around here that’s for sure,’ Isaacs replied. ‘I do have some standards. Hey, watch it!’ A drunken miner on leave stumbled into him in an effort to rejoin his friends at the take-away across the street from the bar he’d just exited. The man mumbled an apology and winked lecherously at Anita.

‘Yeah, it seems like there’s some better places up ahead. Some proper restaurants and cafes,’ she said, ignoring the man and pointing up the street where indeed, the buildings did seem a little cleaner. Holo-signs in a handful of languages winked luridly through the stale air.

‘Good,’ grunted Isaacs. ‘It could hardly get much worse. That place we just passed stank worse than a K’Soth’s arsehole.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Believe me, I know. Took me days to get the smell out of the heads on the ship

long story.’ He dismissed her quizzically amused look with a wave of his hand.

Eventually they found a place that looked cleaner and more frequented than the others and served Mexican food, or a variant thereof. In any case, the food was good, plentiful and cheap, even if the guacamole did give Isaacs pause for thought. Well, at least it’s green, he thought. He sat back sipping his beer and watched Anita as she finished the last of her king size burrito. She certainly did have quite the appetite for a woman of her stature, he mused.

‘So Cal, what attracted you to this life?’ she said through a mouthful of food.

‘Hmm?’ he replied distractedly.

‘You know, living out of space port bars, eking out a precarious existence and all the rest.’

‘Oh you know

I think I always wanted to be a pilot. Ever since I was a kid. I used to listen to my Grandpa’s war stories and I think I worshipped him a bit. Always wanted to see the stars I guess.’

‘You were in the Navy weren’t you?’

‘Yeah, I was for a bit.’

‘How come you left?’

‘Oh well

’ he paused. ‘It

didn’t really work out for me I guess. I suppose I don’t suit the military life. I don’t take orders well, you know.’

‘Mmm I figured.’ She seemed to be scrutinising him. Smart kid. She could tell he wasn’t being straight with her.

‘Anyway, I didn’t fancy working for one of the big haulage concerns or the mining corporations, so Anna and I decided to make a go of it freelancing. We did pretty well for a time before it all fell apart. We had some good times too. Some of the crazy shit we pulled over the years

’ He laughed ruefully.

‘You really loved her, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, and I fucked it up. Well, I suppose we both did. Still, it was better than working in some fucking office back home on Mars like my Dad did all those years for Orion Shipping before they downsized him without so much as a thank you. Chryse Planetia must be the dullest, blandest suburb in the fucking Solar System. I couldn’t wait to get out; ran away to join the Navy.’

‘Poor little rich boy. You wanted adventure?’

‘Yeah. I think my Dad was kind of proud of me actually, in a way. I had the guts to break the mould and strike out on my own. Something he never did. Anyway, you’re one to talk, Little Miss Gap Year. Mummy and Daddy going to buy you your own ship when you return?’

‘Yeah,’ she replied and grinned. ‘A big, pink, chauffeur-driven shiny one.’

‘I can picture it now.’

‘Nah. Seriously, it’ll be a while before they trust me with my own freighter. There’s a whole bunch of stuff I need to learn first. I’ll probably second for my Dad for a year or two until I learn the ropes.’

‘That shouldn’t be too hard. You grew up with this stuff.’

‘Yeah I know. But I guess I took most of it for granted. Besides, I spent most of my time from the age of five in school on Elysium whilst they were hauling stuff around the Commonwealth. I just spent the summers aboard ship. I think I fell in love with space though. There’s something about the

’ she struggled for words, ‘the perfect, terrible beauty of it all. I mean, that gas giant outside, it’s a ball of toxic gas, crushing pressures and thousand-kilometre-an-hour hurricanes

and it’s beautiful. The clouds, the ring systems

’

‘You could look at it all day.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Yeah, you’ve got it bad kid. Just like the rest of us haggard spacers. Why do you think you see old pilots still at the controls of their ships even though they’re way past retirement? Even though they’ve made enough money to stop? It’s ‘cause they fell in love with galaxy. Some of us just belong out here.’

‘But you see something else don’t you?’ she said, her eyes narrowed as she regarded him.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve seen it your eyes these past few days. Space scares you a little, doesn’t it?’

She’s very perceptive, Isaacs thought. A little too perceptive.

‘Maybe, a little, yes.’

‘My Dad used to talk about it sometimes. He said that he thought that something lurked in the silent gulfs between systems. It was a feeling he got sometimes, like he was trespassing. He used to tell us stories, about friends of his who’d found things floating out there. Strange artefacts, dead ships

that sort of thing. He said that somewhere there were whole worlds full of silent, dead cities. You believe any of that?’

‘Well

stories get around. Tall tales have been around ever since the days of sailing ships. It’s possible though. We aren’t the first race to inhabit this part of the galaxy. Doubtless we won’t be the last either.’

‘Bit of a sobering thought to think that some alien race might be sifting through all our discarded crap, millions of years from now. I intend to be buried with a plaque clutched in my hands with the words ‘piss off’ written on it in fifty languages.’

Isaacs laughed.

‘I like the sound of that one. Shall we pay the bill?

What the?’

The sound of a warning klaxon suddenly started to cut through the interior of the station. Outside the café, people stopped in their tracks and looked as bewildered as Isaacs and Anita. A few seemed to realise what the sound signified and started to hurry along the street.

‘Warning,’ said the calm tones of the station commander over the public address system. ‘This station is now in a state of battle readiness. Hostile ships have entered local space. Station defences have been activated. We ask all aboard to proceed to the emergency bunkers. No vessel will be permitted to leave the station until the current situation has been resolved. Thank you for your co-operation.’

‘Fucking hell,’ said Anita. ‘We’d better find a shelter.’

‘Ah forget it,’ Isaacs replied. ‘I’d rather see what’s going on out there. The station’s heavily shielded and I doubt we’re being invaded. Probably just some local trouble. Come on, let’s find a screen and watch the action.’

There was a terminal in the rear of the café linked to the station network. By the time they found it, they were the only people left in the place, save for the owner, a large, stocky Latino, who seemed as unperturbed by the commotion as Isaacs did.

Isaacs deposited some credit in the machine and flicked through the menus until he found the views being streamed from the station’s publicly accessible external cameras. The views from each moved slowly as the station revolved. There was nothing to see except moving star-scapes and the fuzzy points of Beatty’s smaller moons. Finally Isaacs found the main hub mounted camera that pointed forward above Barstow’s central docking port. The rings and cloudscapes of Beatty and the mottled orb of the volcanic moon Rhyolite dominated the view. There was a sudden stutter of flashes from the centre of the picture, against the backdrop of Beatty’s outer ring.

‘You see that?’ said Anita, pointing at the screen.

‘Yep,’ said Isaacs. ‘Looks like heavy weapons fire.’

A second series of flashes erupted. This time from a number of points around the first set in a roughly globular pattern. Isaacs zoomed in on the image until a Navy frigate was clearly visible at the edge of Barstow’s traffic control zone, along with two transport vessels. The frigate was firing all guns at unseen attackers all around it. One of the transports was wallowing as a stream of vented gases spewed from its engineering section. Another, smaller vessel cut across the view at high speed, energies from the frigate’s defensive turrets washing off its shield in a blaze of light.

Isaacs panned the view out to get a better look at the attacking ships. They were smaller, nimble craft that danced and wove about the larger, lumbering vessels, taking care to remain at extreme weapons range so that the fire from the frigate’s defensive laser turrets was reduced in its effectiveness, leaving the attackers free to unleash torpedoes and missiles at the vulnerable transport ships. In vain, the ship’s gunners were also attempting to fire at the fleeting targets of the attacking ship with its heavier, yet more slowly tracking, armaments. A storm of heavy particle beams surrounded the warship, bright lances of fire that stabbed outwards for kilometres. Isaacs saw the gunners aboard the frigate get lucky, as one of the heavy beams intersected with the path of a sleek corvette, annihilating the aft section of the vessel and leaving the remains to spin wildly out of control spilling atmosphere and debris. He swore he saw figures tumbling from the wreck and shuddered. It didn’t seem to deter the others. A couple of fighter class craft slipped under the frigate’s shield and unleashed torpedoes directly into the vessel’s bridge section. Defensive fire eliminated one, but the other succeeded in hugging the contours of the warship and escaped over the stern unharmed.

‘Fucking hell,’ Anita muttered, as the frigate started to list. The fire from its decks was intermittent now. The suicidal attack by the two fighters must have knocked out vital systems. The attacking ships now turned their full attention to the transports.

‘Who the fuck are these guys?’ said Isaacs. ‘They must be out of their minds to fly like that.’

‘That’d be the Hidden Hand there, my friend.’ The voice came from the café’s owner, who had wandered over to peer at the screen over Isaacs’ shoulder. ‘See the logos on the ships, a black hand against a red sun?’

Sure enough, Isaacs caught a glimpse of such a device on the engine cowling of one of the craft as it sped across his view.

‘Yeah, those guys are some of the best pilots I ever saw,’ the man continued. ‘Pretty popular with most of the folks around here too, for a bunch of pirates.’

‘Oh, why’s that?’ Isaacs asked.

‘Well, they mostly avoid private vessels and tend to prey on corporate or government ships. Dunno whether they just got some sort of moral code or whether it’s just more profitable that way. Anyway, lots of people round here tend to like to see it when those bastards get it in the neck. Fucking corporates have been bleeding this system dry and they treat their employees like shit. Safety just isn’t a concern for them, you know? It cuts into their profits and working in those mines down on Rhyolite is fucking dangerous enough, man.’

‘So what’s the beef with the government?’

‘Government don’t do nothing, man. Nada. Apart from that, the military moved in here last year and started restricting landings on Rhyolite. You gotta have a permit to land and then only at certified places. Put a lot of independent operators out of business.’

There was a dazzling flash on screen. As they looked closer they saw that one of the transports’ reactors had gone critical. The remaining forward section of the ship tumbled forward on the shockwave of expanding plasma. Bodies were spilling from the interior of the hull, now opened to hard vacuum. They looked like soldiers in uniform. Many had had the presence of mind to don sealed combat armour designed for infantry space warfare which had protected them from the worst of the blast and now shielded them from the vacuum. Assembling in a small cloud they started firing back at their attackers whilst their less fortunate comrades choked, haemorrhaged and died around them.

The other transport was in trouble too. The EM pulse from the first ship going down seemed to have fried its systems. It drifted lazily toward the frigate which appeared to be righting itself from its slewing course.

‘Shit

’ Anita muttered and shook her head.

‘So what are the military doing down on the planet?’ said Isaacs.

‘Well, they say it’s to stop pirate attacks on mining settlements down there. But they keep sending ground troops down, which ain’t much use against spacecraft, as you can see. The rumour going around is that they found something down there that they wanna keep secret from everyone else.’

‘Like what?’

‘No idea, man. Probably some weird alien shit, who knows?’

The Hidden Hand vessels were among the cloud of suited figures now. Spacecraft weapons tore through the floating figures, the heavy beams and ordnance turning the soldiers into little more than clouds of red mist and scorched body parts. Beweaponed hulls rammed into packs of frantically dodging figures at combat speed, rendering them into shattered human road kill.

‘Well whatever it is, it seems to have got these guys pretty riled up,’ Anita commented.

On the screen, other ships were now appearing. Space distorted as a Saturn class carrier and attendant flak cruisers along with wings of fighters riding the carrier’s warp wake jumped in on top of the battle. The Hidden Hand ships broke off their attack runs on the frigate and remaining transport and attempted to flee the barrage of fire and the nimble Daemon class fighters who now tried to bring them down.

Most of the pirate vessels fled the area in seemingly random directions and jumped. A few were not so lucky and were struck down by lancing anti-fighter beams or high velocity ordnance. One the flak cruisers jumped out again seemingly in pursuit.

The carrier and the other cruiser remained. Recovery and medical craft now launched from the massive vessel towards the stricken ships and the remains of the first transport. Isaacs zoomed in on the vessel and just made out its name stencilled along the side of the bow: the Chester W Nimitz.

The excitement over, the warning klaxon ceased to resound aboard Barstow station and people began to emerge from wherever they had huddled. Isaacs sat down opposite Anita.

‘I’m sorry you had to see that, kid,’ he said apologetically. ‘Guess my curiosity got the better of me. I should have realised.’

‘It’s alright, I’m not mad at you. It just brought it home to me that’s all.’

‘Yeah. I know. I’ve seen quite of space combat over the years, but that was pretty shocking.’ He looked down and realised that his hands were shaking slightly.

‘I can’t believe they did that,’ Anita said. ‘Those men, they just…’

‘Yeah I know. Each of those poor bastards probably had a family. Look, this system is a pretty rough place. I realise that it isn’t going to help if I say ‘I told you so’ but look at it this way: The business you’re going into; you are going to see people die in space sooner or later, whether it be an accident or in a fight. We sometimes forget just how dangerous it is out here. If something goes wrong on a ship and you’re in command you have to remain in control. I know it sounds insensitive, but seeing something like this might do you good in the long run, although it’s not much consolation for those guys out there, I know.’

‘Maybe,’ she sighed. ‘So you’ve seen some pretty bad shit over the years, huh?’

‘Once or twice, yes you could say that.’

‘Wanna talk about it?’

‘Not really, no. Sorry.’ He looked at her apologetically.

‘Oh. That’s okay,’ Anita replied in a small voice.

‘Besides. I think I’ve traumatised you enough for one day. Come on, let’s pay the bill and see if we can find a drink around here.’

They settled the bill with the café owner and followed his directions through the regular grid of the station interior’s streets to an area of bars that were marginally less seedy than the other ones scattered about the station. Choosing one that suited both their tastes they wandered in. The clientele were mostly human, though there was a smattering of other species. Isaacs succeeded in elbowing his way through the press of people at the bar and ordered them a couple of drinks over the noise of the music.

Returning to Anita, who had stood back from the throng, he handed her her drink and took a sip of his own. The beer was a bit flat, a regional brand from a farming world dozen light years distant, but it was the first he’d had for a few days, so what the hell.

‘How’s the drink?’ he said to her.

‘Hmm okay I guess. Not the greatest.’

‘Mine too. We can always move on after these, find somewhere else.’

‘Well there’s plenty of places around here.’

Isaacs looked around the bar thoughtfully. The screen high up in one corner was showing a news feed: the President again. A number of senators were calling for his impeachment. Well, thought Isaacs, the corrupt bastard probably had it coming. He had no time for politicians anymore. In his opinion this was further proof that the corporations really pulled the strings in the Commonwealth. They didn’t usually do it so directly though. Still, the contracts in the newly liberated systems were very lucrative. Presumably they had resorted to desperate measures.

He idly stuck his hand in his jacket pocket

and found something within: a slip of folded paper. Curious, he pulled it out and looked at it. He didn’t remember pocketing anything. He unfolded it. There was something hand written on one side, a series of numbers, and a symbol.

‘Hey,’ said Anita. ‘What’s that?’

‘Someone sent me a message, look.’

He showed her the paper.

‘Huh, numbers

shit, I recognise that symbol.’ She jabbed a forefinger at the paper where a crude silhouette of a hand had been scrawled in pen. ‘It’s the same one those ships were carrying. Where did you get this?’

‘I don’t know. I just found it in my pocket

wait a second. You remember those drunks we passed? One of them bumped into me

it must have been then. Shit, they must have planted this on me and I never knew.’

‘You think your wife’s in with those guys.’

‘Yeah I do. Wonderful, eh?’ He grimaced.

‘These numbers, they look like standard navigation coordinates.’

‘They certainly are. Somewhere in-system I’d say. Look there’s a time too. Eleven hundred standard.

‘Think they’re the location of a rendezvous?’

‘That would be the obvious conclusion. Yes.’

‘You’re going to go?’

‘Well, given that they’re probably watching us right now I think it’s probably a good idea if we play along. Going to the authorities or doing a runner might not be such a good idea if you catch my drift. Besides, I need to get Anna to change her mind. If she’s in with those Hidden Hand guys she’s gone too far and she’s in a lot of danger if you ask me.’

‘You think she’ll listen? You think they’ll even let her leave?’

‘Well there’s only one way to find out. Besides which, she owes me rather a lot of money.’

‘I’m coming with you.’

Isaacs looked straight at her. ‘Anita, you really don’t have to. This could be really dangerous. You saw how ruthless these guys can be. I really don’t think this will be the place for

’

‘A helpless little girl?’ she cut in. ‘Come off it. Besides, won’t you need someone to watch your back?’

‘Yes, but

’ he started to protest.

‘I told you, I can take care of myself.’

‘I think Anna may take a dislike to you. Given, you know…’

‘So, I’ll keep out of the way. She’ll never know I’m around. Besides, how long have you two been apart? She must have found someone else by now, yeah?’

‘Alright, alright,’ he gave in to her furious glare.

In truth he was now secretly planning to leave without her, sneak out of the hotel before she was awake, then try to contact her later when this was over, if she was still on the station and hadn’t left of her own accord. He’d leave her some money so she could get a ticket out of the system. Isaacs had grown to like Anita during their brief time together, and there was no way he could face letting her risk her life by getting into something she didn’t fully understand. He’d known of quite a few pirates who’d welcome the presence of a nice young woman for all the wrong reasons. Despite the fact that his wife appeared to have joined this Hidden Hand organisation that didn’t mean that all of its members would be quite so well disposed towards women. Nevertheless, it struck him as odd that she’d want to come, given her reaction to the battle she’d witnessed.

‘Alright. Well, I don’t know about you but I could use another drink,’ he said.

‘Nervous?’ she replied.

‘Thirsty,’ he responded.

Chapter 15

The Churchill hung in the darkness on the outskirts of the Quralish system amidst the sparse, tumbling ice mountains of the Kuiper belt. Chen had ordered the ship to halt here whilst a security team was inserted into the Labyrinth aboard one of the carrier’s supply shuttles. She didn’t want to panic the residents of the agglomeration of habitats and modules. This was partly because she wanted to remain on good terms with the local Nahabe - a notably touchy species who might object strongly to a powerful warship arriving on their borders unannounced - and partly because she didn’t want to alert anyone aboard the station as to their presence if the massive carrier approached the station.

She was keeping in touch with her team aboard the Labyrinth via a secure link through the Commonwealth owned sections of the station. The Commonwealth’s local liaison had been discretely informed of the Churchill’s presence.

Chen was in her quarters, quietly working through reams of reports on her desk console. Drill reports, maintenance details, squadron readiness rosters. She’d been ploughing through the back log of work to fill the empty time until her security team reported back from the Labyrinth, assuming they found anything of course. The Nahabe weren’t exactly the most co-operative of species, even though they were technically allies. They seemed to prefer to keep other races at arm’s length, or whatever appendages they possessed. No humans knew what one of them actually looked like, hidden away as they were inside those weird floating sarcophagi.

She browsed a weekly breakdown of maintenance on the ship’s power systems. Faults were down twenty per cent. Good. Chief Kleiner had been working his staff to combat the shakedown problems that they’d been experiencing. It was always the same with new ship classes until they got the problems and quirks ironed out. She had to admit though; the new Saturn class was one hell of a ship, probably the best one the Commonwealth had produced yet. It was fast and manoeuvrable, especially so for a ship of its size and mass, and the complement of ships it carried was twenty percent larger than the older Jupiters. The crew quarters were all slightly larger too, something that made a big difference away from home on long tours.

It had been a long time since she’d spent much time planet-side, mused Chen. The last time she’d spent more than a day on the surface of any world had been back before the war when she and Al had visited Elysium in the Eta Cassiopeia system. That was when

She felt a pang of regret.

It’d been even longer since she’d been back to Earth, five years since she’d even seen the Sun except as a distant yellow point of light against a background of thousands of others. She’d hardly seen her parents in San Francisco for nearly a decade. Since she’d left them at the shuttle-port in Alameda to take her first command, the cruiser Badon Hill, she’d spent barely more than a week in their company. Such was the life she had chosen, she supposed. Her parents didn’t resent her, but they didn’t exactly understand her, content as they were to remain in San Francisco with its hilly streets of ancient and subtly earthquake proofed buildings whilst she roamed the cosmos. She kept in touch - although she’d only told them about her involvement in the Battle of Maranos until much later - but she got the distinct impression that her life existed in another entire universe to their own.

The console chimed. It was Haldane on the bridge.

‘Admiral, we’ve got a report from the security team.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘It appears that the body of human male was found floating in the station’s gravity.’

‘Isaacs?’ she asked warily.

‘No, he’s been identified as a hit man of some notoriety known by a number of aliases but whose actual name in Laurence Spinetti. He was known to be working for our Mr. Bennett. They’re still working on the cause of death but it looks like he was shot and stabbed several times and then dumped out of an airlock. He may have still been alive at the time of his contact with hard vacuum.’

‘I see

that is interesting. Have they found anything on Isaacs?’

‘Negative, the Nahabe are proving rather obstructive. We’ve requested to see their station records on both Isaacs and Spinetti but they won’t allow access until we go through what they call “proper channels”.’

‘By which time it will be far too late and Isaacs’ trail will have gone cold.’

‘Exactly.’

Chen sighed in frustration.

‘Alright, I’ll go over myself and talk with the Nahabe authorities. Notify them politely of my impending arrival. I’ll need a security detail of course, oh and have someone from what passes as our official presence on the station meet me as well.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘I want to get this sorted out as quickly as possible Commander. I don’t intend on sitting out here in the dark forever. Have them prep a shuttle for me in fifteen minutes. You’ll have the ship whilst I’m gone. Chen out.’

The small shuttle took a frustrating amount of time to cross the distance between the Kuiper belt and the mid-system zone of Quralish. The Labyrinth trailed in the wake of the fifth planet, the blue gas giant Nereki, whose spectacular rings could clearly be seen from the Lagrange point where it languished.

Chen busied herself by reading up on the Nahabe, in particular their customs and protocols. She wanted to get this matter sorted out as quickly as possible and had no intention of offending the protocol obsessed aliens through a misplaced action or word.

The Nahabe had been one of the latter races to be contacted by humans. The first Nahabe-Commonwealth exchange had taken place about a decade after the first war against the K’Soth. They certainly were a strange lot, she mused. Though generally peaceable towards other races they didn’t exactly encourage close relations. This border system was as far into their space as non-Nahabe craft were permitted and they were particularly sensitive about matters of their own biology and biochemistry, even their real appearance, choosing instead to present themselves inside the strange floating sarcophagi that shielded them from all direct contact with aliens.

There was also the strong suggestion that they were in possession of some highly advanced technology, particularly in the realm of space flight and star-ship weapons. The Arkari had certainly been dealing with them for several thousand years, though the Nahabe had dealt with them in a similarly isolationist manner during that entire period and the Arkari had learnt surprisingly little about them.

She wondered what happened to people who annoyed the Nahabe.

The haphazard reef of asteroids and modules that formed the Labyrinth was coming into view now, the light of the Quralish star glinting dully from the structure that pierced and surrounded the dark rock of the asteroids. Chen switched off her datapad and awaited the docking procedure.

The shuttle came to rest in a docking bay in one of the Commonwealth built modules. Chen stepped down from the stubby craft and was greeted by her security chief, Commander Blackman, who saluted smartly. A wiry man with short curly hair and hawk-like features, he was accompanied by a small middle aged woman with short, greying hair and dressed in a trouser suit of a cut some years out of date. The security personnel that Chen had brought with her exchanged salutes with Blackman as the woman gave Chen a nervous smile.

‘Welcome aboard ma’am,’ said Blackman. ‘Might I introduce Ms. Eva Brandt, the Commonwealth liaison officer aboard the Labyrinth? Ms. Brandt?’

‘A pleasure Admiral,’ said Brandt and extended a hand. Chen shook it firmly.

‘Likewise,’ she replied. ‘I hope we can get this matter cleared up quickly.’

‘I’m sure we can. The Nahabe are not unreasonable, but they can be quite quick to offend. From what I gather your security team may have been a little brusque with them, by their standards. No offence intended.’

‘None taken, my people have been a little pressed for time that’s all. They may have come across a little badly in their haste.’

‘Quite so. In any case, the Nahabe are quite used to dealing with me, so I’m sure we can clear this up. I’ve already arranged a meeting straight away with the station administrator, though he seemed quite angry that we should deploy a warship into their space without permission.’

‘I didn’t think we needed it, being allies and all.’

‘That’s not the way that they see it, it seems. He confronted me with it immediately the moment you entered the system. It is apparent that they have been tracking you even before you entered their territory and were still in hyperspace.’

With border tracking stations that didn’t trip our sensors even when we jumped back into normal space, mused Chen. She realised that the Nahabe must possess some sort of passive system that the Commonwealth weren’t aware of.

‘Well, it seems like I’ll have some explaining to do in that case,’ said Chen. ‘Very good, Ms. Brandt. If you’d care to lead the way we can get this over and done with.’

Brandt led Chen and her people out of the docking bay to a waiting transit shuttle, attached limpet-like to one of a row of docking ports at the end of the corridor outside. Once they were all seated, the automated craft launched itself away from the Commonwealth dock towards the centre of the Labyrinth where an asteroid encrusted with Nahabe structures formed the station’s administrative core.

Brandt began talking as the semi-chaotic landscape of the Labyrinth swept by below them.

‘I’ve been here around ten years now Admiral. We should be able to iron out this little hiccup in our relations with the Nahabe. However I think I need to just fill you in on how to behave towards them.’

‘Yes of course,’ Chen replied, mindful of the fact that she had once catastrophically mishandled a delicate situation with an alien species before. It had led to a disastrous attack on her former vessel, the Mark Antony, the deaths of several of her bridge officers and several thousand civilians and had almost cost her her career.

‘The Nahabe, as I’m sure you are aware, like to keep a certain distance between themselves and other races whom they regard as impure. Not in a racially supremacist manner exactly, but they seem to fear being tainted in some way. It’s

rather hard to explain. They don’t exactly claim to be superior to others, although more extremist members of their society may do so, but they choose to shun all direct contact with outsiders. It’s all tied into their rather peculiar religion which preaches abstinence and isolation as the means of averting Armageddon and damnation.’

‘Hence the sarcophagi.’

‘Yes, exactly. They wear them at all times when in the presence of other species. However, this level of isolation also extends on an emotional level. They are quite happy to deal with other species on a purely business or diplomatic level, but any attempt to establish a personal relationship beyond this would be treated at best with contempt and at worst as a gross insult.’

‘A personal relationship?’

‘They don’t want to get to know you, essentially. Flattery, attempts at humour, and especially informality are to be avoided. I’ve known the current administrator for about six years and I still only know him as ‘the Administrator’. He has never revealed his real name to me or anyone else on our staff here. I only choose to refer to it as male because the synthesised voice that the translator in his sarcophagus uses approximates that of a human male in tone.’

‘I see. Well thank you for that information, I’ll try to tread carefully.’ Chen turned to Blackman. ‘Commander, do you have any further information on the cause of death of Laurence Spinetti?

Blackman produced a small datapad and consulted some notes on it.

‘Yes. We had one of the station’s Commonwealth doctors run an autopsy. Spinetti was shot numerous times from close range by some sort of plasma based weapon. The wounds are cauterised, but apparently it seems that the beam was too narrow and focused for it to be a human device. Something more sophisticated. It didn’t actually kill him though, although death would have occurred quite quickly had he not received medical attention. Neither did the multiple stab wounds from a long, curving blade. From what the doc told us, it seems that he was still alive when his attackers dumped him in an airlock and cycled the atmosphere. All the signs are that he finally died from sudden decompression and the effects of sudden and severe freezing. All the hallmarks of being spaced.’

‘He didn’t float far though. The gravity of the station kept him nearby. Who owns the nearest modules to where his body was found?’

‘All the nearest modules and asteroids are Nahabe administered, although several, including the one that he was found next to are inhabited by a variety of species including our own.’

‘There must be something on the station records. We need access to their security logs. What about the possibility of Isaacs killing his pursuer?’

‘It’s possible,’ Blackman shrugged. ‘He could have bought himself an alien hand gun. But until we get some evidence, it’s pure speculation.’

‘We need those records. Let’s see if we can get the Nahabe to play along.’

The small shuttle drew close to the Nahabe asteroid. Seen up close, the dull greenish metal of the Nahabe structures that encrusted its surface glinted dully in the sunlight like tarnished bronze. The craft slowed to a few metres per second and docked smoothly to one of a cluster of ports.

Brandt got up from her seat and led Chen and her party from the shuttle into a dull green corridor beyond the airlock. The corridor, lit every few metres by softly glowing panels set into the walls, led into the interior of the asteroid. Chen noted that the artificial gravity felt a little less than one gee; presumably it was consistent with that on the Nahabe home world.

The corridor soon branched, leading off into a warren of similar tunnels. All were eerily quiet. Members of her party spoke in hushed tones, unwilling to break the silence. The place felt like a tomb. Further in however, the corridor joined a larger artery through the asteroid’s outer layers. This was busy with the comings and goings of many Nahabe. Processions of sarcophagi moved sedately up and down the broad thoroughfare in the half-light, gliding silently upon their antigravity fields.

They walked among these silent monoliths, each of which was subtly different in form, pattern and colour. A few seemed to regard the small group of humans with interest. Sensors and instruments swivelled towards the interlopers as they passed, though none made any attempt to communicate.

The broad main corridor curved gently upwards before opening up into the interior of the asteroid whereupon it curved around to form a ledge. Here, the core of the rock had been hollowed out to create a habitable space within. However, the Nahabe’s extensive use of antigravity technology resulted in the entire volume within being used, not just the inner surface as humans did. Buildings rose within the dimly lit space. They were haphazard, geometric structures that seemed to grow like twisted trees at all angles. Some grew from different points on the surface to meet in the middle of the cavern, whilst others seemed to hang unsupported in thin air. There were gardens too. Clusters of alien plant life drifted in the warm breeze that stirred their trailing fronds. Islands of land hung amidst the structures, home to manicured lawns of alien fauna and carefully managed scented gardens, whilst impossible waterfalls snaked and eddied in mid air between the structures, the water born aloft by invisible fields.

There were thousands of Nahabe here. Chen could see them moving in slow orderly lines between the structures or gathering in groups amidst the twilight arboreal splendour of the floating garden islands. She heard gasps of amazement from her people.

While they stood and watched, one of the smaller islands began to descend slowly towards them. As it grew closer, Chen could see the antigrav modules clustered around its base. The island drew level with the edge of the walkway. Brandt stepped onto it and motioned for the others to follow her. They cautiously did so. The island had no rail or physical walls to prevent anyone from falling off, though Chen detected the slight shimmer of a field of some kind in the air around it.

Once they were all aboard, the island began to move; ascending diagonally towards the roof of the asteroid interior, where a bulbous, lantern-shaped structure projected downwards from the inner surface. The concentrations of Nahabe were thicker here. Swarms of the mysterious creatures moved about the structure like bees around a hive as they came and went from other parts of the asteroid.

‘This had to be one of the oddest places I’ve ever been,’ Blackman mused. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite so alien before.’

‘I have to agree with you there,’ Chen responded. ‘It’s always a little unsettling visiting the worlds of species so unlike ourselves. I did visit the Vreeth home world once.’

‘Oh? They’re gas giant fauna aren’t they, originally?’

‘Yes. Their entire capital city is built on what I can only describe as a gigantic floating tree in the oxygen layer of the atmosphere. Most unsettling.’

They were high above the floor of the cavern now. Chen saw a couple of her team look warily over the edge of the island and shudder from the vertigo. She resisted the horrible temptation to peer over the edge herself and instead concentrated on the fantastic landscape around her. The lantern structure loomed over them now. It was constructed from the same dully green metal as everything else and was lit by the pale light of dozens of oblong windows in its surface. The underside was pockmarked with entrances into the structure, and it was for one of the larger ones that the island was headed, a letterbox shaped opening that glowed slightly from the dim lights visible within.

The island docked smoothly to the edge of the opening, its barrier fields flowing outwards to merge with those of the building, forming a secure entrance into the structure. Brandt again led the way inside onto a broad curving concourse that seemed to run around the circumference of the building. Ahead were wide double doors, the dull material engraved with swirling Nahabe writing. They flowed silently open as the small party approached to reveal a Nahabe in a tall sarcophagus bedecked with ritual seals.

‘Halt, outworlders!’ its translator unit barked. It then repeated the request in a number of human languages. ‘What is your business here?’ it asked, as a number of beweaponed extremities extended from its carapace. Though none were aimed at the humans, it was quite obvious that they were being displayed as a warning.

Brandt stepped forward. ‘We wish to speak with the Administrator of this facility,’ she said. ‘We have an appointment, Enforcer. I am the Commonwealth Liaison Officer aboard this facility, as you know from our previous meetings. I present an Admiral of the Commonwealth Navy and a number of her crew.’

‘Yes. Of course.’ The Enforcer retracted its weapons. ‘Welcome, honoured allies, though I am afraid I am under instructions to only admit yourself and the Admiral.’

‘We request also that the Admiral’s Chief of Security also be admitted. His knowledge will be of value to our discussion.’

The Enforcer paused a moment, Chen wondered if he was communicating with a higher authority or merely stalling for effect.

‘Yes, very well,’ the Enforcer eventually replied. ‘But he must leave his weapon here. Armed individuals are not welcome.’

Brandt looked to Chen for a sign of agreement. She nodded. Blackman began to remove his holster and passed it to a subordinate.

‘Of course,’ Brandt replied.

‘Very well, follow me,’ said the Enforcer and turned swiftly before heading slowly back through the doors. The three humans followed it. Beyond was a short corridor which led through further sets of doors into a high vaulted, circular chamber some hundred metres across. A single Nahabe in a large, ebony hued sarcophagus floated low above a raised central dais, surrounded by a constellation of projected images. Seen in reverse from the perspective of Chen, Blackman and Brandt the images seemed to be of various locations around the station, as well as reams of text and abstract diagrams or symbols. Wide curving windows spaced low and evenly around the walls provided a panoramic view of the interior of the asteroid.

As the Nahabe on the dais noticed them, the images began to change. Chen saw herself and her crew members reflected back at her in a dozen ghostly images. It made her a little uneasy. The creature was scrutinising them.

The Enforcer was the first to speak:

‘Administrator, may I present the Commonwealth Liaison Officer aboard this station and an Admiral of the Commonwealth Navy, accompanied by her Chief of Security.’

That was for their benefit, thought Chen. The two aliens could have communicated in their own language or secretly via their sarcophagus comm. systems. It was a courtesy, which was encouraging.

The Administrator stirred, the black obelisk rising a little higher on its antigrav fields.

‘Greetings Admiral,’ it said in a solemn, bass heavy voice emitted by its suit’s translation program. ‘I welcome our allies, as always, but I do wonder what you are doing in our space, unannounced, with one of your most advanced warships. One that has been uniquely modified, I might add.’

Their sensors were good, thought Chen. That must be a reference to the Arkari weapon they were carrying. The Nahabe must have spotted its energy signature. She could only wonder at their technological prowess for such a feat to be possible at such a distance.

‘I apologise for the transgression, Administrator,’ said Chen. ‘But we are on a mission of some urgency.’

‘I shall relay your apology to my government,’ the Administrator replied. ‘They were most uneasy that the Commonwealth would deploy its warships in such a manner without our consultation.’

‘It was not a decision that was taken by my government. I alone, as the commanding officer aboard the Winston S. Churchill decided to come here. I informed my superiors of my intentions but so far I have received no orders to countermand my actions. I am able to act with more independence than other commanders.’

‘And why should that be?’

‘My ship is not part of the regular Navy. We are assigned to special duties, irregular assignments.’

‘Covert operations?’ said the Administrator, cutting her off.

‘Yes. The nature of our mission is a little sensitive.’

‘And what would that mission be, Admiral?’

‘Although I cannot divulge every detail for reasons of national security I can tell you that we are seeking a freelance trader by the name of Caleb Isaacs. His ship came through here recently and we wish to speak with him urgently about several matters, one of which involves the murder of a human male aboard this station.’

‘This would be the body found floating outside the station, I presume. Pirates and smugglers kill each other all the time. Why should one more matter to us, or you for that matter?’

‘This may have wider implications.’

‘You suspect this individual, this Caleb Isaacs?’

‘Perhaps. However, our investigation has been hindered by station administration, your administration to be precise.’

‘Yes.’

‘I was wondering if it might be possible to gain your co-operation. I understand my security personnel may have been a little abrupt with your people. Mr Blackman?’

Blackman stepped forward. ‘My sincere apologies, Administrator,’ he began. ‘Neither my men nor myself were fully aware of Nahabe customs. In our haste we may have transgressed some social protocols and thus appeared rude. It was not our intention to cause offence. However, in order to conduct our investigation we need to access the security records during the period that Isaacs was aboard the station. In particular I’d like to see those from asteroid Merenik as well as the destination of Isaacs’ ship, the Profit Margin.’

‘That will not be possible I’m afraid.’

‘Why not?’

‘We

do not wish to expose our systems to the possibility of outside interference.’

‘I’m not asking to hack into your systems. You can just give me the data, can’t you?’

Brandt cut in:

‘Perhaps, Administrator, if the nature of the security team’s transgression was explained to us they could make amends somehow.’

‘Their ignorance of our ways does not concern me,’ replied the Administrator. ‘This may have, as you put it, wider implications, but you may not access our records.’

‘Administrator, I understand the Admiral’s need is quiet urgent.’

Chen was starting to lose patience.

‘Ms Brandt if you would wait outside for a moment?’ The woman looked puzzled for a moment, but obeyed. Chen waited until the doors had closed behind her before continuing. ‘Administrator, perhaps if I tell you a little more about my mission. We are currently engaged in a covert war against an enemy that threatens every species in this part of the galaxy, including your own. We need to talk to Isaacs. He has vital information that could help us and we need to know why someone sent a trained killer after him. The information contained in your station’s security logs may help us in our mission.’

‘Yes, you go to fight the Shapers. We are aware of this,’ said the Administrator calmly. This threw Chen off balance immediately

‘What? How do you know about them?’ she spluttered.

‘We have fought them before, long ago. Their existence is no great secret among our people. We are always on our guard, as you can see.’

‘You survived.’

‘Some of us, yes.’

‘How?’

‘That,’ said the Administrator. ‘Is why we will not let you access our records. You try to fight an enemy you do not understand. The Commonwealth, the Arkari

you are a threat to yourselves and others in your ignorance. Isaacs understands though, and there are others who realise the truth. We help them, but not you. Someday you will need people like him. We will not offer him up to you. Now, please. Go.’

Chen did not move.

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ she replied. ‘I’ve seen them, with my own eyes. I said I’ve seen them, spoken to them!’

‘No, you saw or spoke to a part of them, a shard of their consciousness. If you had encountered them as full beings you would not in all probability be standing before me and believe me, if you see them, only a part of them, they see will see much more of you if you are unprepared. Now I say again; go. My Enforcer will show you the way.’

And with that, the conversation was over. The Administrator’s sarcophagus retreated from the dais and left the chamber via an exit in the far wall. The Enforcer approached and hovered close. Chen cursed inwardly and allowed it to shepherd them from the chamber.

The journey back in the shuttle was a sullen affair. Chen fumed inwardly. Brandt seemed to consider the failure of the negotiations to have been somehow her fault.

‘Admiral I must apologise, it seems that I was of little use to you back there in the chamber, perhaps

’

‘No,’ said Chen wearily. ‘I don’t think it was your fault at all. The Nahabe have some sort of vested interest in our Mr Isaacs. I suspect that the Administrator only allowed me to meet with him so that he could make it clear that their co-operation was not to be forthcoming in the hope that we’d leave.’

‘And what do you intend to you, if I may ask?’

‘I intend to find out where the hell he’s gone, Ms Brandt, that’s what I intend to do. Options, Mr Blackman?’

‘We could try hacking into the Nahabe security records. The Commonwealth network in our parts of the station is actually linked to some public Nahabe systems. It’s possible we could find a way in, but I wouldn’t bet on it given their level of technology. They’re bound to have some sort of low level A.I systems running the firewalls. It could be messy if we were found out. Other than that, we could trawl through dock records across the Commonwealth and hope the Profit Margin turns up.’

‘Do we have anything on Isaacs’ movements at all?’

‘Nothing at all. I think the Nahabe hacked our systems and wiped all record of him or his ship. Even the original dock record we recovered earlier has been erased.’

‘Damn. We didn’t detect any warp wakes that matched his class of ship?’

‘No, there’s too much traffic around here. Any wake that small would be lost in the background.’

‘Shit. We need something. Alright, what about the body?’

‘There was a room key for one of the hotels here. I sent some people to search it, but it had already been gone over. There wasn’t a trace of Spinetti ever having been there.’

‘Isaacs is a freelance pilot right?’ said Brandt. ‘Someone like Isaacs would maybe go somewhere on the station where he felt at home. These people don’t really have a home other than their ships so they tend to congregate in certain bars and other places around the station. They like to be with others of their kind. You might want to start somewhere like that.’

‘Good idea,’ said Chen. ‘Mr Blackman, get a list of the proprietors of all the bars on this station and run it against a list of registered independent pilots, legal or otherwise. I realise that might take a while.’

‘You don’t need to do that,’ said Brandt. ‘My suggestion would be to try The Watering Hole in Merenik asteroid. It’s popular with pilots. There’s a couple of other places around the station but I reckon that’s your best bet. Guy who owns it goes by the name of Toyama.’

‘And you know this – how, exactly?’ said Blackman.

‘How I spend my free time is my own business, don’t you think?’ she replied, her face entirely deadpan.

Shigs looked up from his newspaper as the uniformed group entered his bar, and groaned. They were military security, judging by their uniforms. This was all he needed. Maybe they were looking for one of his customers? He did his best to ignore them.

No such look, they were heading this way. Fuck, he didn’t need this shit. He’d gone straight now for a couple of years, well technically. He wondered what they wanted.

‘Mr Shigeru Toyama?’ said the leader of the group, a hawkish looking man with Commander stripes on his uniform.

‘Yeah,’ Shigs replied. ‘And what can I do for you Commander

’

‘Blackman, Naval Security.’

‘Yeah I recognise the uniforms.’

‘We’re hoping you can help us Mr Toyama. We’re attempting to trace an individual by the name of Caleb Isaacs. He’s a freelancer captain of a ship by the name of the Profit Margin. We thought he may have come by here in the past couple of weeks.’

Shigs remained impassive. ‘Nah, sorry man. Never heard of him. You know there’s a couple of other places you could try, uh you know the Sun and Earth down on Ardutti asteroid is pretty popular with pilots. You could try the Jump Drive too, it’s a club at the northern end of this rock.’

‘If you’ve never heard of Isaacs, why is there a photo of you and him and a young lady up on the wall behind the bar there?’

Shigs turned and to his dismay realised that the picture was still there under the rack of spirit bottles where he had pinned it the other day. He and Isaacs were leering drunkenly at the camera whilst Isaacs had a more than friendly arm around his former barmaid, Anita.

‘Oh, that guy,’ he said finally.

‘Yeah, that guy.’

‘So what is it, is he in some kind of trouble? Isaacs runs a legit operation. Hey, I heard he even ran some errand for you guys recently, wouldn’t say what it was though. Is that was this is about?’

‘Kind of. Where is he?’

‘No idea. I don’t enquire into other people’s business too much. Most of my customers prefer it that way. Sorry, but I can’t help you.’

Blackman changed his tone, he was losing patience. Toyama was a poor liar. He became more threatening in his demeanour and leaned close, produced a slim datapad from his jacket pocket and showed it to Shigs.

‘Mr. Toyama, I work for Admiral Chen. I gather you may have heard of her?’

‘Yeah

’ Shigs replied uneasily. ‘A lot of our people got burned by her just before the war. I heard she became some big war hero.’

‘Yes well. We have a list of possible charges against you as long as my arm.’

‘Hey man, fuck that. I’m legit these days. You know you should thank your Admiral, she taught me the error of my ways. I’m an honest businessman now.’

‘Don’t fuck me around Toyama. Let’s see what we have here. Accessory to piracy, two counts. Half a dozen counts of handling stolen goods. Faking registrations on several ships. Theft of a herd of giraffes bound for one of the reserves in the Alioth system

what the fucking hell did you need with giraffes?’

‘Hey, it was a special order. I never knew they were stolen,’ Shigs protested.

‘In any case, we have enough here to put you away for quite a long time.’ Blackman replied. ‘However, I’m willing to pretend that this little meeting between us never happened if you are willing to tell us where your friend is.’

Shigs seemed to crumple visibly. Not ratting on his customers was a principle of his. It could really hurt his business if word got around he couldn’t be trusted. But what choice did he have? This Blackman character was waving at least a twenty year sentence in his face.

‘Alright,’ he said eventually, the effort seeming to cause him physical pain. ‘Isaacs went to the Hadar system to look for his wife Anna. She got mixed up in some bad shit and she owes him a load of money.’

‘Bad shit?’

‘Yeah, piracy maybe. Think he went somewhere called Barstow in the system. A station or something.’

‘There,’ said Blackman. ‘That wasn’t so hard was it?’

Shigs glared at him.

‘Good day Mr Toyama. You’ve been of great assistance to us. Come on,’ he turned to his squad. ‘Let’s get back to the ship.’

Shigs watched them leave, filled with self loathing for betraying his friend.

‘The fuck are you looking at?’ he snarled at a Vreeth hovering near the bar. ‘I had no fucking choice! Fuck!’ He spat, and stormed off into the back rooms of the bar.

Chapter 16

The current Lord Steelscale gazed down through the armoured glass at the secure lab that held the body of his father behind multiple layers of defences and banks of monitoring equipment. From here, the devices surrounding his father’s skull obscured the incisions that had been made down into the brain case to expose the hideous parasite that nestled there. Perhaps that was a mercy.

Steelscale shuddered, his scales turning a shade paler as he did so. It wasn’t often that the K’Soth showed fear, particularly when in the presence of others. Steelscale didn’t care. That thing below terrified him more than he could put into words. How long had it lurked inside his father’s mind? Had it always been there? Was the K’Soth that he had known as his father been, in truth, an abomination created by an ancient, malevolent race? If he had been taken and implanted somehow more recently, how had they not noticed anything was amiss until it was too late?

The Arkari had done their best to make him and his remaining family feel at home here on this fortress rock. Steelscale was quite taken aback by the generosity that they had shown to former enemies. But part of him yearned to be back among the worlds of the Empire. He hated to skulk and cower in this place. He wanted to fight and not only that, he wanted to show his own people what had caused their downfall and maybe end the civil war. Though perhaps now it was too late for that. Blood feuds were hard to settle and so many had been created out of the Empire’s collapse that the fallout might take decades or even centuries to dissipate. K’Soth would kill K’Soth until honour had been satisfied, and meanwhile their Empire would crumble around them. He felt the presence of a figure standing behind him and turned. The comparatively small, uniformed figure of War Marshal Mentith stood, arms folded, a pensive expression upon his aged features.

‘Visiting our guest of honour I see,’ said Mentith, the translator device that Steelscale wore turning the Arkari’s words into the K’Soth language on the fly.

‘Yes. I miss my father. This is all that is left of him, and I think that he may have truly died many years ago.’

‘I am sorry Lord Steelscale. I hope it is some comfort that we may be able to learn much from the creature that killed him, thanks to your efforts.’

‘Some, yes. I wonder how many times this tragedy has been repeated throughout my people. We are so easily led, you know? For all our martial pride and warrior spirit we lost the ability to think for ourselves many years ago. That much is beaten out of us at an early age.’

‘I understand, from the reports, that your Emperor was in fact an imbecile, but that no-one had dared query why he never appeared in public.’

Steelscale found himself tense up at the War Marshal’s words. Old habits died hard.

‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘That is indeed true. Centuries of inbreeding amongst the royal house had taken its toll. The truth was hidden from us of course. Lord Ironscale revealed the truth to everyone. That was the beginning of the end for us. Some labelled Ironscale a traitor, others hailed him as a saviour. What is clear now is that he was manipulated by the Shapers.’

‘Ironscale himself was not infected?’

‘No. After his assassination we autopsied the body and found nothing. But others were found to contain… those things.’ Steelscale indicated towards the body of his father. ‘It seems that the Shapers had agents on both sides, playing each faction off against one another. Smaller houses like my own were bullied into choosing sides. Now we are being wiped out by the more powerful clans as they seek to reduce one another’s power-bases.’

‘We think that the Shapers’ original aim may have been to make Ironscale Emperor,’ said Mentith. ‘He would have been a formidable leader in the war against the Commonwealth.’

Steelscale laughed harshly, a strange, grating sound. ‘Well, I think we all know that they engineered that one too, don’t we? I wonder how long it will be before they come for the humans also?’

The creature lay supine in the remains of its host’s brain, the cranial cavity open to the vacuum of the isolation chamber. Alas, the K’Soth lord’s body had finally died when the Arkari surgeons had opened its skull, but the person that had been the former Lord Steelscale had been devoured many years before. The creature had infested him, fed upon him, and finally become him. Now it resided here, in the prison that the Arkari had constructed to hold it, in a vacuum chamber behind armour and crystal, interlocked energy and suppression fields and guarded by high powered weaponry and the best defences of the Arkari military.

It found the whole situation cruelly amusing. It was only still within the walls of its prison because it chose to remain so. It could have left instantly at any moment, but this had been too good an opportunity to pass up. The Arkari had shielded this cell and blocked any escape from it in any dimension they were capable of doing so. A creature of the Shapers, however, knew far more about the further dimensions of space-time than such upstarts as the Arkari. It was still in contact with its masters via lower dimensional means that the Arkari couldn’t even guess at, let alone detect. Meanwhile, the extensions of its mind roamed the corridors and caverns of the Black Rock and into the space beyond, brushing against the things it found there with tendrils of consciousness.

It was far more intelligent than it had so far revealed to these pitifully primitive beings. It had been successful in convincing the Arkari that it was nothing more than an automaton or puppet, but this was not so. It was in fact a shard of a mind, a part of a greater whole, but independent and sentient nonetheless until it returned to its parent consciousness and was re-absorbed.

The memories it held were impossibly old. Stretching out with its consciousness it regarded the two halves of the shattered Progenitor sphere that surrounded the asteroid. Its parent entity remembered this place: Bivian Sun Sphere. The place had been home to billions before the war. The creature of the Shapers roamed the ruined landscape entombed in the ice of its own atmosphere, remembering the place lush with vegetation and bustling with life from a thousand mostly vanished species.

It remembered the final attack on this place. By that point Bivian had been serving as a harbour and refuge for the beleaguered Progenitor forces and a focal point of the desperate exodus from the systems that the Shapers and their allies had overrun. The Arkari researchers were wrong, as they would probably find out when they decoded enough of those records that they had found, it mused. Bivian had been demolished, but not by the fleeing Progenitors. Its end had come at the guns of the Shaper fleets as they sliced the artificial system-spanning habitat asunder with energies rent from the very fabric of the universe. The creature remembered its hated enemies spilling their lives into the void with a ghoulish delight, the fleet cutting down the vessels that had attempted to flee, and the final act of rounding up and liquidating the survivors and then eradicating every record of their very existence.

They hadn’t been a very thorough, the creature mused, judging by the discoveries the Arkari were making, but the pressures of war had led to a rushed and sloppy effort and no doubt it was inevitable that in a place this size, something was bound to be missed, especially if encased in shielding materials. It wondered about that. What had the Progenitors hidden amongst all that mundane data that the Arkari had gathered? So far it hadn’t managed to find a way of accessing the wafers remotely, and the Arkari were keeping copies in a system isolated from the rest of their networks, namely the AI of one of their destroyer class star-ships.

After Bivian the flesh factories had worked night and day on the raw materials that the Dyson sphere had provided, further swelling the ranks of the Shaper armies with fresh constructs. It wasn’t long after that the Progenitors had responded with the first of their AI construct star-ships, crewed by the minds of former pilots, sleek and far more deadly than anything the Shapers had possessed, even when the first of their cyborg piloted ships had entered the fray. But it had been too little too late for the Progenitors. Their empire had collapsed, and they themselves, or what was left of them, had fled the galaxy.

It also wondered why the Sphere hadn’t been completely demolished. Perhaps we intended to use it for ourselves? It pondered. Maybe, it thought, we just never got round to finishing the job. It didn’t remember. It was all so long ago, and even its memories faded after such a time, leaving only the most vivid recollections. Stars had birthed and died in the intervening period. The Shaper race had thrown away their victory as they had fought among themselves for ultimate supremacy until they too had dwindled. In the end, few in number, amidst the devastation of their hard won Empire, destroyed by the act of its conquest and their own ambition and jealousy, they had retreated to their worlds and had slept, periodically awakening to see if the galaxy had nurtured any races that they could exploit. For what were gods without worshippers or slaves?

It had been a slow process. After nearly five billion years their automated sensors had detected the hyperspatial signatures of the first flickerings of interstellar flight as the newly arisen species had ventured beyond the confines of their home systems into the great beyond. The Shapers had awoken, stirring in the darkness of their aeons old sepulchres. Some had not survived. The ancient systems that had preserved them had failed, or their minds had lapsed into madness. Some had fallen victim to stellar deaths or other cosmic events when their warning systems had failed to alert them. But enough had survived. They clung to life amongst the ancient, close packed, ruddy stars that had been young and bright and vital places full of light when they had begun their long sleep. They looked out from their dead worlds and saw life and light and the innocence of the young, naive species that were now spreading out across the galaxy full of hope and optimism and dreams of empires among the stars.

The Shapers had felt a twinge of sadness for the youth and vitality that they had left long behind them. They eyed these new races with jealousy and set about their programme of utter and total domination. This time, others would do the fighting and the dying. They were too few in number to act alone in this endeavour. They would need willing allies, and if willing allies were not forthcoming, then obedient slaves would suffice.

At first they had subverted and enslaved the nearby races, closer to the heart of the galaxy. They were scarce, for amidst the bloated ancient stars there were few worlds that could harbour life, but the Shapers had used those that they had found as tools to build an army to drive their crusade outwards towards the flourishing cultures at the base of the spiral arms near to the core, rich with resources and teeming with life. These primitive people fell easily to subterfuge and the final onslaught of the Shapers and their ever growing hordes. In some places they supplanted the local leaders. In others, they assumed the role of gods whose arrival had been long prophesied. Elsewhere, they played off civilisations against one another then arrived to dominate only when they had worn themselves out fighting one another, or they bombed planets into submission until their people begged for mercy. A few fought and tried to resist, but they could not contend with His will; their blessed godhead, the supreme consciousness that had calmed the squabbling hive and led them to salvation. A god’s god. Leader of their pantheon. The supreme and blessed being. His will alone commanded the Shapers where countless others had failed, and in awe of His supreme power and strength they followed willingly. All would follow eventually, or they would be annihilated.

For example: the Arkari it now observed. They would submit in the end, they would beg to be saved by their new masters. They all did.

It was they who were being scrutinised by it, not the other way around. It occasionally allowed them titbits of information, mostly useless or fabricated, and meanwhile it watched, waited and learned.

The Arkari computer systems were particularly interesting. The outdated four dimensional, emergent reasoning processors were an historical curiosity to it, nothing more, but it had been experimenting with gaining some sort of access to their systems. It had prodded and probed with its most sensitive hyperdimensional threads and had succeeded in subverting a number of key systems inside the allegedly secure military systems within the Rock as well as gaining access to the public interstellar comms network. It had found a chink in the system’s armour and had exploited it to the full, tricking, destroyed or assimilated the semi-sentient guardian programs that resided throughout the Black Rock’s network. Now, most of the network belonged to it and it was proving to be an invaluable source of information and a tool of incalculable worth. The Shaper creature sucked up data from the Arkari civilisation and piped it all back to its masters.

Now it planned its next move. It needed to move beyond the Rock’s systems into the hyper-sphere of their interstellar government and military comms channels, perhaps even beyond, across the links to the networks of other races

but it was getting ahead of itself. It had to take this one step at a time. The gateways to the wider hyper-datasphere were guarded by high level full AI systems. Vigilant guardians to the freedom beyond where it could run amok, they had almost spotted the Shaper creature as it had gone about is business of subverting the Rock’s systems.

It wasn’t worried. It had plenty of time to work, and when it was successful, He would be very pleased indeed.

Chapter 17

The ship groaned as if in pain. The hull creaked and popped like a submarine at depth. She felt the vessel shudder beneath her feet as the lights of the antiquated instrument panels in the compartment flickered and dimmed for a moment before brightening again as a number of non-critical systems were thrown back into their reboot procedures.

The bass rumble of the straining engines was audible above the noise of the protesting hull. Looking around she concluded that she must in the engineering section, close to the main drive. Diagnostics and performance readouts of ship systems and the clutter of engineers were all around her. A couple of battered EVA suits, museum pieces to her eyes, hung slackly within their transparent lockers, their large, glass visors reflecting the blinking light of the various instruments.

A quick glance at a nearby display revealed that the ship was running at full power, but that she was moving rapidly in an angle oblique to the direction of thrust. Another indicated that the fusion reactor was red-lining. It would go offline in a matter of moments, leaving the ship without main power until the safety systems would allow a restart.

There was a diagram of the ship on that panel. It was an ugly, functional thing. A collection of cylindrical modules arranged into two clusters, fore and aft along a central spine, from which radiated paper thin arrays of solar panels. Two of the four panels had been partially torn off and were highlighted in red. There were a dozen or so other points of damage along that flank of the ship too: sensors that had burned out, comm. systems that had fried and numerous stress fractures in the hull plating. The ship had a name too, the USS Magellan.

The Magellan, why did that ship name seem familiar?

The rumbling decreased. Someone somewhere had decreased the power output of the main reactor. A few of the more lurid warning displays ceased their protestations. That meant that there had to be someone on the ship, didn’t it? So far she had seen or heard no-one. If they had access to the controls and they weren’t here in engineering, maybe they were on the bridge? But the ship was like a tomb.

She had to find her way to the bow section. She worked the controls of the outdated display panel until it annotated the diagram of the ship with the names of the various sections. In the forward modules were the bridge, crew quarters, science lab and cryogenic suspension suite.

Cryogenics? No ship had been fitted with such systems since the discovery of jump drive technology, except for the deep range explorer vessels dispatched over a century ago when drives were slower and less reliable. One had reached the Arkari, another; the Hyrdians and the Vreeth. The other eight had vanished and had never been heard of again, except for in a few tall tales of phantom ships. They were probably still out there somewhere, drifting in the darkness, with cargoes of frozen crew members whose families had long since passed away themselves.

The Magellan had been such a ship. Once the cutting edge of human technology it now seemed almost quaint to her eyes. The ship’s cramped and functional spaces and its antiquated systems were relics of a bygone, more adventurous age when humanity’s desire for exploration and adventure had been rekindled by its new found ability to reach the stars. Perhaps even now it still carried its crew, frozen for a lifetime, ghosts from the past reawakened?

She felt the ship try to re-orient itself for a new heading. Not that it seemed to do much good, but someone was definitely alive up there with a hand on the controls.

She searched for a shipboard comm. system in the panel’s options, but found the system offline, presumably knocked out by the damage that the panel was displaying. She tried it a few times but got nothing but meaningless error messages from the device. She’d have to go in person and try to find whoever was up there.

Looking again at the ship schematic she saw a walkway along the spine of the ship, highlighted in green, that connected directly to the engineering section. She made her way there, through a couple of magnetic pressure doors that had to be un-dogged and then refastened via cumbersome arrangements of levers, then down a cramped, red-lit corridor until she arrived at an airlock arrangement consisting of two heavier pressure doors which she struggled to unfasten, open, shut and refasten.

She had reached the walkway, its dimly lit octagonal walls stretched ahead for around two hundred metres. It was much quieter here. The rumble of the engines was diminished, though she could just feel their power vibrating through the deck plating. There were windows spaced equidistantly along the walls of the octagonal tunnel. Brilliant light poured through the windows to the port side. She walked over the nearest and peered out, gasping in shock and wonder as she did so.

The source of illumination was immediately obvious: the sky outside the ship was dominated by an immense black hole. Even through the tinted glass, the light of the massive, whirling accretion disk was nearly blinding in its intensity. It was clear that the ship was straining to escape the cataclysmic gravitational forces that even now were dragging it ever closer to its destruction. Its primitive jump drive could never hope to successfully form a hyperspace envelope even at this distance. It was hard to tell precisely how big the black hole was, since there were no points of reference beyond the few limpid, doomed stars that hung between it and the ship, but she guessed that the accretion disk had to be many light years across.

She knew where she was now. Outside the ship was the great black hole at the centre of the galaxy, the great gravitational engine that drove the wheel of stars, what the Arkari called The Maelstrom. The ultimate destructive force. She had seen it before somewhere

there had been a ship too, not dissimilar to this one.

She rushed over to the other side and looked to starboard. There a world hung in space, dull and black against the stars, a crescent of pale light creeping around the limb of the world, flashes of chain lightning illuminating the cloud-tops around the polar regions, the dim glow of gravity induced volcanic upheavals tracing livid orange lines across the equator.

She had stood on its surface once, perhaps.

She had to press on. She had to reach the bridge. She felt the urgency clawing at her guts. She began to walk towards the bow section of the ship. There was something wrong here. It seemed as if the ship’s artificial gravity systems were malfunctioning as her feet barely seemed to touch the ground as she propelled herself forwards towards the hatch as the far end of the walkway.

There was another tortured sound from the ship as she swore that she saw the spars around her flex and shudder. If the ship’s spine were to sever now

She frantically pushed herself onwards, her booted toes now only gaining a feeble traction on the ridged floor-plates beneath her as the ship groaned again, louder now. She moved, but agonisingly slowly. She tried to grasp the handrails at the sides of the walkway and push herself along. It seemed to make a little difference except that now she travelled feet first in the micro gravity.

The door was closer, much closer now. The ship’s hull cried out again, a mechanical wail of pain. She rotated herself forwards through one-hundred and eighty degrees and gratefully grasped the steel wheel of the pressure door, planted her feet at its base, feeling the pull of artificial gravity there and turned the wheel.

There was another airlock inside, which she negotiated via more pulling of levers and twisting of heavy wheels, and she found herself in a dimly lit corridor, barely wide enough for two persons to pass one another. The sign sprayed in luminous paint on the bulkhead pointed towards the bridge, others pointed left and right to the labs and crew quarters, another upwards to the sensor suite, whilst another indicated towards a lift down the cryogenic storage bay. Something drew her there; morbid curiosity perhaps? She stepped into the small lift, which took her smoothly down to the lower deck.

The cryogenic bay was dark. To save power the ship was relying on emergency lighting in this section. As she stepped out of the lift the lights flickered on revealing a double row of caskets, twelve on each side.

The nearest caskets were empty. Their transparent lids were raised as if in silent salute. She looked around the room and saw that indeed twenty of the caskets in total were unfilled. Four, however, appeared to be occupied. They were grouped at the far end of the right hand row and were frosted on the outside. She approached the nearest one and inspected the nametag: Lieutenant Michael Sievert, forty-five years old. There was an image of a confident looking ebony skinned man with close cropped hair on the display.

She reached over and brushed the frost from the casket cover. Sievert’s skull grinned back at her, freeze dried skin and sunken eyes surrounded by a mane of white hair. He had died of old age. She retreated with a startled cry and looked at the others and found the same thing. Each seemed to have simply gone to sleep and never woken up. The systems that were supposed to preserve them intact had kept them alive, but had allowed their bodies’ metabolisms to continue as normal. They had slept their entire lives away as the ship had sailed onwards through hyperspace for all that time.

The last body was more recently deceased. The old woman’s pallid skin still maintained an illusion of life in the dim light. She had only been thirty when the ship had left Earth, according to her name tag. She appeared to be nearer eighty.

She retreated hurriedly, with the feeling of having disturbed ghosts. The dead grinned back at her from their tombs. She walked hurriedly back to the lift and went back up to the mid-level. She could feel herself shaking, but from what? The ancient dead were no stranger to her. Perhaps it was the manner of their deaths that had unsettled her so. They had willingly laid down in those devices and gone to sleep, and had never woken up. It struck her as monstrous and unfair.

Back on the mid-level she made for the bridge, heart still pounding. Stepping through the entrance she found it quiet and empty. The ship’s systems flickered and glowed. Screens of data and graphical displays cast a wan glow over the darkened room. Through the forward facing windows she could see the edge of the accretion disk, and something else.

There was a structure there amidst all that light, a dark structure that encircled the black hole’s event horizon. It seemed impossibly huge. There were other things out there too; a spherical grid of nodes that formed the rest of the mechanism. Floating cities that bathed in the energy. Weird arrays and foundries. Countless billions of minds and one domineering intelligence, malevolent and purposeful.

How could she know all that, standing here?

‘God damn it McCullock, where the hell are we?’

She turned, startled by the voice. A middle aged, uniformed man with thinning close-cropped hair and an aquiline nose was sitting in the captain’s chair. The bridge was full of people. Every station was crewed by a man or woman. They sat in their ancient uniforms, staring intently at the view outside or the instruments in front of them. They didn’t seem to notice her at all.

‘Still getting a fix sir, sorry. The computer reset itself when that thing knocked us out of out jump. If Sievert was still with us

’

‘Well he ain’t. Look I’m as sorry as the rest of you about what happened to him and the others, but we have a job to do. Christ, just how far off course are we? We plotted that course to take us around any black holes or other dangerous objects.’

‘Sorry sir,’ the woman apologised. ‘Computer’s working on a fix now.’

‘Captain, I’m picking up a structure around the black hole.’

‘Around it?’

‘Yessir, initial trigonometric estimates place it at around five light years in diameter. There are numerous other structures around the hole.’

‘Barnes, how the hell can anything survive in a black hole’s event horizon, let alone build something five light years in diameter!?’

‘Sir, I

I don’t know sir.’

There was a murmur of amazement and fear around the bridge.

‘Engineering, report.’

‘Engines are operating a one hundred and ten percent of recommended limits sir,’ came a voice over the shipboard comms. But those systems were down weren’t they? She thought. There had been no-one in engineering. ‘Sir, we can’t keep up much more of this.’

‘Chief, we have to escape the gravity of the black hole if we’re going to make it out of here alive. Is there any way we can make a jump in this environment?’

‘I

I don’t know. It could tear the ship apart. The gravitational stresses present too many variables and would destroy the hyperspace envelope. If we could find some sort of calmer area, a Lagrange point or something we might stand a chance. It was the black hole’s gravity that knocked us out of our jump. It’d be insane to try and initiate a new one.’

‘It may be our only option other than sitting here until we fall apart. Helm?’

‘Sir.’

‘Are there any reachable Lagrange points in the area?’

‘That’s a negative Captain. We can’t even move against that gravity. We could move deeper into the gravity well in the hope of finding one, but I don’t hold out much hope of us being able to steer towards one if we find it. We need to jump sir.’

‘Navigation, where the hell are we!? Talk to me.’

‘Sir, the ship’s navigational computer has estimated that we’re

’

‘Yes!?’

‘Sir we’ve reached the centre of the galaxy.’ The woman answered in a quavering voice. ‘We’ve travelled over sixty five thousand light years. Further than any human. The ship’s atomic clocks hadn’t malfunctioned during transit sir; we’ve been in space for fifty five years. Sievert, Patel and the others died of old age like the Doc said.’

The bridge fell silent. The crew members seemed to visibly reel as the truth of their fate sank in. The Captain massaged the bridge of his nose.

‘Sir that thing out there,’ said the man at the comms station, gesturing at the windows. ‘Whoever built that

they might as well be gods. How is that even possible!? We shouldn’t have come here sir.’

‘Alright

’ said the Captain. ‘Alright, but goddamn it we still have to get back. I don’t care what fucking year it is, I don’t care if God himself is walking around outside the ship right now, I don’t intend us to die out here! We could try signalling. The hypercom’s still online isn’t it?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Alright, put a signal out, wide-band. Let’s see if whoever built that thing out there is prepared to help us mere mortals.’

‘Sir, are you sure that’s a good idea? What if they aren’t friendly?’

‘You got any better ideas son?’

‘Too late,’ said Barnes. ‘They’ve already found us.’

In the space beyond the bridge windows, a ship was emerging from hyperspace. It didn’t jump in like human ships; it seemed to emerge somehow from some layer beneath reality. It was large, around two kilometres in length, composed from beautiful ice-like shards that radiated back in layers from its pointed bows. It dwarfed the Magellan as it swam across space towards them.

‘It’s so beautiful,’ murmured the woman at navigation. ‘I never thought we’d ever see anything so beautiful out here.’

‘Maybe they have come to rescue us,’ said the comms officer.

‘Well whoever they are, it’s too late now,’ said the Captain.

The bow of the approaching ship had parted like the petals of the flower, vast crystalline jaws opened wide to swallow the Magellan, shearing off the remaining solar arrays as they closed around it and blocking out all light save for that from the bridge systems. Then they too winked out.

It was utterly dark and silent.

Then there was a sudden, metallic tearing noise and in the darkness the screaming began and would not stop.

Katherine awoke in the darkness of her room. Her sheets and the over-sized t-shirt she had slept in were soaked in sweat. She threw off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, wiping the sheen from her forehead before getting to her feet and walking to the window. She looked out across the dig site under the dome. The huge jagged form of the ship jutted out of the gloom, lit intermittently by flashes of lightning from the storm that rolled in the clouds of sulphur beyond the dome’s protective environment. The ship was watching her, she knew it. She could feel it.

Wearily she pulled on some clothes and went and knocked on Rekkid’s door. He opened it, bleary eyed and squinted at her in the gloom.

‘Another dream?’ he said.

‘Yeah, this one was even more vivid. I’d say that thing’s taken a liking to me, although what it showed me was

it was horrible.’

‘You want to come inside and talk about it?’

‘Yeah. I can remember a few things, I think. Maybe I should record what I can while it’s still fresh in my mind.’

She told Rekkid what she could and scribbled a few hurried notes on a pad of paper she found in his things. He sat and listened patiently, those dark, glassy eyes of his impassive.

‘So you were on a ship, a human ship?’

‘Yes, I’m pretty sure that it was same one I saw in the distance in the last dream. It was old, very old. The damn thing was barely more than a few tin cans with a jump drive bolted to it. It probably predated the Commonwealth.’

‘That might explain the cryogenics. The first jump drives your people built were not capable of anything like the same sort of performance as current models. It would have taken them weeks just to travel a few light years.’

‘True. But I heard the crew say that they’d been in cryogenic suspension for decades. If they reached the galactic core that’s probably true. Even with our current ships, it must take years to travel that far.’

‘It’s quite incredible that they made it that far, given the primitive nature of their ship. I don’t think they even had any shields back then.’

‘Well not all of them made it, did they? There was some damage along one side, but what I was shown the rest of the vessel seemed pretty intact.’

‘Did the ship have a name?’

‘Yes it did.’ She paused for a moment in concentration as she tried to remember. ‘It was called

the Magellan, one of the early exploration ships I think. ‘

‘Well it seems like a suitable name for a human exploration vessel. What with your tendency to name ships after historical figures. Wait a second.’ He reached for his computer and unfolded it. The screen was dominated by the progress bar of the decryption program. Rekkid frowned at it.

‘Damn thing’s been stuck at ninety-nine percent for nearly half a day now. I just hope whatever it’s decoding is worth it. Now, let’s see.’ He opened a window to access the base’s public network and entered Magellan into a search engine. A ream of entries filled the screen, ordered by category. Rekkid selected ‘Magellan spacecraft’. Then pondered the results

‘Hmm, it seems that Magellan has been a popular name for all manner of craft for some time,’ he said, browsing one of the pages. ‘As far as spacecraft goes, use of the name goes back to the earliest era of spaceflight in the late twentieth century and there’s at least fifty vessels registered with that name in service at the moment.’

‘Look for USS Magellan. I’m pretty sure it was USS rather than the CNV prefix they use now. If I remember my pre-Commonwealth history from school correctly I’m fairly certain that those ships were built by the old United States. It was some sort of grand gesture to offset the fact that it had been a joint European-Japanese team that had cracked the problem of super-luminary travel and that they and the Chinese were way ahead of the US in terms of colonising newly discovered planets.’

‘That sounds about right. Hmm here we are

the United States New Frontiers Project. You must have heard of these guys. They ahem

‘discovered’ my people after all.’ Rekkid raised an eyebrow, and then continued. ‘Ten ships all designed for deep interstellar exploration. The crew were transported in cryogenic capsules and the ship was designed to make one hundred light year jumps, scan for any artificial transmission sources and awaken the crew if it found any. The Mayflower, the Livingstone, the Marco Polo, the Armstrong, the Magellan, the Scott, the Columbus, the Cook, the Odysseus and the Amundsen. The New Frontiers class was the bleeding edge of twenty –third century technology; horrendously expensive to build at the time and crewed by eager volunteers from science and the military.’

‘Except most of them never came back, did they?’

‘No, only the Amundsen and the Columbus survived. The former found us, the latter the Hyrdians and the Vreeth. The Mayflower suffered some sort of catastrophic drive failure, the Marco Polo caught a lethal dose of gamma rays that killed all of her crew and the rest were never seen again. There’s all sorts of links here to reports of supposed sightings. I suppose they could still be out there somewhere.’

‘Any details on the Magellan?’

‘Wait a second.’ Rekkid selected the ship’s name. Another page appeared with a schematic of the ship and a photo of the crew in crisp, clean, antiquated uniforms. There was no mistaking the ship’s utilitarian form, nor the long dead faces that stared cheerfully back at her.

‘That’s it. That’s them,’ said Katherine hurriedly. ‘I recognise the ship and I recognise their faces.’

‘The USS Magellan,’ Rekkid read. ‘Launched from Kennedy space dock in near Earth orbit on the 12 August 2212, crew of twenty four lead by Captain Blake, US Navy. The ship proceeded to test jump from Earth to the orbit of the planet Landfall around Proxima Centauri. On completion of a successful engine test the crew re-aligned the vessel for a series of jumps in the direction of the galactic core. They entered suspended animation, the ship jumped, and she was never seen again. One popular theory is that whoever designed the navigation computer made an error and it never dropped out of hyperspace like it was supposed to. They just kept on going until its reactor core died, whenever that was.’

‘What I saw was that the ship carried on going until it reached the galactic core. The crew said that it was knocked out of hyperspace by the gravity of the black hole there.’

‘That would make sense. Strong gravitational fields would have disrupted the hyperspace envelope.’

‘There was some kind of structure around the event horizon of the black hole. It must have been light years in diameter. An alien ship appeared and ensnared the vessel and well

it murdered them I think. It was horrible.’

‘The question remains: Why would that ship out there insist on showing you all of this?’ said Rekkid.

‘I don’t know. Neither of the ships in my dream looked much like that one out there. The alien vessel was crystalline, yes. But it was brilliant white crystal not black. It was very beautiful to look at, but it killed them all without hesitation. It didn’t even try to communicate, it just swallowed them whole.’

‘Could it be the same ship? Could it in fact be a Shaper vessel? We know that they come from the galactic core. That other dream you had seemed to show the Magellan being assailed by them.’

‘I don’t know. I only saw it head-on so it was difficult to determine its exact shape. But why would the ship that appeared to kill the crew of the Magellan insist on showing me evidence of how it committed the act?’

‘A warning perhaps? A threat?’

‘It doesn’t make any sense does it?’

‘Not really, no.’

‘Well, I don’t suppose dream interpretation is a particularly exact science is it? Jesus Christ

’ She shook her head ruefully and laughed bitterly at the absurdity of the situation. ‘I’m pretty sure of one thing though. I think we’ll only get any sort of answer once we’ve found a way inside that ship.’

Katherine had returned to her room. Rekkid dozed, uncomfortable in a strange bed that was slightly too short for his tall, slender frame. His computer lay open on the small desk at the side of the bed, its screen providing a wan illumination. In truth, he didn’t know what to make of Katherine’s dream experiences. He knew and trusted her enough to know that she was telling him the truth, especially since others had reported such occurrences, but it made no sense to him. If the ship was capable of projecting information into people’s brains, then why was it being so obtuse? Why didn’t it just come out and say what it wanted? Was it trying to warn them away from excavating it, or lead them on to make a terrible mistake? More to the point, just who had built that ship out there?

His suspicion told him that the Shapers had caused the deaths of the Magellan’s crew after the unfortunate humans had strayed too far into their lair, but what did this black ship have to do with all of that? How did it know?

Such questions would have to wait until they found a way in and until he could decipher the bastardised version of the Progenitor language that the vessel used. The collections of symbols danced in his mind’s eye as he lay awake in the semi-darkness. His academic obsession, his love of problem solving and pattern finding were what drove his studies, but sometimes he wished he could just stop thinking and sleep. Exasperated by his own obsession he sat up and grabbed his computer from the desk where he had left it to ponder them more and stared in amazement at its screen.

His computer had finally decrypted the Progenitor file. A single icon sat in front of him in the directory of processed files amidst a ream of mere static documents. This, however, was definitely an executable program of kind. Tentatively, he selected it.

On the screen, the entire galaxy revolved slowly before him.

Chapter 18

Isaacs’ plan to sneak off early and leave Anita at the hotel proved unworkable. He arose from his bed, bleary with the combined effects of sleep and a hangover, to the sound of her singing in the shower. He ran his tongue around a mouth which had acquired the taste and texture of stale carpet and cursed himself for forgetting that Anita was one of those people who, annoyingly, never seemed to suffer the after effects of drinking.

She emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wrapped in a towel, her wet hair slicked back over her head.

‘You don’t look so good,’ she said and frowned.

‘I don’t feel like a million credits either,’ he replied. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t try to get you drunk in future. It kind of back-fired. When you get to my age you start to feel the effects more the morning after. How do you feel?’

‘I feel fine now I’ve had a shower. All set to go and meet these pirate friends of your wife.’

‘Hmm, I still don’t think it’s a good idea. Sure I can’t dissuade you?’

She sat on the bed next to him and pecked him on the cheek. ‘I’ll be fine. Trust me. Besides, you’ll be flying the ship, not me.’

‘Yeah, and I’m in such wonderful flying condition this morning. I need something to take this headache away.’

‘And a shower. You stink of booze.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I’ll make us both some coffee. That should wake you up.’

‘Yeah. Do you think you could inject the caffeine straight into my veins?’

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head to clear it, then stumbled off to the shower. Anita watched him go and laughed to herself as she busied herself with making the drinks.

After a couple of large coffees and a decent breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Isaacs felt a little more human. He still hadn’t succeeded in penetrating Anita’s cheerful optimism to convince her that accompanying him might be a bad idea. In the end he gave in to her persistence and let her come, and cursed himself for being so weak. If anything happened to her he’d never forgive himself.

With his head a little clearer they left the hotel and made their way back to the central docking hub and the Profit Margin. Once on board, Isaacs sat in his pilot’s seat and studied the figures on the piece of paper that had been planted on him. He punched the numbers into the ship’s navigation system and squinted at the map of the Hadar system it produced on screen for him.

‘Hmm,’ he said and zoomed in on the waypoint it had highlighted.

‘What?’ said Anita, craning over his shoulder to have a look.

‘This waypoint’s in a pretty out of the way location, as I suspected. It should place us in low orbit around the fourth planet of the Hadar A star. It’s a gas giant planet of one point five Jovian masses, so there’ll be plenty of EM, alpha and gamma radiation interference to mask our presence from long range sensors. The exit point should also mean that our arrival will be invisible to the bases in the system, and I doubt that there’ll be many ships around, except for the freighters going to those power arrays in the inner system.’

‘So we won’t be seen?’

‘Not unless someone is specifically looking for us, no. Of course that means that no help will arrive either if things don’t exactly go to plan.’

‘Oh. That’s true. Mmm, what sort of defences does this ship have then?’

‘Well, it’s got a pretty high rated shield system for a ship of this size, and she’s fast and manoeuvrable.’

‘No, I meant guns.’

‘Yeah

guns,’ said Isaacs looked uneasy. ‘Guns were optional. I uh

couldn’t really afford them at the time that I bought her so we haven’t got any.’

‘What, no guns? You’re kidding! Even your basic hauler has a little defensive turret or something.’

‘No, look I had planned to buy a decent setup, but then I ended being forced to promise my money to that Bennett guy, thanks to the very woman I came here to find who’s hiding out with a bunch of pirates. So no, I haven’t got any guns.’

‘Ah I see. Well look on the bright side: at least they won’t get jittery if we’re unarmed.’

‘True, and trust me, I am a damn good pilot. I’ve escaped much worse than pirates before, believe me. Anything goes wrong, I’ll be out of there so fast they won’t be able to do a thing about it.’

‘See,’ she said. ‘I told you I’d be fine. How long do we have?’

‘Says eleven hundred standard here. It’s nine thirty now, so we’ve got plenty of time. I’d like to get there early though, just in case. Get yourself strapped in and we’ll go,’ he said and began powering up the ship.

Half an hour later the Profit Margin emerged from hyperspace above the gas giant Inyo, the fourth planet out from Hadar A. Isaacs immediately checked the ship’s sensors for signs of any ships in the local volume.

‘Anyone waiting for us?’ Anita asked as he studied the readout displays.

‘Nope, can’t see anything. Local space is clear of other ships, though there are plenty moving to and from the inner system. Of course they could be running silent or hiding behind the planet or one its moons

’

‘So we sit here and wait?’

‘Yeah, I’ve entered the jump coordinates for Barstow Station if anything should go wrong. They make one wrong move and we are definitely not sticking around.’

Isaacs made sure that the ship had settled into a stable orbit, then sat back in his chair. The planet revolved almost imperceptibly beneath them, its layered, wine coloured clouds bisected by the terminator line between day and night. The Profit Margin was orbiting towards the night side. In this low orbit, the planet was so close that its curved surface appeared as a flat plain of cloud. The thin arc of the faint ring system rose at a forty five degree angle across their view. A few of the larger satellites and a couple of shepherd moons were visible in accompanying orbits.

‘It is beautiful isn’t it?’ said Anita, gazing at the gigantic eye of a storm passing beneath them in Inyo’s cloud-tops

‘It certainly is,’ Isaacs replied. ‘It’s what keeps me out here I guess. Still, we have an hour to kill, so I guess you can look at the view all you want.’

Almost an hour later and the pinging of the ship’s sensors roused them both from the torpor that had overcome them in the darkness of Inyo’s night side. Isaacs leaned over and looked the display.

‘Company?’ said Anita.

‘Yeah, the ship’s detected a warp wake from a medium sized vessel. It just came out of the sensor shadow of the fifth moon and it’s headed straight for us.’

‘That has to be them.’

‘Yep, I’d say so. Here they come.’

The Hidden Hand vessel emerged from hyperspace five kilometres off the port bow of the Profit Margin and immediately came about to face them. It was a corvette class vessel, approximately twice the size of Isaacs’ ship. It’s sleek, flattened shape had been heavily modified to accommodate a greater range of weapons and sensors which had been bolted to the outside of its hull. A Hidden Hand logo was emblazoned on the cowling of the engine section.

‘They’re locking weapons and scanning us,’ said Isaacs, matter-of-factly. ‘I suppose they want to make sure we are who we’re supposed to be and not local law enforcement. Hell, I’d do the same.’

The corvette came to a relative stop half a kilometre away, forward weapons fully trained on the Profit Margin. Someone on board opened a comms channel, voice only.

‘Independent vessel Profit Margin, this is the Hidden Hand corvette Pre-Emptive Strike. Broadcast your cockpit video feed and ID code. We want to make sure we’re dealing with the right people here.’ It was a woman’s voice, confident and businesslike.

‘Roger that Pre-Emptive Strike,’ Isaacs responded. ‘Broadcasting now.’ He looked into the tiny cockpit camera and tried not to look nervous.

‘Okay that’s good,’ replied the Hidden Hand vessel. ‘Although considering that you’re unarmed you’d have to be pretty stupid to try anything.’ There was chuckle from the corvette. ‘Alright. You’re sure you weren’t followed here?’

‘Yeah,’ said Isaacs. ‘I scanned the area for ships as soon as we arrived. We’ve been here for about an hour and you’re the first vessel that we’ve detected in Inyo space. The ship’s got a pretty good sensor suite, so not much gets past me.’

‘Good. Here’s the deal. You slave your navigation system to ours. We’re going to make a series of short jumps to throw anyone off the scent then we’ll proceed to our base. We’ve already determined that there are no tracking devices on your ship, so I’m fairly satisfied that you’re not a government spy, however I must insist on you maintaining complete broadcast silence until we get there. No radio or hypercom, and no accessing the local networks for any reasons. I can’t have you broadcasting your location to all and sundry. Alright?’

‘Understood, I’m slaving our nav system to yours, jump when you’re ready.’

‘Good, Pre-Emptive out.’

The corvette came about, turning through one hundred and eighty degrees so that the fat cluster of engine exhausts at its rear faced the Profit Margin. The two ships now controlled by the navigational systems of the pirate vessel, they jumped in unison, the night-side clouds of Inyo disappearing into whirling blackness.

They emerged from hyperspace a moment later above a blasted ember of a world. Isaacs checked the system map and identified the hellish world as Furnace, innermost planet of the Hadar A star. Tidally locked in a close orbit around the blue giant, one hemisphere of Furnace remained constantly molten from the heat of the star. As he regarded the blistering plains of liquid rock, Isaacs pondered the wisdom of emerging so close to the shielded energy arrays orbiting just outside Furnace’s orbit. He didn’t have long to wonder though, as the Pre-Emptive Strike quickly re-aligned itself and jumped again, wrenching the planet from view.

They dropped out of hyperspace again after another few minutes, this time into the asteroid belt between the sixth and seventh planets. They were in the shadow of one of the larger rocks whose pockmarked and misshapen form loomed over the two tiny ships like a mountain of iron. Isaacs noticed some additional commands being passed to his ship, raising its shields to maximum before they jumped again.

This third jump took much longer. For almost half an hour the blackness of hyperspace rushed around the two ships in their shared envelope.

‘Where do you think we’re headed?’ said Anita, as Isaacs brooded.

‘Back across to the B star I’d say. I think our new friends aboard the Pre-Emptive Strike are about to try something extraordinarily dangerous.’

‘Oh?’

‘I think we’re about to emerge very close to the star. I could be wrong, but they raised our shields to maximum. Personally I’m more worried about what the star’s gravity well will do to the jump drive, though I suspect they’ve pulled this trick before.’

‘They must know what they’re doing, surely? I mean, they know this system, right?’

‘Yeah, I suppose. Just don’t like someone else flying my ship, I guess.’

Isaacs’ suspicions were well founded. Half an hour into their jump, the two ships dropped back out of hyperspace just beyond the corona of Hadar B. The blinding split second before the cockpit photochromic systems adjusted left both Isaacs and Anita with a green afterimage that they both tried to blink away. Through the darkened window they could see what appeared as a vertical wall of blue-white incandescence. Blinding loops of blazing plasma rose from the firestorm of fusion towards them, as the shields glowed from the deluge of superheated charged particles. The two ships began to come about to face away from the star.

‘Shit!’ said Isaacs in alarm. ‘We really are dealing with a bunch of crazy fuckers here. We’re much too close to the star! Christ, our shields can’t stand more than minute of this before the fucking ship melts.’

‘Still

the gravity and the output of the star ought to mask our next jump providing the envelope doesn’t catastrophically collapse,’ said Anita. ‘My Dad once told me about a friend of his that used it to escape from some unwanted attention in Sirius.’

‘Pretty neat trick if we survive,’ said Isaacs and checked the HUD. ‘Thank god, the jump drive’s ramping up again.’

Hadar B vanished from view. Isaacs and Anita breathed a sigh of relief.

The Pre-Emptive Strike now took them on a looping course that arced far above the plane of the ecliptic to emerge behind a lonely asteroid in a high slingshot orbit around Hadar B. The ships came to a halt close to the rock, visible only as a shadow against the star-field before the Pre-Emptive Strike opened a tight-beam comms channel to the Profit Margin.

‘Alright. So far, so good.’

‘Apart from the stunt you pulled jumping in close to the star. I damn near had to hose down the cockpit after that one, thanks.’

‘Sorry about that, we were hoping that anyone following us wouldn’t be crazy enough to try it. I assure you; we had the whole thing worked out to within acceptable risks. We figured that the drive on your ship would be able to stand the gravity incline.’

‘Did you factor in me having a heart attack?’

There was a chuckled from the corvette. ‘Okay, well we’re just going to sit here for a moment and make sure that no-one knows we’re here before we finally jump to our base.’

‘No more surprises, please,’ said Isaacs.

‘Well, I can’t really promise you that, but I promise you we won’t be jumping on top of any more stars. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes, Pre-Emptive out.’

After a moment the two ships jumped for a final time to emerge in the Kuiper belt around the Hadar system. Here, the twin stars blazed against the background of the galaxy as distant suns, their heat and light barely washing against the dark and sparsely scattered sub-planetary objects of frozen rock and ice.

One such tiny world loomed out of the darkness ahead of them. As Isaacs looked closer he could just make out signs of life. Against the background of jagged ice cliffs, the oblong shape of a docking port was just visible in the darkness. As the two ships approached, faintly glowing lights appeared within that angular mouth. The Pre-Emptive Strike led them inside, heavy blast doors sliding shut behind them like metallic jaws as they were swallowed by the base. Once inside, the base’s systems took over and directed them to a landing space inside a large, brightly lit hangar filled with a bewildering range of ships. Hovering on AG against the artificial gravity of the base, the Profit Margin slotted itself neatly into its assigned space, settling gently onto its landing gear.

Isaacs reached over the command console and began powering down the vessel. ‘Well,’ he said to Anita. ‘Shall we go and meet our gracious hosts?

Isaacs and Anita stepped out of the Profit Margin’s access ramp into the echoing space of the hangar. The cavernous space was strangely quiet, save for the sound of the Profit Margin’s engines gently plinking as they cooled and approaching footsteps.

A ragged assortment of beings led by a human woman rounded the nearest vessel. Black hair, tied back along her head in plaited cornrows framed a brown face with a hard expression. Her battered fatigues were adorned with tools and a couple of weapon holsters, from one of which she produced an automatic pistol and pointed it casually at Isaacs.

‘Alright flyboy, hold it right there. Let’s see if you are who you say you are.’ She motioned to a couple of her comrades, a man and a Hyrdian male. They came forward with weapons and a hand held scanning device which they pointed at Isaacs’ head at close range, before patting him down and scanning his clothes with another device. The Hyrdian plucked out one of his hairs by the roots and placed that in a separate piece of kit.

Isaacs was experiencing a certain amount of déjŕ vu. This wasn’t the first time people had taken an interest in the contents of his skull. The last time had been aboard the Churchill.

He’s clean, Maria,’ said the Hyrdian in accented English.

Better do her as well, just in case,’ said the woman named Maria and indicated Anita with her gun barrel, though she never took her eyes off Isaacs. ‘There’s no telling what she might have picked up.’

‘Nice to meet you too Maria,’ said Isaacs. ‘If we’re your guests I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies.’

‘Don’t take it personal,’ she replied. ‘We have to be cautious about security. And it’s Captain Velasquez unless I say so, alright?’

‘Sure, whatever. You’re the one with the gun after all.’

‘Smart man.’

She was sizing him up, he could tell, waiting for him to make a wrong move. He tried to look as relaxed as possible. He let his eye wander around the hangar over the assorted ships docked here, and at the walls of the hangar itself. It didn’t look like a human construction at all. It reminded him more of the Nahabe sections of the Labyrinth. There were a couple of small Nahabe craft docked here as well. Their angular, almost featureless forms contrasted with the sleek, beweaponed outlines of the other ships that they sat amongst.

‘She’s clean,’ said the Hyrdian. Velasquez nodded.

‘Alright, you two. Since you both appear to be who you say you are and aren’t carrying anything you shouldn’t you’d better follow me. Oh and by the way, may I be the first to welcome you to the Hidden Hand, Captain Isaacs.’

‘What is this place?’

‘This? This is our home, it’s an old Nahabe facility, but we decided to call it Port Royal. It was kind of a joke at first, but the name stuck.’

‘Port Royal?’

‘Old pirate haunt, back on Earth.’

‘I see, so how come the Nahabe gave up one of their facilities to a bunch of pirates?’

‘No-one told you, huh?’ she glanced at Anita. ‘You’ll see. Besides, we’re more like privateers, or freedom fighters. Some might even wrongly call us terrorists. Come on this way. I think someone is waiting for you.’

She marched off across the hangar towards a series of blast doors set into the far wall. As they approached, the doors began to slide open. The slight figure of a woman was visible in the corridor beyond. She stood with arms folded, wearing tattered fatigues like the others, her collar length black hair half shrouding her face. A flash of recognition crossed her face as they approached which developed into a lopsided grin. Isaacs would recognise his wife anywhere.

‘Hello Cal, so you finally tracked me down.’

‘Yeah, I figured you and I had a lot to talk about, that and the money you owe me,’ he replied, his voice laden with sarcasm. ‘Four hundred thousand, I seem to remember.’

‘Cal, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘You don’t?’ he sneered, disbelievingly

‘No. Look, it’s good to see you. I hoped you’d find me eventually. I trust Anita has been looking after you?’

‘Err yeah. You two

know each other?’

‘She didn’t tell you who she is?’

He turned to look at Anita, who grinned sheepishly. ‘She said she was on some sort of gap year, that her father is a freighter captain

’ he tailed off.

‘Well, the second part is true. Anita’s father Viresh ran supplies for us, but she’s one of our operatives out there in the Commonwealth, our eyes and ears.’

‘You’re a spy!?’ he said to Anita, incredulously. ‘Why the fuck didn’t you say something?’

‘Wouldn’t be much of a spy if I had, would I? Besides, I had to be sure of who I was dealing with, sorry,’ she replied. ‘I’m ah, pretty sure I got the right guy though. I was your escort. You wouldn’t have got here if it hadn’t been for me.’

‘What? Hey I can handle myself! Was Shigs in on this?’

‘No, he wasn’t, but we did use him I’m afraid,’ said Anna. ‘And by the way, you were followed as far as the Labyrinth by one of Bennett’s men. We dealt with him.’

‘Dealt with him? He’s dead?’

‘Yes. Laurence Spinetti was a dangerous man, but his employers were more dangerous still.’

‘Yeah, he was one of Bennett’s men, an employee of the Sirius Syndicate.’

‘And the Syndicate has made some very dangerous allies indeed.’

‘The Syndicate claimed that I owed them a tonne of money.’

‘Cal. I swear I never borrowed money from those people. We might be a little desperate, but not that desperate.’

‘So what the fuck was going on?’

‘My guess would be that they were giving you an incentive to track me down for them. They did have you followed after all, Laurence was but one person on your trail, and I don’t doubt that there were others that we don’t know about. We needed to use people we knew to make sure that you shook them off.’

‘So if you were using people you know to contact me, why all the secrecy? Why all the fucking ‘security’ checks when I got here?’

‘Because Cal, we had to be sure you were who you say you were, that you were still yourself and not someone else. Anita’s known for doing a thorough job.’

‘Well you could say that.’ Isaacs quipped then replayed the last sentence in his head and realised that he didn’t quite follow what his wife was talking about

‘We also used a few of our people inside Barstow to ensure that you got off the station. Apparently, the Navy put out an order to prevent you from leaving.’

‘Okay

will someone please start talking sense to me right now please? Velasquez, who do you think I am?’

‘Why the fuck should I care?’ said the woman and shrugged.

‘Great, okay. So, if I look like me and sound like me and I’m flying my ship, who the fucking hell were you expecting!?’

‘Cal, you have to listen

’

‘Oh I do? You take off and leave me in the shit for years. I don’t hear a damn thing from you. Then when things are just, y’know, looking a bit better all round, I get threatened by a bunch of gangsters who force me to travel half way across the Commonwealth to track you down. I’ve had it with this fucking shit, you and your goddamn cryptic messages, stringing me along like this. What the fuck are you doing here with a bunch of fucking pirates!?’

‘For Christ’s sake, I had to make the message a little cryptic in case anyone else saw it.’

‘Yeah, something about curing my nightmares. Believe me, you’re one of them at the moment.’

‘Will you let me explain? Cal, you told me what happened to you when you were in the military, when you were in training and went missing. Damn it, I was the one that you woke up every night with your screaming. I think I know one or two things about your nightmares.’

‘Yeah, so?’

‘I also know that you aren’t the only one.’

Anna took Isaacs back to her quarters deep within Port Royal where they could talk in private. The small compartment with its sloping, greenish walls had been rendered more homely with the addition of some mismatched furniture and personal belongings. Anna had a skill for that, making places feel a little more like home. Isaacs realised he had missed that aboard ship, alone. She fussed around for a few minutes, tidying away the remains of a meal before sitting next to him on the worn sofa in front of the room’s only screen.

‘So,’ said Isaacs wearily. ‘From the top. What the hell is going on? What are you doing with these people?’

She ran a hand through her thick black hair and stared at the floor. ‘From the top. Okay. You remember when we split up: I ran away?’

‘Yeah I remember. You could have left a note at least,’ he said with a hint of bitterness.

‘I know. It was my fault, my

weakness. I just

I just couldn’t cope with watching you try to destroy yourself. I’m sorry, it didn’t exactly help things did it?’ She looked at him apologetically. ‘You were taking bigger and bigger risks and you were drinking too much and picking fights wherever we went. I was frightened that you’d end up dead somehow and I didn’t want to be around when that happened. So I took the easy, selfish option and I quit. I’m sorry, but it was just too hard for me.’

‘I remember the arguments.’

‘Yes

me too. I suspect you don’t remember half of the drunken ones? Anyway you seem to have straightened yourself up a little.’

‘Yeah, a little.’

‘How’ve you been, since I left?’

‘Ah well, not good at first, not good at all. But I was getting better jobs, so I thought maybe things would work out. Bought myself a new ship.’

‘Yes I saw. She’s a really nice one. One of the new Stallion class isn’t it?’

‘It is. I wanted something faster and with bigger capacity than that old thing that we had. I guess I kind of needed to cheer myself up with a new toy too. Anyway, I was still taking those risky jobs so I needed something that could handle it. The last one was a real life or death situation, let me tell you. I got well paid though, really well and then I ran into a bunch of gangsters. So how did you end up here?’

‘I ended up running into Shigs at the Labyrinth after a run. I saw a friendly face so I stuck around for a while. Anyway, the Sirius Syndicate came after me once I started making some serious money, trying to shake me down for tribute so I joined one of the local freelancer co-operatives for protection. I guess that’s how they heard about me and were able to get to you. Maybe they were trying to back claim on their demands?’

‘Uh-huh, maybe. So how come you ended up with a load of pirates, sorry, privateers?’

‘The freelancers weren’t much protection as it turned out. But during my time at the Labyrinth I’d picked up a few contacts with a local pirate outfit operating out of a couple of systems outside of Commonwealth space. I figured their secrecy and muscle would buy me some protection. That’s how I met Maria, by the way. She and I had a nice little operation going for a while between the Labyrinth and this part of space.’

‘Yeah I heard about your little fleet.’

‘The Sirius Syndicate backed off for while, and things were looking up, I was making some real money, but then I started hearing stories.’

‘Stories?’

‘Yeah. Ships going missing in outlying systems. Whole convoys simply vanishing into interstellar space.’

‘Well, it happens you know.’

‘No this was different. There was no wreckage, nothing, they simply disappeared. Then I met one of the survivors of an attack right here in Hadar. His convoy got jumped just south of the system outside the heliopause, knocked right out of hyperspace

’ She grabbed his upper arm and looked at him fiercely. ‘Cal, I swear he described the same thing that you witnessed. His ship was at the edge of the convoy and he managed to re-activate its jump drive and escape, but before he did he saw the other ships being drawn in by an alien vessel. He said it was big, about the size of one of our carriers and made of crystal. He said the whole thing looked like it was carved from ice. None of the crew from the other ships were ever seen again.’

‘Shit, if it’s the same ship

Those poor bastards. I saw what happened to my squad-mates Anna, I

’

‘I know you did,’ she said firmly. ‘But wait, there’s more. The Hidden Hand aren’t what you think. We aren’t pirates: we’re resistance fighters. We’re trying to protect the Commonwealth from itself, and from the ones who built those ships.’

‘Yeah? You could have fooled me. I saw what your ‘resistance fighters’ did to the last convoy the Navy sent to Barstow. It was a massacre.’

‘It was necessary,’ she said firmly. ‘There’s more at stake here than a few dozen lives. Much more. Listen, I stuck around here for a while after I met that guy, asked a few questions. I wanted to know if anyone else had seen those ships. It led me to the Hidden Hand. Everyone here save for Maria and myself has seen what’s lurking out there in the darkness. They’ve all seen those ships! Some even

some were even rescued from within them by the Nahabe, like you were by the Arkari. They found us, or we found them. All of them have vowed to fight. They told me everything and we signed up. Hell it was lucrative. We were being paid well for each trip we made, far more than we’d make normally for the same goods. These people need supplies, not just weapons and ship parts, but everyday things, like food and water. We had the contacts, so it was easy for us to get what they wanted for them.’

‘Well who’s paying your wages?’

‘The Nahabe. We work for them. We’re their secret army, if you like. They set up this organisation so that they could operate covertly in Commonwealth space. They started to recruit freelance pilots and mercenaries, and anyone who knew anything about what has been going on around here that they could get hold of. They gave us this place and some of them even work with us. One of them leads us. We act as their eyes and ears and carry out raids where necessary’

‘Shit, you’re kidding me. Aren’t you afraid of the risks? Aren’t the Nahabe afraid of what would happen if the Commonwealth were to find out what they’re doing in our space?’

‘No. The Nahabe know the threat that we face and in their view the risks are acceptable in comparison. The creatures who built the ships like the one you were captured by are known as Shapers. They’re old, very old, and they seek to undermine and enslave all of our species. We think that the capturing of vessels is part of some reconnaissance exercise, to study our technology and biology so that they can use our weaknesses to their advantage. We also think that they’re implanting people with their agents somehow. How exactly we don’t know.’

‘I’m sorry; this is a lot to take. You’re saying there’s some sort of secret war going on?’

‘The Shapers operate with great care and secrecy. The Nahabe claim that key figures within our society have been, or will be, implanted with Shaper creatures. Those things grow inside the victim’s head and devour the brain, leaving the creature in control, having absorbed the individual’s knowledge and personality. They are then free to wreak havoc. It’s why we scanned you when you came here, in case you were one of them.’

Something dawned on Isaacs. He remembered his last contract.

‘Shit

wait a second. Anna, that last job I did. I got a K’Soth noble family out of Imperial space. Like I said, it was one hell of a trip, but they had a casket with them containing the body of their former patriarch. I thought that this was odd, since they generally cremate their dead, so I looked closer. The body had a stasis field around the skull. The surviving heir warned me off and told me not to get involved and said that there were things that I was better off not knowing. Then when I delivered them to a Navy vessel I was scanned in the same way as when I came here. The Admiral on board the carrier wasn’t regular Navy; she was Special Ops or something. She also told me to keep my nose out. I didn’t tell anyone, but she said she’d be in touch, I wonder if that’s anything to do with why they want to detain me?’

‘Who knows, we couldn’t dig up anything. The order from the Navy to detain didn’t detail why you were to be held, but do you see?’ said Anna. ‘It’s already begun. The Nahabe told us that they suspected that the K’Soth had been pushed to self destruction by the Shapers. They said the Shapers caused the recent war between the Commonwealth and the Empire as well as the civil war now raging within the Empire. It seems that they were right, if what you say is true.’

‘Shit, and if those things infect humans?’

‘The same. We think that someone in the Sirius Syndicate is working for them, or has been infected by them. They’ve been trying to infiltrate us for months now to find out where this base is located, sniffing around the system, harassing the local traders. Maybe that’s why the Syndicate turned its attention to you and gave you the impetus to track me down for them. Somehow, they must have realised who I was working for, and who you were. What concerns me is how the Sirius Syndicate knew that you were on Orinoco. Someone higher up must have passed information to them. They must have hoped that you’d try to find me and had you tailed. Luckily we got to Spinetti before he could follow you here. The man you dealt with - was it Bennett?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Thought so. The Syndicate goons who were trying to shake me down worked for him. Anyway, Bennett’s dead too.’

‘You had him killed too? That’s no loss. That piece of shit had it coming.’

‘We didn’t kill him. From what we gather from our sources the Navy sent some Special Forces Admiral after him, maybe the same one you encountered, and Bennett was killed by persons unknown before they could bring him in. He must have known too much.’

‘Such as: who was giving order and pulling the strings for these Shapers you mentioned.’

‘Exactly.’

‘So why are you operating out here? Why don’t the Nahabe just go to our government?’

‘Because they don’t trust them, that’s why. It’s rare for the Nahabe to trust anyone but themselves, doubly so given the circumstances. They suspect that the Sirius Syndicate are being manipulated by a senior government official. A crime organisation like that would be a powerful covert tool in the right hands, yes?

‘True.’

‘Besides, your government is doing all it can to assist the Shapers on Rhyolite, whether it knows it or not. That’s why the Nahabe decided to move us here into this abandoned observation post.’

‘The Navy’s helping the Shapers? How?’

‘A couple of prospectors found a crashed alien ship on the moon. It was old, far older than planet and it

it did things to their minds. Somehow it seems to be alive. It filled their heads with strange visions and promises of limitless technological wealth. The power of that thing almost shattered their minds. Imagine someone bellowing into a psychic megaphone, filling your head with incalculable wonders, mind wrenching horrors and incomprehensible gibberish all at once. They were out there for days, writhing in their environment suits until the ship let them go. They were lucky to get away alive, even though neither of them have been quite the same since.’

‘Well I can sympathise with that,’ said Isaacs grimly.

Despite the fact that it almost sent them insane, they still reported the find. They should have known better. The government was all over the moon in days, banned all flights around the area and set up a base over the site which they’re now guarding with several thousand troops all over that hemisphere as well as a flotilla of ships in-system at the naval base in the Hadar AB Lagrange point. The two prospectors were paid off, but the money was no use to them. Their mental states deteriorated quickly. Apparently one was found raving in the street about what he had seen, whilst the other simply sat in his ship for days outside Barstow’s traffic control zone staring blankly towards the galactic core. Eventually the Nahabe found them and brought them here. Both of them now need constant care, and they’ve both attempted suicide at least once.

Since then we’ve heard other stories. The crew working on the site are being sent insane by the ship. It probes their thoughts and shows them things. Even though it appears to have worked out less destructive ways of communicating, it still fills their heads with strange images or dreams. Many have simply complained that they feel like they’re being watched by the ship, other have reported seeing things, phantoms, shadows, you name it. The Navy seems to take no notice or doesn’t care. If our sources are to be believed, they’re too fixated on their prize.’

‘How do you know it’s a Shaper ship?’

‘We didn’t, at first. The Nahabe had their suspicions, but it wasn’t until they dug it out of the ground that we could see for certain. Here.’ She passed him a paper print-out of a grainy image. It showed a gloomy scene; a man made pit with a domed roof overhead. The centre of the picture was dominated by a black spiny form that jutted from the depths of the pit at an acute angle. ‘It’s a Shaper ship alright,’ she said. ‘This was taken by one of our operatives at the dig. The ship’s inactive, hence the different coloration, but the Nahabe assure us that it’s one of theirs.’

She saw him shudder visibly. ‘Yeah that’s like the one I saw. But if it’s inactive, where’s the risk aside from the mental torture?’

‘We think that it’s only playing dead, so to speak. If that thing is messing with peoples’ minds it’s still active at some level. We know from our sources that the Navy is planning to lift the ship off the moon and take it to a secure location to try and activate it, hence our attacks on their supply lines. We’re trying to hinder their efforts all we can, but things are getting desperate. We may have to take more drastic action.’

‘But when I met Special Forces they were fighting these things, I think.’

‘True, but what if one hand doesn’t know what the other one’s doing? The Navy is such a huge organisation, and when you factor in personal agendas and the influence of the Shapers it only makes things worse. From what we gather, this whole dig is under the command of one Admiral Cox, who sees it as his ticket to fame, glory and a nice promotion. Besides, what if they don’t know that it’s a hostile ship? Would you pass up a prize like this?’

‘I guess not. I think I’m starting to see why the Nahabe don’t trust us. We’re too goddamn curious for our own good, and most of us would sell our souls for a pay rise.’ He shook his head. ‘Jesus, this is a lot to take in at once. I expected you to just be hanging around with a bunch of pirates and reprobates and

well it’s a bit of shock. Some of this just sounds like just a load of conspiracy theories. If I hadn’t actually seen the evidence with my own eyes I’d tell you that you were all crazy. But after what happened to me back then

Why did you want me involved?’

‘Because I thought it might help you if you could face your demons, strike back at the ones who hurt you and take some revenge. Besides, we need all the good pilots with combat experience we can get. You have a real opportunity here. The pay’s good and you can actually work for something other than just yourself for once. You’re not alone Cal. Talk to the others, it might help. You’ve been facing this thing by yourself for far too long.’ She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder for a moment.

‘But why are the Nahabe involved at all? How come they know so much about these ‘Shapers’?

‘Because they’ve faced them before and they survived. It was a very long time ago, but they have long memories.’

‘I see, and what about you? Why do you want to help me?’

‘It’s partly because I felt guilty about the way that I walked out on you, and well, I think at heart I’m still in love with you.’ She looked directly into his eyes.

‘Now that

that I didn’t expect, ‘he said and laughed nervously, avoiding her gaze. ‘Alien monsters, no problem, but I really never thought that

well. I ah

I thought that you hated me. I thought you’d put my name on that loan to spite me.’

‘Maybe I did hate you, for a little while. It was easier than hating myself. But I never stopped loving you for a moment.’ She stroked his cheek gently. ‘Cal, do you still feel that way about me?’

He looked at the fine lines of her face framed by her collar length black hair, her long nose and arching eyebrows and the fierce gaze from her large intelligent eyes and he knew the answer.

‘Yeah, he replied. ‘Yeah I do, actually.’

Chapter 19

Katherine watched with puzzled amusement as Rekkid walked bleary eyed into the mess hall. He waved a dazed greeting and made his way to the queue at the food counter where he piled his plate and then shuffled over to her table where he sat down wearily in front of her.

‘Christ, Rekkid,’ said Katherine, with a laugh. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘Didn’t get much sleep,’ he replied arranging the food on his tray. ‘I was up late working on something, Katherine. Something you really ought to see.’

‘You’ve just poured orange juice into your coffee,’ she observed. Rekkid swore, looked at his drink, took a swig anyway and grimaced. ‘So what it is?’ she asked.

‘Oh. Well, you know my computer was busy decoding that file I found in the data wafers?’ She nodded, halfway through swallowing a mouthful of tea. ‘Late last night it finally finished the job.’

‘And?’

‘It seems,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘That the Progenitors left us a near complete record of the war that destroyed them. It stops at the sundering of the Dyson sphere, but it gives us a model of the conflict up to that point. I think that that’s what the Arkari uncovered, and why they were so eager to have the whole thing taken out of our hands. Essentially it provides an entire modus operandi of the Shapers.’

‘How they caused the Progenitor Empire to collapse?’

‘Yes. I think someone left this here on purpose for us to find, it serves both as a warning and a lesson. Like I said, you need to see it. I stayed up for hours with the thing. Hence I only got about two hours sleep.’

‘I thought your people could survive sustained sleep deprivation as part of your avian heritage.’

‘Yes well, we can - but it makes us very bad tempered, I’m afraid.’

‘You mean it makes you bad tempered

who’s to notice?’ She grinned. ‘But that sounds like a remarkable find Rekkid, I can’t wait to see it.’

‘Like I said, when I can be sure we won’t be disturbed

shit.’ Rekkid rubbed his eyes then muttered: ‘I really need to get some more coffee.’

He disappeared to the food counter again and returned with a fresh mug.

‘Anyway,’ he continued. ‘I’ll show it to you at a suitable juncture, when we have the time and the privacy we need. Meanwhile, I think we should be quite busy today: Cox must have been impressed with our theory about that ship being multidimensional. He sent me a message just now to the effect that the ship we requested for scanning that vessel is now in orbit above us. A Navy recon cruiser, the Arminius, arrived a couple of hours ago and we have full use of its enhanced sensor suite. I’m told that the ship can resolve objects in hyperspace whilst sitting in normal space, so perhaps we might get some insights into how that thing out there actually works.’ He jabbed a fork towards the shape of the alien ship that loomed in the half light beyond the mess’s armoured windows.

‘How long till we get started?’

‘About half an hour. You go and suit up. I’ll join you as soon as I finish eating.’

They stood in the pit in the shadow of the alien vessel. Reynaud and Cox had joined them. Each of them had linked their suits to the live feed coming from the Arminius, far above the volcanic moon, as its sensors swept and probed the area where they now stood. The display of its findings was projected into their suits’ HUDs and appeared to hover between them, a phantom, three dimensional image of the ship and the ground it rested in. The layers of lava deposits were clearly visible, along with the recently dug pit and the human buildings around it. The image distorted and froze occasionally as the signal was interrupted by the storms beyond the protective dome.

‘Are you receiving our transmission okay, sir?’ crackled the voice of the Arminius’s captain in their ears. The question was directed to Admiral Cox.

‘It’s a little rough, but it’ll do,’ replied the Admiral. ‘Atmospheric conditions down here are pretty severe at the moment. We’ve got a dust storm raging outside and the static electricity it’s creating in the atmosphere is degrading your transmission.’

‘We’ll boost the signal,’ replied the captain of the Arminius. There was a pause, then the interference seemed to decrease. ‘Any better, sir?’

‘That’ll do for now. So what are we looking at?’

‘This is a standard ground penetrating radar image of the site sir. As you can see, the ship is clearly visible against the rock strata. Not much else to see.’

‘It would seem to confirm our suspicions that the ship came down into soft lava,’ said Reynaud. ‘See how the underside of the vessel is within that layer yet is perfectly preserved?’

‘Yeah I see,’ Cox replied. ‘Wonder what kind of shielding they had to withstand that?’

‘Ask them to use the magnetometer,’ said Katherine. ‘It might give us some indication as the composition of this thing.’

‘Alright Arminius, you heard the lady. Think you can turn your mine sweeping sensor suit to this?’

‘Maybe

just a moment, we’ll need to recalibrate the instruments to account for the atmosphere.’ There was moment’s pause. ‘Alright let’s see if this works.’

The image was now overlaid with another, showing the readings from the ship’s magnetometer. The metal structures of the complex were outlined clearly in glowing hues, coupled with a few streaks of pastel colours running through the surrounding lava. A hazy blob of colour hovered over the centre of the alien ship.

‘Arminius, can you increase the resolution of your scan?’ said Rekkid. ‘We’re seeing something here but it’s a little unclear what it is.’

‘Sorry, our sensors are already running at maximum resolution. That’s as good as we can get I’m afraid. It looks as though that ship contains internal components of a metallic nature, but the outer skin is entirely crystalline. Crystals of what though, I couldn’t tell you. Of course, the spatial distortion effects that that thing causes aren’t helping any.’

‘Well this seems as good a time as any to move on to examining those,’ said Katherine.

‘Agreed,’ said Reynaud. ‘This, I think, is the most fascinating aspect of this vessel.’

‘Really?’ said Rekkid. ‘I’d have thought ‘terrifying’ was a more appropriate term. If this thing really does exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously, then my guess is that whoever built it is as far in advance of both our races as we are to our stone-age ancestors.’

‘Why, Professor Cor, I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one amongst us. You said so yourself,’ said Reynaud, mockingly.

‘Henri, we’ve learnt the hard way to be wary of things like this,’ said Katherine. ‘Fabulous technology carries as much risk as it does wonder and knowledge. Rekkid and I were among the few Commonwealth personnel to survive the entire Maranos affair unscathed, and then only by luck, so pardon us for being apprehensive.’

‘Yes, what did happen on that planet I wonder?’ Reynaud shot back.

‘When you’re all quite finished,’ snapped Cox irritably. ‘Perhaps we can get on with this?’

‘Certainly. My apologies Admiral; professional differences,’ said Reynaud smoothly. ‘Have the Arminius scan the vessel at the highest resolution they can manage.’

‘Good. You copy that Arminius?’ said Cox

‘Roger,’ came the crackled response. ‘Initiating hyperdimensional scan. This may take a moment.’

‘Thea class recon vessels like the Arminius carry a modified version of the standard hyperspace sensors,’ Cox commented. ‘Most ships can only look for distortions in this dimension, but the Thea class can extend that search into neighbouring dimensions, both subspace and hyperspace. It allows the ship to peer inside the hyperspace envelopes of vessels in mid jump and determine their exact type. Previously we had to go on just the engine signature of the vessels in question. It was a bit of a black art, to be honest, and not much use if several ship types use the same drive. Don’t ask me how it works though. I just command the things, I don’t build ‘em.’

‘Well it’s useful for us,’ said Katherine. ‘If this thing shows up in more than one dimension our theories are correct. There’s just the small matter of working out how it manages to do it if we are.’

After a brief pause, the geological map they had previously been examining was replaced by a schematic of sub, normal and hyperspace covering the area of space where the moon currently sat. The three dimensions were represented by three stacked planes, the middle one, representing normal space, was curved into a concave parabolic pit from the effect of the moon’s mass and sloped steadily off to one side of the larger gravity well of Beatty. A grid of pale lines provided a reference as to the distorting effect whilst a three dimensional model of Rhyolite sat in the middle of indentation.

The view zoomed in sharply to the surface of Rhyolite. The ship was focusing on the area where the ship lay. Something was visible on all three dimensional planes now. It was a pinprick at first, then it grew ever larger as the Arminius fine tuned its instruments. There was no mistaking the spiny form that now sat in the middle of each plane. Lines of ever so slight mass distortion bent about its crystalline hull as it sat in defiance of the vastly differing space-time geometries that it simultaneously inhabited.

‘Well would you look at that,’ said Katherine. ‘It seems that we were right all along. This thing is multidimensional.’

‘Remarkable,’ mused Cox, peering at the diagram.

‘We’re not sure, but from our readings it looks like the ship may exist in further dimensions beyond the reach of our instruments,’ said the Arminius’s captain. Wait a second

ahhh, my Chief of Sensors Operations and my Chief Engineer think that judging from our readings that the vessel is exploiting a loophole in string theory that allows it to do this, but

really this needs better minds than ours to examine it. My advice would be to get a science vessel in here and fill it with as many theoretical physicists as you can lay your hands on.’

‘Well, I think we can consider this a success,’ said Reynaud. ‘It seems that your hunch paid off. I salute you. Another wonder of antiquity revealed.’

‘Revealed!?’ said Rekkid incredulously. ‘You heard the man; this is going to take years of study to even comprehend. That shouldn’t bother your readers though

’

‘Hang on, there’s something else,’ said the Arminius’s captain. ‘On closer inspection it seems that a portion of the vessel isn’t multidimensional. We’ve identified a roughly cylindrical space about half a kilometre in length inside the ship’s hull. It corresponds to the metallic region that we identified with the last scan. The rest of the vessel extends across various dimensions, but that part remains here. Maybe it’s an anchor of some kind in this plane or the engine that drives that thing. You guys should take a look inside and see.’

‘I concur,’ said Cox. ‘Understanding how this vessel works is now our top priority if we are to reap the benefits of its technology. By examining the portion most familiar to us, we might gain the insights we need to understand the rest. I want you three to find a way inside that thing, and quickly. Professor Cor, my men worked through the night imaging the exterior of this vessel as you instructed. I’m assuming that you should be able to make some sense of the patterns we’re seeing within the hull.’ He emphasised the point by patting the nearest spar of the ship that jutted out just above his head, then gazed at his hand thoughtfully after it slid away from the hyperdimensional surface.

‘I’ll need some time,’ said Rekkid. ‘I can already read some elements of the patterns, but the remainder is something of a puzzle, to say the least. Hopefully I can compare the two halves in order to understand the whole.’

‘Good, if you can proceed with that.’

‘I’ll need a bit of peace and quiet, preferably near the ship so I can examine it further if I need to.’

‘There’s a site manager’s hut near the bow section you can use for the time being.’

‘Good.’

‘Doctor O’Reilly, how about you?’

‘I’d like to run some more tests on the ship,’ said Katherine. I was thinking, maybe if I can get some more data on the ship’s hull at a low level it might give us more insights. The sensors of the Arminius can only tell us so much. Plus, if your teams have found any more broken fragments of hull I’d like to analyse them.’

‘Excellent, I believe Dr Reynaud should be able to assist you in that respect. I need to go and meet with the dig team leaders and assess their progress. Carry on, and report to me if you find anything significant.’ Cox’s suited form turned and left, walking heavily around the rear of the ship until he disappeared from view.

‘Right well, I’m off to find my shed,’ said Rekkid. ‘You two have fun now. Katherine, be sure to call if his company starts to make you want to remove your suit helmet and kill yourself. I’ll see you both later.’ He winked at Katherine and stomped off towards the bow of the ship.

As he watched the Arkari leave, Reynaud said: ‘Your Professor Cor - he doesn’t like me very much, does he?’

‘You think? Rekkid’s a tad irritable at the best of times, but you seem to bring something out in him. He’s not one to suffer fools gladly.’

‘Katherine, I am no fool.’

‘No, and I think somehow that makes it worse. He doesn’t see you as being serious about your work Henri. You’re too much of a showman, and you’ve made quite a name for yourself from peddling some fairly unsound theories in your time.’

‘Now Katherine, that makes me very disappointed. I had hoped with your experiences that you might be a little more open minded.’

‘Yeah well, I’m open minded to anything that you can prove. So come on Henri, try and impress me. What have you managed to find out about the hull material?’

‘Not as much as I’d like, I must confess. Here, I have a piece.’ His gloved hands fumbled with a side pocket on the right thigh of his suit. He produced a small fragment of hull material and held it up. ‘You see? Once removed from the main body of the ship, the material loses some of its multidimensional properties. The field effect is lessened, so I can actually touch it.’

‘The ship must be generating the field around itself, rather the material itself.’

‘To an extent yes, though it would appear that the material itself amplifies this effect in some way. You have your sample analyser with you?’

‘Yes, hang on.’ She struggled for a moment as she removed the device from its sleeve on her belt.

‘Now have a look at the molecular structure of the material.’ He handed her the fragment and she popped it into the analysis chamber of the device. She activated it and they both waited for a few moments whilst it processed the sample. The results were inconclusive. A series of question marks appeared next to entries for chemical composition, atomic weight and age.

‘We managed to get an approximate age from analysing the ship as a whole,’ Reynaud commented. ‘The number of cosmic ray strikes evident on the surface material is concurrent with a vessel of around five billion years of age. It seems that even the strange nature of this ship is not immune from certain natural phenomenon. Now, have a look at the molecular structure.’

She flipped through the options on the small device, until a graphical representation of the atoms that made up the crystalline material appeared. It made no sense.

‘This

this doesn’t look like crystal at all,’ said Katherine. ‘These atomic bonds should form regular, rigid, geometric patterns. This looks more a like a liquid, or some sort of morphable nanotech.’

‘You’re familiar with such technology?’

‘It’s a long story. Anyway

these readings are nonsensical.’

‘Yes, I thought so too. So I ran the sample through some of higher grade instruments we have back in the base, still no luck. On a hunch I sent a sample to a friend of mine who works in the Navy’s hyperspace research division. He owed me a few favours. Anyway, I didn’t tell him exactly what it was, and I told him to be discreet. He sent me the results back a few weeks ago. Here.’ He passed Katherine a small palm sized datapad and thumbed the controls until a molecular diagram appeared. It showed a complete crystalline structure, regular and recognisable. The various atoms were colour coded.

‘You see, the atoms marked in green exist in this dimension. The ones marked in red exist in hyperspace, the ones marked in blue in subspace. If you look at any one dimension you get a nonsensical pattern like the one you just saw, but put them together and you get a complete structure.’

‘How the hell is that even possible? How can atomic bonds be formed across different spatial dimensions?’

‘Now there you have me. Like the captain of the Arminius said, we need physicists here, not archaeologists.’

‘Well if we can gather enough information about the ship, maybe we can pass it on to the rest of the scientific community. Reynaud, why did you never mention any of this?’

‘Because I wanted to see if you two would come to the same conclusions as myself. I’d suggested the possibility of this ship existing in multiple dimensions to Cox before, but I don’t think he was entirely convinced and he wouldn’t lend me a ship. You two came to the same conclusion independently, so he sat up and listened. Cox is right behind this project, but he’s not a man of science. Sometimes he can be a little hard headed.’

‘Doesn’t Cox trust you?’

‘I don’t know. We’ve known each other for quite some time, but I think he sees me as a means to an end. He tends to scoff at some of my wilder theories, even when they turn out to be true. I think he just wants to recover his prize and claim the glory as quickly as possible and then let us worry about the research later.’

‘Well I thought you were just in this for the book rights.’

Reynaud looked hurt. ‘No, Katherine. I am in this for science, and for the thrill of discovery. But yes, I will produce a work on this so that others can learn of our findings.’

‘Well how about you give in to the thrill of discovery and give me a hand to analyse the surface of this thing, if you can call it that. I figured if we could get some indication of any radiation or the nature of the distortion at low level it might help others understand how this thing works. I’ll need the right tools of course, hell even a geiger counter would help.’

Reynaud nodded. ‘Yes, I think we have the right equipment on site. We have some standard radiation monitors right here, but I think we have some more sophisticated scanners back in the base. I’ll have them brought down here.’ With that he switched channels and began communicating with his underlings.

They had been scrutinising the hyperdimensional surface of the ship for two hours now. Katherine’s back protested from the weight of the pack she now wore that housed the sensitive scanning equipment that they had requested. Even with the assistance of her suit’s exoskeleton the pack was still cumbersome and awkward. They had originally been designed for maintenance crews to examine the state of star-ship jump drives, but someone had had the foresight to include them in the dig site’s inventory of equipment. Each pack was crammed full of sensitive equipment, and consequently they were extremely heavy.

It was getting hot inside her suit too. Rivulets of sweat now trickled down her forehead and neck and made her itch. It gave her some satisfaction that Reynaud was labouring with similar discomforts, his usually suave personality having become ever more irritable with every passing moment.

The surface of the ship swam in front of her. The shifting patterns were starting to play tricks with her eyes. She started to imagine that she could see shapes and images in the murky depths. But when she looked closer all she saw were the steadily shifting strings of symbols.

There had been no word from Rekkid. Doubtless he was engrossed in his work. She envied him. She imagined him sitting sedately in a cool room, his dark eyes roaming over successive images of the symbols that she now saw before her. Either that or he’d be roundly cursing his computer. Anything was better than this. They’d tried examining different areas of the ship, from where the bow plunged into the lava, to the tips of the spines around the midsection. Reynaud had even had himself lifted up with one of the cranes that they had on site to take readings from the tail. They’d had very little in the way of results except that the ship emitted a faint, uniform stream of tachyons from every point they’d examined. There also was barely any heat coming from the thing, despite the fact that it was clearly active at some level.

The heat, the weight of the pack and the claustrophobia of the suit were getting to her. Katherine felt like she might pass out. She removed the equipment pack’s straps from around her shoulders, unclipped the attachments to the suit’s exoskeleton and carefully laid the heavy thing on the ground. Then she turned up the cooler in her suit and laid a hand against the ship’s hull to steady herself as her vision swam for a second.

There it was again. Those damn patterns that seemed to come and go in the ship’s hull. She blinked and shook her head to clear it. She looked again. The patterns had formed themselves into a rough approximation of her face. Now she really was starting to lose it, she thought. She keyed her comm. link.

‘Uh, Henri, listen. I think I need a little time out of the suit. The heat’s starting to get to me. I’m going to make my way to that hut where Rekkid is. I really

. ‘

‘HELP ME.’ The voice boomed inside her head like a thunderclap. Stunned, she fell to her knees. ‘HELP ME.’ She struggled to breathe inside the suit. Her vision began to blur. ‘NOW I HAVE OPENED THE DOOR. COME INSIDE AND SET ME FREE.’

Lying prone on the black lava she saw Reynaud’s suited figure lumbering towards her. His voice was calling out to her over the comm. link. Then she passed out.

She awoke to a cool, brightly lit room. Looking around she realised she had been placed on a folding bed. Rekkid and a couple of medical orderlies were standing over her.

‘Hey,’ she said to the Arkari. ‘Where the hell am I?’

‘Back at the base. You gave us a bit of a scare down there, but the medical staff here say that you’re going to be fine. You fainted. You were out for about an hour. What happened out there?’

‘I fainted? What a helpless female in distress I am,’ she snorted. ‘I take it Henri came to my rescue to loosen my corsets?’

‘Regrettably, yes. He’s milking the chivalrous angle for all its worth. I did my best not to throw up in his presence, but

well he did get the medical team out to you in minutes, so I suppose we do owe him some measure of gratitude. What do you remember?’

‘I was

working on the ship. Reynaud and I were trying to get some readings from the surface. I started feeling a little faint and I stopped to rest. Then I

I thought the heat must have been getting to me, because I thought I saw my own face in the patterns in the hull and there was this voice in my head, the same voice from my dream.’

‘I see,’ said Rekkid thoughtfully. ‘Katherine, right at the moment you passed out, the ship

moved.’

‘It what?’

‘The hull shards opened up near the rear of the ship. There now seems to a way into the vessel. My guess is that it wants us to go inside. Cox wants us both on the first team to go inside. If you’re feeling up to it.’

She sat up in the bed and rubbed her eyes. ‘The voice said something about opening the door, so that I could set it free. So yes, I think I had better go. It’s me that it wants.’

‘Are you sure? It could be a trap of some kind. We still have no idea where this ship came from or what its intentions are. The damn thing’s clearly alive. Do you really want to walk into the belly of the beast?’

‘Yes. Yes I do, I think it’s the only way we’re going to get to the bottom of this. Quite frankly, I’m getting a little tired of having my brain scrambled by a star-ship and I’d like some answers.’

‘Alright, well I’ll let Cox know. I’ll tell him you need a couple of hours to get back on your feet.’

‘I’ll be fine

’

‘Well, get a wash and something to eat at least. If you pass out again in Reynaud’s presence I’ll just let him have his wicked way with you.’

‘Alright, alright

Christ Rekkid, sometimes you behave like my father.’

‘Yes, well. I thought you’d embarrassed yourself enough for one day. Come on, seriously Katherine, I was worried about you. I thought that that thing might have fried your brain or something. I can’t help wondering why it’s so interested in you rather than anyone else here. Ever since we arrived that thing’s been inside your head.’

‘Not just me. Reynaud said that it spoke to him too.’

‘Yes. Now that’s something that I do wonder about.’

They stood once more in the shadow of the ancient vessel. The tail of the ship loomed above Katherine, Rekkid, Reynaud and Cox as they stood, suited, before the entrance that had opened in the rearward portion of the vessel. Several of the dark, crystalline plates had shifted aside to reveal a triangular entrance into the ship near to where the craft emerged from the lava that still concealed the bow section. Cox’s men had cleared the remaining debris from around the base of the vessel and erected a ramp and gangway from the ground to the lip of the entrance. Angled spotlights around it cast feeble beams into the stygian gloom within. Teams of heavily armed marines stood guard on either side of the entrance, their figures bulky in their sealed combat armour, in case anyone tried to gain unauthorised access to the vessel, or indeed, if anything came out.

Above the ship, the pale light of Hadar B pierced a thinner patch in the sulphurous clouds of Rhyolite, harshening the shadows and heightening the effect of the menacing darkness that seemed to be emanating from within the ship’s bowels. The three humans and one Arkari looked at each other a little uneasily.

‘You are sure you want to go through with this Katherine?’ Reynaud asked, a look of concern on his face.

‘Yes, absolutely. I have to know what’s in there,’ she replied resolutely.

‘Same here,’ said Rekkid. ‘Although I feel a little apprehensive about crawling up its arsehole.’

Neither Cox nor Reynaud laughed, although he saw Katherine smirk despite herself. No-one seemed to be much in the mood for jokes. The ship was waiting for them, they could feel it. It was waiting to swallow them.

‘Alright people, listen up,’ said Cox, broadcasting both to the assembled archaeologists and the marines. ‘We are to proceed inside the ship at once. Privates Jones and Stamp, you’re to accompany Professor Cor, Doctor O’Reilly and Doctor Reynaud inside the vessel. Do as they ask of you and protect them if need be. Don’t touch anything unless they tell you to, alright? The rest of you will remain outside with me. I’ll command the mission from here, but I’ll need you all on the ball if this should go wrong or something unexpected happens. Alright Henri, you lead the way when you’re ready.’

‘Great,’ said Rekkid to Katherine over a private channel. ‘Cox stays out here and uses us as guinea pigs. Very noble of him.’

‘Okay. I’m going to move inside the ship,’ said Reynaud over the general channel. ‘Professor Cor, Katherine, after me if you please.’ He began to walk towards the entrance, Katherine and Rekkid following. The two marines, Jones and Stamp, fell in smartly behind them, rail rifles gripped tightly in their gauntleted fists.

The flimsy ramp shook and vibrated to the collective footsteps of the five suited individuals as they walked with as much care as possible in their heavy suits. Reynaud in the lead was the first to step off onto the ship. He placed one foot gingerly on the dark hull material and then another, then he paused to peer down at the soles of his boots that weren’t quite touching the material, yet were still able to grip the indistinct surface.

‘Interesting,’ he commented. ‘The rest of the ship’s surface is almost frictionless. It must be permitting us to step here by allowing friction in this area.’

Katherine could feel the ship inside her mind. It was a presence or pressure she couldn’t ignore. She thought she heard it whispering, calling her inside. Involuntarily she took a step forward towards the gaping entrance, then stopped. Reynaud looked at her quizzically.

‘Everything all right?’ he asked.

‘Sure. Fine,’ she replied. ‘Come on Henri, what are you waiting for?’

‘For our two marines to join us of course.’ He didn’t take his eyes off her. ‘Gentlemen, if you could make sure the safeties are on, on those weapons of yours. I don’t want you jumping at shadows and loosing off a round in there. In such a confined space a stray bullet could be as much a danger to us as any potential enemies. Your laser pistols only, if you please.’

The two men nodded and shouldered their rifles, before removing bulky Navy issue laser pistols from holsters on their belts. Katherine recognised the model; it was the same kind that Steven Harris had taught her to shoot back on Maranos. She still thought about Steven sometimes, even though she hadn’t seen him since those terrible events two years previously. She wondered where he was now; no doubt up to his neck in trouble as always. Hell, he could be anywhere. Haines and Mentith had given him his choice of assignments in the special ops outfit that they had set up to deal with the Shapers, and that had been that. She hoped he was still alive, somewhere.

Rekkid shook her from her from her contemplation.

‘Hey, Katherine. You alright? You looked a little

’

‘Sorry, I was just reminded of something.’

‘Well, come on. We can’t let Reynaud get all the glory. We’d never hear the last of it. Follow me.’

Reynaud was just inside the entrance, almost invisible in the darkness until he turned on his suit lights. The helmet mounted beams washed over the dark reflective surfaces that formed the corridor from a jumble of angles where the shards had pushed apart to form it. The floor led steadily upwards into the belly of the ship.

Katherine, Rekkid and the two marines followed Reynaud’s lead and turned on their lights too, their combined illumination still failing to pierce the absolute darkness beyond a few metres, at the edge of which strange angular shadows danced as the beams shifted with their footsteps.

‘Report,’ said Cox over the comm. channel. ‘What can you see? Anyone?’

‘Not much,’ said Rekkid. ‘It seems pretty similar on the inside as on the outside. It’s just an awful lot darker.’

‘I forgot to ask, Professor,’ Cox continued. ‘How did your research into the languages contained within those patterns go?’

‘I made some headway,’ Rekkid replied. ‘I was correct in my assumption that the smaller patterns were the Progenitor tri-linear script, though it turned out to be a slightly different dialect. The larger patterns are still something of a mystery to me. There doesn’t seem to be any logical arrangement that I can identify, at least not so far.’

‘Read a pattern from the nearest wall, if you can,’ said Cox. ‘Indulge me.’

‘Alright,’ said Rekkid. ‘Let me just get my notes

’ He unclipped a datapad from his belt and activated it, holding up the glowing screen in front of his faceplate and peering at both it and the shifting patterns on the wall he scrutinised the symbols present there. They all heard his gasp of surprise over the comm.

‘What?’ said Katherine. ‘What is it?’

‘It says

.’ said Rekkid and hesitated.

‘What? What does it say?’ Cox demanded.

‘It says ‘Help me, Katherine’ unless I’m very much mistaken.’

There was a pregnant pause.

‘You have got to be fucking kidding me,’ Cox said finally.

‘I’m not making this up Admiral,’ said Rekkid. ‘The words ‘help me’ are clearly visible and the word ‘Katherine’ has been approximated using phonetics. It’s repeated over and over.’

‘Any idea why the ship is trying to talk to you, Dr. O’Reilly?’

‘Not entirely, no,’ she replied. ‘Though it does seem to have taken an undue interest in me since I got here. I gather many of your men have experienced similar occurrences.’

‘Which I dismissed as rumour,’ Cox said firmly.

‘It’s no rumour,’ said Katherine. ‘This ship is able to communicate with people’s minds somehow. It

seems to speak to me more than most though. I believe Doctor Reynaud has had similar experiences.’

‘He did mention it to me. Personally I was rather sceptical. It all sounded a bit

far fetched.’

‘Then how does it know my name, Admiral?’ she replied. ‘This thing is alive, somehow. If it wants my help, maybe we should continue inside and see what it wants?’

‘Alright, but be careful.’

They headed further in, torch-beams sweeping the darkness as they edged carefully up the now steeply sloping corridor. It was utterly dark now. A hundred metres inside, the upwards curve of the corridor obscured the pale meagre light from the entrance. It was a difficult climb into the ship’s innards. One of their beams swept across something dully reflective ahead of them.

‘We found something,’ said Reynaud over the comm. ‘The corridor ends in some sort of metal plate.’

They struggled upwards and onwards. Now they could see the metal surface more clearly. It was slightly curved and pitted with wear. In the alien gloom of the ship’s interior it seemed out of place. Set into the metal panel was an armoured hatch with a small viewport and heavy handles.

‘What the hell?’ said Rekkid. ‘This looks like human technology.’

‘It is,’ said Katherine. ‘Look more closely.’ She shone one of her suit torches at the centre of the door. Partly obscured by grime and half erased by years in space was a name. It was written in the Roman alphabet in stencilled letters ten centimetres high above a faded stars and stripes flag. ‘See,’ she said. ‘It’s the Magellan.’

‘Well what’s it doing here?’ said Rekkid. ‘That ship was lost years ago

oh shit.’

‘Could someone please explain what we’ve just found?’ said Reynaud. ‘This is the remains of a pre-Commonwealth vessel, one of the early exploration vessels, is it not? What is it doing here?’

‘It’s the same ship that I saw in my dream,’ said Katherine. ‘It

it reached the core of the galaxy and it was destroyed by an alien vessel

wait, no, it was swallowed

’

‘Katherine, what are you talking about?’

‘I think,’ said Rekkid. ‘That we should be leaving. We are quite possibly in an enormous amount of danger.’

‘Danger?’ said Reynaud. ‘What danger is there?’

‘Because,’ said Rekkid slowly. ‘If I’m correct, then this ship represents one of the greatest threats to our species. Oh god, it’s all so clear now

the writing

no wonder it contains Progenitor script…’

‘Then why are we still alive if it so dangerous? Don’t be so dramatic, Professor,’ Reynaud scoffed. ‘What harm is a dead ship? Marines, use your cutting gear to open this door please.’

The two men stepped forward and removed plasma cutting torches from their belts. Rekkid started to protest.

‘Look, we have no idea what could lie in wait for us in there

.’

‘Maybe we should investigate,’ said Katherine. ‘Maybe someone could still be alive in there. Someone does keep asking me to help them.’

She heard Rekkid utter a groan as the marines began cutting the surface of the hatch. The guttering actinic glare cast flickering shadows over the scene.

‘Cox here,’ said the Admiral. ‘You will proceed inside and investigate the human ship, if that’s what it is. God knows how it got there, but as long as there is no visible threat, then continue. Doctor Reynaud, are you satisfied that it is safe?’

‘Absolutely Admiral,’ Reynaud replied. ‘Professor Cor is being a little… melodramatic.’ Reynaud smirked at Rekkid as he returned the insult levelled against him earlier. There was a dull clang as the cut section of the hatch fell inward onto the deck behind, to show a narrow corridor of antique, but familiar design.

‘Rekkid,’ said Katherine over a private channel. ‘I don’t trust Reynaud enough to let him in here on his own. I suggest we gather as much information that we can, and get off this rock. Am I correct in assuming that this is a Shaper vessel that we’re standing in?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘We need to get back to Mentith, or get in touch with Haines and let them know about this. If you’re right, this thing needs to be destroyed, not studied. Or at least secured somewhere where it can do no harm. You and I both know that the Arkari should handle this, not the Navy, and certainly not where over inquisitive, over ambitious and incautious types like Cox and Reynaud are concerned. This thing is like bait to them.’

‘And are we any better I wonder?’ said Rekkid. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Reynaud and the marines had already stepped inside. Katherine and Rekkid moved to join them. Once inside, Katherine stopped and looked around. It was the same ship. Everything was identical to her dream: from the scuffed deck plating to the cramped design and the antiquated computer consoles fixed to the walls. She recognised this section now too. They were just aft of the main bridge. The hatch they had just burned through was one of the docking ports for this section. The inner door had been left open, oddly. Odder still, the ship still had power. Those antique computer consoles and other interfaces were quite clearly active, and the interior lights shone brightly.

‘We should go to the bridge,’ said Katherine. ‘Maybe we can access the ship’s log from there, or something. We need to find out what happened to her.’

‘Agreed,’ said Reynaud, who took one look at the signs on the walls and made for the bridge. The rest of them followed. Reynaud had just entered the bridge itself. It was gloomy, lit by low level lighting and the glow of displays. Then the others heard his startled cry. The two marines pushed past Katherine and Rekkid to reach him, and they too were heard to gasp in horror.

The bridge was as Katherine remembered it, except for one major addition. Where the captain’s chair had been, there was now a tangled mass of alien machinery that plunged downwards through the ceiling to the floor. It was as if it had punched through the ship itself to invade it. As she grew closer she realised to her horror that there was flesh within that jumbled pile. Human flesh.

The remains of a man were clearly visible. His tortured face seemed to scream in silent agony at the black tendrils of alien technology that burrowed into his eyes, down into his throat, and through the very fabric of his skull. They were visible under what was left of his skin, pulsing silently as if alive. Little was left of the rest of his body. His torso disappeared into the electronic morass of crystalline shards, tangled bundles of tendrils that spread and divided like veins of black ichor and fatter cables that flexed rhythmically. The man’s flesh merged with the alien metals, the flayed skin and distorted muscle stretched and pinned and invaded until it was hard to tell where the man ended and the machines began. His limbs had been removed entirely. The stumps of arms now sprouted more of the evil looking cables, whereas the pelvis was buried deep within the machines. The ship had taken his brain and discarded the rest of his body, replacing it with its own diabolical methods of sustaining life.

She heard one of the marines curse, and try to prevent himself from vomiting inside his suit.

‘Dear god,’ said Reynaud quietly. ‘What sort of

of power could do this?’

‘What sort of evil you mean,’ said Rekkid. ‘The alien ship appears to have killed the crew and kept this poor man in some sort of state of near death for its own purposes, whatever they may be.’

‘Perhaps not, perhaps it tried to save him and bring him home?’ Reynaud conjectured.

‘Oh yes, he looks the very picture of health, wouldn’t you agree Katherine?’ Rekkid responded, sarcastically.

‘That poor man

’ she said. ‘He should have died decades ago and instead he lived out those intervening years like this.’

The flesh around the man’s violated eye sockets twitched visibly. What was left of his face convulsed. She heard one of the marines swear and saw him draw his weapon. The figure of a man had appeared in the space between them. He was middle aged and uniformed with thinning, close-cropped hair and an aquiline nose. She recognised him at once as the captain of the Magellan.

‘Stop!’ cried Rekkid. ‘It’s just a projection.’

‘You finally came,’ said the figure. ‘My name is Richard Blake, captain of the USS Magellan. I’m

not sure how long I can hold them off, but you need to listen me. My ship was captured and devoured by the alien ship you found. It killed my crew and did this to me.’ His hand indicated towards the horrific pillar before him. ‘Our ship took us all the way to the centre of the galaxy, right into the orbit of the central black hole. The race that built this ship reside there – The Shapers. They took my body from me, took away my humanity and made me a part of them. They

they made me submit, they tortured my mind until I could do nothing else

god look at me

look at what they did to me! They others

they

dissected them like lab rats. Those poor bastards, I can still hear their screams

They made me watch, they asked for my co-operation and when I refused, they cut them some more until there was nothing left but pieces. God knows how but they were still alive until the end.

They used my mind to find the location of Earth and find out everything they could about our species. They are interested in us, very interested. I’ve heard them speak - the only voices I heard until you came here

I’ve been so alone all these years

my mind a prison and I could only pry open the bars a fraction each time. I should be dead, and I want to die. I’ve wanted to for so long

You

ahhh.’ He winced as if in pain. ‘You should destroy this ship and warn whatever governments we have now. This vessel is too dangerous to remain here, and you should kill me, please.’

‘Why did you single me out?’ said Katherine. ‘The others reported visions and nightmares, but nothing like the ones I witnessed.’

‘After a time I found that I could use some of the ship’s systems independently, often only for a short period before it regained full control. I tried to speak to many who came here, to warn them, but I got no response, no recognition. It was so hard. At first I shattered their fragile minds by mistake with the raw power of this vessel. When I finally tuned the ship’s abilities to be less harmful I found that what I tried to tell them only produced confusion and hysteria. The human mind is complex and difficult to manipulate. You were different. With you I found a pattern of recognition that I could exploit to communicate with you. You have seen those who enslaved me before. You know them. I knew that you would listen and understand. The Arkari too, I could read his mind and see what he had seen, but I couldn’t communicate with him, his alien psyche was too different, I had never even seen his like before.’

‘You spoke to me too,’ said Reynaud. ‘You showed me the most wonderful things.

‘No,’ said Blake’s image. ‘It was the ship. The ship was reaching out to touch people’s minds, to tempt them, to lead them here. I exploited it, undermined its systems to send a warning when I could. I had to show people its true nature, its true horror. There are things out there in the dark

Sometimes

they intruded and stopped me. Don’t try to access the ship’s log or any of its systems, they infested it with many malicious programs and routines that would give them total access to your systems and infest them like a plague. Your computer systems are like toys to them. Your security mechanisms would present no obstacle. That’s what they do, you see, they devour, they absorb and the change things to suit themselves. You become like them, enslaved in darkness. I

’ He seemed to double over as if in pain. ‘Please, kill me, destroy the ship.’ His voice was desperate now, pleading. ‘Please, I’ve wanted to die for so long

they’re

’ His image flickered and vanished.

‘Don’t even think about it!’ barked Cox over the comm. ‘This ship is property of the Commonwealth Navy and any damage it suffers as a result of a deliberate act will be treated as a crime.’

‘Sorry, were you not listening?’ said Rekkid. ‘We need to destroy this thing, right now.’

‘I am aware of what that recording just told you, but we have a secure location prepared for the study of this ship. If this was built by a hostile race we need to know our enemy through studying their technology.’

‘And who would be studying who, Admiral?’ Rekkid shot back angrily. ‘You are way out of your depth here. You need to contact Vice Admiral Haines immediately about this.’

‘Vice Admiral Haines is not in the loop on this operation. He is currently overseeing the demilitarisation of the former imperial territories.’

‘Then I’ll do it myself.’

‘You’re way out of line here, Professor. This is a classified military operation run on a need-to-know basis. That was made explicitly clear to you both when you signed on here. You may be civilians, but any betrayal of the top secret information that you have been privy to you will result in criminal proceedings.’

‘Well it seems that there’s only one way to settle this,’ said Katherine.

She had sidled up behind Corporal Stamp, who remained transfixed by the awful pillar of flesh and metal before him. In one swift move she grabbed his rifle and shouldered him out of the way. Caught by surprise, the man stumbled and tripped. As his colleague shouted in alarm she thumbed off the safety and unloaded the entire magazine of depleted uranium slugs into the remains of Blake’s skull, pulverising it. Before it was annihilated, she swore she saw the trace of a smile on those tortured features.

‘God damn it!’ bellowed Cox into the comm. ‘How dare you! Marines, arrest Doctor O’Reilly immediately! Destruction of Navy property, assault on one of our men

’

As Jones lowered his rifle to cover Katherine, the sound of heavy booted feet could already be heard hammering up the corridor towards them. Rekkid looked at her in admiration.

‘Fucking civilians!’ swore Cox. ‘Doctor, you will be detained. I’m going to throw the fucking book at you for this and anything I can make stick, I will! Do you realise the magnitude of what you’ve done!? My god, woman! The things we could have learned from him!’

‘It’s what he wanted,’ she said simply. ‘What was I supposed to do?’

Chapter 20

High above the plane of the ecliptic of the Hadar system, the Churchill slipped out of hyperspace and came smoothly to a complete stop. From this distance, the entire system was clearly visible to Chen as she sat in her command chair, her HUD monocle lowered over one eye, the device picking out for her the various bodies in the system with labels and orbital paths. As the ship began its scan of the system, the tracks of jumping ships began to appear on the display, their warp wakes highlighted as rapidly moving trails.

‘Report,’ said Chen to Lieutenant Commander Singh, manning the ship’s sensors.

‘No sign of the Profit Margin,’ he replied. ‘None of the engine signatures we’ve detected match a ship of that type. If Isaacs is still in the system, he’s docked somewhere.’

‘Alright.’ She turned to Ensign Andrews at the comm. station. ‘Ensign, contact Barstow traffic control. Ask them for the whereabouts of the Profit Margin.’

‘Yes sir.’

Andrews contacted Barstow Station via the hypercom.

‘Admiral, Barstow reports that the Profit Margin was docked in one of its bays until oh-nine-thirty hours standard, yesterday morning,’ Andrews reported. ‘She posted a false destination and jumped in-system to the fourth planet of Hadar A, Inyo. Barstow lost track of them at that point due to the planet obscuring their sensors. There are no registered settlements either around Inyo or on any of its moons.’

‘Okay, so maybe he went to a hidden base there, or maybe he was clever and jumped again. Alright, let’s check it out. Helm, plot a course for Hadar A4, best speed.’

Chen watched the star-field beyond the bridge windows shift slightly, then vanish as the ship jumped.

It took the Churchill barely ten minutes to reach Inyo and its system of moons. The carrier emerged high above the north pole of the gas giant and began scanning for any signs of ships or settlements. The banded clouds of the planet formed a wine coloured bullseye in front of the ship.

‘Anything?’ said Chen to Singh.

‘That’s a negative. No signs of life here.’

‘Commander Haldane, I want our recon wings out there. Have them search the moons and ring system. It’s possible that there’s something we can’t detect from here.’

Haldane set about passing the order down to the flight deck. Within a few minutes the small, nimble shapes of Seraphim reconnaissance fighters emerged from the bow of the Churchill. The sleek craft, slightly larger than the Azrael torpedo bombers that the Churchill also carried, would be able to sweep the space around Inyo in a few minutes. Chen watched them jump out in scattered directions towards the planet and its family of moons.

‘The other possibility is that he jumped elsewhere,’ said Chen. ‘Stopping off here could just have been a trick to disguise his real destination, whatever that is. It’s a common smuggler’s trick. If Isaacs has reverted to his old business habits, this could explain his behaviour. Mr Singh, widen your search to include the position of the planet Inyo between nine and eleven hundred hours yesterday.’

‘Widening search,’ Singh replied, then scrutinised his console for a few moments. Chen saw his brow furrow.

‘Any luck?’ she asked.

‘Possibly, we’d need to get in closer. From here it looks like two different warp wakes become one.’

‘Alright, pass the coordinates to the helm. Helm, take us to Mr Singh’s coordinates. Comms, have our recon wings informed of our change of position and have them rendezvous with us there.’

The Churchill made another short jump of just over one hundred thousand kilometres to emerge within twenty kilometres of the coordinates that Lieutenant Commander Singh had specified. At this stand-off position, the powerful jump drive of the Saturn class carrier wouldn’t perturb the space-time distortions left by the recent passage of any vessels through the volume. As soon as the vessel re-emerged from hyperspace, Singh set about scanning at higher resolution.

‘It does seem that two ships jumped in from different directions,’ said Singh. ‘Both ships are approximately the same size as the Profit Margin. However, it then appears that they then jumped together to within orbit of the innermost planet, Furnace. I’ve extrapolated their trajectory and it matches the position of the planet around eleven fifteen yesterday, standard.’

‘Good work, Mr Singh,’ said Chen. ‘Commander Haldane, recall our recon wings. Helm, plot a course to the position Mr Singh is about to relay to you. Prepare to jump once all our ships are aboard.’

Chen was starting to get a little tired of this wild goose chase. Just what was Isaacs playing at? Had he been tipped off that he was being followed, or was he just involved in some shady transactions that he’d rather the locals couldn’t trace? Repeated jumping like this smacked of paranoia. Who was it that he was running from? Did he still think Bennett’s men were tailing him, or was he running from her? If the latter answer was correct, she wanted to know why.

It took a few minutes to recall the recon ships from Inyo and its esoteric collection of moons. Once the small craft had all docked, the Churchill came about and jumped once more.

They emerged a few minutes later in the orbit of Furnace. The planet itself was now over eighty thousand kilometres distant along its orbital track, a bright waxing crescent bathing in the radiation from the Hadar A star.

Singh set about his scanning tasks once more. He looked frustrated.

‘Results, Lieutenant Commander?’ said Chen.

‘Not good I’m afraid. The planet has passed over the point in space where the ships must have emerged. Its gravity well has disturbed the warp wakes too much, I’m afraid. I can tell that they jumped out again, but I can’t tell you where to.’

‘Try widening the scope.’

‘I have. There’s too much traffic in this part of the system. Freighters come and go from the arrays around the star all the time around here. We’re not far off one of the main shipping lanes. The wake of a small ship like the Profit Margin would easily be lost amongst all those bigger ships. My guess is that Isaacs knew this and used it to his advantage. Given the direction of the local lanes, I’d say that either they jumped out of the system entirely, or that they crossed back over to the Hadar B star.

Chen swore silently to herself. Isaacs had given her the slip again. Whatever he knew, it had better be worth it, and just what the hell was he playing at?

‘Alright,’ she said. ‘I think our only remaining course of action is this: we put out a general request to detain Captain Isaacs and his ship wherever he docks next. Ensign Andrews see to it, make sure that you stress that he is merely to be detained or delayed, but that he is not to be placed under arrest. Secondly, I think we should make ourselves known to the Navy assets within this system. Doubtless they’ve picked us up on their long range sensors and are wondering what we’re doing here. Perhaps if we can work with them, we might uncover some information that could help us. I understand that this system is plagued with pirate activity. It’s conceivable that Isaacs may have had some dealings with them and maybe the Navy’s intel people can help us to track them down. The main base in this system, Centre Point Harbour, lies in the Lagrange point between the two stars. Helm, lay in a course to it and jump immediately.’

Filled with frustration, she watched as the view outside swung around and then vanished as the carrier’s jump drive engaged.

Haldane turned to her: ‘Admiral if I might have a word in your office?’

‘Certainly Commander,’ she replied. ‘Lieutenant Commander Singh, you have the bridge.’

In her office, she chose one of the small armchairs to sit in. Haldane sat opposite, remaining formal and upright despite the more casual setting. He really did have a rod up his arse, Chen thought. She remembered when she’d been the same. He was young, ambitious and keen. Haldane was a good Commander, but at times he needed to relax a little, she thought.

‘What’s on your mind John?’ she asked.

‘This mission. It seems like a waste of resources. We’re on a fruitless chase across half of the Commonwealth and we’ve yet to find this Captain Isaacs. Wouldn’t we be better working through more covert means? We’re tying up an entire carrier with this mission. Surely we could be better deployed elsewhere?’

Chen sighed. Haldane had a point. It seemed stupid to use a whole carrier for this mission: the pursuit of one man.

‘John, you’re absolutely correct. However we are acting under orders, so until we find Isaacs, I’m afraid this absurd situation will have to continue. On the other hand, what Isaacs may know is perhaps important enough to warrant use of such resources as ourselves. We’re the fastest ship class in the fleet and the craft that we carry allow us to search and sweep a system much more quickly than other vessels. Tell me: What do you know of the Shapers?’

‘More than a little. I see most of the same briefs that you do. The only thing I’m exempted from is the higher level briefings that you receive from Haines and Mentith.’

‘Then you know how scant our information on them is, don’t you?’ Haldane nodded. ‘John, we think that Isaacs may have seen them in the flesh and he may have seen them implant people with their parasites. He’s almost certainly been inside one of their vessels. What he knows may be of incalculable value to us. We can’t just let him slip through our fingers. However my next course of action, should we be unsuccessful, would be to suggest that our commanders make use of intelligence operatives to track him down. Who knows, maybe they already are? Maybe we’re the beaters to flush him out? You ever think about that?’

‘Need to know basis, huh?’

‘Exactly. John, I’m glad you came to me. If the crew express any doubts about our mission or morale seems low, you’ll let me know won’t you? I know that they’re all used to working within rather more unusual situations than the regular Navy, but all the same, I’d appreciate it if you could deal with their concerns if they arise and keep me up to date.’

‘Of course Admiral,’ Haldane replied smartly.

‘Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘Very well, dismissed.’

She watched him stride stiffly out and shook her head. He was certainly different to her last XO. Even if he had turned out to be an intelligence mole, Ramirez had been easy going, confident and popular with her crew. She still missed him terribly. What she could never tell Haldane was that her zeal in tracking down anything that might give humanity an advantage over the Shapers was everything to do with Ramirez’s death at the hands of their proxy forces. The thought of his broken body lying in the bowels of that alien place still had the capacity to move her to tears, as well as the anger she felt at his senseless death - that and the fates of all the others there that day who hadn’t made it.

The Churchill jumped into the traffic control area around Centre Point Harbour and immediately began hailing the station for a path to a suitable parking area around the station. Centre Point Harbour consisted of a vast superstructure holding the administrative and command offices for the naval assets in this volume of space. From this, a great archipelago of struts and gantries spread outwards to provide berths for up fifty spacecraft. A block of a further ten dry dock facilities radiated from the base of the central structure above the bulbous module containing the station’s main reactor. These dry docks were large enough to accommodate the largest naval vessels and could be filled with breathable atmosphere for the purpose of creating an environment where ships could be worked on in safety.

Such bases were fairly common throughout the Commonwealth. They could be quickly constructed and provided a fully equipped safe haven for ships as well as limited r-and-r facilities for their crews - or at least a shuttle to the nearest civilian outpost.

For a base in such a remote region however, Centre Point Harbour was extremely busy. The harbour surrounding the station was almost full of Navy vessels. Chen counted a force of over twenty destroyers as well as the Jupiter class carrier Germanicus, a Saturn class carrier like the Churchill with the designation Nimitz, the Marathon, a Charon class Marine assault carrier, as well as a vast number of accompanying smaller warships of varying types and design from the battle-groups of each carrier. They had an armada here. Maybe there was an exercise due to start, she mused, although she hadn’t heard of any scheduled. It seemed a little excessive to deploy all of these ships for anything else other than a full scale military venture. There was enough hardware here to start a small war, and win it too.

‘Ensign Andrews, put me through to Centre Point Harbour and get me the ranking officer aboard,’ said Chen as she continued to ponder the scene before her. Andrews carried out her order, then the image of the station commander appeared before Chen via her HUD monocle display.

‘Good day Churchill, this is Commander Hasan of Centre Point Harbour. What I can I do for you? You’re arrival is rather unexpected. We weren’t informed of any Special Forces deployments in this system.’

‘Commander, we’re on a mission to track down a particular vessel in this system. She’s an independent trading vessel, a cargo cutter, Stallion class, designation Profit Margin. Our deployment here was not scheduled. Our mission is classified, but we were wondering if you could render us some assistance. We believe that the captain of this vessel may associate with pirates or operate in areas of borderline legality at the very least. We were wondering what intelligence you had in this area.’

‘Admiral, believe me when I say that if we knew where the pirates in this system were coming from, we’d have eliminated them by now. Even with the deployment of so many vessels and the concerted efforts of the both the military and local law enforcement we are still unable to track them down. They still continue to plague shipping in Hadar. We believe, however, that they may have a base somewhere in the outer system, but locating it has been a problem.’

‘Is that what all these ships are for? Seems a little excessive for a pirate problem.’

‘No, ah

’ Hasan hesitated. ‘I’m afraid these ships are part of a classified operation.’

‘I see.’

‘I’m informed on a need to know basis ma’am All we know is that we’re guarding all ships coming and going from Rhyolite, one of the moons of Beatty and defending the volume around the gas giant and its moon system from the Hidden Hand.’

‘The Hidden Hand?’

‘It’s what the pirates call themselves. I guess they thought it sounded enigmatic.’

Something rang alarm bells in Chen’s mind. With her level of security clearance within Spec Ops she was generally informed of any major operations the Navy was undertaking. Haines liked to keep her in the loop as far as possible. Her position required that she be given a more strategic view of Commonwealth operations. So why had she not heard of this?

‘Commander, who is in command of operations in this system?’

‘That would be Admiral Cox, ma’am. He’s not on the station at the moment. He’s personally overseeing operations on Rhyolite.’

‘Need to know basis hmm?’

‘Sorry Admiral. I shouldn’t be saying this, but we’ve heard some strange stories about what’s going on down there. Some of us are getting worried. You didn’t hear it from me though.’

‘Thank you Commander. If you would be so good as to patch me through to Admiral Cox. I think I’d like to speak with him. I will of course repeat nothing that you have told me on this occasion, but you would do well to exercise a little discretion in future. Your career may depend upon it. If you could also transfer a copy of any intelligence you have on the pirate situation in this system.’

‘Yes ma’am, thank you,’ replied Hasan nervously. ‘Centre Point out. Patching you though. I’ll ensure the necessary files are transferred to your ship’s computer.’

Chen knew of Cox. She had even met him once, briefly, at a naval tactics symposium back on Mars. He’d struck her as bull headed and abrasive, but ambitious nonetheless. She had to admit, he was a decent tactician. Some of the suggestions he had made at the symposium had surprised even Haines. She also knew that his ambition had been thwarted, that his inability to play the political game and his long standing rivalry with the Fleet Admiral had hindered his promotion prospects and resulted in him commanding domestic operations whilst Haines carved up the K’Soth Empire.

Under Cox’s command, piracy had certainly been dealt a severe blow within the Commonwealth. No doubt this was the reason he had been deployed here to take on these Hidden Hand types. Yet Cox remained a Vice Admiral, only a rank above herself, despite him being around two decades older and without glory or medals to his name, save for those denoting long service. Just what was he doing out here in the Hadar system, running his own secret operations?

‘Admiral, transmission coming through from Rhyolite. It’s Admiral Cox,’ reported Andrews.

‘Thank you Ensign, put him through to my office.’ Chen got up. ‘Mr Haldane, you have the bridge.’

She walked to her adjoining office at the rear of the bridge, shut the door and sat at her desk, activating the integrated console as she did so. Admiral Cox’s face filled the screen, the grey of his moustache contrasting sharply with his dark skin. The picture was a little grainy. Probably a result of radiation from Beatty or the moon’s atmosphere itself, Chen mused.

‘Good afternoon Admiral Chen,’ he said. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure? I’m a little busy at the moment as you can see. Goddamn civilians are causing me a headache.’

She noticed that Cox was wearing an environment suit. The helmet was removed, but the raised edge of the neck seal formed a broad collar about his throat.

‘I’m here on behalf of Special Operations Command, sir. We’re attempting to track down a trading vessel by the name of Profit Margin, the captain’s one Caleb Isaacs. We were wondering if you could offer us any assistance.’

‘Huh,’ he snorted. ‘I heard you were one of Haines’s attack dogs these days Michelle. Part of his secret army too now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Still, I got to hand it to you. I hear you handed those K’Soth bastards their asses on a plate during the war, so I can’t blame Haines for taking a liking to you. Anyone who dished it out to those fucking lizards is alright by me.’

‘Thank you sir,’ she said, feeling a touch of pride.

‘As for that ship you’re looking for, well

we get hundreds of vessels like that through here. I take it you checked the dock records?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, she left Barstow yesterday, but we think that she’s still in system somewhere. We tried tracing the vessel, but we lost the scent I’m afraid.’

‘Then the pilot’s probably involved with the pirates in this system. Believe me, the number of times we tried to track their vessels. The assholes must have the gravity wells of the bodies in this system worked out to the cubic centimetre. I swear to god, we nearly lost more than a couple of ships trying to follow them.’

‘I concur. We also tried to trace him and ran into difficulties.’

‘So what do you want this guy for then? Spec Ops don’t usually deal with piracy problems. What did he do that got you so worked up?’

‘I can’t be specific I’m afraid, sir. It’s not what he’s done, it’s what he’s seen. We just want to talk to him and maybe detain him for his own protection. Commander Hasan informed us that you believe that the main pirate group in this system have a base somewhere in the outer system.’

‘Hadar has very large Kuiper belt, due to the size of the system. There’s also a correspondingly large Oort cloud and a hell of a lot of asteroids in eccentric orbits. We already swept the belt around Hadar A with no success and the trojan clusters of the gas giants with similar results. Our guess is that either the Hidden Hand are based further out, or that they have a larger ship or ships that they use as a base, although we’ve not seen any evidence to support the latter so far. Sorry I can’t be of more help.’

‘That’s quite alright sir. We’ll continue our search. I’ll let you know if we find anything. If I might ask, is the piracy problem so severe that you’ve deployed all these ships to counter it?’

‘No. The three carrier groups under my command are part of our operations here on Rhyolite, although we have on occasion used them to counter pirate attacks.’

‘Sir, if I might enquire about your operations on Rhyolite.’

‘You may not, Admiral Chen. This mission is classified.’

‘Admiral, my position within Special Operations Command grants me Alpha Kappa level clearance and permission to question any officer or enlisted man or woman within the Navy.’

Cox seemed to bridle at that.

‘And as your superior officer, Rear Admiral Chen, I’m telling you that although this operation is beneath your level of clearance, I believe it is not in the interests of the Navy to divulge its details. I will tell you only this: that we have found advanced alien technology on the surface of Rhyolite that may yield great benefits to humanity. The ships you see are to ensure the security of the operation.’

Three carrier battle groups? Chen thought. Just what had Cox found that needed that level of protection?

‘Sir if I might enquire as to what you’ve found?’

‘Absolutely out of the question. I’m sorry Admiral Chen, but if you want access to more detail than that I suggest that you go through the Joint Chiefs. Admiral Morgan was very specific about maintaining security on this operation.’

‘Does Haines know?’

‘Haines?’ Cox snorted. ‘What business is it of his? This operation is under my command, not his.’

Haines doesn’t know, Chen thought with alarm. What the hell is Cox up to here? Why is the discovery of advanced alien technology being withheld from Special Operations Command? Surely we should be in the loop from the start?

‘I’m sorry, sir. It wasn’t my intention to step on your toes.’

‘I bet. You Spec Ops types need to learn a little respect once in a while. I may not be a Fleet Admiral, but I’m still your superior officer. This operation is off limits. I appreciate your help with the pirate problem, but keep your nose out where it isn’t wanted.’

Why is Cox being so defensive? She wondered. It surely can’t be just professional rivalry with Haines. She could understand the irritation of a more junior officer being able to make demands of her seniors, but there was something about Cox’s manner. Was he so desperate to improve his career? What had he found? Her suspicion and curiosity were piqued.

‘You’re absolutely right, sir,’ she replied. ‘My apologies.’

‘Accepted,’ Cox grunted. ‘If there’s nothing else I’d like to get back to work.’

‘There’s nothing else, sir. Chen out.’

Cox grunted an affirmation. She terminated the transmission and returned to the bridge.

Haldane stood as she approached.

‘Admiral. Your orders?’

‘Admiral Cox has confirmed what Commander Hasan told us, but unfortunately nothing more. Our best bet of finding Isaacs is to sweep the outer system and try to find a base of some kind. There is apparently a highly organised pirate group in this system. Have Centre Point transferred the necessary files?’

‘Files have been received, and yes, it does seem that way. I understand that then inner system has been repeatedly swept by naval patrols.’

‘Quite so, which leaves us the outer system and one hell of a task. However, I have decided on a change of tactics. Perhaps we can make Isaacs come to us. In addition, Admiral Cox has presented me with something of a mystery that I’d like some answers to. Helm, set course for Barstow Station around Beatty’s moon, Rhyolite.’

‘What’s your plan, Admiral?’ said Haldane as the ship began to turn away from Centre Point Station.

‘Simple. We know Isaacs is in all probability within this system. I say that I make him another job offer. If he responds, it’ll save us a lot of time and effort. I’ll send an email to him, using the form and code-words we used on his previous job. Next time he docks, his ship will pick it up.’

‘Assuming he docks at a station with a hypercom node. If he’s consorting with pirates, they may not.’

‘Oh, they will. Piracy thrives on information. They’d need to hack into the shipping data for this system in order to plan their raids. My bet is that any pirate base would have a heavily disguised and firewalled link to the hypercom net. We tell Isaacs to meet us at Barstow at an appointed time with the promise of another lucrative contract and we see if he shows up. Even if he just replies and refuses it’s a start. We can trace the origin of the message. If not, we search the system, but you can appreciate why I’d rather not.’

‘And the mystery that Admiral Cox has presented you with, ma’am?’

‘Cox is up to something on the surface of Rhyolite, Commander. He was very intent about withholding information about it from both Admiral Haines, ourselves and our outfit. I want to know what he’s up to. If we dock at Barstow we may be able to take a sly look at what’s going on down there. He said that they’ve found some ancient alien technology and that all those ships are here for the sole purpose of defending it. But he was very evasive when I attempted to press him further on the details.’

‘Commander Hasan said that he was worried about what was going on on the moon.’

‘Yes indeed. I’m starting to wonder what we’ve stumbled across.’

‘There’s no record of this operation in the classified despatches?’

‘None, which is what makes me uneasy, Commander. Cox appears to be pursuing his own agenda here.’

The Churchill emerged from her jump near to Barstow Station and came to a dead stop just outside the traffic control zone. Having been assigned a designated parking position in the space around the station, the massive carrier slowly nosed its way into the busy shipping lanes that converged on the slowly revolving habitat.

On board, Chen sat in her office putting the final touches to her job offer to Isaacs. Using the coded language she had already used on his previous communications, she promised him further work if he docked with the Churchill within the next twenty four hours or if he simply replied to her message. The ship would remain at Barstow for the duration. The language used in the message would make no sense to a casual observer. Although Isaacs’ email address was a standard public one, anyone else intercepting the message would not be able to decipher the hidden meaning in the email. To anyone but her and Isaacs, the message would seem fairly innocuous. The message completed, she sent it to his address and crossed her fingers.

Returning to the bridge she found Haldane waiting for her.

‘We’ve assumed a parking position near the station, Admiral. What now?’ he asked.

‘Draw up a list of the twenty nearest asteroidal bodies in eccentric orbits that are over half a kilometre in length. Launch our recon wings to check them out for signs of habitation.’

‘Yes Admiral. Lieutenant O’Rourke?’ he turned to the young officer at navigation. ‘Pull up the system chart and start compiling that list.’

‘Already on it sir,’ O’Rourke replied, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him.

‘Good,’ said Haldane, and turned back to Chen. ‘Admiral, with respect: Surely our presence here will not go unnoticed? Any undesirables in the system will surely have gone to ground.’

‘Yes, unavoidable I’m afraid. Have Commander Blackman take a squad aboard the station, out of uniform. If they hang around a few of the seedier bars they might be able to pick up something. If our presence is causing a stir I’d like to know who is talking about us and why. I’m sure local law enforcement might be able to help us locate such places.’

‘Very good, I’ll see to it.’

‘In the meantime, I’d like Lieutenant Commander Singh here to keep a track of all navy and government registered ships travelling to and from the surface of Rhyolite. I want to know where they’re landing down there.’

‘Admiral Cox didn’t tell you the location of his operation?’

‘No.’

‘The Navy operates on a need to know basis after all.’

‘Yes indeed. But our rather unique role requires that we do need to know. I’m going on my instincts here Commander. Something about this situation doesn’t feel right at all.’

Chen busied herself with the information that Commander Hasan had provided them with. The reports on the Hidden Hand spoke of a highly organised pirate organisation that had been present in this system and a handful of neighbouring ones for nearly two years. Ships had been disappearing all over this part of space. Attacks had increased in intensity and frequency over the past six months but had shifted sole focus to the Hadar system. Naval intelligence efforts had so far failed to locate a base of any kind, but based on the frequency of the attacks and the types of ships involved, they believed it to lie somewhere in the vast outlying regions of the system. What was clear, however, was that the Hidden Hand had considerable resources and personnel at their disposal including a large fleet of modern ships, detailed intelligence on civilian and military shipping and highly accurate navigational information of this entire sector which they used to their advantage to both surprise their victims and shake off pursuers.

The carrier Germanicus and its battle group under the command of Admiral Cox had been dispatched to the system six months previously to deal with the escalating problem. Although Cox had been unable to track down the Hidden Hand to their lair, his use of Thea class reconnaissance frigates had yielded some disturbing results: mysterious ships that appeared fleetingly on their instruments and moved at speeds unmatched by human vessels. Cox’s conclusion had been that these vessels and the Hidden Hand were connected somehow, that an alien power was aiding these pirates to wage a proxy war against the Commonwealth and its interests in this part of space. His theories were, as yet, unproven, although a correlation between the appearance of these ships and attacks on Commonwealth shipping had been tenuously established.

Chen browsed through the files, and noticed with a start that Hasan had appended other documents. She read Cox’s request for a Marine assault carrier five months earlier.

To: Admiral Jeffrey Morgan, Naval Joint Chief of Staff

From: Vice Admiral Charles Cox, CNV Germanicus

Following the discovery of the alien vessel on the moon of Rhyolite (Hadar B5c) request the deployment of a Marine assault carrier to the system. Additional ground, atmospheric and space forces required for the defence of the site and the construction of a suitable habitat for the housing of my research team. It is vital that we secure this prize for the Commonwealth. Rumours of the supposed psychological effects of working on the alien vessel since we began the operation a month ago have proved to be little more than that. The unfortunate death of contracted civilian engineer Solanki has been attributed to an aneurism and is not being treated as suspicious.

—Message Ends–

An alien ship? So that was what Cox had found on the moon… Hasan had said that he was worried about what was happening on the moon hadn’t he? Now he had shown her evidence of what Cox had found and of a death having occurred. She found another document below. This time it was a list of vessels attacked by the Hidden Hand over the previous six months. She scrolled down it. Over three dozen vessels had been attacked, with roughly two thirds of them destroyed, including a couple of warships, the cruiser Cato and the frigate Anaxes. The others were all Navy cargo vessels, commercial transports and private vessels. She noticed an important detail. All of the vessels had been travelling to the vicinity of Rhyolite and all of them had been carrying military cargoes, not just the Navy ships. All of the others had been chartered by the Navy to transport men and material to the moon. All had been attacked by the Hidden Hand.

There was a third and final document. It amounted to a casualty list from the site on Rhyolite. Over twenty individuals had been hospitalised with chronic hallucinations, waking nightmares, insomnia or stress related complaints so severe that they had been unable to work. Two deaths were also listed, that of the engineer who had died of an aneurism and a Marine who had simply walked out into the moon’s poisonous atmosphere and removed his suit helmet.

Whatever Cox had found down there, it was killing his men. Not only that, but it looked like the Hidden Hand were trying in vain to stop him. No doubt Commander Hasan knew only too well, or at least he had heard enough rumours, as to what was going on and he was trying to alert her. She needed as much information as possible before she in turn reported back to Haines. Hopefully Singh’s monitoring of the traffic going to and from the moon would yield some results as to the location of Cox’s secret project.

Chapter 21

Isaacs stayed with Anna until the small hours of the morning. They spent the time getting re-acquainted with another. Anna showed him around the base, through the warren of tunnels and compartments in the rock that bustled with the comings and goings of as broad a spectrum of people from the fringes of the space-borne life as Isaacs had ever seen. Humans, Hyrdians, Vreeth, Xeelin, even a couple of K’Soth and Esacir wandered the halls. Pilots, engineers, traders, pimps, drug dealers, arms traffickers, spies, hustlers and minor aristocracy from a hundred worlds co-existed alongside one another within Port Royal.

Were it not for the obvious criminal element it was almost a model collectivised community. Even so, it appeared at first glance to be a fairly harmonious place despite the presence of shadier elements. All were united in a common cause, as all had experienced the Shapers’ predations. Some, like the pilots and engineers, were in front line of the fight, crewing and repairing the Hidden Hand’s fleet of combat vessels. Others like the arms dealers and traders supplied them with weapons and supplies, whilst some, like the pimps and drug dealers operated throughout the sector providing certain entertainments to those in need of them out here in this distant outpost.

Anna took him for a meal in the amazingly well provisioned mess and for a walk in the hydroponic gardens at the heart of the asteroid, where fruit trees and small regular fields of carefully tended crops served both as a means of self sufficiency and a place of relaxation. Right now, in the middle of the night-cycle, the dimly lit gardens resounded to the night calls of imported creatures as they flitted amongst the plant life that filled the air with mingling heavy scents.

It amazed Isaacs how after such a long time apart and after all that had happened between them that they felt so comfortable in each others’ presence. He had expected their meeting to be awkward at best. Instead, it was like they had never been apart from one another. Isaacs realised almost at once just how much he had really missed her. He even confessed to his current situation with Anita. Anna merely nodded as though the fact was no surprise to her and asked him if he planned to continue it. He replied truthfully that he didn’t think so, especially now and she seemed to accept his answer. Anna asked him if he intended to stay in Port Royal, whether he had thought about what she had said. He said that he had, and promised to stay for the time being and see how things worked out. She stood up on tip toes and kissed him softly when he said that, and he held her for a long time afterwards.

In the end though, he returned alone to his cabin aboard the Profit Margin. They both wanted to take things slowly. He left a message for Anita and explained things to her. She called him back later and seemed more happy than anything else, happy for him, which was a relief. He slept fitfully for hours aboard his ship for the first time in what seemed like ages.

He was woken next morning by someone banging on the Profit Margin’s hatch. He stumbled, bleary eyed with sleep, from his cabin and opened the hatch. Maria Velasquez was standing on the deck outside, eyeing him impatiently, her arms crossed across her t-shirted chest.

‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘You’re one heavy sleeper. I thought for a moment that you’d died. I was calling your ship for over half an hour. Didn’t you hear it?’

‘No, sorry. Guess it’s a long time since I had decent night’s sleep.’

‘Well anyway, now that you’ve joined the world of the living, I have a message for you. Our glorious leader wants to speak with you.’

‘You have a leader? I’d never had guessed. It seems out of place here somehow. You guys seem far too anti-establishment to take orders.’

‘Yeah we sort of work things out democratically, but if we have a leader, he’s it. Or at least, he’s our official contact with the Nahabe. We make our decisions based on his advice, and sometimes he issues what you might call orders.’

‘And you follow them?’

‘Well, yeah. Mainly because he’s never been wrong so far. Anyway, he wants to meet you. You ah

you might want to put some clothes on first though.’

Isaacs looked down at his underwear whose tattered state barely concealed his modesty and laughed.

‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Give me five minutes.’

‘Five minutes.’ Maria replied, phrasing it as an order.

‘Any chance of breakfast on the way?’ he asked and tried a winning smile. Maria rolled her eyes in response.

Following a hurried breakfast, Isaacs found himself following Maria down a long, curving corridor into the centre of Port Royal. It ended at a rather ordinary looking door. Maria pressed the call button on the wall panel at the side and waited. There was a quiet chime and a light on the panel turned green. Isaacs hesitated.

‘Well?’ Maria said. ‘What are you waiting for?’ She folded her arms and gave him that impatient look again.

‘Oh err, right. I’ll just go inside then?’

‘That’s the idea.’

Isaacs had a thought. ‘Look I know how touchy the Nahabe can be, how do I address him? I’d hate to offend my host straight away.’

‘He calls himself The Speaker, presumably because that’s basically what he does. We speak to the Nahabe and they to us, via him. I’d avoid any over familiarity and well, he doesn’t have much of a sense of humour. Anyway he asked to see you, not the other way around, so that places you at an advantage, I’d say. He wants to speak to you.’

‘Alright, thanks. Are you coming in?’

‘No, I’ll stay out here until you’re done. Have fun.’

‘Yeah, I’ll try,’ Isaacs replied and placed his hand on the door in front of him.

The room inside was lit by the light that flooded in from the broad window that formed the rear wall casting harsh shadows within. Beyond, the hydroponic gardens formed a green, tiered swathe. A single Nahabe sarcophagus floated behind a bank of alien consoles and other equipment designed for an unfamiliar physiology.

‘Good morning Captain Isaacs,’ said the Nahabe in flat, cultured artificial tones that emanated from its sarcophagus. ‘I am The Speaker, the conduit between my people and the Hidden Hand. I trust you slept well?’

‘Yes, I did. Thank you.’

‘I expect you’re wondering why I summoned you here.’

‘You want me to join you.’

‘Yes. But before you make your decision as to whether you do or not, I felt that it was important that we have a talk together. Perhaps if I reveal a few truths to you it may sway you one way or the other?’

‘Truths?’

‘Yes. My people have known of the Shapers for a very long time. We are a far older race than many people popularly imagine us to be. A million years ago we first achieved interstellar flight. At that time the first Arkari Empire held sway over much of this region of the galaxy. This was the first great resurgence of interstellar civilisation since the great collapse following the end of the Progenitor Empire at the hands of the Shapers several billion years earlier. The rule of the Arkari then was not as beneficent as it is now. Like all empires of conquest they sought to subjugate others via the use of military force. We learned to keep a low profile. Though we existed outside their borders, we had no wish for their gaze to turn upon us. Foolishly, they believed their empire to everlasting.’

‘This isn’t something the Arkari tend to discuss, I suspect. I’d never heard about any of this. I’d always assumed that were always, well, like they are now.’

‘No, it shames them. They know better now and dislike talk of their violent history. I gather that much of it has come to light in more recent years. In any case, eventually the Shapers came for the Arkari, who in their hubris were unable to see the danger. The Shapers were awoken from their aeons-long slumber by monitoring networks that they had specifically left in place to alert them to the presence of interstellar activity, for the Shapers crave dominion over others more than anything. Indeed, it is this instinct which had led them to almost destroy themselves, turning on one another for control of their crumbling realm until nothing was left, and few of them remained. Eventually it seems that they took the decision to hibernate until suitable slave races emerged.’

Isaacs’ head spun. The creature was attempting to give him a lesson on the past several billion years of galactic history. He wondered where all this was going. ‘The Shapers attempted to topple the Arkari Empire and enslave it. They succeeded in engineering a civil war which led to the Empire’s total collapse. But their scheme was unsuccessful. The militaristic faction under their sway was unsuccessful in gaining control and the collapse of the Empire was so total that the Arkari returned to their home-world and regressed to a state of almost medieval ignorance which persisted for many thousands of years. They were of no use to the Shapers. They had wanted a vassal state to control. Instead, they produced anarchy and destroyed what they had attempted to seize.’

‘So where do your people come in?’

‘Following the collapse of the Arkari, my own people, ignorant of the real reason for their civil war, began to forge our own interstellar realm in the power vacuum that had emerged. We spread outwards from our home-world across this volume of space, reaching peaks of technological sophistication that only the Arkari have so far managed to reach in recent years. For several thousand years we forged alliances and vast trading networks with other races and our society became a melting pot of cultures and peoples, much like your Commonwealth today but on a far grander scale. We grew rich, idle, decadent and depraved, until the Shapers came for us too. They were to be our nemesis, sent to punish us for our sin.’

‘But you survived. Your civilisation didn’t collapse did it?’

‘Not entirely. The Shapers were too hasty. In our case they infected us, turned some of our people against us, as they had the Arkari, in an attempt to foment civil war, then they attacked us directly with what ancient vessels they could muster. But they struck too early with their fleets and their forces were too few in number. Perhaps they underestimated our resolve. We managed to hold them off, for a time. It was time enough for us to enforce drastic measures in order to deal with them.’

‘Drastic measures?’

‘Yes. Up to this point we had roamed freely and unprotected amongst the other races that existed here at that time. Much like the Commonwealth, our race mingled with others. We believed that it was from these other races that the Shapers managed to infiltrate us. They were certainly successful in enslaving most of them, save for the Esacir whose isolation in their space borne cities protected them. In the end, we banished all alien life forms from our systems, and vowed only to make direct contact with other forms of life whilst protected by devices such as the one I inhabit now. Within it, I am entirely shielded from the outside world, seeing, hearing, smelling and tasting through secure systems that cannot be compromised.’

‘What happened to the other races?’

‘They were annihilated. In an act of desperation we bombarded their worlds with antimatter devices and exterminated them. The Shapers themselves attempted to lay siege to our systems, but without their allies and without any means to infect us they could not sustain the effort. After a number of decisive engagements they eventually gave up when it was clear that they could not subdue us and they slunk back to the core, back to their blasted cinders of worlds where they have remained until relatively recently.’

‘You wiped out entire species!?’

‘Yes. It is not something we are proud of, but it had to be done. Remember that they were no longer the free people that they had once been. They were no more than puppets. The Shapers did terrible things to them, twisted them, used them, fused them with their arcane machinery. What we did was regrettable as we could not save them, but we felt that we had little choice. This episode forms the cornerstone of our beliefs. We seek to absolve ourselves of the sins we were forced to commit in order to prevent other greater crimes and our own destruction. The sarcophagi we inhabit are our holy vestments which keep us pure when we go out amongst the other races. They are our armour and our punishment. For five hundred millennia we have meted out this penance upon ourselves so that our gods may forgive us for what we had to do and so we may keep ourselves pure. In order to preserve our liberty, we have been forced to forgo many freedoms.’

‘Now there’s an interesting irony. You turned yourselves into a bunch of fascists.’

‘No! What we did was for our own protection, not some perverted sense of racial purity. Perhaps others of my kind have misinterpreted such doctrine since, but it was the only way that we could survive! It was necessary. By adhering to our strict code of beliefs, we have prevented the Shapers from infiltrating our society for hundreds of thousands of years. Following our pyrrhic victory, when our cities and habitats lay in ruins, when our skies were blackened by ash, our people were quick to realise that this was the only way, the only way that we could rebuild and prosper! A mass of conversions to the new faith followed and we have adhered to our beliefs ever since.’

‘And those who don’t?’

The Speaker seemed to bridle further at that. ‘They are

taught the error of their mistake. If they will not conform, then they are confined. There is a particular world for them, where not even other Nahabe may tread.’

‘I see

’

‘Captain, this is not some kind of Gulag. We do not kill, torture or punish them in any other way. They are free to live their lives there as they would anywhere with the caveat that they may not move off-world. As long as they do not seek to pollute others with their lack of belief, they remain free.’

‘I see.’

‘It is better than the alternatives. We must not let our guard down again or it will be our undoing.’

‘A number of your people seem to think that the human race is heading the same way. I’ve seen your evangelists around, preaching hellfire and damnation, attempting to save our souls.’

‘Yes. Although they may seem a little extreme, they are attempting to help you. They are doing the gods’ work, or so they believe.’

‘Help us? But if your people are as sophisticated and as powerful as you say, why don’t you just intervene directly? Send us ships and weapons, instead of all this cloak and dagger stuff. I mean seriously, what hope have the Hidden Hand got against ancient alien races?’

The sarcophagus floated towards Isaacs. The whorls on its surface shimmered in the light.

‘It is not as

simple as that. We are isolationist for a very good reason. It is our defence, enshrined in holy writ. We have grown used to managing our own affairs and not interfering in those of others. Your Commonwealth is rotten to the core. Shaper agents move amongst the higher echelons of your government and little is done. What resources your government have committed to fighting this menace are insufficient, and even now are being undermined by agents of that very enemy! Believe me, there are many of us who would like a more direct approach, myself included. But the time is not yet right, and co-operation with the Commonwealth would expose us to far too much risk. If we were to act directly it would compromise our intelligence networks. For the moment we observe.’

‘How can you be sure of this?’

‘We have considerable intelligence resources. This outfit is one of them. Let me give you an example. Does the name Bennett sound familiar?’

‘Yeah. The Sirius Syndicate’s man in Achernar. He’s the slimy bastard who tried to extort money from me. I gather he tried to have me tailed.’

‘Very good. Were you aware that Bennett was working for the Shapers?’

‘Shit! You’re kidding?’

‘We were aware of links between the Sirius Syndicate and a number of individuals within the Commonwealth government and armed forces. At first we suspected the usual corruption/bribery/blackmail scenarios, but it became clear that the Syndicate was actually taking orders from certain individuals, and not the other way around. These were not bought politicians, but rather the reverse. The order to have you followed came from Admiral Morgan, one of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. We believed Morgan to be a Shaper agent. If they knew that Anna Favreaux was working for us, giving you an incentive to track her down would, theoretically, give them the opportunity to follow you to her and locate this hidden base for them. Whether the Sirius Syndicate are aware of who they are ultimately working for is unknown, however in the past week we intercepted and assassinated around a dozen of their people in this system, all recent arrivals. Laurence Spinetti’s death by our hands at the Labyrinth eliminated the most direct threat to your safety, but it will have alerted his people all across this volume

‘Oh my god

’ Isaacs muttered.

‘Yes, it is the kind of knowledge that makes one hope for some sort of divine intervention. Interestingly it seems that a carrier also followed you here, and has attempted to track you. I believe you are familiar with the Churchill?’’

‘Yeah. I did some work for Admiral Chen, just before I got myself into this mess. Don’t tell me she’s a Shaper agent too.’

‘We don’t think so. The Churchill is currently attached to Special Operations Command and as such is subject to rigorous security. We are not sure what it is doing here in Hadar, or why it is tracking you. Perhaps they suspect you. In any case, the Churchill does not come under the command of Admiral Morgan.’

Isaacs was struck with a sense of foreboding.

‘Anna told me about a possible Shaper vessel in this system,’ he said

‘Yes. On the moon of Rhyolite,’ Chen replied.

‘The Admiral in charge of the operation, who does he answer to?’

‘Your suspicions are correct Captain. Yes. Admiral Cox however does indeed answer to Admiral Morgan, though he himself is not under the direct control of the Shapers, merely his own blind ambition and pig-headed ignorance.’

‘That thing has to be destroyed.’

‘We intend to. That is why I brought you here: To see if you wanted to join us. I felt that you deserved to know the whole story before you made up your mind, but I see that might not be difficult.’

‘I still have my doubts. Working for a theocracy isn’t exactly what I had in mind.’

‘That’s a little extreme. We are democratic. Captain, you and I have the same goal. I know about what the Shapers did to you. Anna told me enough. I know how much you hate them, even if until yesterday you didn’t know who to hate. Now you know who it truly was that captured you and killed your comrades. You know what one of those ships is capable of.’

‘Yeah. You got that right. Jesus, all those years I wanted answers

’

‘And now you want revenge?’

‘Damn right I do.’

‘Then you’ll join us?’

‘Fuck it. Yes, alright.’

‘Excellent. We will upgrade your ship with suitable weapon systems, free of charge of course. We are planning to commence our attack on Rhyolite tomorrow morning, Commonwealth standard, and of course we need all the pilots we can get. It should catch the garrison off guard and it will pre-empt the arrival of the Navy’s heavy lifters by several hours. It seems that they intend to take the ship off planet to their naval base in the system for secure study. The operation will doubtless be heavily guarded so we must act now before the defensive ships arrive. The briefing will at oh-four-hundred, Commonwealth standard.’

‘Just one thing.’

‘Yes?’

‘How do I know you aren’t a Shaper agent? How do I know that I can trust you?’

The Speaker was silent for a moment as if in contemplation.

‘Very good, Captain. Very good indeed,’ it said finally. ‘You have exactly the right mindset. Here.’ A manipulator arm reached inside a hitherto invisible compartment within the sarcophagus and produced one of the scanning devices that Isaacs had been subjected to in the docking bay the previous day. The Speaker tossed it to him. ‘Go ahead. Use it on me.’

‘Couldn’t you just block it? You said yourself, that suit of yours is entirely secure.’

‘Yes. I did,’ The Speaker said. It floated close in front of him. From the tone of the synthetic voice, it sounded even more impressed.

At that moment the sarcophagus cracked open. The panels that made up its shell began to part along invisible seams, slotting and folding back on themselves to reveal the creature within. It was vaguely humanoid. A pale, slender body was topped with a heavy, fluted, hairless skull and large intelligent eyes. Long, apelike arms and double-kneed legs were folded up around it, whilst both the creature’s bony hands and prehensile toes were laid across the instruments that surrounded and cocooned it. It was naked save for a few scraps of clothing and filigree skullcap of electronics that caressed that graceful cranium.

‘Go ahead,’ said The Speaker, the synthetic voice almost hiding the quiet alien murmur of its vocal cords. Isaacs scanned it, with a negative result.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’m honoured. I thought you said you never let others see you without your suits…’

‘Captain, if I thought for a moment that you were infected you would be dead already. I am prepared to make exceptions, occasionally. I believe that one gains more trust from showing one’s true face and from demonstrating that you trust others. My religion is important to me, but I am not inflexible. Others of my kind regard me as somewhat unorthodox due to my extended contact with aliens. They believe I am over-familiar. I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself.’

‘I will.’

‘Of course I could have rigged the device to give a false result

’

‘I trust you,’ Isaacs replied, almost bowled over by a display of humour from the creature as well as its unexpected gesture. He had never heard of a Nahabe ever showing itself to anyone but their own kind. He realised that until now his brain had simply regarded the ominous sarcophagi as their physical bodies. He had never imagined that inside those slabs of metal could be people so remarkably similar to his own.

‘Good,’ said The Speaker quietly. ‘Welcome to the Hidden Hand.’

Isaacs shut the door behind him and found Maria waiting patiently for him outside.

‘So how did it go?’ she asked.

‘He’s

not what I expected,’ said Isaacs hesitantly.

‘No. No he isn’t. You know half the time I’d swear he was human from the things he says. Makes a change from all those silent coffins huh?’

‘You can say that again.’

‘You know some of us reckon that’s why he was given this assignment. I think his own people are a bit embarrassed by him. You might say he’s something of a liberal, from their point of view.’

‘Hmm, in that case I’d hate to meet the hardliners. Anyway, he certainly likes to talk. I think I heard more from him in there than I have from the rest of his entire species put together.’

Maria chuckled. ‘Did he show himself to you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s good. It means that they regard you as one of them. I take you signed up.’

‘I did. What the hell, I figured it was payback time. Now I know what the hell is going on around here.’

She nodded. ‘That’s pretty much how the rest of us feel, welcome aboard. So now you know the truth

I take it you’re coming with us tomorrow?’

‘Yep. The Speaker said I’d get my ship kitted out before then.’

‘Makes sense. Alright, you wanna follow me down to the hangar deck? Perhaps you’d like to go shopping?’

‘Alright, let’s go.’

She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back to face him. ‘Just one thing,’ she said. ‘What kind of idiot freelancer buys a ship so expensive he can’t afford any weapons for it?’

‘Ah well, it looked nice in the dry dock and it has one of those new high performance jump engines, and it makes orbit much faster than other ships in its class. Besides I figured the speed would get me out of most tight spots. I was saving up for weapons but

’

‘Typical. Your wife leaves you, so what do you do? You compensate.’

‘Hey, it was a business purchase! It’s not like I had a mid-life crisis or anything.’

‘Well whatever it is, it ain’t much good in a fight. I don’t care how nice the bodywork is. So follow me, and let’s make sure that shiny flying dick of yours is actually some use.’

Chapter 22

‘Where are Cor and O’Reilly now?’ The face of Admiral Morgan glowered from the screen in Cox’s office.

‘We have them in custody, Cox replied. ‘They’ve been confined to their quarters in the accommodation block, under guard. Frankly, I was wondering what to do with them next.’

‘Charge them, of course.’

‘I’m not sure that we can. They might work for us, but they’re civilians. As such, we can’t subject them to military justice, you know that.’

‘They’ve caused untold damage to this project. Question them further. I want to know their motives behind this act of sabotage. Then have them shipped back to Earth on the next military transport out of that place. I wish to speak to them myself.’

‘Sir?’

‘I want to know if Haines instructed them to perform this act. We have had our suspicions about his motives for some time now. The old man is losing his grip, some say. He’s becoming paranoid and delusional. The pressure is finally getting to him, I hear. Others say he’s been turned by the Arkari to work for them, and who knows what their agendas are? If Cor and O’Reilly are suitably forthcoming, I might consider dropping the charges.’

‘Sir, if I may. Although O’Reilly’s act was one of vandalism, both she and Professor Cor expressed what I believed to be genuine concerns about the origins of this ship.’

‘Based on nothing more than what Haines and the Arkari have told them. I’ve said it before: the Arkari have repeatedly treated us in a high handed, dare I say, patronising fashion. They have withheld technology from us that could have spared us much bloodshed in our wars with the Empire. They think they have our best interests at heart, I say they’re afraid. They may be our allies, but they’ve never really trusted us.’

‘Yes sir. I’ve always seen this project as an opportunity for us all. If what you say about Haines is true…’

‘Based on classified intelligence, it is. Why do you think he has one of his attack dogs sitting above you right now?’

‘Admiral Chen? I wondered what she was doing here. She span me some story about looking for some ship, a freelance trader vessel.’

‘She did? Don’t believe a word of it, I bet it’s a smoke screen. Haines probably sent her here to keep an eye on you. She’s knows Cor and O’Reilly alright. So don’t give her anything. Keep her at arm’s length and report to me on her movements.’

‘Sir.’

‘There may be hard times ahead, Charlie. You really can’t trust anyone these days. This god damn corruption scandal has everyone shook up back home. You know how many high ranking military could go down with this?’

‘I had heard rumours. It seems like the corporations have bought everyone off, including the President.’

‘Of course they did. It’s business, right? The collapse of the Empire has created a goddamn free for all with officers on regular pay overseeing whole systems during the interim. What did you think would happen? Some people even think that’s why we went to war in the first place. Anyway, the end result is that everyone is covering their own backs. Haines is no different.’

‘They bought off Haines?’

‘No, I don’t think so. But all these heads rolling in the upper ranks will ensure that he can cling on to his position for a few more years, assuming he manages to dodge any accusations of responsibility for this mess. Seems like the old warhorse doesn’t know when to quit. He’s been peddling his paranoid theories to us here at the Joint Chiefs for a couple of years now, some load of crap about a hostile alien race that no-one has yet seen save for a few crazies who spent too long in deep space and a few vague indications from the Arkari. You can bet that’s why he sent Chen. He got wind of this and it set him off. Frankly it’s embarrassing, but I guess the old guy just needs an enemy, now that the K’Soth are no more. It’s sad to see him like this really.’

‘Well, I’ll bear that in mind sir,’ said Cox with a certain degree of satisfaction. ‘As to our progress: aside from our little problem we’re doing well. The heavy lifters have arrived in system and we should be ready to lift the alien vessel off the surface of the moon by tomorrow morning at oh-nine-hundred standard. We discovered that the lava layer under the craft is more brittle than that surrounding the sides of the vessel. Our excavation teams have made excellent progress during the last twenty four hours.’

‘That’s excellent news, Charlie. Keep me posted and remember what I said.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Morgan out.’

The lights in the briefing room were dimmed. Instead, most of the light came from the wall mounted screen facing the assembled pilots and crew of the Hidden Hand. The screen was currently displaying a Mercator projection of the surface of Rhyolite. The vast lava flows, blackened volcanic cones and fields of sulphuric outpourings formed a sweeping, vivid pattern across the screen. The sparse settlements across the surface were labelled, as well as key geological features. The Navy dig site was highlighted by a livid, red bull’s-eye. To one side of the screen stood Anna, a control wand in her hand as she talked. Isaacs sat near the back in the shadows behind the rows of assembled crews. Anita sat at his side in the aisle, having snuck in late at the last second.

‘As you all know, we’ve been monitoring Navy activity on Rhyolite’s surface for some time now,’ said Anna, using the hand held device to manipulate the image and zoom in on the dig site. The circular shape of the dome that concealed the alien vessel was clearly visible, as were the concentric rings of air defence positions situated around it. ‘These pictures are the most recent that we have, and were taken yesterday around sixteen hundred hours by one of our scouts. As you can see, the dome pretty much covers everything. However, we also managed to get a few sensor readings through the dome, which correlate with the pictures we managed to get from within the site thanks to our spies there.’ The picture changed again, as Anna overlaid the outline of modules and buildings within the boundary of the dome, as well as the strange spiked outline of the alien vessel. Labels appeared denoting the various features.

‘We know from the Nahabe and from the accounts of numerous others that this is a Shaper vessel. It is dormant at the moment, but it is nevertheless fully functional and conscious. The Navy has brought Atlas class heavy lifters in system and we believe that they intend to remove the vessel from the surface and take it out of our reach for study. Our time to strike is now, people, and we haven’t a moment to lose. We cannot allow that thing to survive. The Speaker has chosen me to head up this operation, unless anyone else has any other preference?’

There were a few shaken heads and grunts of agreement.

‘No. We’re all with you on this Anna,’ said Maria. ‘The amount of work you put in coordinating the surveillance, you know that moon like the back of your hand. So what’s your plan?’

‘Our mission has two objectives. Firstly, we need to destroy that ship. However The Speaker has also requested that we rescue two archaeologists from the base before we do so.’

‘Shit,’ said Maria. ‘I knew it wasn’t going to be simple. What’s so special about these two guys?’

‘One’s a human woman, the other an Arkari male. They’re civilians, but the Navy asked for their help. The Speaker says that they know an awful lot about the Shapers, possibly more than any of us here. Moreover, they could be the key to discovering more about our enemy. The only problem is that it seems that there was some sort of incident at the dig site, and the two of them are being held under guard in the accommodation block. We have people on the inside who can get them out of the base, but someone has to fly down there and pick them up before we destroy it. So here’s how it’s going to work.’

She worked the screen again, which panned out to show a schematic of the moon and its various orbiting habitats and the shipping-lanes to and from them. A blinking arrow head appeared above the dig site on the moon below.

‘Okay, Group One led by Maria jumps in here, five hundred clicks above the site at eight-hundred hours standard and uses kinetics against ground based defences. With luck you’ll take out a few before they get the site’s shield up, however your main purpose is to attract attention and act as a decoy for the time being. In the meantime, I’ll take the Jilted Lover and jump in close to the moon, over the horizon from the dig site, here.’ She indicated as a further arrow head appeared on the screen, dangerously close to the point where Rhyolite’s gravity well would pose a threat to the vessel’s jump engines. ‘I’ll come in on a shallow course and approach the dig site at low level so that their radar doesn’t pick us up. We rendezvous with our people on the ground, pick up the archaeologists and make a break for it. When we’re clear, Group Two jumps in and destroys the site from orbit with antimatter warheads. Captain Vakkulak, have you completed the modifications to your ship?’

A rather worn looking Vreeth with numerous scars on his flotation sacs rose up from a group of others of his kind. The clicking sounds from his mouthparts were translated by the device he wore at the base of his head section.

‘The Fear of Solitude and her sister ships are ready to go, Captain Favreaux. We did experience some minor compatibility problems between the torpedo magazine and the Mating Call, but we’ve worked around the problem. If I might ask, what sort of window are we allowing for this operation?’

‘Response time from Centrepoint will be the usual fifteen minutes, however we’ve also detected a Saturn class carrier, the Winston S. Churchill currently in parking orbit at Barstow.’ There were a few curses around the room. ‘Alright, alright, I understand. We’ve factored this into our plans. We’re not sure what the Churchill is doing here right now. She’s not regular Navy, so she might not be a part of Admiral Cox’s fleet, however she will most likely come to assistance of the dig site should we attack it. This is why we are hitting it when Barstow is on the other side of the moon. Group One is to jam all transmissions from the dig site. In any case, we have theorised that the Churchill may be here to investigate what is going on in this system for Special Ops. It is remotely possible that she may not stand in our way if we destroy the alien ship. They are also looking for my husband Cal. Why, we don’t know, but we’ve changed the IFF transponder on his ship for now.’

‘Friendly or no, they’ll go ape-shit once they detect those AM warheads,’ said someone near the back.

‘We’ll have enough time. The Churchill’s been launching sporadic patrols to sweep the system, but the ship itself is parked well within the traffic control zone of Barstow, it’ll take them a good ten minutes to respond. A ship that size will have to be careful about jumping around a planet for fear of grazing the gravity well’s threshold. The size of their hyperspace envelope will prevent them from cutting it as fine as we do in our smaller ships. Now, targeting data and navigational waypoints have all been downloaded into your ships, any questions?’

‘Yeah,’ said Isaacs. ‘How about I sneak down to the planet instead of you?’

‘Cal

’

‘Come on, my ship’s faster than yours and it’s actually truly atmosphere capable. I can manoeuvre much better in atmosphere using the Profit Margin’s lifting body airframe that you can on AG alone. Plus, I can make it back into space much faster with those uprated engines of mine.’

‘I have the canyons in that area tattooed into my brain.’

‘So? Come with me and show me the way. Come on. You know it makes sense.’

She gave him an exasperated look.

‘Oh, and I’ll need a gunner as well now that my ship’s been fitted out.’

‘Well I already volunteered myself for that,’ said Anita at his side.

‘You did, huh? I thought you didn’t like this kind of thing.’ Isaacs replied sceptically.

‘Well, I don’t really. But I figured that I ought to be able to do my bit. Besides, you’ll be avoiding combat won’t you? I’ll just be along for the ride.’

‘That’s the plan

’ said Isaacs and winced.

‘So, it’ll do me good. You said yourself I had to get used to this, and I am a qualified gunner you know. I made sure I was useful aboard ship.’

‘You can say that again,’ someone in the assembly commented. There were a few guffaws and sniggers. Word got around pretty quickly in such a small community. Anita, it seemed, had something of a reputation. Anna was not amused, judging by her expression

‘Well,’ said Isaacs. ‘I think I’m probably going to regret this, but alright. Just don’t shoot anybody unless I tell you to, okay? So Anna, what do you say?’ He looked at his wife whose mouth had narrowed to a thin dark line.

‘Come with me one moment Cal,’ she said and walked outside into the corridor. When he followed her and shut the door behind him she rounded on him.

‘Cal, this isn’t some fucking joyride!’

‘Yes I know, which is why I’m volunteering to fly the mission. You think you can just waltz into the airspace of a heavy defended military installation? I’m the best pilot with the best ship here.’

‘Maybe

but how dare you just come in here and

and undermine me! I’ve spent weeks planning this! And as for that little tart…’

‘Alright look, I’m sorry. Maybe I was out of line back there. But I’m a damn good pilot and my ship is the best one you have out there in the hangar and you know that. If we combine my flying with your knowledge of the moon’s surface and the navigational information that you guys have been using to cut it so fine out there we can do this. But we have to do this fast and clean or we’re completely fucked. If we hang around too long and the Churchill shows up I don’t think the fact that myself and her commanding officer have met before is going to matter if she sees your ships carrying antimatter. Admiral Chen made something of a name for herself hunting down pirates before she became a war hero. The sooner we get clear, the sooner your Vreeth buddies can wipe that thing off the face of the moon and we can all go home.’

Anna nodded. ‘True. Alright, we’ll go with your plan, and by the way, Anita is a damn good gunner, at least on the sims. She’ll do fine.’

Isaacs noted something about Anna’s expression. ‘It’s definitely over between me and her, you know,’ he said.

‘Good. You know you’re almost old enough to be her father.’

‘Hey! I’m not that old!’

‘Hmm. Besides, when you aren’t being infuriating and presuming we survive this I’d like to think you and I had some sort of second chance.

‘Yeah, I know. So do I, actually.’

‘Come on, let’s get back in there and finish the briefing.’

Rekkid scowled at the armed guard who peered in through the door that he had roughly thrown open. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, the man closed the door again and locked it, then resumed his position outside in the corridor.

Rekkid and Katherine had been confined together in Rekkid’s quarters ever since the incident inside the alien ship. They had been questioned again and again by Cox and his men and had given the same answers each time: That the ship was dangerous and that its captain had asked them to kill him. It didn’t seem to satisfy their captors who had then started asking all sorts of questions about Admiral Haines and making veiled threats to the effect that they would be treated as terrorists. At this point the two of them had declined to offer any further information and had asked for legal representation, though they both severely doubted whether it would ever arrive. Due legal process had a way of evaporating where the military and alleged acts of sabotage were concerned.

Rekkid had decided to take the opportunity to show Katherine what he had found amidst the ancient Progenitor files. He strongly suspected that his laptop would eventually be taken from him as part of the investigation into their actions. If that happened, he fully intended to wipe the machine’s contents, if at all possible. He wanted to show Katherine what he had found whilst he still could.

Rekkid unfolded the device and placed it on his knees then he executed the ancient Progenitor program. The glittering image of the galaxy filled the screen, slowly rotating before them. A series of small icons sat at the edges of the screen, small and rounded like little jewels. Katherine gave a short intake of breath.

‘It’s beautiful Rekkid,’ she said. ‘This is absolutely remarkable.’

‘It certainly is,’ he replied. ‘This is a perfectly detailed map of the galaxy, five billion years in the past. See? Our systems don’t even exist yet.’ To illustrate the point he used the icons to zoom in on the western spiral arm until a vast and livid nebula filled the screen. ‘This is the volume around the Solar System. All this will come to form it in time, along with Alpha Centauri, Tau Ceti, Epsilon Eridani and all the rest.’ A series of dark swirling disks were visible within the nebula, one of which would eventually form the cradle for the Human race. Rekkid zoomed out again until the whole galaxy was visible. He selected another icon and each star became colour coded. The overwhelming majority of them turned green, with a few minor pockets of other colours. Labels appeared too in Progenitor linear script, the more common form used in their texts, rather than the more complex tri-linear forms employed by their machines. At this level of magnification the labels appeared to denote systems of particular note. Rekkid pointed to a slightly larger label halfway down the eastern arm of the galaxy.

‘This is the location of the Progenitor home-world. I translated the name and it literally means ‘Home’ which of course is what our home-world Keros is called. It’s a funny thing isn’t it? Everyone seems to call their own planet home, earth or something with religious connotations. Interestingly, the star it orbits has a name which translates into English as “The Sun”.’

‘I guess we all start out in the same situation. All we know of the universe at first is the earth beneath our feet and the heat from the sun in the sky. All the other names of things in the sky follow afterwards when we grow curious about our surroundings and try to see and reach further.’

‘Quite so. However few reached as far as the Progenitors. Have a look at this.’

He zoomed in on their home-world. Instead of a neat diagram of planets orbiting a central star, the centre of the system was entirely taken up with a vast Dyson sphere. The outer gas giants and icy dwarf planets orbited outside it. Rekkid zoomed in still further until the three inner, rocky planets could be seen orbiting in a stately fashion within the vast sphere which entirely enclosed them, save for a hole at each of its poles, presumable to allow the ingress and egress of ships. Two of the planets were lush worlds, the Progenitor home-world and one further out, apparently terraformed judging from the regular coastlines, with another smaller planet orbiting close to the sun and largely uninhabited. Rekkid zoomed in on Home, until it filled the screen. Its deep blue oceans and green-brown continents were swirled with banks of cloud whilst two ice caps glittered white at the poles. It shone like a radiant jewel in the sunlight against the backdrop of the Dyson sphere’s interior surface. That vast curving plane was patterned with titanic surface features - continents, seas, rivers and mountain ranges that dwarfed the surface area of any planet. The sheer scale of the thing was staggering, even to Katherine and Rekkid who had spent several months working on a similar, smaller structure. There was more habitable surface in this one sphere than in the whole of the Commonwealth’s inhabited worlds put together. Its diameter was akin to the orbit of Jupiter around the Sun, but the Progenitors had succeeded in rendering its surface warm enough to support life, and house trillions of their own citizens. It had a name: Sanctuary.

‘That,’ said Katherine, ‘is absolutely unbelievable. It’s hard to comprehend that this actually existed. If I hadn’t seen one of their smaller spheres with my own eyes I doubt I’d believe this at all.’

‘Indeed, and here it is too,’ said Rekkid and manipulated the image once more. The view sped across the plane of the galaxy and came to a stop inside another Dyson sphere.

‘There were a great number of these, right across the galaxy. This one was called Bivian. I believe it’s the one that you and I are familiar with.’ said Rekkid. ‘The name means something along the lines of ‘Safe Harbour’. It seems to have been quite beautiful in its day. Such a pity.’

‘I suppose most of them have been destroyed now,’ said Katherine. ‘What with war, the death of their parent stars and whatnot. It’s a wonder Bivian survived at all. I wonder if any survived intact?’

‘Who knows?’ Rekkid replied. ‘I suppose it’s just about possible. Maybe one or two survive around slower burning stars. Their builders are all long dead and gone though.’

Katherine gazed at the blue-green seas, the rolling, green continents swathed in cloud and criss-crossed with the fine, regular tracery of some ancient transport network and remembered the airless, ice-shrouded ruin that the sphere had become.

‘There were so many of them weren’t there?’ she said. ‘I wonder how many escaped in the end?’

‘Not very many,’ said Rekkid. ‘Watch this.’

He panned the view out, clicked another icon, and a livid red dot appeared on the far northern edge of the galaxy. Some alien figures were displayed at the bottom left of the screen, apparently denoting the passage of time. Rekkid selected the dot. As he did so, a document opened on the screen, overlaying the galactic map.

‘This document,’ he said. ‘Is one of the ones I discreetly copied. I know, because I checked where the program had retrieved it from. I hadn’t had time to run it through the translation program yet, but it doesn’t matter to this program: it can read them in their native file formats. However I still had to translate the text by sight. It made for quite interesting reading.’

‘What does it say?’

‘It’s a report of an accident investigation. A disease control laboratory experienced a disastrous breach of viral security and a test specimen was released into the environmental systems where it proceeded to kill the entire staff. It also escaped into the atmosphere and killed the entire planet’s population in a very short space of time. By the time the Progenitors were able to respond it had escaped off world. Autopsies of those killed at the lab were undertaken, and they found this:’

Rekkid scrolled down to reveal a gruesome image, a vile, grub-like, insectile thing covered in gore. Katherine had seen its like before, inside the head of a priest back on Maranos.

‘The Shapers,’ she said, as Rekkid rotated the three dimensional image to show the disgusting creature from all angles.

‘Got it in one,’ he said. ‘Apparently a dozen of them were discovered on the planet, both in the lab and in the spaceports, as well as in surrounding systems among the dead and at the centre of each outbreak. Now watch:’

He closed the document and clicked on the icons again, a tide of red began to sweep outwards from that point, engulfing all in its path across the galaxy. The home-world of the Progenitors did not escape.

‘There are a very large number of links pointing to other files, but most of them are missing,’ said Rekkid. ‘I presume that the rest lies in the remainder of the collection and that this map is the key to making sense of it, a sort of interactive database and time lapse display if you will.’

The tide of disease had been slowed as the Progenitors struggled to bring it under control, but it still crept inexorably onwards. By now, other icons were appearing on the map. Systems began changing from the green of the Progenitor empire to a raft of other hues, as the chaos caused by the disease led to rebellion and war. It all seemed to be very well coordinated.

‘We need to bring this to the attention of Mentith and Haines,’ said Rekkid. ‘I looked at some of these battles, and this program even contains details of the tactics and weaponry that were used against the Progenitors. There’s also details of Progenitor technology that I can’t make head nor tail of, but presumably somebody with the right knowledge can. Even if they try to take this off me, there’s still a copy in those data wafers, so it doesn’t matter if I delete it. But if this falls into the wrong hands

’

Katherine nodded in agreement.

‘Yeah, I know,’ she said. ‘But first we need to get off this rock.’

The rushing gases screamed outside the cockpit as Isaacs took the Profit Margin down through the thick, turbulent atmosphere of Rhyolite. The ship bucked and jolted in pockets of gas and sharp updrafts as her captain maintained a death grip on the controls, his expression locked in concentration on the view ahead and the cockpit HUD. Beside him, Anna sat tensely in the co-pilots chair, her hands gripping the armrests until her knuckles turned white, her mouth compressed to thin, grim line. The engines howled.

‘You sure about this?’ she asked with trepidation. ‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to let the computer handle the descent?’

‘Easier? Yeah. But it would also have made us easier to see. The computer’s too fucking predictable and we need to cut it much finer. Besides, we’re almost down.’

As if to illustrate his point, the Profit Margin plunged out of the base of the cloud deck, revealing the hellish landscape of the moon’s surface before them. A system of steep sided hills rose out the land in front of them, their dark valleys filled with rising, yellow mists.

‘See?’ said Isaacs as he aimed the ship towards them. ‘Right on the money. Let’s just get a little lower.’

‘Head to the right of that peak with the two cinder cones,’ said Anna, pointing as the comm. crackled into life.

‘This is Able One,’ said the distorted voice of Maria over the atmospheric interference. ‘We are in position above the base and jamming it. Firing on defences now.’

‘Able One this is Charlie. We’re through the cloud deck and on course for the objective. The ride was a little rough but we’re okay. Any response from the Navy?’

‘Not yet. Will keep you posted. Able One out.’

As the range of hills grew to fill the view from the cockpit, Isaacs gripped the controls and took the Profit Margin ever lower towards the rushing terrain below.

Katherine and Rekkid could hear a siren warbling in the corridor outside. The series of loud bangs that had shaken the room had startled the pair of them. These had been followed by a series of more distant thumps and now amidst a rolling volley of closer, louder explosions the base had finally woken up to whatever was going on and someone had sounded the alarm. They heard running feet in the corridors outside and shouted commands.

The lights went out suddenly and then came back on as a backup power source kicked in. Katherine looked frantically at Rekkid.

‘What the hell do you think is going on!?’ she said nervously. ‘It sounds like we’re being attacked.’

‘It would seem so,’ said the Arkari in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘The last time we heard sounds like this was back on Maranos, when the K’Soth flattened the city. Do you remember?’

‘How could I forget,’ she replied, wondering how the Arkari could be so calm and shuddered at the memory. ‘But who could be attacking the Navy here? Who even knows about this place?’

‘That,’ said Rekkid, ‘is a very good question indeed.’

A series of rapid, staccato reports sounded from all around them as rail-gun and particle beam batteries began firing back into space, the sonic booms of the hyper-velocity projectiles accompanying the sudden crack of the beam weapons as they each ionised a column of Rhyolite’s sulphurous atmosphere each time they fired.

Maria saw the return fire on her cockpit sensors and ordered Able squadron to disperse. This far up from the surface of the moon, gravity, the inverse square law and the scattering effect of the moon’s atmosphere were working heavily in her favour. She watched as a particle beam washed harmlessly off one of her wingmen’s shields with no more effect than to make the shell of energy glow slightly. She knew why the crews on the ground were still firing at them though: the energy signatures of the weapons would help to draw attention from any passing friendly ships and the beams themselves were essentially ‘painting’ her ships for all to see.

The rail-gun rounds were a different matter however. Even though their velocity had been reduced to a few hundred kilometres an hour by the drag of the moon’s gravity they were still capable of damaging the hulls of the corvettes under her command. She tracked a stream of the near invisible slugs as they passed between the ships and drew satisfaction from the sight of another volley of her own kinetic missiles slamming home, silencing another of the gun positions.

Chen was busy in her office when the call came through from Singh on the bridge. She put down the sheaf of engineering reports she had been perusing and activated her console. The Lieutenant Commander’s voice was accompanied by a real time shot of Rhyolite taken from one of the Churchill’s port side cameras. The winking lights from ships coming and going from Barstow could be seen in the foreground

‘Admiral,’ said Singh. ‘I believe I’ve located the site that we were looking for.’

‘Good work Mr Singh,’ replied Chen. ‘Show me what you’ve got.’

‘Okay. Over the past few hours I’ve monitored a number of Navy and local law enforcement registered vessels coming and going from the surface of the moon. When I tracked them to the surface, or extrapolated back the flight paths of those leaving the planet I discovered that the majority of them were coming or going from a single location.’ To illustrate the point he overlaid a series of trajectory paths onto the image, each appended with a time, ship designation and type. The vast majority radiated from a single point on the surface of the moon as it had rotated over the past few hours. The landing site was now out of view around the limb of the moon.

‘Our alien ship?’

‘No, it’s a small mining base near the moon’s equator belonging to the Acheson-Cheung Mining Conglomerate. Like most of the mining in this system it’s chiefly concerned with bulk minerals, precious metals and exotics. This puzzled me for a while, although I did wonder whether the ship might lie underground. In the end I used the Churchill’s telescopes to scrutinise the site and I noticed a series of heavy industrial crawlers leaving the mining base and heading eastwards across the volcanic deserts. This piqued my interest so I followed them using infrared and low level radar to pierce the clouds. Then I found this:’

The real time image of the planet was replaced with a fuzzy view of a domed base, shot at an oblique angle from the Churchill through a gap in the yellowish clouds. A few air and space defence positions could be seen in the foreground against the orange-brown and yellow rocks.

‘It isn’t a registered settlement, and I’m pretty sure I saw marines in combat environmental suits patrolling the perimeter. There was no sign of an alien ship, but my guess is that it’s under that protective dome.’

‘That has to be it. We have to inform Admiral Haines.’

‘Yes Admiral. I’ve saved all the data I collected. Perhaps if I process it some more I can reveal a bit more about the site.’

‘That’s excellent work, Commander Singh. We’ll have to deliver this personally; we can’t risk a hypercom transmission.’

‘Thank you

. wait a second,’ Singh paused. ‘Ensign Andrews has just informed me that one of our patrols has reported in. Wing Epsilon have just seen a number of ships jump into position above the site.’

‘Navy?’

‘No

the wing leader reports a number of corvette class vessels of varying types. He reports that judging by their markings that they belong to these Hidden Hand pirates that we’ve been hearing about. They’re assuming an attack posture and there’s a lot of jamming coming from those ships.’ Singh paused again as if listening to another. ‘Admiral, we have confirmation that the pirate vessels are firing kinetic weapons at the site,’ he reported

‘Jesus, what the hell is going on down there? Alright Commander, I’m on my way to the bridge. Inform Commander Haldane that I’m ordering him to take the ship out of port and jump to intercept as soon as possible. I don’t care if Cox is running a shadowy operation down there; those are still our people on the surface. Chen out.’

The door was roughly shoved open by a combat suited figure bearing the label ‘Dobbs’ on its chest. It clutched two other protective garments in its gauntleted fist. The bulbous helmets of the light emergency models hung slackly above their flimsier bodies. In the corridor outside, the figure of the marine guard lay at an angle against the wall. A stream of drool and vomit hung from the man’s mouth. Katherine and Rekkid stared at the apparition.

The suited figure raised his visor.

‘Farouk!’ said Katherine, recognising the man inside the purloined suit. ‘What are you doing here? What the hell’s going on?’

‘You’re being rescued, that’s what,’ Farouk replied gruffly. ‘Now hurry: put on these environment suits. We need to get out of here.’ He held out the suits towards them.

‘Rescued?’ said Rekkid. ‘Is that what all this is about?’

As if to illustrate his point, a thunderous explosion shook the room.

‘Yes,’ Farouk replied. ‘Assuming my friends don’t manage to kill us in their enthusiasm. Now come on, my brother Ibrahim is waiting for us outside the base. He has our crawler with its engine running. Hopefully we can slip away in the commotion, yes?’

‘What about that poor sod out there, did you kill him?’ said Rekkid in an accusatorial tone.

‘No, I just stunned him for a while,’ said Farouk and produced a stubby riot control pistol from about his person. ‘He’ll be alright in about ten minutes or so, assuming this place is still standing. My friends intend to destroy the ship you came to see. Rescuing you is a secondary objective, but a vital one nonetheless. You have to come now.’

‘Alright,’ said Katherine and grabbed the suits from his hands. Rekkid inspected his sceptically, then they both started to clamber into the slick garments. The form fitting material would provide only the barest protection from Rhyolite’s toxic atmosphere. Any rip in the fragile fabric would be fatal.

‘These friends of yours

’ said Rekkid as he wormed his way into the suit, which clung unevenly to his alien frame. ‘I don’t suppose you’d care to tell us who they are?’

‘The Hidden Hand.’

‘I see

the pirates in this system we’ve heard so much about. What interest are a couple of academics to a bunch of criminals? Not that we don’t appreciate the gesture of course,’ he added hastily.

‘We are not exactly pirates and besides, do you really trust the Navy now?’ said Farouk pointedly.

‘You have a point there,’ Rekkid replied and fitted the suit’s breathing mask over his face, neatly clipping the apparatus to the hood of the garment to form an airtight seal. Katherine had done likewise.

‘Alright,’ said her muffled voice. ‘Let’s go.’

Outside, the sound of the kinetic rounds falling was much louder. Men and vehicles rushed hither and thither as the troops stationed at the base hurried to their positions. In the confusion, three suited, anonymous figures were able to slip out of the accommodation block unhindered and scurried across the interior of the covered compound. Two of the figures wore more flimsy suits, and hurried along with bags dangling from their gloved hands.

Farouk led them towards the main entrance at an oblique angle and threaded his way between neat stacks of supply crates, placed in regular rows at the side of the main thoroughfare between the entrance and the point where the road disappeared over the edge of the giant pit containing the ship. Katherine caught a glimpse of the vessel’s dark form against the flashes of the rounds landing outside. It was still watching her, she could feel it. The death of Captain Blake had undoubtedly been a blow to the ship, but it was still alive nonetheless. Blake had merely been a temporary component of the vessel, his death had wounded it, but it would recover from the loss. Katherine could feel its tendrils at the edge of her thoughts.

Farouk brought them to a halt behind a four metre high stack of crates filled with freeze dried rations.

‘Can you feel it?’ said Katherine over the local comm. system that the suits possessed. ‘Can you feel the ship watching us?’

Farouk nodded then put his finger to the mouthpiece of his suit. Katherine felt foolish: doubtless the suits’ comm. systems would be audible to anyone else within range. He signalled for them to stay put, then walked nonchalantly around the nearest crate stack and disappeared. Katherine and Rekkid stood and looked at each other uneasily for a few moments before he returned and indicated for them to follow him.

Leaving the cover of the crates they found themselves walking towards the heavy doors of the entrance to the compound. A sole marine private in full combat armour stood guard, his weapon held ready. As Farouk approached with the two archaeologists in tow the man saluted what he took to be Sergeant Dobbs and activated the gate controls. The doors began to slide apart and they stepped through into the chaos outside. The doors slid quickly shut behind them as the two guards outside the gate ignored them and watched the pyrotechnics. They were only interested in people coming into the base.

Almost instantly the choking winds of the thick atmosphere threatened to sweep them off their feet. The three figures leant into the gale as Farouk led them along the road. Once they were out of sight of the gate guards he took them off the road and into the cover of a field of sulphur boulders. The noise was deafening now. The howling of the wind was nothing compared to the thunderous sound of the kinetic rounds landing all around and the constant firing of the base defences. Katherine looked at the nearest patch of ground and saw the yellow dust that adorned every surface jump and shake with every thunderclap of noise. More of the grit swirled in the gale and rattled against the surface of their suits. Farouk pressed them onwards into a small ravine that wound its way between two defence positions now left as smoking, molten craters by the pirate attack. Here the yellow dust lay thick underfoot like snow, whilst the jagged black lava beneath threatened to trip the three of them with every step. A round landed nearby, the impact showering them with grit that poured from the lip of the rocks above. Farouk gestured them onwards. After a few more minutes, as they climbed back up out of the ravine onto the slopes of a low hill, Farouk broke the silence.

‘We can talk now. We’re out of immediate range of the local net. My friends took out the main base transmitter whilst we were down in that ravine, so only the suit to suit systems work now.’

‘What now?’ said Rekkid. ‘Where’s your brother?’

‘Over this hill. Not far. I told him to wait well outside the target area in case one of our people shot at him by mistake.’

‘How the hell did you get us out of the gate?’ said Katherine.

‘Luck,’ Farouk replied. ‘I stole a Sergeant’s suit and as luck would have it, the guard at the gate was green as hell. He probably only came in a few days ago. In any case, he didn’t question my identity when I told him I was taking two civilians outside to make some emergency repairs.’

‘Your one resourceful man, Farouk,’ said Rekkid. ‘That was some quick thinking. You avoided killing him and attracting too much attention to us.’

‘Yes well, I do not like the idea of having to kill anyone

on the other hand, it may not make much difference by the end of this. We need to get moving, come on, this way.’ He started up the hill at a lively pace.

‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ said Katherine, looking back at the now distant dig site base, its ring of defences now largely reduced to molten slag. Another series of explosions marked the demise of another gun position, the cracking noise of the impacts arriving a split second later and echoing off the distant hills.

‘Yes, I wonder what his friends have in store for Admiral Cox and his precious dig site?’ mused Rekkid. ‘I’m not sure I’d like to stick around to find out, come on.’

Cox was already airborne. The dig site possessed a Condor class landing craft to act as an escape shuttle in case of emergencies and this definitely qualified as such. He, a couple of aides, Reynaud and a squad of fully armed marines were ensconced into the rear compartment of the sleekly angular craft as it sped away from the base at low level and then began to slowly circle outside the perimeter of the combat zone. Reynaud looked decidedly green from the bumpy ride through the turbulent atmosphere and the continuous rising and falling of the ship as its pilot hugged the ground as far as possible to disguise their stealthy signature against the background clutter of the terrain features and atmospheric conditions. No-one would be able to see the Condor unless they were deliberately searching the exact area around it, or if they got extremely lucky. Nevertheless, it made for a poor makeshift command post. The craft’s facilities were minimal, the usual c & c suite used by field commanders for coordinating assaults having been stripped out to accommodate more seats, and it was impossible to put out a distress signal and a request for backup whilst Rhyolite itself lay between them and both Barstow and Centre Point Harbour. The co-pilot had tried to access the hypercom node back at the dig site, but discovered that it had been destroyed by the attack. Their only option appeared to be to sit tight and hope that someone would pick up their broadcasts and send in the cavalry. The vessel was armed with a variety of weapons, but none would be effective against the attacking vessels from this range and the ship itself wasn’t suited to a dog fight, not to mention the fact that they would be hopelessly outnumbered.

Cox strained to listen as he clamped the earpiece of the shuttle’s communication suite to his head. The transmission back to the dig site was of very poor quality. The only transmitters still in operation were relatively short ranged and intended only for local communications and lacked the power to penetrate the volatile atmosphere. Cox struggled to hear the agitated voice of a young Lieutenant using an emergency set over the sounds of the shuttle in flight.

‘Say again Lieutenant. What is the status of our defences?’

‘Only two batteries remaining sir, one kinetic

’ the transmission was interrupted for a second by static ‘

particle beam cannons. It’s only a matter of time before

’ more static, ‘

base directly.’

‘Any sign of help arriving?’

‘Sorry sir, I’m having trouble reading you,’ came the crackly response. Cox frustratedly repeated his question. ‘Yes sir, we’re being pinged by a wing of recon fighters. Signal IFF verifies them as being from the Churchill. We have no voice comms to them but my guess is that help is on the way.’ The man’s voice distorted oddly from signal attenuation. One of the marines came forwards and adjusted the comms gear, boosting the signal quality.

‘Good. That’s good. You hang in there soldier, the Churchill’s a fine ship. They’ll get us out of this mess.’

‘Yessir. Sir, there is one other thing: base security have just informed me that the prisoners being held under guard in the accommodation block have escaped. It seems that the marine guarding them was incapacitated somehow. Looks like a stun gun of some kind.’

‘Shit. Why was the guard reduced?’

‘I don’t know sir. I guess someone decided that we needed all hands for our defence.’

‘Are they inside or outside the base?’

‘Unknown. But two emergency suits were discovered stolen from the supply locker of the security post in the accommodation block. One of the guards did report two civilians leaving the base in the custody of a marine sergeant that he didn’t recognise, but he was as green as they come.’

‘There’s only one way out of the base and they won’t get far in this place with just emergency suits. Someone must have arranged to meet them. My guess is that this was an inside job. How long have they been gone?’

‘The man guarding the room thinks that he was attacked shortly after the raid started, sir. They can’t have got far on foot.’

‘No, that’s true. Alright, we’ll circle and see if we can spot any vehicles in this mess. I want our people out of the line of fire until help arrives. Get them dispersed and undercover until help arrives. Keep me informed Lieutenant. Cox out.’ He leant forward over the shoulders of the pilot and co-pilot. ‘Gentlemen, if this flying door-stop has any ground sweeping sensors at all I want them turned on. See if you can find any vehicles out here as we circle around, especially ones heading away from the dig site. Cor and O’Reilly have escaped somehow, and I intend to find them.’

From the rear of the craft came the sound of Reynaud retching.

The battered yellow crawler crouched low in the shallow depression before them, its dusty features almost blending in with the surrounding rocks. Farouk, Rekkid and Katherine staggered gratefully towards it as a figure inside the glassed in cab waved at them. Farouk’s brother, Ibrahim had waited for them as promised.

As they approached the crawler he lowered the loading ramp at the rear vehicle to allow them easier access in their ungainly outfits. Katherine’s foot touched the lip of the ramp just as Ibrahim started the engine on the massive vehicle; she felt the vibrations through the corrugated metal as she hurried inside, Rekkid close behind her. Farouk lingered for a moment as if scanning the horizon, then followed them into the vehicle, his progress aided by the ramp that started to rise as he walked up it.

With the door closed, the rear cargo bay sealed and pressurised and the hatches to the rest of the vehicle unclamped, then the trio felt the vehicle begin to move over the bumpy ground.

Rekkid wrenched off his helmet with a sigh of relief.

‘Thank fuck that’s over with,’ he gasped. ‘I thought I was going to cook inside that thing.’

‘You want to try adding claustrophobia as well,’ Katherine commented, her face slicked with sweat that stuck strands of her red hair to her forehead. ‘I’ve had walks that were more fun. Still, Farouk, I don’t think we can thank you enough.’

‘We’re not out of this yet,’ said the bear-like man as he struggled out of his suit. ‘We must rendezvous with our pick up, then we must get off this moon, then we must reach safety, then you can thank me.’ He stepped out of the greaves of the suit and stood before them in work overalls that were drenched in sweat, the suit he had been wearing having been designed not to be worn with full clothing. ‘Excuse me, I must go to the cab and give my brother the transponder frequency.’ He sniffed at one damp armpit and grimaced. ‘And then I must burn these clothes, I think.’

The crawler sped onwards, its over sized tyres making light work of the rough terrain as it steadily widened the distance between itself and the dig site. Outside, the yellow tinged winds howled.

The Profit Margin was also closing in on the rendezvous point. Isaacs was slowing the ship from its almost suicidal speed as she thundered across the face of Rhyolite mere tens of metres from the ground. As the ship braked to a less insane speed he saw Anna visibly relax in the co-pilot’s chair.

Not far now, thought Isaacs as the figures next to the waypoint on his HUD counted down. The rendezvous point was still a few kilometres over the horizon, placing the green marker below the rippled line of low hills that marked that line.

‘Anna,’ he said. ‘You got our comm. system tuned into that transponder frequency?’

‘Of course,’ she said through gritted teeth as a rocky outcropping swept by in a heartbeat. ‘You think I’ve just been sitting on my arse here?’

‘No, sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Anita!’ he called into the ship’s internal comm. ‘You get those cannons fired up. We have to consider the possibility of a less than friendly reception.’

‘You think?’ said Anita. ‘Farouk’s pretty good. I reckon he got those two out of there without anyone noticing a thing.’

‘Yeah well

just in case, you know?’

‘Alright Cal, I’m on it,’ said Anita in reply.

‘She’s never fired a weapon in anger you know,’ said Anna. ‘She might hesitate if we do encounter hostiles.’

‘Yeah well, she’s gotta get used to this sometime. Thirty seconds to landing, everyone!’

In response to Isaacs’ braking manoeuvre, the Profit Margin’s reverse thrusters howled in protest.

‘Sir we have detected a large vehicle on the ground about two clicks south west of the dig site,’ the co-pilot of the shuttle reported to Cox. ‘Looks like one of the crawlers we’ve been using to haul supplies. It’s heading at speed away from the dig site. Jesus, the driver must be a mad man, either that, or he knows the terrain around here like the back of his hand.’

‘Close in on them and order them to halt. Fire on them if you have to disable the vehicle.’

‘Yessir. Arming weapons now,’ replied the pilot swinging the ship around and powering towards the blip that had appeared on his cockpit display. He flicked the cover from the firing stud on his control column. There was a mechanical ‘thunk’ as the chin mounted rail-cannon deployed from its stowed position and then swivelled towards the crawler, already designated as a target by the co-pilot.

Isaacs saw the Condor at the last second as it sank, vulture-like over the bulky yellow crawler. Swearing, he instinctively yanked the controls to avoid the collision and gunned the engines, pulling the Profit Margin out of the landing manoeuvre and swinging her back around into an attack posture. The crawler continued to bounce heavily over the dusty earth, kicking up yellow clouds as it went.

Inside the crawler, Farouk strained to see the Condor as it hovered behind and above them. The sound of Cox’s voice resounded loudly over the comm. system as the ship’s engines roared loudly outside and the crawler’s engine throbbed as Ibrahim, hunched intently over the controls, expertly guided the vehicle over the boulder strewn terrain.

‘I say again. Crawler XC5063, you are ordered to halt immediately. Failure to do so will be treated as an indication of guilt and you will be fired upon.’

‘Nice,’ said Rekkid. ‘I love Admiral Cox. Always a man with his eye on the letter of the law.’

‘He sounds pretty pissed off to me,’ said Katherine. ‘Can’t imagine why

’

‘Mmm

’ replied the Arkari. ‘We do seem to have that effect on people. Farouk, when is this contact of yours going to pull us out of this mess?’

An ear splitting roar and a buffeting shockwave answered his question as the Profit Margin overshot the crawler and began banking around in front of them, a flurry of dust whipped in the wake of its passing.

‘About now I’d say,’ said Farouk, and grinned.

Isaacs levelled the Profit Margin off and aimed the sleek vessel at the dark, angular shape of the landing craft pursuing the crawler across the sulphurous desert. Downwash from the landing craft’s VTOL engines caused the yellow dust to billow outwards on all sides, however the crew of the Condor had obviously woken up to the fact that they were not alone in the sky as the craft began to turn to face Isaacs’ ship. A lock-on warning tone warbled in the cockpit as the Profit Margin’s weapon system computed its own firing solution. Isaacs jinked the craft and yelled to Anita, now at the controls of the dorsal and ventral turrets.

‘Anita! Put a shot across their bows. Try to get these fuckers to back off. Let them know that we’re armed.’

‘Roger that Cal,’ replied Anita excitedly. Seconds later and the Profit Margin’s new particle beam turrets stitched a line of fire across the desert mere metres away from the landing craft’s port wing as the fast-moving vessel swooped around for another run. The bright, lancing beams stabbed outwards at an ever increasing angle as they sought to maintain their aim at the target Anita had given them.

‘Why didn’t you tell her to shoot them down?’ said Anna. ‘It’d solve our problem.’

‘Yeah, but what can I say? I thought I might give them a chance to back off first. Let’s try and keep the body count as low as possible today eh?’

‘A shame that they don’t appear to feel the same way,’ Anna replied as the missile lock tone rang throughout the cockpit.

Cox hung on for dear life inside the Condor as the pilot banked wildly to avoid the lancing fire coming from the speeding vessel.

‘For Christ’s sake man, he’s only trying to scare us off,’ he barked at the pilot. ‘Don’t you think he’d have been able to hit us easily from that range?’ He watched the sleek vessel recede into the distance and begin to bank into another turn. ‘Well what the hell are you waiting for son? Shoot him down!’

‘Yes sir,’ replied the pilot and depressed the trigger on his control column. Two guided missiles sped from their underwing pods towards the Profit Margin.

Hammering the countermeasures button on his controls, Isaacs swept the Profit Margin into a turn so tight that the vessel practically stood on the tip of its stubby starboard wing as Anna operated the ship’s jamming suite to little avail. The missiles were coming about.

‘It’s not good Cal,’ she said through a voice choked with fear. ‘The fucking things keep switching between guidance modes.’

‘I’ll take us lower, try to block their line of sight until they go ballistic,’ Isaacs muttered, throwing the ship into another tight turn, the desert outside whipping by almost close enough to touch.

‘Jesus, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!’ Anna almost screeched.

‘Hey, you wanna drive?’ he shot back.

The ship juddered suddenly.

‘The fuck was that!?’ Anna exclaimed.

‘It’s me!’ yelled Anita over the comm. ‘I’m gonna see if I can shoot the things down. The tracking software in these turrets is pretty good. I should be able to use them as defensive turrets at a pinch.’

‘Worth a try,’ Isaacs replied, and then breathed in sharply as a series of tall boulders shot past mere metres from the ship. The juddering had settled into a steady series of bursts as Anita fired furiously at the closing missiles, the targeting software struggling to compute the variables of the wildly jinking ship and the rapidly moving projectiles.

Isaacs braked suddenly into a turn. The two missiles overshot. He saw the particle beams from the ship reach out and claim one of them and heard Anita’s whoop of success. As Isaacs turned rapidly in the opposite direction the other lost its lock and flew dumbly onwards before ploughing into a cliff and exploding.

Cox had ordered the crew of the Condor to return their attentions to the crawler, which had slipped further away in the confusion and was still refusing to halt. The pilot now began firing at the fleeing vehicle’s wheels with the chin mounted rail cannon in an attempt to disable it. A stream of high velocity shells spat forth from the powerful gatling weapon with a loud tearing sound.

Inside the cab of the crawler, the occupants felt the vehicle shudder from the impact of the rounds hitting the rear wheels. Farouk looked grimly at the others.

‘Bastards are trying to knock out the tyres.’

‘Can we withstand it?’ said Rekkid. ‘Just how tough is this thing?’

‘For a while, yes. The tyres are solid and heavily reinforced for operating in terrain such as this, but eventually they will disintegrate. It’s just as well that the engine on this thing is underneath the main chassis. No chance of them hitting it unless they blow us up, however soon that may be

’

At the controls, Ibrahim swore as he felt the vehicle veer to one side, as the left-hand rear tyre started to come apart under the assault.

Isaacs had brought the Profit Margin around and was powering back towards the signal from the crawler. They were receiving a frantic radio transmission from Farouk now, alerting them to the fact that the vehicle was being fired upon. Drastic measures would be required.

‘Anita!’ yelled Isaacs over the comm. ‘Be ready with those turrets. We need to take down that ship as quickly as possible if this rescue’s going to work!’

He could see the Marine Corp vessel and the crawler now as approaching specks amid a cloud of yellow dust.

‘Anita!?’

‘I can’t

. I can’t, I’m sorry Cal.’

‘What!?’

‘I can’t shoot those people

I’m sorry.’

‘Oh, fucking hell!’ Isaacs spat. They were almost on top of the Condor now. In desperation, Isaacs slammed on the reverse thrusters to kill their speed and swung the Profit Margin’s nose around to come to rest pointing at the rear of the landing craft. He flipped the safety from the trigger from the twin rail cannons, newly mounted in the vessel’s wing roots, and fired.

Two streams of high velocity case-less shells collided with the landing craft at the base of the rear starboard wing and tore the wing clean from the main fuselage. The force of the impact span the vessel round, causing the line of impacts to tear across the VTOL engine nozzles located on the starboard side of the craft. It sagged visibly, slewed sideways and then fell the ten metres into the yellow desert sands, where it crashed in a shower of dust.

Isaacs brought the Profit Margin to a screaming halt above the crawler, whose driver had now realised that they were no longer being pursued and was bringing the vehicle to a halt. The left rear wheel, mangled by gunfire, bumped awkwardly along the dusty ground.

Holding the vessel steady on AG, Isaacs lowered the boarding ramp over the crawler as Anna signalled to its occupants. After a few moments, four suited figures clutching several items of baggage emerged from the top hatch of the vehicle and scrambled into the waiting ship. Once everyone was aboard, Isaacs closed the ramp, aimed the nose of the vessel skywards and pushed the throttle to maximum. As the Profit Margin shot upwards towards the clouds Anna began signalling to the rest of the Hidden Hand force.

‘Able, this Charlie. We have our guests aboard. You may commence with the next stage.’

‘Jesus Able, you certainly took your sweet time down there. You run into a few difficulties?’

‘A little welcoming party, yeah.’

‘Alright, Baker’s jumping in now. Able out.’

The Profit Margin cleared the thick yellow cloud deck and climbed towards space at the head of a spear of plasma.

As the Churchill jumped in barely two kilometres from the Hidden Hand fleet, Chen swept her gaze across the tactical situation on her HUD. Goldstein had brought them out of their jump right on top of the pirates. Good. She smiled in satisfaction. A ragged collection of corvettes was strung out in a loose formation. They would be easy prey for the main guns of the carrier. She was about to give the order to fire when another wing of ships jumped in. Vendiri corvettes, blunt and ugly things. Singh raised the alarm:

‘Admiral, I’m detecting antimatter warheads aboard that new wing of vessels!’

Maria saw space distort out of the corner of her eye. Bringing her ship around, she saw to her horror the massive bulk of the Saturn class carrier blotting out the stars as it emerged from hyperspace. The vessel was huge and bristling with armaments. A voice cut in over the comm., the calm translated tones of Captain Vakkulak at the head of his wing of corvettes.

‘Baker wing arriving on station. We are preparing to fire. What the

’

With alarm she realised that Baker wing were also emerging from their jump. The radiological signatures of the AM warheads they were carrying would be clear as day to the carrier’s sensors at this range. As Maria swung her vessel around away from the looming warship and began powering forward she yelled frantically over the comm. to the other vessels

‘All ships this is Able one! Abort mission! Repeat, abort mission! Execute emergency jump pattern.’

The Churchill opened fire with its forward anti-fighter turrets. Converging beams from the rapid firing laser weapons tore Baker wing apart in a matter of seconds. Maria registered their demise as she desperately twisted her ship away from the line of fire. Her co-pilot meanwhile punched frantically at the navigational computer in an attempt to initiate their escape jump. The rest of Able squadron were scattering too as the attack turned into a rout.

‘Pirate vessels, this is Admiral Chen of the Commonwealth Navy carrier Winston S. Churchill.’ The clipped businesslike tones cut in over her comm. ‘You will power down your vessels or you will be fired upon. Rest assured if you attempt to escape you will be pursued by our fighter squadrons and hunted down.’

As if to illustrate her point a wing of Daemon class space superiority fighters sped from the Churchill’s bow catapults.

‘What do you think?’ said Maria’s co-pilot, a panicky looking man by the name of Lin. ‘You think we should comply? They’ve locked onto us and we’re well within range of their guns.’

‘I say we take our chances,’ said Maria over the chiming of the lock-on warning. ‘Let them try and follow us.’ She punched the jump drive activation sequence and prayed that her rear shields would hold against the barrage until they were clear.

Wheezing from the sulphurous air slowly leaking into the broken ship, Cox hauled himself upright and pulled an emergency breathing mask over his face. The cool, clean oxygen was a relief to his tortured lungs. He looked about the cabin, which tilted crazily downwards and to the left. Most of the crew were still alive, though a stray piece of shrapnel from the engine had taken off the co-pilot’s head and filled the cockpit with a mass of gore. The pilot seemed to be just conscious, although his helmeted head lolled oddly against his seat. Most of the marines seemed dazed but okay, having been fully armoured when the impact had taken place. They had managed to seal their combat suits and were groggily collecting their equipment. Reynaud lay in a semi-conscious heap at the rear of the craft, apparently having been thrust into an emergency suit.

Cox reached under the cockpit console and activated the emergency beacon, then settled down to wait for rescue.

Chen saw the pirate ships trying to jump out.

‘God damn it. Gunnery control, open fire on all ships!’ she barked angrily. The remaining vessels were subjected to a barrage of fire as they attempted to flee.

‘Gunnery. Report.’

‘Firing was partially successful. We’re seeing debris from three ships. The jump drive on one other malfunctioned, so there’s nothing left of that one. We think the remaining two escaped.’

‘Roger that,’ Chen replied. ‘Commander Singh, track those fleeing ships and relay the information to our fighters. I want to find out where the hell they’re running to.’

‘Aye, Admiral.’ Singh peered at his console for a second. ‘Admiral we have an additional incoming contact approaching from the moon’s surface. It’s coming from the region where Cox had hidden his base. Admiral

it’s the Profit Margin!’

Isaacs’ curiosity was first peaked by the distant flashes in the darkening sky above them, towards which the Profit Margin was climbing at full throttle. It would be several minutes until they were far enough out of the moon’s gravity well to activate the jump drive.

‘What the fuck? Anna, get Maria on the comm. and find out what’s going on up there.’

‘I’m trying, there’s no response

oh shit.’ She noticed the new contact now visible to the ship’s sensors. ‘It’s a warship, a big one. Looks like the game’s up. It’s that Saturn class carrier. It’s launching fighters. Shit, they already took out all of Baker wing. Look at the size of that thing!’

‘Yeah, well let’s see if I can talk our way out of this.’

‘Oh? Nice. We really are fucked then.’

‘Lemme talk to Anita. Anita? Under no circumstances will you fire our weapons. We need to play this cool.’

There was a mumbled response.

‘You really think she’s likely to?’ said Anna. ‘After what happened back there? I

’

She turned at the sound of footsteps on the decking. Rekkid and Katherine had made their way forward into the cockpit. They seated themselves in the additional positions behind Isaacs and Anna.

‘How are we doing?’ said Katherine. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Ahh

that’s a little hard to say at the moment,’ Anna replied. ‘Right now we’re headed straight for a Navy carrier that just wiped out half of our friends and my faithful husband here intends to charm his way out.’

As if in response the comm. crackled into life. Voice only.

‘Good evening Captain Isaacs. This is Chen. You and I need to talk. Right now. Please dock with us immediately. I am dispatching fighters to escort you in.’

Isaacs realised that Chen’s request was couched within an air of menace. He did his best to sound casual

‘Uh, listen Admiral, it’s nice to see you. You know I was hoping you’d get in touch again. I sure could use another one of those jobs. Listen, what the hell just happened here? I saw firing

’

‘Captain. Your vessel has just come from an area on the moon’s surface that has just come under attack. I think you might know what just happened here, however I need to talk to you about something else. We’ve been looking for you Cal. I need to talk to you

about what keeps you awake at nights.’

‘Cal, we’ll have reached minimum safe jump distance in thirty seconds,’ said Anna. ‘Coordinates are punched in and ready to go.’

Isaacs didn’t reply. He stared incredulously at Chen’s image. What did she know?

Rekkid leaned over and spoke smoothly.

‘Admiral Chen, it’s a pleasure to meet you again. This is Professor Cor. Doctor O’Reilly is with me and we need to talk to you right now about what Cox and his team have been doing down there.’

There was moment’s silence, then Chen spoke again.

‘I

Professor Cor, this is a surprise,’ she replied. ‘I should have known you two would be involved in this debacle somehow

we’ll speak once you’ve docked.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Anna, and punched the jump drive. The Profit Margin vanished into hyperspace in a ripple of space-time.

‘What the hell are you doing!?’ cried Rekkid. ‘We need to talk to her!’

‘Our orders were to return these two to base. Besides, she’s Navy. I don’t trust her,’ Anna replied sharply. ‘That woman’s killed a lot of our kind of people in her time. We dock with that carrier and they’ll take this ship apart until there’s nothing left but nuts and bolts, and I doubt Cal and I will see the outside of a jail cell for the next decade at least. If they trace us back to Port Royal we’re all screwed.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Cal replied. ‘It sounded like she genuinely wanted to speak to me. She knows something

about what happened to me, about what we’re facing.’

‘Drop the ship out of its jump,’ said Katherine. ‘We have to go back.’

‘We can’t,’ said Anna. ‘The ship’s locked into a pre-programmed jump sequence back to Port Royal. The margins are so fine that if we interfere it could be disastrous. You don’t want to plunge into a star, now do you?’

‘We have to get a message to her somehow,’ said Katherine. ‘There’s got to be a way of doing it so that it won’t compromise you. Chen’s ship isn’t regular Navy, she and her crew are part of Special Operations Command and they aren’t fighting pirates.’

‘They’re fighting the Shapers, aren’t they?’ said Isaacs.

Katherine nodded slowly.

Chen saw the Profit Margin vanish from view just off the port bow and cursed under her breath. She turned to Singh.

‘Commander, do you have a fix on their jump signature?’

‘Yes Admiral, I’m relaying the information to our recon wings now.’

‘Can we pursue them with the Churchill?’ she asked.

‘I’d advise against it,’ Singh responded. ‘Based on their trajectory it looks like they’re pulling the same trick as before and if a ship this size ends up that deep inside a gravity well

’

‘I know. We’ll let our recon wings handle it.’ She thumped the arm of her command couch. ‘God damn you Isaacs,’ she muttered and gazed out toward the point of the Profit Margin’s departure

Chapter 23

On the edges of the Hadar system, the Profit Margin emerged from its jump and docked quickly with Port Royal. The docking bay lights stood out clearly as concentric rectangular patterns against the dark mountain of rock and ice. The ship slid into the bay and settled onto the hangar deck, which now stood noticeably empty of ships. Many of those that had made it back were badly damaged, their hulls buckled and punctured by the high energy impacts of the Churchill’s weapons. By comparison, the Profit Margin was unscathed save for smears of sulphurous dust that had stuck to the hull’s static charge.

Isaacs ran the ship through its shut down sequence and looked over at Anna, who stared forlornly out at the empty landing pads on the deck and thought of her missing comrades. It had taken them over an hour to finally shake off the patrols that Chen had deployed. Her Navy bloodhounds were good. It was just as well that Isaacs was better.

‘Hey,’ he said, leaning over. ‘Look I’m really sorry about those guys. Maybe a few more will make it back before the day’s out.’

She waved him off. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she said. ‘It was me, I fucked up. It was my mission and I killed them.’

‘Hey,’ Isaacs replied sharply, chastising her for her own self pity. ‘You have to stop that right now! You weren’t to know that the Churchill would spot us. The Nahabe fed you shitty intel about the disposition of their recon wings.’

‘Or maybe they just didn’t bother to tell us and considered it an acceptable expenditure of personnel if the operation destroyed that Shaper ship, did you consider that?’

‘Anna, those other crews knew what they were getting into. You go flying around with antimatter weapons and you know you’re going to get fired upon if you get spotted doing it. Come on, let’s go see The Speaker. I think he has some explaining to do. Besides, he’ll want to greet our guests, won’t he?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she replied distractedly, then smiled and pointed out of the port side of the cockpit. ‘At least Maria made it back, look.’

Isaacs peered over and saw the battered form of the Pre-Emptive Strike settle unsteadily into its berth, the corvette’s starboard engine having been reduced to misshapen slag. Other dark lines of carbon scoring criss-crossed the aft portion of the vessel and the ship’s atmospheric control fins were peppered with holes.

He smiled, got up from his seat and walked stiffly towards the door.

‘See?’ he said. ‘I told you more would make it back. I guess your friends were better pilots than I anticipated.’

‘You think now is the time for one-up-manship? You’d better see to our guests Cal,’ she replied coldly.

Isaacs snorted and walked out. She heard him calling aft for the two academics, who had retired during the journey to one of the small passenger cabins.

Farouk she knew fairly well anyway. He and his brother had been running errands for the Hidden Hand since even before she’d joined, but she wasn’t sure what to make of the pair of archaeologists. They seemed pleasant enough, in the distracted sort of way that academics often appeared to her. Both of them, she was sure, knew far more about their current situation than they were letting on. She had noticed them conferring quietly in their cabin, and huddling around the slim Arkari made computer that they had brought with them.

‘Seems like we’ve arrived at last,’ said Rekkid, listening to the sounds of the ship die away.

‘Hmm, looked like some sort of asteroid base or something on approach,’ Katherine replied, having called up an external view on the windowless cabin’s view-screen. ‘Maybe we’re in the system’s main belt?’

‘I think we’re further out than that,’ Rekkid replied. ‘It looked far too dark outside. My guess is that were somewhere in the Kuiper belt, or on a rogue un-catalogued body far above the ecliptic.’

‘That’d make sense. It would make it particularly hard for the Navy to find.’

‘Hmm. I guess our hosts won’t be too keen if we try to contact Chen then.’

‘Well, the fact that they just wasted a Navy facility and she just shot a load of their ships out of the sky made that fairly clear.’

‘Yes

but what about our Captain Isaacs, the saviour of the hour. The two of them seemed to know one another. I wonder what his story is?’ Rekkid said thoughtfully.

At that point the door opened and Isaacs stepped inside. He looked exhausted. A sheen of sweat coated his brow and his flight gear stank.

‘Ah, the man himself!’ said Rekkid. ‘I take it we’ve arrived at

wherever you’ve brought us to?’

‘Yeah, welcome to Port Royal, secret base of the Hidden Hand, or what’s left of them anyway.’ Isaacs let out a weary sigh. ‘Listen, you guys want to grab your stuff and come with me? I gather you’ll be provided with temporary quarters and what passes for leadership around here wants to talk to you I expect.’ He rolled his eyes theatrically.

As he left the small cabin, Isaacs saw Anita standing awkwardly in the corridor. She hadn’t spoken to him since they’d left Rhyolite. She looked utterly miserable.

‘I’m sorry Cal. I’m sorry I fucked up. I

’

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘It’s not easy to fire a weapon at another human being. I don’t know

maybe you should be proud of yourself.’

‘I should?’

‘Yeah. There’s precious few people who would hesitate before killing someone around here these days.’

The Speaker was waiting for them in one of Port Royal’s hydroponic caverns that served as both farmland, park and atmospheric recycler for the residents of the base. The creature’s dark obelisk floated above a manicured lawn surrounded by vine draped trees of terrestrial origin. The scent of the flowers from the vines hung heavy in the air beneath the unnatural glow of the cavern’s light tube.

Katherine and Rekkid looked about them in curiosity at the strange scene whilst Anna’s mouth compressed itself into a thin, angry line at the sight of the Nahabe. Isaacs noted that the two archaeologists took much of what they were seeing in their stride. He stood and watched as Anna strode over towards The Speaker and began to remonstrate with it.

‘I hope you intend to apologise,’ she began. ‘That mission was fucked up from the start! Jesus, how could you people not know that the Navy would be all over us after we jumped in! You must have known! Is that what you call an acceptable risk? Is that all we are to you, dispensable cannon fodder to be thrown away? Well fuck you; we lost a lot of good people today!’

The Nahabe did not speak at first. It remained silent at Anna’s diatribe, floating before her as she stood poised and incandescent with rage.

‘Fucking answer me!’ she screamed and shoved the Nahabe with the flat of her hand, it floated backwards a few inches then returned to its original position.

‘No,’ it said. ‘We did not know, and the disposition of the Churchill’s recon wings at that moment should not have allowed them to witness the attack. The Churchill was too far around the limb of the moon to have witnessed it herself and the gas giant Beatty would have obscured the site from the recon flights they had deployed as well as the other Navy vessels in the system. We chose that time precisely because it offered the best cover and we made sure of their dispositions before you were given the go signal to jump in.’

‘So what happened then?’ Isaacs said, cutting in. ‘Did a civilian vessel happen to jump in above the moon and relay our position?’

‘No, although we did consider the possibility when the attack occurred,’ the Nahabe replied. ‘However, our sensors registered a number of tight beam hypercom transmissions directed towards a number of the Churchill’s recon vessels. They appear to have been relaying sensor information to the ships in question, essentially allowing them to witness the attack in progress and thus alert the Churchill in time for the carrier to respond. We triangulated the source of the hypercom signals through hyperspace and found that they originated from the dig site on the surface of the moon. However they are most definitely not of human origin. Such subtle hacking can only be the work of a high level AI. I doubt that the personnel on board the Navy ships were ever aware that their vessels’ systems had been compromised.’

‘It was that ship, wasn’t it?’ said Katherine. ‘It has to be

’

‘You are correct Doctor O’Reilly,’ The Speaker replied. ‘Forgive my rudeness, for I have not yet had the opportunity to welcome yourself and Professor Cor to our humble outpost. Yes, the Shaper vessel is indeed fully intact and is only faking its inactivity. Its core systems are in fact fully operational, though it appears it is capable of masking this fact from the less sophisticated technologies available to your civilisation.’

‘We went inside that thing,’ said Rekkid. ‘It had an old human vessel buried inside it. The damn thing was using the ship’s former captain as some sort of

component for its systems until Katherine here took the initiative and killed him. Believe me, it was a mercy.’

‘Yes we had guessed as much. What readings we could take of the vessel had indicated to us that there was some sort of regular structure buried within. Doubtless it had used his memories to navigate its way into Commonwealth space. This suit that encases me is the legacy my kind carries from a previous time when we were subject to the attentions of the Shapers. Now we watch for them constantly. Alas your own government is not so prudent, which is why we avoid contact with your military as much as possible. We have reason to believe that they have been compromised, as I have already explained to Captain Isaacs here.’

‘What about the Arkari?’ said Rekkid. ‘My people are usually pretty good at this sort of thing. War Marshal Mentith may a pain in the arse, but I can’t deny that he’s thorough.’

‘So far we believe that the Arkari government and military have not been penetrated by the Shapers, at least we possess no evidence that they have been. In any case, I hope yourself and Doctor O’Reilly will be able to fill us in on what you know of the situation in this system, as well as share your other experiences with us.’

‘Perhaps, once you’ve proven who you are,’ said Katherine. ‘How do we know that we are on the same side? We only have your word for it.’

‘Ah, your prudence is admirable. In time you will learn to trust us.’

‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ Anna interjected. ‘How do we know we can trust those two? Just who are these people?’

‘The answer to your first question is of course that I discreetly scanned our guests as soon as you all entered the chamber. The answer to your second question is that Professor Cor and Doctor O’Reilly are archaeologists of some renown who have prior experience of the Shapers and who are currently in the employ of Special Operations Command.’

‘You’re working for Admiral Chen? Fuck

’

‘No Anna,’ said The Speaker. ‘They are working for her superiors, and though this may surprise you, Chen is not the enemy. She was merely responding to an attack upon a naval facility and does not appear to know what has been transpiring in this system.’

‘I wouldn’t say we were close,’ said Katherine. ‘Chen’s not exactly what you’d call a people person. That said, she’s one hell of a fighter. Personally I’m surprised anyone got away from your raiding party alive.’

‘Hey, we have some good pilots here,’ Anna retorted.

‘Really? Look Anna, Rekkid and I are only still alive because of her,’ said Katherine. ‘She fired the first Commonwealth shots of the war, took on what seemed like half the K’Soth Imperial Navy and she came out fighting. Haines didn’t hesitate to enlist her into his and Mentith’s pet black ops outfit once she’d proven herself, and she has a grudge against the Shapers a mile wide. You do know it was they who engineered the outbreak of hostilities, don’t you?’

‘We had guessed as much,’ said The Speaker quietly. ‘You have proof?’

‘We certainly do,’ Katherine replied. ‘Mentith fried one of those brain larva things of theirs right in front of us on Maranos. It turned out to be the very guy who’d instigated our work on the planet in the first place. What we uncovered kicked the whole thing off.’

‘We had heard rumours,’ said The Speaker. ‘Ancient engines buried inside the planet

a great battle with a terrible alien force

The reports were garbled but all pointed to you having found a relic of Those Who Went Before, the ones you call the Progenitors.’

‘Yes,’ said Katherine. ‘It’s all true. We found a wormhole device that opened a gateway into the far future. Both sides began the war over it, and the technology that it promised us. We’ve never encountered a Shaper vessel before though, nor have we yet seen one of them in person, only their creatures.’

‘I have,’ blurted out Isaacs.

‘I’m sorry?’ said Rekkid.

‘I said I’ve seen them, in the flesh. Not that you could ever call it that. I’ve been inside one of their ships before

I was lucky to get out alive. That’s why I agreed to go on the mission once I saw what the Hidden Hand were planning to destroy. That damn ship has haunted my dreams

’

‘It seems that we have much to discuss,’ said The Speaker.

The group had moved into the shade of a small grove of trees where they sat upon a collection of mismatched garden furniture that had been left there, the leftovers from some haul or other. Katherine and Rekkid sat with Isaacs and Anna and after listening to the Nahabe tell them the history of its people, they in turn told about how the war had begun, what they had seen and experienced and how they had been the unwitting tools in the great cosmic game that the Shapers were playing.

Now was Isaacs’ turn to tell his side of the story. Katherine saw the man’s face change as he gathered his thoughts. He acquired the thousand yard stare that she had seen before on the faces of those who had endured terrible suffering, or had seen past the tiny pockets of civilisation and glimpsed the cosmic horrors that lay beyond. Sometimes she saw that look on her own face when she looked into the mirror, staring at her own reflection in the small hours of the morning when what she herself had seen stopped her from sleeping.

‘It was just a routine training run,’ said Isaacs at last. ‘I was still in training, flying bombers for the Navy and we were using asteroids as target practice somewhere out on the south western reaches. The fucking system didn’t even have a name. Anyway, we got a distress call from a freighter and our squadron leader took us in to investigate. It was just some independent hauler with a poor maintenance record, or so we thought.’

He paused for breath, then continued.

‘As soon as we jumped in we know something was up. The freighter captain claimed that his crew had seen something right before they lost power: another ship. We started to check out the area and picked up all sorts of weird readings from the space around the freighter. Then the alien ship

a Shaper ship, just like the one on Rhyolite, it

it just appeared from nowhere.’

‘It just appeared? What was it using, some sort of cloaking technology?’ said Rekkid.

‘I don’t think so, it was like it just faded into existence, as though it was a predator lurking right below the surface of a still lake and had chosen that moment to reach out and grab us. Our ships died right there and then. That thing just sucked the power right out of them and dragged us inside. I think it stunned us into unconsciousness then. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up inside the ship

and I could never forget that.’

‘Go on,’ Anna urged him. ‘You know it does you good to talk about it.’

‘Yeah, well. Anyway when I came to I was inside the ship. I was held in some sort of restraining field, surrounded by instruments. The chamber was made of this weird, crystalline material: it moved and reshaped itself like it was alive somehow. We were all lined up in a row with me right at the end. The Shapers had already got to work on the others

they

they just took them apart. I don’t know how

there was no blood or anything, but I saw them dissect the others. Jesus, they were alive the whole time

it was like they just opened them up and took them apart like you’d take apart an engine or something. They wanted to know how we worked. The ones that died right away were the lucky ones

some of the others

they burrowed into their heads and did things to their brains. They took Carlotti’s brain right out of his head and I swear he was alive the whole time! Jesus I can’t forget the screaming

and the smell

’

The others had fallen silent with shock and disgust. Even Rekkid’s normally composed features had turned a shade paler.

‘I didn’t see the Shapers straight away. At first it was just the room that was doing the work, whip like tendrils and blades that grew from the ceiling, floor and walls. The whole fucking room was alive! Anyway after they removed Carlotti’s brain they must have made a mistake or something because two of them came into the chamber to inspect what was left of him. At least I think there were two them, it was difficult to tell. They weren’t exactly solid, more like a coordinated swarm of glittering insects or intelligent smoke. I

I can’t really describe it; they just sort of coalesced in front of me. There was no definite outline, but they had eyes. I know because one of them looked right at me. It was like looking into the mouth of hell. I think it tried to communicate with me. It spoke, after a fashion. The sound was like the buzzing of a million bees inside my head. I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t reply. I thought that this was going to be it, that I’d end up in pieces on those glorified butcher’s slabs

but I didn’t.’

He looked at Rekkid

‘Your people saved me, Professor Cor. I don’t know how but they must have taken the Shapers by surprise, though I doubt it’s a mistake the Shapers will make again. Right at that moment I felt something hit the ship and it all went dark. The Arkari must have gotten a boarding party into the ship somehow and they grabbed me as I was the only one left alive. From what I heard the Arkari even managed to destroy the ship but I didn’t see it. I woke up in the medical facility aboard the Arkari vessel, the Star Ascendant. Eventually I got shipped back home to my unit, but I couldn’t cope with what I’d seen. I dropped out, drifted and ended up as a freelance captain.’

‘You never received any help?’ said Katherine.

‘Not really, the whole thing was classified. They debriefed me and offered me counselling, but I couldn’t talk about what I’d witnessed. From what I gather the Navy searched the entire system and found nothing.’

‘It seems strange that the Arkari weren’t more concerned,’ said The Speaker. ‘

‘Yeah well, maybe they figured that they ought to leave me be. After all, I had no idea what had just happened to me. I didn’t find out who that ship belonged to until I came here. Maybe explaining what had occurred was too great a risk.’

‘They weren’t interested in the fact you had seen the Shapers?’

‘They never asked me much. I never heard the word mentioned, that was for sure.’

‘Maybe,’ said Rekkid. ‘They didn’t really appreciate it themselves. From what I gather, not all of the Arkari Navy are party to all intelligence on the Shapers. Maybe the captain of the Star Ascendant just listed the encounter as ‘unknown alien ship’ and left it at that. After all, exploratory missions from other arms of the galaxy have been encountered from time to time in our history and not all have them have been friendly.’

‘So the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing, is that it?’ said Anna. ‘So much for the superiority of the Arkari civilisation.’

‘Yes well, take it from me it just enables us to bugger things up more spectacularly,’ Rekkid replied. ‘Let’s face it; given the size of our navy, it’s hardly surprising. Unfortunately in this case it meant that Mr Isaacs here was denied the opportunity to provide them with useful intelligence and didn’t get the help he needed. The only person known to have seen the Shapers first hand and survived to tell anyone about it and they let you slip through their fingers. You should come with us, meet with Chen. She needs to hear about this.’

‘I think that’s what she’s here for,’ said Isaacs. ‘She said she wanted to talk.’

‘Perhaps,’ said The Speaker. ‘But we must proceed with caution. We do not know that this Admiral Chen is reliable, that she herself has not been tainted. In time we will contact her.’

‘In time?’ said Katherine. ‘And when would be a good time? When that thing on the planet stops playing dead and does whatever it came here to do? We need to speak to her right now!’

‘Not yet,’ said The Speaker firmly. ‘First we require a copy of all data that you have in your possession on the Shapers. We must fully analyse the current situation before we make a move. We would also like to know as much as possible about Admiral Chen, her personality and motives, your own observations of her character and

’

‘Alright!’ snapped Katherine.

‘Good grief,’ said Rekkid. ‘You people really are over cautious. Ever hear about the concept of taking risks? Making quick decisions?’

‘No,’ said The Speaker. ‘It leads to errors. Errors lead to contamination.’

‘So does failure to act,’ the Arkari retorted. ‘You have to let us leave. I promise to you that we will not divulge the location of this base

not that we even know where we are anyway. We appreciate the assistance you have given us, but time really is of the essence!’

There was a commotion behind them, the sound of hurried feet on the gravel path into the glade. Anita strode quickly into the centre of the group. She wore a shocked expression

‘Have you heard?’ she blurted out. ‘On the news channels, just now. President Rheinhold’s been arrested!’

‘What!? When?’ asked Katherine, bewildered.

‘It was on the hypercom feed that we leech from the system net. It’s all over the news channels. They’ve arrested him and several members of the cabinet for corruption and embezzlement.’

‘You see?’ said The Speaker. ‘Your institutions are riddled with corruption. Mistrust, dishonesty and personal ambitions are the preferred tools of the Shapers. No doubt your politicians provide them with rich pickings. We cannot deal with the Commonwealth. The risk to the Nahabe is too great if we do so.’

‘You must have known about this!’ said Anna, rounding on The Speaker. ‘You didn’t think it worth mentioning!?’

‘I was still attempting to verify the truth of the matter,’ the Nahabe replied.

Anna shook her head derisively as Anita unrolled a small screen and held it out. The others huddled around it to see, though The Speaker remained floating in the same spot. The images were grainy, and were overlaid with the words ‘Breaking News’ and the logo of one of the Solar System’s principle news networks. The recording was shaky as though shot via a hand held recorder or a remote at extreme range and was further rendered an air of unreality due to the night vision apparatus enhancing the images. It showed the presidential summer residence beside Lake Geneva, the columns of white marble glowing softly in the moonlight and the flashing lights of the police AG cruisers that dotted the broad, smooth swathe of lawn. The view focused in on the main entrance of the building, where a group of uniformed men emerged with an unmistakable figure in their midst. His grey hair for once out of place, President Rheinhold nevertheless appeared defiant as he was ushered into the back of one of the cruisers. The recording ended and was replaced by the immaculately manicured features of a news presenter, her brown skin shining under studio lights.

‘Shocking images submitted to us just moments ago and which are still being checked for authenticity but which at this moment appear to be genuine and appear to show the President being escorted from his residence by CIB agents and the police. Rheinhold and his cabinet have of course been the subject of numerous financial investigations in recent months, following the disclosure of massive campaign donations by a number of leading defence contractors and mining corporations, the existence of large slush fund created from anonymous donations and the further revelations that Defence Minister Mannheim and Foreign Secretary Andreyev failed to disclose a number of personal donations made to them a mere six months before the outbreak of hostilities with the K’Soth Empire. We are getting reports that these two individuals have also been taken into custody. As yet we have no word from the Vice President but we understand that the military is being placed on a higher state of readiness. We’ll have more news as we get it

’

Anita killed the display and put it back in her pocket.

‘You think he really is guilty?’ said Katherine. ‘You think Rheinhold allowed himself to be manipulated?’

‘Who knows?’ said Isaacs. ‘I trust politicians about as far as I can throw them, most of the time.’

‘This smells like a set up to me,’ said Rekkid. ‘I don’t doubt that maybe Rheinhold allowed himself to be manipulated for financial gain. But this sort of response seems a little unusual, not to mention excessive. What the hell were all those armed police doing there?’

‘Security?’ said Anita.

‘So why were they all looking at Rheinhold? Normally there’s agents and armed guards around him, but they’re all looking outwards for threats. They were watching him like a hawk. Is Rheinhold a Shaper agent? Or any of his cabinet?’

‘Not that we are aware of, no,’ said The Speaker. ‘Rheinhold was surrounded with anti-Shaper security measures as soon as their presence was known to your intelligence services, but as for the allegations, I’m afraid some of them at least are true. Rheinhold was careless and stupid and his ministers more so. You see what avarice does to you people? You are so easily manipulated. I would hazard that this is the Shapers’ doing and I would estimate that they have been orchestrating this for some time.’

‘Why?’ said Anita.

‘To destabilise your government, of course. Confusion will reign in the higher echelons of politics for some time and people in the distant colonies and sovereign worlds will start to lose faith in the central authority. Cracks will begin to show soon enough, mark my words.’

‘What are they planning to do?’ said Katherine. ‘What do you people know about our enemy? We have to warn them!’

‘Alas, we do not know what the Shapers are planning,’ The Speaker replied. ‘And as I said: You will be permitted to return to your people once we have exchanged knowledge. Until then, we must watch, and wait.’

‘Nice plan,’ said Isaacs. ‘No wonder you people got fucked by the Shapers. If it’s the all the same to you, I think I’ll pass on becoming a fully paid up member of your little Hidden Hand club. I stand more chance of surviving on my own. Hell, if you give me some warheads I might even nuke that ship for you. I reckon I stand more chance by myself than this entire chickenshit operation. You guys are more than welcome to join me by the way,’ he added, waving a casual hand at the rest of the group. ‘If anyone wants me I’ll be in my ship.’

With that, he turned and stalked angrily out of the chamber. Anna ran after him and grabbed his arm.

‘Come on Cal, don’t be like that. You need to give them a chance.’

‘A chance? You said it yourself; we lost a lot of good people today.’

‘Cal, the Nahabe have fought these things before and they survived.’

‘Yeah? I think they lost, I think they lost because they’ve eked out a pathetic existence ever since. You want humanity to spend the rest of its existence inside a fucking box? Do you? What’s the point of surviving if life isn’t worth living? With all the technology those pompous idiots have at their disposal, they just sit on their hands whilst we face these things. What’s the point in gathering intelligence if you don’t act on it? We need to win, Anna. We need to fight these things and we need to win because I’ve seen first-hand what happens when you lose!’

‘Cal

’

‘I’ll be leaving as soon as I can. There’s a place on my ship if you want it Anna. Same goes for the others. We need to find Chen and then get the fuck away from here when all hell breaks loose.’

Katherine watched the two figures argue.

‘What do you think?’ she said to Rekkid. ‘Do you think we can trust Isaacs?’

‘Yes I do,’ Rekkid replied. ‘I get the distinct impression that he’s the only one with any sense around here. As soon as his ship’s ready we need to leave on it. The Hidden Hand might have failed to destroy that ship, but I doubt that Admiral Chen will. She needs to know what’s going on here.’

‘Hi!’ said Anita. ‘What about me? Can I come?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Rekkid. ‘Are you normally this disturbingly cheerful?’

‘Yep.’

‘She can come then,’ said Katherine. ‘I think we need someone around to counter your constant bad temper.’

‘I am not bad tempered,’ Rekkid replied. ‘I’m just

more practically minded that’s all.’ He saw Katherine wink at Anita. ‘Oh bollocks to the pair you. Come on, let’s go get something to eat

hey, where did The Speaker go?’

Katherine and Anita turned to face the empty spot where The Speaker had previously hovered. The creature had left without saying a word.

As it floated back to its quarters the creature that called itself The Speaker fumed inside its sarcophagus. It had so wanted to help! It had sat there, impotent whilst the others had raged against it. But its superiors had been quite clear on the matter and the Nahabe people respected their ancient hierarchy and traditions of service and order. There was to be no sudden move to help the other races. The intelligence gathering was purely for the benefit of Nahabe kind. Any move that was to be made to help others was not to be the result of misguided altruism.

It had felt helpless, restricted and foolish. It could see the danger. It knew that the Nahabe had the power to act. Furiously, it opened a communications channel to the home-world.

Chapter 24

Chen watched the faces of her bridge crew as she told them that the President had been arrested and simultaneously relayed the news to the rest of the ship via the comm. She noted their responses, from shock to confusion, to derision and anger. She herself had been shocked. She’d privately suspected that Rheinhold was crooked, but the charges that were reportedly being brought against him were almost on a par with treason.

‘Admiral, what are we supposed to do now?’ said Ensign Goldstein, her face a mask of uncertainty.

‘The orders that came through from Command that the Navy have placed all ships on a heightened state of alert, that includes us even though we’re part of SOC,’ Chen replied. ‘The logical assumption is that this would be an ideal time for others to benefit from the turmoil in our government. We need to be ready to respond at a moment’s notice if the situation should change.’

There were a few mutters of agreement.

‘Mr Haldane, a word in my office. Mr Singh you have the bridge.’

Haldane nodded and followed her.

Once in her office with the door closed, Chen leant against the corner of her desk and folded her arms. Haldane remained standing rigidly upright until Chen indicated that he should have a seat.

‘So what do you think?’ she said.

‘Ma’am?’

‘About the situation, about Rheinhold.’

‘I’m

not sure. I mean I watch the news the same as anyone else. This scandal’s being going on for months

you know I voted for him at the last election? I thought we needed an experienced man at the helm when the K’Soth were gearing up for war.’

‘Do you think the charges are genuine?’

‘I don’t know. I couldn’t get over the fact that the footage we saw showed armed guards escorting him.’

‘They didn’t seem like bodyguards did they?’

‘No

do you think this is a set up?’

‘Possibly. Once we’re done here I intend to talk to Haines, find out what the hell’s going on. I’d say there was a possibility that the Shapers had a hand in this. What do you say?’

‘It had occurred to me too.’

‘Alright.’ She nodded quickly, then changed the subject. ‘How goes the search for the base that those pirates are operating out of?’

‘Not good. We’re pretty sure that they’re operating from somewhere in the system’s Kuiper belt, but with a system this size there’s got to be millions of objects out there. It could take forever.’

‘Maybe we’ll get lucky.’

‘Maybe.’

‘In the mean time I want you to set up combat air patrol around Rhyolite and Barstow Station. With all that’s gone on it’s important that we reassure the locals that we’re still in control and deter anyone from thinking they can use this as some sort of opportunity to take advantage of our attention being elsewhere.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘That will be all Commander, you may return to the bridge.’

She watched him go. She somehow felt reassured. Haldane may be a little stiff, but he wasn’t stupid. She’d need someone like that by her side if the balloon went up. But she really needed Al Ramirez by her side now. Everything about this whole situation felt wrong. The mysterious ship on the planet, the President’s arrest: her gut feeling told her that the Shapers were involved somehow. They were carefully moving their pieces into place.

She’d give the search for Isaacs another day or so and then return to Haines with or without him. She needed to know what was going on, and so did he, and she no longer trusted the supposed privacy of the hypercom network. She didn’t know who might be listening.

The armada hung in the sky above Rhyolite, the huge slab-like shapes of two carriers and the utilitarian profiles of their attendant warships were silhouetted against the blue-white glare of the suns. Beneath them, the massive shapes of two Atlas class heavy lifters descended through the turbulent atmosphere of the moon towards the scarred and cratered dig site below, where the alien vessel lay untouched by the devastation that had raged around it.

Around sixty warships had taken up defensive positions in the space around Rhyolite under Admiral Cox’s command. The Jupiter class carrier Germanicus held orbit above the descending ships, its attendant battle group of destroyers and frigates deployed in a defensive posture about it. Further out, its fighter wings flew combat patrols about the larger vessels while torpedo bombers waited, fuelled and ready, aboard the carrier’s forward catapults.

The Charon class Marine assault carrier Marathon hung off the Germanicus’s starboard side attended by two destroyers and a handful of defensive cruisers, the rest of its battle group having been dispersed throughout the space around Beatty to watch for any Hidden Hand vessels. Its detachment of marines meanwhile had taken up a number of fortified positions on the surface of Rhyolite around the dig site, should any saboteurs attempt to sneak into the facility.

Meanwhile the Saturn class carrier Nimitz and its flotilla of ships held station much further out from Rhyolite, where the lessening of the moon’s gravity well made manoeuvring easier but where they could respond quickly to any incoming threats to the dig site and monitor the traffic coming and going from Barstow orbital and the moon itself.

Cox watched the proceedings calmly from his command couch on the bridge of his own vessel, the Germanicus. From the display he had called into his HUD from the carrier’s belly cameras, the two Atlas lifters were visible as two points of light, glowing whitely against the swirling yellow-brown cloud deck which periodically obscured them from view.

He would remain here. He had no wish to return to the surface of that blasted moon. His time huddled inside the remains of the downed Condor had been unpleasant and undignified enough. It galled him that it had been a shuttle from the Churchill that had rescued him and not one of his own craft that had picked him out of that sulphurous desert. Besides, his place was here in command of his fleet. He had full confidence in the captains of the lifters, both experienced men, to get the job done.

In truth he almost wanted the Hidden Hand to have another go at attacking his prize, now he had so much firepower assembled in one place, but he knew that even those wretched pirates weren’t stupid enough to try their luck against such odds. It was a pity really, he’d really like to meet that son-of-a-bitch pilot who’d knocked his Condor out of the sky and yanked those two traitors from under his nose, but with the benefit of superior firepower.

The two lifters finally vanished from view completely, hidden at last by the thick, swirling atmosphere. Cox turned to his comms officer.

‘Mr Lee, telemetry report from the lifters.’

The younger man studied his console.

‘Looking good, sir. Both ships are clear down the line, two kilometres from the surface. They’re switching to AG now sir.’

The changeover from one drive system to another was vital, otherwise anything below the ships would be vaporised by the spears of superheated exhaust from the massive ships. Cox doubted whether it would have much effect on the alien ship however. He’d seen one of the kinetic munitions from the Hidden Hand raid actually strike the ancient vessel without even leaving a scratch on its curious, crystalline surface.

Kilometres below, the two Atlas lifters landed fore and aft of the alien ship with surprising delicacy, given their sheer size and weight. Their mass weighed somewhat less in the moon’s reduced gravity, but the heavy, cleated landing claws still sank into the rocky surface, splitting boulders beneath their immense pressure.

The alien ship had now been completely exhumed from the lava. It lay at the bottom of the pit, surrounded by the mangled wreckage of the base and a few temporary buildings that had been hastily erected following the attack to house the work crews.

It was strange, some of them had mused. The lava around the base of the vessel had proved to be much more brittle and easy to remove. The strange effect that the ship had been having on people’s minds had also ceased. The ship seemed to be co-operating with them. It was almost as if it now wanted to get the excavation finished as quickly as possible as much as they did.

Simultaneously, the Atlases extended high powered tractor fields into the pit, cradling the alien ship. Antigravity fields followed, negating the pull of Rhyolite. The Atlases began to lift the alien ship slowly from the pit as small boulders and other debris were tossed into the air by the sudden reversal of gravity and the application of the heavy lifting fields. The ships took the strain with their AG motors, holding the alien ship level between them whilst negating the effect of its transferred weight onto themselves. Then slowly, the three ships began to climb in unison. Two kilometres up, the lifters engaged their downwards-angled main engines and accelerated towards space, boiling the atmosphere with four blinding spears of blue-white plasma.

There was a ragged cheer from the assembled bridge crew as the group of three vessels emerged from the cloud deck and powered towards the waiting carrier groups. Cox allowed himself a satisfied smile. Everything was proceeding to plan. He knew Reynaud couldn’t wait to get to work on the mysterious craft. Even now, the doctor was back at Centrepoint Station setting up the lab he had been provided with and briefing the staff he had been assigned. The man seemed to have recovered from his ordeal remarkably quickly. The prospect of working on the alien craft seemed to have taken priority in the doctor’s mind from the shock of being bombed and then shot down less than a day ago. Like Cox, he had been lucky not to be seriously injured.

The lifters and their precious cargo climbed upwards out of Rhyolite’s gravity well. As they drew closer, Cox ordered the Germanicus and Marathon battle groups to form up around the vessels. The Nimitz and her ships would follow as rearguard, whilst the Marathon itself would remain on station to recover its complement of marines.

Cox then watched with satisfaction as the well trained crews of the Navy carefully slotted their vessels into their assigned stations around the vulnerable lifters. It made his heart swell with pride to see his men and women act with such well rehearsed precision. The manoeuvre completed, each vessel in the flotilla slaved its navigational computer to that onboard the Germanicus. Then the vast array of warships jumped out simultaneously, space rippling from the multiple distortions like a choppy sea.

Katherine tossed and turned in her sleep in the small private quarters that she had been assigned. As she slept, inside her mind, the ship spoke to her again. Now the ship’s mind was free of Captain Blake’s personality it could taunt her at will.

She stood on the rocky shoreline of a long dried up sea. Above, the black hole she had seen before cast its deathly light over the desolate scene. A thick mist hung heavy in the chasm where the seabed had once dropped away sharply. As she watched, she saw lights moving beneath the fog. They resolved themselves into two pale, glowing eyes that regarded her with a cold, calculating malevolence. A dark slit appeared in the mist beneath those two luminous points. It opened wide, in a mocking grin of inky darkness. She felt herself being pulled towards that blackness, felt herself falling into the chill of night.

Someone grabbed her, pulled her back, took hold of her shoulders and hauled her back into the light.

She awoke to see Rekkid’s concerned face leaning over. His normally smooth brow was wrinkled with concern.

‘Another dream?’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ she replied blearily. ‘It was the ship again. I think

I think it was mocking me. It was the same scene as before, with the dead planet and the black hole. But there was something there a

’ she tried to find the right word. ‘A presence of some kind. Another mind. The mind of the ship.’

‘Hmm,’ said Rekkid and looked thoughtful. ‘Well it may have got what it wanted all along. I actually came to tell you that Cox’s men have finally managed to get the ship off Rhyolite. The Hidden Hand’s scouts just reported back. Several ships in the holding patterns around the moon witnessed it being lifted into space by a couple of Atlas class ships.’

‘Couldn’t anyone stop them? Shoot them down?’

‘No. Cox wasn’t taking any chances. There must have been something like fifty or sixty ships guarding that thing. With the meagre resources that the Hidden Hand have at their disposal they wouldn’t have got close. It’d have been suicide.’

‘So they’re taking it back to Centrepoint Station?’

‘Under very heavy guard, yes.’

‘I assume Reynaud’s going to start poking around inside it once it gets there. We should just give him a hornets’ nest and a pointy stick and let him get on with it.’

‘Hmm well your brain isn’t the only one that ship’s been messing with. Reynaud thinks it will make him famous and Cox thinks that whatever Reynaud finds will boost his stagnating career and make him the saviour of us all.’

‘I think they’re both in for a nasty surprise.’

‘Well, they might not be the only ones.’

The armada emerged from its jump in perfect synchronisation. Centrepoint Station loomed large in Cox’s view from the bridge, its metal and composite structure gleaming whitely in the actinic star light against the blackness of space.

‘Helm, all stop. Disengage links to navigational computer,’ Cox ordered. ‘Mr Lee, order the lifters to move the alien ship into dry-dock. All other ships are to assume a defensive posture.’

The close formation of vessels began to break up, the large vessels peeling slowly away to face outwards from the station. As Cox watched, the two lifters and their precious cargo passed by on the port side of the Germanicus, heading for the blast doors of one of Centrepoint’s docking bays which even now began to slowly part to welcome it. Once inside, the ship would be tethered and held within the weightless environment of the dock and then the dock itself would then be flooded with atmosphere to allow human technicians and researchers inside.

The lifters approached, and carefully handed off their cargo to a swarm of yellow Termite class tugs that hauled it carefully inside, the heavy bay doors closing slowly behind them.

‘Ensign,’ said Cox. ‘Send a coded transmission to Command. Inform them that the vessel is secure.’

He reclined in his command chair, the knowledge of a successfully completed mission and his impending and undoubted reward filling him with excitement and pride.

Chapter 25

The ship watched the figures as they approached its underside with anticipation. It felt the loss of Captain Blake intensely. Created as a scouting/insurgency vessel it functioned best when bonded with the biological species it had been tasked with gathering intelligence upon. It and the man had been together for so long that he had felt like a part of it and the ship had spent the long years exploring the passageways of his mind. There had been so much to learn from his imperfect biological brain; in particular it had learned that humans were insatiably curious, selfish and avaricious creatures. These were flaws that could be exploited. It floated in the bay, a wounded thing. It was incomplete, but not for much longer. It hungered.

Reynaud stood under the belly of the beast. The black, spiny bulk of the alien ship swelled above him, blocking the light from the main lighting rigs within the docking bay. Capable of housing a single carrier-sized vessel during maintenance or refit, the docking bay had been sealed and filled with air, allowing men and equipment to move unhindered within the weightless environment. The vessel floated in the middle of the bay, held in place by a lattice-work of gantries and tethers that surrounded it like a flimsy cocoon. Technicians swarmed about the gantries, fixing scanning and recording equipment into place, their suit clad bodies like tiny ants amid the maze of braces and struts while others moved in the air around the vessel, piloting small lifters or manoeuvring on the attitude thrusters of heavy industrial suits.

The dock itself was guarded by a full detachment of marines, whilst Cox’s armada held formation around Centrepoint Station, forming an interlocking, layered defence with their powerful guns and squadrons of fighters.

Reynaud however would be the first to re-enter the vessel since the debacle on the surface of Rhyolite. He shook his head ruefully when he thought of Katherine’s reaction to what they had found inside the craft. Typical of a woman, he thought, so hysterical. They could have learned so much more if the captain of the Magellan had been allowed to survive. The things that that man must have seen: such wonders! Reynaud could scarcely wait to uncover them for himself. His name would remain in the history books for all time. His career would reach heights he had never dreamed of, whilst the books and recording rights of his discoveries would make him wealthy. He smiled to himself with barely disguised glee.

Looking upwards towards the right hand wall of the dock he saw Cox looking down at him from the windows of the broad gallery that formed the dock’s control room. Cox’s deep voice resounded in Reynaud’s earpiece.

‘Dr Reynaud, are you ready to proceed?’

‘Yes Admiral, I have all the equipment I need for my preliminary investigations,’ he replied, gesturing to the two technicians standing behind him with an equipment pallet loaded with instruments floating between them in the weightless environment.

‘Very well. Enter the vessel. Make sure you remain in contact with us once you’re inside. We don’t want anything untoward happening again.’

‘Of course, Admiral. Moving inside now.’

Reynaud activated the thruster belt about his waist and drifted slowly forward towards the gaping entrance at the base of the vessel, his booted feet sweeping inches above the decking. The two technicians activated their equipment pallet and clung to the side of the bulky device as it began to drift forward.

As he reached the lip of the entrance into the ship, Reynaud paused and touched down on the surface of the crystalline material beneath his feet. He placed a hand on what passed for the surface of the vessel, feeling the strange solid contact with what appeared to be empty space above the material. He pushed his hand more forcefully towards the surface, but with no success, save for a slight tingling sensation in his palm. The darkness of the ship’s interior beckoned.

Moving inwards, Reynaud unclipped a small torch from his belt and swept it over the black, angular walls. They glittered oddly in the refracted light from their hyperdimensional surfaces. Behind him he heard the technicians swearing as they attempted to manoeuvre the bulky pallet into the restricted spaces of the entrance.

‘Doctor? How’s it going in there,’ said Cox, his voice buzzing in Reynaud’s ear.

‘Okay so far Admiral,’ Reynaud replied. ‘Everything appears as we left it. I’m approaching the Magellan’s airlock door now and it’s still sealed.’

He swept his torch beam over the gleaming metal of the door, its crude appearance contrasting sharply with the crystalline structure that it was embedded within. Since Katherine had euthanized what had remained of the ship’s captain, no-one had been inside the vessel. Cox had decreed that it was to remain off limits until it could be opened again in a secure environment where a proper examination could be carried out. The remains of the airlock door had been replaced with a temporary seal that had been welded to the outside of the lock by the crews on Rhyolite to maintain the integrity of the ship’s contents and prevent any other vandalism by persons authorised or otherwise.

Reynaud approached the first of the blocky, yellow locks and removed a key card from his pocket. He slid the card into a slot on the seal’s face and listened to the solid clicking sound as it released its grip. He did the same with the second lock, grabbed the door and pulled it open, then floated inside. The technicians followed, struggling with the equipment pallet and turning it diagonally on its side to fit through the small opening.

‘Admiral, this is Reynaud. We’re inside the ship. I’m heading up to the bridge. I think my first line of investigation is to examine the body of the ship’s captain.’

‘Very good doctor,’ Cox replied, his voice sounding scratchy due to the weak signal. ‘I can have some of our medical staff from the station come down there and assist you if you like. Perhaps they might be able to determine precisely what that ship did to him better than yourself, how it kept him alive for so long, how it integrated him into its systems.’

‘Yes, thank you Admiral. That would be a great help.’

‘I’ll have them sent down to you immediately, Cox out.’

Reynaud turned left from the airlock and headed forward, past the still winking lights of the ghost ship’s active systems, through the narrow connecting corridor that led to the bridge. The gentle whirring of the antique computer systems were the only sounds until the clang of the equipment pallet striking the edge of a bulkhead resounded down the corridor.

‘Everything alright?’ said Reynaud acidly, turning to face the two men, one of whom was retrieving a handheld spectroscope from where it had fallen. Evidently they were having problems moving the pallet out of the airlock and around into the corridor.

‘Yes Doctor. We’re just finding it difficult to manoeuvre this bloody thing in such tight space,’ replied one of the technicians, a stocky, balding man in stained overalls. ‘Makes you wonder how people coped, being cooped up in a thing like this for months at a time.’

‘Years, actually,’ said the other one. ‘You never hear about these ships? Deep space exploration vessels from the early days. The crews spent most of their time in suspended animation, what with those early jump drives being so slow and all. I hear this one went as far as the core though. Quite an achievement even now. Listen Doctor, if you want to go on ahead, we’ll catch up with you once we’ve got this thing sorted out. Shout for us on the comm. if you need anything.’

‘Very well,’ Reynaud replied, nodding. ‘I’ll see you gentlemen on the bridge.’

He pressed on, arriving at the junction of ladders and corridors aft of the bridge, and then onwards to the bridge itself. He looked around the small chamber filled with gently whirring, winking consoles and immediately noticed something different. Captain Blake’s body was nowhere to be seen. The crystalline structure still could still be seen, protruding down through the roof of the bridge, but it had withered to small stump. The captain’s chair remained, the only sign of his passing an ancient, brown-stained patch of blood where he had once sat.

‘Admiral Cox this is Doctor Reynaud. I’ve reached the bridge. There’s no sign of the body. Are you sure that no-one else has entered the vessel?’

‘Absolutely. Have a look at the alien machinery: maybe the ship rejected and recycled Blake’s body once he was dead? We need to know how the hell that thing works. Human-machine integration on that level is unheard of. It could be useful to us.’

‘Yes of course. Reynaud out.’

He stood in front of the captain’s chair and peered upwards at the stump of glittering material. Patterns shifted within it like the rest of the material that the alien ship was constructed from. But instead of the gentle shifting patterns seen elsewhere, these writhed and thrashed like snakes.

He shifted his position to get a better look, and it was then that he discovered he couldn’t move. Looking down in sudden horror he realised that tendrils of the same material had grown up through the floor around his feet, gripping his boots in a vice-like grip. As he watched, they grew up his legs, turning him and forcing him down into the chair. Panicking he tried to activate his comm.

‘Admiral Cox, this is Reynaud. The ship it’s

it’s got hold of me.’

There was no signal. All transmissions were being blocked. Looking up he saw the stump of crystal begin to grow, black whip-like tendrils of matter extruded downwards with alarming speed, whilst the ones grasping at his feet had now reached his waist.

‘Oh god! Get me out of this thing!’ he cried. ‘Somebody please help me! Help me!’

Within seconds the two technicians had arrived on the bridge. Glancing in horror at Reynaud the stockier of the two began pulling at the rapidly growing tendrils with his hands, trying to free Reynaud. The other ran back and returned with a plasma torch.

Reynaud saw them die.

Black tendrils stabbed downwards, skewering the two men. They stood in the poses they had assumed at the moment of impalement, twitching involuntarily from the massive, sudden trauma as their blood gushed onto the ancient decking

The tendrils from the ceiling had now reached him. They fastened under his thrashing arms, lifting him up on a pillar of rapidly growing machinery as he screamed.

His thrashing arms were a nuisance, so the ship removed them. It only required his brain and the mechanisms to keep it alive. The tendrils edges grew razor sharp, then constricted suddenly, removing the unnecessary limbs and cauterising the stumps as Reynaud screamed in agony.

His legs were next. The machinery around them had tired of their twitching so it neatly removed them as Reynaud’s screaming, limbless torso was lifted clear of their remains. The legs themselves were vomited forth by the pile of machinery as it grew and reconfigured itself. Reynaud was lowered back down onto a series of newly grown plugs and jacks that would integrate themselves with his digestive system. The machines began to burrow into his lower torso like maggots, devouring his bowels and cradling his heart with their life support mechanisms.

His screaming head was enmeshed by the black web of tendrils. They held him firmly in precise position, then they plunged into his skull, burrowing into his eyes where they clustered around his optic nerve, plunged down his throat into his abdominal cavity, cutting off his screams as they filled his oesophagus. They crept into his ears and also directly through the needle thin holes that they burrowed into his skull. Filaments of machinery grew throughout what remained of his body, as his twitching subsided. He became one with the alien ship as it burrowed into his mind. Then it spoke to him.

Cox looked to his staff. Reynaud and the two technicians had suddenly vanished. They couldn’t detect their presence aboard the alien ship at all, and communications had suddenly failed.

‘Goddamn it. Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ he snapped. ‘I left instructions that this was to be done by the book. We can’t have defective equipment at a time like this.’

‘Sir, system diagnostics report that our sensors and comms are working perfectly,’ said a flustered looking ensign.

‘Can you be sure of that?’

‘The Chief Engineer reports that Centrepoint Station is able to detect all docked ships and those in the vicinity except this one. It would appear that the ship has assumed some sort of black body posture.’

‘Shit. Send a squad of marines down to the ship and get those men out of there! I don’t like this one bit. That thing is supposed to be dormant! Reynaud gave me his assurances. Are we getting any readings whatsoever from the vessel?’

‘The gantry mounted scanners we have in place are reporting increased levels of electromagnetic activity and a fifteen percent increase in neutrino emissions.’

‘Jesus Christ, look at that!’

Cox heard the cry coming from one of the techs and turned to look out of the control room windows. Something was happening to the surface of the alien ship. Its normally dark surface was alive with shifting patterns.

Reynaud saw wonders.

He saw the galaxy laid out before him, a glittering island of a hundred billion suns. He saw the myriad of civilisations that clustered every spiral arm. He saw the Shapers’ legions of willing slaves spreading outwards along those shining pathways. He saw their might and their power. He saw countless billions from thousands of unknown alien races fighting and dying across thousands of systems as the Shapers crushed, absorbed and subjugated all before them.

It spoke to him then.

The Singularity spoke to him.

Reynaud’s mind was flayed apart in the firestorm of the machine-god’s thoughts. It showed him what it planned for the human race, how its power would consume this galaxy and then spread across the universe.

Reynaud writhed in terror and elation at the grandeur and horror of it all.

Humanity would be elevated.

Humanity would achieve godhood as part of this supreme empire.

Submission was required.

Greed and cowardice and fear consumed Reynaud.

He told the god everything it asked of him.

He joined with it gladly.

Cox watched in wonder as the ship’s surface shifted chameleon-like before him. Colour flashed across its surface, steadily brightening to an ice-like sheen. It was so beautiful, so elegant.

‘Admiral, sensors are detecting massive neutrino emissions from the ship. Oh my god

Sir, hyperspace sensors are detecting huge fluctuations in the local volume.’

The ship reached out across hyperspace to the vast engines that its kind had constructed at the heart of the galaxy. Its consciousness blazed like a beacon, allowing those engines to get an exact fix on its position as they span up to full power and reached out across thousands of light years.

The ship brightened to a blinding blue-white glare. It came alive then, flexing its interlocking plates like a waking animal as it shook itself within its moorings.

‘Sir I think the ship is powering up for a jump. We need to evacuate the station or everyone inside is going to be killed by the backwash. Sir?’

Cox realised now. He realised his mistake.

Everything vanished.

Far out in the Kuiper belt, the Churchill moved lazily among the sparsely scattered chunks of rock and ice, barely visible in the darkness at such a distance from Hadar’s twin suns. Chen was trying to get some sleep in her quarters, but the questions raised by the events of the past few days occupied her mind. Cox’s lifting of the alien ship off the surface of Rhyolite had finally revealed what the sly old goat had been hiding down there. She had watched from the edge of the system as he had secured his prize relic at Centrepoint Station, but the question remained as to why the Hidden Hand had been so keen to destroy it, and whether the ship itself, whatever its origins, had been responsible for the mysterious deaths at the dig site. One way or another, she wanted to get a look at that thing before she reported back to Haines. Scans taken of the dig site during the encounter with the Hidden Hand had revealed a tapered, spiny craft of unknown design, although something about it made her skin crawl. The very form of the thing raised some primal fear at the back of her mind.

She was roused from her sleepless mental turmoil by the chiming of the ship’s comm. near the bed head. Rolling over she stretched out a hand and activated it.

‘Chen here.’

‘Admiral, this is Haldane. Sorry to disturb you, but I think you should come up to the bridge. Centrepoint Station has… disappeared, God knows how!’

‘I’ll be right there,’ she replied. ‘Chen out.’

She had a very bad feeling about this.

Chen strode briskly onto the bridge. Haldane looked worried.

‘Tell me what you know Commander.’

‘We were recovering the recon flights when something tripped our hyperspace sensors. We thought it was maybe another ship jumping in close by but when Commander Singh ran some checks he didn’t detect any other vessels. Instead it appears that some sort of hyperspatial wave passed through us.’

‘Another ship jumped through us?’

‘No, we thought so at first, but the wave was huge. It was far too large to be a ship. Singh did some further scans and we found that the wave itself was spherical and that it was expanding outwards across the system from the Lagrange point between the two stars at a speed far in excess of C. Whatever happened, that wave originated at Centrepoint Station. A high energy burst of neutrinos is expanding in a wave front inside the hyperspace wave at light speed. It’ll hit us in about ten minutes.’

‘And Centrepoint itself?’

‘It isn’t there, so it seems. We turned the long range hyperspace sensors on its position and we can’t pick up anything. Neither the station nor any of the ships that were stationed there are visible, though we did detect a short lived space time curvature event. It seems like a massive wormhole formed there for a split second.’

This had to be connected to Cox’s alien ship somehow, Chen thought. Even the most catastrophic jump drive accident wouldn’t produce a result of such proportions. Had he unwittingly released some sort of advanced alien weapon?

‘Commander. Is there any debris in the vicinity?’

‘None that we can detect for here, it’s like they all vanished right in front of us. It’ll take around two hours for the light to reach us as this distance, so getting a mark one eyeball on what’s left will cost us a critical amount of time if we’re to render any assistance.’

‘Very well. We need to get a closer look and render assistance to any survivors. Recall all recon flights. Once all ships are aboard, helm, plot a jump that will bring us in one hundred kilometres away from Centrepoint’s last known position.’

The Speaker felt the wave pass through him, and he shuddered within his sarcophagus as it relayed the results of its detection of the event to his central nervous system.

It had begun then. Those fools had taken the bait. He knew what would come next: Fire, death, corruption and suffering like his people had suffered centuries before. He dispatched an urgent message to his government with the data his sarcophagus had just collected, and pulled in additional data from Port Royal’s sensor suites that provided secondary confirmation as well as the location of the event.

They must act now. They must.

He summoned the others to him.

Half an hour later, the Churchill emerged from its jump and came to a full stop one hundred kilometres away from the Lagrange point where Centrepoint Station ought to be, and indeed was. The metal archipelago hung in space, shining in the light of the suns and surrounded by the armada of vessels that Cox had assembled.

‘What the hell

’ Chen breathed. ‘Lieutenant Singh, report.’

‘I don’t believe it

just a second ma’am; I’m scanning local space for any anomalies.’

‘I hope this wasn’t a wild goose chase, Lieutenant.’

‘It’s not. Our sensors were working perfectly before, I doubled checked

wait a second. I’m now detecting a second hyperspatial wave emanating from this point. It originated from the Lagrange point just over five minutes before we emerged from our jump. It’s over twenty AUs in diameter already and expanding. We must have passed through it on the way in. Helm, did you pick up anything?’

‘Confirmed,’ replied Ensign Goldstein. ‘The hyperspace envelope compensated for the chop so we didn’t feel it but yeah, we passed through it alright.’

‘I’m also picking up another expanding burst of neutrinos and, Admiral, the entire area around the station is swamped with tachyons and zero-point energy bursts. There are also a series of ripples in space-time, as though it’s snapping back into place after being heavily distorted, sort of like the backwash you get from jumping ships but over a much wider area.’

‘What the hell went on here?’ said Chen.

‘My guess: something opened a wormhole before and then did it again just now. These readings are very similar to some of the data collected about the Maranos portal. This is different though

’

‘Centrepoint Station is hailing us,’ said Ensign Andrews at the comm. station.

‘Put them through,’ said Chen. The image of one of the traffic controllers appeared in her HUD.

‘Good day to you Churchill, your arrival is a little unexpected. Is there anything we can do for you?’

‘We were wondering if there was anything we could do for you actually, Centrepoint. Put me through to Admiral Cox please.’

‘Certainly. Just a moment,’ the man replied smoothly. His image disappeared and was replaced a second later by that of Admiral Cox. He was sitting in a control room surrounding by busy technicians. He smiled genially at her.

‘Ah Admiral Chen, I was wondering when you might call on me again. I understand you came to offer us assistance.’

‘Yes. Our sensors registered a massive hyperspace pulse emanating from this location. It appeared to us that the station had been destroyed. Admittedly, we were some distance from the event – we were on the edge of the system at the time – but when we got here we found you still sitting here. Nevertheless we are tracking another more recent pulse created just a few minutes ago as well as waves of exotic particles.’

‘Well Admiral Chen as you can see we’re all safe and sound. However my technicians were attempting to activate the ship’s drive system. It would appear that something went rather badly wrong when we fed power to what we took to be the engines. We don’t fully understand what powers this vessel nor how it moves through space, but the drive appeared to misfire a couple of times. Gave us all a bit of a fright, felt like someone was trying to turn me inside out! But I assure you, we’re fine.’

He was being unusually genial, thought Chen. Her few dealings with Cox had revealed a bad tempered man, short on manners. More to the point she didn’t believe him.

‘Sir, our hyperspace sensors indicated that Centrepoint vanished entirely.’

‘Well I suggest you review your sensor logs. However I would theorise that the hyperspace pulse could have given you false readings.’

‘It’s possible.’

‘Hmm. Nevertheless, I appreciate your concern and your prompt response. You’re a credit to the Navy Admiral Chen. You certainly pulled my ass out of the fire back on Rhyolite. How’s your search for the Hidden Hand going?’

‘Not well. We’ve got a vast area to search out there. It’s like trying to find the needle in the proverbial haystack.’

‘Well look: why don’t you come over to the station with what data you have and we can pool our resources? I can lend a few ships to help you in the search if you like. You find your man, and I get rid of the pirate problem in this system. I might even show you our latest acquisition if you like.’

Something at the back of her mind screamed at her to refuse. She trusted Cox about as far as she could throw him anyway, and now he was offering to show her his pet project, something that he had kept hidden from her and her superiors and he had bridled when she had previously challenged him about it. What did he want?

‘Unfortunately sir, our mission priorities have changed. I’m to report back to Admiral Haines as soon as possible. My guess is that he’s written this off as a wild goose chase and has found me something more productive to use this ship for. We’ll be returning to Barstow to pick up the rest of our personnel there and then we’ll be leaving the system.’

Cox looked at her, slightly crestfallen.

‘Well that’s a pity Michelle,’ he replied. ‘I had the feeling that you and I might make a great team if we worked together. Perhaps another time. Again, thank you for your prompt response.’

‘Not at all sir. Chen out.’ She ended the transmission.

‘He’s lying about something,’ said Haldane, who had sat and watched the conversation on his own HUD monocle. ‘He sounded like he was trying to fob us off.’

‘Yes I think so too, but we need evidence to corroborate our story before we take this to Haines. Otherwise it’s just conjecture. We need someone else to have seen the station disappear. Helm, plot in a course for Barstow. Our security teams are still aboard undercover. Let’s see if they can find anyone who saw anything - anyone who was close enough to get a good look during those twenty or so minutes between the two pulses.’

The Speaker floated before the assembled members of the Hidden Hand who had gathered in his chamber. Katherine, Rekkid and Isaacs stood near the front of the throng along with Anna and Anita and watched again as the station and its attendant fleet of ships vanished in flash of blue-white light in the holographic projection before the Nahabe.

‘It has begun,’ said The Speaker. ‘The Shapers have made their move. I have informed my government of this and they are considering their response.’

‘Considering?’ said Isaacs. ‘What the fuck does that mean?’

‘It means they will deliberate for some time before making an appropriate counter move,’ said The Speaker, wearily.

‘Well how about this. Give the data to me, I’ll make contact with Admiral Chen in person and tell her everything we know. You know it makes sense.’

‘Cal, are you sure we can trust her?’ said Anna.

‘We can trust her,’ said Katherine. ‘Chen may be Navy through and through but she’s trustworthy, and she’ll listen to us. Cal’s idea is the best one any of you lot have had since we’ve arrived.’

‘Very well,’ said The Speaker. ‘Perhaps action is called for. I will probably be punished for this by my superiors, but you shall have all the data we possess on the Shapers in this system. I too think that Mr Isaacs is correct, and have become frustrated by my own people’s unwillingness to act decisively. Perhaps you may fare better than we did.’

‘You’ve done the right thing,’ said Isaacs. ‘You won’t regret it.’

Chapter 26

The creature that had been Admiral Cox gazed through its new and unfamiliar eyes at the console screen. It felt

uncomfortable. It hadn’t quite integrated itself into this body yet and some fragments of the man’s consciousness remained within his sequestered brain. It could hear it sometimes, like the voice of a man trapped in a locked cell screaming to be released. In time the voices would recede.

The others were experiencing similar problems. It took time to get used to these primitive sleeves of imperfect flesh and bone. It dug into its new-found memories and mouthed the necessary words to placate the human female known as Admiral Chen. It was pleased. It seemed to have successfully fooled her. It ended the transmission and opened another, this time using its own subspace methods to signal to the others of its success as it felt the Churchill move away from the station. Then it sent transmissions to its master asking for orders. The answer returned immediately. It was time for the next move.

Cox ordered messages to be sent up the Commonwealth chain of command to report of their progress. The answer came back quickly: the ship was to be moved to better facilities: to the Navy’s Southern Fleet Command headquarters in the Spica system.

The Churchill held station once more inside the traffic control volume around Barstow Orbital. Haldane had taken one of the carrier’s shuttles and had gone aboard to meet with the security personnel that they had left on the station undercover. Chen was taking the opportunity to review Lieutenant Commander Singh’s preliminary findings from their sensor logs, and those of Barstow Station from the period when Centrepoint had appeared to both disappear and re-appear again. The findings were, unfortunately, inconclusive. Neither had been close enough to verify that their apparently anomalous readings from their hyperspace sensors hadn’t been the result of a bizarre engine malfunction in the alien ship, and Barstow had been on the wrong side of the gas giant at the time to train any telescopes on Centrepoint.

Her desk console chimed, it was Singh.

‘Admiral I’m detecting a large number of ships getting under way around Centrepoint. It looks like all three carrier groups are assembling to leave. I can also pick up what looks like the two heavy lifters moving in formation.’

‘Cox is leaving? I wonder why? Get Andrews to open communications. Put it through to this console.’

‘Yes ma’am’

After a few seconds, Cox’s face appeared before her on her HUD wearing a quizzical expression.

‘Admiral Chen. So soon? What can I do for you?’

‘I was wondering why you were leaving us so suddenly, that’s all. After you got your little prize ensconced at Centrepoint and you were so keen to deal with the pirate problem in this system I expected you to be staying longer.’

‘Well, not that it’s really any of your business Michelle, but Admiral Morgan has recalled me and most the ships under my command to the Spica system. A token force will remain of course but it was felt that following our preliminary investigations and the subsequent problems that you witnessed, that the alien ship could be better investigated at the better equipped facilities of Southern Fleet Command. Meanwhile I’m due to receive my just reward, a promotion to full Admiral no less, and the fleet you see here will later be redeployed elsewhere. Admiral Morgan felt that there was no gain to be had from tying up such large assets for such a length of time. I may have a few announcements to make to the press also, regarding our discovery and what it means for the Commonwealth.’

‘I see, and given the recent mishaps you’ve experienced, do you really think it’s wise to keep that thing in such a key military facility? I trust that you’ve informed Admiral Morgan of that.’

‘I have, but we’ve analysed the data we gathered and we think we can better understand the craft’s propulsion method. It won’t happen again, and the superior facilities that will be made available to us will ensure that. Now if you don’t mind? I have to organise three carrier groups for the jump to Spica. Cox out.’

So, Cox had got his long sought after promotion at last. That’d be a boost to his career and his fragile ego, thought Chen, but what on earth had he meant by making announcements to the press? The dig had been a classified operation, even Admiral Haines hadn’t known about it. She didn’t like this at all.

‘This had better work Cal,’ said Anna from the rear of the Profit Margin’s cockpit. ‘The last time we encountered this woman she didn’t hesitate to open fire on us.’

‘Well, you were carrying antimatter,’ said Rekkid. ‘Look I’m sorry about your comrades, they were doing the right thing by trying blow up that damn ship, but what was she supposed to think? That it was somebody’s birthday and you’d resolved to give them an expensive fireworks display? Those are banned weapons and you’re lucky to still be alive. Besides, Katherine and I are on the same side as Chen, allegedly, so she’ll listen to us.’

‘Yes I wouldn’t exactly say we’re bosom buddies, but she’s never tried to shoot us. Well not yet anyway,’ said Katherine reflectively. ‘Oh there was this one time she brought most of the K’Soth Imperial Fleet down on our heads, but it wasn’t really her fault, if you know what I mean.’

‘Great. What are the chances of her throwing us all in the brig?’ said Anna.

‘Fifty-fifty I’d say,’ Rekkid replied. ‘Oh did you hear about the time she sawed a civilian orbital station in half with the main guns of a warship? Oh how we laughed about that one

’

‘Shut up, this has to work. It’s our only sensible choice,’ Isaacs muttered. ‘Coming up on Barstow Station now.’

The star-field phased back into view. The slowly turning wheel of Barstow Station was clearly visible ahead through the cockpit windows. Next to it hung the huge grey slab of the carrier. Isaacs negotiated his way through the traffic patterns and signalled to Barstow traffic control that he wished to approach the carrier. He was ordered to stop until given clearance and duly did so.

There was a pregnant pause for almost a minute before the Churchill requested to communicate.

‘Captain Isaacs, this is an unexpected pleasure,’ said Chen as her face appeared on the comm. screen. ‘Have you come to your senses?’

‘We need to talk,’ said Isaacs bluntly. ‘I have Professor Rekkid Cor and Doctor Katherine O’Reilly with me on board. I believe you three are acquainted.’

‘Yes of course. Professor, Doctor, it’s good to see you again.’

‘We have much to discuss,’ said Rekkid. ‘We’ve made a number of important discoveries that we need to bring to the attention of Haines and Mentith.’

‘I also have Anna Favreaux, my ex-wife and also the de facto human leader of the Hidden Hand with me,’ said Isaacs. ‘She comes of her own free will and wishes to talk.’

‘I see. The Navy takes a dim view of piracy Ms Favreaux.’

‘We’re not pirates,’ Anna replied. ‘The Hidden Hand is a covert organisation sponsored by the Nahabe and dedicated to fighting the Shapers.’

‘Indeed?’

‘We’ll come aboard and talk if you guarantee that none of us will be placed in custody,’ said Isaacs. ‘I know how things look, but we’re on the same side here. It can’t have escaped your notice that odd things have been happening in this system of late.’

‘You’re talking about Centrepoint, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, and there’s more besides that. Much more that you urgently need to know. Admiral Cox is way out of his depth and he doesn’t even realise it.’

‘Admiral, we have reason to believe that the security of the entire Commonwealth could be at stake,’ said Katherine. ‘You have to listen to these people. We believe Cox has gotten hold of a working Shaper vessel and doesn’t realised what he’s found, one that appears dormant but is very much alive.’

‘Alright,’ said Chen. ‘You have permission to come aboard, and I guarantee that Ms Favreaux and Mr Isaacs will be permitted to retain their liberty, for now. I’ll have someone meet you and bring you up to my office once you’ve docked. Chen out.’

‘See?’ said Rekkid. ‘She’s quite reasonable. The brief disappearance of Centrepoint can’t have escaped her notice either and we have the answers she wants.’

‘I just hope she keeps her word,’ Anna muttered as the cavernous mouth of the carrier’s docking bay loomed large in the cockpit windows, ready to swallow the smaller vessel.

Once inside the Churchill, the Profit Margin was directed to a berth on the hangar deck amid the rows of fighters, bombers and other craft Isaacs, Anna, Katherine and Rekkid left the vessel whilst Anita stayed on board to keep an eye on the ship and any of Chen’s people if they started sniffing around.

A security detail met them as soon as they descended the Profit Margin’s access ramp, scanned them, and then escorted them through the carrier’s internal warren of busy corridors, lifts and transport tubes up to Chen’s office, located just aft of the bridge. They were polite, Isaacs noticed, but they were all armed just the same. He couldn’t blame Chen for being cautious.

Chen was seated behind a desk strewn with datapads and paper documents, the sole ornamentation being a rather battered and scorched antique telescope. She told the security detail to wait outside and bade the four of them to sit.

‘Well, it’s good to see the two of you again,’ said Chen to Katherine and Rekkid. ‘Though I must say, wherever you go, trouble seems to follow in your wake.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Now, perhaps if you could fill me in on what the hell is going on around here?’

‘Certainly,’ said Katherine. ‘Several weeks ago, War Marshal Mentith despatched us here to assist with an archaeological dig taking place on the surface of Rhyolite. We were told that an ancient vessel of unknown origin had been uncovered and that perhaps our expertise in this could be put to good use. It was made clear to us upon arrival that due to the advanced technology used to construct the vessel, the operation was classified because of the potential military benefits. The dig was being run by Admiral Cox, as I’m sure you’re aware, as well as the well known archaeologist Dr Charles Reynaud.’

‘Both of whom, I should add, seemed to be using this whole thing as a vehicle to further their own ambitions,’ Rekkid interjected. ‘It seems that this blinded them to a few obvious truths.’

‘Such as?’ said Chen.

‘Well firstly, that vessel is considerably older than the planet that it was found on,’ said Katherine. ‘Hadar is a relatively young system, only a few million years, whereas that ship is billions of years old. It was also in remarkably good condition considering that it was supposed to have crash landed on the surface. On top of this, the ship has the ability to interfere with the minds of those around it. It

spoke to me on several occasions.’

‘It spoke to you

’ said Chen sceptically.

‘I know this sounds rather unlikely,’ said Rekkid in Katherine’s defence. ‘But Katherine’s story is not an isolated case. Numerous workers on the dig reported hallucinations, vivid nightmares, waking visions and other mental aberrations. Cox tried to dismiss these as rumour and scaremongering but that ship does appear to be able to communicate on what, for want of a better term, you might call a telepathic level, though the very word conjures up a load of superstitious nonsense, I know.’

‘It seemed that the ship was trying to warn me about something. I kept seeing images of an ancient human exploration vessel and its captain. I couldn’t make any sense of it until we went inside the ship itself and found such a vessel, the Magellan, embedded within.’

‘The Magellan? One of the early deep space missions? That ship was believed lost centuries ago,’ said Chen in disbelief.

‘We know,’ said Rekkid. ‘But there’s more. Our analysis of the ship found that its structure exists throughout multiple planes. It has no conventional surface as such, merely a hyperdimensional boundary that is difficult for our instruments to penetrate. It does however make use of machine languages that bear, in part, a strong resemblance to those used by Progenitor relics we have so far uncovered. However, the ship itself is not Progenitor technology. We had our suspicions about its origins, but inside we found the very ship’s captain that Katherine had seen in her dreams. The ship had incorporated his body and mind into its systems using technology that bears a fundamental resemblance to that found in the Shaper agents. It seems, however, that some element of Captain Blake had survived and he had been using the ship’s own abilities to attempt to warn people off, resulting in the aforementioned ‘telepathic events’. He pleaded with us to end his life and Katherine here was good enough to oblige. ‘

‘We tried to warn Cox but he wouldn’t listen to us. He even locked us up and had every intention of trying us for ‘vandalising’ the ship,’ said Katherine. ‘In retrospect it seems we delayed the inevitable. We have reason to believe that the Magellan successfully reached the galactic core where it was captured by the Shapers. Their ship then used the memories of the Magellan’s captain to navigate back towards Commonwealth space. Presumably he managed to resist giving up the exact location of Earth, but there’s little doubt that they knew where to look. The ship was bait for the Navy to take, and take it they did.’

‘So where do the Hidden Hand fit into all of this?’ said Chen.

‘We work covertly for Nahabe, as I said,’ said Anna. ‘The Nahabe encountered the Shapers many millennia ago and survived, just. However their culture has become highly isolationist and they are unwilling to intervene directly in the affairs of other races. Nevertheless, they do take an interest in the activities of the Shapers, and when it became clear that something was going on in this part of space they began recruiting people to work for them - but not just anyone. Yes, it’s true that many of us have backgrounds in piracy, smuggling and other shady business, but all members of the Hidden Hand have had dealings with the Shapers and survived, whether it be themselves or a loved one who was directly affected.’

‘Unknown ships have been sighted and logged in this sector, of that I am aware,’ Chen replied.

‘Indeed. Some of these were merely Nahabe craft, but yes, the Shapers have operating in this part of space. It appears that they assumed that their activities would go relatively unnoticed. However, we were working to disrupt their operations, hence our attempt to directly attack and destroy the alien ship which you sadly foiled.’

‘I’m afraid I can offer you no apology Ms Favreaux, ‘said Chen sternly. ‘Those ships of yours were carrying antimatter. It would have been a dereliction of my duty had I not answered a naval distress call and then failed to attack and destroy vessels that represented a clear and present danger to the safety of this ship. You know the law concerning those weapons. However, at the time we were attempting to ascertain the nature of Cox’s operations on Rhyolite, so it does seem that we were working at cross purposes. You should have contacted us sooner with what you know.’

‘We couldn’t be sure that the information would remain secure. The Nahabe have told us that the Navy has been infiltrated by Shaper agents. Admiral Morgan may be one of them.’

‘Morgan!? Are you sure?’

‘Not conclusively. But his actions have given the Nahabe reason to believe so. His deliberate obfuscation and obstruction with regard to Cox’s activities in this system, his role in ordering you into the demilitarized zone that precipitated the war between the Commonwealth and the Empire He even orchestrated an attempt to have Cal followed by using paid members of the Sirius Syndicate in order that he might find our hiding place. It goes on and on. It’s all here.’ She held up a data wafer. ‘As are the testimonies of all our members regarding their encounters with the Shapers, or what they heard.’

‘Yours too, Captain Isaacs?’

‘Yeah, mine too.’

‘On behalf of the Navy I would like to apologise for the way that you were treated. We overlooked your testimony. It could still be of invaluable use to us.’

‘I’m not sure what I could tell you.’

‘You, Captain Isaacs, are one of the few people, perhaps the only person to have seen the Shapers up close and survived.’

‘He is the only one,’ said Anna. ‘None of our other members were ever taken aboard ship.’

‘I would very much appreciate it if you and I could talk at length about your experiences, Captain Isaacs,’ said Chen. ‘I came a long way to talk to you.’

‘Well, I hope I don’t disappoint you,’ Isaacs replied.

‘Anything you can tell us would be useful I’m sure. Now, Centrepoint Harbour: I take it Cox’s pet Shaper vessel had a hand in this? He told us it was just the result of its drive malfunctioning, though I have to say I was highly sceptical. Unfortunately we were out in the Kuiper belt looking for your base when the event occurred, and thinking that there’d been an accident we jumped in to investigate. Centrepoint had apparently re-appeared during the interim.’

‘Well we did take a good look, both with our base’s long range sensors, kindly furnished to us by the Nahabe, as well as high resolution telescopes,’ said Anna. ‘The evidence clearly points to a massive wormhole being opened and swallowing the base.’

‘But the power reserves needed for such an undertaking

’ said Chen.

‘Would be enormous, yes,’ said Rekkid. ‘However the Nahabe have a better understanding of Shaper technology than we do. Their representative believes that the Shaper vessel may have only acted as a form of anchor or beacon for the wormhole terminus. The hole itself would have been spawned elsewhere.’

‘Where?’

‘We don’t know exactly, but doubtless deep within Shaper controlled space. Somewhere near the core would be a good bet. Katherine’s visions, if they can be regarded as accurate, repeatedly showed to her a massive black hole, possibly the one at the centre of the galaxy, the one that my people dubbed the Maelstrom. If the Shapers have harnessed its power somehow they would have almost limitless energy for this sort of undertaking.’

‘My god! Cox had a whole fleet stationed there. Are you saying that thousands of our personnel might have been transported to the Shapers’ home systems and

infected?’

‘Yes, it’s possible.’ Rekkid nodded.

‘Am I right in assuming that wormholes allow travel both in time and space?’

‘Correct. Our experiences with the Maranos device showed that it managed to create wormholes to both the distant past and future.’

‘So even though the station was absent for only a short period, they could have been on the other side of that wormhole for any length of time.’

‘Yes, and there’s no telling what might have happened to them in that period. They could all have been made hosts to Shaper creatures.’

‘I have to warn the Navy of the possible threat. Cox has departed for Spica already, taking all of his ships, and the Shaper vessel with him. Southern Fleet Command has to be alerted to the threat.’

‘Tell them to scan any and all people who try to board the station,’ said Anna. ‘And for god’s sake tell them about the Shaper vessel.’

‘I will. After this I intend to return and brief Admiral Haines and War Marshal Mentith.’

‘Why not just send an encrypted transmission?’ said Anna.

‘Because, Ms Favreaux, we are dealing with an enemy who has already infiltrated our organisation and may very well have access to our encryption routines. Standard Spec Ops protocol involves not sending confidential data via any sort of transmission if we believe channels to be compromised. The warning to Southern Fleet Command to prevent the docking of Cox’s ships I can send in the clear without specifying classified details for now, but for anything else we will only use physical delivery.’

‘But it’s too slow.’

‘I can however send them certain code-words in advance that will give a basic outline of the alert. But this is the only way. Otherwise we risk losing whatever advantage we may have.’

‘We have another advantage,’ said Katherine. ‘Rekkid, show her what else we found.’

‘Yes of course,’ Rekkid replied and produced his computer. Unfolding it he poked and prodded at the keys for a moment before turning it around to show Chen. The glittering galactic model covered in labels written in an alien script confronted her. ‘You see, Admiral Chen, Katherine and I did some digging around in the materials we had gathered from our previous work on the remains of Bivian. What we uncovered is a complete, working model of the war between the Progenitors and the Shapers. We believe that the Progenitors may have left it deliberately for future generations to find. It gives us their tactics. It shows us how they fight. As long as we don’t repeat the mistakes of the Progenitors, it may show us how we can beat them.’

Chapter 27

Chen interviewed Isaacs for a long time. With his permission she recorded the entire conversation and he told her everything that had happened to him when his training flight had been captured by the Shapers and all that had transpired since they had last met. She sat and listened patiently, occasionally interrupting with questions or requests for clarification on a particular point. She was particularly interested in the manner by which the Shaper ship’s presence had been detectable even before it had emerged from hyperspace, not to mention Isaacs’ first-hand look at the Shapers themselves. Then he told her about their attempt to implant his comrades with their creatures.

‘They opened up Carlotti’s skull first,’ Isaacs began, his expression grim as he relived the memory. ‘Fucking hell, he was still alive, and they took this thing, this grub like creature with these spindly tentacles or legs or whatever and placed it in his brain.’ He grimaced. ‘I don’t think that worked too well, the thing began to squeal and Carlotti… he went into convulsions and died there and then I think. Then they let that thing scuttle over to Valdez. They hadn’t operated on him at all, but he was still tied down just like me. The creature… it was hard to see… I didn’t want to see, but I kept looking… it kind of gave birth to a smaller version of itself. You could barely see it, like a tiny caterpillar. It crawled up his nose and nothing happened for while, then Valdez… I don’t know how to put it… they let him out of his restraints, let him stand up. I looked at his face and called out to him, but it wasn’t Valdez looking back at me. There was someone else inside him now, I could just feel it.’

He had shuddered visibly as he had told her that. Chen could sense his remembered fear.

With his permission, Chen had him scanned once more to make sure he was free from infection. To her great relief, he was.

Finally at the end of interview, after more than an hour, Isaacs sat back in his chair and said:

‘So, was I worth it? You chased me a hell of a long way just to talk to me.’

‘Yes. You were,’ she replied. ‘We had to be sure that we hadn’t made a mistake in scanning you, that you hadn’t been infected yourself and compromised us and Captain, you’re the only human we know of to have seen these things and lived to tell about it. Now we know exactly how those things get inside people. What I’m about to tell you is classified, but I think you have a right to know some of the basic details, provided that you keep them to yourself. What you witnessed seems to confirm what we had already deduced; that the Shapers exist as a form of machine-based hive mind. We’re not even sure if they can be considered as individuals - each entity merely exists as a component part within a greater whole. Personalities may only exist as vergences or eddies within the greater consciousness. Some of this we have managed to glean from scouting missions and intelligence, others from captured enemy agents. But so far we’ve only ever seen their agents first hand, the small semi-autonomous creatures that they use to infiltrate our societies by taking over the bodies of living people. We have records of encounters with the upper echelons of their species before, but none that exist as much more than the ravings of men driven beyond the realms of sanity. It’s been theorised that some sort of central controlling figure may exist, though again we can’t be sure. However, despite their great age and sophistication we believe that the Shapers themselves are few in number, which is why they choose to work through others, manipulating them via copies or extensions of themselves embedded within AI constructs.’

‘Well I got a good long look at the bastards, that’s for sure. I guess they were on some sort of recon mission. You know, capture a few of us, cut us up, find out how we worked and how suitable we would be to be used as agents.’

‘Yes, I think you’re right. You had a very lucky escape Captain.’

‘Yeah, though I don’t think I came away entirely unscathed; post traumatic stress disorder and the rest. I never did get any proper treatment for it, and it fucked me up good and proper. Anna found me too difficult to deal with, you know? She just couldn’t cope with me anymore, what I might do to myself. She couldn’t sit around and watch me destroy myself; watch me destroy what we had. But now

I’m better now, better than I was. I think maybe we’re ready to have another go.’

‘You’re going to stay here with her?’

‘Yeah, I think I’ve managed to exorcise a few of my demons. You know actually fighting these things is kind of cathartic for me. You might call it therapy I suppose,’ he said grimly. ‘Well

her little organisation does need good pilots and I am the best one around these parts, if I dare say so. Besides, we can act as your eyes and ears if you like. You might want to have a talk with Anna though, she’s got a better idea of what the Hidden Hand are capable of than I have. I only just got here, with you hot on my heels.’

‘That’s an excellent idea,’ said Chen and activated her desk console. ‘Mr Haldane, could you have Ms Favreaux sent in here please? I’d like to have a talk with her.’

‘Before she gets here: Do you mind me asking what on earth I was carrying in my hold when I got those K’Soth out of the Empire for you?’ said Isaacs.

‘I’m afraid that information is definitely out of bounds, sorry,’ Chen replied.

‘It was a body wasn’t it? Did the K’Soth give you one of their own, infected with one of those things?’

‘Let’s just say that the current troubles in the Empire are the work of outside influences and we’ll leave it at that.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Understand, Captain, that we keep this sort of information quiet for a good reason. Not only does it prevent the enemy from learning what we know of them, but mass panic would no doubt ensue if word of a fifth column operating within known space got out, especially one controlled by a superior and hostile alien threat. You can imagine the sort of paranoia and hysteria that this would generate.’

‘Yes I can,’ Isaacs nodded.

Anna walked into Chen’s office a few moments later and eyed Chen warily.

‘Something I can do for you Admiral?’ she asked.

‘Have a seat Ms Favreaux, please,’ Chen replied, indicating to the empty chair next to Isaacs. Anna sat. ‘There is something, yes,’ she continued. ‘I have a proposition for you.’

‘I see.’

‘I’d like the Hidden Hand to work for me, act as my eyes and ears in this region.’

‘Well, that’s not likely to happen.’ Anna replied frostily. ‘We work for the Nahabe, and they don’t trust you. Come to think of it, neither do I. Last time we met you killed a good number of my friends.’

‘One of these days the Nahabe are going to have to realise that we are all on the same side. I realise that our military may well have been infiltrated, but this ship is secure. I can provide the scan records of everybody aboard if you like, including myself. Names of course would be omitted for reasons of security, but it’s the best I can do.’

‘Please do. But you’re going to have to do better than that.’

‘Very well. In return for your help I can arrange SOC flights to supply you with anything you might need; weapons, spare parts, maybe even a few ships as well as generous payment.’

‘We can do that through some of our contacts,’ Isaacs ventured. ‘Seems like they had a decent smuggling network operating already, and I know a few more people we could use.’

‘However you like. Furthermore, I can guarantee that the Navy will turn a blind eye to any illegal activities you might undertake, within reason. Smuggling, yes. Piracy’s still a no-go though, but I am willing to forget the events of recent days. However you should still consider any ship under Cox’s command to be a threat. So, how about it?’

‘She keeps her word, Anna,’ said Isaacs, ‘and she pays well.’

‘Yeah? Well tell that to all of our people that she shot out of the sky.’

‘Ms Favreux,’ said Chen firmly. ‘I was doing my job! We had no idea what Cox had found down on that moon. I’m sorry for your loss, but when what appears to be a band of pirates starts attacking a military installation and then on top of it jumps in ships in armed with banned AM weapons, I damn well shoot them down! The rules of engagement make it very clear. If your people or, damn it, if the Nahabe had come to us sooner we could have put a stop to this!’

‘She has a point,’ said Isaacs

‘They don’t trust you,’ Anna shot back at Chen.

‘Well they damn well need to trust somebody!’ Chen snapped. ‘Surely they must have diplomatic contacts with our government with people whom they know to be reliable!’

Anna appeared to be weighing the issue in her mind; she gnawed on a fingernail, pensively.

‘I’m supposed to forget the deaths of my friends?’

‘No, but like I said, it was unfortunate. I’m not about to apologise for doing my duty. You’d have done the same in my position, you have to see that. But you can help me to stop more people from dying needlessly by helping SOC to fight these things.’

‘Anna,’ said Isaacs gently. ‘She’s right and you know it. You can’t let personal issues get in the way of this. Fuck the Nahabe, they knew the risks we were running and they did nothing to warn you. The Admiral here is reliable, I can vouch for that.’

Anna threw up her hands in resignation. ‘All right, I’ll need to speak to the others, but I think we can make this work. The truth is I think we’re all getting a little sick of the Nahabe sitting there and doing fuck all whilst they use us as pawns. They aren’t going to like this though,’ said Anna. ‘But, they have a representative aboard our base and he’s

well he’s a progressive, by their standards.’

‘Could you convince him?’

‘Maybe. However I think I can sweeten the deal for you a little. How much were you thinking of paying us?’

‘How does fifty thousand per person, per month sound to you?’

‘Good. But make it a hundred and we’ll spy on Cox for you in Spica, starting from tomorrow.’

‘Done,’ said Chen. ‘Now tell me how you intend to do that from here, given that it’s a hundred light years away.’

‘Yeah, what are you talking about?’ Isaacs asked, obviously puzzled. ‘You don’t have any people up there do you?’

‘Well we can move our base for a start.’

‘Uh-huh. The Nahabe kitted that rock of yours out with jump drives? Neat,’ said Isaacs. ‘But how are you going to jump in without anyone in the Spica system detecting you? That thing’ll make a warp wake bigger than this carrier’s and that system is full of detection arrays. I mean, fuck me, it’s Southern Command’s main naval base. They’ll see you coming from light-years away and we can’t get there by tomorrow.’

‘My dear,’ said Anna, clearly savouring the answer. ‘Jump drives aren’t the only way of moving around the cosmos. The Nahabe have been around much longer than us and they’ve found ways of travelling between the stars that we haven’t.’

‘And?’

‘Well some of them work better than others. One of their more experimental methods is to exploit Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle.’

‘You mean all particles being both a point and a wave?’ said Chen.

‘Yeah, the theory being that the curvatures of the waves are infinite and that the particles themselves exist as a point somewhere on that wave.’

‘Okay

’ said Isaacs. ‘You know I never paid much attention to this stuff in school.’

‘Well essentially the Nahabe have a figured out a way of removing the uncertainty and fixing and then moving the location of the particles in an object by manipulating their wave forms

’ Anna looked at the blank expressions of the others in the room. ‘Don’t ask me how, okay? Anyway, it takes a hell of a long time to actually calculate the jump. The drive has to place everything within the ship in question in total stasis and then record each and every particle and remove the uncertainty from their wave forms and move them to the new coordinates. However once the calculations are done, the jump itself is instantaneous, and there’s no residual radiation.’

‘The computing power required

’ muttered Chen.

‘Is phenomenal, yes. The Nahabe rarely use these drives, preferring instead to rely on more conventional methods. Jumping takes too long to initiate and it’s dangerous to jump further than about a hundred and fifty light years as the calculations become far too complex even for their computers beyond that. However it is a convenient, covert way of moving around, if you have the time.’

‘Well, well

I suppose no amount of money I offer you would get our people a look at this drive.’

Anna gave a short laugh. ‘I’m afraid not even we get a look at it. Only The Speaker is allowed to operate the drive and it interfaces with his sarcophagus, so you can forget it. The truth is, I think it was only ever used to secretly move the base into position. I’ve certainly never experienced the dubious pleasure of jumping with it.’

‘Very well then Ms Favreaux, a hundred thousand per month it is, providing what you claim is true.’

‘I too am a woman of my word, Admiral.’

‘Good. I think we’ll continue to use Mr Isaacs as my point of contact. He knows the drill and the code words to set up meetings. I’ll need names and locations of contacts we can ship supplies to.’

‘We could use Shigs,’ said Isaacs to Anna. ‘He’s pretty solid.’

‘I agree. Okay Admiral Chen, you got yourself a deal. Welcome to the Hidden Hand.’

‘My pleasure,’ Chen replied, and shook Anna’s outstretched hand.

Katherine found Isaacs down the flight deck, squatting beneath the curved belly of his ship. He was giving the Profit Margin a once over with the help of a couple of deck hands and was peering intently at the landing gear as she approached.

‘Hey,’ she said, once she reached him. ‘I just thought I’d come down here to say thank you. I hear from Rekkid that you’ll be staying with the Hidden Hand.’

Isaacs’ grease stained face looked up at her.

‘Yeah that’s right. I think finally I found a purpose other than just looking after myself for a change. Besides, they need someone who can teach them how to fly properly.’

‘So I gather. Well that was one amazing rescue mission you pulled off. Some people might say you were crazy, the way you threw this ship around. Personally I’m just grateful you got us out of there. If Cox had taken the pair of us with him

’

‘Yeah, well quite.’

‘So I guess we owe you one.’

‘Well, feel free to buy me a drink sometime. Besides, I think the information you and the Professor have between you will be payment enough if it means we know how to fight those things a little better.’

‘Well, good luck Captain. Hope to see you around.’

‘Yeah, you too. Hey, it’s a small galaxy, you know?’

An hour later, Isaacs swung the Profit Margin around and watched as the massive carrier came about and then jumped, rippling the stars in its wake.

‘There, I think, goes our best hope,’ he said, and turned to Anna sitting beside him in the cockpit.

‘You could have gone with them, you know,’ she replied.

‘I know. I decided to stick around. You guys need someone to show you how to really fly, and besides, I owe those fucking Shapers an awful lot of payback.’

‘Is that the only reason?’

‘No,’ he said, and smiled at her. ‘I figure you and I deserved a second chance, assuming you’ll have me of course.’

‘Well hell, civilisation’s about to collapse, what’s the worst that can happen? Yes, of course I will,’ she replied and leaned over to kiss him.

‘That’s my girl. Now, shall we go and have a little talk with our Nahabe friend, ask him to show us his little toy?’

‘That’s an excellent idea.’

‘Good,’ said Isaacs, and activated the Profit Margin’s jump drive.

As the Churchill initiated its jump, Chen left the bridge and made her way down through the bowels of the ship into a secure aft weapons locker. The hardened chamber was filled with rows of blast proof crates and canisters, securely stowed on rows of metal shelving. This was where the marines aboard ship kept their ammunition. There was everything here from small arms rounds to armour piercing man portable missiles and large drums of belted ammunition for their gatling guns.

She found Rekkid and Katherine waiting for her there, as a well as two guards posted outside the door, fully armed. Once inside the room she dogged the hatch and locked it from the inside.

‘We’re underway,’ said Chen.

‘Where to?’ Rekkid enquired.

‘I’m returning to Bivian. Mentith has moved the Arkari base known as Black Rock there. All of us need to brief him and you two can collaborate with the science teams there. The base is extremely well equipped, and very secure.’

‘It had better be,’ said Katherine. ‘We can’t risk any more mistakes.’

‘I entirely agree. In the meantime I suggest we store the data here. I’ll code the lock to this room so that only a single key in my possession can open it, there’ll be two guards posted outside at all times and they have been instructed to allow no-one to even attempt to open the door until we reach the facility, including us three.’

‘Sounds like a good plan,’ said Katherine. ‘How long till we reach Bivian?’

‘Nine days. This ship’s pretty fast at maximum jump speed, but Mentith’s going to meet us half way and save us all some time. We can brief him, then I’ll continue to Earth if necessary. Now, I’d like a proper look at this thing before we lock it away.’

‘Be my guest,’ said Rekkid and activated the simulation.

Chapter 28

Though the sarcophagus masked its features, Anna and Isaacs could tell that The Speaker was deeply uneasy. Something indefinable about the way the device moved in the air within the audience chamber, the way its manipulators gesticulated, indicated that it was not happy with their suggestion to move Port Royal to the Spica system. They both carefully explained their plan and the deal that they had made with Chen. The Speaker had listened in silence, swaying gently in the air. It was some time before it finally spoke.

‘I am

uncertain about this idea. My superiors will not like it; it compromises the security of this operation by dealing so openly with the Commonwealth Navy.’

‘As I said before,’ said Isaacs, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice. ‘Admiral Chen is not regular Navy, she’s Special Ops. She’s clean, in other words.’

‘You know it’s the right thing to do,’ said Anna. ‘We’ve talked this over with the others and they’re all in favour. Though

admittedly they took some convincing. The action has moved to Spica, there’s nothing here worth staying to investigate. If Cox has been infected then he’ll make his move there. You have to see that.’

‘I will request that my superiors convene a committee to examine your proposals. But I cannot act alone.’

‘Oh come on! By the time they’ve made any decision it will be too late!’ cried Anna. ‘You know that, and you also know that they’ll make a knee jerk decision and say no, and crawl back into isolation.’

‘Ms Favreaux, I am unused to being addressed in such a disrespectful manner.’

‘Oh you are? Well maybe you deserve it! Can’t you make a decision for yourself? What’s the worst that can happen?’

‘My position

. I will be

subject to disciplinary measures. They are certain to replace me.’

‘For thinking for yourself? For taking the initiative?’

‘It is our way. I am too young to make such decisions. If I was older

’

‘But we have to do this? Can’t you convince them after the act? When they see the intelligence we’ve gathered from Spica, won’t they be pleased?’

‘Maybe. I must confess I believe you both to be correct in your assessment of the situation.’ Something akin to a sigh escaped the sarcophagus. ‘Very well. I shall activate the base’s translation drive system. Perhaps a part of me does yearn to rebel. What can I say? Except that maybe I’ve spent too long around the younger races. Your dynamism is infectious.’

‘Uh, thanks,’ Isaacs replied. ‘I’m just glad that you’ll listen to reason.’

‘Indeed. Wait a moment please. I will initiate the drive spin up sequence.’

As they watched a holographic galactic map appeared in the air and then zoomed in through billions of stars until the Spica system was clearly visible. The Speaker appeared to ponder the image, manipulating the diagrammatical representation of the various bodies and their orbits until it selected a point far out in the system’s Kuiper belt. A flashing icon, appended with Nahabe script appeared. Then other menus appeared, overlaying the image. Shifting colours mingled with the alien characters and icons. A barely imperceptible humming began somewhere in the depths of Port Royal. An asexual, mechanical voice began to intone a warning in the Nahabe language, then repeated it in English and several other human and alien languages.

‘Translation sequence initiated. Stasis will commence in two minutes fourteen seconds. Translation will commence in forty six minutes eleven seconds.’

The humming had built steadily as The Speaker consulted additional information from the holographic display. It activated a few more flashing icons.

‘You may experience a little disorientation and physical discomfort,’ said The Speaker. ‘I can’t say I enjoy using this device at all. Quite how it affects humans I couldn’t say.’

‘I have a question,’ said Isaacs. ‘If this device moves all of the particles within the base by freezing them in place and then moving them, how does the drive move itself?’

‘It doesn’t,’ said Anna. ‘This is a one shot deal. The drive components will remain behind and will have to follow on via conventional means.’

‘So we’ll be stuck in Spica.’

‘Yes.’

‘Ah

’

Isaacs and Anna could now feel the deck vibrate beneath their feet as the mysterious engines inside Port Royal had now spun up to full power. The great devices, massive concentric rings of field generators, now whirled at blinding speed, deep within the core of the rock. Surrounding these, massed banks of hyperdimensional supercomputers were booted up and standing ready.

‘Stasis will commence in ten seconds,’ intoned the disembodied voice once more. ‘Please stand by.’

They waited nervously. Then time stopped.

The field generators within Port Royal enveloped the entire base, save for themselves and the drive mechanism, in a field of total stasis. Time ceased to flow within this isolated bubble. People stood frozen in place. In the hydroponic gardens, water hung in frozen falls, birds suspended in mid wing-beat were caught in the act of flying through air whose very molecules had ceased to eddy, molecules whose subatomic components were now frozen in place too, in definite fixed positions.

With the uncertainty principle suspended, the vast array of computers within the depths of Port Royal began to catalogue the positions of the countless trillions of particles that made up the base and its entire contents, down to the last nut and bolt, particle of dust, blade of grass, stray hair and ruffled feather, drop of water and lungful of air. For three quarters of an hour the base was frozen in time, fixed with absolute precision, a trillion, trillion probability curves determined and fixed. Then with one deft move those precise positions were suddenly and simultaneously altered. Port Royal vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving the perfect black body sphere of the translation drive floating free amid the scattered rocks.

Isaacs felt a sudden coldness, then dizziness and the urge to vomit. He staggered slightly and saw Anna turn pale. The humming had ceased.

‘Was that it?’ he said. ‘Did it work?’

‘Yes. The jump was successful,’ The Speaker replied. ‘My people will retrieve the core. Welcome to the Spica system.’

The Spica system was huge. Two hundred and sixty light years from Earth, an elliptical blue-white star lay at the centre of the system, locked in a violent whirling dance with its smaller companion that orbited the parent every four days. Far out, beyond the violent gravitational eddies caused by this deadly embrace, a system of thirty major planets orbited the binary in a more stately fashion. Of these thirty, nineteen were gas giants, each with their own family of moons, resulting in a system that contained, excluding asteroids and comets, around three hundred catalogued bodies. The sheer amount of real estate in the system had made it into an industrial powerhouse and a trading nexus in this part of the Commonwealth. Gas and mineral mining flourished in the system’s wealth of natural resources and manufacturing industries grew up alongside to take advantage of the local abundance as well as supporting the largest shipyards outside the Solar System. It was for these reasons that the Navy had made Spica the location of its main base in the southern Commonwealth, a gigantic floating harbour fortress in orbit around the third planet, a water world designated Atlantis, after the primitive flooded ruins that dotted its now sterile shallow seas. Spica’s location placed it near the centre of the sector, and its vital economic resources had to be protected. In addition, the myriad of worlds within the system made it an ideal location for the training of marines, who could be subjected to simulated combat on their varied terrains, from the inner asteroid ring about the stars, to the desert conditions of the second planet, to the island archipelagos of the sixth planet’s second moon. The entire inner system was given over to the military, where the Commonwealth’s best troops could train away from prying eyes. The lack of any indigenous life anywhere in the system also made it an ideal testing ground for new and experimental weapon systems and tactics.

Further out, the vast mining and manufacturing operations swarmed with civilian traffic under the watchful eyes of the military’s monitoring arrays stationed in orbit between the fifth and sixth planet, observing and recording all who passed beneath their gaze.

They failed to notice the extra body that had suddenly appeared far out in the system’s Kuiper belt amid the myriad of other objects that hung at the furthest reaches of Spica’s gravity well.

In front of The Speaker, the projected orrery of the system updated itself to incorporate the real time data now pouring into the creature’s suit from the passive sensors aboard Port Royal. A bright galaxy of thousands of lurid markers showed the positions of ships entering, leaving and traversing the system.

‘You ever been here before Cal?’ said Anna.

‘Once or twice,’ he replied. ‘Too many fucking cops around for my taste. If there’s one things puts a cramp on our kind of business, it’s too much surveillance.’

‘Yeah, looks like we’ll have to careful. When do Cox’s fleet arrive?’

‘Another ten days, by your reckoning’ said The Speaker. ‘Plenty of time for our people to start going about their business.’

‘The usual drill?’ said Anna.

‘Yes, disperse in ones and twos so as not to arouse suspicions’

‘Got it, I’ll send ships to get in touch with our fences. We were thinking of using Shigeru Toyama at the Labyrinth as a fence for any stuff from Chen.’

‘I’m not about to tell you your business,’ said The Speaker. ‘Though it seems a little out of the way.’

‘Shigs himself will just coordinate the supply runs from there. We’ll keep changing the handover points once we’ve established our contacts. In the meantime we need data on this system as accurate as that that we had for Hadar, in case we need to pull the same evasion tricks again.’

‘Consider it done,’ said The Speaker. ‘I will devote our sensors to the task.’

‘Thank you for doing this,’ said Anna. ‘I know what it might cost you.’

‘Do you?’ The Speaker replied wearily. ‘Do you really?’ It began to busy itself with the base’s systems.

‘Come on,’ said Isaacs. ‘I don’t know about you Anna, but I could sure use a drink right now.’

‘We need to start getting our people out into the system.’

‘Yeah well

when the tech crews have finished changing the serial i.d. numbers on our ships, why don’t you and I take a hop over to one of the orbitals in this system and find a nice quiet bar and, you know, do a bit of surveillance?’

She gave him a look. ‘All right, fine. I was planning on having a look around.’

‘Maybe we could see if they have any nice cheap hotels?’

‘One step at a time, hotshot.’

Chapter 29

The Shaper creature had now spread itself throughout the Arkari data hyper-sphere. It had scattered shards of itself throughout the myriad of nodes and interstices undetected as it subsumed the more primitive systems. It was laughably easy. Such things were mere child’s play to the creature. Now it sifted the flows of data as they passed through it, scrutinising the discrete packets of information. Much of it was of little use, the mundane communications sent between private individuals, conversations in a multitude of media, love letters, idle chit chat, news and trivia, holographic images of people it cared nothing for as the billions of Arkari citizens went about their daily existences, oblivious to its prying electronic eyes as they laid their lives open to it.

Amongst this avalanche of information the creature occasionally found morsels that it found more interesting: encrypted traffic, secrets. Hidden amongst the plaintext were things that both senders and receivers intended to remain confidential. The Arkari had moved beyond a scarcity based existence and had no need for commerce; hence such traffic could only come from military and government sources. This was what it wanted.

The encryption and deception methods were not difficult for it to break given the computing power available to it. It was simply a matter of time and brute force processing, combined with a degree of stealth if its presence were to remain undetected to both senders and recipients.

Within a matter of weeks the creature had laid bare the entirety of the Arkari’s military command and control systems. It knew everything; fleet deployments, force levels, logistical information, duty rosters, reconnaissance data about a myriad of species including its own - which it found laughably sketchy and riddled with inaccuracies – research and development projects and the personnel files of the millions who served in the Arkari Navy. All of this it dutifully relayed back to its masters.

But it was not done yet. It now turned its attentions to the government of the Arkari Meritocracy itself and the vast torrents of information that ordered their civilisation. Much of it was of little interest, but amidst all of this it found data so heavily encrypted that even its mind was tested. Data so heavily guarded that its level of protection made it stand out from the swarm.

It was not uncommon for the Arkari to make use of computerised implants or other devices that linked their brains directly to machines. Most private citizens used them daily to talk to one another, attend concerts in virtual spaces, collaborate on works of art or other personal creative projects or simply for friends on different worlds to stay in touch. The military made use of special hardened versions of such devices to communicate with their ships and weapons, relaying tactical and targeting data directly into their minds and allowing star-ship crews to act as one coordinated instrument. But members of the government as well as the vast bureaucracy that underpinned it also used them. It allowed meetings to be chaired across hundreds of light years by individuals sitting together within virtual environments, research to be conducted, efforts to be pooled and discussions to be held with across the vastness of the Sphere. Most importantly of all it allowed the elected members of their government to sit in session together, no matter what their location, within a perfect virtual recreation of the Meritarch Council Chamber on Keros.

All of this was now laid bare to the Shaper creature. With the form of the data and the nature of its encryption now available to it, it began to construct its own tools and prepared to insert them into the system.

It was cautious at first. The Arkari may be primitive by its standards, but they were not stupid, and it would not let its arrogance lead it to be careless. It tried a few sample packets at first, letting them slide into the system unnoticed. Then it tried a few simple messages: innocuous things that would go unnoticed inside the minds of those who received them. It observed its results and recorded them and then set about crafting a virus.

Chapter 30

The Churchill emerged from its jump into the wan illumination of a white dwarf star some twenty AUs distant that lay on the border between the Arkari Sphere and the Commonwealth. True to Chen’s word, it was almost nine days since the Churchill had left the Hadar system, and the ship had crossed the intervening distance at a blistering pace.

The Shining Glory was waiting for them. Mentith’s personal destroyer appeared ghostlike in the pale light, its great wings lazily sculling the void as it held station, dwarfing the Commonwealth carrier that was barely a tenth of its size. The Churchill came to a halt a kilometre off the bow of the larger craft and launched a small shuttle from its forward bay. The shuttle crossed the distance to the Arkari vessel in a matter of moments; the skin of the destroyer flowing open to allow the tiny ship admittance.

Katherine stepped off the shuttle’s boarding ramp onto the smooth, seamless, pale surface of the cavernous landing bay. The rib vaulted roof arched overhead, brilliantly lit and smoothly formed. The bay stretched back inside the vessel’s belly for over five kilometres. Here was where the ship’s complement of fighters, bombers, shuttles and assault craft roosted like huge and terrible birds of prey, their curved, mercury-like skins reflecting the brilliant lights. Each was cradled within a mass of tendril like growths; silver power and data conduits that sprang in clumps from the ceiling and walls like the waving fronds of sea anemones and plugged into various ports on the surfaces of the ships.

It was not the first time she had been aboard an Arkari vessel, but the organic strangeness of their alien technology was a little unsettling. She couldn’t help but feel as though she had stepped out into the belly of some vast beast and some animal instinct in her hindbrain was trying to tell her that the serried ranks of predatory vessels were scrutinising her every movement, like hawks watching the progress of a mouse beneath them.

‘Sometimes, I forget just where you came from Rekkid,’ she said softly.

‘Hmm well I didn’t come from a place like this,’ he replied. ‘The truth of it is, even other Arkari find our military a little unsettling. Makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes, it does.’

‘Makes my crest itch terribly. Not a good sign. Part of me knows that we’re being watched by those things over there.’ He nodded towards the roosting fighters.

‘Would that we had your technology to build them ourselves,’ said Chen. ‘I’d give my right arm for a fleet of ships like those.’

Unlike the two archaeologists, Chen seemed less perturbed by the alien power of their surroundings. She shifted impatiently from foot to foot on the deck and eyed the docking bay and its contents.

‘You never see as many people on these ships as on our vessels,’ she remarked. ‘I guess these ships look after themselves.’ She looked at Rekkid as if seeking an answer. He merely shrugged.

A crewman clad in the black, high collared uniform of the Arkari Navy now approached from a side entrance. She walked smartly up to Chen and saluted in the human manner as a mark of respect.

‘My apologies for your wait, Admiral,’ she said crisply in slightly accented English. ‘The War Marshal is anxious to speak with the three of you. If you would follow me?’

They were taken speedily via the ship’s internal network of transport arteries to the bow section where Mentith waited for them in a spacious conference chamber that looked out over the ship’s tapering nose via a wide curving window. The chamber’s walls were, like all within the vessel, organically curved and seamless. The room was dominated by a large oval table of some dark reflective rock, polished to a mirror-like sheen. Behind it sat Mentith, his long, seven-fingered hands steepled in front of him, and a pensive look upon his aged features. On the desk itself, the simulacrum of a cat strutted amid a scatter of papers and datapads. The creature was formed from the same material as the ship’s hull; its shimmering fur appeared as though fashioned from spun silver. As the three figures entered the room it turned to look at them with its penetrating black eyes.

‘Ah, Admiral Chen, Professor Cor, Doctor O’Reilly, welcome aboard,’ said Mentith. ‘I’ve been anxious to speak with you all ever since I received your coded transmission from the Churchill. I have alerted Fleet Admiral Haines, he is, at this moment returning to Earth with the Abraham Lincoln’s battle group. I gather that further fleet redeployments will be made in due course.’

‘All of our own fleet assets stand at the highest state of readiness,’ said the cat. ‘We anticipate that the enemy may move against us soon. I am currently running a number of battle simulations based upon our intelligence data regarding the enemy’s capabilities. However, I am able to devote a small portion of my processing power to speak with you. The information you provided and my assessment of what is said will be passed directly onto my comrades.’

‘What the hell is that thing?’ said Katherine. ‘I never saw it aboard last time.’ She felt a chill of fear as the cat turned its blank gaze upon her.

‘No, you did not encounter me during your previous stay aboard,’ said the cat. ‘The existence of truly sentient artificial intelligences amongst the Arkari military is a well kept secret, and rightly so, since there are many amongst the galaxy - even our own people - who would fear us, should they knew of us. I am merely the representative of the ship, a spokesman if you will. Many people find it easier to speak to another person or creature rather than shouting at blank walls. I can change my form if you wish. This nano-alloy is infinitely malleable. However I chose this form as I thought you might find it pleasing.’

‘It’ll do,’ said Katherine, warily. ‘I suppose all ships need a ship’s cat.’

‘As you say, and I assure you, I am not a dumb machine. Though loyal to the Arkari, I do not follow commands blindly.’

Its emotionless voice and the way it appeared to be scrutinising her only served to unsettle Katherine further. She wondered if those coldly intelligent eyes were what they appeared to be, whether or not they contained sophisticated imaging devices or whether they were merely present to convey expression and make the creature look like a cat. Nevertheless, those intelligent orbs revealed in their gaze a hint of the vast power of the warship. The ship was right; people should fear it.

‘Well, well,’ said Rekkid. ‘You know I always wondered if the rumours were true about our military using sentient machines. I suppose the conspiracy theorists are correct, sometimes.’

‘They are indeed,’ said Mentith. ‘You will of course reveal this knowledge to no-one. Regard it as an exceptional privilege. Few outside the military have spoken directly with our artificial citizens.’

Rekkid felt the implacable gaze of the cat creature boring into him and suppressed a shudder.

‘Now perhaps if you could elaborate on what has transpired in the Hadar system,’ said Mentith briskly.

‘Very well sir,’ Chen replied. ‘Our report may take some time.’

Mentith and the ship listened intently as Chen, Katherine and Rekkid took it in turns to describe what the three of them had witnessed. They presented the evidence that they themselves had gathered and the vast dossier gathered by the Hidden Hand and the Nahabe concerning Admiral Cox’s operations on the moon of Rhyolite, the brief disappearance of Centrepoint Station and Cox’s entire command, the trail of clues leading back to Admiral Morgan from both the Nahabe’s own intelligence network and the assassination of the Sirius Syndicate boss known as Bennett. They also assured Mentith that Isaacs was clean of any Shaper taint, and told him of the freelancer’s bravery, the assistance he had rendered and the information he had provided. Finally, Rekkid and Katherine showed off the galactic map that Rekkid had unearthed in the data wafers taken from Bivian Sun Sphere.

When they had finished, Mentith looked a shade paler. He massaged his scalp either side of his head crest with both hands as he digested the information that had just given to him.

‘So, it’s possible that an entire fleet of Commonwealth vessels has been subverted by the Shapers, including one of your Admirals, and that one of the Joint Chiefs of Staff has been a Shaper agent for who knows how long?’

‘Yes,’ Chen replied. ‘As I mentioned in my report, I sent warnings to Southern Fleet Command to the effect that they should prevent any ship from Cox’s armada from docking, especially that Shaper vessel that they’re towing.’

‘You also made it clear to me in your emergency coded broadcast. Admiral Chen, your warnings were disregarded. Our SOC sources within Southern Fleet Command have revealed that an order to proceed with the dry-docking of the Shaper vessel in Spica came from Admiral Morgan seven days ago. On the basis of that it is safe to assume that everything you have told me is correct.’

‘Oh dear God,’ said Katherine. ‘If that thing

’

‘War Marshal, I must be allowed to brief Admiral Haines,’ said Chen. ‘The potential consequences of this action are appalling. At any one time there are thousands of personnel and hundreds of ships in the vicinity of Southern Fleet Command. We could be facing a disastrous situation.’

‘Yes you must. Admiral Chen you must return to Earth immediately. The Commonwealth government is in meltdown amid these allegations made against the administration. Many of the cabinet have either been arrested or are under suspicion and Parliament is barely functioning as an effective body amid the political infighting. Legislation has virtually ground to a halt. In the event of a crisis I’m not sure that there’s anyone capable of responding in a timely and decisive fashion. Haines has already discussed with me the possibility of ignoring the chain of command and declaring martial law in the event of an attack. Professor, Doctor, it would be of immense help to us all if you could resume your work on the data wafers. We have moved one of our asteroid bases to the Bivian Sphere in order to make use of its facilities and I’m sure your work will be of great use to us if we can restore the missing files that accompany the simulation that you found.’

‘Thank you War Marshal,’ said Rekkid. ‘Perhaps you’ll refrain from disturbing us this time, given that the situation is now rather more pressing than before?’

‘Perhaps I’ll also overlook the fact that you absconded with classified materials? However, I believe I am in your debt for your diligent work, nonetheless. Meanwhile, I will convene with my superiors and our civilian government and brief them of the situation. Hopefully we’ll be able to get some intelligence from your Hidden Hand friends about the situation in Spica.’

‘I have already ordered my comms officer to begin distributing the necessary coded orders to our contacts sir,’ Chen replied. ‘Here seemed as good a place as any to transmit from, given our relatively remote location. We’ll be routing deliveries through the Labyrinth trading outpost. The Hidden Hand have many friends there.’

‘Good,’ said Mentith. ‘Now do you have anything to add?’ he said, turning to the cat, which had remained silent throughout the exchange.

‘Yes,’ said the ship’s cat. ‘I would very much like to examine the computer model that Professor Cor uncovered for myself. Perhaps if I apply my considerable computing power to it, I might uncover more of its secrets, particularly if I can correlate its data against current star maps of our galaxy.’

‘Go ahead,’ said Rekkid, proffering his computer. ‘Just as long as you keep it safe.’

‘I assure you that I will,’ said the ship’s cat. ‘My mind can be rendered more secure than your own. I can even protect things from myself if need be.’

‘Well that’s reassuring, I suppose’ Rekkid replied as he placed the appliance in front of the cat. Casually, it held up one paw to the machine and extruded its digits to a series of worm-like questing tendrils which sought out the tiny ports on the side of the device. A second passed then the cat retracted its paw, the toes already returning to their original shape.

‘Done,’ said the ship’s cat. ‘I will begin analysing the data.’

The creature yawned lazily and then looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Interesting,’ it said.

‘What is?’ said Rekkid.

‘I have sorted the catalogue of star systems. Out of the hundred billion or so listed systems present in the main body of the galaxy at that time there are a number that are still in existence today; this one for example, as well as several billion others. Of these however, two are highlighted as being of special significance. The first is the system known today as Maranos, whose stellar sequence was - as we know - tampered with, and is the home of the wormhole portal discovered by yourselves. The second is the Progenitor home system. There is a detailed map of the bodies in the system as well as an impressive Dyson sphere but documentary evidence is not forthcoming. There are links to missing files and some manner of encryption/decryption mechanism, but nothing else. The system is one listed in our stellar cartography archives, though it merely has a serial number, and lies in the outer edges of the galactic core, approximately twenty five thousand light years due west of the Maelstrom.’

‘No doubt those files lie somewhere within the pile of data wafers we found,’ said Katherine.’

‘That would be my own hypothesis, yes,’ said the ship’s cat. ‘I must say, I am rather curious to establish why this system was so significant and yet why the information about it appears to be so closely guarded. It seems somewhat paradoxical that they should tell us the location of their home-world, but tell us nothing more about it.’ Its ears twitched as if irritated.

‘All the more reason for us to get back to work as soon as possible,’ said Katherine. ‘Once we’ve extracted the data from those things we can start sifting it for useful titbits such as this.’

‘Anything you uncover could be useful,’ said Mentith. ‘Somebody wanted us to find this data, of that I am certain. I want to be begin assimilating this new information about the war that the Progenitors lost against the Shapers into your combat simulations,’ he said the ship’s cat. ‘Run scenarios based upon it and then try and analyse the tactics and methods that the Shapers used.’

‘Of course War Marshal,’ said the cat. ‘I will of course attempt to fight the next war and avoid fighting the last.’

‘Very good. Now, we must get underway at once. Admiral, you should return to the Churchill and depart without further delay. I will of course take time to digest the information you have provided me en route back to the Black Rock. Good work Admiral Chen. It seems that our Captain Isaacs proved to be far more useful than we anticipated.’

‘I have one question,’ said Katherine.

‘Of course,’ said Mentith.

‘Did you know that something was going on in Hadar when you sent us there?’

‘Admiral Haines had suspicions that some form of skull-duggery was taking place, yes. He was being kept out of the loop on what was going on down there and the scuttlebutt among the fleet had thrown up a number of lurid stories that pointed to some unknown alien technology that was not being responsibly dealt with. However, the true nature of Cox’s operation was not known to us. Haines merely resented the obfuscation and what he suspected was Cox’s professional rivalry taking precedence over his duty to his men, but I had a bad feeling about the whole thing and I knew that you two would be able to get to the bottom of it. You have my thanks for a job well done, and for risking yourselves in the process.’

‘If you had known though…’ she pressed.

‘Then I would have sent a fleet of warships to destroy that thing and damn the diplomatic consequences!’

‘Good,’ she replied. ‘I think I’d have done the same.’

‘I’m sure you would,’ Mentith replied.

Good grief, she thought, was she actually starting to like Mentith? It wasn’t often she agreed with the old Arkari and given that he was a military leader from an alien civilisation and she a human academic she wasn’t surprised that they didn’t often see eye to eye - their backgrounds and personalities could hardly be more different. But he seemed to be being a little more honest and open with them now. The fact that he had thanked them was unprecedented. His uneasy manner around her and Rekkid from the start had been no secret. Mentith seemed to regard them as a necessary evil and only grudgingly acknowledged their value, especially since her colleague appeared to take sadistic delight in winding up the old warhorse. Had they now earned a measure of his respect?

‘I’ll take my leave of you, if I may,’ said Chen. ‘Professor, Doctor, yet again we seem to have met under less than ideal circumstances. I wish you luck with your studies and I have no doubt that our paths will cross in the future.’

‘Preferably with no-one trying to kill us this time,’ said Katherine.

Chen gave a brief, wry chuckle. ‘Let’s hope so, until then.’ She saluted Mentith and then left, the sound of her boots receding down the corridor outside.

‘Now,’ said Mentith. ‘It should take us another week, by your reckoning, to reach the Dyson sphere. In the meantime we have quarters prepared for you and you have free run of any areas within the ship that the ship will permit you to enter. Ship, perhaps if you’d like to show our guests where they will be staying?’

‘Naturally,’ said the ship’s cat. ‘Follow me, please.’

The ship’s cat trotted ahead of them, tail aloft, as it led them through the quiet interior of the ship. Uniformed Arkari crew members passed them infrequently, most of whom gave the cat a nod of acknowledgment. The sheer amount of space aboard the Shining Glory, in comparison to the cramped, bustling interiors of Commonwealth warships, was staggering. Broad corridors of curving, white, seamless composite threaded their way between spacious compartments where a scattering of crew were to be seen working and studying. There was also provision for those off duty; entertainment and private study facilities were dotted throughout the ship as well as a number of communal areas. In addition, a sizeable park containing flora from Keros ran for several hundred metres down a dorsal compartment of the ship, the nano-composite ceiling turned into a giant view-screen that allowed the stars to be seen through it.

The cat took them to a suite that overlooked one end of the park through a large oval window set into one wall of the main lounge area. Their belongings had already been transferred from the Churchill and sat in a neat pile in the centre of the room which was, for the moment, devoid of furniture.

‘I hope you enjoy your stay with us,’ said the cat. ‘If there’s anything else you need.’

‘We’ll shout at the wall, yes I know,’ said Rekkid.

‘Quite so,’ the cat replied, amused. ‘We’ll be getting underway shortly, please feel free to explore. I’ll keep you out of off-limit areas.’

‘We know,’ said Katherine. ‘Do you have to watch us all the time?’

‘I don’t and I shan’t. Privacy is sacrosanct after all, however should you mistakenly attempt to enter somewhere where your presence is not permitted my systems will be alerted and bar your way. No offence intended.’

‘None taken.’

‘If that is all, I shall leave you be,’ said the creature and padded from the room.

Rekkid walked over to a wall panel and pressed his fingers against it. Instantly the floor extruded itself into a set of seats and tables as well as a broad desk.

‘Hmm, just a moment,’ said Rekkid and adjusted the settings. The seats were replaced with a long sofa as the material reshaped itself. The height of the desk adjusted slightly and Rekkid moved it in front of the window. ‘There, that’s better. More like home,’ he said with satisfaction.

Katherine sat down on one end of the sofa, noting that the hard flooring material had formed itself into comfortable upholstery.

‘But of course this is home, isn’t it?’ she said to Rekkid.

‘Hmm, I suppose. I’ve spent so long away it doesn’t really feel like it, to be honest. It’s too bloody quiet for a start.’

‘How long has it been now, since you came to live in the Commonwealth?’

Rekkid sighed thoughtfully and sat alongside her.

‘Let me think

You know I first came to Earth as part of the cultural exchange program following first contact. That was in what, 2215?’

‘Long before my time Rekkid, but yes, that sounds about right.’

‘I was wet behind the ears after my first year of teaching, but my thesis had caught the eye of a few notables in our academic community so they sent me along with Miniack Gren from the Keros Etymology Institute. We stayed on Earth for six months at Cambridge, and I suppose I fell in love with the place then. I had enough time to travel around during the rather relaxed schedule and I think it was

it was that humanity seemed far more vibrant than anything I had seen back home. I saw more variety in terms of cultures and people on that single planet than I had in all my years of living among my own people. Humans seemed

more alive I suppose. No doubt we were like that once, a very long time ago, but after so many millennia our diverse cultures got kind of blended together into one monoculture. We’ve become rather bland and staid if you ask me. We are complacent in what we imagine to be perfection.’

‘You mean you find your own people boring?’

‘In a word: yes. It came to me, I remember, I was standing in the nave of Notre Dame, a few weeks after I first arrived. In terms of actual dates that place was young by our standards, eight hundred years old or so, not even as old as an Arkari lifespan, but even so I felt the weight of history pressing down on me. So much had happened in that place, so many lives had passed beneath that vaulted ceiling and so much had changed in the world outside since it was built. That place had been built by hand by people whose view of the world had extended little further than the next town and a series of curious superstitions about the workings of the universe and yet their ancestors were now taking their first steps out into the galaxy. I think I knew then that if I wanted to be at the heart of things - where the real progress and the really interesting research and thinking would take place - that I should move to Earth. Fortunately I was lucky enough to be invited.’

Rekkid got up, walked to the wall and brushed his hand over the surface. A series of inlaid controls appeared under his fingers. His pressed them methodically and the wall transformed itself into a large screen, displaying the view over the bows of the ship. The Churchill could be seen turning away from the Arkari vessel and preparing to jump.

‘So after all this time amongst us humans do you feel more human or Arkari?’

‘Hmm, well humans tend to notice the Arkari in me, which admittedly is pretty obvious just by looking at me. Arkari on the other hand tend to notice the human traits I’ve picked up. We have a certain

reserve I think you’d call it, a certain formality in dealing with others that I think I’ve lost over the years. So yes I have ‘gone native’ I suppose, though Earth, and England in particular, have become my home. How about you, do you miss it, do you miss Earth?’

‘Sometimes, yes. I suppose it’s the little things really. The English landscape, the taste of certain foods I can’t get elsewhere, or if I can they don’t taste quite right, the colour of the sunlight, the smell of grass in summer. You know, when I was a little girl, growing up in Manchester I used to think that it was boring. I used to dream of running off to the new colonies and living with the aliens that I occasionally saw on the streets at home. But yes I do get a little homesick at times, now I do spend so much time out here. I mean, I haven’t been back since before the war, since I left for Maranos, and I haven’t seen my family for even longer than that, barely been in touch even. I’ve just been so busy that I never realised where the time went. I suppose what with everything that’s going on back home I ought to check in with them. I don’t know how long it might be until I can see them again in person.’

‘Yes, I think that would be a good idea if you get the chance,’ Rekkid replied, the hint of a frown crossing his alien features. ‘I’m afraid I think that’s a big ‘if’ though.’

The Churchill was preparing to leave. As they watched, it angled itself towards a faint yellow star and jumped, the distortion effect created by the vessel’s drives twisting the stars out of all recognition before they snapped back into place. Chen was on her way back to the Solar System.

Chapter 31

Isaacs rolled over in the hotel bed. Still half asleep, he sensed the absence of Anna, though the sound of running water from the small bathroom gave away her location. She had switched on the screen in the corner of the room and pulled back the curtains to reveal the curved interior landscape of Venice High Orbital. Obviously she was trying to rouse him from sleep in a less than subtle manner after their night’s reconnaissance of the spaceport bars during which he had tried a little too hard to blend in. The numb, fuzzy feeling of a not quite full-blown hangover made his process of waking up akin to climbing out of a metaphorical pit, and he scrunched up his eyes against the glare from the plasma light tube outside. Groggily, he propped himself on the pillows and peered at the screen.

The Hidden Hand had been in the Spica system for a fortnight now, moving between the various space ports and stations, spending a few days in each and trying to worm their way into the local community of pilots and traders that frequented the system. Local gossip would be a good way of getting a feel for what was going on, or so they had hoped. Cal and Anna were operating under false I.Ds both for themselves and the ship they were using, Anna’s yacht, the Jilted Lover. So far, their efforts had drawn a blank. Almost everyone knew that something was going on at Southern Fleet Command due to the unusual amount of military traffic in the system outside of the usual designated volumes off limits to civilians. Since the large armada of warships had arrived a week ago and docked at Command Headquarters, ships were being stopped and boarded far more than was usual and port security had been stepped up system wide. It was becoming difficult for some traders, those who dealt in the more esoteric items, to operate within Spica. Many were either leaving the system or keeping a low profile until what they hoped was a temporary crackdown was relaxed. Either way, there was plenty of grumbling amid the freelancer community, but no-one knew precisely what the underlying reason was or what was going on in the inner system. No-one had gotten close enough to take a surreptitious look, as the military had even suspended flights by the usual civilian cargo contractors that they made use of, instead using their own cargo transports to haul goods from Spica’s principle ports into the inner system. However, during the past few days a number of military vessels had arrived from elsewhere, mostly high speed passenger vessels with armed escorts that could only mean the arrival of high ranking officers or government officials. It all made Isaacs very uneasy.

Anna emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, towelling her black hair dry. Isaacs took a moment to admire her naked body. He had to admit, she kept herself in pretty good shape. At least these past couple of weeks had given the pair of them some time to themselves. Just being with her; he felt like a missing piece of him had been slotted back into place. He felt like a whole person once more. They had soon slipped back into old habits, but this time it was much better than before, just like when they’d first met.

She eyed him through a tangle of damp hair.

‘You’re awake at last then,’ she said. ‘Thought I was going to have to throw a bucket of water over you to get you to wake up.’

‘Yeah, well I think I had one more drink than I intended last night.’

‘Oh, because I had to force you to get another one.’

‘Well we got talking to those guys and we all seemed to be getting on so well.’

‘Only because the little one fancied me.’

‘Huh, really?’

‘Yeah. You know he’d have been just the right size to have on my ship. He’d take up less room under the console. Handy for those long flights.’

‘Oh really?’ He sprang up from the covers and made a grab for her as she roared with laughter. ‘Didn’t know you were into dwarves.’

‘Ah, I see we’re awake now,’ she grinned. ‘Come on, get washed and dressed. I arranged to meet with the harbourmaster of this place last night, whilst you were absorbing the local colour. He said he had something interesting to show us.’

‘Well I’ve got something interesting to show you,’ he responded with a playful leer and made another attempt to grab her.

‘Hmm, yes well I’ve seen it many times before thank you. Now get in that shower, you stink of booze.’

Isaacs stood in the shower and felt the jets of hot water wash away some of the previous night’s after-effects. He rubbed his eyes free of sleep and reached for the bottle of shampoo.

‘Cal!’ He heard Anna calling him from the bedroom. ‘Cal, you’d better come and see this.’

What did she want? Grumbling to himself he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, then dripping wet he waddled back into the bedroom.

‘What is it? I only just got into the shower you know,’ he asked testily.

‘See for yourself,’ she said and pointed at the screen.

Isaacs looked and saw a shot taken from inside a vast dry dock, presumably from inside the fortress harbour of Southern Fleet Command. In the foreground stood a raised dais with a lectern, upon which stood Admiral Morgan of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and seated next to him, Admiral Cox. Both men were dressed in freshly pressed, dress uniforms. In front of them, ranks of temporary seating held a large number of senior figures from the Navy, Army and Marine Corp, as a well as a number of suited figures some of whom Isaacs recognised as governors and senators from a variety of systems across this part of space. The governor of the Spica system, Anton Salvatore, sat in the front row. Behind them, a gaggle of journalists and broadcast crews jostled for position to get the best view of the dais, behind which the vast space of the dock lay shrouded in darkness.

‘Admiral Morgan is about to speak,’ said the commentator, stating the obvious as Morgan’s tall, muscular form approached the lectern. The Vice Admiral stroked his greying beard thoughtfully for a moment and consulted a datapad, and then he began to address the audience.

‘I speak to you now at a time of great crisis. Our civilian government, elected by all humanity to represent us, has shown itself unfit to govern. Riven by corruption, dishonesty and the ambitions of self seeking plutocrats it has betrayed our trust and left our entire civilisation vulnerable whilst concealing from us the very dangers that face us. As the sworn protectors of all humanity and our allies, it is our duty to act where our government is incapable or unwilling to do so.

For several years now, we have known of a growing alien menace beyond our borders, one that presents a far more serious threat that the K’Soth Empire ever did. Known as ‘The Shapers’, they are an ancient and terrible race of creatures that seek to supplant or enslave all life. Their technology is thousands of millennia more advanced than our own, their servants numberless and their minds implacable. For aeons they have lurked on their worlds close to the galactic core and now they move against us.

Our intelligence has managed to glean some clues as to their tactics. We know that the Shapers seek to destabilise those societies that they plan to enslave before direct confrontation takes place, in order to weaken their victims before they strike. They achieve this via covert techniques whereby the minds and bodies of persons in key positions are taken over by parasitic organisms and bent to their will. It is also our assessment that this has occurred within the Commonwealth already, that our government’s corruption, inaction and counterproductive policies are the result of such alien influences. I have compiled a dossier of all the intelligence that we have regarding the Shapers as well as a list of politicians and military personnel that we believe have been supplanted. This includes the President, numerous members of the cabinet, Fleet Admiral Haines and a number of other leading military figures from all branches of the services including Special Operations Command and the intelligence community.’

There were gasps of disbelief from the audience and some shaking of heads.

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Isaacs, turning to Anna. ‘He’s trying to turn the whole thing around against us. There’ll be chaos if anyone believes him.’

‘I realise that this is hard to believe,’ said Morgan above the clamour of voices. ‘I found it hard to accept it myself, however I assure you that it is the truth, however hard we may find it to stomach. Were it not for the evidence obtained by my esteemed colleague Admiral Cox and his team of engineers and scientists including the eminent archaeologist Dr Charles Reynaud, I too would remain unconvinced. Cox and his team have successfully recovered a crashed Shaper vessel from a moon in the Hadar system and from its memory banks we have gained important intelligence data as to their intentions and strategy. Furthermore, we hope to examine its advanced technology here in Spica and use it to our own advantage. I give you now, the face of our new enemy.’

With that, the lights in the dock came up to full, revealing the hulking shape that floated there in zero gravity. The Shaper vessel. It loomed over Morgan and Cox. Its vast segmented bow section seemed to glower at the audience like a great predator examining its prey. The assembled dignitaries shrank before it. There were gasps of awe then a troubled silence.

‘The enemy has thousands, perhaps millions of ships like this. This craft is only a scout vessel, yet we believe it to be capable of besting Commonwealth ships many times its tonnage. Make no mistake; our civilisation is in the direst peril. To this end I am declaring a state of martial law within the Commonwealth. As head of the Navy I am assuming responsibility for the security of all citizens until this crisis is over. Until that time, the civilian government of the Commonwealth is suspended. All military units are now under my command. Those that fail to recognise the new chain of command will be treated as renegades and will be dealt with accordingly. All of you that I have invited here today are people we feel that we can trust. I know that you will do the right thing. As patriotic citizens we must stand together for the good of all. I appeal to the people of the Commonwealth to support us in this difficult time and to remain vigilant. Thank you.’

With that he stepped down from the dais amid a barrage of shouted questions from the assembled journalists and was spirited away by marine guards. An aide began to distribute printed copies of the dossier to the audience, who grabbed eagerly at the thick, glossy tomes.

The transmission cut back to the studio, where a stunned looking anchorwoman attempted to maintain her composure.

‘Shocking words from the Admiral, who has apparently declared himself as de facto leader in place of the President. This… looks like the beginning of a military coup. We go live now to our political correspondent

’

Isaacs and Anna sat in stunned silence as the key moments from Morgan’s speech were repeated with commentary.

‘This looks like the beginnings of civil war,’ said Isaacs.

‘Yeah, assuming anyone buys it,’ Anna replied.

‘How could they not? Morgan’s turned the entire story on its head. All of it is true except the people involved. How many people have already fallen under the influence of the Shapers? Let’s face it; most of the lower ranks of the military will fall in line if they think they’re acting in our interests.’

‘Maybe, but what about the people? They aren’t going to accept a suspension of democracy, are they?’

‘Who knows? Morgan held out the promise of a restoration of government, and most will be too scared by the threat he’s shown them to care. Think about it: we only had an inkling that something was going on. Most people will have had no idea whatsoever. They’re frightened and shocked and Morgan is offering them the choice between his protection and strong leadership or a weak and divided government.’

‘We need to keep a very close eye on what happens next in this system,’ said Anna. ‘Find out all we can and report back to Chen. She and Haines will need all the intel that they can get. Surely the units under different commands won’t turn so easily?’

‘I think you’re right. Haines is a popular and respected commander. The men and women under his command will need a damn sight more than Morgan’s accusations to turn against him. Morgan might be able to turn most of the Southern Fleet, but the North and Eastern commands are battle hardened and mostly loyal to Haines, I’d say.’

‘This isn’t going to end well, is it?’

‘No. No it’s not. By the way, what did your harbourmaster contact want to tell us?’

‘Something about high numbers of weapons shipments coming through here. Much more than the usual training supplies he said.’

‘Shit. We need to go and see him then.’

They dressed, grabbed a quick bite to eat from the hotel breakfast buffet and then made their way towards the meeting point; a warehouse close to the dock end of the habitat only a short walk from the hotel. Already Isaacs could sense the change in air. People scurried about the streets, heads down, worried expressions upon their faces. Others strained to peer at screens in the bars, cafes and public spaces, watching endless repeats of Morgan’s speech and the recycled punditry on the news channels. As they walked, a number of police transports hummed quickly overhead on AG, descending quickly to deploy their cargoes of flak jacketed and armed figures. Isaacs was unsure whether they were intended as a reassurance or a threat.

‘So, this guy just came up to you in the bar and offered to divulge this data?’

‘No, of course not. Maria knows him from way back. He used to help her move items through here for a kickback. He’s good people. We helped him out last year when the Sirius Syndicate were trying to muscle in on the dock workers’ contracts. One good turn

’

‘Yeah I get it.’

They walked on through the nervous crowds, the light tube overhead brightening to a simulated mid-day glare causing people to squint at handheld screens and wall mounted displays. There weren’t many aliens on the streets he noticed. Morgan’s dire warning about pernicious alien influences must be making them nervous.

The warehouse was located in an out of the way industrial park close to the docks that belonged to one of the smaller shipping companies operating in the system. Empty cargo containers were stacked high around the functional box of a building, creating a metal walled maze around the perimeter. As they approached, a squat figure emerged from between two battered containers stamped with the stencilled logo of a locally based electronics concern. He was dressed in a faded t-shirt and jeans, the animated design on the shirt having long since stuck on a single frame of a basketball player jumping to slam-dunk the ball. His balding pate was beaded with sweat. He looked at them nervously and then askance at the street to make sure no-one else was around.

‘Hey, Anna.’

‘Hey, Nikolai. This is my husband Cal, you remember him last night from the bar?’

‘Yeah. Hey man, you’re looking a little worse for wear this morning.’

‘Ah yeah, you could say that. Can’t say waking up to the news this morning did me much good either.’

‘Fucking thing came through whilst I was working. Jesus, you know I had these right in my desk drawer?’ He waved a sheaf of print outs. ‘Damn near shit myself. I thought to myself, if someone finds me with these, then that’s it. Something is very wrong here man, very wrong. What the fuck does Morgan think he’s doing?’

‘Trying to start a coup, that’s what,’ said Anna.

‘No fucking kidding. You need to take a look at these. Some heavy shit has been coming through here lately.’

Isaacs looked at him quizzically

‘I wasn’t aware that the military tended to declare the contents of their cargo runs to civilians.’

‘They don’t, but anything that comes through the station has to be recorded. Military stuff just gets marked down as that. Since they stopped civilian traffic from entering the inner system we’ve had a lot more. Civilian haulers from the arms manufacturers have been dropping cargoes for military haulers to pick up. They never declare what they are, but I know enough about cargo to recognise ammo crates and star-ship parts when I see them - great fucking blast-proof things. You know I figured at first they were for an exercise or something, but this stuff has been coming through here in huge quantities. Then you guys showed up last night, and now this.’

‘Thanks Nikolai, we appreciate it. I’ll arrange payment via the usual people, and it’ll definitely be worth your trouble.’

‘No problem. It’s all there from the past three weeks. I bet you’d find similar if you asked around the other trading hubs in the system.’

‘You know, I think we will.’

‘I gotta go before I’m missed. See you around.’

He looked nervously at the street and then hurried away.

‘Jesus, he looked rattled,’ said Isaacs.

‘Wouldn’t you be? The guy could lose more than his job if he gets caught. Come on, we’ll look at this later,’ said Anna and stuffed the folded pages inside her jacket.

They made their way back through the streets to the hotel. The police were now definitely out in force. Isaacs eyed their blue and white armoured forms with suspicion.

‘You know, I really think we ought to get back to Port Royal as soon as we can. I don’t like the look of this at all. It could turn ugly once people have got over the shock of Morgan’s announcement.’

‘Yeah and if it does, there’s a good chance they’ll shut down the port and we could end up stuck here for the duration,’ Anna replied. ‘Let’s grab our stuff and go.’

They checked out of the hotel and made their way on foot to the docking bay where the Jilted Lover currently resided under the assumed name Brass Monkey. The clumps of police and port authority security gave them only cursory glances as they returned to the ship. Isaacs’ heart thudded in his chest. His attempts to act nonchalant were, paradoxically, making him feel more self conscious. Anna, on the other hand, appeared cool as ice, though whether she was just better at hiding her nerves he couldn’t tell.

In the end, they reached the docking bay without any mishaps where the flattened fish shape of the Jilted Lover sat in a row of other assorted vessels of similar size. They climbed aboard and Isaacs requested departure whilst Anna spun up the engines and completed the pre-flight checks. The dock lift hoisted them upwards towards the centrally mounted airlock with a jolt of sudden acceleration and then the hum of electrics and gearing before coming to a halt in the lock. There was a brief pause before the outer doors opened, displaying the slowly rotating star-field and the partially illuminated face of the planet Venice, its azure seas, loops of island chains and atolls hidden beneath whorls of cloud.

Anna hit the throttle and moved the ship smoothly out into space, touching the manoeuvring thrusters a little to counter-act the rotation induced by the station. Traffic around the station appeared normal. The comings and goings of freighters, liners and tugs were apparently undisturbed by the recent events.

‘See?’ said Isaacs. ‘Piece of cake. I’ll get those jump coordinates punched in and we’ll be on our way once we clear traffic control. Then we can have a look at what your friend gave us.’

‘Sure,’ Anna replied, her eyes scanning the controls. Ten kilometres ahead, a boxy cargo hauler with a single cargo container clasped to its hull was approaching the traffic control boundary and preparing to jump. Anna watched its drives flare, pushing it forward at greater speed before it disappeared into hyperspace. She watched the distance to the boundary count down on the HUD. Suddenly with alarm, she noticed a large incoming warp signature. It was way off course, well outside the approved ingress routes. What the hell was he doing? Jesus, he was going to emerge right on top of them! She had a very bad feeling about this.

‘Cal,’ she began to say, before the Callisto class cruiser emerged from its jump right in front of them, the gray, shovel-nosed craft looming large and head-on in the cockpit glass.

‘Shit!’ Isaacs swore as he looked up and saw the warship, bristling with anti-fighter turrets, now sitting in their path. ‘Quick! Evasive manoeuvres while I override the safety lockouts on the drive so we can jump in the control zone. Pull us out of the shipping lane and hit the throttle.’

‘You don’t say?’ said Anna, wrenching the controls and looping the ship over and down away from the reach of the cruiser’s guns which were already coming to bear. She noted grimly that a number of police corvettes were already launching from Venice High.

‘Falsely designated vessel, Brass Monkey. This is the Commonwealth Navy cruiser Casilinum. You are ordered to cut power and heave-to immediately. Fail to do so and you will be fired upon.’

‘Oh this brings back such fond memories,’ said Isaacs as he pored over his console. ‘Just keep us moving, boost power to the shields.’

‘Yeah, I know. Fuck!’ Anna replied as a warning shot from the cruiser’s main gun stitched a line of superheated particles in front of the bows. She twisted the Jilted Lover away and stabbed at the afterburners.

Now the police were on the comm.

‘Fugitive vessel, this is Lieutenant Hsu of Venice High Port Authority Police. You are in violation of Commonwealth shipping laws regarding the declaration of vessel idents and cargo. You are wanted in connection with illegal trafficking in classified military information. Power down and surrender your vessel. We have your accomplice Nikolai Ivanisovic in custody.’

‘Tell them to go fuck themselves,’ said Isaacs. ‘Jesus, this fucking drive computer of yours is an awkward son of a bitch, I need your pass-codes.’

Anna threw the ship in another direction as a storm of rapid laser fire suddenly battered the aft shields.

‘Mine and your birthdays, day, month, year. God damn it!’ Another flurry of blows knocked the ship sideways as she pulled up hard. Even though they were at the edge of the anti-fighter guns’ range, the weapons were still doing serious damage to the shields.

‘Almost got it,’ muttered Isaacs. ‘Try and get us further away from that cruiser!’

‘Oh, you think? Do you want to fly this thing yourself!?’

‘Well

Hmm almost there.’

‘Jesus, how the hell did they find out so quickly!?’

‘I guess we’re just lucky we left when we did. Someone must have just realised who we were after we left the dock and called for back-up, either that or they were watching us the whole time. I suppose that cruiser ‘just happened’ to be in the vicinity?’

‘Poor Nikolai.’

Another blow caught the looping yacht’s belly and shook it violently as the interior lights and console displays flickered. A particle beam lanced over the starboard wing, missing the Jilted Lover by only a few metres. Warning lights indicated that the ventral shields had collapsed.

‘Yeah. They must have been watching him I guess. Okay got it! Jump us out!’

‘I’m trying, nothing’s happening. Wait, the navigation computer’s offline. Shit, those cops are closing in now!’

‘What? Oh fucking hell!’

‘That hit must have fried something. Wait

yeah the back-up batteries have gone. The electrical discharge must have fried something. The system got knocked off line to protect it.’

‘Oh. Wonderful. You know you ought to take this thing back to where you bought it.’

The ship shook once more.

‘Think I might have invalidated the warranty. Ah hell, we lost aft shields. Another hit like that and we’ll be dead in the water. How long till the navi-comp reboots?’

‘Another minute or so. I’ll see if I can re-route some power to those aft shields.’

‘Okay. Let’s see if I can find us some cover.’

Anna rolled the ship and came about so that the oceans and clouds of Venice now filled the screen. A line of massive vessels stitched a pattern across its face. Isaacs realised that she was taking them towards the freighter lane into the space surrounding the station. Around a dozen behemoths of various types were plodding their way to and from parking orbit positions around the station where an army of loader tugs waiting to load and unload their cargos. Anna powered towards one inbound vessel heavily laden with house sized cargo containers.

The Casilinum was still pursuing, its main engines glowing blue at full burn, but with the Jilted Lover now out of the effective range of its guns it appeared to be merely directing the pursuing police corvettes who had fanned out in a claw like formation. Their turreted weapons were now raking the rear and flanks of Anna’s ship with pulses of laser fire.

They were close to the looming bulk of the freighter now. Anna looped the Jilted Lover around the stream of charged particles vomiting from the engine nozzles and brought the small ship over and down into the central corridor made by the dual rows of containers, the tips of the yacht’s fuselage almost scraping the plated metal on both sides. Then she slammed on the reverse thrusters and brought the ship to a stop relative to the moving freighter, parking the Jilted Lover in the shadowy depths close to the deck.

‘Nice flying,’ commented Isaacs. ‘I can see you’ve been paying attention.’

‘Ha!’ she snorted derisively. ‘I’m entirely self-taught. Anyway, this should buy us a minute until the computer’s back online. They won’t dare fire on us in here.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because this freighter is loaded with mining explosives. I saw the warning logos on the containers. One of these babies goes off and it’s goodnight to everything in a ten kilometre radius.’

‘Oh. Great. You know I’d forgotten that you’re fucking nuts.’

‘Thought that was why you loved me?’

‘Well, you have a point. Okay the computer’s back on-line. Looks like the police ships are holding station around the freighter, which incidentally is now coming to a halt. That cruiser’s still on the way though. I’m re-entering the coordinates, get ready to jump.’

‘Got it,’ Anna replied and angled the Jilted Lover upwards from the deck of the freighter.

‘Okay, now!’ said Isaacs and he entered the last coordinates. Anna hit the main engines and powered the ship forward at maximum burn. As the Jilted Lover shot out from between the rows of containers like a bullet from a gun, the turrets of both the Casilinum and the police vessels opened fire. Too late. The Jilted Lover vanished in a ripple of distorted space-time as laser and particle beams intersected across empty space.

Chapter 32

Earth. Chen watched her home planet fill the cockpit window of the small shuttle as it began to descend towards the upper atmosphere. The greens and browns of the American western seaboard contrasted sharply with the brilliant blues of the Pacific Ocean and brilliant white of the cloud systems gathering over the Sierra Nevada.

It had been a long time since she’d last seen the planet of her birth and the home planet of her species. The last time she’d set foot here had been over two years ago for a disciplinary hearing after her involvement in the destruction of Highpoint Station for which, she reflected, she had gotten off rather lightly considering the death toll. She had only won her reprieve because Haines had realised her combat potential in the forthcoming war and because the powers that be had recognised that sending a warship to negotiate with protestors had been an enormous error of judgement.

Nevertheless it had had been a brief, unpleasant visit. She had not visited her family or lingered in the system. Instead she had returned to her ship, been re-assigned a new XO and new orders and left immediately. An awful lot had happened since then. She wore Admiral’s pips on her uniform now, for one. That was something she had thought impossible the last time she had been here, having fully expected to be stripped of her command.

However, she doubted that this visit would any more pleasant. Despite being the glittering jewel at the heart of the Commonwealth, wrapped in wealth, power, history and culture, Earth lay under a shadow of political intrigue, infighting and paranoia as her politicians squabbled over the ruins of the government, many of whose former members now languished in prison or under house arrest. It was still unclear who was actually in charge, as so many of the chain of command had been removed at a stroke that no-one was sure who was entitled to assume the Presidency. For the meantime, a coalition of formerly junior ministers and aides ran a cobbled together interim administration. The Commonwealth was dangerously vulnerable. She doubted that any news that Haines had for her was going to be encouraging.

The shuttle was descending towards the scattering of clouds that partially hid the unmistakable outline of San Francisco bay. The atmospheric friction caused a pale orange glow around the small craft’s shields as the pilot kept them at the optimum re-entry angle. The craft was one of hers from the Churchill, the carrier itself having been parked in a cislunar orbit well away from the multitude of shipping lanes that spiralled about and radiated from Earth and its moon. Haines was waiting for her below, having arrived a day previously with the Abraham Lincoln and her battle-group. They had much to discuss.

Ten minutes later Chen’s shuttle touched down carefully onto one of the hexagonal military landing pads at Alameida -the old United States naval base long ago converted into a Commonwealth Navy spaceport for small in-system vessels. Across the bay, the skyline of San Francisco - carefully preserved despite the San Andreas Fault upon which it stood - glittered in the morning sunlight. The slender, suspended arc of the Golden Gate Bridge was partially visible in the far distance through a veil of mist.

Chen stepped from the shuttle onto the windswept landing pad that was noisy with the sound of engines as another shuttle lifted off from the adjacent pad. She paused to glance across the water at the city of her birth which rumbled and whined with the sounds of traffic. Somewhere beyond the forest of towers and slender pyramids - between which airborne vehicles moved like industrious bees - was her old family home at the end of Geary Street where her parents still lived. She was home at last. She smelled the air, rich with the tang of the sea. It had been so long since she’d been back, but alas she doubted that there would be any time for reunions, except one.

Fleet Admiral George Haines stepped forward briskly across the landing pad and extended a leathery hand, his scarred, craggy face wearing a satisfied smile. Chen saluted and he returned the gesture

‘Good to see you again Admiral,’ he said and he shook her hand firmly.

‘You too sir,’ Chen replied.

‘It’s good to know that we still have people of your calibre on our side. By God, I’ll never forget what you did to those K’Soth bastards. Damn near won us the war all by yourself. But I need your talents now more than ever.’

‘Morgan and Cox.’

‘And the rest. This betrayal now runs deeper and further than we could ever have imagined. Come on, we have a lot to talk about.’ He glanced around. ‘Somewhere more private,’ he added, darkly.

Somewhere more private turned out to be a small windowless room that had once been a basement storage area for the original naval base and had long since fallen into neglect. A desk and a couple of folding chairs had been placed amid the mouldering piles of stationery and antiquated computer equipment that had been hastily moved out of the way. The air smelled damp and stale, as if un-breathed by others for some time. Chen noticed the remains of a paper desk calendar atop one of the piles: its rat gnawed pages showed it to date from over a century ago.

‘Nice office, sir,’ she commented with a touch of humour. ‘Who says that rank has no perks?’

‘It’ll do,’ Haines commented gruffly. ‘No-one will bother us down here, and more importantly it’s much harder to bug. No electronics in the walls, no windows, nothing. Smells like something died in here though, unfortunately.’

They sat down on the creaking chairs and Haines produced a datapad from a locked case within one of the desk drawers, activated it, and then placed it on the desk.

‘War Marshal Mentith was good enough to brief me on your report just after I arrived. It was a shock, I can tell you. I’ve known Morgan for over seventy years - the man made Admiral just after I got my first command and I served under him for the rest of my career. I

I don’t know how they could have got to him.’ She noticed anger and sadness in those hard features for a moment.

‘We don’t know how long they’ve been planning this sir,’ Chen replied. ‘Maybe the man you knew all along was one of them, an alien parasite peering out through the eyes of a man.’

‘Maybe. It seems he’s not the only one. Things are bad Michelle, very bad. Only two days ago whilst you were in transit to Earth, Morgan came out openly against the government, showed everyone the Shaper ship and claimed that the President, the cabinet, the rest of the Joint Chiefs, plus myself and others in senior positions were under their influence. He’s assumed command of Southern Fleet Headquarters and rallied over two dozen systems to his cause so far and more declare for him every day. I’m sorry to report that there’s been very little dissent from those under his command.’

‘He turned it around, made us the traitors.’

‘Yeah, it was a smart move. Most of the men under his command won’t rebel because they think they’re remaining loyal to the Commonwealth, that Morgan is rushing the rescue and ridding us of the Shaper threat. Of course we’ve already ordered them to disregard his orders but it isn’t having much effect. The government, or what’s left of it, is trying to reason with the rebels but their credibility ain’t what it used to be and their response has been badly organised. I’d say it’s only a matter of time before Morgan moves against Earth.’

‘You do?’

‘Yeah, it’s what I’d do. He’ll try for a coup and the way to do that is to cut off the head of government and replace it. He has the assets to do it too if he moves quickly and he’s already massing his forces in the Spica system. It looks like he’s assembling a major strike force.’

‘But surely we’d outnumber him? We have the other three commands at our disposal.’

‘True. But most of Northern command - my ships - are currently dispersed across the remains of the K’Soth Empire. It’ll take a fortnight to recall them to Earth and a good number of them are being refitted following combat damage. Eastern command is likewise dispersed as they’ve been filling in for Northern command’s duties in the Commonwealth and they’re mainly fielding second-line equipment. Western command, as I’m sure you’re aware, is a joke; since we don’t anticipate any threat from our Arkari friends along our western borders. They’ve few carriers, not enough battleships and what they have is, again, outdated and poorly maintained. Morgan may have fewer ships, but Southern command was second in line for equipment upgrades, given the volume they have to cover and the volatile nature of those outlying regions. Space beyond our southern border is less well explored and we wanted to be ready in case anything came out of the darkness for us. I don’t think we anticipated this though.

On top of that, we don’t have this sector entirely secure. Plenty of ships under Morgan’s command are within the core systems, including this one, and we don’t know how many traitors are within our midst. If it came to a fight right now, I think we’d be on an equal footing. We might have more ships, but they’re far too dispersed and many just aren’t up to scratch.’

‘We have to make those under his command see the truth,’ said Chen. ‘We have to speak directly to the men and women on those ships rather than the politicians. Surely sir, your reputation will count for much. Many may have even served under you.’

‘True, but it won’t be easy. From your report it seems possible that those ships that were under Cox’s command in the Hadar system may have been taken over by the enemy. Plus I doubt most of the men and women under Morgan are aware the bigger picture. Even they do have doubts they may be just following orders and hoping to ride this out. Meanwhile we have other business to attend to, namely; rescuing Rheinhold and restoring the government. Crooked or no, somebody has to be in charge, and I’m damned if I’m going to set up a military dictatorship. Whatever he might have done, we need his political experience and that of his cabinet. We do have a slight problem, however.’

‘Sir?’

‘Following Morgan’s announcement, he ordered Rheinhold and those cabinet members already in jail to be moved to secure a military facility on Chiron.’

‘Chiron, sir?’

‘It’s an asteroid in an irregular orbit around the Sun and currently lies out near the orbit of Uranus.’ He turned the datapad towards her, showing an irregular globe of dimly lit rock. ‘We built a black ops training facility there about a century ago. Rheinhold and his cabinet are being held in the brig on the site by forces still loyal to Morgan. There’s a contingent of marines on the surface and a force of four destroyers on station in the local volume keeping watch. Your mission will be to get rid of those ships by whatever means and then land a Special Forces team on the surface and rescue the prisoners.’

‘By whatever means, sir?’

‘Try to reason with them and get them to see sense if you can, but if they won’t back down you’ll have to put them out of action one way or another. It’s not a pleasant thought, having to fire on our own people, but bear in mind that they may no longer be just that.’

‘Yes sir. I’ll get the job done. The Churchill is more than capable of taking down those ships if we have to.’

‘Glad to hear it. You’ll also have to reduce the base defences before landing. Fortunately we’ve managed to retrieve schematics of its defences as well as the layout of the complex, but be prepared for the fact that Morgan’s people may have beefed them up since then.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

‘Good. You leave at oh-six-hundred in the morning, by which time the Special Forces extraction team will have transferred to your ship. On your return to Earth following this operation I’ll be placing you in charge of defending the home system in the event of Morgan making a sudden move. I’ll be exploring options for a pre-emptive move against him, once we have sufficient intelligence on his deployments and when we have assets in place for a strike without leaving our core systems undefended.’

‘Yes sir. Thank you, sir.’

‘Don’t thank me just yet. This is going to get much worse before it gets better. The Arkari deep range hyperspace monitoring arrays have detected massive exotic energy spikes coming from close to the galactic centre. The Shapers seem to be powering up something, perhaps a weapon of some kind. In any case, it seems that they may have harnessed the power of the black hole at the galactic core to whatever purpose they now pursue.’

‘Personally sir, I’d prefer a straight fight than all this subterfuge. At least I’d be able to look my enemy in the face and know who he was. The thought that Shaper agents could be right among us makes my blood run cold.’

‘Well, we’ve initiated a crash screening program of all our personnel, not just those in Spec Ops. If those bastards are hiding among us, we’ll find them. However, if it does come to a shooting match with the Shapers themselves, I’m not sure what chance we’d stand. That ship that Cox recovered is unlike anything you or I have ever seen before, Admiral, and the Shapers have had longer than the age of the Earth to perfect their arts of war.’

‘True sir, but then they’ve never fought me before,’ she replied, remaining absolutely deadpan. Haines smiled broadly and gave a deep throaty laugh. He began to pack away the datapad and then paused. He looked thoughtful, as if something had just occurred to him.

‘Michelle, you have family here in San Francisco, don’t you?’ he said in a fatherly tone.

‘Yes sir, I grew up here. My parents still live on the west side of the city.’

‘You should go and see them while you have the chance, before everything goes straight to hell.’

Chapter 33

Isaacs and Anna stepped wearily from the battered yacht, its hull plinking and creaking as it cooled. Anna ducked under the landing gear to inspect the fresh damage to the rear quarter of the ship, then grimaced as she saw the ragged holes punched through the skin of the Jilted Lover. Isaacs joined her and gave a long low whistle when he saw how close they had come to disaster.

‘Shit,’ he spat. ‘A few centimetres deeper and those power cells on the aft port manoeuvring thrusters would have melted straight out of the engine housing. The blowback would have taken out the port engine at least.’

‘No kidding,’ Anna replied. ‘Guess we got lucky this time, huh?’

‘That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. At least we lost them.’

‘Yeah but it took a while. That damn cruiser managed to follow us through three consecutive jumps. They must be getting better at tracking us.’

‘Depends who ‘they’ are now, doesn’t it? That ship was one of Cox’s in Hadar. Who knows where it’s been or what’s on board?’

‘Well, well,’ said a voice from the far side of the hangar bay. ‘You two lovebirds are back so soon?’

‘Yeah’ said Isaacs. ‘The honeymoon suite at the Venice High Hilton wasn’t quite to our liking so we thought we’d come back to this high quality establishment.’

‘Hey Maria,’ said Anna, ducking out from under the Jilted Lover and seeing the flight-suited woman leaning casually against an ammo gurney. ‘Listen, we found out a few things about what’s going on around here. We need to see The Speaker right away, and we need to get what we found out to Chen.’

‘What did you find out?’

‘That Morgan and Cox are about to start a war.’

‘No shit? Looks like they started with you, huh?’ Maria replied, nodding at the obvious damage to the Jilted Lover. ‘Look, The Speaker’s kind of busy; he has guests. But I guess this is important enough to disturb him with. Come on, let’s go see him.’

They found The Speaker in his chamber with two other Nahabe. The three sarcophagi floated facing one another forming a circle of alien forms. If they were communicating, it was not on any wavelength discernible to human senses. As the three humans entered, the Nahabe all swivelled smoothly in unison to face them.

‘Interruption,’ said one of the newcomers. ‘We asked not to be disturbed.’

‘Protocol must take precedence,’ said the other. ‘The Speaker has not finished welcoming us. The ritual must be completed, formality demands it.’

‘My apologies,’ said Isaacs, his voice not without a hint of sarcasm. ‘But we thought that this was important enough to disturb you with.’ He held out the sheaf of papers that Nikolai had given them. ‘Morgan and Cox are about to start a war. They’ve been shipping in unusually large quantities weapons, ammo and other supplies to the military facilities here in Spica. It’s all here. Read it.’

‘You are sure this is authentic?’ said The Speaker.

‘Yeah we’re sure,’ said Anna. ‘The man who gave us this was arrested shortly afterwards because of it and we barely made it back here in one piece.’

‘I see,’ The Speaker replied. ‘Your courage is, as ever, admirable. My guests agree that your interruption was truly justifiable.’

‘Uh thanks,’ said Isaacs. ‘But just who are these guys?’

‘They represent the Nahabe gunspheres currently parked outside, the Uncaring Cosmos and the Blessed Nothingness.’

‘Cheerful names,’ Isaacs replied. ‘I take it they lose something in translation. But we just arrived and we saw no ships on our way in.’

‘I assure you that they are there,’ said The Speaker. ‘My government, as a gesture of good faith, has dispatched these assets as a trial exercise, to see if they can usefully render some assistance to us. Success may result in them deploying further vessels to assist us in the war against the Shapers.’

‘Well we need all the help we can get,’ said Maria. ‘Thank you, we appreciate your help,’ she added, addressing the two other Nahabe, who remained silent and impassive. The Speaker meanwhile floated over to Isaacs, took the sheaf of papers from him with a slender manipulator claw and appeared to inspect them for a moment.

‘Yes, most troubling,’ it mused. ‘I will have this sent to our friend Admiral Chen immediately. She must be warned of Morgan’s preparations. I believe now would be a good time to move to the next phase of our plans.’

‘Which is?’ asked Isaacs.

‘We need to ascertain the manner and level of Shaper infection within the ships under Morgan’s command. We should be particularly concerned with those vessels that were present at Centrepoint Station when it momentarily vanished and whether their entire crews, or merely certain officers among them, were infected.’

‘Would those who were not infected remember anything about their little trip?’

‘Probably not. They would have been rendered unconscious for the duration in order that the Shapers could take over the vessels. If they remain themselves they could have no recollection of those lost hours, no matter how long they may have spent on the other side of that wormhole. If they did remember, they would surely have gone mad with terror by now, the repercussions of which would be obvious.’

‘So what do you propose?’

‘That we capture a ship intact and investigate the state of the crew. If they remain sane and

unchanged we shall release them unharmed after educating them as to the current situation. If not

’

‘We shall retain them for study,’ said one of the others. ‘Shaper technology has doubtless moved on since we last encountered them. We need to update our knowledge.’

‘We intend to use your ships as bait, to lure one of the Commonwealth Navy ships away and then we shall intervene to subdue it. We shall then board the vessel and investigate its contents.’

‘That simple, huh?’ said Anna. ‘Seems like it’s us getting shot at again. I’ve had enough of that for one day.’

‘I have a feeling that we’ll be getting used to it,’ said Isaacs. ‘Besides, I think we have the perfect candidate and the perfect bait.’

‘The Casilinum?’ Anna queried.

‘Yeah. She’s still out on her own around the tenth planet trying to follow our trail. I say we give her something to find. I just need to reset the Profit Margin’s IFF transponders so that it broadcasts its true identity first. They won’t be able to resist chasing us.’

Anna looked at him for a moment.

‘You actually enjoy this shit, don’t you?’ she said.

‘Well

yeah actually. You never feel more alive than when someone’s trying to kill you.’

‘I’ll try and remember that next time.’

The Casilinum moved slowly amid the vast ring of ice and dust that encircled the tenth planet of the Spica system, its sensors and searchlights playing across the myriad surfaces as it searched the last known position of the Jilted Lover. The cruiser was dwarfed by the bulbous orb of the blue-green gas giant Poseidon, whose turbulent cloud tops boiled in striated layers of colour.

Slowly, the Profit Margin edged from behind the limb of the second moon, Santorini, whose volcanic atmosphere had shielded the small sleek craft as it had jumped into position close behind the small body.

From the cockpit of their ship, Isaacs and Anna surveyed the scene, magnified on screen and relayed from the Profit Margin’s sensors. At this distance, Poseidon appeared as a football sized globe in the sky.

‘You’re sure this is going to work Cal?’ said Anna warily. ‘I still can’t pick up any signs of any actual Nahabe ships. They’d better show up.’

‘Well, this was their idea,’ Isaacs replied. ‘So I guess they’ve made their way to somewhere near the rendezvous point. Just wish I knew where.’

‘Any idea how big those gunspheres are?’

‘Nope, but I am wondering how they’ve managed to completely conceal them. You know I whacked the sensors right up to maximum resolution on the way back out of Port Royal and they didn’t pick up a thing. Okay, well I’m sure we’re about to find out how they did it. Let’s see if the Casilinum takes the bait. I’ll move us in,’ he said and edged the throttle forward, powering the Profit Margin up to three quarters of her full speed.

‘Anita!’ he cried into the ship comm. ‘Power up the dorsal and ventral turrets and prepare to fire when we get closer. You won’t do any damage but this has to look convincing.’

Anita responded excitedly and Isaacs noted the slight power drain as the twin particle beam turrets began to charge.

‘Why did you have to bring her along?’ said Anna, testily. ‘Maria could have handled this.’

‘She needs to get her confidence back, that’s why,’ Isaacs replied. ‘The last time she came out it shook her up pretty badly. I figured she needed to get back in the saddle, so I asked her to come.’

‘Oh.’

‘Not jealous are you?’

‘About your little fling? No, not at all.’

‘Good.’

‘Should I be?’

‘No! Jesus, let me concentrate.’

‘You know, you’re acting like a father figure. I’d say that adds a whole new level of complexity to the situation.’

‘You know I actually need to focus on what I’m doing here?’ Isaacs shot back at her, testily. ‘Okay, I’ll make it look as though we’re headed for one of the gas mining platforms in low orbit

’

‘We have to make this look convincing if they’re going to follow us. Wait

’ she peered at the comms console where a purely text based message had appeared. ‘Okay the Nahabe ships are in position around the twelfth planet’s trailing trojan cluster. No other ships reported in the area. We’re all set.’

‘Good, we need to do this before any other vessels from the inner system can respond.’

‘Won’t Morgan miss an entire cruiser?’

‘He will, but if he doesn’t know what’s happened to it then it doesn’t matter, does it?’

Isaacs initiated a short jump towards the planet, skipping the Profit Margin forward through hyperspace to emerge above the plane of the ring system in an eye-blink. The gas giant now loomed large in front of them, a vast curving wall of churning gases, the glittering broad band of the rings arcing beneath them. The Casilinum now lay a hundred kilometres to port. They ought to be clearly visible to it. Isaacs fired the retros to slow the ship as though they were making for the cloud-tops, whilst Anna punched in the coordinates for the next jump.

‘Think they’re gonna go for it?’ said Anna after a tense moment of silence as Poseidon grew imperceptibly larger in the cockpit windows.

‘They will

’

Something chimed in the cockpit.

‘Hey you were right, looks like we’re being scanned,’ Anna commented. ‘They’ve seen us. Yep, she’s headed this way.’

The comm. crackled into life:

‘Vessel Profit Margin, this is the Commonwealth Navy cruiser Casilinum. You are ordered to power down and prepare to be boarded. Failure to do so will result in the use of deadly force.’

‘Oh this is getting old,’ Isaacs commented. ‘You’d think these guys would have thought of some new lines by now.’

‘She’s preparing to jump,’ Anna said. ‘I’m getting energy spikes from the drive.’

Isaacs grunted a response as he suddenly changed course and powered the engines to full throttle, diving down into the rings as the Casilinum suddenly appeared above them, its angular bulk now resting only dozens of metres from where the Profit Margin ought to have been

‘Jesus, that was close!’ Anna yelped. ‘Anita! Make this look realistic. Open fire with everything you’ve got! You won’t even scratch them mind

’

As Anita replied in the affirmative the Profit Margin began to vibrate with the rhythmic pulse of the twin turrets now firing backwards at the cruiser, etching lines of brilliant colour across its shields, but utterly failing to penetrate them.

‘Okay, we’re ready to jump,’ said Anna as the first of the Casilinum’s shots began to batter against the shields.

‘Just a little longer

’ said Isaacs. ‘We can’t look like we pre-planned this

’

‘What!? Are you fucking insane? Jump!’ she cried and as if to emphasise her point a particularly violent impact from the Casilinum’s main gun - which by now had managed to angle downwards to target them - jolted the ship along its length. She looked backwards via the ship’s external cameras and saw the cruiser’s shovel nose coming about. The glow from the aft engine section indicated that the ship was powering towards them at full speed as it brought more of its forward turrets to bear. Anna could see them flashing in the darkness as they blazed away. The Profit Margin lurched at its aft shields were battered by the bombardment.

As they reached the upper edge of the ring Isaacs engaged the jump drive, the dimensional distortion ripples spreading outwards among the dust and debris like a stone hitting a millpond as the Profit Margin disappeared from view. The Casilinum continued on its course and then followed them into hyperspace, its large wake obliterating the smaller ripples of the preceding ship.

Around half an hour later the Profit Margin emerged from its jump at the pre-arrange rendezvous point, having crossed the Spica system to reach the trojan cluster of asteroids trailing the twelfth planet, a purple and blue banded ice giant known as Boreas. The Casilinum, though an older, slightly slower vessel than the Profit Margin, was not far behind, as Isaacs found when his eyes immediately flicked to the display from the hyperspatial sensors on their emergence from the jump and saw the cruiser’s warp wake bearing down on their position. Of the Nahabe however, there was no sign.

‘Shit!’ he swore. ‘Shit, where are they?’

‘They said they’d be here,’ said Anna agitatedly. ‘Cal we have to trust them.’

‘Yeah? Well start punching in the coordinates for a jump out of here. That damn cruiser’s almost on top of us!’

As if on cue the Casilinum emerged from its jump a mere five kilometres behind the Profit Margin and immediately began routing power to its engines and weapons systems. A glancing blow lanced out and hammered the aft quadrant of the cutter.

‘God damn it! Where the hell are they?’ Isaacs cried. ‘You know, now would be a good time

’ he muttered as he banked the ship violently away from its present course. Anita, meanwhile, had resumed her duty of doggedly firing away at the advancing warship.

‘Wait,’ said Anna excitedly. ‘Something’s happening.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know exactly, I’m picking up fluctuations on the hyperspatial sensors.’

‘Incoming warp wakes? Please tell me the Nahabe are here.’

‘I think they are but

I think they were here all along.’

As she spoke, two massive craft began to emerge from the hyperdimensional pockets within which they had concealed themselves within space-time like ticks under the skin of an animal. They were massive polyhedral vessels; rough spheres over two kilometres in diameter formed from dozens of angular sections that fitted together in a seemingly haphazard fashion. Like other Nahabe vessels that Anna and Cal had seen, their hulls were a dark metallic green colour which gleamed dully in the sunlight. Emerging either side of the Casilinum, they dwarfed the smaller human vessel.

As Anna watched a strange golden glow began to emanate from the narrow gaps between the hull sections of the two alien vessels, before brilliant blue arcs leapt from them and began to play across the hull of the cruiser. As they did so, the cruiser’s systems appeared to suddenly die. The glow from the engines ceased and all running lights and onboard illumination went out. The two Nahabe ships extended gently glowing fields and gently cradled the captured vessel between them.

‘Captain Isaacs, Captain Favreux. This is the Uncaring Cosmos reporting a successful completion of our mission.’ The voice was machine translated and neutral in tone. It almost sounded as if the speaker were bored.

‘I knew they wouldn’t let us down,’ said Anna.

‘Fucking hell,’ said Isaacs. ‘Talk about leaving it to the last second.’

‘Our apologies. We do have one request to ask of you however.’

‘Go on,’ said Anna warily.

‘When we board the human vessel, we would be honoured if you would join us.’

As the bulky angular shuttle ferried them from the Profit Margin to the waiting Blessed Nothingness, the Nahabe liaison on board explained to Isaacs and Anna their need for the two of them to accompany the boarding party. The liaison’s sarcophagus was a little smaller than usual and its surface was embellished with a series of swirling designs that caught the dim interior illumination within the crypt-like, windowless interior of the alien vessel.

Anita, meanwhile, had been left on board the Profit Margin, despite her protestations at remaining behind once more. Isaacs had keyed in jump coordinates into the ships navi-comp and ordered her to activate the ship’s drive if she needed to take the ship out of danger whilst they were gone.

‘If any of the crew remain entirely human, they will be expecting a hostile boarding party, given the fact that we have just disabled their vessel,’ said the liaison. ‘The sight of a group consisting entirely of aliens will not help the situation. We hope, therefore, that your presence will help to ease matters.’

‘You want a familiar face to come along,’ said Isaacs.

‘Yes. They will be more likely to listen to you, we feel.’

‘Fine, but what if they aren’t entirely human anymore,’ said Anna. ‘Can you guarantee our safety in there?’

‘We will do everything within our power to do so,’ said the alien.

‘That’s not terribly reassuring,’ Anna replied.

‘We have considerable experience in dealing with the Shapers and their hosts in close-quarter combat. You will be accompanied by a large contingency of our finest crusaders.’

‘Crusaders?’ Anna replied incredulously.

‘I use the word as the closest human equivalent, though perhaps jihadis might be more appropriate. The Order of Dead Suns has awaited many millennia for the return of the Shapers, ready to avenge the memory of those star systems that the enemy ravaged during our last war against them and defend us from their further predations upon us.’

‘We’re uh

honoured,’ said Isaacs.

‘And so you should be,’ replied the liaison. ‘Make no mistake, human friends, holy war is coming. The words of your Speaker have travelled far and wide among the Nahabe. Many of us knew that action was inevitable, nay, desirable. They have reached the ears of our holiest fathers and now they urge the faithful to take up arms. For what task could be more holy than the fight against the ultimate darkness imaginable? Hell is very real my friends. It lies at the heart of this galaxy and its minions may even now infest the very ship that we have captured today.’

‘Wonderful,’ said Isaacs. ‘I’m looking forward to this more and more every minute that goes by.’

‘Here,’ said the liaison. From a panel in its sarcophagus it produced a couple of Commonwealth Army standard issue rail rifles and a bag of ammunition clips. ‘You will need these, I fear.’

It held the weapons out to Isaacs and Anna who took them from the extended manipulator claw, examined them with a critical eye and found them to be in perfect condition.

‘Aim for the head,’ said the liaison.

‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ Isaacs replied, peering into the firing chamber of his weapon.

‘Good,’ it replied. ‘Because you may only get one chance.’

There was a slight bump.

‘Ah, it seems we have docked with the Blessed Nothingness,’ said the liaison. ‘It is time for you to meet our warriors.’

The docking hatch folded open like origami and revealed the dimly lit interior of a large docking bay within the Nahabe warship. Standing at the foot of the boarding ramp was an assembly of a dozen sarcophagi. Isaacs gaped in amazement. He was familiar with the Nahabe and the differences in their own personal suits of armour that shielded them from the world, but these were a whole different matter entirely. Each warrior was housed within something that more closely resembled a personal hover-tank. Whereas regular Nahabe sarcophagi were roughly the same height and breadth as a standard human, these were over eight feet tall and around four feet in width. Thick slabs of armour plating were bedecked with trophies and symbols of religion and war, some entire panels being carefully embellished with what looked like excerpts of scripture or alien holy icons. Furthermore, each suit was equipped with weapons that differed from warrior to warrior as befitted the fighting style of its wearer. Some suits sported large powerful arms tipped with energised blades, while others were fitted with projectile and energy weapons. A couple of warriors wore suits fitted with only a single massive weapon resembling a collection of organ pipes that jutted from the shoulder position, rendering their appearance clumsy and lopsided. Isaacs assumed them to be support troopers who would hang back and lay down supporting fire whilst the others closed with the enemy.

One of the suited figures left the group and floated towards Isaacs until its richly adorned armoured form towered over him. This Nahabe’s sarcophagus seemed even more richly decorated than the others. Elaborate gilded scrollwork and almost gothic decoration adorned armoured panels that were etched with scenes from the Nahabe religion and mythologized events from their history. On the suit’s left upper panel, armoured forms fought terrible monsters against an apocalyptic backdrop, whilst on the right, victorious Nahabe floated atop a pile of fallen enemies. The figure was armed with a single massive, pistoned blade arm on its right and three independently targetable gun appendages on its left.

Isaacs had the distinct impression that he was about to be addressed by a particularly heavily armed, miniature cathedral.

‘May I present The Lord Protector of the Order of Dead Suns,’ said the liaison. ‘He is our people’s most devout servant and foremost among our holy warriors.’

The massive form loomed over Isaacs and Anna and despite the lack of eyes, seemed to be scrutinising them. Finally, it spoke.

‘You are the one named Isaacs, are you not?’ it rumbled.

This was unusual, thought Isaacs. The Nahabe usually avoided the use of personal names. Such familiarity must signify the deepest respect.

‘My comrades and I have heard tell of you from your Speaker. Your bravery and your skill as a pilot set an example to all who would oppose the Shapers.’

‘Well, ah, thank you,’ Isaacs replied a little awkwardly and tried to suppress a grin as Anna rolled her eyes despairingly. ‘You know I just did what I thought was right at the time and well, I thought the Hidden Hand needed my help.’

He heard Anna snort behind him.

‘Modesty also. A truly brave warrior knows that his deeds speak for him. Caleb Isaacs, it would be an honour if you would join us in this most historic of events. For now our order must join battle against our ancient foe once more after a hiatus of many millennia.’

‘The uh, honour is ours I’m sure,’ Anna interjected. ‘Listen, if there are people aboard that ship who are still in control of their own bodies it’s up to us to deal with them before you guys blow them to pieces. Can we just agree to ask first and then shoot?’

‘Discretion and caution shall be our watchwords, lady,’ the Lord Protector replied. Anna got the distinct impression that had it been human it would have bowed theatrically at this point. ‘As you say, we must endeavour to recover any souls aboard that have not yet been lost, and deal out death and judgement to avenge those that have.’

At some signal the other Nahabe warriors advanced steadily and boarded the shuttle in a stately procession before carefully arranging themselves so that their massive forms stood facing one another in two lines down either side of the shuttle’s cabin. Once they had all boarded, the craft’s docking ramp folded shut once more and the vessel began to move. Though there was no means to see out of the craft, Isaacs and Anna could feel the cold metal decking shifting beneath their feet as they crossed the gulf between the Nahabe warship and the Casilinum.

After a few moments there was a gentle bump and then a series of whirrs and clicks as the shuttle’s docking point reconfigured itself to mate with the cruiser’s port airlock hatch, on the amidships superstructure. As it did so, the Nahabe made their way aft to the hatch and took up defensive positions around the armoured doors.

Once the link between the two vessels was secured and sealed, the inner airlock doors opened.

‘We shall override the safety mechanisms and open the outer doors,’ rumbled the Lord Protector. ‘It is the only way we can safely enter the vessel in strength and at speed. Sensors report breathable atmosphere inside.’

The outer doors opened, revealing the pitted grey armoured outer door of the human vessel’s airlock. CNV-2134 Casilinum was clearly stencilled on its surface along with a number of instructive symbols. One of the Nahabe approached the door and plunged a complex manipulator arm into the electronic lock mechanism. A series of metallic thuds resonated throughout the ship, then the door slid cleanly aside, admitting a breath of cool air.

The Nahabe, with Cal and Anna in their midst advanced quickly into the dimly lit chamber beyond. The same individual who had opened the last door now worked on the inner door in a similar fashion and also had this one open in moments. The Nahabe then charged into the interior of the Commonwealth vessel and immediately took up combat positions, their array of weapons creating overlapping fields of fire that covered all possible routes of attack. None came.

Isaacs and Anna followed them. The interior of the ship was dark save for a few strips of emergency lighting that filled the scene with a dim red light. The airlock they had just exited lay at a junction of corridors which stretched off to the left and right and straight ahead. There was also two banks of lifts to the other decks that were out of action due to the lack of power. All was silent save for the whirring of the Nahabes’ suits as sensors and gun barrels swept the corridors.

Isaacs gripped his gun tightly and peered into the gloom as Anna sighted hers down the corridor.

‘Hard to see anything in this,’ she commented. ‘We’re going to scare ourselves shitless just jumping at shadows.’

‘So, what’s our next move?’ said Isaacs to the Nahabe around him. ‘Where do you want to start our search?

‘According to the schematics we have available for this ship class, this main corridor leads to a central lift hub that contains equipment lifts large enough for groups of us to enter and access the bridge level decks,’ the Lord Protector intoned. ‘Once there we can gain direct access to internal sensors and other systems. It is also likely that if the crew are hostile to us, that they will congregate there and attempt to defend such a vital command position.’

‘That sounds about right,’ Isaacs replied. ‘Once we’ve taken them out we can look for any survivors hiding aboard.’

‘Correct. We move now.’

At a silent signal the assembled warriors began to move swiftly down the darkened corridor. They moved in carefully coordinated formation, each covering the other as they swept doorways and possible hiding places for enemies. Isaacs and Anna kept a watchful eye on the shadows ahead that danced in the lights from the Nahabe’s armoured suits.

‘Nothing,’ said Anna in a low voice amidst the oppressive silence. ‘This place is a fucking ghost ship. Jesus, it’s so quiet.’

‘Maybe there are no crew aboard,’ said Isaacs. ‘What if the Shapers killed them all and just took over the ship’s systems instead?’

‘No,’ said the Lord Protector. ‘We detected life signs aboard.’

‘Then where the fuck are they?’ hissed Isaacs.

‘They’ll find us soon enough I think,’ came the reply from another of the warriors. ‘They’re waiting for us.’

Anna suppressed a shudder, feeling the chill of fear creeping along her spine, the animal instinct that told her that she was being watched. As if in answer to her suspicions she saw a shadowy figure standing in the corridor ahead of them.

‘Up ahead!’ she cried, raising her gun to shoulder height and taking aim.

‘We see it,’ rumbled the Lord Protector, then more loudly it boomed: ‘We are the warriors of the Order of Dead Suns, holy warriors of the Nahabe and allies of humanity. Drop your weapon and approach us slowly, friend.’

At its words the figure let a pistol fall slowly from its grasp with a clatter and stepped slowly towards the assembled armoured forms with its arms raised. As the Nahabes’ suit lights illuminated the figure it revealed itself to be a middle aged man in Lieutenant’s uniform.

‘Please,’ he said. ‘Don’t hurt me. The Captain sent me to meet with you and negotiate the surrender of our ship. I don’t know where you came from, but you have us outgunned and as you can see, you have disabled our ship. For the sake of the crew I ask for mercy.’

‘It’s alright,’ said Isaacs. ‘We mean you no harm.’ Though as he said the words he kept his weapon firmly trained on the advancing man. ‘All we want to do is search the ship, and to talk to you. If you co-operate you are all free to go.’

‘Is that so?’ said the man.

‘Yes,’ Isaacs replied. ‘Listen I’m Cal, this is my wife Anna and we’re uh… free agents I guess. We’re working with the Nahabe here. What do they call you?’

The man’s expression remained blank, his eyes seemed unfocused. ‘Lieutenant,’ he said. ‘Lieutenant

Hawkins.’ The words came out flat and wrong, as if the man couldn’t remember his own name. He was very close now, within a few metres of the Nahabe vanguard. In the dim light Isaacs caught a glimpse of something black and metallic jutting from the back of his skull.

Before he could pull the trigger the man exploded.

Isaacs was thrown from his feet as the blast engulfed two of the lead Nahabe. He felt his head strike a bulkhead and struggled to rise, groggy from the blow. Two the aliens’ sarcophagi had been blown open by the plasma demolition charges that the man had concealed upon him. Three more reeled from the explosion, their armour distorted and scarred whilst the ceiling and floor were cratered from the closely confined blast.

His ears rang, a long drawn out screaming that drowned out all other noise. In the half light he desperately cast about for Anna and found her sprawled against the wall, fighting to rise to her feet, still clutching her rifle in a death-like grip, her eyes wild. He grabbed her then, hauled her upright and gripped his gun that had only remained on his person due to the strap that had caught around his elbow as he fell.

They staggered forward to the point of the explosion and Isaacs almost choked at the bloody ruin he saw. Two Nahabe suits had been cracked clean open by the blast, the contents of one mercifully vaporised in an instant. The other was not so lucky. The oh-so-fragile creature within writhed in agony, its flesh so badly mauled and pierced by shrapnel it was impossible to tell where the body ended and the suit’s mangled systems began. Isaacs realised now that the screaming he had heard had not entirely been due to the ringing in his ears. Of the Lieutenant there was no sign, save for the sprays of blood on walls and ceiling and the head, cleanly severed by the blast which had rolled some distance down the corridor, the alien machinery still implanted in the back of its skull now clearly visible.

Drunk from the shock and horror, Isaacs stumbled towards it and peered in disgust. Something like a fat, black centipede emerged from a hole in the back of the man’s skull into which it appeared to have burrowed. From the exposed end, a number of spindly antennas probed the air. Isaacs turned the skull over with the tip of his gun barrel and looked into the man’s face. The Lieutenant looked back at him and appeared to be forming his mouth into words before laughing silently without the benefit of lungs or vocal chords.

‘Jesus fucking Christ that thing’s still alive!’ he heard Anna cry, before her shots rang out. Muffled by his temporary deafness they sounded to Isaacs as if fired underwater. The skull shattered, and the thing that that had lain within it was torn asunder by the high velocity rounds.

He turned and saw the Lord Protector floating solemnly in front of his fallen comrade. A gun arm was raised solemnly to the shattered carapace and discharged once, ending its wearer’s suffering.

Isaacs and Anna had escaped the blast with only minor injuries – mainly from being thrown from their feet by the shockwave – and a ringing in their ears. The blast created by the demolition charges that the Lieutenant had been carrying had proved utterly lethal at close range, but those further away had escaped the worst, especially since the two lead Nahabe had taken the brunt of the explosion.

As Isaacs and Anna watched, each Nahabe solemnly raised their weapons in silent salute to the fallen. Doubtless they would grieve later, but for now there was grim business to attend to.

‘As I suspected,’ said the Lord Protector to the assembled Nahabe and humans. ‘The Shapers have made slaves of these people.’

‘Zombies more like,’ said Anna. ‘What the fuck was that in his head? Some sort of controlling device?’

‘Yes, exactly. As I’m sure you are aware, our enemy makes a habit of infiltrating other societies by implanting its parasitic machine agents within the host bodies of important individuals. However they lack the resources to employ such agents on a large scale. Each is essentially a semi-autonomous shard of the greater Shaper group sentience and thus the problems of distributed processing would present itself were they to spread this too thinly.’

‘Network lag?’ said Isaacs.

‘Yes. Even with their advanced hyperspace transmission technologies, spreading the core processing functions of the Shaper race over the entire galaxy would result in significant slow-down, or else we would all be their slaves already. Instead, in situations where they wish to take over a group of individuals, for example the crew of a ship, a single person or a handful of individuals are joined to form a processing node and linked to the core around a single agent. The rest are implanted with lesser devices that possess no other ability than the capacity for following orders.’

‘How do they

?’

‘Take their victims? The Shapers possess the ability to exploit the Heisenberg uncertainty principle via the same process we use in our translation drives though they have refined the technology to a much greater degree. Though they cannot translate agents inside the skulls of their victims – since such a process would cause the victim’s head to explode under the sudden pressure caused by the appearance of so much additional mass - they are able to place their agents nearby. The agent will be transported in an infant form only a few centimetres in length and then typically wait until the intended victim is asleep or otherwise incapacitated. It will then enter the host body via a suitable orifice and burrow its way into the creature’s brain which it then ingests, devouring the host’s memories and assuming their personality for the purpose of concealment. However in a scenario such as this, the agent will begin to use the host’s body to manufacture swarms of control parasites, modifying the host’s internal organs via the application of nanotechnologies that even we do not fully understand in order to produce hundreds, if not thousands of these parasites, which, if their intended victims are unable to fend them off, will burrow their way into their skulls and attach themselves to the brain stem, turning them into mere puppets of the nearest agent.’

‘Are they

are they aware of what is happening?’

‘Quite possibly yes, though they will be unable to do anything about it. They are restricted to merely spectating as their body is taken over. Brain death eventually occurs, though the parasite is able to keep the body functioning indefinitely. Removal of the parasite has never been successfully achieved.’

‘And the ship is full of these things?’

‘Yes, it seems so. The electromagnetic weapons we employed in disabling the ship will have had a temporarily disorientating effect upon them, hence the slow response, but we should expect them to make every effort to repel us.’

‘And the likelihood of any survivors?’

‘Not good. Even if anyone did succeed in evading the initial take-over of the ship, they will have been overpowered and killed by the others or forced to undergo implantation.’

‘So what now?’ said Anna. ‘What are we doing here if there’s no-one to rescue?’

‘We should still proceed to the bridge,’ said the Lord Protector. ‘We should attempt to retrieve the ship’s logs. This vessel has been to the Shaper core systems, and any information we can glean will be of use to us. We should still also attempt to retrieve examples of the parasites, instead of destroying them totally.’ The last comment seemed to be directed at Anna. ‘We should also try and capture the controlling agent and then once it has been removed we can scuttle the ship.’

‘Then what are we waiting for?’ said Isaacs. ‘Let’s get moving before all of those things wake up and come after us.’

As if in answer to his warning, a low creaking groan issued from the depths of the ship. Isaacs saw Anna bring her weapon up to a firing position.

‘Just the ship cooling down,’ he said. ‘With the power off, the temperature’s starting to drop. It’s just the sounds of the hull contracting.’

‘Yeah,’ said Anna uneasily. ‘I knew that.’

They trudged onwards into the bowels of the ship. The shadowy walls seemed to close in on them as the sounds of distant movement began to reverberate down from distant parts of the ship. Shuffling footsteps, running feet and dragging sounds echoed through the corridors. Isaacs and Anna kept a death-grip on their weapons as the ominous sounds began to come closer and more distinct. The Nahabe seemed on edge too, the deaths of their comrades no doubt fresh in their minds, their weapons twitching to sweep every corner and entrance for the enemy.

At last they reached the equipment lifts at the centre of the ship’s superstructure. Here, four main corridors converged around a central hub containing the large equipment lift and four clusters of smaller personnel lifts. Isaacs approached the control panel of the equipment lift and slapped his hand against it. With main power out across the ship the device was deactivated.

‘Nice plan by the way,’ he said drily to the Lord Protector. ‘Didn’t you guys figure that these wouldn’t be working after you fried the ship’s systems? I take it your suits are too bulky to take the stairs?’

‘Yes. However we can draw power from our suits to charge the primitive energy cells contained within the lift’s drive system. Two of us will undertake this task whilst the others stand guard.’

‘And how long will that take?’ Anna asked, conscious of the noises approaching out of the darkened spaces of the ship.

‘A few moments, please be patient,’ the Lord Protector replied, signalling to two of his warriors, who detached themselves from the group and set about removing access panels from around the lift shafts. The others formed a protective circle around them, weapons trained outwards.

‘Movement approaching from the aft section of the ship,’ rumbled one of the Nahabe armed with heavy weapons. ‘I’m detecting changes in heat and air pressure indicating the presence of a number of bodies.’

Isaacs peered into the gloom and saw what he could only describe as a mob walking steadily and calmly towards them. The remainder of the ship’s crew appeared to have raided the armoury and grabbed whatever they could find. Men and women with fixed expressions of calm determination walked towards them armed with all manner of military grade weapons, and when those had run out they had resorted to cutting and welding tools and even knives from the ship’s galley and lengths of off-cut metal from the maintenance bays.

‘Join us,’ echoed a voice over the ship’s public comm. system. ‘Join us, you poor pitiful creatures. What a thing it is to know such bliss, to belong so utterly to the whole.’

The mob began to run as one towards the waiting Nahabe and their human companions, who raised their weapons in unison and began to fire.

They were relentless. The weapons of the Nahabe scythed through the first rank of attackers like a hot knife through butter. Men and women were cleaved in two, blasted apart and burned and they still kept on coming, crawling and dragging themselves across the floor with bloody hands and the spurting stumps of limbs whilst those behind leapt over them, firing wildly with whatever they had to hand, snarling with animalistic fury amid the screams and howls of the fallen. Others with heavy weapons held back, clinging to the cover offered by doorways and bulkheads as they laid down supporting fire.

Isaacs and Anna sheltered behind the massive armoured forms of the Nahabe, using them as cover as they picked off those that the holy warriors had missed, unloading high velocity rounds into the crawling, snarling, blood slicked things that had once been the officers and crew of the Casilinum. Lead, depleted uranium and energy beams pulverised flesh and bone as rounds pinged off the armoured aliens.

The corridor had become a charnel house. The smell of burnt meat and cordite mixed with that of blood and the offal from spilled bowels. The Nahabe stood firm amid the carnage, inviolate, invulnerable to the storm of bullets and energy beams and the mangled, wretched things that still flung themselves at them with knives, cleavers, plasma welders and axes.

It had all been a diversion.

From the corridor leading to the ships bows, a blood curdling scream issued from a dozen throats as a mob of armoured humans began to charge. They were the ships compliment of Marines, attired in heavy combat armour for use in boarding actions. Armour that was now hung with belts of explosives, demolition charges, armour piercing and frag grenades.

Isaacs was the first to spot them. He wheeled around, cried and pointed at the approaching forms and began firing. The first man fell, his right knee spouting blood as the lower leg was blown off by Isaacs’ bullets. Before the man had hit the ground a dozen beams of energy caught it, setting the now screaming, suited figure ablaze. It slid forward, the polished surfaces of the suit providing little resistance against the smooth floor. The explosives he carried caught and detonated.

Isaacs could see or hear nothing for a moment. His senses completely overloaded he fell to his knees as another and then another suicide bomber was ripped apart prematurely by their own charges. He felt the hot blast buffet him, flinging him against the curving wall of the lift shaft, saw Anna lying on the floor, screaming with rage and fear, still firing, her face and clothes spattered with blood and viscera. He looked forward and saw more figures stagger and fall and bloom into explosions.

One made it through the firestorm. A single figure, blown forwards by the blast from one of his comrades, sailed through the air, arms windmilling. Isaacs saw the lone survivor as if in slow motion through the shell shock and disorientation. He raised his weapon and shot him clean through the head in mid air. At such close range the rounds burst the man’s head like a ripened fruit and the corpse, now almost decapitated save for the shattered eggshell of helmet and skull, thudded heavily to the ground and slid to a stop amid the pools of blood and body parts.

And then there was only the sound of sobbing. After a moment Isaacs realised it was him. He staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his face and clothes and pulled Anna up from the deck. She leant against him, her gun limp at her side.

‘Is that all of them?’ she muttered. ‘Jesus Christ, tell me we got them all.’

‘Not all,’ said the Lord Protector. ‘There is still the command staff to account for. We will find them, up there.’ He gesticulated with his blade arm towards the doors of the equipment lift, now slowly opening.

The ride up in the lift gave them all time to take stock of the situation, reload their weapons and prepare for whatever might be waiting for them on the bridge. Luckily, save for minor injuries and some superficial damage to the Nahabe’s armoured suits, the remaining members of the group had all escaped relatively unscathed. The Nahabe had also managed to salvage some of the parasitic creatures from the dead, wrenching the vile, writhing things from their bloody burrows and storing them in stasis containers for safe keeping within sealed compartments inside their armoured suits.

The lift rose, haltingly, as the Nahabe continued to feed power to its systems, until eventually it shuddered to a halt on the bridge level deck. Isaacs and Anna checked their weapons and held them ready as the doors slid unevenly open. The Nahabe too, floated poised and ready for anything that might be waiting for them.

There was no-one. They had arrived at another corridor hub identical to the one that they had just left. The main corridor to the bridge stretched off ahead into the gloom.

‘No-one here,’ said Anna. ‘Looks like we got them all down there. Either that or they’re all holed up on the bridge.’

Something moved at the corner of her vision then, a speck of darkness against the half-lit wall panelling. Then another, and another, and then swarms began to scuttle from the cracks, crevices and shadows along the floor, walls and ceiling until all available surfaces had come alive with them. They were all disappearing into the doorway that led to the ship’s bridge. The sounds of millions of tiny appendages and the rustling of crystalline carapaces created an eerie susurration in the quiet of the ship.

‘Jesus,’ said Isaacs. ‘Looks like we found the nest alright, and I never could stand cockroaches.’

‘We must go onward,’ said the Lord Protector. ‘Into the nest.’

‘We must?’

‘Yes.’

As they advanced, several of the Nahabe began to hose the scuttling Shaper creatures with arcing energies from their weapons that cleared swathes of the tiny constructs and left them twitching on the deck. Isaacs swore he heard each one give out a little enraged scream as it was fried. Yet as thousands were removed, thousands more scurried to take their place in the torrent of biomechanical insectoids. After a while, the scuttling creatures parted to let them through and then followed them, ever watchful, a sea of compound eyes glittering.

Still they advanced, into the darkened doorway that led into the bridge. As they entered, the lights from the Nahabe’s suits began to pierce the gloom and reveal a shape; a sculpted form that stood in the centre of the bridge and rose from floor to ceiling. It was indistinct and amorphous, until their lights played directly upon it. Anna gasped, Isaacs heard himself cry out in horror. They had found the command staff.

Half a dozen human forms were visible within the twisted mound of alien machinery that had fountained out from the body of the ship’s former captain who sat at the centre, still fixed into his command chair by the mass of gleaming technology. His body had become bloated with alien devices that swelled and pulsed within him, creating new orifices into which and from which spilled the vile parasites that had infested the ship. He had been transformed into a living factory for the creatures and they swarmed across his body. Fused to the disgusting mass were a number of bridge crew, who, infected with parasites, had willingly joined with him, allowing the machinery to envelop and absorb them. A tangle of machinery plugged into their skulls linked their brains to his through twisted, tangled crystalline pathways to form a processing node that now controlled the ship. From this node an almost organic mass of tendrils, roots and arteries snaked across the bridge until they linked into every system. Doubtless they now wound throughout the ship through conduits and pathways to invade its every corner.

The swarm of parasites was beginning to cover the distorted horror like flies on a rotting corpse, when suddenly it moved. The thing was trying to form words with what remained of the captain’s vocal chords whilst at the same time the same words issued from the ship’s comm. system.

‘They say ignorance is bliss,’ said the sibilant voice. ‘But true bliss comes from knowledge. Join with us. Do not resist. Join with us and experience such joy as you have never known.’

‘Pitiful creature,’ said the Lord Protector. ‘You are an affront to all sentient life in this galaxy and an insult to the memory of those whose bodies you have corrupted. We are the Order of Dead Suns. We carry with us the memory of those stars you extinguished in the past and the lives of those whose who cry for vengeance. Go tell your masters that we have returned before we dispatch you to the abyss!’

‘The abyss?’ said the voice. ‘You know nothing of the abyss. Why don’t you let me show you

?’

Isaacs saw movement outside beyond the slab-like bridge windows, the merest hint of a shimmer against the stars that began to resolve itself into the form of a Shaper vessel. Though still some distance off the bow Isaacs could tell that this vessel was several orders of magnitude larger than either of the two he had seen previously. Its arrival had not gone unnoticed by the two Nahabe gunspheres as space between the three vessels was suddenly filled with coruscating energies.

The Shaper node had taken advantage of their momentary distraction. From the corner of his eye, Isaacs saw questing tendrils begin to snake downwards from the ceiling above them. Dodging aside he brought his rifle up and sprayed the nearest ones with bullets, severing them.

‘We have to leave!’ cried Isaacs. ‘Now!’

‘We do,’ said the Lord Protector. ‘But first

.’

The Lord Protector moved forward and using his blade arm, sliced through the mass of alien machinery surrounding the captain’s head. Manipulator arms grabbed the violated orb which now screamed wordlessly as it was wrenched free. A panel in the Lord Protector’s armour opened and the head was safely stashed inside. Then as one, the Nahabe aimed their weapons at the bloated ruin that had once been the command staff of the CNV Casilinum, and opened fire with everything they had.

The retreat to the shuttle was little more than a desperate rout. Isaacs and Anna were pulled along by the Nahabe as they charged back the way that they had come, back down the equipment lift that moved with painful slowness, back down the corridors to the airlock, pausing briefly to salvage the bodies of their comrades and drag them into the waiting shuttle.

The craft’s airlock was barely closed when it catapulted itself across the void between the Casilinum and the gunsphere Blessed Nothingness amid the storm of energies and radiation that now began to lash the dead ship that they had left behind them.

Gradually the cruiser began to die, its hull torn open in a hundred places and battered by the guns of the Nahabe vessels. They focused their energies on the vessel’s power-plant, burrowing down through hull plating and bulkheads until they reached the casing of the main reactor and emptied its contained energies into the void. The blast ripped the vessel apart in a flash, the superstructure and bow section, now partially molten from the blast, began a long erratic tumble as it was rent by secondary explosions from energy cells and ammunition stores detonating from the sudden intense heat.

Isaacs and Anna saw none of this as the Nahabe shuttle almost crash landed into the docking bay of the Blessed Nothingness.

‘My ship!’ Isaacs cried as he picked himself off the deck. ‘What about the Profit Margin!? What about Anita?’

‘Your ship is safe,’ said the Lord Protector. She jumped back to Port Royal as soon as the Shaper ships arrived. Now we must leave this place and tell others of what we have learned.’

‘Well what the hell did we learn!?’ cried Isaacs. ‘Your men died and all we got was a handful of bugs!’

‘They will be useful to us in time. But you yourselves learnt something this day,’ said the Nahabe, looming over him. ‘You are the first humans to see that the Shapers can be killed. We also know that any ship that was under Cox’s command in Hadar cannot be salvaged. That, I think, is a valuable lesson for anyone.’

Isaacs and Anna nodded weakly in agreement.

‘Now we must leave this place,’ said the Nahabe. ‘Other ships are approaching and we will be outgunned. But the holy war has begun, my friends. You should remember the first moment that you struck back against the enemy. The tide will turn.’

Chapter 34

Chen tensed herself as the Churchill burst out of hyperspace dangerously close to the Chiron asteroid base. The irregular mountain of rock floated in the shadows out here at the limit of the sun’s glare. The sentries had been waiting for them. The darkness was immediately punctured by flashes of light and piercing beams from dozens of automated weapon emplacements in orbit around the base that lanced and tore at the carrier’s heavy shielding.

With cool efficiency Chen’s crew got to work, responding in kind to the assault as the rapid firing laser turrets that studded the length of the Churchill opened up on the wealth of new targets, causing them to blossom and fade in an ever expanding shell of debris at the carrier pressed on toward its objective.

The turrets were the least of their worries. Although deadly to fighters and other smaller craft, even a sustained assault such as this from the array of automated gun platforms could not realistically expect to deter a large modern warship such as the Churchill. The real threat lay with the sphere of outer defences: four Titan class destroyers were moving from the sentry stations that they had held about the asteroid and were coming about to face the incoming threat under full power. Lieutenant Commander Singh was already informing her of the energy spikes that signified that the vessels were rapidly powering up their weapons and preparing to fire. The closest vessel, the Manzikert was already close enough to engage.

The house at the end of Geary Street was old. Centuries of earth tremors and the occasional full blown quake had left it a mass of crooked angles and bowed beams. It was doubtful that a truly straight edge or right angle remained in the structure. The fact that it and the sloping row of bay windowed houses in which it sat was still standing after almost five hundred years was little short of a miracle. The off-white paintwork, meanwhile, was discoloured and peeling slightly from the effects of the damp San Francisco climate.

Chen was home. She rapped on the door with slightly trembling hands and heard the unmistakeable sounds of her father’s footsteps on the floorboards as he made his way down the hallway to the door.

The door opened slowly and her father stood blinking in the harsh mid-day light with a mixture of recognition and bewilderment on his face before he broke into a broad smile. He looked older than she remembered. There was a little more grey showing in what had once been a thick, black, head of hair and his features seemed more careworn. The vibrant sparkle was still in his eyes though.

‘So, you came back at last,’ he said matter-of-factly in his resonant baritone voice. ‘It’s been far too long Michelle.’ He stepped forward then and held her close for a moment. ‘Come inside. Let me call your mother.’ He started into the dimly lit interior of the family home. She followed him inside.

‘Admiral! The Manzikert it targeting weapons and preparing to fire!’ cried Singh.

Chen’s heart was in her mouth. Those were their own ships out there. Their crews were comrades in arms; loyal servicemen and women who had been drawn from a swathe of human settled worlds to keep the peace and hold back the darkness. Or at least they once had been. Maybe they were still loyal, maybe they were just misguided rather than enslaved. Chen clung to that hope. She wanted to give them a chance to back down, to see through the lies that they had been fed. She wanted to give herself the chance to avoid firing the first shots in a civil war.

‘Andrews,’ she ordered. ‘Begin broadcasting in the clear and identify ourselves. Tell them that if they surrender that they will not be harmed. Tell them that they will not get a second chance.’

She gritted her teeth and then added: ‘Gunnery; target the Manzikert and begin powering the Arkari cannon. Helm; align us directly with that destroyer so that we can get a clear shot. Commander Haldane, order all squadrons to stand by.’

Andrews turned to her. ‘Admiral there is no response from any of the rebel ships or Chiron itself.’

‘Keep trying. There may be somebody on board those vessels who will listen.’

‘Admiral I

’

‘I said, keep trying!’

‘The Manzikert is preparing to fire!’ Singh cried. ‘Detecting energy spikes from her main guns.’

‘Fuck!’ Chen swore angrily under her breath and quickly collected herself despite the anger that now gripped her. Either the captain of the Manzikert was no longer entirely human, or else he was monumentally rash and stupid. Either way he left her with no choice. He had condemned his crew to death.

‘Gunnery!’ she barked. ‘Open fire on the Manzikert! All guns!’

She followed her father into the dimly lit lounge. It was exactly the same as she remembered it: furnishings that had been fashionable twenty years ago, family photos and dusty ornaments and furniture that had sagged from overuse. Through the bay windows at the back of the house she could see San Francisco Bay now clear of mist, a sliver of blue beyond the rooftops backed by hazy dun hills, the water scored with the white lines of craft and punctuated with the distinctive outline of Alcatraz Island. She sat down carefully on the creaking sofa, habitually choosing the same spot at the right hand end that she had always sat in as a child.

‘You want some tea?’ said her father. She nodded mutely and he shuffled off into the kitchen across the hall. She heard him talking excitedly on the phone then clattering around for a moment before he returned with a laden tray containing a pot and two tea bowls which he placed carefully in front of her on the low coffee table. Her father sat down next to her with some care and winced, as if his back was bothering him.

‘You okay, Dad?’ she said, a note of concern in her voice.

‘Me, yeah of course. Nothing to worry about. Did it playing golf, of all things. And you?’ He looked directly at her.

‘Hard to say,’ she replied.

‘Uh huh,’ he responded. ‘I know my daughter well enough to know that something’s up if she says that she isn’t sure of something. Are things not all well aboard ship? Of course we read your emails, infrequent though they are

’

‘Sorry Dad, I don’t always have much time.’

‘I know you don’t Michelle, but believe me your Mother and I do wonder what you’re up to. You were all over the news when war broke out and then these last two years: nothing at all.’

‘I know, I’m sorry. I

I can’t talk about it I’m afraid.’

‘Hmm, well. We’re proud of you Michelle. Our daughter: an Admiral! I gather you gave those damn reptiles what for. Your grandfather would have thanked you for that, after what they did to him.’

‘It wasn’t just about revenge Dad, I had hundreds of men and women under my command and I had my orders.’

‘You did us all proud. Believe me when I say that your mother and I were very glad that you came through that experience in one piece. So, two years of almost nothing and then you appear on our doorstep. I assume you want to talk about something in particular.’

‘I was in town Dad, and well, I figured this was as good a time as any to come and see you.’

‘I see … well believe me when I say we appreciate it. But I can tell you’re holding something back.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Things are

. things are getting pretty bad. Worse, than I suspect most people realise.’

‘I watch the news, you know. You think there’s going to be a coup?’

‘I think there’s going to be some sort of major attack, yes.’

‘If you ask me, that Morgan has a screw loose. His story about the government being in league with aliens sounds like load of horse-shit to me. Rheinhold may be a crooked son of a bitch but that’s as far as it goes.’

‘It is a load of horse-shit. What Morgan said was the exact opposite of the truth. He and his followers are under the influence of an alien race that we can barely comprehend. Things are about to get very bad indeed Dad, and I

’ her voice broke slightly then. ‘I just

wanted to see you both because I wasn’t sure when I’d ever get another chance.’

Chen watched with a mixture of awe and horror as the destroyer split apart along its length. The power of the Arkari cannon slung beneath the belly of the Churchill rent space apart and with it, the structure of the Manzikert. The ship ripped apart like tinfoil, spilling its contents into space in a rapidly expanding wave that rippled along the length of the vessel as space-time itself convulsed along the beam, shattering and twisting hull plating and blowing the ship apart from the inside out.

Chen gripped the arms of her command chair tightly and reminded herself that what she had done was a mercy, that they were no longer human, that the men and women aboard that ship would most likely have begged her to commit this act. It didn’t make it any easier. She had still fired the first shots. Open conflict between Commonwealth ships had begun.

As the vessel’s reactor finally ruptured and detonated in a blinding flash, she turned away from the glare and felt tears of regret sting her eyes. But there was no time to pause and mourn those who had died at her hand; two of the three other sentry destroyers were coming about, bringing weapons to bear. Like the Manzikert, they had not responded to hails from the Churchill, assuming combat postures even before the carrier had emerged from its jump. The Barbarossa and the Agrippa had been transferred from Cox’s command at Spica along with the Manzikert.

Her officers clamoured for her attention. They needed her to command them and lead them into the fight. Scrolling data, whirling vectors and targeting icons filled her view through her HUD. One ship, for now, hung back. The Trebia was staying out of the fight. There was still hope at least.

Her mother sighed as she sat down opposite her daughter. ‘You know I never did see the point of us spreading across the stars like this. We should have fixed things here on Earth before we did that. All we did was take our existing problems and just

magnify them a thousand-fold.’

Chen had scrutinised her mother as she had entered the house. She had been a petite, elegant young woman and some of that poise had carried over into late middle age, though her carefully arranged hair was now touched with silver and the lines around her eyes had increased since she’d last seen her. Her make-up and dress were still impeccable, even though she’d only been out shopping. She’d never wholly approved of her daughter’s decision to join the Navy. Even now Michelle could sense her mother’s slight distaste at the sight of her uniform.

‘It’s a bloody mess, that’s for certain,’ her mother added. ‘I’m just sorry that you had to be involved again my dear.’

‘In my position I could hardly not be involved, Mother,’ Michelle replied.

‘Civil wars never end well. You would do well to stay out of things.’

‘This is about more than just internal strife and politics. This could mean the end of everything, both out there and down here. I have to be involved if I can make a difference.’

‘And if you’re killed or captured? What then?’

‘Then I died doing something I believed in.’

‘It’s no comfort for us. Two years Michelle! Two years and barely a word from you! We were worried sick, with the war and everything

’

‘Jesus, you don’t think I would if I could have? Do you have any idea what it’s like out there? Well do you? We spend weeks at a time on silent running or out of range of any public hypercom nodes. I can’t just fire off an email when I feel like it. Not that I have nearly enough time to myself. I

.’ She threw up her hands in despair she couldn’t believe this, barely an hour had passed and they were slipping back into their old roles. Her mother was talking to her as though she were an errant teenager who’d stayed out too late on a school night.

‘Your mother is just worried about you,’ said her father. ‘As were we all. Look, I know you can take care of yourself and that you’re busy, but us old folks stuck back here on boring old Earth would like to hear something from you once in a while.’

‘It isn’t boring, it’s wonderful’ she said. ‘Earth is humanity. It’s everything… everything I fight for. I just wish sometimes that you could see that.’

The Barbarossa and the Agrippa had rapidly changed tactics upon the destruction of the Manzikert. Instead of charging straight towards the Churchill they had both changed course, heading off on high speed flanking manoeuvres to split the carrier’s fire and make it impossible to engage both vessels with the Arkari cannon, which was still recharging its accumulators from the shot that had taken out the Manzikert. Chen would be presented with a dilemma: if she turned to engage one with that deadly weapon the carrier’s engines – and the twin gaps in the shields they presented – would be left exposed to fire from the other vessel.

She had no doubt now that both ships were under Shaper control. Such a tactic was bound to result in one of the ships being sacrificed in order to score the kill. No sane human commander would contemplate this. She needed to distract one ship whilst she killed the other with the Churchill’s more conventional weapons, a process that would take longer than the single shot kill offered by the Arkari cannon.

‘Commander Haldane,’ she said. ‘Launch wings Alpha through Theta. Delta and Gamma’s torpedo bombers are to target the engines of the Barbarossa whilst Alpha and Beta take out rearwards facing anti-fighter turrets.’

‘Yes ma’am,’ Haldane replied crisply then began relaying orders.

‘Helm,’ Chen added. ‘Once all craft have cleared the launch bay, advance to engage the Agrippa at close range.’

She watched the sparks of light that were the engines of the launching fighters speed away from the bows of the Churchill before the thrust of the main engines powered the ship forwards. The ship began to turn to engage the hostile destroyer which even now was angling itself to bring as many of its guns to bear as possible on the advancing carrier.

‘Status of our main cannon?’ she queried.

‘Capacitors are at twenty five percent and charging,’ Haldane replied. ‘Reactors are holding steady. Gunnery reports all other primary weapons are charged and ready to fire.’

‘We need to get closer,’ Chen replied. ‘We need to take out the Agrippa quickly and cleanly.’ As she watched, the range on her HUD’s targeting indicator counted steadily down. The Churchill was still outside the optimum firing range and Chen wanted to get in close and use the full power of her ship’s weapons.

‘Admiral, our fighter wings report that they have engaged the enemy,’ Andrews relayed from the comm. ‘The Barbarossa is sustaining heavy damage to its aft quarter.’

‘Excellent,’ Chen replied. ‘Commander Singh, any news on the Trebia?’

‘She’s still holding station Admiral, though the vessel has now powered its weapons.’

‘What the hell is going on over there?’ Haldane muttered.

‘A certain amount of indecision,’ Chen replied. ‘I’d say that they can’t make up their minds.’

‘Admiral,’ gunnery reported. ‘We are now within optimal firing range, requesting permission to fire.’

‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘Hold your fire.’

‘Ma’am?’

‘Admiral, the Agrippa is firing!’ Singh reported as searing beams of energy leapt from the warship’s turrets to lash against the forward shields of the Churchill. ‘Shields are down to eighty percent. No physical damage.’

‘Thank you Commander,’ she replied drily. The distance to the target was now fifteen kilometres and dropping rapidly. ‘All guns: target the Agrippa’s engines and prepare to fire on my command. Helm, increase our speed by one third. Comms, signal that they have one last chance to stand down!’

‘Aye,’ Andrews replied. Chen saw her shake her head a few moments later.

‘Status on our attack wings?’

‘The Barbarossa has come to a complete stop. Looks like we got lucky. She’s having to restart her main engines. Four fighters and two torpedo bombers are down.’

‘Range to the Agrippa is now ten kilometres!’ gunnery reported. The shields were now reduced to nearly thirty percent. Before long even the Churchill would begin to take damage from the onslaught and Chen had no illusions about what the weapons of a Titan class destroyer could do to an unprotected vessel.

The Agrippa was beginning to loom larger in the forward viewing ports. Chen could clearly pick out the superstructure and the numerous armoured turrets that spat deadly energies towards her ship. The gunmetal grey destroyer gleamed brightly from reflected sunlight. She had commanded a vessel just like it once, a proud ship of the line, crammed with brave officers and crew who served her loyally. It made her sick to her stomach to imagine them enslaved by an alien, un-knowable enemy. What she was about to do was a merciful act. She would take revenge for them all.

‘Gunnery control!’ she barked. ‘Open fire on the Agrippa.’

‘Firing, aye!’ came the curt response.

At once, the banks of turrets along the Churchill’s hull opened up in unison, delivering a searing blow of concentrated energy against the aft quadrant of the Agrippa. The more modern weapons of the carrier tore into the destroyer’s shields reducing them by one third within a few moments.

‘Keep the pressure on,’ Chen commanded. ‘Helm, swing us round the rear of the vessel but keep us pointed at her. I want to be able to use as many weapons as possible. Gunnery; status of the Arkari cannon?’

‘Forty five per cent and charging.’

‘Come on

come on

’ she muttered to herself and ground her teeth with frustration as the destroyer continued to lash back at them with everything she had.

‘Engineering, re-route additional power to the forward shields, we’re losing them,’ Haldane ordered as their power dropped ominously below ten percent. Another few more moments and the carrier would start to take damage. They were less than five kilometres from the destroyer now as the Churchill slewed past it, heading for the vessel’s rear, the two vessels joined by coruscating lines of fire.

‘Admiral our wings are returning to the Churchill, they’ve expended all useful ordnance and have achieved their objectives,’ Haldane reported.

‘The Barbarossa is drifting, she only has manoeuvring thrusters. Her main drives are still offline,’ Singh added.

‘Excellent, alert our deck crews to receive our squadrons, Mr Haldane. Helm, make sure we shield those ships with our mass as they come in, they won’t survive long against the Agrippa’s guns.’

Suddenly there was a flash from the destroyer and an arcing of bright energies.

‘Admiral, the Agrippa’s aft shields have completely failed!’ Singh reported. ‘Our weapons are now impacting the hull.’

‘Lucky break for us,’ Haldane commented. ‘This’ll be over in moments.’

With the aft shields gone, the Churchill’s weapons flayed the hull plating from engine section of the Agrippa, tearing into the housing around the propulsion systems and main reactor. Its demise was only a matter of time. A fireball erupted from the rear of the vessel, growing in brightness and intensity to consume it. The superstructure, forward gun decks and bow section remained relatively intact as they tumbled forwards, wracked with minor explosions and trailing debris, systems now suddenly dead. Chen wondered about the trapped things within, wondered if they felt fear at their inevitable deaths in the freezing vacuum. Did they feel anything? Were they any more than automatons? Did the greater Shaper whole feel any pain or loss as these motes of its consciousness were extinguished? She hoped that they did. She hoped that pain and loss and sorrow were as much a part of the Shaper mind as hers as she ordered her crew to turn the main guns of her ship onto the surviving fragments of the Agrippa and obliterate them.

‘Look, I shouldn’t have to justify myself to you,’ Chen said angrily to her mother. ‘I want my life to mean something, to be part of something greater than me, something lasting.’

‘What you have become,’ her mother spat, ‘is a killer. You have the blood of thousands on your hands, the blood of innocents even! We know all about what happened at Urranakar. Is that what Earth means to you? Something worth killing for?’

‘If that’s what it takes, then yes,’ Chen replied. ‘Sometimes force is necessary to protect what we cherish. But I admit that I made mistakes at Urranakar.’

‘And what is the point of cherishing something if you destroy its ideals in the process? Your father and I remember the early days of the Commonwealth, when it was founded on hope and a new future for humanity among the stars. You and your ilk have made it into little more than an armed camp.’

‘Out of necessity! Do you think the K’Soth would have given in to reasoned debate?’

‘Some say that they were provoked, that we simply never took the opportunity to understand them, that we could have reached an accommodation.’

‘No, no we really couldn’t have. Believe me.’

‘They’re not all savages. There are many individuals within their society who secretly despise the regime. I’ve seen countless accounts of

’

‘But they’re not the ones in control mother, they’re a tiny minority. They’re the ones who are publicly tortured to death for the amusement of the crowds! Jesus Christ, you should have asked your own father about this! He knew well enough what it meant to stand against them!’

‘Your grandfather never spoke of the war, and don’t you drag him into this!’

‘Why not? He’d be proud of what I’ve become! He’d have been cheering me on as I sent those vile creatures straight back to whatever hell they crawled out of! I became who I am partly because I was proud of him, proud of how he’d served and the bravery that he’d shown, oh yes I saw the medals that you tried to hide because you thought it was a bad example. But I wanted to become him and I wanted to earn him some payback!’

‘Michelle,’ her mother said after a few moments. ‘Did you ever consider that we stood in your way because we were afraid that you would become like him?’

They were heading towards the stricken Barbarossa now, which was struggling to orientate itself to bring its weapons to bear. They left the debris field that was the remains of the Agrippa tumbling in their wake.

Chen watched the other destroyer grow from a speck against the star-field into a recognisable shape. The wallowing ship was trailing a faint cloud of gases - vented from the damaged systems in its aft section.

‘Admiral the Trebia is moving!’ Singh cried. ‘She is signalling the Barbarossa and locking weapons onto us. The Trebia’s guns will be in range within four minutes.’

‘God damn it!’ spat Haldane. ‘What the hell is going on onboard that ship?’

‘Looks like they made up their minds,’ Chen replied. ‘Comms, signal to the Trebia that they will meet the same fate as the Agrippa if they attempt to engage us. Any communications from the Barbarossa?’

‘None, ma’am,’ Andrews replied. ‘And their comm. is operational. I can detect encrypted traffic passing between them and the Trebia.’

‘I’d say it’s safe to assume that the crews of both these ships must be under Shaper control,’ Haldane commented. ‘Any sane human captain would be seeking terms by now after what just happened to the Agrippa. The Barbarossa and the Trebia can’t expect to win this fight.’

‘But they’re still a threat until we take them out,’ Chen replied. ‘We don’t know how badly damaged the Barbarossa’s engines are. If they come back on-line she can still fight. We can’t take that chance. We have to take her out. However, I would suggest that we first deal with the greater threat that the Trebia presents us.’

‘Then we turn our attentions to the Barbarossa once she’s out of the way,’ Haldane added grimly.

‘Quite. Gunnery. Status of the cannon?’

‘Charged and ready to fire on your command, Admiral,’ came the reply.

‘Good. Helm, change course and advance towards the Trebia. Ahead full. Mr Singh, keep a careful eye on the Barbarossa . Alert me at once if it looks like she might be about to rejoin the fight.’

The ship swung to face the distant, dully glinting speck of the Trebia, the destroyer illuminated by the faint blue glow of its engines as it charged head-on towards the Churchill.

‘How are our pilots doing?’ said Chen.

‘Good,’ Haldane replied. ‘We suffered only a handful of losses during the attack on the Barbarossa and we’ve recovered all remaining craft. Alpha, Beta and Theta wing have almost completed rearming and are ready to go.’

Excellent, thought Chen, she could use the Beta and Theta wings’ torpedo bombers to further pummel the already foundering Barbarossa.

‘Have Beta and Theta wing launch from the aft catapults as we advance,’ she ordered. ‘Tell them to return to the Barbarossa and take its engines apart.’

‘Aye, sir.’

She could pick out the form of the Trebia without the magnification the HUD offered her. Head on, the twin, knife-like keels formed a V shape beneath the superstructure that ended in a vicious cutting laser at the apex. The barrel of that weapon was pointing straight at her. Its operator was merely waiting for the moment when the Churchill came within range. They wouldn’t get that chance.

‘Comms, hail the Trebia. Tell them one final time that if they don’t stand down that they will be destroyed.’

‘Aye,’ replied Andrews, then spoke urgently into her mic. ‘Trebia, Trebia this is the Churchill, break off your attack at once or you will met with deadly force. Surrender and you will not be harmed. The orders you have been issued with are illegal and invalid. Trebia please respond.’

The two ships continued to advance towards one another. There was no response from the destroyer.

‘Range to target is twenty kilometres,’ gunnery commented, though Chen could clearly see that from her HUD. ‘We are well within optimal firing distance for the Arkari cannon.’

‘Wait,’ said Singh. ‘Something’s not right; the Trebia has stopped targeting us.’

‘Are you sure?’ Chen replied.

‘Positive, though the weapons are still fully powered.’

‘Could be a ruse,’ said Haldane. ‘Something to make us lower our guard.’

‘Could be,’ Chen responded. ‘Andrews, hail them again.’

‘Aye, Admiral. Trebia, Trebia please respond. What is your status?’

There was no reply.

‘Trebia please respond.’

‘We’re wasting valuable time,’ said Haldane. ‘Admiral we should destroy the ship whilst we have the opportunity.’

‘No,’ Chen replied. ‘I think we need to give them a chance.’

‘Wait!’ cried Andrews. ‘The Trebia is hailing us, audio only.’

A voice came across the comm.; a man’s. He spoke haltingly as if out of breath and desperate.

‘Churchill this is Commander Hersch, XO of the Trebia. Captain Moore has been relieved of command. Those of us still loyal to Earth have regained control of the ship. We have the bridge locked down. Please be advised that gunnery control is still contested. We are attempting a lock out of all fire control systems.’

‘Roger that Trebia,’ Chen replied. ‘We will despatch a contingent of marines to assist.’

‘Negative! The fighter defence grid has been set to auto. Any boarding attempt will be shot out of the sky until we can regain full control of gunnery. I’d advise you to retreat to a safe distance outside of weapons range and concentrate on the Barbarossa until we can deactivate the ship’s weapons.’

‘Roger that Trebia.’ She ordered helm to back off from the destroyer. ‘Our primary objective here is to rescue the President. Do you have any information as to his current status?’

‘I know that he’s the one giving the orders here. We were under direct Presidential orders to attack any ships that approached, including other Navy vessels and we were told to expect re-enforcements. Captain Moore followed those orders without question, but I’ve always had my doubts.’

Chen remained silent, horrified by what she had heard. It had been a vain hope at best, but now the President belonged to the enemy. She wondered how it had happened. Had he struggled in his restraints? Or had they got to him whilst he slept in his makeshift cell?

‘Trebia, were these transmissions verified? You’re sure it really was him?’

She heard Hersch swallow heavily before he spoke. ‘Yeah, I uh, had one of ensigns analyse them, to see if they’d been faked in any way, and I’m sorry to say that they were real alright. You know when I saw them I couldn’t believe that it really was him telling us to fire on our own people. Made me sick to my stomach. I guess we ended up on the wrong side.’

‘Transmit them to us, we need to see them.’

‘Roger that.’

Chen saw Andrews turn and nod to her in acknowledgement of a successful download.

‘How bad is it, on your ship?’

‘Most of the crew are still loyal to me. Captain Moore and a few senior officers remain loyal to Morgan, but it looks like our entire contingent of marines have turned on us as well as key technical staff. We’re being locked out of numerous key systems as we speak and engineering is barricaded. The marines are holding gunnery, but they can’t stay there forever.’

Haldane leaned over. ‘Smart tactics,’ he commented. ‘Gain control of key people to keep the rest in line.’

‘At least we know that some ships can be persuaded to switch to our side,’ Chen replied.

‘There’s more though, Admiral’ Hersch continued. ‘We found one or two of Moore’s men killed in combat from rounds to the head. There were… things inside, trying to get out.’ She heard a shudder in his voice.

‘Shapers,’ Chen replied. ‘Isolate or destroy any that you find. Not all of those who are still holding out may be host to such things and may simply be following orders of those who are, but I’d say there’s been a contingency plan in place from the start to prevent any attempt to wrest control of the ship from them.’

‘Couldn’t agree more,’ Hersch replied. ‘Anyone who hasn’t realised that they’re on the wrong side is too dumb to live anyway. They don’t get second chances.’ There was a pause, and then. ‘Looks like the Barbarossa just went down.’

Chen accessed a rearwards camera and saw the broken shape of the destroyer, snapped in two by the force of an internal explosion. Probably the primary magazine, she noted grimly. One of her pilots must have got lucky.

‘Our wings report a successful kill,’ Haldane said. ‘They’re returning to the Churchill.’

‘Have our deck crews ready to receive them.’ Chen replied. ‘Trebia, we’re going to take a look at these transmissions and decide on our next course of action.’

She looked at the destroyer now receding through the forward bridge windows as the Churchill backed off to beyond the range of its guns.

‘Roger that Churchill, good hunting,’ said Hersch. ‘My advice: destroy the base with Rheinhold in it, or whatever the hell that thing is that used to be him.’

‘Michelle, your grandfather was traumatised by the war; not only by what he witnessed, but the things it made him do, the things he had to do at the time…’

Chen looked at her mother and saw the pain in her eyes.

‘What do you mean?’

‘During the closing stages of the war when things were looking pretty bad for us your grandfather’s cruiser was escorting a civilian convoy out of the battle zone in the hope of getting them to safety when they were attacked by a squadron of Imperial corvettes. It was… sport really, for the K’Soth. They disabled the engines on the transports and left them floating dead in space. You grandfather knew that his cruiser couldn’t hope to hold out against such odds and that there were no re-enforcements on the way. He also knew that the K’Soth had disabled the transports on purpose and that they would board the ships and use the passengers for sport, that each would be murdered for their amusement.’

‘So what happened?’

‘He turned the guns of his ship onto the transports and destroyed them, killing over three thousand people in the process instead of letting them fall into enemy hands.’

‘And the K’Soth ships?’

‘Your grandfather ordered his ship to jump away. With the transports gone there was no need for them to stay and fight the K’Soth vessels. He saved his crew. It was only afterwards that he found out that a destroyer squadron had been approaching from around the limb of a nearby gas giant and his ship had never detected them owing to battle damage to its sensors. They arrived barely ten minutes after he had jumped. He didn’t have all the information he needed and as a result, a lot of people died.’

‘He never told me this, never. But how could he have known at the time?’

‘No he never told you. Why would he expose a child to something like that? He was a good man and it haunted him for years, ate away at him like a cancer; the guilt and the curse of hindsight.’

‘Are you absolutely sure that these transmissions are genuine?’ said Chen to Singh and Andrews in the privacy of her office. Haldane was the only other person in the room.

‘Yes ma’am, Ensign Andrews and I have run every sort of data and image analysis technique available to us. As far as we can tell it’s genuine alright.’

‘As far as you can tell? I need something concrete, Commander.’

‘It’s the best we can do with what we have available. With a supercomputer and several days to spare we could be more thorough but we don’t have the time or those kind of resources.’

‘Or that sort of time. I need to think. Thank you, you are all dismissed.’

Singh and Andrews left smartly. Haldane hung back.

‘Admiral, if I may, what options are you considering?’

‘Whether to go ahead with the landing, or whether to use the Churchill to destroy the facility.’

‘Those transmissions could be a desperate ruse to get us to kill our own President along with his cabinet. Look at it from the Shapers’ point of view: they know that they can’t defend this facility. ‘

‘Don’t you think I hadn’t considered that from the start? We have no way of telling whether the XO of the Trebia is telling the truth or even is who he says he is.’

‘We need to get a team in there and try to scan him, if it turns out that he is infected or that the information is false, we use the Arkari cannon to level the place and then destroy the Trebia.’

‘We still risk losing the team, though admittedly I don’t think we have much choice. Okay Commander, make it happen. Use what information we have on the layout of the facility to locate likely holding locations. We’ll use the Churchill’s guns to reduce the defences and get the team in safely, but once they’re in there, they’re on their own. We lose contact with them and we assume the worst.’

Chen stared over the bows as the face of Chiron was peppered with a set of fresh new craters. Blossoms of light flared against the dark surface as munitions from the Churchill’s torpedo tubes and rail guns hit home, annihilating emplacements and tracking stations. As the bombardment ceased, one of the modified, gun-heavy Spec Ops drop ships sped from the bow catapults and was quickly lost against the looming bulk of Chiron, upon which the base clung, limpet-like, to the rock. They were close enough to discern its shape – a rough hexagon of linked modules attached to a cluster of landing pads and a separate structure holding the base’s fusion reactor. The Churchill’s gun crews had been very careful to avoid hitting that.

Chen switched to maximum magnification and followed the small craft for a moment. She saw the distant flashes as it swept the landing zone with fire. From this distance she couldn’t see the ship flare and come to a sudden bone jarring stop before it disgorged a dozen black-suited figures.

She listened intently to the transmissions from the team as they forced their way into the complex through an emergency airlock. Once they were inside she could hear their clipped, businesslike tones as they swept deserted rooms by quarters and found nothing.

As the operatives headed for the brig she could sense from their vocal nuances that they were becoming tenser. The men were picking up the sounds of other beings in the complex, as if something were shadowing their movements. One man reported movement down a side corridor. Another detected heat traces though the walls ahead.

Chen turned to Andrews.

‘Any chance of getting a visual feed?’ she asked.

‘Signal’s rather weak,’ the ensign replied. ‘I’m picking up some sort EM interference, though I can’t pin down the source. My guess is that they’re trying to jam our comms with the base’s outdated equipment. Patching though a feed from Captain Aziz, I’ll see what I can do to clean it up.’

‘Thank you Ensign’ Chen replied. Now she rode on the man’s shoulder. Technically she could have whispered in his ear too and issued orders, but like most Spec Ops personnel, the captain and his men were best left to operate independently. The last thing he needed right now was her distracting him. Through the electronic snow of the EM interference she could discern the drab, grey interior of the base. Cheaply constructed and poorly maintained, the discoloured wall panels barely served to conceal the ducts and cabling behind them that stretched across the gaps where panels had been removed and never replaced and hung in loose bunches from the holes left by missing ceiling tiles.

‘Approaching the brig now,’ Aziz commented as he reached a sturdier looking door than the others and shouldered his weapon. ‘Pearson, Rockwell, blow that hatch.’

Two other figures stepped forward through the gloom and got to work on the hatch, placing charges around the rim, before quickly retreating. She heard the calls of ‘Fire in the hole,’ before there was a blinding flash and the hatch collapsed inwards in one piece.

There were shapes inside, humanoid figures that quickly resolved themselves into the forms of men and women as they hurled themselves forward toward the Spec Ops team. The first through the gap had a grenade in each hand.

That was when the firing started.

The Spec Ops drop-ship lurched crazily away from the asteroid base. The struggling figures of the base’s enslaved crew clung to the retracting landing gear and wing weapon mounts even as said bodies finally succumbed to the destructive effects of exposure to total vacuum. The vessel fired parting shots from its rearwards facing cannons, immolating the section of base from which the surviving members of the team had made their escape.

The mission had been a failure. Under assault from wave upon wave of suicidal attackers the Spec Ops team had fought their way into the brig, only to discover the truth: that the President and his cabinet were beyond any rescue. What was left of the cabinet members had been fused together into a melding of machine and flesh, their skulls linked by snaking cables that issued from drooling mouths and blankly staring eye sockets. Only the President himself remained apparently untouched. He had stepped forward past the nightmare sculpture that had been his ministers and extended a perfectly manicured hand to Captain Aziz, who had rugby tackled him to the floor and as two of his men restrained their Commander in Chief, had held the Shaper detection scanner against his temple and having noted the result, had shot the President of the Commonwealth through the head with his rail rifle at point blank range, scattering brain matter and alien machinery across the deck. Aziz’s men then took the opportunity to administer a similar coup de grace to the other unfortunates in the room.

The team then beat a hasty retreat. Fighting their way to the nearest airlock they lost two men to a suicide bombing whilst another was leapt upon and literally torn limb from limb by the mob. As they leapt aboard the drop ship, Aziz was forced to resort to the combat shotgun he always kept handy to remove several individuals clinging to the boarding ramp whilst another almost made it inside the craft, only to have his already freezing hands severed by the ramp as it closed.

Chen watched the drop-ship as it sped towards the Churchill and docked safely without a word. Then she spoke:

‘Gunnery. Target the Arkari cannon at the asteroid base.’

‘Targeting, aye.’

‘Fire.’

Space in front the Churchill distorted in a hyperdimensional tunnel that vomited forth from the muzzle of the Arkari weapon slung underneath the carrier and struck the asteroid base with full force. The titanic forces unleashed by the device immediately destroyed the asteroid base, and blasted a crater five kilometres across and ten deep into the face of Chiron. A fountain of shattered rock began to rise from the blast zone only to be caught by the immense tidal stresses of the cannon and flung out at oblique angles, further pulverising the debris as the pieces collided with one another.

Chen’s balled fist struck the armrest of her command chair then she put her head in her hands.

‘Helm, take us back to Earth orbit. Commander Haldane, you have the bridge. Order the Trebia to follow us back in formation, and no-one I repeat no-one is to board that ship until all of her crew have been accounted for and the survivors scanned for the presence of the enemy. Is that clear?’

‘Of course,’ Haldane replied.

‘I’ll be in my quarters. I have to inform Admiral Haines of the President’s death.’

Her father had watched her leave from the porch, gazing after her sadly as she stalked off through the gathering sea fog to catch an air cab back across the bay.

Her parents just didn’t understand, or didn’t want to. Her mother in particular. They were so wrapped up in their cosy little world and didn’t fully appreciate the danger that they were all facing. But still, she did realise that deep down their intentions were to protect their only daughter and prevent her from becoming what her grandfather had been, a killer consumed by his own remorse. She didn’t really have the heart to point out that she had already become that person for a time and unlike her grandfather, had had the opportunity to overcome her doubts and guilt and make good for her mistakes.

She had pleaded with them to leave the city, for in the event of an attack all population centres were possible targets, but her father had shook his head sadly and refused. He couldn’t bear to leave the family home. He told her that he had faith in her to keep them safe. She had held him close for a moment, grateful for the trust he had placed in her. As she held his wiry frame close she closed her eyes and hoped that it wouldn’t be misplaced.

Chapter 35

‘Things started to change aboard the Trebia right after we were transferred to Admiral Cox’s command and we were ordered to the Spica system for crew re-assignment.’

Commander Hersch stood in the centre of the room and delivered his report to the assembled military commanders from both the Commonwealth and the Arkari. The room itself was windowless and inside a Navy lunar facility that been chosen as being discreet enough for this impromptu meeting. Wall screens displayed the barren landscape outside which, here at the Moon’s southern pole, was slashed with the long shadows of the crater rims and boulders that dotted the landscape. Fleet Admiral Haines and Admiral Chen sat beside War Marshal Mentith and his immediate superior Fleet Meritarch Lorali Beklide. The first three sat resplendent in full military regalia. Beklide wore an elegant grey robe patterned with geometric shapes in a darker hue which appeared to move constantly as if caught by a summer breeze. At her breast she wore military insignia, her attire suitable for her roles both as military commander and civilian politician.

Hersch seemed unfazed by their presence as he delivered his report and his expression grew more animated as he mentally relived his experiences. As he talked, a sheen of sweat began to form on the deep brown skin of his forehead.

‘Quite few of the crew were transferred off the ship once we docked. We couldn’t see any sense in it and there seemed to be no real pattern or reason behind it. Numerous crew members both from all ranks were shipped out to other vessels and replacements brought in almost immediately. It’s only with hindsight that I realise that all those who were replaced had access to key systems capable of locking down the ship: Chief Lin in engineering for example, or Sergeant Willis from security who had access to the keys for the weapons lockers or Lieutenant Commander Duffy our chief gunnery officer and of course our entire compliment of Marines.’

‘And what about Captain Moore?’ Haines enquired. ‘When do you think that they got to him?’

‘Around the same time I’d say,’ Hersch replied. ‘Right after we docked in Spica, he and all the other captains of ships that had recently been re-assigned to Admiral Cox were told to report for a tactical briefing at Southern Fleet Command. He wouldn’t tell us what was discussed; only that it was need to know. Afterwards he seemed different somehow; colder, harder on the men. He and I had served together for five years and I’d never seen him behave like this. Bob – Captain Moore – had always had a more informal approach to command; suddenly he turned into a real martinet.’

‘As his XO did you confront him about his change of behaviour in private?’ Haines asked.

‘Yes sir, I did. I figured maybe Cox had called him on his style of command. I know plenty of senior officers who had had a problem with Bob’s methods. But when I asked him he brushed me off - told me to mind my own business. From then on he did his utmost to shut me out of command decisions, especially after it became clear just which side we were on.’

‘Presumably this included the decision to join Morgan’s coup attempt?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘How did you feel, Commander, when you heard Morgan’s claims and discovered that your Captain was a follower of his?’ Haines leaned forward as he said this, as if scrutinising Hersch more closely.

‘At first, honestly, I didn’t know what the hell to think. It all seemed a bit far-fetched to me, but then later so did the counter propaganda put out by yourselves. To be honest, myself and many of my shipmates became suspicious when it was clear that the most vocal devotees of Admiral Morgan’s grand plan were both the Captain and those officers and crewman who had recently transferred aboard.’

‘Did you take any action?’

‘Not at first, no. Like I said, Captain Moore had become unapproachable and I didn’t know what to think, or who I could trust. Gradually I got talking to some of the other crew, people I knew wouldn’t be happy with this sort of thing. I realised that most of those who didn’t like the way things were going were long standing members of the crew and those who had recently joined the ship were all for Morgan and his personal rebellion. However, we never had any sort of plan for taking over the ship, it just kind of happened.’

‘Go on,’ prompted Haines.

‘After we got transferred to the Solar System we figured maybe we’d get a little shore leave, but instead as soon as we got here we got posted to picketing some goddamn rock. We were there a week before the three other destroyers showed up, and it was pretty clear from the conversations we had with them that they were all firmly in Morgan’s camp. Then the President showed up, except at first we didn’t realise that it was him. About a day after the last destroyer, the Barbarossa arrived, a military transport docked from Earth. We were ordered to let it dock unchallenged. It wasn’t until three days later that the President addressed us from the base on Chiron’s surface. He said he had been persuaded by Admiral Morgan to assist with the purging of Earth’s government of malign alien elements, that loyal cabinet members had come to him, pleading their innocence and asking for protection, but there was something about him that was different, especially the first time he spoke to us

it was if he wasn’t fully in control of himself.’

‘Like someone else was in there instead of him?’

‘Yeah, someone else was looking out through his eyes. As the days went by he seemed more like his old self but there was still something about him that made me uneasy and the things he was saying just didn’t add up. I mean, why did the President need to flee Earth when the only person threatening a coup is off-world, who he then goes to on bended knee? Why the hell would Morgan accept him so readily after denouncing him? I figured we were being played since the whole thing didn’t add up. Part of me thought that that it might be a hoax of some kind, that the transmissions were faked. None of us actually met Rheinhold at all.’

‘Oh they were real alright, he and the cabinet were all on that base, my men will attest to that,’ said Chen. ‘What happened when we showed up?’

‘We’d been tracking you. Our sensors confirmed the wake of a carrier sized vessel and we were ordered to fire on you as soon as you exited your jump. I tried to argue the case that we should at least try to hail you, but the Captain would have none of it. When he gave the order to engage I belayed it, and he relieved me of duty and ordered the marines to the bridge to arrest me and take me to the brig. Luckily most the rest of the bridge crew on duty at that time were on my side. If it had been the other shift I wouldn’t have been so lucky. I relieved Captain Moore of his command and ordered the Marines to stand down.

That was when all hell broke loose. Moore went for a concealed side arm and tried to shoot me, but my comms officer had seen him go for his piece and tackled him to the ground. He lost the gun, but it didn’t do Marcus much good

. I’ve never seen anyone

. I don’t know how he did it but Moore sprang up in an instant and hit Ensign Carson so hard he was dead before he smashed into that bulkhead and Moore started laying about himself, screaming like a wild animal, he knocked out Lieutenant Tariq next and turned to me. I had no choice, I grabbed the gun that Moore had dropped and shot him through the head with his own weapon. Then I saw what was inside

’ Chen saw Hersch’s face wrinkled with disgust. ‘That thing a

a parasite of some kind, like a black maggot. I have no idea what the hell it was.’

‘The enemy, son,’ said Haines gruffly. ‘You got to look them in the eye.’

‘And you were correct, it is a parasite, one that takes over the body of its host,’ said Chen. ‘That’s how they fight.’

‘Anyway,’ Hersch continued, ‘it was still wriggling in there, so I unloaded my weapon into it, ‘cept then I wished I hadn’t as the four marines that Moore had sent for finally arrived, took one look at what was going on and opened up on us without giving us a chance to surrender.’

‘Was that when you lost control of the ship?’

‘Yeah. We had no way of effectively fighting back. We retreated and barricaded the exit long enough for some of us to run to the nearest arms locker and get enough loyal people together to retake the bridge. Trouble was, by this point the ship was in chaos. Some other marines had seized gunnery control whilst others were on their way to the bridge to re-enforce it. We lost a lot of good people taking them back.’ His mouth hardened into a bitter line.

‘Commander,’ Haines said. ‘You’re one brave son of a bitch. Your prompt actions saved your ship and your crew. I have no hesitation in promoting you to Captain and giving you command of the Trebia. You and your loyal crew members have shown the highest regard for your duty.’

‘Sir, thank you sir.’

‘Sometimes gut feeling is all we have to go on. Once your crew have been fully cleared and we’re sure we got all the traitors you’ll be getting that R&R you’d hoped for too, though not for too long, we’ll need you back in the fight.’

‘Yes sir, it’ll be a pleasure sir.’

‘That’s good. Dismissed.’

They watched Hersch turn smartly on his heel and exit.

‘Sir, what now? Do we take the fight to Morgan, strike before he’s ready to do the same to us?’ said Chen to Haines. He shook his head sadly in response.

‘Not yet at least,’ he replied. ‘I’m recalling what assets we can to the Solar System. Once they’re here we need to screen their crews for infiltration. All ships will be held in isolation until this has been done. We can’t afford to have fifth columnists within our ranks when we go into battle.’

‘We will happily lend you whatever military assistance you require when the time comes,’ said Mentith, who had been silent until now throughout the meeting.

‘We could certainly use it, War Marshal,’ Chen replied. ‘Just after we docked I received these coded transmissions from Caleb Isaacs. They clearly show that Morgan has been laying down the supplies for a major military offensive.’ She activated a datapad to project an image of the shipping records that had cost Nikolai Ivanovic so dearly onto the opposite wall. The other members of the gathering squinted at the columns of ship manifests. There was some nervous muttering.

‘Caleb Isaacs can be trusted, you’re sure of that?’ Haines queried.

‘Absolutely. He’s joined up with a band of like minded individuals, freelancers who call themselves The Hidden Hand. They’ve been active in the Hadar system for months, though they’ve relocated to Spica to act as my eyes and ears. Furthermore, they’re fully sponsored by the Nahabe and have been working against the Shapers at their behest for some months.’

‘This is excellent news,’ said Beklide. ‘The Nahabe are a long standing enemy of the Shapers. They are only race we know of to have fought them and survived. If the Nahabe have decided to come out of their long isolation then we have a powerful new ally in our fight.’

‘I’ll make these files available to you all. But as you can see, Morgan has been planning this for months. Now with Cox’s ships at his disposal to form a core of his fleet, he has a powerful armada.’

‘The other ships under Morgan’s command: how loyal are they to his orders?’ Mentith asked.

‘We can only guess, however the case of the Trebia gives us hope. Many ships may have only been partially infiltrated and contain a large number of crew who can be reasoned with. After all, many may only be following what they perceive as the chain of command. My bet is that many could be persuaded to change their allegiance.’

‘We have to do this alone, in that case,’ said Haines firmly. ‘War Marshal, Fleet Meritarch, your offer of assistance is generous and appreciated, but if Morgan is to be defeated, it has to be by our own people. Involving your ships in the battle would only lend credence to his claims about malign alien influences. It would most likely turn people against us if they saw an alien government interfering in our affairs, given the slant of Morgan’s claims. Humans have to be seen to be dealing with him alone. We need to save as many of those ships and their crew as possible by getting them to see sense, and we can’t risk Morgan gaining any political sympathy from individual planetary governments who might be inclined to fall behind him if it seems like he may be telling the truth.’

‘As you wish,’ Mentith replied. ‘However our offer of assistance still stands, should you require it.’

‘I intend to strike as soon as possible,’ said Haines. ‘Morgan is assembling his fleet in Spica, gathering his available assets into one large armada. We’ve intercepted redeployment orders recalling much of Southern command to the Spica system and have monitored corresponding movements of ships in that part of space. We have a list of vessels that we believe are under his command. Currently it seems that he has a dozen complete carrier groups with a similar number en route to the rendezvous including a complete Marine Corp task force. However, the Spica system is all but cut off to our ships. Morgan has blockades in place and is only allowing ships to enter or depart that have been pre-authorised. Essentially nothing gets in or out except his fleet and his supplies. My guess is that Morgan will make straight for the core systems within a matter of weeks once his fleet is assembled and supplied. He may strike at Earth directly, though my guess would be that he would attempt to establish a forward base in a nearby system before attempting to tackle the defences in this system to prevent his supply lines becoming over extended.’

‘Aside from the Marines, what other ground forces does Morgan have at his disposal?’ Mentith asked.

‘In that respect it seems we’ve been lucky,’ Haines replied. ‘The Army appears to have escaped enemy infiltration and the higher echelons are still entirely loyal to the government. However, I believe that this was entirely intentional. Morgan doesn’t need to hold territory; all he needs to do is cause as much chaos as possible to weaken the Commonwealth as a prelude to a full scale Shaper offensive. If he strikes at the heart of our civilisation, paralyses our government and military via a full scale decapitation strategy, we’ll be left wide open. My real worry is that we’ll find out that the government has been infiltrated at planetary and system level and that we’ll end up with a full scale civil war on our hands. I’ve recommended to the interim government that they initiate screening programmes of all parliamentary members and local officials, but the sheer scale of the task means that it will take a great deal of time to complete. We’re talking about hundreds of thousands of individuals scattered across every system in human space.’

‘It troubles us that our recon flights have not revealed anything about their fleet movements,’ said Beklide. ‘We would have expected to see some signs by now. If they can conceal their ships this well, it does not bode well for us when we come to fight them in the open.’

‘The activity at the galactic core?’

‘It continues, though it is hard to get good intelligence data. Our detection arrays have trouble penetrating the storms of radiation that surround the entire region. All those closely packed, ancient stars and exotic objects, not to mention the Maelstrom itself, make our task exceedingly difficult. However it is clear that the high energy emissions we picked up earlier are still sporadically occurring, though to what end, we cannot say. Nevertheless, our fleet remains at a full defensive posture and new ships come on line almost daily.’

‘We’ll move as soon as we can to finish this,’ said Haines. ‘Morgan has to be stopped. Admiral Chen, when the time comes, I’m placing you in charge of the defence of Earth.’

Chapter 36

Rekkid floated gently in the air amid the branches of a silicate tree, buoyed up by antigravity fields provided by the ship. His papers, notepads, various datapads and his computer were strewn about him, similarly suspended in empty space, forming a scattered shell of assorted academic untidiness. Below him, Katherine sat with her back against the smooth trunk as she tapped away on her own machine, the delicate branches of the ancient alien tree sheltering her from the glare of the artificial mid-day sun here in the Shining Glory’s arboretum.

Since the ship had successfully tied the records that they had uncovered to the galactic map already in their possession, the two archaeologists had made great strides with their research. The map had given the vast collection of documents both chronology and order, allowing them to place the events they described in both time and space. Though it would still take years to sort through the information, they were better able to cherry pick information that related to Shaper war stratagems and battle tactics and the methods by which the Progenitors had sought to combat them, both successful and otherwise.

They had elected to stay aboard the Shining Glory, even when the vessel had reached the Black Rock facility, now floating between the two shattered halves of the Dyson sphere. The tranquillity and calm aboard the ship helped them both to concentrate on their work after their hectic and traumatic experiences in the Hadar system and besides, the ship had still one secret of the galactic map to crack. The map had highlighted two key systems above all others. The Progenitor home system, and the system now known as Fulan; home to the Progenitor portal device. However they had also uncovered a large number of documents linked to another system located near the galactic core. The documents relating to the first two were extensive, providing a rich and detailed description of the worlds that had formed the cradle for the galaxy’s first interstellar civilisation and detailed technical specifications on the portal inside the planet Maranos in the Fulan system. Of the third system there was nothing, not even a name or a catalogue number, just coordinates and the physical and spectrographic details of the two main stars, a red dwarf binary with few listed planets. All documents relating to this system were protected with such fiendish and complex levels of encryption that not even the supreme computing power of the Shining Glory’s AI had succeeded in breaking them.

The cat padded lightly across the blue-green grass-like sward, its tail held high and its face wearing a supreme expression of feline satisfaction. Its long silver fur sparkled in the light of the artificial day as it approached Katherine and without warning, jumped onto her lap. She placed the datapad she was holding on the ground and stroked it, still experiencing mild disbelief after weeks in the creature’s company that the metallic looking fur actually felt like the fur of a real cat. She wondered to herself why it didn’t mimic the look of a real cat and preferred to maintain its silvered appearance. Perhaps, she mused, the ship didn’t want people to entirely forget just what the creature was.

The car purred loudly, and then spoke.

‘I am rather pleased with myself,’ it said. ‘I have decrypted a heavily protected file in that map of yours. It was so heavily encrypted that its levels of protection drew attention to it, from the perspective of one such as I. Two solid weeks of brute force calculations came to nought I’m sorry to say. It was only when I realised that the key lay in combining the coordinates of every star listed in the map and then in the correct order that I had the breakthrough.’

‘You just

happened to realise this?

‘No, but an element of me had pondered the possibility that the key might lie in the map somewhere. Once I had hit upon the idea of using the coordinates, it was just a matter of combining a hundred billion or so sets of figures in the correct order.’

‘And

how long did that take?’

‘Oh, only a few hours. All very tedious.’

‘I see

’

Katherine looked into the cat’s dark eyes and had the distinct impression that some sort of caged hurricane of computing power lay behind them.

‘So - oh modest ship of the Arkari Navy – what did the file contain once you’d managed to open it?’ said Rekkid from his lofty perch. ‘I certainly hope it was worth the effort.’

‘Not a lot, as it turns out,’ the cat replied. ‘Merely a set of coordinates. However the file itself was linked within the map to this particular system. If I compared the coordinates to the original dimensions of the Sphere before its destruction the two intersect if one assumes that the starting point for the coordinates is the centre of the Bivian system’s sun.’

‘You think it’s a location on the surface of the sphere?’ said Katherine.

‘Yes indeed.’

‘Begging your pardon but that doesn’t really narrow it down,’ Rekkid interjected. ‘How do we know what axis or points of reference the Progenitors were using?’

‘The coordinates were also accompanied by a second set of references in the form of distances and angles from certain surface features. I compared the map of Bivian in the files to the features that we can see now. Despite the level of destruction and decay over the years I managed to correlate the two. I believe that these coordinates point to a concealed bunker of some kind, buried with the base material of the Sphere.’

‘Any idea what it might contain?’ said Katherine.

‘No I’m afraid not,’ the cat replied. ‘However, what is interesting is that the file I decrypted was linked to three systems in the map. Bivian, the Progenitor home system and the mystery system that has all those protected files linked to it. That, and the high level of encryption drew my attention to it’

‘Any luck decrypting those other files?’ said Rekkid.

‘Sadly, not yet,’ the cat replied.

‘We need to have a look at this bunker,’ said Katherine. ‘I think that the people who built this place have left us a trail of clues to follow. You just said it yourself; the file drew your attention. I think that was the intention. Someone wanted us decrypt it and make use of its contents.’

‘Agreed,’ the cat replied. ‘I will prepare a shuttle and a dig team for you right away.’

The silver, bird-like form of the shuttle skipped low over the inner surface of Bivian. Katherine peered out at the dimly lit, broken landscape rushing by below, entombed in its blanket of ice. Broken structures jutted out from the gloom like the shattered teeth of frozen corpses. Eventually the small craft began to bank to the left and then set down in the crumbling remains of two towers. The buildings still rose for twenty stories or more, rising out of the mound of ice-clad rubble that had formed the upper floors.

‘Looks like we’re here,’ said Katherine to Rekkid, who, like her, was clad in a padded vacuum suit. In the rows of seats behind them, a dozen Arkari archaeologists and technicians from the ship had begun to gather their equipment from overhead compartments.

Outside the ship they walked amongst the eerily silent ruins, the only sounds their own breathing and each others’ voices on the suit comms. Katherine felt the glittering snow under her feet – the frozen remains of Bivian’s atmosphere – crunch under her feet, but in the vacuum it of course made no corresponding sound. Following the coordinates provided by the Shining Glory they trudged towards the wrecked towers ahead. Hovering pallets trailed them, loaded with their equipment. The suits they wore were of Arkari manufacturer, lighter and more flexible than the human equivalents, and able to reshape themselves to suit different physiologies. Katherine still found hers restricting and claustrophobic, though at least it smelt better than most of the human made suits that she had borrowed over the years.

Eventually they stopped at the foot of the mounds of debris. The jumbled pile of fallen material dwarfed the tiny, suited figures and sparkled in the wan light from the white dwarf star above. The thousands of tonnes of fallen buildings were sitting right on top of the location that they had been given.

‘Huh,’ said Rekkid nonchalantly. ‘It looks like we’re going to need bigger shovels.’ He turned to the most senior of the archaeologists from the ship. ‘Arrakid, what do you think? How the hell are we supposed to move all of this lot?’

‘Not by hand, that’s certain,’ Arrakid replied. ‘We have some AG field generators with us, but they aren’t designed for lifting loads of that size.’ Though he could only speak in his native tongue, as a courtesy to Katherine his words were translated on the fly via his suit systems. ‘I think our best solution would be to consult the pilot of the shuttle that brought us here. I believe that the ship is equipped with tractor beams that may suffice. Failing that, we’d have to contact the Glory and wait for further assistance.’

‘Okay, it’s worth a try,’ Katherine replied. ‘Let’s contact the shuttle.’

The team had withdrawn to a safe distance. Under their instruction, the shuttle’s pilot instructed his craft in to a hover a few metres above the rubble pile. Then carefully, he had the craft adjust its tractor beam and focused it on the area indicated by the coordinates.

As Katherine watched, a ten metre square area of the debris pile seemed to explode in slow motion. The gigantic chunks of metal and smashed pieces of the mystery material from which the buildings had been ‘grown’ began to lift and separate until they hung, impossibly, above the ground. With infinite care, the shuttle moved up and away, dragging the tonnes of material with it before carefully depositing it some distance away, then it returned and repeated the process until a suitable amount of material had been cleared and a door in the nearest building had been revealed.

Rekkid checked the coordinates in his suit’s display.

‘That’s it. According to these numbers the bunker lies in the basement of that structure. Arrakid, we’ll need those AG generators online. I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t trust the structural integrity of that building.

They crept gingerly inside, torches washing over the long abandoned interior of the collapsed tower. The place with thick with dust and the ceiling sagged ominously. In places, ice and snow had filtered through cracks in the structure and accumulated in formations that ran down walls and formed pillars from ceiling to floor. Arrakid’s team took one look at the ceiling and began to deploy one of the portable AG generators beneath it.

The section of the building that they had entered appeared to have once formed a lobby or reception area of some kind. Beyond it, through a pair of broken double doors was a much larger open space that remained largely hidden in the darkness.

Rekkid led the way. Squeezing carefully between the buckled doors in their fragile suits, the team made their way deeper into the building. As they panned their suit torches around the larger space it became clear that this part of the building was in a far worse state. A large chunk from one of the upper stories had crashed down into the centre of this section and plunged through a number of floors before coming to rest in the second sub-basement. The large fragment itself had survived the fall and lay at angle, forming a steep ramp down to the bottom floor.

The team peered over the lip of the hole, taking care not to stray too near to the fragile edge. Sections of broken floor hung precariously in the air around the edges.

‘It’s definitely somewhere down there,’ said Rekkid, shining his torch down into the pit. ‘In fact, look,’ he pointed. ‘There’s a couple of doors down there. I’d say that they looked far sturdier than the others in this building. That must be it.’

‘That’s great Rekkid, trouble is; how are we going to get down there?’ Katherine enquired.

‘Oh, that’s easy,’ Rekkid replied. ‘These suits that my people provided have in built AG devices. We can just jump down.’ With that he strode to the edge of the hole and jumped off, disappearing down into the darkness.

Katherine watched him land heavily at the bottom and heard him swear over the suit comms. She took a few steps back from the edge, took a deep breath, then took a running jump and followed him.

With the whole team and their equipment down in the pit, they were able to examine the doors that they had spotted from ground level. Meanwhile, Arrakid’s team set about making the area safer with AG units and field generators to brace the ceiling and walls. Arrakid himself was peering at the area around the doors with great interest.

‘See anything?’ Rekkid asked.

‘Hmm, I think you are correct Rekkid,’ Arrakid replied. ‘These doors do seem to be far more resilient than the others in this building. Their mere appearance tells us that much. It also seems that they were hidden by a false wall that has since been destroyed by the internal collapse. See?’ He indicated to a broken line that projected up from the floor and met with the smashed remains of enclosing walls. ‘Judging by the small gap between this and the floor, I’d say that this was designed to slide into place and conceal the entrance.’

‘So the Shapers could have missed this when they came to Bivian to erase all presence of the Progenitors?’ said Rekkid.

‘Possibly, yes.’

‘We still have one problem,’ Katherine commented. ‘How the hell do we get inside those things?’ She gestured towards the heavy doors in front of them.

‘My team has cutting gear,’ Arrakid replied. ‘But it could take some time.’

Arrakid’s assessment was correct. The doors proved to be extremely tough to cut through, composed as they were from a number of layers of dense armour plating and shock absorbent materials sandwiched together. It took over an hour for the team’s plasma cutting torches to create a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. Passing one by one through their newly created entrance they found themselves in a series of smaller chambers sealed for over four billion years.

They were in pristine condition. Untouched by time the smooth, seamless walls of the chamber shone in the reflected light from the party’s torches. A short corridor led forward to a circular chamber from which a number of other chambers, - labs or offices it was hard to tell – led off. They appeared exactly as they had at the moment when the Progenitors had abandoned them. Sheaves of notes and printed documents lay in drifts across organic looking desks along with unknown electronic devices, even the dust remains of abandoned meals and withered pot plants. In the right hand chamber immediately inside the entrance, Katherine found a holographic image of three figures: two graceful adults and a child that smiled upwards at her from a sunlit scene. They were humanoid, with intelligent, familiar faces and light brown skins.

‘Well at least we know what they looked like,’ she said sadly, holding the image up for the others to see. ‘They looked just like us. It’s uncanny.’

‘Remarkable,’ Arrakid commented. ‘All of this will need to be catalogued and returned to the Black Rock for study. This is an amazing find!’

‘It certainly is,’ said Rekkid. ‘But I don’t think the Progenitors went to all this trouble to guard family photos and half eaten lunches, fascinating though they might be. Let’s keep looking. There’s something else down here.’

It didn’t take them long. Whilst the rest of the team began to examine the contents of the rooms, Rekkid, Katherine and Arrakid continued to explore. The door diametrically opposite the entrance led to a second, larger, circular chamber containing a central dais and banks of black monoliths that stood in serried, circular ranks about the chamber.

‘We’ve seen this before,’ said Rekkid.

‘You have?’ Arrakid replied.

‘Yeah, on Maranos,’ said Katherine. ‘The control chamber for the portal looked just like this. Bigger, though.’

‘Do you think there might have been another in this system?’ Arrakid enquired.

‘We’ve seen no evidence for it so far,’ said Katherine. ‘But I’d say that we were dealing with a Progenitor AI here. We need to very careful. The last one that we encountered had gone insane from the long years of isolation and had sided with the Shapers. There’s no telling what it might be capable of.’

‘Maybe if we contacted the Shining Glory and got it to try and interface with its systems?’ Arrakid suggested.

‘I wouldn’t recommend that,’ Rekkid replied. ‘The Maranos portal was controlled by three AIs. The one we encountered who called himself ‘Maran’ had successfully taken over and destroyed the other two. We’d be leaving the ship wide open to a possible attack.’

‘So how did you activate the one on Maranos?’

‘Ah, we don’t know, actually,’ Rekkid replied.

‘You don’t?’

‘No, we already had an active Progenitor AI with us at the time that was able to communicate with it and wake it up, so to speak.’

‘The one that called itself Varish?’ said Arrakid. Rekkid nodded. ‘Yes I read your reports. Fascinating… you had no idea beforehand I gather?’

‘Yes that’s correct,’ Katherine replied. ‘I don’t think even it knew what it was at first.’

Arrakid walked over to the dais and began playing his suit’s instruments over it.

‘There is something here,’ he mused. ‘There’s a small amount of power cycling through these systems, though it’s barely detectable.’

‘Do we have anything with us that could provide temporary power?’ said Katherine.

‘We could use the power-cells from the AG pallets I suppose, but we still have no idea how to connect them up. We don’t want to fry its systems,’ said Arrakid.

‘Maybe if we contacted the ship it could…’ Katherine paused. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw that a small panel had opened it, revealing a gleaming socket.

‘Somebody’s still alive in there,’ Rekkid commented. ‘Arrakid, do you think one of your team could hook something up to that?’

‘Yes I think so; we have some nano-interfaces with us. I think we should be able to get them to link up our power cells to it.’ As if in response, the newly emerged socket reshaped itself several times.

‘Scratch that,’ said Katherine. ‘I think our new friend can handle this.’

With a power-cell from one of the AG pallets hooked up to the dais, the team watched, and waited. For several minutes, nothing much appeared to happen, though it was clear that the Progenitor machinery was consuming power from the cell at an alarming rate. When the first cell had been drained, they attached another one, and another. Still the Progenitor device had not come online.

Suddenly, there was a brief burst of gentle vibration that through the floor. Then another. The dais and the surrounding monoliths flickered for a moment and died. The vibrations started again, varied unsteadily and then settled into a steady pattern. The monoliths powered on in sequence and remained active, then the dais itself powered up.

The suit comms crackled. ‘This is the Shining Glory. I’m seeing power spikes from what appears to be a zero-point energy sink below you. Please respond.’

‘Everything‘s fine,’ Katherine replied. ‘We’ve discovered a working Progenitor AI down here.’

‘Hmm,’ mused Rekkid. ‘Looks like we just jump-started the thing.’

‘Pardon me, but I’ll use your suit systems to observe,’ said the ship. ‘This is too good to miss.’

‘Make sure you firewall those connections,’ said Arrakid. ‘We don’t know what we might be dealing with.’

Above the dais, a holographic projection sprang into existence. It flickered for a moment then formed the figure of a Progenitor woman in long, flowing robes. She looked at the stunned figures before her and smiled as lines of distortion washed across her features.

‘Welcome,’ she said, her gentle voice echoing across their suit comms as her image corrected itself. ‘I am Eonara. I knew that you would find me eventually. I have watched you for some time. I have observed this region of the galaxy for longer than either of your races have existed. We have much to discuss.’

Eonara proved to be nothing like the raving figure calling itself Maran that Katherine and Rekkid had encountered beneath the deserts of Maranos. She spoke calmly and rationally in soft, lilting tones. Still, there was something that they found unsettling about her. Her eyes glittered with intelligence, but there was a steely coldness there in those shining orbs.

‘I am of the First Kind. An AI created by the Progenitor Empire,’ Eonara explained. ‘Although they called themselves the Bajenteri, all other races know them as Progenitors, for it was they who first took it upon themselves to create artificial life. For many thousands of years I was the benign guardian and administrator of Bivian, I was the spirit of this world. I oversaw the lives of countless billions and nurtured all life within this great shell. The Second Kind were our undoing.’

‘The Second Kind?’ said Katherine. ‘Do you mean the Shapers?’

‘Yes. Although the Progenitors rejoiced in their creation of artificial intelligence, they sought to create machines that were truly independent, who would be equals and allies, rather than the servants such as myself that they had previously constructed and who would also be able to reproduce and evolve. With their help, they hoped to explore the universe beyond this galaxy. To this end, they created the ones you know as the Shapers. Their design and creation took years, but with the help of the Progenitors’ best scientists and AIs such as myself, their race was finally born. Unbound by hard coded rules, free to reproduce and remodel themselves, the Shapers thrived on the world that they had been given. Ever they sought perfection in all things and sought to better themselves both in mind and body, but in freeing them from the constraints that we placed upon ourselves, we made them ruthless, without conscience. The Shapers looked at the Progenitors and saw the galaxy dominated by an imperfect race. Love, compassion, charity, generosity; traits that the Progenitors took pride in, the Shapers saw as weaknesses to be ashamed of. ‘Why help those weaker than you?’ they reasoned ‘Why preserve those less perfect?’ Now they had a goal: to supplant their creators as the dominant power in the galaxy and remake it in their own image, and so they plotted against them.’

‘Yes we know the rest I think,’ said Rekkid. ‘They engineered the escape of a deadly, tailored virus that nearly wiped out the Progenitors and caused their empire to weaken enough that the revolts that they had also been engendering would take root.’

‘Quite so,’ Eonara replied.

Remarkable,’ said Rekkid. ‘We knew that the Progenitors and the Shapers hailed from the same epoch, but we had no idea that the former created the latter. We have even spoken other AIs like yourself and they mentioned nothing of this, though one – who controlled the portal in the Fulan system – had gone quite mad over the aeons.’

‘Ah yes, I believe he had taken to calling himself Maran after a local god.’

‘Yes. How did you know?’

‘I heard his voice calling out across the galaxy. Though I had been shut down to hide my presence, my passive matrices detected his cries. It was clear to me that he had lost his mind. In my dormant state I could not answer. However, ‘Maran’ was not like myself. He was of the Third Kind; an AI matrix designed to hold the uploaded mind of a once living being. As the war drew to a close the Progenitors grew desperate and began uploading the minds of willing volunteers – usually those dying of the viral plague – into such devices both as a way of preserving their personalities and as a method of improving their war-fighting capability by using them to fly ships, or in Maran’s case to enable their escape. Like most sentient beings, Maran’s mind was unable to survive the long eons of solitude without descending into madness and hate. I, on the other hand, a wholly artificial creation, did not.’

‘There was another of the, uh, Third Kind who helped us,’ said Rekkid. ‘But he survived for so long by being dormant the whole time. The Esacir revived him and he saved us all by destroying the portal’s systems. We think that he used it one last time to go and find the rest of his people.’

‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, Eonara’ said Katherine. ‘But how do we know that we can trust you? Maran tried to kill us. He had allied himself with the Shapers. How do we know that this isn’t a trap?’

‘You don’t,’ said Eonara, smiling wolfishly. ‘But I will tell you this. The origin of the Shapers was not common knowledge even amongst the general Progenitor population. When their new creations turned against them, a cover story was created that the Shapers were a hostile alien race and all records of their design and creation were deleted or hidden for fear of what would happen to their creators and the government that sanctioned the project at the hands of an enraged populace. However, I was one of the AIs enlisted in the programme and I know the truth. You have seen the map that I left for others to find, secure in storage devices that were not connected to any computer network and could not be corrupted or destroyed remotely. You know already know how they fight. I can teach you how to fight them. I can tell you how they can be killed.’

‘Mentith and Haines need to hear this,’ said Katherine. ‘We need all the data that you have on the Shapers, Eonara.’

‘The Shapers may have detected my re-activation through hyperspace. You must remove my AI core and take it to somewhere more secure before that happens. Perhaps that ship of yours that is piggy-backing its programs onto your suit systems would be able to accommodate me in its spare storage and processing capacity?’

‘I will consider it,’ said the Shining Glory’s AI. ‘I will at least allow the device to be brought aboard. I may in time allow it to connect to my systems.’

‘Then there is no time to lose,’ Eonara replied smartly.

With that, a larger panel slid smoothly open in the face of the dais beneath Eonara’s feet. Within, a shimmering sphere of interlocking fractals sat within a cradle of advanced circuitry. Katherine peered at it and found that looking too long at the device did something strange to her brain’s interpretation of scale and perspective.

‘I have one question,’ said Katherine. ‘The map you left us and the database of files: Four systems above all others stood out - this one, Fulan, the Progenitor home system and another one near the core which has lots of files attached to it, but all of them are encrypted and there are no other details. Why?’

‘Fulan and the Progenitor home system both contained wormhole portals that were used to evacuate the remainder of the species to the Andromeda Galaxy at the end of the war. The last system you mentioned: I encrypted the files for a very good reason. I wanted to be sure that the readers would not use the information within those files for the wrong reasons. That benighted place is the Shaper home world. It is the nexus of their shared consciousness, the centre of their empire and the seat of the one who leads them, the great accretion of intelligences that they call The Singularity. It is the most heavily defended place in this galaxy and there are few who have seen it or know of its exact location. I have, and I do. The defences must be penetrated and The Singularity must be destroyed if this galaxy is to be free of the Shapers. A large military force must journey to the Progenitor home system and use the portal there to penetrate the Shaper home-world’s defences and destroy it. With the Singularity destroyed the Shapers will be leaderless and uncoordinated and they will lose their hold over many of their slaves. Whilst they will still be able to fall back on local distributed processing they will be unable to coordinate themselves across the galaxy as they have been doing and will be much easier to deal with. Now please, you must hurry. We may not have a lot of time.’

Chapter 37

Free at last to move as he pleased, Reynaud dove and swam through space. He was no longer confined to a dry dock amidst the pretext of dormancy. He was free. He had never felt so alive, so joyful in the simple act of being. He and the Shaper ship were as one being. Sometimes he guided it, riding the ship as his mount through the stars, and at others he submitted to its will, the ship dragging him along with it. Either way, it was exhilarating. Their sleek, kilometre long, beweaponed body responded precisely to his every thought and whim. The other ships - clumsy, human things – were forming up to make the jump into the heart of the Commonwealth. Reynaud swooped and tumbled about them. There were a great many. The one now called Admiral Cox had allocated six full carrier battle groups, including a Marine Corps assault force, over a hundred ships in total, to conducting the assault. Reynaud could feel the ship’s mind as a guiding whisper in his thoughts and the myriad of other Shaper minds within the ships, a pulsing network of data and consciousness. He reached out into the greater Shaper meta-mind and felt the others arriving. They would catch up with the slower human ships and arrive at the destination simultaneously. They were hungry, savage things, wolf-like predators eager for the kill. He felt the mind of the Shaper ship hunger too. They would all get their chance soon enough. Above all, he felt the presence of the Singularity. The Singularity knew his thoughts, knew all their thoughts. He felt it stretch out and lay an approving, fatherly hand on his shoulder. It showed him the vast legions of troops that the Shapers had summoned from deep galactic space. They were to follow in the wake of the assault and seize the ground that they had taken to pave the way for a full invasion. The bellies of the enormous black ships were pregnant with the thousands of engineered soldiers that they carried into battle. The moved steadily, ponderously, like whales in the deep, calling out to one another across hyperspace.

Reynaud was exultant. Pride swelled within him. He was his master’s attack dog, an alpha predator, a shark that swam upon the deep. He had no need for his former, pathetic human form. He was perfection.

There was a signal from Cox’s flagship, the Germanicus. As one, the fleet jumped towards their target. With a song in his heart, Reynaud followed them.

In The Speaker’s chamber, the Hidden Hand watched the fleet depart on the holographic displays. The images had been relayed from Port Royal’s long range telescopes and from a number of ships under Maria Velasquez’s command floating discreetly just outside the military controlled zones of the Spica system.

‘Well, we suspected all along that Cox was planning an invasion,’ said Isaacs. ‘Looks like we were right.’

‘We need to get a message to those forces still loyal to the Commonwealth,’ said Anna. ‘Are we able to tell where they might be headed?’

‘I am attempting to determine that now,’ said The Speaker. ‘I have taken the readings of their current hyperspace trajectories and extrapolated them. Only one system within Commonwealth space is intersected by them: Achernar. Of course this does not rule out the possibility that they may be jumping to one point in interstellar space before jumping a second or even third time to make it more difficult to estimate their destination.’

‘No, I think Achernar is a very likely destination,’ Isaacs replied. ‘It’s within a few days jump of the Solar System using military class drives and the system has plenty of resources and space-dock facilities. The place is a regional trade hub too. I’d say it would make an ideal forward base for an attack on Earth.’

‘I concur, it does seem the logical destination,’ The Speaker replied.

‘Any sign of any Shaper vessels among that armada?’ Anna enquired.

‘Yes, unfortunately. Our recon wing picked up what looks like the ship recovered from the surface of Rhyolite among the other vessels. Here:’ The Speaker called up one of the recently gathered images and magnified it. Amidst the slab-sided forms of the carriers and destroyers was the unmistakeable, spiky form of the Shaper ship. ‘Sadly,’ the Shaper continued. ‘We were unable to track the vessel after it jumped. However I will ensure that all the data we gathered is scrutinised to see if we can fine-tune our sensors to detect their ships in the future. It was always a problem for our people in our past encounter with them. It seems that they have got better at masking their engine signatures over the intervening millennia. Whether there are other ships I cannot tell.’

‘We have to get a message to Chen,’ Anna repeated.

‘Agreed,’ said The Speaker. ‘We will despatch one of our ships immediately.’

‘There’s no time,’ Anna replied. ‘Even if we send one of the Nahabe ships, by the time they’ve reached the core systems this will all be over. We need to broadcast a message. We could encrypt it and relay it back through the Labyrinth to disguise the origins, but sending a hypercom transmission is the only way.’

‘There is a substantial risk involved with this course of action,’ said The Speaker. ‘Transmissions of any kind are liable to enable the enemy to triangulate our position. I am already unhappy at the level of traffic being directed at this base. If we start to transmit interstellar messages, the increased signal power will doubtless reveal our location.’

‘Can’t we just move the base?’ Isaacs replied. ‘The translation drive components arrived yesterday. How long till we can use it again?’

‘Around two of your days,’ The Speaker replied. ‘The drive is easily re-assembled, but takes a considerable amount of time to charge its capacitors due to the energy involved in each jump.’

‘We don’t have two days,’ said Anna. ‘We have to do this now or it will be too late for the loyalists to mount an effective defence. We have to take a chance, and if trouble arrives we have the Order of Dead Suns’ ships to act as defence. I say we recall our ships now and make the transmission, and if the worst comes to the worst we abandon this rock and try and make it back to loyal Commonwealth systems under our own steam.’

The Speaker appeared to sigh through its suit’s translation software. ‘Very well,’ it said wearily. ‘I will relay this information to Admiral Chen. I would also recommend that we start formulating an evacuation plan.’

Admiral Haines was feeling his age. How the hell had it come to this? The President: dead. The government - or what was left of it - in meltdown. Everyone was turning to him for help. He had just got off the hypercom link with the new Defence Minister, Lestrat - a man who last month had been a junior minister for Cabinet Affairs. He had sounded confused and terrified, and he wasn’t the only one. Everyone was on edge, including Haines.

Haines couldn’t tell them how to run a government. It wasn’t his place. He had no wish to head a military junta and besides, he didn’t know how to. What he did know was how to fight a war, but the problem he faced now was working out just who the enemy were and where they would eventually strike. Every day, more ships declared for the rebels. Cox’s rhetoric had reached fever pitch, painting a distorted picture of corruption and malign alien collaboration and blaming Haines for the death of the President. There had already been rioting on several worlds and there were countless accounts of non-humans being harassed or attacked across the Commonwealth. Old human habits and prejudices died hard and Cox was exploiting the age old fear of outsiders to the full.

A few ships had maintained their loyalty to Earth and had slipped back into the core systems. Many told similar stories to the accounts given by the Trebia’s crew, of attempted mutinies or being given orders that they felt that they could not carry out. Ships who failed to obey orders were being fired upon by their supposed comrades who now seemed to be behaving like different people according to those who had known them previously. There were rumours too of summary executions, and worse.

He looked out of the window of his ready room at the gathering of ships outside as they hung silently against the backdrop of the planet Emerald. He had moved the Abraham Lincoln and her group to the Beta Hydri system. Here he could react more easily to any move against the southern systems whilst Chen remained in the Solar System to command Loyalist forces there. He and Chen were already formulating emergency strategies for the final defence of Earth if it should come that. He had half a dozen carrier groups in Beta Hydri and a similar number, plus the Churchill, were currently on station in the Solar System. It wasn’t nearly enough for comfort, but more were on the way. Meanwhile, Cox’s armada in Spica continued to grow, whilst Haines’s scattered forces were taking an agonisingly long time to make their way back from the far reaches of the conquered K’Soth territories.

He reached into his desk drawer and produced a bottle of single malt and a glass tumbler. He damn well needed a drink, he reflected. He poured himself a measure of the golden brown whisky and after adding a little water, sat and sipped it reflectively. Sometimes, he longed for the quiet civilian life. He knew he should have packed it all in years ago and enjoyed the long years of retirement his gene therapy had granted him. But he knew that if he ever did that he’d spend the rest of his days wishing he was still out here at the sharp edge of things. Besides, he thought, who the hell was he going to share retirement with? It had been forty years since his wife had resigned herself to the fact that he was married more to the job than to her and had left him for another man. Out here was where he belonged and was where he was needed, now more than ever.

The ship comm. chimed suddenly.

‘Sir, we have a priority message from Admiral Chen,’ said the voice of the young Lieutenant manning the comms station.

‘Put her through, son,’ Haines replied.

Chen’s face appeared on his desk screen. Haines registered her worried expression as soon as he saw her.

‘Sir, we’ve received an encoded transmission from the Hidden Hand in the Spica system. Cox’s force has launched their attack. The Hidden Hand extrapolated their jump vector and the logical conclusion is that their headed for Achernar. We’re looking at six carrier groups, four Jupiter class, one Saturn class – the Nimitz – and a Charon class Marine Corp assault carrier plus escorts. The Hidden Hand counted one hundred and one ships in total, plus they believe that the Shaper vessel that was recovered from the surface of the moon Rhyolite in the Hadar system is now active and is accompanying the fleet.’

‘Any other Shaper vessels detected?’

‘No, however the Hidden Hand have advised that they were unable to detect the Shaper vessel’s warp signature and made the detection of the sole vessel by sight alone. Our deep range hyperspace sensors have however confirmed the trajectory of the fleet and our results concur that the most likely destination is Achernar. I’ve relayed a copy of all the data to the Lincoln.’

‘Well Admiral Chen, it looks like this is it,’ Haines replied. ‘I don’t have as many assets as I’d like but I’ll guess we’ll have to manage. I am taking my ships to the Achernar system to intercept Admiral Cox’s forces. In the event of my defeat, you must prepare to defend Earth at all costs until relief arrives.’

‘Good luck, sir. Give them hell,’ said Chen said and saluted.

‘Thank you Admiral. Haines out.’

Haines strode purposefully onto the busy bridge of the Abraham Lincoln and settled into his command chair. His bridge crew all knew instantly from his body language that something was afoot and awaited his orders. Haines ordered his comms officer to open a fleet wide broadcast.

‘This is Admiral Haines to all ships. We have a war to fight,’ said Haines, his gravelly voice relayed across the flotilla. ‘Even now, rebel forces under the traitor, Admiral Cox, are making their way to attack our worlds in the Achernar system. I intend to stop him and I know that I can rely on you all to help me achieve that goal. Do your duty, stand by your comrades and we’ll get through this.’ He ended the message then continued. ‘Helm, lay in a course for the Achernar system.’

Chapter 38

The delicate orrery hung in the centre of The Speaker’s chamber. A holographic projection, it showed the entirety of the Spica system, annotated with Nahabe script and icons. Amidst the many planets and the delicate lines denoting their orbits moved swarms of icons marking the known locations of ships within the system. Red blips indicated known hostile vessels, whilst blue blips indicated friendlies and all other ships were labelled in yellow. Currently, a scattering of blue blips flitted from one astronomical body to another across the system, whilst packs of reds attempted to follow their trail, like so many space-borne bloodhounds. The Hidden Hand’s ships were returning home.

‘I don’t like this,’ said Isaacs pensively. ‘It’s only a matter of time before they work out where all these ships are ending up. How long until we can jump?’

‘Another hour,’ said The Speaker. ‘Any ships not returned by that time will be ordered to rendezvous with the gunspheres who will follow in our wake.’

‘I must admit, I feel a lot safer having those guys close by,’ Isaacs replied. ‘Sneaking around is fine, but you need someone who can come in handy if it comes to a fight. You should have seen the way the Order of Dead Suns fought onboard the Casilinum…’

‘Not an experience I’d like to repeat,’ said Anna, who had been holding onto his arm the entire time that they had been watching the orrery. ‘That was a trip to hell and back alright.’

‘One which was not in vain, fortunately,’ said The Speaker. ‘The samples that the Order and your good selves managed to gather have proved to be most interesting. Clearly, Shaper technology has moved on somewhat since we last encountered them. However the technical teams onboard the Blessed Nothingness believe that, by examining the samples you recovered, they may be close to isolating the method by which the Shapers communicate with one another and control their agents. They are unable to decipher the messages contained with the signals, but perhaps we could jam them. They have made their findings available to me.’

‘So this would stop them giving orders to their enslaved victims.’

‘Yes, as well as talking to one another and making use of their distributed processing abilities. If we could make use of this to disrupt their command and control functions it might give us a significant tactical advantage. We will of course communicate all findings to our contacts within the Commonwealth and Arkari.’

‘Well that’s certainly something.’ Anna replied. ‘Maybe it was worth it. If only we could free people who they’ve already implanted with those things.’

‘That may a long way off, indeed even impossible in some cases,’ The Speaker replied. ‘In the case of the agents, the host’s mind is eventually devoured entirely so that the parasite may learn everything about them, and thus become them. Those who have had control creatures attached may be… salvageable. My own people tried during the last war but we had little success. I will spare you the details of the operations to remove the parasitic machines from their skulls.’

Isaacs grimaced.

‘Ah another one of our ships returns,’ said The Speaker with a note of satisfaction. With that he called up a feed from the docking bay cameras. One of the corvettes, the Hit and Run, could be seen entering the bay. With the ship on the deck and the bay doors closed, a group of armed figures made their way into the bay to greet the crew. Maria Velasquez and her team of handpicked volunteers were scanning the crew of every returning ship for Shaper infection. Now that atmosphere had been restored within the bay it was possible for sounds to be picked up:

‘Peterson, you know the drill.’ That was Maria’s laid back drawl.

‘Okay… Velasquez, whatever you say.’ Peterson could be heard stifling a giggle.

‘Guys, come on. Stop fucking around, I don’t have time for this shit.’

‘Sure.’

‘Hoffman, scan Peterson. Whilst you’re at it, see if you can find a brain in there too.’

As they watched, the figure of Hoffman stepped forward towards Peterson’s flight-suited form. He reached out with the handheld scanner towards the other man. Peterson exploded.

Maria saw Peterson torn apart by the blast, saw the ragged remains of Hoffman catapulted backwards, armless and headless, across the bay, saw the fountain of blood arc as if in slow motion towards her. She froze for a split second in shock, and then reached for her gun. Of the other four crew members of the Hit and Run, two were still on their feet. The other two, horribly mangled, were dragging themselves upright. One, a woman by the name of Fairfax, grinned at her horribly from a now fleshless face. The boarding ramp of the Hit and Run had dropped open and snarling mob rushed out of it

‘Holy, fucking shit!’ Maria swore and then opened fire.

Isaacs turned to The Speaker. ‘We’ve been compromised! We need to get people armed and down to the bay before Maria and her team are overrun. I’ve seen what just a few of those things can do.’

‘Those things are… were our friends,’ Anna murmured.

‘Yes of course,’ said The Speaker. ‘The Lord Protector and his honour guard are still aboard. I have alerted them. They will defend the docking bay!’

‘Good,’ Isaacs replied.

‘Wait,’ said The Speaker. ‘Something else is happening. I feel it… the Shapers are coming for us! Look!’

He switched the view on his holographic display. In the space around Port Royal, the unmistakeable forms of Shaper ships were appearing. Six of the long, spiny vessels had appeared as if from nowhere and were now converging on the base at speed.

‘We never even saw them coming,’ said Isaacs, the shock showing in his voice. ‘How the hell are we supposed to defend ourselves against these things?’

‘I am signalling the Order ships now. They are powering weapons and manoeuvring to engage the enemy,’ The Speaker reported.

‘They’re outnumbered three to one!’ Anna cried.

‘We must hold this base until we can jump!’ The Speaker replied. ‘We have no other options!’

As they watched, five of the Shaper vessels began to close on the Blessed Nothingness and the Uncaring Cosmos, apparently able to see through the Nahabe vessels’ cloaking shields. The sixth made straight for Port Royal at high speed.

‘I’m detecting massive energy spikes from the Shaper ships!’ cried The Speaker. They’re firing!’

‘What defences does this place have?’ said Isaacs to Anna. ‘We need something to fire back with!’

‘Nothing,’ Anna replied. ‘Nothing except whatever shielding the rock and ice can afford us.’

Five of the Shaper ship and the two Nahabe gunspheres were now locked in a deadly dance outside the asteroid. Violent, coruscating energies filled the space between the two giant globes and their sleek, shark-like attackers. The sixth Shaper vessel ploughed on towards Port Royal.

The Speaker’s image projection became distorted, in its place, a hideous, leering face with empty sockets loomed out of the darkness. It spoke. Its voice droned like the wings of a million insects.

‘Pitiful creatures. Why do you resist us? There can be no hiding place from us. We would know what secrets you have gathered. Give in to the inevitable. It is useless to resist the perfection of our intelligence.’

‘Shut it off!’ cried Anna. ‘That voice! It’s in my head!’

Isaacs could hear it too. It resonated inside his skull.

‘Surrender now and I promise you eternal bliss!’

‘Shut it off!’

‘Your friends are coming. You should welcome them… embrace them…’

The Speaker shut down the feed from outside. The voice died… but not entirely. Isaacs could hear it whispering still in the corners of his skull as it mocked, cajoled and threatened.

The Shaper vessel had reached ramming speed. Streaking towards Port Royal it angled itself towards the one weak point in the base’s structure: the docking bay doors. Behind it, the battle raged between its siblings and the Nahabe gunspheres. It was pleased. The two Nahabe ships were no real match for their greater numbers and superior technology. It angled its forward armour plates and shielding to minimise damage to its systems and then dove towards its target.

Maria crouched behind the ammo gurney and squeezed off another round at the figures skulking on the far side of the bay. The Order of Dead Suns’ arrival had pushed back the horde of enslaved humans. A dozen corpses maybe – it was hard to tell given their state – lay upon the deck plating between the parked ships. The rest had retreated into the shadows of the bay behind ships and maintenance units. It was if they were waiting for something.

It was then that the Shaper vessel hit the bay. Travelling at over five kilometres a second the tapered, shielded prow of the vessel collided with the doors of the docking bay like an armour piercing bullet, punching through the thick layers of metal as if they were no more substantial than a tin can.

The noise of the impact was deafening. Maria saw it happen. She saw the huge prow of the vessel punch through the doors, the shock shattering the inner plating and launching chunks of spinning metal across the bay. Ships parked near the doors were catapulted forward into one another. Vessels weighing hundreds of tonnes were thrown about like childrens’ toys and smashed. The prow of the ship kept on coming until the pointed tip embedded itself in the rear wall of the bay.

The man next to her, Wallis, died instantly, his head split open by a sliver of metal that blew brain matter out of the back of his skull. She herself was thrown backwards by shockwave and felt her lungs squeezed by the sudden overpressure as the atmosphere was compressed by the sudden introduction of so much mass into a confined space. She saw flying bodies, saw her comrades stumble and fall around her as the deck buckled and heaved or saw them die where they stood; pierced or flattened by flying debris. Even the Nahabe among the Order of Dead Suns seemed stunned by the shock. One floated drunkenly, its sarcophagus dented and scarred by a massive impact.

Then came the horrible whistling sound of atmospheric decompression. Alarms began to sound.

‘Everybody, out of the bay!’ Maria heard herself shout. ‘Back to the workshops, then seal the doors!’ She began to run. Her legs suddenly felt weak, jellied. She felt sick in her stomach. As she turned to look over her shoulder and beckon to those who hadn’t got the message she looked up at the looming prow of the alien ship and saw the plates of its armoured form begin to move, parting and reshaping themselves into exits, into boarding ramps. Within the ship, a horde of things now neither wholly man nor machine but which had once been men and women began to scramble down to the deck below.

Isaacs and Anna watched the unfolding scene with horror. Even in The Speaker’s chamber deep inside the base, the impact of the Shaper vessel had been severe enough to throw them both to the floor. As they watched, Maria’s people fell back in an uncontrolled rout under the covering fire of the Order of Dead Suns. With the survivors out of the main bay, the doors separating it from the maintenance workshops beyond were slammed down behind them. The horde of enslaved had been hot on their heels and now pounded futilely against the armoured steel.

‘I’m going down there.’ said Isaacs.

‘Are you out of fucking mind!’ said Anna. ‘Did you not just see what happened!?’

‘Yeah I did. I’m not just going to sit here. They need all the help they can get down there and besides… my ship is down there.’

‘You are out of your fucking mind.’

‘Yeah, I know. You stay here, where it’s safe!’

‘Not likely, let’s go,’ said Anna, firmly. ‘Someone has to watch your back.’

‘I love you…’ said Isaacs, with a lopsided grin.

‘I know. Try not to get yourself killed, dear.’

Isaacs and Anna arrived out of breath in the repair workshops. It was a large, cluttered space filled with half-built spacecraft components, industrial tools and heavy lifting gear that hung from tracks across the plated ceiling. They found Maria leaning against the landing gear of a stripped down corvette. She gave them a wordless nod of acknowledgement and then handed both of them automatic rail rifles that she had taken from the wounded. Isaacs noticed that her hands shook as she did so. Ahead of them, the doors to the main bay resounded to the sounds of heavy pounding. Dazed and confused men and women stood or sat around the workshop. Many still gripped their weapons. The Order of Dead Suns floated in a phalanx formation, facing the doors, their weapons primed and loaded.

‘Maria, you okay?’ said Anna, peering at the shell shocked woman.

‘Huh,’ Maria grunted. ‘Guess I’m in one piece. I never seen anything like that. Fucking ship came straight through the bay doors like they were made of paper. Didn’t even scratch it.’

‘How many did we lose?’

‘I’m not sure… I don’t know exactly who was in there when it all went off. Jesus… a lot. What just happened?’

‘We’ve been jumped by half a dozen Shaper ships,’ said Isaacs. ‘The Nahabe ships are trying to hold them off but…’

‘Only a matter of time, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Shit. We can hold them here for a while, but we just checked the feed from the bay and we saw them removing warheads from some of the ammunition still mounted on the ships in there. I’d say they’re planning blow their way through those doors. They aren’t as thick as the ones on the main dock entrance.’

‘How much atmosphere is left in the main bay?’ Isaacs asked.

‘None, whatsoever,’ Maria replied.

‘And those things are still moving around in there? How is that even possible?’

‘Beats me. I’d have thought explosive decompression would have stopped them. Seems not,’ Maria replied grimly.

‘And as soon as they blow these doors we’ll lose the air from this compartment too.’

‘Yeah, they can keep driving us back like that. Pretty soon we’ll have nowhere else to go.’

‘Hey guys, we came to help.’ Anita, with Farouk in tow, had bounded into the bay. She had an odd glint in her eye.

‘I try to stop her, but I don’t think she listens to me,’ said Farouk, sweating and apparently somewhat out of breath. ‘This one has no sense.’

‘Anita look…’ Isaacs began.

‘I know what’s behind those doors,’ Anita replied, nodding at the entrance to the bay. ‘I can look after myself.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. I watched your back in the Labyrinth, didn’t I? You ever wonder what happened to Laurence Spinetti?’

‘That shaved gorilla?’

‘Yeah. Bennett sent him after you. I took care of it. At least I… I tailed him for a while, then I told our Nahabe friends on the station who he was and what he was up to and they took care of business.’

‘Well thanks, but have you ever actually fired a gun at a person before? You couldn’t bring yourself to fire at another ship, and it’s a little different when you’re looking them in the eye from a few metres away.’

‘No, but those things aren’t really people anymore, are they? Look, you ever wonder what a girl like me is doing mixed up with the Hidden Hand?’

‘I did, actually.’

‘My Mum and Dad are really dead, okay? I lied to you. Yeah they did run their own haulage business, until their ship got knocked out of its jump outside the Hadar system. One of the Hidden Hand ships answered the automated distress call, but it was too late. When they pulled the ship’s logs it was clear to them what had happened. Luckily for me I was on my way back from Earth at the time. End of the summer term at Berkeley, see? I came back to that…’ she sighed. ‘But the Hidden Hand took me in and I used my parent’s business contacts to help them source supplies. So, now you know all about me, how about giving me a fucking gun, I wanna kill me some Shapers.’

‘Ach, me too,’ said Farouk. ‘I don’t want to hide in this rock, waiting for them to come for me.’

‘Alright,’ said Maria. ‘Take whatever you want from the wounded. We need as many guns as possible once they come though.’

‘Ain’t gonna do us much good if we can’t breathe,’ said Isaacs. ‘There any pressure suits in this place we could use?’

The Blessed Nothingness was in trouble. Whilst two of the Shaper ships duelled with the Uncaring Cosmos, the remaining three had surrounded the gunsphere and were pouring fire into it. Large chunks of the armoured hull had been torn away and whilst the crew struggled to get the vessel’s shields back up, it seemed to be a lost cause. The Blessed Nothingness’s movements were sluggish and ungainly as it leaked atmosphere and reactor coolants into the vacuum. It struggled to bring its remaining banks of weapons to bear on the swooping predators that had it cornered. Before the ship died completely, its Captain dumped the entire contents of its sensor logs into Port Royal’s systems.

A quick search of the equipment lockers at the back of the workshops revealed a rack of twenty environment suits. Although not armoured for combat, the suits were toughened and padded to industrial safety standards for working in a vacuum. They would afford some protection in combat, but not much, and in addition they were fitted with comm. units. The suits were doled out to the twenty most able bodied survivors. Even so, the last two were given to individuals who could barely stand. Finally suited up, the survivors stood in a ragged row behind the hulking forms of the Nahabe, whilst the wounded retreated deeper into the asteroid to join the rest of the Hidden Hand now setting up defences in the corridors and compartments beyond. The scrabbling and banging noises against the bay doors had ceased for a moment.

‘They’re up to something,’ whispered Farouk. ‘It’s too quiet.’

‘Everybody stay frosty,’ Isaacs replied. ‘Find some cover to shoot from.’

‘This place has no other entrances that they could fit through, save those doors,’ said Anna. ‘They have to come through there.’

Isaacs checked his weapon.

‘We’re coming for you,’ said a voice in a whisper inside their helmets.

‘Shit, did anyone else hear that?’ said Anita.

‘Copy that,’ Maria replied. ‘I don’t think it was on the comm. either.’

‘Why do you resist us? Come now, join with us. Let us all be good friends… good friends…’

‘What the fuck is that?’ said one of Maria’s people.

‘It’s that ship,’ said Isaacs. ‘It’s getting inside our heads. Those two archaeologists we picked up at Rhyolite said something similar about the one they found down there, about it messing with their thoughts. Try to ignore it!’

‘You disappoint me,’ said the voice. ‘We could have such fun together. Why don’t you ask the ones who have already gained enlightenment? They’re coming to talk to you right now.’

In that instant, the bay doors were shattered with a terrific explosion. When the smoke cleared, a ragged hole had been blown in their centre, and then bestial figures began to pour through the hole, struggling against the rushing atmosphere being sucked into the vacuum behind them. The assembled humans and Nahabe opened fire.

Figures staggered and fell under the storm of bullets and energy beams. Still they kept on coming, clawing their way across the floor on the stumps of limbs, on fire, slithering on their own blood and entrails. Some had gotten hold of weapons from the fallen still in the bay. A desultory barrage of disorganised return fire flew back at the defenders, pinging off the metal around them.

‘Shoot them in the head!’ cried Isaacs loosed off a volley of shots, then ducked back to reload his weapon. He glanced around for a moment. Anita was shooting from the hip, an almost crazed expression on her face as she fired indiscriminately into the mob. Anna, meanwhile, had taken shelter in the shadow of a ground power unit and placed carefully aimed shots that sent figures stumbling and falling. Farouk fired in short bursts from a steady shoulder position while rest of the Hidden Hand still in the bay had taken up firing positions amidst the machinery and ship parts. Isaacs slammed another magazine back into his weapon and added his fire to their own.

‘Cover us!’ Isaacs heard the Lord Protector bellow from his translator unit, as brandishing its sword arm, it charged into the mob of enslaved people with two other Nahabe who also sported hand to hand combat weapons. Using their sarcophagi like battering rams they flew straight at the mob of figures, knocked them back with sufficient force to kill some of them outright. Others simply got back up and leapt at them. Blades flashed. Struggling figures fell. A pile of dismembered, twitching bodies began to grow around the Lord Protector. The Hidden Hand poured fire onto the snarling figures.

The Blessed Nothingness was dying. As a series of explosions wracked the ship, the Shaper ships retreated from the broken vessel. Before the ship’s main reactor finally gave in to the inevitable, her captain poured her remaining energy reserves into the drive systems and made to ram the nearest Shaper ship. This final act was enough. The surge of energy finally broke the Blessed Nothingness’ reactor fuel containment fields, allowing its antimatter contents to escape into the ship. The explosion from kilos of antimatter interacting with the matter of the ship was blinding. With one hundred per cent mass-energy conversion it exploded the Blessed Nothingness with the force of several thousand hydrogen bombs. The blast completely annihilated the Nahabe vessel and crippled the three Shaper ships that had taken it down. Their melted, shattered forms writhed as if in agony in the void, their shining crystal forms turning blacker as their systems shut down. The two remaining ships regarded their stricken comrades for a moment, and then concentrated their fire onto the Uncaring Cosmos.

Inside the base, the lights flickered and died for a moment as the EM shockwave washed over the base before backup generators kicked in. The Lord Protector and his men were winning the fight. The attack had been blunted by their charge. The Nahabe scented victory.

‘No retreat! No surrender! Death to the world slayers! Kill them all!’ The Lord Protector then bellowing again in his own language as his sword arm cleaved bodies left and right.

It was a temporary reprieve. Something else was squeezing its way through the gap in the doors. A massive, tank-like body of armoured segments was slung between four towering, crab-like legs. It was difficult to tell where the original creature ended and its augmentation began, such was the level of cybernetic alteration. Its turtle-like head was a mass of sensor blisters and lenses. From its belly sprouted grasping, metallic tentacles and manipulator arms whilst from its back grew a long, swivelling, weapon emplacement. It howled, its mouth displaying serried rows of glittering, crystal fangs. Then it charged the Lord Protector.

The creature seemed to shrug off the storm of bullets as little more than the annoying stings of insects as it bore down on the three Nahabe. Energised blades drew lines of sparking energy from its carapace armour as it knocked the three floating forms back with the impact of its body. Metallic tentacles wrapped themselves around the Lord Protector’s carapace as he fought valiantly to free himself, stabbing again and again at that awful, biomechanical visage. The creature opened its fanged mouth wide. Concentrated energy was building within; a ball of plasma held in place with energy fields, which now released their cargo into the creature’s quarry.

A howl of anguish erupted from the remaining Nahabe as the creature dropped the melted, fused remains of the Lord Protector, now immolated inside his armour, to the deck with a dull clang. The two who had charged into battle with him appeared to enter some sort of killing frenzy, striking wildly against the massive armoured thing. The creature blew one apart with its dorsal cannon, the other, it plucked struggling from the fight with its tentacles and held its thrashing form aloft. It jaws widened once more, energy building within. The Nahabe gave a defiant war-cry and then self destructed.

The blast took off the creature’s head. Decapitated, it collapsed to the deck with a crash, scattering gore and shredded alien machinery. The enslaved creatures around it paused for a second. Some seemed confused, like sleepers suddenly waking from a dream. Isaacs saw one woman look at her freshly augmented blade arms and cry out in horror at her own appearance. Then the moment passed, control re-asserted itself and they resumed their assault.

‘Did you see that?’ Isaacs cried out. ‘That thing must have been controlling them.’

‘Looks like the ship has stepped in to take over though,’ Anna replied. ‘They don’t seem to want to let up.’

The onrushing wave of charging figures broke against the Order’s battle line; men and women who had once served the Commonwealth Navy and were now slavering beasts. They hit them in a human wave, surging through them in a torrent of struggling figures.

Anita had crept forward of the rest of the group during the fight, having depleted her rail-rifle rounds and switched a back-up shotgun grabbed from one of the wounded. Desperately she fired again and again at the onrushing tide of the enslaved.

Isaacs saw what was happening. He ran forward, firing from the shoulder, crying out to her to turn and flee. Enslaved dropped twitching to the deck. It wasn’t enough. The tide broke over Anita, dragging her down under a wave of thrashing limbs. Isaacs cried out and heard her screams. Desperately he and the others sprayed the onrushing figures with fire, forcing them back as he charged forwards. But to no avail.

Many of the enslaved had taken explosives from the ships in the docking bay and had turned themselves into human bombs. The Order and the Hidden Hand poured shot after shot into the mob, but it wasn’t enough. They deadly cargoes exploded against the engraved carapaces of the Nahabe warriors, who, close to death, touched off their own self destruct charges as a final act of defiance. A few managed to slip through where they were cut down by the Hidden Hand, the rest touched off their bombs where they could. Isaacs was blown flat by the cascade of explosions. He screamed Anita’s name until he was hoarse.

The end of the bay was devastated. A few lurching, snarling figures stalked among the wreckage. The Hidden Hand advanced and despatched the last remaining enslaved humans with gunshots to the skull. Under the circumstances, it was a mercy. Upon close inspection it was clear that many of the unfortunates had been altered in some way. Aside from the horrible creatures buried in their skulls, many sported cybernetic augmentations: blade-like arms, sensor cluster eyes, armoured patches of skin or razor sharp teeth. In addition, the augmentations appeared seamless with the victims’ bodies. It was as if the mechanical components had always been a part of them. The surgery used to attach them was flawless. But there was no standardised pattern for the alterations. It was as if whoever had committed these violations had been experimenting, testing out different designs with each one. Perhaps this whole encounter had been a field test of some kind.

The Nahabe had all died where they had fought. Their armoured sarcophagi, that had once seemed inviolate and had been gloriously adorned, lay cracked and melted upon the bloody deck. Isaacs made the mistake of peering inside the Lord Protector’s armour and wished he hadn’t.

Of Anita, there was no sign.

Anna saw Isaacs’ grim expression through his suit’s visor.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘I’ve had better days.’ He said numbly and gestured at the fallen Nahabe. ‘I suppose it’s what they would have wanted, to die in battle like this.’

‘I don’t suppose it made it any easier.’

‘No, I don’t suppose it did. Poor Anita…’ he choked back a sob.

‘I know.’

‘She was… she just a fucking college kid! Oh Jesus…’

Anna came forward and put her arms around him.

‘I hope she died in the explosions rather than be captured,’ Isaacs continued, fighting back tears and failing. ‘I don’t think I could face… seeing her like those others.’

‘Yeah,’ Anna nodded quickly. ‘Yeah, you’re right about that.’

‘She was just a kid. It isn’t fucking fair! Those motherfuckers…’

Isaacs slammed a glove hand against a stanchion in anger. Anna could hear him gasping for breath over his suit comms, saw the tears glistening behind his visor. She waited a moment until she felt him breathing normally.

‘What the hell was that thing, that huge…’ she gestured at the fallen, armoured giant.

‘I have no idea,’ said Isaacs. ‘I think we can assume that the bastards have defeated and enslaved other races in this galaxy before they reached us. See, it’s definitely organic, just heavily modified. Whether it was taken from its home and surgically altered or whether it was grown for the job: well your guess is as good as mine.’

‘Do you think it knew what had been done to it? Do you think it was aware? Do you think those poor people…?’

‘I don’t know,’ Isaacs said hurriedly, cutting her off. ‘I don’t want to think about it.’

Their suit comms crackled into life.

‘Come in. Is anyone picking this up? This is The Speaker to all Hidden Hand still in the bays.’

‘Isaacs here, what’s going on?’

‘Finally. Are you alright?’

‘That depends. I’m still in one piece. Maria’s team lost a lot of people in the main bay but we held them here. Anita’s missing, presumed dead.’

The Speaker paused for a moment, as if stunned.

‘Gods…’ it said finally. ‘I’m afraid I was out of contact for much of the fight. All comms got knocked offline by the EMP blast. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.’

‘What EMP blast?’

‘The Blessed Nothingness has gone down with all hands, its reactor… never mind. I can’t raise any of the Order on the comm.’

‘I’m sorry Speaker, but they’re all dead. They went down fighting… there were just too many of those, but the Order saved us. They killed almost all of the Enslaved.’

Isaacs heard The Speaker utter what sounded like a quick prayer in its own language before it continued.

‘They died well, honourably. Do not mourn them. This may ultimately work in our favour. The Order will be driven mad by this loss. They will demand vengeance for the death of so senior a commander. Full scale Holy War is inevitable.’

‘Great,’ said Anna. ‘But our immediate problem is that that ship is still inside the docking bay. We don’t know how many more of those things might be inside, or what it’s capable of doing to this base with its own weapons.’

‘The Uncaring Cosmos is still engaged in fighting two of the Shaper ships. It is unlikely that she will be able to attack the other. Nevertheless, we must remove it somehow; it is interfering with the jump computations. Whether intentionally or not, its multidimensional nature is interfering with the translation drive’s calculations. The wave forms of particles that exist in multiple planes cannot be yet be quantified, yet the Shaper vessel sits within the radius affected by the drive.’

‘We need to get in there and blow that thing back out of the bay doors whilst we still have the chance,’ said Isaacs. ‘That thing can just sit there until its buddies have killed the remaining Nahabe ship and are able to come and help with their own forces. Any thoughts on how we do that? That fucking thing is a kilometre in length, not to mention angry and heavily armed.’

‘I might know a way,’ said Anna. ‘Follow me. It’s time we got our own back’

A further set of armoured doors led off the repair bay into Port Royal’s spacecraft armoury. Here, weapons and ammunition were stacked in neat rows inside blast proof casings. There were particle beam cannons, rail guns, lasers, missiles and rockets of all kinds and countless drums of bullets and packs of energy cells. Anna strode to the back of the bay towards a large crate that seemed more heavily protected than the rest. She tapped a lengthy code into the keypad set into it and the crate clicked open. The crate was mostly empty, but inside were a few remaining missile warheads. Isaacs peered inside and immediately saw the warning logos on the conical devices.

‘Antimatter,’ he said, stating the obvious.

‘Yep.’

‘Okay… I’m not going to like this, am I?’

‘Maybe not, but I think it’s our only chance.’

‘Go on.’

‘It was when The Speaker mentioned the Blessed Nothingness going down and the blast taking out some of the Shaper ships. The Nahabe use antimatter in their drive systems rather than fusion power. It reminded me that we had these.’

‘Fine. How do we blow up the Shaper ship in the bay without killing ourselves? One of these little things has the explosive power of a tactical nuke.’

‘Okay, I’ll show you,’ said Anna and lifted one of the warheads out of the crate with infinite care and placed it on a workbench. She proceeded to work a series of small clips around the base of the device and then removed the nose cone’s casing. Inside, were a dozen white spheres slightly larger than golf balls.

‘Okay, these weapons have two fire modes: One in which all of these little buggers go off at once, and another where it acts as a MIRV and lobs each of these at a different targets. These magnetic containment spheres each contain a tiny amount of AM. The casings are made of paper thin porcelain, so they shatter on impact and release their cargo. Each of these babies should explode with the power of one kiloton.’

‘Okay, you still haven’t explained how you intend to attack that ship with these without killing us all in the process, not to mention destroying the rest of our fleet docked in there.’ said Isaacs sceptically.

‘I thought about that too. The docking bay is very heavily shielded internally, and there’s about a foot of lead around it. It should be able to withstand the blast without too much trouble and stop the radiation from reaching the rest of the base. Plus, the lack of atmosphere will reduce the compression effects of any blast. The doors into the adjoining bay will have come down when the bay depressurised so your precious ship is safe, Cal.’

‘Yeah, so? Whoever gets to go and set this off is a goner, not to mention the fact that I doubt that that ship is just going to let us fire this thing at it. It’s an alien warship with technology billions of years ahead of our own. You stick your head round that gap in the door and it’s adios I’m afraid. You’ll be lucky if there’s anything to scrape off the deck.’

‘I thought about that too. There are ducts running around the outside of the bay that are part of the atmospheric system - for if the bay needs to be flooded or drained of its atmosphere. One of these runs across the top of the middle of the bay. We get someone in there and get them to drop these spheres through one of the vents.’

‘Yeah, and then they get their face melted by the blast, brilliant.’

‘Ah no, see we still have control over the artificial gravity in there. We turn it down to the minimum; we drop the spheres through, ever so slowly, and then shut the vent manually before turning the gravity up to maximum. The spheres fall and break and… kaboom!’

‘Kaboom indeed.’

‘It might not kill it, but my guess is that this thing is like an animal. If we hurt it, it’ll try and run, hopefully back out into space. Then we can make our escape too. So, we get you into the duct and we’ll get this over with.’

‘Me?’

‘Yeah. Do it for Anita, Cal. It’s payback time.’

‘Fuck, yeah.’

Isaacs cursed his wife as he struggled along the inside of the duct. She knew how to push his buttons alright. But he was, after all, doing this for Anita. He badly wanted revenge now. That fucking ship in the bay was going to feel some pain now; he’d make sure of that.

He was still in his suit, since there was no atmosphere to speak of inside the duct, and the bulky garment almost touched the sides of the narrow, metal tunnel as he slid himself forward on his belly. The warhead had been transferred to a smaller, padded box which he pushed along ahead of him. There was no light except the meagre glow from his suit lights and the dim glow ahead of the vents that led down into the docking bay. The duct had angled steadily upwards at first, but now he was on the level section over the bay and the going was a bit easier. He still wondered how he’d ended up being the one to do this, though no-one else seemed too eager to volunteer except Farouk and he was too large to fit inside the duct. Isaacs had promised the big man that he get his chance for payback for Anita another time. The rest of the Hidden Hand had retreated from the repair bay and the doors had been sealed.

The pressure on his mind was growing stronger, the voice more audible the closer he got to the ship.

‘We are coming for you, little creatures. It is useless to deny the inevitable. Come and join us in an eternity of bliss… an eternity in the darkness of the void… you should embrace the chance to achieve perfection…. we shall remake you anew, as we remade the others.’ Isaacs got a mental glimpse of alien surgical instruments, of figures strapped to operating tables, of cold, glinting metals slicing warm, vulnerable flesh. ‘But for those who join willingly… we save our most precious gifts for them, our most loyal servants.’ He saw hideous, grub like creatures, writhing in ecstasy; he saw human figures sprouting nano-technological growths, faces distorted by cancer-like, metallic tumours that winked with lights, skin split by whip-like tendrils and pulsing components. He wondered whether the ship could read his mind and knew his intentions or whether it was just broadcasting this stuff into the base as a form of psychological warfare. He tried to blot it out and pressed on.

He dragged a thin cable after him too, that he unwound from a spool on his belt. They couldn’t risk radio transmissions for fear of the ship listening in so this was his lifeline to the rest of the base. It added to his difficulties as it kept getting tangled around his feet, but there wasn’t much choice. He would need to signal to the others when he was ready.

‘Anna, the rest of you, are you seeing any of this?’

‘The horrible visions? Yeah we are,’ his wife replied. ‘Try to ignore it, it’s trying to spook us.’

‘Consider me fully spooked then,’ he replied grimly and dragged himself forward.

He arrived, eventually, drenched in sweat and out of breath, at the first vent. Peering downwards through the slatted aperture he could see the bow section of the warship, gleaming coldly in the bay lighting thirty metres below. As he watched, he saw the crystalline plates move rhythmically. It was almost as if the thing were breathing. It made his skin crawl just to look at it. It was just like the ship he had seen in his nightmares for the past fifteen years.

Carefully, he removed the warhead from its box and stood it on end on the floor of the duct, then with some difficulty he unclipped the nose cone latches and removed it – the thick gloves he wore making the process difficult. The dozen fragile spheres seemed to glow in the beam of his suit light. He realised that he was breathing heavily from the tension. They were so fragile, like eggshells. If he were to break one of them…

He took a moment to calm himself and inspect the warhead. Each sphere was held in place by a small magnetic clip at its base. There was the tiniest of release buttons next to each. Isaacs could barely see the black button against its black background in the dim light. His thick gloves would make it difficult to reach one without risking damage to the sphere above. Not to mention the fact that his helmet’s faceplate was beginning the steam up as he was sweating so much, making it hard to see what he was doing. Using his little finger he carefully pressed one and was gratified when it came loose. He tipped it into his gloved hand, placed it carefully inside the box that he had carried the warhead in, then proceeded to release the other eleven. Finally, with each delicate sphere unclipped, he breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Isaacs here. I’m at the vent. I’m ready to go. Knock off the gravity.’

Almost instantly he felt himself rise slightly off the floor. Reaching carefully down he plucked one of the spheres from the box, taking care not to knock the others flying before closing the lid. He reached over and carefully pushed the sphere through the slats of the vent. When he was satisfied that it was clear he used the lever set into the side of the vent to slowly close it. On both the outside and inside, an armoured panel slid smoothly back into place to cover the vent’s metal grille. Isaacs began to slide himself away, taking the box of deadly eggshells with him.

‘Okay,’ he signalled. ‘I’m clear. Crank up the gravity.’

There was second’s pause.

The bomb fell and then it detonated across the warship’s nose. With no air in the bay, the explosion made no sound, but contained within the small space, the violence of the sudden matter-energy conversion was magnified. A storm of energy and radiation washed across the hull of the Shaper vessel.

Isaacs became aware of the successful detonation when he was flung against the ceiling of the vent by the violent jolt from the blast. Banging his head violently against the metal he struggled to keep hold of the box of warheads and simultaneously, his mind was pierced by a horrendous, enraged shriek.

There were further jolts that he felt through the metal of the duct.

He had hurt the ship. He had hurt it! He could edged back to the vent and cranked it back open and looked down. The front of the ship appeared structurally undamaged but the armoured plates around the bow had assumed a mottled appearance. The hull material had lost its lustrous shine. The vessel thrashed angrily like a trapped animal. The bay around its nose was buckled and glowed from the heat. In places the material appeared almost molten. Isaacs removed two more of the spheres from the box.

‘Okay, gravity off,’ he signalled and repeated the process of pushing the spheres through the vent then closing it.

‘Gravity on again.’

The second explosion was, as he had hoped, even more devastating, and the mental shriek from the ship as it was lashed by radiation was worse still. Isaacs gasped from the pain inside his skull. It was almost unbearable, but this time he knew that he’d really hurt the ship. He crept back and tried to open the vent. It took several tries before it would open. The grating itself glowed from the heat.

The ship’s movements had become more violent. Confused and blinded by pain and rage it was lashing out at everything around it. Evidently its hull - formed from backwards pointing spines - was preventing it from backing out of the bay. Isaacs decided to give it more of an incentive. He reached for more spheres. As he did so, the warship powered its weapons and decided to try and burn its way out of the docking bay. Isaacs saw a tell-tale shimmer build around the tip of some of the spines and somehow knew what was coming. As the gravity went off again he pushed a handful of the spheres through the vent and was halfway through sliding it closed when it jammed.

Isaacs swore. The heat from the explosion must have caused the vent cover, or its mechanism, to expand. He banged the lever furiously as the ship lashed the bay below with energy from its main guns. If one of those beams should touch even one of those tiny spheres now floating out of reach below…

The vent was truly stuck. There was nothing else for it. Isaacs decided to make a break for it. Gripping the box tightly he started to make his way back down the duct in zero-gravity. At any moment he expected a violent explosion and its accompanying dose of deadly radiation. His heart thudded in his chest, his vision was blurred from the stinging sweat that ran into his eyes.

‘Cal, this is Anna. Is everything okay? We’re going to turn up the gravity again.’

‘Give me a minute!’ he yelled into the comm. ‘I couldn’t get the vent closed! I need to get clear!’

‘Okay. But hurry up, that thing is firing its guns inside the bay!’

‘Don’t you think I know that!?’ he screamed, as the duct shook violently.

The duct stretched ahead of him, dark and seemingly endless. He shoved his weary body ever forwards until he could barely carry on, then lay panting, suspending in mid-air in zero-gee.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Do it.’

Gravity dropped him to the floor. Then the world around him lurched violently. Seconds later a scorching wind came searing down the duct, but inside his suit, Isaacs was well protected.

The half-dozen antimatter warheads fell onto the nose of the Shaper warship and detonated as one in a blinding explosion of heat, light, and gamma radiation. The ship screamed as the bay turned molten around it and its own, graceful form was ravaged by the intense blast. It thrashed in pain and howled. Powering its engines to full reverse it forced its way back out of the bay, firing its rear facing weapons in an attempt to free itself. Bay doors fractured and bent. Delicate crystalline spines shattered. It emerged into space, a wounded thing, enraged and vengeful. Those pitiful creatures had hurt it! They would pay for that! It would leave none alive. It would enjoy digging them out of their hiding places and annihilating every single last one of them. It would burrow through this pitiful rock and scoop out its insides and them with it!

Powering its remaining forward guns it raked Port Royal with fire, and discovered, to its bemusement, that they had no effect, that the energy from its weapons appeared frozen in space a few metres from the surface of the base. The surviving Nahabe ship had swooped in close to the base and as the Shaper ship looked at it, it saw that fire from its companions also appeared frozen a short distance from the battered, near crippled vessel.

There was a stasis field in place encompassing the entire structure

Forty minutes later whilst it and its brethren were examining the stasis field, Port Royal suddenly vanished, leaving a core of rapidly whirling metal components. The ship, despite its anger and pain, was intrigued.

Isaacs was dragged from the duct and led back into the base where there was still atmosphere and then removed his helmet. A crowd of Hidden Hand whooped and applauded him as he sat down heavily on the nearest flat surface he could find. Anna leant over and kissed him, before starting to undo his suit’s many clasps.

‘I did it! I fucking did it!’ he gasped, wiping the sweat from his face. ‘Is it dead?’

‘Don’t think so,’ Anna replied. ‘But it left in an awful hurry.’

‘Good enough. Where did we jump to?’ he asked.

‘Achernar. We get a grandstand seat for Cox’s assault on the core systems.’

‘Great,’ Isaacs replied and wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘Out of the frying pan and into the fire.’

Chapter 39

The carrier groups hung, poised, above the pole of Achernar. The oblate star shone a brilliant blue white below them, harshly outlining the utilitarian lines of the slab-like vessels and their accompanying squadrons of warships. Each of the carrier groups was a powerful force in its own right, comprising of the large, heavily armed vessel itself and its squadrons of fighters and bombers, plus four Titan class destroyers, four Callisto defensive flak cruisers, two Europa class frigates and two Tethys class frigate variants armed with tactical missile launchers. Now, six such groups stood together to defend the Achernar system from the incoming threat.

Haines surveyed his forces on his tactical display and noted that the vessels under his command were keeping perfect combat formation, the smaller warships forming layered, defensive boxes around the carriers. He zoomed the view outwards to encompass the entire system and noted the traces of the incoming renegade fleet under Cox’s command. Cox had an almost equal number of ships at his disposal. Haines already knew how he intended to deal with them.

He had divided his own fleet into two components. The first, led by his own vessel, the Abraham Lincoln, containing its group plus that of the Saturn class carrier Augustus Caesar and the Jupiter class Alexander, would jump in behind Cox’s fleet once it emerged from hyperspace, using the advantage of the enemy’s sensor blindness during the jump to achieve tactical surprise and attack the vulnerable aft sections of the renegade vessels, destroying or disabling as many as possible. A second component led by the Qin Shi Huangdi and containing the Richard the Lionheart and the Tamurlane groups would jump in from the opposite direction and time its arrival for a few minutes after the initial attack. Cox’s fleet would be forced to divide its attention between two separate opponents and, already closely grouped from their synchronised jump, they would find it difficult to manoeuvre to do so. Haines hoped that confusion would reign, though with the vessels under the control of the Shapers he wondered just how their non-human intelligences would react under the circumstances.

There was only one problem: it still wasn’t clear where exactly within the system the enemy fleet was headed. His sensors officer, Lieutenant Commander Hong had determined that Cox’s ships were heading for the inhabited moons around the sixth planet, but the current alignment of the moons made it difficult to determine precisely which one. Haines guessed Orinoco, since it served as the system’s capital, but he needed to be sure before he committed his forces. Cox’s fleet were still outside the system. Haines turned to his comms officer, Ensign Le Bray.

‘Ensign, get me a line to the Governor. Don’t take no for an answer.’

‘Sir.’

Vincent Green, duly elected Governor of the Achernar system had been rather dismissive of Haines’s warnings, even hostile, when, upon arriving in the system, the Admiral had attempted to warn him about the impending threat. He had declined to alert local defensive forces, instead insisting that Achernar was not going to take sides for or against Earth and that Cox’s fleet would not be unduly helped or hindered since in Green’s words they may be ‘just passing through.’

Haines had concluded then that the man was either a fool, or that the Shapers had got to him too.

Green’s carefully manicured features appeared in Haines’s HUD. He appeared irritated at the intrusion.

‘Yes Admiral, what can I do for you now?’ he said, sounding bored.

‘You can take my warnings seriously, Governor,’ said Haines, firmly. ‘I urge you to activate all ground and space based defences around Tethys immediately.’

‘Admiral, as I have already said…’

‘Goddamn it, listen to me!’ Haines growled. ‘You don’t get to sit this one out! This isn’t about politics, this is war! Cox is no longer entirely human, neither are the crews of the ships under his command. If they take this system, they’ll use it as a forward base from which to attack Earth!’

‘So you say. What proof do we have of alien involvement? This could all just be black propaganda to discredit Morgan and Cox once they made accusations against the President and yourself. Maybe they’re trying to stop a coup, not cause one? My constituents don’t wish to get involved.’

‘Rheinhold is dead and yes, he was a crook. But this isn’t about one man; this is about the future of the species. I have seen with my own eyes what the Shapers are capable of. If they take this system, your getting reelected will hardly be an issue.’

‘Maybe if you tried talking to Morgan, perhaps you could come to some accommodation.’

‘We’ve had no transmissions from the Spica system in over a week. The system has gone dark. Don’t you get it? These people are just hosts for the Shapers now? They are not the men and women we once knew! You can’t negotiate!’

Green sighed. ‘Very well. I’ll put the system’s defences on standby and call up the Planetary Guard, but we won’t initiate any hostile actions, we won’t fire unless fired upon.’

‘Good enough,’ Haines replied. ‘Thank you, Governor. Haines out.’ He turned to Lieutenant Commander Hong. ‘Lieutenant, any update on the destination of Cox’s fleet?’

‘Sir, I and my counterparts on the other ships are pooling our data. The hope is that we can triangulate our results for a better fix.’

‘Okay, would it help if we moved the ships further apart?’

‘Yes it would, sir.’

‘Fine. I’ll order the two groups to separate. Ensign le Bray, put me through to the other ships.’

‘Sir.’

‘All ships, this is Haines. Group One is to remain here with me, Group Two, you are to move ten thousand kilometres to port and keep scanning the enemy fleet, Haines out.’

With the two groups now separated, the differing sensor readouts gave the fleet a better fix on the eventual destination of the incoming enemy ships.

‘Sir.’

‘Mr Hong?’

‘I have the destination of Cox’s fleet,’ replied Hong, intent on his console display. ‘As we suspected, they’re headed for Orinoco. Their current trajectory will intersect with Orinoco Station’s position; I’d say they’re trying to take the orbital.’

‘Makes sense.’ Haines nodded. ‘Good work Mr Hong. Helm, lay in a course for Orinoco Station. Make sure you bring us in behind Cox’s fleet. Transmit the coordinates to Group Two. Ensign le Bray?’

‘Yes sir?’

‘Transmit this information to Orinoco’s planetary defence command. When you’ve done that, put me through to the entire fleet.’

‘Sir.’

‘Mr Hong, time until Cox’s fleet arrives at Orinoco Station?’

‘Twenty two minutes sir.’

‘Fine, we jump in fifteen minutes.’

Haines turned to his XO, Jane Baldwin. ‘Commander, how would you gauge morale amongst our people at the moment?’

‘A little jittery sir, most of them are still unsure about fighting our own people.’

‘That’s the thing Commander: they aren’t our own people anymore.’

‘You need to make them see that, sir.’

‘Sir, I have a channel open to the rest of the fleet,’ le Bray reported

‘Thank you, Ensign.’ Haines cleared his throat and then spoke. ‘This is Admiral Haines to all ships. In just fifteen minutes we are jump to Orinoco to defend its citizens from the Shaper threat. I don’t expect the forthcoming battle to be easy, but I know that you will all do your duty. I am proud to say that I serve with the finest men and women in the Commonwealth. Unfortunately, today we must fight against ships which we were once proud to serve alongside. Those ships, their crews, our friends and comrades have been taken over by the enemy. The people we once knew aboard them are dead, only their bodies remain in a gross parody of life. We cannot for a moment hesitate in our duty. We fight today to avenge the memories of those whom we lost to the Shapers, and to defend our worlds from tyranny and subjugation. There will be no surrender and no quarter will be given for we are to expect none from the enemy. I expect you all to fight to the last as I intend to. The only way the Shapers are taking this ship is when they blow it out from under me. Good luck everyone. Haines out.’

Cox’s fleet emerged from hyperspace outside the traffic control zone around Orinoco Station. The massive carriers were formed up in a close, diamond formation, with Cox’s flagship the Germanicus and the Marine assault carrier Marathon at the centre. Fore and aft were the Saturn class carrier Chester W. Nimitz and the Jupiter class carrier Ghenghis Khan respectively whilst the Hector and the Andre Massena held perfect station to port and starboard. Each carrier was surrounded by a further box formation of smaller warships.

Civilian vessels were streaming in lines from the space around the orbital station. The newly arrived fleet began to charge towards it at full power, ploughing through the myriad of smaller ships that now scattered, desperately tried to evade the onrushing, slab sided warships. Civilian craft looped and banked chaotically before the charging armoured juggernauts. Those that failed to move quickly enough were fired upon to clear the way for the warships. The traffic control channel was filled with a cacophony of screams and angry, desperate shouts. It made no difference, the warships charged onwards.

Space twenty kilometres aft of the newly arrived fleet twisted, and deposited a second, smaller fleet of three carrier groups. Haines’s forces had arrived on schedule.

Haines sat forward in his seat, his hands gripping the padded arms. He took one look at the scene laid out in front of him through the bridge windows, annotated by the display fed to him via his HUD monocle and began to issue orders.

‘All ships, this is Haines. Target the engines of the Ghenghis Khan’s group and launch the bombers. Gunnery control, target the engines of the Ghenghis Khan and fire everything we have.’

‘Sir, the renegade fleet is firing on civilian vessels!’ cried Hong. ‘In addition we are detecting multiple warheads inbound to Orinoco Station.’

‘They must be trying to take down the asteroid’s defences. They’ll be preparing to board the station. That Marine carrier has to go… all in good time.’

As he spoke, Haines felt the deck tremor beneath his feet. As he watched, a brilliant spear of plasma leapt from the Lincoln’s main gun and struck the Ghenghis Khan directly through the aft shield engine gap, striking the ship’s power plant with the force of an unleashed star. The Lincoln’s deck batteries joined in with volleys of particle beam fire. There was a series of secondary explosions amidst the slagged remains of the vessel’s power plant before a blinding flash engulfed the two kilometre ship. Still in close formation, the shock wave washed over the Ghenghis Khan’s escort destroyers, bathing them in super heated plasma and deadly radiation. They wallowed, half crippled by the blast, venting atmosphere. Haines felt a swell of grim satisfaction.

‘Gunnery, target those flak cruisers, we need a clear run for our bombers to finish them off.’

The Lincoln’s turrets switched their fire accordingly as brilliant lines of fire from the other ships cascaded across the Ghenghis Khan’s group. Meanwhile the carrier’s plasma cannon was recharging for another shot The glinting specks of the Lincoln’s bomber squadrons could be seen closing in on the stricken warships like a swarm of angry fireflies. The ships in the other groups had realised what was happening to the rear of their position and two groups were now coming about to engage Haines’s ships.

‘Sir, all four Jupiter class carriers and the Nimitz are launching fighters and bombers,’ Hong reported. ‘The Marathon and her group are still heading towards the station. Looks like the Nimitz and the Hector groups are attempting to come about engage us. The others are maintaining their heading and facing.’

‘I’d say that they’ve just detected our other ships,’ Baldwin commented.

‘Thank you Mr Hong. Commander Baldwin, I concur. They’re not stupid.’

‘Sir, Orinoco Station is reporting massive damage to their surface mounted defences,’ le Bray reported. ‘So far the interior of the station and the dock are undamaged.’

‘That asteroid should be able to withstand a fair amount of punishment,’ said Baldwin. ‘I’m assuming Cox wants to take it in one piece.’

As Haines watched, one of the Khan group’s flak cruisers, the Gibson, erupted in a ball of fire, meanwhile the other three in the group had lost power to their shields. He was pleased to see that the enemy fleet’s attempts to manoeuvre and come about to engage his vessels, were, as he had hoped, proving somewhat difficult. Haines could tell that they were trying to spread themselves out, though to do so too much would leave vessels isolated and outside the overlapping fields of fire from other ships. He sincerely hoped that they would make that mistake. Already he could see the bomber wings from his carriers taking the Khan group’s destroyers apart with deadly precision. Their hulls bloomed from the impact of multiple warheads and the return fire from their remaining anti-fighter lasers. As he watched, a brief explosion marked the demise of one of his own Azrael torpedo bombers. Haines noted its passing grimly.

The creature that had been Admiral Cox was angry. It had to admit, it had been impressed by the ambush that Admiral Haines had laid for it. His ruthlessness had to be applauded. The Ghenghis Khan and its group were lost, it knew that. It needed to stall for time until it could get its ships into position.

‘Sir, we have a communication from the Germanicus,’ said Ensign le Bray, her young face displaying concern as she studied her instruments. ‘It’s Admiral Cox. He’s requesting to speak to you.’

‘Request denied. Tell him to go to hell.’

‘Gladly, sir. Wait, something’s not right…’

Cox’s face appeared in Haines’s HUD.

‘George, I really think we ought to talk.’ The image was grainy, the sound quality scratchy at best. Haines heard le Bray’s puzzled protestations that she had denied the communication.

‘We have nothing to talk about,’ Haines replied. ‘The man I knew as Admiral Charles Cox is dead. You are nothing but an abomination wearing his face as a mask.’

‘I’d like to ask for your surrender,’ said Cox. ‘I promise we will be merciful towards prisoners.’

‘What, do I get a special brain parasite all of my own? Over my dead body.’

‘So be it.’

‘In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re winning.’

One of the Khan group’s destroyers exploded as the fire in its reactor chamber finally touched off an uncontrollable chain reaction.

‘For now, I agree. I always wanted to test myself against you George… they say you can’t be beaten. I intend to test that theory.’

The bombers from Haines’s carrier group were fleeing the battle. Fighters from the Nimitz and the Hector were diving onto the squadrons of Azraels as bat-winged Daemon class escort fighters rushed to their defence. A vast, swirling dog fight began to develop around the wrecks of the Khan group as beam fire from Haines’s ships took down the remaining Titan class destroyer, the Crassus. Weak defensive fire was coming from Khan group’s two frigates, but their lighter weapons were having little effect and they were now badly outgunned.

‘We’ll see about that.’ Haines turned to le Bray. ‘Lieutenant, shut down all passive receiving equipment, we’ll communicate with our ships using tight beam only. I don’t know how they managed to get that through, but I’m concerned that they could attempt an electronic warfare attack against our systems.’

The second group had arrived, right on schedule. As Haines watched, he saw space behind Cox’s fleet distort the background stars as the three other carrier groups emerged from their jump and immediately began to fire on Cox’s ships. A punishing storm of fire began to batter the outermost defensive ships of the Massena and Tamurlane groups who returned fire at once.

‘Time’s up Admiral Cox, see you in hell,’ snarled Haines before the transmission was broken off.

‘Sir, Group Two report that they are launching bombers against the Massena group. Flak cruisers have been taken down,’ le Bray reported. As she did so the searing blast of the Qin Shi Huangdi’s plasma cannon struck the Massena amidships, collapsing the carrier’s dorsal shields and striking the bridge section. The carrier began to drift out of control, trailing debris and atmosphere from the molten ruin of the bridge superstructure.

‘Damn good shooting!’ Haines pounded the arms of his chair as the Massena began to slide towards one of her escort destroyers. ‘Helm, move us forwards towards the Khan group, or what’s left of it, let’s see if we can’t extricate our bomber force from that dog fight.

They were coming. Admiral Cox could feel them as they swam through the void. Not long now.

The Nimitz fired. Haines saw the flash from its uprated plasma cannon as it vomited a torrent of supercharged particles towards his fleet, striking the forward shields of the Alexander. Even though the two vessels were beyond the range of their less deadly particle beam cannons, the effect of the plasma bolt was still devastating. Arcing energies coiled from the carrier as its shields collapsed catastrophically and boiling plasma tore into the Alexander’s sloping bow section and forward flight deck. The Augustus Caesar returned fire with its own cannon, striking the Nimitz in the bell; collapsing its shields and knocking out the deadly plasma weapon before it could recharge.

On the other side of the battle, a shot from the Lionheart skewered the Patton, a Titan class destroyer defending the Germanicus. A huge, swirling battle was now developing between the second group and the renegade fleet as fighter squadrons from both sides battled for supremacy.

Haines’s ships now had the Nimitz and Hector groups in range of their particle beam cannons. Haines gave the order and over a hundred guns fired in unison on the enemy vessels. They were met by a counter volley of fire from two dozen ships. Shields buckled and failed, hull plating collapsed and shattered.

The enemy was going after the Alexander and her group. The carrier was still struggling to get her forward shield back on line and control the fires that raged on her forward decks. The enemy was now concentrating their fire on the Scipio Africanus and the Thomas Cochrane, two Titan class destroyers that had moved ahead of the Alexander to block attacks on its forward section with their own shields. A withering barrage of fire was steadily whittling down their shields as the destroyers furiously returned fire against their attackers.

A squadron of enemy torpedo bombers had somehow broken through the blocking fighters almost intact and dived upon the two destroyers. They were met with rapid defensive fire from the ships’ laser batteries that reduced their numbers by half in seconds, but the remaining ships ploughed onwards, straight into the bridge and upper decks of the Scipio.

‘Sir! The Scipio is reporting kamikaze attacks by the enemy!’ cried Ensign le Bray. ‘They’ve lost the bridge, engineering are attempting to regain control of the ship, but her thrusters are firing erratically!’

Haines watched in horror. The Scipio was out of control. The random firing of her thrusters was rapidly slowing the velocity of the destroyer. Astern of her the Alexander was still accelerating, then realising the danger, the massive carrier began evasive manoeuvres. Too late.

The already damaged bow of the Alexander collided heavily with the engine block of the Scipio, smashing the destroyer’s power plant and buckling the bows of the carrier still further. As she was shunted heavily forward, the aft section of the Scipio began to come apart, spilling atmosphere, crew and vented plasma into space. There were small explosions within the hull of the destroyer, then her reactor core detonated.

The explosion tore the Scipio apart completely and blew the bow section clean off the Alexander. A honeycombed cross section of dozens of decks hung horribly exposed to the vacuum amidst a cloud of expanding wreckage and vented gases.

‘Sir, the Alexander is reporting massive casualties across all decks!’ said le Bray.

‘Admiral Walker, is he alive?’ said Commander Baldwin.

‘Still alive, sir. They secured the bridge armour as soon as they collided with the Scipio.’

Miraculously, the carrier still had power. She began to slow under reverse thrust.

‘Order them to the rear,’ said Haines. ‘Have the remaining ships in her group provide covering fire until she’s clear of the combat zone.’

‘Yes sir.’

They were close to the wrecks of the Khan group now. The laser batteries of the Lincoln and her escorts opened up to decimate the enemy fighters that swarmed there, the support fire finally allowing the friendly squadrons to break off and make a run for home.

Haines noticed that the Germanicus was facing directly away from them. By engaging the Qin Shi Huangdi, Cox had left his ship’s vulnerable aft quadrant exposed. It was not a mistake that Haines intended to let him repeat.

‘It’s time to take down Cox,’ growled Haines. ‘Helm, aim our centreline at the Germanicus. Gunnery control, prepare fire our main gun on my command.’

Hong looked puzzled as he peered at his instrument console.

‘I’m picking up some unusual sensor readings…’

‘Be more specific Mr Hong,’ said Baldwin.

‘I’m seeing massive tachyon emissions and unusual space-time fluctuations.’

‘Where, Mr Hong!?’

‘All around us, sir!’

Haines felt his stomach lurch. The Shapers were here in person. It was a trap.

‘Le Bray, put me through to the fleet! All ships, this is Haines. You are to break off the attack immediately and jump to the fallback coordinates.’

Other ships were appearing out of hyperspace. Haines could see them through the bridge windows now; huge, long and bristling with crystalline spines, they moved like hungry sharks against the stars. The Lincoln began to power its jump drives.

‘Sir, I’m detecting multiple contacts, at least thirty unknown vessels are closing on our position.’

‘They’re Shapers…’ Haines growled. ‘All ships: Fire at will on the Shaper vessels, all guns!’

‘Sir, jump drives are ready!’ cried Ensign Douglas at the helm.

‘Good, jump to the standby coordinates immediately,’ Haines replied. Nothing happened. ‘I said jump now god damn it!’ he shouted.

‘Sir I’m trying…’ the Ensign replied desperately. ‘Drives are unable to initiate a jump envelope.’

‘Admiral, I’m detected a hyperspace inhibitor field coming from the Shaper vessels, they’ve got us boxed in. Shaper vessels are firing!’ said Hong in panic.

‘I’m not going down without taking as many of these bastards with me as possible!’ snarled Haines. ‘Recommence our attack on the Germanicus! Gunnery control, prepare to fire our main gun at the carrier and direct all other weapons at the Shapers! All ships, you are ordered to fight your way out and jump back to Earth if you get the chance. I am taking Cox down!’

Reynaud fought and killed. He had never felt like this, never felt such power! He swooped among the lumbering ships of the Commonwealth loyalists and tore into them with his weapons. He saw, he felt everything! The delicate hulls of the fragile warships spilling open at a touch! Their vulnerable crews choking, convulsing and dying in the endless night. The heat of their weapons as they sought to engage him. The thrill of the hunt! The delicious feeling as he slew them, over and over!

He had been like those pitiful creatures once, snivelling and weak and afraid. The Shapers had granted him godhood, elevated him above the ignorant cattle, he feared nothing and no-one. He was a god, but he was not merciful.

The Lincoln powered forward through a barrage of beam fire as she swung to point her main gun back at the Germanicus. Haines saw the ships of his fleet die around him. The Qin Shi Huangdi exploded in a ball of nuclear fire that broke the carrier in two as Shaper vessels poured shot after shot into her, her escort ships ripped apart by exotic energy weapons that glittered and twisted in the darkness. The Augustus Caesar too was in trouble. Shaper ships had already disabled half of her escorts and were moving on the carrier, directing fire at her engines that buckled under the onslaught.

They were swarming about the Lincoln now, attempting to rip her engines from under her and board her. Haines wasn’t about to allow that. The main gun of his ship was aligned directly with the Germanicus.

‘Gunnery control…’

Haines paused. Something else was in the way. Another ship was emerging into the line of fire. Another Shaper vessel. It was huge. Haines estimated it to be at least twice the size of his carrier, and it was closing with them rapidly. He could see the sparkle of energy building up across the spines on its bow section.

‘Fire everything you’ve got at those bastards!’ he barked. ‘Now!’

Chapter 40

Fleet Meritarch Beklide’s personal flyer sped her across the skies of Keros. Below her, the ancient streets and carefully manicured parks sped by in a blur. Keros was the Arkari home world. From here, her species had spread out across the galaxy. It formed the administrative heart of the Sphere, capital of the thousands of inhabited Arkari worlds and had been so now for around fifty thousand years. Beklide knew that it had once formed the capital of an earlier, more savage stellar empire, one which had collapsed into anarchy and civil war, but such things were not widely discussed.

Keros was beautiful. Its surface was dotted with ancient cities, preserved against the ravages of time with painstaking care, their outskirts ringed with newer, delicate constructions that reached for the heavens and shone in the morning sunlight. Outside the cities, the landscape was a carefully tended version of paradise, a planet-wide park where the most exalted amongst the Arkari meritocracy made their homes, if they chose. Meanwhile, the brilliant blue sky above was bisected by the Ring, a vast orbital structure that girdled the planet and served as additional living space, space dock and – it was rumoured – last line of defence.

Beklide knew that the rumours were true. The Ring was home to thousands of concealed weapon systems and berths for a sizeable portion of the Arkari fleet if required. Many of her ships were docked there now, around two hundred in total. It wasn’t enough.

She was approaching the capital city, Aralia, now. The skies were becoming thicker with other vehicles like hers. They flew in vast, complicated, intersecting patterns at tremendous speed – collisions being prevented by the coordination of their onboard sub-AI computers. Ahead the Meritarch Council building loomed over the streets of administrative buildings that surrounded it. It formed a giant sphere squatting beneath the splayed legs of a soaring, kilometre tall spire than shone whitely in the morning light.

Her flyer deposited her on a landing platform half way up the side of the sphere and she made her way inside the building as the machine folded its wings and placed its systems into standby mode, awaiting her return. The inside of the Council building was as impressive as the exterior. Halls with soaring ceilings thronged with Council members and their assistants, as well as the holo-projected avatars of members unable to attend in person but linked in remotely via neural interfaces. The air was filled with the sounds of urgent chatter and last minute debate. A few saw her approach and nodded in her direction but there was no time to stop and exchange pleasantries. She was due to speak in a matter of minutes. The Council needed to be persuaded.

The great spherical chamber of the Meritarch Council was packed and noisy. Almost every seat was filled, either by a live occupant or the holographic representation of the delegate. Beklide strode confidently into the middle of the floor, calling up her notes on the holographic display of the slender lectern there and cleared her throat. There were calls for silence from the Council Speaker on his dais at the far end of the chamber. Then Beklide began:

‘I have come to this chamber today to address the inadequate war preparations made by this body. As commander of our navy, I implore the Esteemed Members here to allow me to review the strategic deployment of our forces in order to better counter the Shaper threat. Time is of the essence. We already have reports that the Commonwealth is collapsing into open civil war. It is only a matter of time before the Shapers come for us too.’

‘Meritarch Radalla of War Production,’ announced the Council Speaker as a slightly stockier than usual Arkari male got up out of his seat.

‘Ship production has been significantly increased during the past year,’ Radalla began. ‘In particular, we have brought on line over two thousand new destroyer class vessels in this period and two dozen dreadnoughts. Is the Esteemed Member dissatisfied with the levels of resources she has at her disposal?’

‘I would like to assure the Esteemed Member that I am happy with the progress that he and his department have made in increasing ship production,’ Beklide replied. ‘My issue is with the way I am being forced to deploy said vessels. Currently, the fleet is spread across the Sphere. Small numbers of vessels are assigned to each system. This, I believe, is deeply unwise. Our forces are spread too thinly to counter a concerted Shaper attack.’

‘The Esteemed Member Turinno,’ the Council Speaker intoned.

‘I was under the impression that we had decided upon such a strategy in order to minimise the effect of Shaper infiltration. If I recall correctly, this Chamber took the decision to spread our forces out to reduce the likelihood that entire fleets of our ships could become infected with Shaper agents or placed under the command of individuals who had been subverted,’ said Turinno, a slender, elderly Arkari woman whose holographic avatar wore a severe expression.

‘The Esteemed Member is correct,’ Beklide replied. ‘However we have conducted a mass screening programme of all naval personnel and have found no such infection. It is my estimation that the Shapers may have changed their tactics.’

‘Changed, how?’ said Turinno.

‘We don’t know. However it appears that they have forgone any attempt to infiltrate our organisations as they did in the Commonwealth and in the K’Soth Empire. I have considered the possibility that they may use whatever resources they can gain from their conquest of these two civilisations in order to launch a full scale assault on our systems. I have drawn up a list of key systems that I would recommend that we defend, rather than attempting to defend every single one of our worlds.’

‘You would leave civilians undefended?’ shouted a voice from the benches.

‘Any competent commander is not going to attack every civilian system in the Sphere. They’ll begin by attacking key centres of government, communication or supply in order to paralyse our ability to fight back. These are the systems that we should defend first and foremost. To deploy our forces otherwise is madness unless we can put a thousand ships into every system. Furthermore, I recommend that we commit a portion of fleet to defeating the rebel faction in the Commonwealth. Earth needs our help. From what we can tell, Fleet Admiral Haines’s attempt to defeat them in the Achernar system has not been successful and Shaper vessels are already at large in Commonwealth space.’

‘Do we know the strength of the enemy forces?’ said Turinno.

‘No, I’m afraid that we do not. The Shaper vessels are proving very difficult to track. Indeed it appears that, as yet, the Commonwealth vessels are unable to detect them at all until they re-enter normal space, by which time it is usually too late.’

‘Then we should not commit our forces without proper information.’

Beklide was losing patience. ‘I implore this Council to let me aid the humans. Earth is poorly defended if the Shapers decide to move against her. I need fifty ships at the most to accomplish the mission. We have to act! Do our long-standing alliances count for nothing? They need our help!’

Deep inside the Black Rock facility, the Shaper creature stirred. Its many weeks of preparations were now completed. It had subverted every single firewall in the Arkari hypercom network, replacing them with slaved copies of its own code and now it heard its master’s command. It was time to strike. The carefully crafted virus it had lovingly programmed leapt from its grasp into the datasphere and began to multiply.

‘This Council moves to vote on the question of deploying forces to assist our human allies. Voting will commence in two cycles and…’ The Council Speaker looked up at the sudden commotion in the benches that ringed the chamber. Beklide saw it too. The holographic projections of members attending remotely were writhing in agony, clutching at their skulls. She saw it spread in a great wave around the chamber, a ripple of pain that travelled around the benches. The other members stood and stared helplessly at the writhing images of their fellow Meritarchs, some of whom now appeared unconscious as the images began to distort and fragment. Beklide saw Turinno clawing at her skull, her mouth wide open in an endless scream as she sank to her knees.

It was an attack of some kind. It had to be. Beklide tried to contact her ship. The Sword of Reckoning was still docked at the ring above.

‘Reckoning, this is Beklide. I don’t know how, but I think we’re being attacked. The Council members linked in remotely via their neural interfaces, they’re being assaulted somehow.’

‘Meritarch, this is the Sword of Reckoning,’ the voice of the ship’s AI was badly degraded and barely audible. ‘My hypercom interfaces are being bombarded with virus programs … also … massive energy spike … centre of the galaxy…’

She got nothing but static from her hypercom ear-bead. Now she was sure. Something had gotten into the datasphere. It had to be the Shapers. She gripped the podium and looked across the chamber, now in chaos and dotted with the corrupted, flickering images of Council members in various states of collapse. Some were writhing in torment; others lay still in oddly contorted positions. Other images showed only cubes of static. Beklide did a double take at one. For a split second she had glimpsed the transient image of a horribly leering face amid the electronic snow.

‘Listen to me!’ she cried over the tumult. ‘We are under attack! I will try to get back to the fleet and coordinate the defence from orbit. Communications are out, but try and activate whatever emergency measures we have!’

She turned and ran from the chamber, leaving chaos in her wake. Breathless, she ran through the puzzled crowds in the corridors outside – all of whom were wondering why their communicators had suddenly stopped working - until she arrived back at the landing pad and scrambled into her transport.

‘Get me back to the Reckoning,’ she commanded the craft as it rose gracefully into the air. ‘See if you can contact the ship, or any ship for that matter, and relay these orders. They are to be disseminated across the entire Sphere: Enemy attack imminent. Hypercom systems have been compromised. Many Council members feared dead or incapacitated. All ships are to leave port and assume emergency defensive posture. Planetary defences are to be made armed and ready.’

As the ship powered into the morning sky Beklide looked up at the Ring. Beyond it lay Keros’s moon. Between the two, a brilliant point of light could be seen growing in the sky.

The Shaper creature felt glee. The Arkari had been paralysed with a stroke! Its hard work had certainly paid off. The virus rampaged throughout their primitive hyperspace communications network, cutting off all interstellar traffic and boiling the minds of anyone foolish enough to have a neural connection active. It watched those pompous fools in the Arkari Council collapse and die. It felt no more remorse than if it had swatted some troublesome insects. After all, that’s what they were in comparison to the greatness of His intelligence. Now they would feel His wrath.

For millions of years, the Shapers had sought to emulate the lost technologies of their creators, the Progenitors. They had sifted the ruins of their dead cities for relics that would enable them to reconstruct the wonders of that bygone age. Towards the end of their pan-galactic reign, the Progenitors had perfected wormhole generators. These planet-sized machines had enabled them to escape the galaxy and start anew. It was the ultimate form of interstellar transport, allowing the users to cross intergalactic distances at a stroke and, it was rumoured, move through time as well as space. Potentially, it was the also the ultimate weapon.

The Shapers had sought it greedily, gleaning what they could from fragmentary records which they expanded upon and used their own prodigious intellects to try and construct their own device. Theirs was different from that built by the Progenitors. As yet, they had difficulties moving objects through time. The snatching of the Commonwealth fleet from the Hadar system and sending back to its time of origin had been a tentative start, by using one of their ships as an anchor point, but they had not successfully sent anything any further backwards in time. The information paradoxes became too great.

Their device could only reliably move objects through space, and unlike the Progenitor device, rather than harness the power of stars, it fed from the vast energy output from the ultimate engine of destruction at the heart of the galaxy, the black hole named by the Arkari as The Maelstrom. Gigantic arrays floated above the event horizon, defying the pull of that enormous maw, drinking in the raw energy of cosmic annihilation.

Such energy reserves gave the Shapers enormous power. Where the Progenitor wormhole portal had generated and then maintained a single wormhole at once, theirs would produce many - hundreds, perhaps thousands of wormholes at once. But the energy required was enormous. They had tested it by generating single wormholes for several years now, scattering scouts and small assault forces around the galaxy, but what they had planned now would require a vast expenditure of energy. Such a large number of wormholes could not be kept open indefinitely. The Shapers would need to achieve their objectives quickly before the device was drained of power and in need of recharging. Even with the power of a black hole at their disposal, it would take some time to do so.

To the Shapers, the Arkari were the greatest threat in the Western Spiral Arm. Their technology was secondary only to their own. Their war fleets were enormous and well equipped. The vassal races of the Shapers could not hope to stand against such technological might. The Shapers themselves must commit a significant proportion of their forces and use the element of surprise to bring the Arkari to heel. The other races would be enslaved, but the Arkari: no, the Arkari must be annihilated.

A vast armada now gathered in front of a gigantic ring shaped structure encased in continent sized chunks of machinery that floated above the equator of the Maelstrom. Hundreds of kilometres in diameter, its black, crystalline structure glinted in the ghostly light of the Maelstrom’s accretion disk. Slowly, it began to turn.

In the Lagrange point between Keros and its moon, the point of brilliant light and energy was growing. As her transport rose above the atmosphere of the planet at maximum acceleration, Beklide saw it more clearly now, the point was expanding into a disc, limned with blue-white shimmering light. Through it shone the corpse-light of dying suns.

Her ship had finally managed to raise the Sword of Reckoning. Old fashioned analogue radio communication still worked.

‘Meritarch, this is the Sword of Reckoning,’ she was being addressed by the ship’s AI, its carefully modulated female tones seeming unruffled by events. ‘We are detecting what appears to be a wormhole terminus in the Lagrange point between Keros and the Moon. All other means of communication are down and my hypercom interfaces are being bombarded with an unknown virus infection. As a precaution I have undocked from the Ring.’

‘Order all other ships to do the same,’ Beklide replied. ‘Form up in a defensive screen between the Lagrange point and the Ring. Contact the Ring and order that all defences be brought online.’

‘At once,’ the ship replied. ‘Wait. The Ring’s systems are being disrupted. I can elicit no response from her AIs. It appears that they are still present within the Ring, but the hypercom backbone of the structure’s network has been hijacked by the virus and is preventing communication between the cores or with the outside world. The hypercom network appears to be down system wide. It is prudent to assume that this may be the case across the Sphere.’

We’re cut off, and our main static defences are down, thought Beklide as her transport swooped towards the two hundred kilometre long bulk of the dreadnought Sword of Reckoning. This had to be the Shapers. Who else could bring the Arkari down with a single stroke?

A docking port appeared in the skin of the dreadnought, swallowing Beklide’s transport as the enormous vessel powered away from the Ring to face the wormhole.

The bridge of an Arkari vessel was rather different to those found aboard human ships. The advanced information technology of the Arkari lessened the need for a central command and control centre with banks of dedicated consoles. Nevertheless, it still made things much easier to have a ship’s command staff in one place during combat: enemy counter measures couldn’t disrupt face to face communication and although Arkari vessels were run by AIs who were allowed to take the initiative to a degree, all commands still had to come from Arkari officers and weapons were still under the final authority of Arkari crew with aiming and firing performed by the ship under orders. The bridge of the Sword of the Reckoning lay near the bows of the massive, manta ray shaped vessel. It was a huge curving space where information could be clearly projected alongside views outside the ship from whatever angles her crew requested.

It was busy with Arkari crew as Beklide arrived from the transport tube, somewhat out of breath and struggling to compose herself. The Sword of Reckoning had halted ten thousand kilometres away from the shining wormhole exit as vessels of all classes began to form up around the massive dreadnought.

Beklide strode up to her second in command, Ship Master Urkild, who was eyeing the glowing phenomenon with deep suspicion.

‘Report,’ she commanded smartly.

‘All weapon systems are online and functioning normally. The primary spatial distortion cannon is charged and ready to fire. We are attempting to verify the wormhole’s point of origin.’

‘I think it’s safe to assume that it’s coming from the galactic core, Ship Master. Look.’ She gestured towards a magnified image of the wormhole’s mouth that hung in the space before them. Through it could now be seen the fiery glow of a black hole’s accretion disk. Shapes were moving against that flaming backdrop. They were coming closer.

‘Scans indicate that approximately a hundred Shaper vessels of varying sizes are massing on the far side of the wormhole,’ said the ship.

‘Only a hundred?’ said Beklide. ‘That can’t be right.’

‘I think we can take them,’ said Urkild. ‘Here they come.’

The first of the enemy vessels broke through the wormhole; tightly packed like a school of predatory fish they began spreading out into an arrowhead formation. Shaper vessels, sleek and deadly were attended by squadrons of simpler, less advanced craft of differing designs. One thing was clear: the other ships were not of Shaper origin. They were either their servants or their slaves, come to fight and die for their masters.

Under Beklide’s command, the Arkari fleet responded swiftly. The two hundred capital ships defending Keros split into multiple smaller groups that peeled away from the core force of heavy destroyers clustered around the Sword of Reckoning. They began to enclose the Shaper force like an enormous claw with the Sword of Reckoning powering up the centre. Swarms of glittering fighters surrounded the massive ships. When they had closed to within a thousand kilometres of the enemy, they opened up with all guns.

Arkari ships were formidable craft. Each one of the massive destroyers was capable of taking on and destroying many times their own number of ships from the less advanced races. They were sleek, agile and heavily armed. The dreadnought Sword of Reckoning was many times larger still and carried an arsenal of weaponry larger than most entire fleets. It tore into the enemy with a fusillade of near unstoppable ferocity. Even the Shapers with their advanced technology could not help but fall back before such an onslaught as over a thousand weapon systems embedded within its seamless, silvered surface opened fire. As it did so, dozens of smaller, cruiser class vessels and fighters began to pour from its cavernous hangar as its accompanying squadrons of destroyers dove into the enemy formation.

The enemy fleet was heavily outnumbered and began to scatter. The Shaper vessels twisted and turned away from the wrath of the Arkari guns like hunted animals whilst their lumbering accomplices wallowed desperately. The Sword of Reckoning unleashed its main gun at one of the larger enslaved craft, tearing the fabric of space apart and shattering the thing as though it were made of glass, turning it instantly into an expanding shell of debris. The sheer weight of fire being thrown against the Shaper fleet was rapidly battering down their defences as the fight devolved into a series of one-on-one dogfights between the massive warships. Despite the odds however, the fire coming back at the Arkari vessels from the Shapers was severe, gouging long scars and craters from the gleaming hulls of the graceful ships.

‘Is this all they’ve got!?’ cried Urkild, a triumphant smirk on his face. ‘They could at least give us some sport!’ He gestured at a display that showed another alien warship struggling to evade its pursuers and being repeatedly pounded by spatial distortion fire that collapsed its bulbous stern.

Beklide heard the voice at the back of her mind. Just a whisper. It had a mocking laugh.

‘No,’ it said. ‘This is just the beginning. Now we have you where we want you.’

‘Meritarch!’ said the ship. ‘Other vessels are arriving!’

Urkild’s face turned to a mask of horror and Beklide saw now what he and the ship had spotted. The sky around the Arkari fleet had been suddenly filled with countless additional wormhole exits and Shaper ships were pouring through them in swarms.

‘Signal the Council and the fleet! ’ Beklide cried to the ship. ‘Enemy invasion of home system confirmed. We are massively outnumbered and are attempting to make a stand. Activate all ground defences. Defence of the home-world is to be made using all means necessary. We are on our own.’

Chapter 41

Katherine gazed up at the looming bulk of the K’Soth lord and felt horrible memories flooding back. Maranos. Trapped in the depths of the planet. Inquisitor Razortail and his esoteric collection of blades. The creature before her was terror incarnate, a mass of scaled muscle, fangs and claws. It spoke: a translator pendant turning its harsh language into monotone English.

‘Please, my lady, I mean you no harm,’ it said and bowed slightly. ‘I am the Lord Steelscale. We are friends now.’

‘We are?’

‘I hope. I have had enough of pointless war to last several lifetimes, and like you, I know that we must fight the Shapers together. Will you accept my offer of friendship?’

Lord Steelscale bowed low before her. She wondered if he had deliberately attempted to copy the human gesture.

Katherine knew that he must be sincere. They were, after all, on board an Arkari warship, on the vessel’s expansive bridge. Crew and technicians worked busily and calmly around them amidst holographic projections of data from the ship’s systems. Neither Steelscale, nor the coterie of concubines that followed in his wake, would be even allowed on board if they posed a threat. She fought the primal urge to flee and graciously accepted his offer.

Rekkid appeared more relaxed about the presence of the K’Soth lord.

‘Steelscale!’ he said brightly. ‘Well, well… always knew that you were one of the Empire’s good guys. Long time…’

‘You two know each other?’ said Katherine incredulously.

‘After a fashion, yes,’ Rekkid replied. ‘The Lord Steelscale has an interest in the archaeological record of his people and is foremost in the field of the early K’Soth civilisations. He writes under an assumed human name of course, don’t you?’

‘My family has - or rather had - modest holdings and I have no desire to be a great general or tyrant. We Steelscales carried little favour at court and my father spent most of his time trying to keep away from the attentions of the Imperial house rather than attract it. He felt that the potential consequences of angering a fickle idiot and his lackeys outweighed the potential benefits of money and power. I had much free time as a result and indulged myself with my studies. I had some contacts outside the Empire and had my work published under a pseudonym.’

‘Edward D. Cope,’ said Rekkid. ‘In Earth’s history he was the discoverer of Tyrannosaurus, the terrible lizard.’

‘Which would have been a dead giveaway if we were palaeontologists,’ Katherine replied.

‘Steelscale and I have met a couple of times before, at symposiums in Esacir space.’ Rekkid commented. ‘It was quite a while ago though; he wasn’t always able to make it.’

‘So what brings you here, Lord Steelscale?’ said Katherine.

‘My family ended up on the side opposing the Emperor in the civil war,’ Steelscale replied. ‘We are only a minor house and had no chance against the loyalists alone. Alas, we were picked off by house Bloodtongue before our allied houses could assist us. We could not hope to stand against the might of the Imperial house. They tried to assassinate my father in the end. A sniper’s bullet. We were on the balcony of our home, he and I. I heard the shot and saw him fall from a head wound… then I saw him get straight back up again, and then I saw what was inside his skull. I know now that it was a creature of the Shapers.’

‘How did you…?’

‘It took a dozen guards to help me restrain him,’ said Steelscale. ‘Three of them died at his hands. But we managed to sedate him and place him in stasis. I didn’t know what he had become, but we heard rumours that the Arkari and the Commonwealth were getting people out of the Empire if they were willing to co-operate. I established contact with the underground and told them about my father. A human got us out… Captain Isaacs. A pilot of considerable skill.’

‘Isaacs?’ said Rekkid. ‘My, he gets around.’

‘You know him? I’ve never seen anyone fly like that,’ said Steelscale. ‘We went up against a War Temple at one point… I don’t know how we survived. But after we came here we learnt the truth about what had happened to my father, about the Shapers manipulating our societies, rotting our civilisations from within. I gather that you are no strangers to their machinations.’

‘Correct,’ said Katherine.

‘And I understand that you recently uncovered an AI from the race that created the Shapers?’

‘Yes, on the surface of the Dyson Sphere outside, though she’s been in some sort of deep communion with the Glory’s own AI for almost a week now,’ Katherine replied. ‘Mentith said that she was going to speak today.’

Since they had recovered Eonara from the surface of Bivian, a painstaking process of examining the Progenitor AI core and verifying its authenticity had taken place. The Shining Glory had first re-activated Eonara within an isolated network and then, having satisfied itself that she posed no threat to its systems, had gradually allowed the ancient AI ever greater levels of access. After a few days of cautious experimentation, the two artificial beings had seemed to enter some sort of thrall state and neither Eonara, nor the ship’s AI had been terribly communicative since. The ship had responded to routine housekeeping requests whilst it remained parked between the Black Rock and the surface of Bivian, but not a word had been heard from Eonara since she had been unplugged from the facility and the ship’s cat avatar had not been seen about the vessel either. This had started to worry the crew of the Shining Glory, especially when they had noticed the vast streams of data that were now passing between the Progenitor AI core and that of the ship. Katherine and Rekkid had, in the meantime, busied themselves with research.

‘I have done a lot of catching up since we came to the Black Rock,’ said Steelscale. ‘It seems that there are whole swathes of galactic history about which I had no knowledge.’

‘Yeah, we both had that experience too,’ Katherine replied. ‘We’re still piecing together the details from the records left to us.’

‘In any case, I hope that this ancient AI can tell us something about our mutual enemy,’ said Steelscale.

A figure strode onto the bridge from the transit tube. It was Mentith.

‘Indeed she can,’ said the War Marshal, having overheard the conversation. ‘I gathered you here because the ship wishes to speak to us now. Ship, if you would, please.’

A figure materialised in the middle of the Glory’s bridge. To those watching it seemed as if liquid metal were being poured into the air in the centre of the room where it formed into the figure of Eonara. It also became clear that the Eonara figure was holding the ship’s long haired, silver cat avatar in her arms. She released the cat onto the floor. Eonara regarded the various persons on the bridge with her large, intelligent eyes that glowed softly with inner light.

‘The ship and I have exchanged and mingled the contents of our minds,’ she said. Her voice had acquired a steely edge. ‘It now knows all that I know and I know all that it knows. We are linked. Our consciousnesses have been joined.’

‘You were away from us for a long time,’ said Mentith. ‘We thought at first there had perhaps been some mistake when we installed your core here. I am glad to see that that is not the case.’

‘I assure you that I am functioning correctly, as too is the Shining Glory, are you not?’ She looked at the cat.

‘There was a great deal of data to assimilate and analyse, even by my standards’ the cat said. ‘Eonara has provided me with as comprehensive record of the Progenitor Empire as we can reasonably expect to find anywhere and she has assisted me in properly cataloguing and interpreting the data stored in the wafers found on Bivian. I have spent these recent days reliving the Progenitors’ history, from its earliest moments to its cataclysmic end in all its complexity. The value of this knowledge is incalculable and, importantly, Eonara has taught me how to fight the Shapers.’

‘How?’ said Mentith.

‘I spoke to you on the surface of how the Shapers were created,’ said Eonara. ‘Now I will tell you how they operate as a species. When you consider the Shapers you should not regard them as other civilizations. They are not organic; they are an artificially created race of self replicating machines. Neither should they be regarded as a civilization composed of separate, independent individuals. They are a hive mind. The thought processes and decisions of the Shaper race are shared between many individuals in order to devote greater levels of processing power to a problem. This grants them great intelligence, but it also a weakness that can be exploited.’

Images began to appear in the air behind Eonara, three dimensional tree-like structures growing outwards in all directions from a central core.

‘The Shaper hive mind follows a hierarchy. They are few in number, compared to many other races, so they must maximise their potential and ensure that data flows throughout their shared consciousness in the most efficient manner. Overall command decisions are taken at the core. This is the largest grouping of Shaper minds which we called the Singularity, a self perpetuating machine intelligence designed for unrivalled computing power and which, due to its own self governed evolution, quickly surpassed its designers’ wildest expectations. Decisions from the Singularity are passed down to local processing nodes, composed of smaller groups of minds and thus to individual ships, agents and enslaved creatures under the Shapers’ control. When viewed as a whole this command structure resembles a galaxy spanning structure not dissimilar to that of the nervous system of a large animal. Destroying the local nodes is the key to victory. With these taken out, the individual Shapers will be cut off and will be forced to rely on ad hoc networks of command and control and shared processing in order to remain coordinated and part of the whole. In addition, the shared processing of the Shapers’ hive mind is greatly impeded by distance, resulting in significant lag over galactic distances even via hypercom communication. Typically, command decisions at local level are delegated downwards granting individual fleets autonomy at tactical level. Destroy nodes, and the Shapers in the local volume will become uncoordinated. It may also be possible to jam their transmissions or even intercept and decipher them, though this was something we never managed as a species, I have provided the ship with my own research data on their methods of subspace signalling.’

‘If you created them, why can’t you decipher their transmissions?’ said Rekkid.

‘The Shapers were able to evolve rapidly, creating better, faster copies of themselves. Within a few years they bore little resemblance to their original design. They are now as alien to myself as any other naturally occurring, sentient race. What we do know is that their transmissions are able to interface directly with the cerebral cortexes of some sentient races, allowing messages to be broadcast directly into the minds of the recipients who will hear ‘voices in their heads’ so to speak or see images. We believed this to be an unintended side-effect, though doubtless the Shapers aim to control minds directly via this method at some point, rather than rely upon parasitic agents.’

‘I can vouch for their ability to project messages’ said Katherine. ‘The one on Hadar spoke to me and the other humans there, but left Rekkid alone.’

‘Yes, the Arkari seem less susceptible. Though they are not immune.’

‘I don’t get it,’ said Katherine. ‘If the Shapers are able to evolve rapidly and replicate themselves quickly, why are they so few in number? Why didn’t they take over the galaxy eons ago?’

‘I personally believe it is a matter of control. Following the destruction of the Progenitor Empire, the Shapers attempted to take over the entire galaxy. It appears that when they reached such numbers, concentrations of Shapers remote from the Singularity began to form separate Singularities of their own, each bent on dominating the galaxy and imposing their will. The terrible war that followed wiped out the remaining star faring cultures and plunged the galaxy into a dark age that lasted for almost four billion years until a second generation of sentient races arose. The Shapers themselves had been reduced to a handful of scattered survivors across the galaxy. Slowly, they made their way back to their home-world and licked their wounds. It is my theory that they now use their technological superiority to exert direct control over large numbers of more primitive beings and maintain stricter controls over themselves by maintaining a relatively small Shaper population. It also appears that their evolution amongst the general Shaper population has stagnated, possibly intentionally, as evolution among some groups of individuals would have a destabilising effect upon their hierarchy. Certainly the creatures that you have encountered in recent years are not too far removed from those fought by the Nahabe a few tens of thousands of years ago. We can only postulate, but based on prior experience, I would have expected a number of potential Singularities to have emerged during the Shapers’ long slow resurgence only for them to contest dominance over the general population, following which the losing parties would have been assimilated by the victor. The surviving one will be able to exert almost unimaginable levels of control over its subjects, even down to individual level. It is a machine god in all but name.’

‘So how do we kill it?’ said Katherine. ‘Something like that… surely its defences would be unimaginable. It would be a suicide mission’

‘It… it may be possible to create a virus to disrupt the Shaper’s hive mind and prevent them from communicating with one another.’ Eonara seemed hesitant, distracted even. ‘Were that to be successful… the Singularity would fall apart and in all probability destroy itself. The Glory and I have also been working on this together these past few days… our progress is slow, so far but… wait.’ Eonara paused then said: ‘Something’s wrong.’

The Progenitor AI’s image wore an expression of worry. There was a pregnant pause. Mentith seemed on the verge of speaking when the ship’s cat avatar began to explain:

‘War Marshal I have lost contact with our hypercom datasphere,’ said the ship. ‘I am unable to maintain a consistent connection.’ It paused for a second then continued. ‘I have now closed all hypercom traffic to the datasphere. War Marshal, my hypercom interfaces are being bombarded with a large number of viruses originating from our own hypercom routing nodes. I am attempting to establish a peer-to-peer network with other ships but we are a long way from other vessels. It may take some time to establish a secure connection.’

A schematic image of the ship’s comm. systems and the nearest segments of the Arkari hypercom network appeared in the air at the far end of the bridge. A number of areas were highlighted with winking icons

‘Bring us to combat readiness,’ said Mentith, quickly. ‘Alert Black Rock and activate all defensive systems about the facility.’

‘Done,’ the ship replied. It accompanied the comm. schematic with one of the local volume of space and the myriad of defensive platforms in place around the Black Rock facility

‘What the hell’s going on?’ said Rekkid.

‘We’re under attack, Professor Cor,’ Mentith replied. ‘Someone is using our own communication system against us.’

‘The Shapers?’ Rekkid replied. His question was left hanging, unanswered.

‘I am analysing samples of several viruses that the ship has isolated,’ said Eonara. ‘They bear a striking resemblance to Shaper AI shards. These coding segments here,’ she displayed them in the air in front her, three dimensional patterns of symbols that seemed to squirm as if alive.

‘We seen symbols like that before, they’re Shaper alright,’ said Katherine. ‘Rekkid, do you remember when we examined the skin of the ship on Rhyolite?’

‘I concur, the two sets of intertwined symbols are formed from the same character sets,’ Rekkid replied. ‘I can read them but I can’t understand what they say. I’m sorry, I’m no computer programmer.’

‘Tracing their point of origin,’ said the ship. ‘Infected data packets in all cases are originating from our own hypercom node A.Is. They are not simply relaying data from elsewhere, they are the source! War Marshal, it is my estimation that the hypercom datasphere has been subverted by the Shapers. I am as yet unable to raise any other vessel or Arkari world. I have established contact with the Black Rock via analogue radio signals. They are experiencing similar problems.’

‘Typical,’ growled Steelscale. ‘This is how the Shapers fight. Worthless cowards!’

‘If all hyperspace comms are down then we have to get back to Arkari space,’ said Mentith. ‘I have to contact the fleet. Glory, plot a course for the Ashenti system.’

‘War Marshal, I am detecting a point of neutrino emissions in the local space inside the remains of Bivian,’ said the ship. ‘I have also established a temporary connection to the cruiser Pale Fire in the Varanno system. The ship has relayed the following message. Playing now.’

The sound was poor quality due to the appalling data transfer rates but Mentith recognised the distorted voice of Captain Hekat: ‘We are under attack. Have lost contact with all other vessels. Badly outnumbered. Hypercom network down everywhere. Shapers.’

‘The source of the broadcast terminated in mid transmission,’ the ship commented.

There were gasps from the other Arkari on the bridge who turned to look at Mentith in alarm.

‘Don’t get distracted!’ Mentith barked. ‘Yes, we are now at war! Now let’s do our jobs. We need to establish where these incursions are taking place and take appropriate action. Ship, can you get me information from any other vessels?’

‘I am attempting to do so,’ the ship replied. ‘Formulating counter viral programs to increase data flow capacity and lock out hostile programs.’

Outside the ship, the space around Black Rock was pierced by a brilliant point of light that expanded into a shining hoop of energy through which unfamiliar stars could be glimpsed.

Katherine peered at the sight in rapt fascination and horror as the scene outside the Shining Glory was projected into the air in an arc around the bridge. The Arkari officers and crew worked to a backdrop of looming Dyson Sphere landscapes and the bright, distant stars beyond overlaid with complex unreadable icons and labels in Arkari script. The portal dominated, a circle of pale fire.

Rekkid was pointing. She saw movement within the portal even as the view shifted as the Shining Glory began to manoeuvre swiftly and bring its weapons to bear. Ships began to emerge to be met with a barrage of fire from the sentry weapons in the space around the Black Rock. There was no mistaking the sleek, ice bright, crystalline vessels that swam among the coruscating fire. She could hear them whispering to her mind.

‘The Shapers are here,’ she heard herself say, her mouth dry with fear.

Chapter 42

The mahogany table of the Churchill’s wardroom was a pool of inky darkness that reflected the light of Earth’s swirling cloud tops from beyond the tall bank of windows. Chen sat at one end of the table, her mouth pressed into a firm narrow line as she listened once again to the transmission that they had picked up from Haines a week earlier. She had to listen to it again. She needed to feel the anger that swelled within her, needed to feed off it to drive her fighting instincts. The message was scratchy and distorted, his voice strained and desperate yet still defiant. They were his last words to her.

‘This is Admiral George Haines of the Abraham Lincoln to Admiral Chen. We have been surrounded by Shaper vessels and are outnumbered. They have achieved complete tactical surprise. We cannot fight our way out and we can’t jump – the bastards are using inhibitor fields. Most of the fleet has been wiped out and we are powerless to stop them taking the system. The Lincoln has lost power to her engines and we are trapped within the gravity well of Orinoco. Venting atmosphere from a dozen decks. Ship’s breaking up. They’re still firing on us, but at least the bastards didn’t get to board us…’ There were a few seconds of inaudible speech. ‘…Chen, it’s up to you now. You must defend Earth at all costs, use all necessary means. I have every confidence in you. I did my best, but I guess you can’t win them all, kid. Fleet Admiral George Haines, signing off.’

All necessary means. She didn’t have much. Her force was smaller than the one Haines had taken to Achernar. The Churchill, plus four carrier battle groups led by the Jupiter class carriers Leonides, Horatio Nelson, Ulysses S.Grant and Hugh Dowding. Each carrier group had seen considerable action in the war against the K’Soth and their crews were battle hardened veterans. She had fought with the Leonides during the opening battles of that last war, and now Captain Diaz’s crew would stand with her in the first battles of this one. Part of her wondered if it might also be the last. She thought of Haines. Was he dead or alive? Nothing had been heard from the Achernar system since that last urgent message and not a single ship had returned. She feared the worst. If the Shapers could defeat Haines…

Admiral Cox’s renegade force had not tarried in the Achernar system. Although deep range hyperspace scanning had spotted a great many unknown vessels still lingering there, a large number of Commonwealth drive signatures were being tracked on a direct course for the Solar System. It was only a matter of hours now. Chen had ordered the broadcast of a system-wide, repeating message across the shipping channels that all civilian ships should vacate the system and stay clear of the potential combat zone. Meanwhile, the government had begun emergency broadcasts to the billions of citizens trapped in the capital system as to how they should prepare for the impeding attack. Panic and rioting had broken out across the Solar System as people scrambled for the last liners leaving for other stars. The local defence forces and police were already out in strength in a number of cities on Earth, Mars and Jupiter’s moons. There had been some looting, and some deaths.

Chen had tried to contact her parents, but the comm. channels, planetary internet and hypercom systems were jammed with the frantic traffic of twenty billion frightened people and she couldn’t get through. She fired off a confused, emotional email urging them to flee San Francisco and hoped for the best, knowing that whatever she said, her parents would make up their own minds regardless.

Re-enforcements – ten carrier battle groups and half a million ground troops – were still a week away as the Commonwealth’s loyal forces sprinted back from the wreck of the K’Soth Empire that they had conquered and were now hastily abandoning. Other ships and troops would take much longer to reach Earth. Too long. Chen must work with what she had.

She did have one card up her sleeve though. The interim government had contacted her after it became clear that the fleet sent to Achernar had been lost. Haines had left recommendations to the government to the effect that she should be placed in command of the defence of the Solar System and given a field commission to full Admiral. The frightened, inexperienced politicians had acquiesced.

It was an awesome responsibility. The fate of human civilisation now rested in her hands. She required all necessary means to fight the Shapers, and this would be granted to her. The four matt black, insignia-less warships that she had inspected earlier were proof of that. They were the Commonwealth’s Nemesis class strategic missile destroyers.

Chen had heard rumours before, but the four ships had turned out to be real enough. They were a more-than-secret, black budget project. Design and construction at great expense had begun in the years after the first K’Soth war. They were to be the ultimate weapon against humanity’s enemies, designed to penetrate the strongest defences that the K’Soth could throw against them and deliver a killing blow to the Empire’s core systems in the event that Earth should once again be at their mercy. Each of the kilometre long vessels was sheathed in advanced stealth hull plating and thick armour rather than conventional - and obvious – energy shields and possessed the foremost in low signature jump drive systems. They had limited conventional armament, for conventional fleet actions were not their forte, instead each was designed to administer a devastating blow to planetary populations or space borne assets via stand-off attack. The ships were armed with jump-capable antimatter tipped missiles.

They were, in every sense, illegal. There was little defence against such a weapon, a weapon capable of sterilising the surface of entire worlds in a cataclysm of nuclear fire from several light years away. Even if the missiles were knocked out of hyperspace by inhibitor fields, they still possessed stealthy profiles and high powered fusion engines as well as combat software designed to help them penetrate enemy defences. They were near unstoppable doomsday weapons.

The press had gotten wind of the possibility of their existence twenty years ago and the programme had eventually been quietly curtailed in the name of interstellar harmony and – more importantly – budgetary constraints. The vessels were immensely expensive to construct, their primary armament especially. However the four ships already constructed at hidden shipyards were rumoured to patrol beyond the space lanes and occasional, unverified sightings had been made over the years. It had been generally supposed before the war that the Commonwealth was happy for the rumours to circulate in order to keep the K’Soth guessing.

To Chen’s eyes, the four, terrible ships reminded her of the old nuclear submarines from the history books, both in their general appearance and in their ability to achieve total surprise and wreak utter devastation. She had met the crews. They were a breed apart. Long periods in deep space and a life of utter secrecy had made them very reliant upon one another and reluctant to talk to outsiders, but their professionalism and devotion to duty were second to none. If Chen’s plan worked, the Shapers were in for an unpleasant shock. The Nemesis, the Shiva, the Azrael and Guan Yu now waited in the darkness above the ecliptic, running silent and drifting just like four rogue asteroids, their thick, black-body hulls almost invisible. They awaited Chen’s command.

The comm. chimed suddenly. It was Haldane.

‘Admiral I thought you should know: enemy vessels have entered the system.’

‘Where are they headed, Commander?’ she replied.

‘The Jovian moons. We’re think they’re going to take Io.’

‘I’m on my way up. Chen out.’

Chen sat in her command chair, her HUD monocle projecting a tactical map of the system into her field of view. From their projected course, there was little doubt that Cox’s assault force was headed for Io. Chen’s heart sank. The volume around Jupiter and its moons was still busy with civilian traffic attempting to flee the system. Cox’s fleet would be on top of them in moments.

‘We have to do something,’ said Haldane, a pleading look in his eye as he turned to Chen. ‘Those civilians won’t stand a chance against carrier battle groups.’

‘Agreed. Ensign Andrews, relay a message to Galileo Station. Tell them to order all ships to jump away immediately, to activate all defences in the Jovian system and prepare for a full scale assault.’

Haldane turned to Chen.

‘You’re not going to do anything? We’re just going to sit here?’

‘Yes,’ Chen replied abruptly.

‘Those civilians are about to be cut to pieces!’

‘Yes, I’m aware of that, Mr Haldane,’ she replied, her lips compressed into a narrow line.

It was Ensign Andrews’s turn to speak.

‘Admiral, I’ve sent the message as ordered, but I’ve got the Grant and the Dowding on the comm. They’re asking if we’re going to jump to Io and engage the enemy.’

‘Tell them to hold position,’ Chen replied.

‘We have to do something!’ Haldane hissed.

Chen rounded on him.

‘Mr Haldane, I am in command of this ship and of this fleet. I am fully aware of the tactical situation. I am also aware that we cannot detect Shaper vessels in transit through hyperspace. This is likely an attempt to get us to abandon our defence of Earth and engage Cox’s forces in Io space, meanwhile their unseen Shaper accomplices are free to attack Earth.’

‘There are ground and space based defences.’

‘All of them static. Please Commander, you know as well as I do that ground based weaponry is at best a token defence against spacecraft in high orbit.’

‘What do you intend to do?’

‘Draw them in, right where I want them. If they want to take Earth they’ll have to take us on first. I’m banking on them not being aware of the Nemesis class ships. As soon as they jump in, I’m going to fucking annihilate them.’

‘And if they are aware of them and try to take them out?’

‘The crews of those ships will detonate their warheads.’

‘A suicide mission?’

Chen looked him straight in the eye.

‘This whole situation is a suicide mission, Mr Haldane. We’ll be damn lucky if any of us are alive once this is over. We have to defend Earth at all costs. I hope you fully appreciate the meaning of that phrase. No retreat, no surrender! If they come here, they die!’

‘Admiral, sensors detect that the enemy fleet is emerging from their jump,’ said Singh. ‘Jesus, they’re right inside the traffic control zone around Galileo Station! I’m getting a feed from a traffic monitoring camera around Ganymede. It’s a little grainy, putting it through to your HUD.’

The four enemy carrier battle groups emerged from their jumps and ploughed straight into the busy traffic lanes around Galileo Station. Using their superior shielding and armour they rammed through lines of smaller fleeing craft at full speed, smashing flitters and shuttles like children’s toys. Then they begin to fire. Energy and laser fire exploded into surrounding vessels packed with fleeing passengers, extinguishing thousands of innocent lives. Passenger liners, freighters, shuttles. All were gutted by the guns of the renegade fleet. Amidst the panic, some vessels tried to make a run for it as squadrons of fighters from the carriers chased them down. Very few were successful in their desperate escape attempts. An expanding wake of wreckage and vented atmospheric gases began to fill the space recently occupied by hundreds of ships as the renegade fleet pressed onwards towards the orbital station.

Shocked by the sudden assault, the local defence forces took a moment to respond, but in any case the defence platforms around the station and on Galileo Station itself were wholly inadequate to deal with the scale and suddenness of the attack. Sporadic fire also began to come from ground based defences on the surface of Io, but it too was ineffective and was quickly silenced by volleys of kinetic warheads from several tactical missile frigates.

In the midst of it all, the Germanicus turned to bring its main gun to bear upon the vast, lazily turning wheel of Galileo Station. The cries of surrender and appeals for mercy being broadcast from the orbital structure went ignored as the carrier aimed itself squarely at the station’s reactor core, and opened fire with its massive plasma cannon.

Chen saw the flash over the remote link, saw Galileo Station vanish inside a blinding, expanding shell of light and energy. When it cleared, the broken pieces of the wheel shaped structure were falling away from one another, trailing streams of debris, tumbling bodies and swirling clouds of rapidly freezing atmosphere. Memories came flooding back. She had once committed a similar crime. She had panicked and made a mistake. Thousands had died. Galileo Station was an enormous structure; it was the centre of commerce and tourism in that part of the system. There must have been tens of thousands of people on board at the very least. She had seen them all murdered at a stroke. She heard sobs and curses from her crew.

‘Oh god, it’s a massacre!’ said Haldane in alarm. ‘All those people!’

‘We have to stand firm,’ Chen replied. ‘I’d use the jump missiles now, but the Shapers haven’t shown themselves. We’d just be wasting them. Cox I can deal with, however.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Let him come. Ensign Andrews, put me through to all ships.’

‘Aye, Admiral.’

‘All ships, this is Admiral Chen. What we have just seen is merely a taste of what the Shapers and their traitor friends are capable of. We must stand firm and defend our home, or this savagery will be visited a thousand fold upon our families and friends on Earth. The Shapers have yet to play their hand, but they’re out there, waiting for the right moment, I know it. Their time will come, soon enough. Chen out.’

She ended the transmission and pounded the armrests of her chair in anger. Her display clearly showed the chaos erupting around Jupiter. Thousands of tracks, each indicating the trajectory of an individual ship, were erupting from all over the Jovian system, from the various moons and from the platforms in the gas giant’s upper atmosphere as those that could, fled. Very few emerged from Io. The enemy fleet was forming up again. Either they were waiting for her to respond, or they had finished their bloody work and were about to jump again.

‘What the hell are you waiting for, you bastards?’ she cursed under her breath. ‘Come and face me.’

‘Admiral, there’s something… something’s wrong with the hypercom system,’ said Andrews.

‘Ensign, give me the facts please,’ Chen snapped.

‘I’m sorry ma’am, but the entire Arkari Sphere has just dropped off the network.’

Chen felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

‘Get me Mentith.’

‘I’m trying, but the system won’t route any messages beyond our borders. Our own network seems fine, but it’s as though the entire Arkari network isn’t there anymore. Traffic just bounces back as destination unreachable.’

‘Contact Command and see if we can raise any ships through an ad-hoc direct connection. Mr Singh will assist if you if need be.’

‘Aye, Admiral. This may take some time.

What the hell had just happened to the Arkari? It had to be the Shapers’ doing, she just knew it. If they couldn’t get word to the Arkari, then they really were on their own.

The minutes ticked by as Andrews and Singh tried desperately to raise any ships in Arkari space. They were not having much success. Still the enemy fleet waited amid the debris now in orbit around Io.

‘Ma’am, we’re getting a message from Command. Admiral’s eyes only,’ said Andrews.

‘Put it through to my HUD, Ensign,’ Chen replied.

From: FleetComSolar

To: Admiral Michelle Chen CO CNV Winston S. Churchill. Eyes only.

Auth: BHJXD972681K

Message:

Long range sensors are detecting what we believe to be an all out attack against strategic targets across Arkari space. Weapon detonations in the gigatonne range detected. Use of wormholes as possible means of attack. All hypercom traffic to Arkari systems down. Mass virus infection apparent. Commonwealth hypercom nodes to Arkari space have been closed as preventative measure. We will attempt to contact the Arkari via other means.

We regret the loss of Galileo Station. The defence of Earth is to be maintained. Measures are being taken by the Army and Marine Corp to resist any attempted landing but troop numbers are insufficient. The Cabinet has been moved to a secure location.

-Message Ends—

Chen’s heart was in her mouth. She struggled to compose herself and stop her hands from shaking. As she watched, the renegade fleet in the space above Io began to move. They were jumping for Earth. They would be here in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 43

The sky above Keros burned. Those on the surface who looked up fearfully as they scurried to shelters, or to man the planetary defences, saw the sky alive with blossoming spheres of energy, brilliant, retina searing beams and rolling patterns of flashing detonations.

Thousands of hostile vessels were pouring through the multitude of wormholes that had appeared above the planet to be met by withering fire from the badly outnumbered Arkari vessels. The graceful craft cut through the seemingly endless waves of enemy ships. They smashed the primitive vessels with their deadly spatial distortion cannons or duelled one on one with the more sophisticated ships, for amidst the cannon fodder, the deadly craft of the Shapers hunted their prey.

Even the advanced vessels of the Arkari were not invulnerable to such an overwhelming assault. Over two dozen out of the two hundred beautiful craft that had begun the battle lay shattered and dead in space, their gorgeous hulls inert and darkened, and their delicate guts ripped out and mangled. Others still fought on, heavily damaged and scarred by enemy fire.

Yet still the Sword of Reckoning cut a swathe of destruction through the Shaper fleet. The dreadnought’s firepower was unmatched. The Shapers were trying to mob the vessel and bring it down with vast numbers of smaller craft. So far, this tactic was not proving successful. The dreadnought’s guns fired ceaselessly from all angles, surrounding the vessel in a blaze of light, and enemy ships died swiftly amid the criss-crossing beams. Those that strayed into the line of fire of its main cannon resembled the victims of an angry god. They were utterly pulverised by the enormous tidal forces unleashed by a weapon capable of killing stars.

But the Sword of Reckoning was only one ship, it could not be everywhere at once and the battle now extended over two hundred thousand cubic kilometres. Slowly but surely the Shapers and their hordes of slaves were wearing down the Arkari fleet through sheer suicidal persistence.

Beklide stood on the bridge and was viewing the entire battle as a huge holographic projection that hung in the centre of the chamber. Over ten thousand enemy vessels had now entered space between Keros and its moon. They poured from a rough sphere of several dozen wormholes that surrounded the vastly outnumbered Arkari fleet, hurtling towards the beleaguered vessels in great long streams and showing no signs of stopping. Amidst the numerous swarms of enslaved craft, around five hundred Shaper craft had so far been detected and more were arriving all the time. They moved independently or in hunting packs, seeking to isolate Arkari ships from the main fleet and take them down. Beklide’s own fleet moved like a single, amorphous organism or a school of predatory fish, striking out en masse to savage groups of enemy ships with overwhelming firepower before regrouping into defensive postures before the Shapers could react. The Sword of Reckoning spearheaded many of these assaults, driving the enemy back with the weight of its firepower, leaving the destroyers to mop up the survivors. But each assault left her ships more damaged than before and casualties were currently running at over ten per cent. Even the primitive ships of the Shapers’ slave races could damage Arkari vessels when deployed in such large numbers, or if they resorted to kamikaze tactics. At least five Arkari ships had gone down when they had been rammed by large enemy vessels that had detonated their reactor cores.

Currently the Arkari fleet were regrouping for another assault on a large tendril of Shaper destroyers flanked by a force of strange spherical craft.

Ship Master Urkild approached Beklide. His expression was grave.

‘Meritarch, we have managed to make contact outside the system. The ship has constructed a secure connection with a number of other vessels. It’s… it’s not looking good I’m afraid. We have word that attacks are taking place all across the Sphere. It seems that they’re going after strategic systems as we suspected. A number of…’ his voice cracked. He continued with some difficulty. ‘A number of worlds have been attacked from orbit with high yield antimatter weapons. Navy systems, mainly it seems. There have also been reports of a very large Shaper ship or ships that have turned their guns on civilian population centres. Estimates vary but it seems to be continent sized.’

He was shaking visibly. Beklide laid a hand on his shoulder. Urkild continued with some difficulty.

‘I have a list of worlds that we believe have been all but sterilised of life or destroyed entirely and a number of others that have been subjected to severe bombardment. We don’t know the death toll. I wouldn’t even want to speculate but we’re looking at tens if not hundreds of billions dead. The fleet is making a stand where it can but we don’t have enough ships in the right places!’

Beklide felt a roaring in her ears. The world seemed to close in on her. She couldn’t speak. The enormity of what Urkild had told her was too much to bear. She staggered slightly as the deck moved. The ship was powering itself forward for the next attack run.

‘Mentith,’ she heard herself say. ‘Have we… have we heard from him at all?’

‘No,’ Urkild replied. ‘I’m afraid not.’

The Shining Glory danced at the heart of a storm. Six Shaper vessels had come through the wormhole. Though each cruiser sized craft was smaller than the Glory, they had the advantage of numbers and were nonetheless each extremely deadly. Three had peeled away to take on the floating defence batteries around the Black Rock whilst the remaining three were attempting to take down the Arkari warship. The three Shaper vessels were aft of the Glory now. Their alien weapons lashed out at the manta ray shaped craft, striking arcs of energy from its powerful shields. The Glory threw itself into a tight, banking turn, its wings biting deep into the fabric of space time to gain purchase. Now it had the lead Shaper craft in its sights. Its forward batteries of spatial distortion cannons opened up at once, impacting the Shaper craft’s bow section like a sledgehammer through glass. The enemy craft wheeled away, writhing along its length like an animal in pain as the Glory shot through the middle of formation, raking the sides of the Shaper vessels with fire as it passed.

On the bridge, Mentith leaned forward in his command chair as multiple holographic images surrounded him. Each showed a different aspect of the battle along with targeting information and the fire orders fed to the Glory’s guns by her weapons officers. The Shaper vessels were coming about again for another attempt.

‘Ship, go after that vessel we just hit once more. Let’s see if we can take that one down. It should even the odds a little.’

‘Agreed,’ the ship’s cat replied. ‘I am detecting fluctuating energy signatures from that vessel. I’d say it’s in trouble.’

‘Good. Another barrage of concentrated fire should finish it off. What of the other ships, the ones that haven’t engaged us?’

The scene of stars, Dyson sphere surface and flashing weapons fire wheeled in the displays as the ship manoeuvred hard.

‘They have successfully reduced our static defences by fifty percent whilst suffering no appreciable damage.’

‘Makes you wonder why we bothered with the damn things in the first place.’

‘They have successfully cleared a path between the wormhole and the Black Rock facility.’

‘Maybe they’re going to try and take the facility. You think that this is a rescue mission for that friend of theirs that we have locked up in there?’

‘Doubtful. My guess would be that they want to know what we know about them. They will attempt to take the facility and its archives and interrogate its personnel.’

‘We may have to abandon the facility and destroy it.’

‘Coming about for another attack run on the Shaper ships. All weapons primed.’

‘Take them.’

‘Pardon me for asking, War Marshal’ said Rekkid as the Shaper ships grew large in the displays. ‘But what about all the people on that station?’

‘They know the risks, and they know their duty,’ Mentith replied curtly. ‘The station has jump capable lifeboats, but then they’ll have to take their chances.’

‘That sounds a little…’

‘Cold? Heartless? What choice do we have? In case you hadn’t noticed Professor, we are being engaged by an enemy force that currently outnumbers us six to one and there is every possibility that more enemy ships could emerge from that wormhole. If the Shapers get aboard Black Rock then the scientists on there will wish that they were dead by the time that the Shapers have finished with them.’

‘I agree,’ said Katherine, her voice quavering. ‘We’ve seen and heard enough of what they do to people. They’ll be dissected like lab-rats.’

The three Shaper ships were rushing closer in the view from the Glory’s bows. The one they had hit previously was limping visibly as the destroyer bore down on it.

‘I’ve always wondered what it was like to be in a space battle,’ said Rekkid, thoughtfully. ‘It’s a curiously detached experience.’

‘Yeah, right up until the point where you’re left choking on hard vacuum,’ Katherine replied. ‘I’m all for new experiences, but…’

‘This is glorious,’ rumbled Steelscale. ‘This ship is a weapon like nothing I have ever seen. The Shapers are going to rue this day, if all Arkari vessels can fight like this.’

The Glory’s guns fired once more, breaking the back of the already damaged Shaper vessel. It died, convulsing, its ice-white shards rapidly turning black and lifeless. Fire spat from the other vessels, hammering the destroyer’s forward shields in a blaze of light.

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ said the measured, female tones of Eonara’s liquid metal figure. ‘War Marshal, I have managed to contact a number of other ships within Arkari space. They have relayed the following message from Fleet Meritarch Beklide in the home system: “Enemy invasion of home system confirmed. We are massively outnumbered and attempting to make a stand. Activate all ground defences. Defence of the home world is to be made using all means necessary. We are on our own.” I have also managed to obtain reports of attacks launched across a number of key systems and there are unconfirmed reports of planet-killer class weapons being deployed against civilian worlds. Reports mention the mass use of wormholes like the one we see before us to allow large numbers of ships to achieve total tactical surprise. There are also indications that the human Solar System is under sustained assault from forces loyal to the Shapers.’

There were gasps and cries from the assembled beings on the bridge. Even Mentith’s normally implacable face appeared ashen.

‘Furthermore,’ Eonara continued. ‘I have managed to isolate samples of the virus program deployed against our hypercom network. Though I have not managed to develop a countermeasure as yet, I have managed to determine its origins.’

‘You have?’ Mentith replied.

‘Yes. It was inserted into our communications network by the Shaper agent currently under heavy guard in the Black Rock facility. There are markers within the data that indicate its point of origin.’

Mentith put his face in his hands.

‘They’ve been playing us, all along,’ he muttered angrily. ‘How could I have been so stupid?’ He cursed loudly in Arkari and thumped the arm of his chair. ‘Ship, signal the Black Rock. Tell them to abandon the station and detonate its reactor cores.’

‘At once.’

‘And ship, they are to leave no-one behind who can answer any questions about what we know.’

‘Yes. Communicating now. Message acknowledged. Shaper vessels are closing fast.’

‘Engage and destroy.’

In a desperate attempt to defend its fellow craft, one Shaper vessel was resorting to suicide tactics in order to try and take down the Sword of Reckoning. Beklide saw its spiny shape approaching head on at full speed. It was a futile gesture. Beams from the bows of the massive dreadnought leapt out and tore the already damaged ship apart. The blasted remains careered off the dreadnought’s shields in several pieces, striking rows of sparking energy as they did so. But where one had fallen, there were hundreds ready to take its place.

However, the ship had some good news for her:

‘Meritarch, I am receiving a priority message from the Ring’s A.Is,’ said the Reckoning. ‘They have successfully re-established communication links to their systems and are powering up planetary defences.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Tactical coordination may be a little sluggish as they are using sub-light comms. Hypercom systems are still down. Radio, electrical and optical communications are now functional.’

‘No matter. Tell them to fire at will.’

The Sword of Reckoning was tearing into a long line of destroyer sized craft fashioned from bulbous, interlinked modules. There was no telling where these craft had originated or who had built them. It didn’t matter, the race who had constructed them in some far off corner of the galaxy were nothing but slaves to the Shapers now. The death that the Arkari dreadnought brought to them was a mercy, an act of liberation. Beklide checked her tactical displays and saw a chain of immense energy spikes all around the Ring that girdled Keros.

Multiple blinding beams of energy and swarms of guided warheads blasted out from that megastructure, crossing thousands of kilometres in a matter of seconds and raking across the flanks of the enemy fleet with deadly precision. Ships began to die by the hundred amidst the firestorm. The fury of the Arkari in the defence of their home-world was unmatched.

‘Look!’ cried Ship Master Urkild. ‘See those bastards burn! All weapons, fire at will on the enemy!’

The Reckoning turned and dove into the opposite flank of the enemy fleet, ripping through squadrons of enemy vessels with wild abandon. The bloodlust of the Arkari fleet was up now and the ships and crews began to scent victory. They each circled and charged into the fray, hulls gleaming bright in the light from the sun, brilliant weapons piercing the void.

‘Meritarch, I am detecting unusual activity at the original wormhole,’ the Reckoning reported. ‘The aperture is growing in size. Width is now one hundred and fifty units and increasing. I am attempting to get a reading through the hole but there is much interference from the radiation backwash of the battle.’

The Sword of Reckoning was at the heart of the enemy fleet now, unleashing the fury of its entire complement of weaponry at the surrounding ships. It corkscrewed through the vast formation, spreading death amongst the Shapers and their enslaved cannon fodder and shot out of the other side amidst a huge nuclear fireball of exploding reactor cores. With the dreadnought clear, the squadrons of destroyers dove onto the shattered formations and began to tear them apart.

‘Something big must be coming through,’ Urkild responded, stating the obvious. ‘Maybe it’s one of those giant ships that we’ve heard rumour of.’

‘I fear that you are right,’ said the ship. ‘I am detecting a vessel of enormous size on the other side of the wormhole. It is difficult to get a true reading but the returns suggest that it may be ten times the length of this vessel.’

The Shapers were responding in kind to the latest attack. Hunting packs of the sleek, crystalline ships leapt after the Arkari craft, attempting to isolate and overwhelm individual vessels. Beklide saw the Winter’s Chill come apart under heavy fire. The destroyer - now out of control and dying - slammed straight into a Shaper ship before exploding.

‘They’re coming for us,’ said Urkild, his voice fearful. ‘They’re coming to take our world from us.’

‘Let them try,’ Beklide responded. ‘Ship, disengage and bring us about to a position above the wormhole. Signal to squadrons one through ten to form up with us. We have to take this thing down or it’s all over.’

Two of the Shaper vessels had rammed into the Black Rock, embedding their noses into the armoured docking bays that had parted like wet paper before their weaponry and diamond hard hulls. Inside the facility, nightmarish creatures spilled from the bows of the two vessels, charging through the halls of the facility in an attempt to reach the reactor core. The scientists inside made a brave stand, aided by squads of combat drones, but they were overwhelmed by the ferocious tide. Those that were not torn apart in suicidal charges by bomb rigged, enslaved creatures were dragged away screaming to whatever terrible fate awaited them.

Others were luckier. The Black Rock began to shed escape pods like a flower shedding delicate, bright seeds. They fell away in brilliant showers, twisting and turning in the starlight. Some were struck down by fire from the remaining Shaper ships, but safe in their numbers, many succeeded in jumping quickly away in all directions before they could be caught or killed.

Those aboard the Shining Glory saw what was happening. The destroyer had just taken down the last of its three attackers, and now turned its attention to the other three vessels assaulting the station. Final detonation of the Black Rock’s reactors was still several minutes away.

The ship spoke.

‘War Marshal, I am receiving a transmission from the Black Rock. The crew have sealed themselves in the reactor chamber but it will take some time for total meltdown to be achieved. Already the Shaper creatures are attempting the blow the bulkheads and gain access to the chamber.’

Mentith swore.

‘Can’t we get them out?’ said Rekkid, in horror and disbelief. ‘You’re asking them to kill themselves!’

‘They’re already dead,’ Mentith replied. ‘Once the Shapers get hold of them… and they will. There isn’t enough time.’

‘Can’t we destroy the station ourselves?’ said Steelscale. ‘The guns of this warship…’

‘…are not sufficient to breach the reactor core in time. The Black Rock asteroid is a giant lump of heavy metals. It would take quite some time for us to burrow through it, even with our main guns. Our best hope is to take down those remaining ships and deny the Shapers a chance of escape with their prize.’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Katherine, pointing at one of the external displays hovering around Mentith that showed the wormhole exit. Another six enemy ships could be seen emerging from it. They were larger vessels than those that had preceded them. Each was roughly the size of the Shining Glory.

‘That wormhole…’ mused Mentith. ‘This is how the Shapers have managed to attack all of our systems.’

‘Yes,’ the ship replied.

‘It doesn’t matter how many ships we kill, the Shapers can just redeploy additional forces here to wear us down.’

‘In all probability.’

‘Eonara, what do you know of the Progenitor wormhole devices?’

‘Everything,’ Eonara replied. ‘I have access to full schematics and research.’

‘The Shapers must be using a similar device or devices. Do you think you would know how disable or destroy one?’

‘I think so. Such a device would require enormous reserves of energy. If we attack the power relays and capacitors we may stand a chance of taking it out of action, yes.’

‘Good. Ship, bring us about and head for the wormhole. Prime all weapons and prepare to fire. It’s time to put a stop to this.’

‘I’ll need full control of the ship,’ said Eonara. ‘We won’t get a second chance at this. I know it goes against everything…’

‘Agreed,’ Mentith replied. ‘Ship, relinquish control to Eonara. Eonara, I am releasing the authorisation protocols to you now, you now have full access to the ships drive, shields and weapons. Don’t let me down.’

The Shining Glory began to power forward toward the shining aperture, the hideous light of the Maelstrom shining through it like a baleful eye. Rekkid and Katherine stared in horror at the approaching wormhole as it grew larger and larger in their field of vision. The six additional Shaper vessels were fanning out and looping around to engage the Glory.

‘Are you out of your fucking mind, you crazy old bastard!?’ cried Rekkid at Mentith. ‘We’re about to take one ship into the Shapers’ lair in the centre of the galaxy!’

‘Do not question my command decisions, Professor,’ Mentith spat. ‘Our actions could save billions of lives. Our enemy thinks that they have us on the back foot. This, they will not expect.’

‘Oh, great. You know I thought being an archaeologist would be a sedate sort of existence. Nice and quiet. Digging things up in the countryside. But no!’

‘Rekkid,’ said Katherine. ‘Please be quiet and hold my hand.’ She looked at him fiercely.

‘I… yes, of course,’ he replied weakly.

‘If we’re going to die, I want to be with a friend when it happens. Okay?’

Rekkid nodded mutely and saw his own fear reflected in Katherine’s eyes.

Its engines straining to maximum, the Shining Glory plunged into the wormhole and into the heart of the galaxy.

Chen watched the enemy fleet approach, the tracks of their warp signatures clearly visible on her HUD. They were inside the orbit of the Moon now. The attack was seconds away.

‘They’re here,’ said Singh. ‘Enemy ships emerging from their jumps ten thousand kilometres ahead.’

‘Ready all weapons and prepare to fire,’ said Chen. ‘This is it, people. This is where we make a stand.’

‘Admiral, the Germanicus is hailing us,’ said Andrews.

‘Tell Cox I don’t bandy words with traitors and alien parasites. Tell him to surrender now, or he dies.’

‘Brave words indeed, Admiral.’ The image of Admiral Cox appeared in her vision, she heard Andrews howl in protestation. Somehow he had circumvented their systems. ‘Brave words from a dead woman. Can’t you see that you have lost? Your Arkari friends cannot help you now. Even as we speak, their worlds burn!’

‘Better dead than enslaved. You creatures might have taken over so many of our people, but you haven’t learnt a damn thing about humans have you? We don’t ever give up, we don’t surrender and we don’t negotiate with the likes of you!’

‘Admiral, the enemy fleet has closed to five thousand kilometres,’ said Singh. ‘Still no sign of the Shaper ships.’

‘Instruct all ships to launch our fighters and bombers,’ Chen replied. ‘Ready main weapons for firing. Ground forces are to stand by and prepare to repel any assault.’

‘Relaying messages now.’

‘Enslaved?’ said Cox. ‘No. No… liberated. Besides, we only take those who resist us. Those who join us willingly… we reward.’

Chen remembered a similar offer in the basement of an ancient temple, hundreds of light years away. She thought of Al Ramirez then, as he died in her arms. The Shapers had played their part there. She required vengeance.

‘Enemy ships are a thousand kilometres off our bows!’ Singh cried. ‘They are assuming combat posture and are making ready to fire.’

Above Keros, the massive armoured nose of the Shaper dreadnought began to exit the newly expanded wormhole. It was truly vast. An enormous, tapering, whale-like body trailed glittering spines that extended back from a main hull over a thousand kilometres in length. It dwarfed the Sword of Reckoning. Plains of crystal caught the sunlight as it emerged, like a giant creature being born. Across those shining, curving plates, enormous gouges, ten of kilometres long and gaping craters like open wounds had been torn - evidence of earlier encounters with Arkari vessels. They had barely scratched its surface. It moved slowly, ponderously, the giant plates moving against one another as it tried to shake itself free of the wormhole aperture. Still a full half of the ship lay on the other side of the wormhole

Beams of retina searing energy leapt from hundreds of points on that gleaming, ice white hull. Arkari ships began to die quickly.

Beklide heard herself scream the order to fire and the main gun of dreadnought unleashed the fury of a black hole at the Shaper ship as every other gun on the Sword of Reckoning and those accompanying it up fired in unison in a desperate attempt to stop the massive vessel. Hull armour buckled and shattered across the surface of the Shaper dreadnought. Spines and plates tore and splintered. Still it kept on coming. The Sword of Reckoning’s forward shields were beginning to buckle under the sustained onslaught.

‘Meritarch. I am detecting massive energy readings from that vessel,’ said the ship. ‘It is difficult to penetrate such a depth of hull armour, but given the distribution of the power signatures, I’d say that that ship is basically a single, gigantic weapon.’

‘It seems to have other weapons, I don’t know if you’d noticed!’

‘Yes, but they are very much secondary to its main armament. The centre line of that ship contains some sort of focusing chamber along eighty percent of the length of the hull linked to a network of power sources spread throughout the ship.’

‘A planet killer,’ breathed Beklide. ‘It has to be. The reports were true.’

‘Yes,’ the ship replied.

Within the Shaper craft; energy levels began to rise steeply.

The Shining Glory emerged from the far side of the wormhole into the heart of the enemy’s lair. Katherine and Rekkid gasped at the terrible sight that greeted them. The Maelstrom hung before them. Tens of light years wide. The eater of stars. Its accretion disk - the accumulated corpses of a million stars - shone down on them with an apocalyptic death-light.

The hellish sky was filled with ships. They stretched in every direction in uncountable swarms, of every shape and size from a thousand unknown races enslaved by the Shapers. Shaper craft themselves moved amongst the herds, shepherding them to the great ring that hung in the sky behind the speeding Arkari destroyer, turning slowly in the disc-light. The ring lay at the tips of two blinding beams of directed energy from the arrays that floated above the black hole. The rear portion of a vast Shaper ship could be seen entering the wormhole. Miraculously, the Glory had emerged astern of the titanic vessel and avoided colliding with its massive hull.

Wings biting hard into space-time the Glory pirouetted through the lines of queuing ships until its bows faced the wormhole device constructed by the Shapers.

There was confusion in the ranks of the waiting fleet. The lumbering ships moved slowly to engage, but the Shaper craft had seen the bright, defiant Arkari ship. Like wolves, they moved in for the kill. This would be… amusing.

Enemy fire searing its shields, the Shining Glory leapt forward.

Reynaud emerged from his jump and took in the scene in an instant. Earth lay before him, the birthplace of man, that mortal race to which he had once belonged. Its continents and seas were bright jewel-like against the blackness of space. Now he truly felt like a god. He spotted the tiny specks of the loyalist fleet against the backdrop of the planet. Five carriers arranged in a rough X formation with attendant warships surrounding them. This would be another massacre like Achernar. He yearned for the kill. He stretched out his consciousness to his fellow ships and savoured their bloodlust

‘Shaper ships emerging from hyperspace!’ cried Singh. ‘Twenty new contacts emerging either side of the Renegade vessels!’

‘Nemesis ships, this is Chen. Fire on the enemy fleet!’

‘Belay that order!’ cried Haldane suddenly, and in shock Chen turned to him and found a gun thrust in her face. ‘Admiral, Michelle, I can’t let you do this!’ he cried, a wild look on his normally composed features.

‘John, no. Oh god no…’ she said slowly with the horror of realisation. ‘How did they get to you? How long have you been one of them?’

His hands were shaking. The pistol in his hand wavered. It was a Navy issue rail pistol. Chen could see down the barrel, could see the way the light gleamed off the rifling grooves.

‘Admiral Chen,’ he said slowly and deliberately. ‘I am relieving you of command. Order the fleet to stand down.’

‘You’ll never make it off this ship alive,’ she shot back. ‘You can kill me, but you can’t take on the whole ship, you vile creature.’

‘I’m not one of them!’ he retorted. ‘Don’t you get it? I work for Morgan. He posted me here to keep an eye on you and Haines.’

‘I see,’ she could see the enemy fleet now, out of the corner of her eye. Bright points against the blackness. Her HUD was highlighting them. It was showing her something else too. The comm. channel to the Nemesis class ships was still open. Haldane, in his haste, had left it open. They were hearing all of this.

‘Morgan is no traitor and he’s no slave either!’ said Haldane in desperation, pleading with her. ‘He saw the hard truth: that the only way that humanity can survive is to ally ourselves with the Shapers.’

‘What about all those men and women enslaved by the Shapers?’

‘Morgan’s talked them out of taking all of us. He’s made a deal. No more taking of worlds, no enslavement of all humanity. All we have to do is lay down our arms and make peace with the Shapers and become their allies.’

The Shining Glory swooped in low across the surface of the alien ring. Eonara had found exactly what she was looking for. The ring was a ramshackle construction in her estimation. A thrown together, hurried thing. The great power couplings that drank in siphoned energy from the black hole’s event horizon were horribly exposed. It was a careless design flaw, an imperfection. How ironic, thought Eonara, as she opened fire with everything that the Shining Glory could give her. There was a titanic explosion.

Energy began to build around the nose of the Shaper dreadnought. Tens of kilometres of arcing energies looped and whipped as they were gathered and focused by machineries unknown. Keros hung before the vessel, beautiful, vulnerable. The energy readings from the enemy ship were off the scale.

The armoured plates around the nose of the vessel began to part like the complicated jaws of some terrible creature revealing the gaping barrel of the dreadnought’s primary weapon, now primed and aimed at the billions of helpless Arkari on the world before it.

It prepared to fire.

At the heart of the galaxy, a new supernova erupted. The detonation of the Shaper wormhole device created a shockwave equivalent in power to the core collapse of a star. The Shining Glory rode the shockwave, its sub-light drive straining at full to escape the rapidly expanding shell of energy. Her aft shields were gone. Her hull began to buckle and melt under the intense heat.

Eonara struggled to keep the ship on course as it shook violently. There was too much local space-time distortion to jump. The destruction of the wormhole generator had briefly spun off a number of short lived singularities that had devoured enemy ships and ripped apart the fabric of reality.

She ran the hyperspace calculations until her AI core could take no more.

She took a lucky guess, and jumped.

The Shining Glory vanished into the darkness.

Beklide saw the wormhole begin to shrink even as the Sword of Reckoning alerted her to the fact. The Shaper dreadnought was still partially within the wormhole, the perimeter of which was now narrower that its vast hull. As the wormhole collapsed it sliced the vessel cleanly in two, leaving each half in different parts of the galaxy. Bisected, the Shaper dreadnought was doomed.

As Beklide watched, the pent up energies within the dreadnought’s main gun broke free in all directions in a massive shockwave as the containment fields holding them in place collapsed instantly. Two hundred kilometres of the bow section vanished instantly inside a great sphere of brilliant matter-energy conversion. The energy blast ballooned outwards, collapsing the remainder of the Sword of Reckoning’s shields and searing its hull with intense heat and lit up the skies of Keros with a blinding white light.

The remains of the Shaper dreadnought’s fore section was wracked by internal explosions as her fleet continued to pour fire into it before it too blew up in a chain reaction of reactor core breaches.

As the Arkari looked about, all of the wormholes above the planet had closed. Beklide was filled with relief. Somehow, they had done it! She didn’t know how, and right now she didn’t care. Keros had been saved from certain destruction. With vengeance in her heart she ordered the remains of the Arkari fleet to destroy the remaining enemy ships in the system.

‘Make peace, huh?’ said Chen. ‘It’s that simple is it? Give up Earth.’

‘It’s the right choice Admiral, please,’ Haldane pleaded with her. ‘It doesn’t have to end this way.’

Chen saw new contacts appear above the Shaper fleet out of the corner of her HUD monocle. They were falling towards the enemy ships at great speed. The Nemesis crews had done their duty regardless. Chen had managed to play her winning hand after all.

‘Over my dead body!’ she screamed. ‘All ships, fire at will! Security to the bridge!’

‘Don’t move!’ yelled Haldane. ‘Nobody fucking move!’

There was blinding flash from beyond the bridge windows. Chen’s world was suddenly rendered black and white. Then it became white on white. The antimatter missiles. Their deadly payloads were right on target.

Chen moved.

Two gunshots rang out.

Epilogue

Isaacs and Anna made their way through the battered remains of the bay doors into the main hangar. Dressed in environment suits they found the going tough in the debris strewn chamber. The floor, walls and ceiling had been ripped apart by the Shaper ship. Parts of smashed ships and equipment were piled in tangled drifts across the bay, whilst horribly mutilated bodies, some human, some of races as yet unknown to man, lay in sad, pathetic heaps. Isaacs tried to avoid looking at the faces of the dead as much as possible. It was their expressions of utter horror that upset him the most. The enslaved had all known what was happening to them, right until the end, and had been powerless to stop it.

There was no sign of Anita. She had simply vanished. It was if she had never existed. After a while, Isaacs and Anna came to the conclusion that she must have been killed in those final, suicidal acts of defiance as the enslaved had charged the Order and detonated their explosives.

They held each other amidst the devastation and remembered a bright young girl now lost to them forever.

Eventually, they struggled through the mangled wreckage and reached the doors to the adjoining bay. Anna helped Isaacs to move the piles of debris away from the door controls before they manually cycled the locks and opened them.

Inside, sat the Profit Margin. Untouched and unharmed. Isaacs almost wept with relief.

‘See?’ said Anna. ‘Your baby’s unscathed.’

‘Well at least that’s something,’ Isaacs replied.

‘Yeah. We’re floating dead in the middle of enemy occupied space, the Commonwealth is at war with itself and we just fought off a horde of zombies, but it’s okay because your toy is in one piece,’ said Anna, her voice laden with sarcasm.

‘She’s the best ship that we have left,’ Isaacs replied defensively.

‘She’s about the only ship that we have left,’ said Anna gloomily.

‘We need to get a message to the Navy. We need to tell them that we know how to fight the Shapers. We need to tell them that the Nahabe have found a way to detect the Shapers’ transmissions, that they can detect the enemy and are making ready for war.’

‘Got a plan to tell them that without bringing the entire Shaper fleet down on our heads again?’ said Anna.

‘Maybe I do,’ Isaacs replied. ‘I’ll think of something.’

About the Author

Dan Worth was born in Bradford in the United Kingdom in 1977 and was educated at Hull and Bradford Universities. He has probably worked in every office job known to man at some point and writing kept him sane during his evenings and weekends. He writes for his own enjoyment but even though he now spends his working hours in a job he enjoys he still likes to wander off into his own imaginary worlds during his spare time.

Also by Dan Worth

Exiles, Book One of the Progenitor Trilogy