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Flagship

Test of Mettle

Cradle of War

Planet Killer

Where Darkness Lies (Jan 2017)

Alien War Trilogy

Hoplite

Zeus

Titan

ATLAS Trilogy (published by 47North)

ATLAS

ATLAS 2

ATLAS 3

Science Fiction

The Forever Gate Series

The Dream

A Second Chance

The Mirror Breaks

They Have Wakened Death

I Have Seen Forever

Rebirth

Walls of Steel

The Pendulum Swings

The Last Stand

Thrillers

The Ethan Galaal Series

Clandestine

A Cold Day In Mosul

Terminal Phase

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PLANET KILLER

A CAPTAIN'S CRUCIBLE

BOOK FOUR

Isaac Hooke

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, organizations, places, events and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

Text copyright © Isaac Hooke 2016

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

www.IsaacHooke.com

Cover design by Isaac Hooke

Cover image by Shookooboo

Special thanks to the following Beta Readers who helped out with Planet Killer:

Nicole P.

Don M.

Amy B.

Lisa A. G.

Gregg C.

Jeff K.

Mark C.

Jeremy G.

Doug B.

Jenny O.

Lezza M.

Gene A.

Larry J.

Allen M.

Gary F.

Robine

Eric

table of contents

one

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

nine

ten

eleven

twelve

thirteen

fourteen

fifteen

sixteen

seventeen

eighteen

nineteen

twenty

twenty-one

twenty-two

twenty-three

twenty-four

twenty-five

twenty-six

twenty-seven

twenty-eight

postscript

about the author

acknowledgments

one

Jonathan focused on the steel bulwark he had built with his mind. He imagined soldiers and combat robots armed with laser rifles and plasma blasters, roaming to and fro along the upper walkways of that bulwark. He envisioned autonomous pulse cannon emplacements, ready to track and fire upon anything that moved in the darkness beyond.

Movement drew his gaze to the murk, where swirling shapes had begun to form in the blackness. The captains and crews who had served underneath him and died in combat. Their bodies were stacked one atop the other, forming a vast pile that easily equaled the height of the bulwark. Admiral Hartford Knox resided at the top, pointing down at him accusingly.

Jonathan lost his concentration and the bulwark crumbled.

“Failed,” a disembodied voice informed him. “Unconducive brain wave pattern. Open your eyes.”

He did so, and found himself once more seated cross-legged amid the individual stalks of a wheat field. A red pyramid, blue sphere, and green box slowly hovered at eye level about a meter in front of him, each the size of a fist and slowly revolving around its Y axis. The wheat field stretched before him all the way to the horizon, where snow-capped mountains nestled in the distance. The sun peered down from a nearly clear blue sky. Around him, the wheat swayed to and fro, as if affected by a gentle breeze. He did not feel that breeze, or the sun, on his skin.

“Concentrate on the three-dimensional objects,” the voice said again.

Jonathan tried, but his gaze drifted to the wheat. Growing amid the stalks was a flower gone to seed, its globular head covered in downy tufts. One of the tufts loosened and drifted away on the gentle wind. Beside it, from another stalk, baby spiders launched into the air, dispersing on threads of silk.

Soon Jonathan would be free like that, too. Free of all burdens.

“Concentrate on the three-dimensional objects,” the voice repeated.

Jonathan sighed, and then shut down the virtual environment of the psi training app. The peaceful field winked out, replaced by the steel-walled holding cell of the brig, where he was seated cross-legged on the bare deck beside his bunk. He resided aboard Etalon Station, in orbit above the third planet of Beta Ursae Majoris.

“You don’t want to develop your psi defenses?” the voice said. It belonged to the local AI of the aReal glasses he wore. The glasses were connected to the cloud computing resources of the station, so that essentially he conversed with the station’s AI core.

He glanced longingly at the empty bunk above his own, wishing he had a human cellmate. The AI would have to do.

“I didn’t expect it to be so hard,” Jonathan said.

“Nothing is ever easy,” the AI replied. “Not for humans.”

“I suppose not,” Jonathan said. He stared at the steel bulkheads around him. “Did you know, my crew developed psi shielding?”

“I was not aware,” the AI said.

“Yes. It will take some time, of course, before shielding protocols percolate throughout the fleet. But once they do, no one will need psi defenses.”

“That will prove beneficial,” the AI said. “Considering that only those with the inborn ability can develop them in the first place.”

“Too bad my inborn ability is so weak,” Jonathan replied.

“You would have never become captain if you were any stronger,” the AI intoned.

“True enough.” He reached under his aReal glasses and rubbed his eyes. If he had been stronger, they would have drafted him straightaway into the psi corps.

“Do you wish to run the training app again?” the AI asked.

Jonathan shook his head. “What does it matter? I’m not going to be in the navy for much longer, anyway.”

“You don’t know that the trial will find you guilty,” the AI said.

“And I don’t know I’ll be acquitted, either,” Jonathan said.

“Another program then, perhaps?” the AI asked.

Jonathan considered. Access to an aReal was a prisoner’s legal right. However, the station authority restricted those programs he could execute, limiting his VR sessions to the nonviolent type. Not that he was in the mood for the violence at the moment. “Yes. Bring up Galactic Explorer.”

In seconds he was soaring through the vast gulf of deep space, his disembodied form hurtling past colorful nebulae, strange planets and flaring stars. He sighed contentedly.

Oh, to be out there again for real.

As he passed through a particularly beautiful star system, he found himself musing upon the nature of reality. Photons, the gauge boson or force carrier for electromagnetism, were emitted when an electron or other atomic particle transitioned to a lower energy level. Emitted was perhaps the wrong word, because those photons merely represented a bundle of properties that always existed, casting a shadow known as matter in the three dimensions of this universe.

After a state transition, these bundles of properties that had become photons were represented as electromagnetic waves in our three-dimensional universe, where they traveled until absorbed by another electron or atomic particle, transitioning said particle to a higher energy level, and returning the bundle of properties to its shadow state. This transition could be used to harness cellular energy, as in the case of photosynthesis, the basis for all life on Earth. Photons created in the core of a star could take up to a million years to transition to the corona, due to constant collisions, absorption and reemission.

Repulsive forces existed in the bundles of properties that represented all matter. Nothing ever really touched. There were no actual solids in the world. The only thing that prevented Jonathan from passing through the vast empty spaces between the molecules of the deck and those of his body were those repulsive forces. This reality, this falsehood the mind created, interpreting those spaces as solids solely because of the resolution limits of the human eye and the tactile sense of human touch, gave substance to a substanceless world and created the falsehood of reality. Beams of lights, photons, were absorbed by the retinal molecule—C20H28O—in the photoreceptors of the eyes, provoking an isomerization that was translated into nerve impulses, creating the illusion of vision in that grand computer program called reality, as executed by the human brain.

We think we’re real. But we’re not.

None of what he saw was real, not entirely. Things like virtual reality only further simulated a simulated world. Neither were real, not virtual reality, nor actual reality. At least not from the point of view of the universe. From the false constraints of the human mind, maybe, but to the universe, no.

That was why it really didn’t matter what the outcome of his trial was. Not in the least.

If I were to die now, all of this would wink out instantly, replaced by nothingness.

He remembered asking one of his AI tutors, when he was but a young boy of five: “What is death?”

The AI played a video feed on his aReal, consuming his vision with a scene of a mountain lake. Birds chirped nearby. An alphorn echoed from the mountains. The sunlight reflected from the rippling water. The scent of evergreens and freshly turned soil wafted to his nostrils via the olfactory extensions of the aReal he had at the time.

“Do you see the mountain?” the AI asked. “The lake?”

“Yes,” Jonathan said.

The screen went black. All sounds vanished. All scents.

“That is death,” the AI said.

Jonathan sighed. Virtual reality always made him question his existence, and his place in the overall scheme of things. Especially when he ran apps like Galactic Explorer.

He resolved to clear his mind and to concentrate on the experience. For the past minute, though his eyes were open, he hadn’t really seen a thing. He focused on the swirling colors of the accretion disk surrounding the black hole he was passing, and the distortions its gravitational lens caused to the Large Magellanic Cloud behind it. 

In the upper right of his vision, text abruptly flashed.

Incoming call.

He didn’t recognize the caller, but he shut down the VR experience with a sigh and connected in “holographic display” mode.

A man appeared in the center of the cell, in the spot where Jonathan performed his morning pushups. He was seated in a holographic chair.

“Captain Dallas,” the man said.

“That’s me,” Jonathan replied. “Though I’m not captain of anything but a steel cell at the moment.”

“My name is Lieutenant Francis McAvoy,” the man replied three seconds later. “I’m uploading my complete background information to your aReal now.”

A message box popped up on Jonathan’s aReal, asking him to approve the information transfer request. Jonathan’s gaze lingered on the virtual box, but then he glanced at the man without accepting.

Sensing Jonathan’s reluctance, McAvoy said: “I’ve been appointed to represent you against the charge of ‘conduct to the prejudice of good order and discipline,’ as set out in General Article 134 of the Manual for Courts-Martial.”

Ah. Jonathan’s legal counsel.

He accepted the data packet and glanced over the lieutenant’s background contained therein.

A naval aviator, McAvoy was previously an attorney in civilian life. He had been temporarily pulled from duty aboard the USS Martin to offer free counsel to Jonathan. It wasn’t clear whether McAvoy remained aboard said vessel, which was apparently operating in the vicinity, though the three second lag between his responses hinted at that.

“I’m not charged with attempted mutiny?” Jonathan asked.

“No,” McAvoy said a moment later. “A charge of ‘making a mutiny’ would be harder for the prosecution to prove.”

“How so?”

“A mutiny involves a violent change of command or refusal to obey orders with no basis in navy protocol or regulation. According to the data I have reviewed so far, you believed you were invoking Article 1088 of the United Systems Navy Regulations when you attempted the vote of no confidence against Admiral Hartford Knox. There was no violence involved, and the aforementioned article gave you the basis for your attempt. A charge of mutiny, going by the definition of Article 94 of the Manual for Courts-Martial, would not stick. But the conduct charge, well, it’s a catch-all provided for complicated offenses that don’t fall under any other articles. And the prosecutor obviously believes it has a prima facie case, or we wouldn’t be here.”

“I see,” Jonathan said. I’ll never escape Hartford’s ghost.

McAvoy frowned. “Were the charges against you not read in the presence of a commanding officer and neutral third officer before your confinement?”

“I suppose they were,” Jonathan said. “I’m not too big on pretrial confinement. More than seventy-two hours have passed. I was hoping to have free reign of the station by now.”

“The judge advocate deemed you a flight risk.” The judge advocate was the legal counsel for the prosecution.

“The judge advocate?” Jonathan said. “But he doesn’t have the legal authority to confine me.”

“It, not he,” McAvoy said. “Lieutenant Commander Lanvar is an Artificial. And it convinced the president of the court that you were a flight risk.”

Jonathan shook his head. “A flight risk. I don’t even have the codes to the station shuttles. Or any of the airlocks. How can I be a flight risk?”

McAvoy shrugged. “The decision was made.”

Jonathan sat back. “Tell me something. Can I win?”

McAvoy folded his hands. “Straight up? I don’t know. I haven’t been able to review the full extent of the case—I’m locked out of all the classified information that’s involved. And it won’t be released to me until you accept my counsel. I should probably warn you, Admiral Knox was well-liked, and the president of the court just so happened to be a good friend of his.”

“Great,” Jonathan said.

“So. Do you accept my services?” When Jonathan didn’t answer immediately, the lieutenant added: “You may request AI counsel instead, or of course retain a private attorney to represent you in conjunction with myself. Someone outside the chain of command who can potentially devote more time to your case. At your own expense, of course.”

Jonathan waved a dismissive hand. “I accept your services. And I won’t be hiring a civilian attorney.”

The lieutenant nodded three seconds later. “Good.” His eyes momentarily defocused as he checked something on his aReal. “I see you waived your right to a pretrial investigation.”

“That’s correct,” Jonathan replied.

“May I ask why?”

“I want to get this over with as quickly as possible,” Jonathan said.

“I see,” McAvoy said.

“What do you need from me?” Jonathan asked.

“At the moment?” McAvoy said. “Nothing. I simply wished to introduce myself. I’ll have to review the classified logs that are now available to me. Most of it seems to be from the AI core of the Callaway. You personally backed up this data?”

“Yes,” Jonathan said. “On the holographic drives I brought with me.”

“I trust the data has not been tampered with in any way?”

Jonathan pressed his lips together. He didn’t like the man’s accusatory tone. “If the data was tampered with, the checksums wouldn’t add up.”

“I suppose so,” McAvoy replied. “But as your legal counsel, it is my duty to ask. By the way, the judge advocate plans to call the two captains who returned with you to the stand: Captains Rail and Rodriguez. Should I be concerned about either of their testimonies?”

Jonathan frowned. “I don’t think Rail will have good things to say about me.”

“Can she present any damning evidence?”

“None that won’t already be present within the AI core,” Jonathan said. “But the truth is, she doesn’t like me very much. I’ve got a judge who hates me, a witness who loathes me, and an AI prosecutor that believes I’m a flight risk. Things are looking up.”

“I will be in touch with any questions, Captain Dallas. Thank you.” McAvoy tapped out.

Jonathan stared at the empty cell before him. I’m going to lose.

Via his aReal, he pulled up Article 1088 of the United Systems Navy Regulations. Titled “Relief of a Commanding Officer by a Subordinate,” it explained the conditions by which a subordinate could relieve his or her CO.

It is conceivable that most unusual and extraordinary circumstances may arise in which the relief from duty of a commanding officer by a subordinate becomes necessary, either by placing the commanding officer under arrest or on the sick list, or in the case of a commanding officer resident aboard a separate vessel, by invoking a vote of no confidence as per Provision 194...

two

A chime sounded on Jonathan’s aReal. He sat up in his bunk, arranged himself so that he was comfortably seated, and then connected to the indicated conference. He entered the access code his attorney had sent to his inbox, and in moments the steel cell vanished, replaced by the gray trial room. The virtual representation wasn’t much bigger than the cell, with the squarish compartment coming in at maybe four times the size.

His eyes were drawn to the cherrywood bench at the front of the room. Upon a dais sat the virtual representation of the president of the court, Captain Nefarian. The captain was definitely not a fan of rejuvenation treatments. Wrinkles plowed his forehead so that the skin looked like the disheveled comforter of an unmade bed, and the skin around his eyes and lips was equally marred by crow’s feet and smile lines. His whitish-gray, thinning hair was parted to one side, revealing a thick line of white scalp. His nose ended in a fierce point, his eyes glared beneath thin brows, and his red lips stood out upon his otherwise pale, bloodless face. A small pouch of skin formed a wattle underneath his chin, and his eyes were sunken so that deep shadows surrounded them.

No one was that pallid. Not when the light sources all contained a small UV spectrum element, as per fleet standards. Unless the captain had disabled that setting in his work environment. Then again, Nefarian’s features could have been an exaggeration, or a complete illusion, his avatar deliberately crafted for the virtual environment to make him appear as stern and forbidding as possible. Still, he looked basically the same as the profile picture Jonathan had seen in his file, but that photo may have been digitally altered, too.

Nefarian’s lips were twisted in a caricature of disgust as he regarded Jonathan. He seemed to look down on him from the heights of that long nose. According to his file, he was a former destroyer commander. Why he had been transferred out of that command, Jonathan didn’t know. When Jonathan had executed a search on the name, he discovered Nefarian was the cousin of a senator who had resigned after being caught sending illicit messages to an underage girl. Whether or not the fallout from that scandal had reached Captain Nefarian, Jonathan couldn’t say, but there didn’t seem any other reason the man had been beached.

The navy can be a cruel mistress. Look at what has happened to me, after all.

The stars and planets of a United Systems flag adorned the wall behind Nefarian, set between two large windows in the virtual environment. Beyond those windows resided a beach of white sand, with palm trees overlooking a bay of pristine blue water: it was a cruel reminder to those on trial of what was at stake. 

Jonathan smiled grimly.

The last time I visited a real white sand beach has to be what, ten years ago?

Yes. The Seychelles. On leave. Beautiful place. But so far removed from his current situation.

Three officers sat on either side of Captain Nefarian, forming a semicircle facing Jonathan. Five lieutenants, and one lieutenant commander. They looked like any normal officers one might see in the lobby of the bachelor officers’ quarters on a base or space station, or in the wardroom of a warship. One lieutenant was a reserve lawyer, the rest were regulars of the line.

A raised platform in the center of the room, before the bench, served as the witness box.

In front of and to the side of that bench, Jonathan sat behind a desk beside his counsel, McAvoy. Across from them sat the judge advocate, also at a desk.

“Stand for the oaths,” the judge advocate, Lieutenant Commander Lanvar, said. The Artificial that would prosecute him.

Jonathan stood, as did the other officers.

Lanvar turned toward Nefarian, who raised his right arm. The Artificial then recited the oath from the Manual for Courts-Martial: “Do you affirm that you will faithfully and impartially perform, according to your conscience and the laws applicable to trial by court-martial, all the duties incumbent upon you as military judge of this court-martial?”

“I do solemnly affirm,” the captain replied.

The officers raised their right arms as the judge advocate addressed them next. “Do you affirm that you will faithfully and impartially try, according to the evidence, your conscience, and the laws applicable to trial by court-martial, the case of the accused now before this court; and that you will not disclose or discover the vote or opinion of any particular member of the court upon the findings or sentence unless required to do so in due course of law?”

The officers answered in the affirmative.

Lanvar swore in the rest of the court, including Jonathan and his counsel.

More legal ceremonies were performed, and then the judge advocate gave an opening statement.

“Disobedience of any kind cannot remain unpunished in the navy,” Lanvar said. “The sanctity of the chain of command must be preserved. If orders were not followed, our great Space Navy would fall apart at the seams. Obeying the instructions of a superior officer is the foundation, the very backbone of the navy; without it, we would descend into chaos. Our ships would be little better than those of pirates or privateers, where mutiny is encouraged and rewarded. It is not without good reason that plotting to remove a senior officer from command, or attempting to subvert his authority in any way, is a crime. Today I will prove that Captain Dallas committed such a crime, acting, beyond a doubt, with a reckless disregard for the chain of command.”

McAvoy stood next, and opened the defense with: “We all know that men and women of this great navy cannot act like mindless automatons, blindly obeying orders that may put the fleet and its objective at risk. There is a reason we have Article 1088. I quote: ‘Intelligently fearless initiative is an important trait of military character. It is not the purpose of these regulations to discourage its employment. However, in order that a subordinate officer, acting upon his or her own initiative, may be vindicated for relieving a commanding officer from duty, the situation must be obvious and clear, and must admit of the single conclusion that the retention of command by such commanding officer will seriously and irretrievably prejudice the public interests.’ I will show that Captain Dallas was justified in his call for a vote of no confidence against Admiral Hartford Knox, who was engaged in actions that seriously prejudiced the public interests.”

For the first witness, Lanvar called upon the Callaway’s AI. Even though the Callaway resided in a galaxy millions of lightyears away, enough of Maxwell’s core had been backed up so that the AI could appear “in person,” as it were.

A man materialized in the witness stand. He wore the fatigues of a United Systems naval officer, though there were no rank bars or other insignia. His face was clean-shaven, his head bald. His thin eyebrows almost appeared penciled in. He appeared young, maybe mid-twenties, with fresh, pink skin. The overall effect was of a newborn in a man’s body. The portions of the AI’s personality that had been backed-up would have chosen that digital representation for itself.

For some reason Jonathan had been expecting a toaster.

After Maxwell was sworn in, perhaps unnecessarily so—it was an AI, after all—Lanvar addressed the witness.

“Hello Maxwell,” Lanvar said. “Please state your position.”

“I am the main AI of the Callaway.”

“Please explain to the court the reckless disregard for the chain of command you witnessed in the behavior of Captain Jonathan Dallas. Start as early as you deem relevant.”

“It began after the Callaway was attacked in Vega 951,” Maxwell said. “We lost the comm nodes leading to Prius 3, and Contessa Gate as well, terminating our communications with NAVCENT. It was at that point Captain Dallas conspired with his second in command to usurp control of the fleet from the admiral, intending to replace him with Captain William Avis.”

Lanvar waited, as if expecting Maxwell to say more, but the Callaway’s AI was not forthcoming.

“Would you please describe the nature of the attackers who eliminated Contessa Gate and cut off Task Group 72.5 from communications with Navy Central Command,” Lanvar said. “Were they Sino-Korean warships, privateers, or...?”

“I am afraid the details are currently classified,” Maxwell said.

Lanvar glanced at the president of the court.

“The fleet is mobilizing,” Nefarian said. “Astronauts are being recalled to active duty. The details won’t remain classified for long. The officers present all have the necessary clearance. Witness is to answer relevant questions regardless of whether the answers contain classified information. When the trial concludes, we will redact the public record as necessary.”

“As you wish,” Maxwell replied. The members of the court listened with obvious interest as the Callaway’s AI continued. “At the time, we were uncertain whether the attackers were Sino-Korean or alien. Though since then, we have determined that without a doubt the aggressors were indeed alien.”

“But at the time Captain Dallas attempted the vote of no confidence, the fleet was still uncertain?” Lanvar asked.

“We were. Though Dallas was convinced they were alien.”

“How did he come to that conclusion?” the judge advocate pressed.

“I believe it was instinct. The ship designs were like nothing the United Systems had ever encountered before. And the Sino-Koreans don’t possess particle beam weapons. It was logical to conclude that the attackers were alien.”

“But the admiral didn’t see it that way?”

“No,” Maxwell said. “The admiral believed we were facing an advance party of Sino-Koreans that had been sent to stop us from achieving our mission.”

“You mentioned that Captain Dallas wished to usurp control of the fleet from the admiral,” Lanvar said. “Placing Captain William Avis in charge.”

“I did, yes,” Maxwell said.

“Dallas didn’t want command of the fleet for himself?”

“No,” Maxwell said.

“What did Captain Dallas have to gain by replacing the admiral by Avis?”

“Shortly before we lost communications with NAVCENT, the admiral received an order to proceed with the classified mission assigned to Task Group 72.5,” Maxwell explained. “However, Dallas believed the order was issued in error. Since the fleet could no longer communicate with NAVCENT, there was no way to confirm the order, as protocol dictated for a mission of such magnitude. Because of that, and because of the grave nature of said order, Captain Dallas attempted to subvert the authority of the admiral.”

Lanvar paced for a moment. “Did Captain Dallas like the admiral?”

“No,” Maxwell replied. “On several occasions he expressed his distaste for the man.”

“We have one particularly relevant expression of distaste on video,” Lanvar said, turning toward Nefarian. “I would like to submit the following archival log as evidence to the court.”

A holographic video appeared above the witness stand. It depicted Jonathan in his office aboard the Callaway, with Robert seated across from him.

“We have three days to take that scheming bastard of an admiral down,” Jonathan’s image said.

“You know,” Robert responded. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe you were following some sort of personal vendetta against the man.”

Jonathan wished he had been more selective when he had backed up those files, but that would be omitting the truth: something he was morally incapable of.

I’m here to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and that’s precisely what I’m going to do.

The image winked out. “As the court can see, even the captain’s own first officer believed Dallas was following a personal vendetta.”

There were more questions, but Jonathan found himself tuning out.

I’m doomed.

Finally Lanvar announced: “I have no more questions.”

Nefarian glanced at McAvoy: “Your witness.”

three

Jonathan watched the defense counsel stand beside him.

“First of all,” McAvoy said. “I would like to remind the court that the mission order was indeed retracted shortly after NAVCENT had issued the original go-ahead. Precisely as Captain Jonathan Dallas had guessed at the time. You can find it in the unclassified portions of the log. Therefore we can hardly accuse him—”

“Objection!” Lanvar jumped to his feet. “That information is irrelevant. Without communications, the admiral had no way of knowing the mission was repealed. Just because the captain’s unwarranted speculation was proven right does not mean he was correct in his actions.”

“Sustained,” Navarian said. “Statement will be stricken from the record.”

McAvoy seemed unaffected, and continued as though nothing had happened. “Maxwell, can you provide details of the mission assigned to Task Group 72.5? What was it about the order received from NAVCENT that stirred so much doubt in the mind of Captain Dallas?” 

“Objection,” Lanvar said. “The mission details are irrelevant. We all know that orders, when received, must be obeyed. Besides, those details are classified. How much information does the court want to redact when this trial is over?”

“How pertinent are the mission details to the case?” Captain Nefarian asked McAvoy from the bench.

“Very pertinent, I believe,” McAvoy said. “I am trying to prove that Captain Dallas could not morally agree to the order, and that no captain with a conscience would.”

“Very well,” Captain Nefarian said. “Objection overruled. Witness is to proceed with the mission details.”

The witness glanced uncertainly at Jonathan, then said: “Task Group 72.5 escorted a geronium class 5A multi-warhead crust injection bomb into Vega 951. A planet killer.” Surprised looks were exchanged by members of the court. “The weapon was incorporated within an AI-manned destroyer class vessel to avoid alerting any Sino-Korean moles. The senior command ordered 72.5 to Vega 951 as a safeguard against rapidly deteriorating relations between the United Systems and the Sino-Koreans, under the guise of a research mission.”

“Why Vega 951?” McAvoy said. “It’s on the outskirts of United Systems space. And nowhere near any Sino-Korean systems. What’s so special about it?”

“Vega 951 contains two additional Slipstreams, in addition to the one leading to Prius 3,” Maxwell said. “2-Vega leads to a system containing an uncharted brown dwarf about forty-eight lightyears coreward, deeper into what we now believe is alien territory. 3-Vega, meanwhile, loops back into human territory, opening into Sino-Korean space. Specifically the Tau Ceti system. Or, more precisely, inside her sun.”

McAvoy raised an eyebrow for dramatic effect. “The middle of a star?”

“That is correct. Task Group 72.5 was sent to Vega 951 to act as a reserve strike team, ready to deploy the bomb through the Slipstream and into the Tau Ceti star, at which point it would cause a runaway nuclear reaction, rapidly depleting the hydrogen in the core, causing gravitational collapse and triggering a type IIn supernova with an energy release upward of five foe, or five times ten to the fifty-one ergs—essentially a hypernova. It would have destroyed the entire system.”

“Can you tell the court the strategic importance of the Tau Ceti system?” McAvoy asked. “And to clarify, this isn’t the United Systems Tau Ceti located eleven lightyears from Earth...” A hypernova of that magnitude would fry the Earth in eleven years.

“No, this is the Tau Ceti nestled deep in Sino-Korean territory,” Maxwell said. “In the heart of their geronium manufacturing zone. By destroying the system, the United Systems would drastically reduce the supply of geronium to the Sino-Koreans, essentially cutting off the fuel supply of their Navy.”

“How many human beings live in Tau Ceti?” McAvoy said.

“Approximately a hundred million Sino-Koreans,” Maxwell answered.

“A hundred million human beings,” McAvoy said. “And before the fleet lost communications with NAVCENT, the admiral received an order to deploy the planet killer into the star?”

“He did,” Maxwell said.

“Interesting,” McAvoy said. “So the admiral had been ordered to destroy a hundred million innocent human lives.”

“Objection,” Lanvar said. “The projected casualty count has no bearing on one’s obligation to proceed with a mission. Innocents die in wars. This is a known, though regrettable, fact.”

“I would argue that in this case it has all the bearing in the world,” McAvoy said, glancing at the officers arrayed in a semicircle behind the bench. “Which of you would agree to an order that could lead to the loss of a hundred million other humans? Not many, I would suspect.”

“Objection overruled,” Nefarian said. “The statement has bearing due to the magnitude of the consequences.”

“Thank you,” McAvoy said. “No further questions.”

Lanvar walked forward. “I would like to question the witness again.”

“Proceed,” Captain Nefarian said.

“Maxwell,” Lanvar said. “At the time the fleet received the order to proceed, tensions were running particularly high between the Sino-Koreans and the United Systems, were they not? The last you had heard, a rogue faction had successfully seized control of Aurora Prime, the seat of Sino-Korean government, and hijacked an SK supercarrier harboring a planet killer.”

“This is true,” Maxwell agreed.

“It seemed apparent the Sino-Korean government was unstable?” Lanvar said.

“Yes,” Maxwell said.

“So none of you had any reason to doubt the authenticity of the order?” Lanvar asked.

“None whatsoever.”

“And yet Captain Dallas questioned the order nonetheless.”

“It is standard protocol to confirm an order of such magnitude,” Maxwell said.

“And yet you could not, because you had lost communications,” Lanvar said.

“Also correct.”

“So Captain Jonathan Dallas was effectively exhibiting mutinous behavior? Which was why the admiral had him arrested for mutiny at the time.”

“Objection!” McAvoy said. “My client is not on trial for mutiny.”

“Sustained,” Nefarian said. “Please refrain from using the word mutiny in any context while questioning the witness.”

“My apologies,” Lanvar said. “Maxwell, Captain Dallas was exhibiting behaviors that were prejudicial to good order and discipline, and harmful to the chain of command, without proper authority?”

“He was,” Maxwell said.

“Shouldn’t Captain Dallas have been preparing for the battle rather than plotting to replace the admiral?” Lanvar said.

“Repair swarms fixed the damage from our previous battle, but otherwise there was nothing to prepare for. The admiral had a complete battle plan already drawn up.”

“But Captain Dallas could have provided some feedback on that plan, couldn’t he?” Lanvar pressed.

“The admiral hadn’t shared it in its entirety.... he intended to present his plans to the captains all at once, at a conference a few days before battle.”

“But Jonathan could have given him advice anyway. He is supposed to be a skilled tactician.”

“That is true,” Maxwell said.

“And yet he did not.”

“No,” Maxwell replied.

“When Captain Dallas was placed in the brig by Admiral Knox for his actions, the admiral assigned a new captain in his place: Commander Scott from the Hurricane. According to the logs, Captain Scott froze up during a later battle, forcing Commander Cray to relieve him. We won’t get into whether or not Cray’s actions were justified, since Cray isn’t on trial here today—though I’m certain he will be at some point. In any case, one could readily conclude that Captain Dallas’ arrest allowed a lesser man to take command, thereby endangering the fleet. Correct?”

“That could be inferred, yes,” Maxwell said.

“No further questions,” Lanvar said.

McAvoy had no more questions either, so Lanvar called for Rodriguez next.

A hologram of the captain materialized in the witness box. The olive-skinned, baby-faced Rodriguez looked tired, his eyes puffy as if he hadn’t slept in days. His fatigues were pristine as always, of course, and almost seemed incongruous when matched to that face. It could have been an illusion of the virtual reality. In fact, it probably was.

Rodriguez proceeded to explain how Jonathan’s executive officer Robert Cray had reached out to the other captains, and attempted to sway them to Jonathan’s way of thinking.

“I was sold,” Rodriguez said. “And I planned to support Captain Dallas in his vote of no confidence, but I withdrew my support at the last moment when it became obvious Admiral Knox knew of the captain’s intentions. The admiral threatened to arrest those of us who threw their support behind Dallas, so we all kept quiet while Dallas, the only real man among us, stood up against Knox.” 

“So in his private communications, Commander Cray actually told you Captain Dallas was planning a vote of no confidence?” Lanvar asked.

“No,” Rodriguez said. “At no point did Cray ever mention a vote of no confidence. It was all indirect. Implied. But I understood what he was getting at well enough.”

“That is interesting,” Lanvar said, turning toward the seven officers behind the bench. “I’d like to submit another item from the Callaway’s video archives as evidence.”

Once more a holographic video image of Jonathan’s office appeared, showing him and Robert seated across from each other.

“Send out general feeler messages to the captains,” Jonathan’s image said. “Don’t mention anything about replacing the admiral. Instead, tell them everything we know about the aliens. Whatever you do, don’t ever broach the subject of a vote of no confidence directly. Unless you want to be arrested for sedition.”

The video feed winked out.

“Objection,” McAvoy said. “Commander Cray isn’t the one on trial. I respectfully request that the video be struck from the evidence.”

“I only meant to illustrate how Captain Dallas illicitly utilized his crew in his attempt to subvert the admiral,” Lanvar said.

“Objection sustained,” Nefarian said. “The officers of the crew were following orders, and they are not the ones on trial. The video will be struck from the evidence.”

“I’d like to say something,” Rodriguez announced.

“Go ahead,” Nefarian said.

“Jonathan was correct to stand up against the admiral,” Rodriguez said. “It was wrong of Knox to risk our whole fleet single-mindedly in pursuit of the mission like that. The morals question was one thing, but having us split up our fleet, reducing our numbers so that the enemy could pick us off? It’s Knox’s fault that we almost lost all of Task Group 72.5 in the following battle. It was only because of the quick thinking on Cray’s part that any of us returned home alive.”

“How was the admiral’s flagship lost in the battle?” Lanvar said.

“She was cut in half by one of the enemy capital ships,” Rodriguez answered.

“And the destroyer that contained the planet killer?”

“The robots manning the vessel detonated it to prevent the bomb from falling into enemy hands,” Rodriguez said. “Taking down the closest members of the enemy fleet.”

“How many of them, roughly?” Lanvar asked.

“I’d say, about three-quarters,” Rodriguez replied.

“Three-quarters?” Lanvar exclaimed. “But you just said that it was the quick thinking on Cray’s part that saved the fleet. It sounds like the detonation of the planet killer saved you.”

“It was Cray who saved us from the last quarter of the enemy,” Rodriguez said.

“And not Jonathan,” Lanvar said.

“How could it have been Jonathan?” Rodriguez said. “He was in the brig at the time. But Jonathan, he proved his worth in later battles don’t you worry. Why don’t you show the court what he did in the Elder galaxy? How he defeated thirty pursuing alien ships by drawing them into the orbit of a binary star?”

“Because what Jonathan did after his disobedient actions has no bearing on the court’s decision,” Lanvar said. “No further questions.”

McAvoy rose. “The defense has no questions.”

The seven officers all glanced at the defense counsel.

Nefarian said: “Does the defense plan to recall the witness at a later date?”

“No,” McAvoy said.

What? Jonathan sent the man via the text message feature of his aReal glasses. Why?

I don’t want him to say anything that could further incriminate you, his legal counsel responded. He means well, but he could very easily paint you into a corner. He’s done enough. Let him go.

“The court wishes to question the witness, then,” Nefarian said. “Rodriguez, how is your working relationship with Captain Dallas?”

“We have a good working relationship,” Rodriguez said.

“Would you consider yourself friends?”

“I would.”

“That factored into your decision to support his vote of no confidence?”

“It did,” Rodriguez said. “But I would have supported it even if we weren’t on good terms. Aliens were attacking us, and the admiral was too busy trying to start a war with the Sino-Koreans to properly arrange a defense. If there was one time Article 1088 was applicable, it was then.”

“Thank you, captain,” Nefarian said. “No further questions.”

Lanvar summoned Rail to the stand next.

four

Jonathan bobbed his foot nervously, waiting for Rail to appear. She was certainly taking her time. His guilt or acquittal very likely depended on her testimony, so he wished she would hurry it up. The thought crossed his mind that she was purposely dragging it out, perhaps to watch him squirm.

Finally her hologram materialized, appearing much more well-rested than that of Rodriguez. She had cut her hair into a short bob whose bangs framed her attractive face.

She stared at Jonathan with a mean expression, that grumpy frown seeming deeper than ever.

After swearing her in, Lanvar said: “Tell us your former position in Task Group 72.5.”

“Captain of the Salvador,” she said, that scowl still directed at Jonathan. “Reporting directly to Admiral Knox.”

“Tell us—” Lanvar began.

She raised a hand. “I came here wanting to testify against Captain Dallas. No, not wanting... I was literally chomping at the bit. I was intent on seeing justice done for what happened to Admiral Knox. But I realized something on the journey home. Admiral Knox was not infallible. He could make mistakes. And he made a very big one. We should have never attempted to deploy that planet killer against the Sino-Koreans. It was all kinds of wrong.” Her features softened and Jonathan realized she was not scowling at him per se, but was perhaps angry at herself or what she had originally intended to say. “I’m glad NAVCENT vindicated Jonathan’s actions with their later communication repealing the order. I was angry at the time, because Jonathan had rebelled against the admiral before that communication was received, and that seemed very wrong to me. But in retrospect, he did the right thing.

“So I’m sorry, I can’t do what I came here to do. I can’t testify against Captain Dallas. Instead, I testify for him. He has done so much good for our former task group, taken the huge mess created by the admiral and made something good out of it, steadfastly leading the survivors of the fleet through situations that would have made a lesser man blanch. I certainly would have crumpled under all that pressure. The engagements we fought were highly pitched, with the odds stacked against us.

“But Jonathan Dallas stayed true to the course and got us home. Some of us, anyway, with the rest due to arrive in five to six months. And he secured an alliance with an alien race in the process. He is a good man, with high morals, and a skilled negotiator and tactician to boot. It would be a shame for the navy to lose him. That’s all I have to say.”

Jonathan stared at her wide-eyed. Was this the same Captain Rail he knew? Or had someone hijacked her VR feed and sent a digital impostor in her place?

When she saw his incredulous gaze, her face hardened once more and she said: “Don’t think this means I’m going to go soft on you if we serve together again.”

Jonathan smiled inwardly. It was indeed her.

“Now Captain Rail, you can’t just—” Lanvar began.

“That’s all I have to say,” Rail said. “You have my deposition. Thank you.”

Her hologram vanished.

Can she actually do that? Jonathan texted McAvoy.

The judge advocate could issue a court order forcing her to return at some point, McAvoy replied. But that would serve only to delay the trial. Even if she returns, she isn’t compelled to answer questions.

Couldn’t she be tried for refusing to testify?

She could. But I doubt Lanvar would take it that far. Her testimony isn’t that important to the case. He has everything he needs with the memory dumps from the Callaway’s AI core.

Only one other captain from Task Group 72.5 had returned with them: Sil Chopra. But she wasn’t present during the vote of no confidence, so it was doubtful she would be called to testify. McAvoy certainly had no intention of calling her to the stand.

“I have no more witnesses,” Lanvar said, as expected.

McAvoy arose.

“Captain Jonathan Dallas,” the defense counsel said. “Please take the stand.”

Jonathan accessed the navigation menu of his aReal and chose the teleportation feature, as there wasn’t enough space in his cell for him to simply walk to the stand, as he might collide with something along the way, such as the prison bars. He placed the resultant cross-hairs over the witness stand and engaged, instantaneously transferring his avatar to the raised platform.

“Captain Jonathan Dallas,” McAvoy said. “Of the USS Callaway. Tell us in your own words why you chose to call for a vote of no confidence against Admiral Hartford Knox.”

“A hundred million human lives were at stake,” Jonathan said. “Not to mention the fragile peace between the Sino-Koreans and the United Systems. I couldn’t allow the deployment of the planet killer to proceed. Not when a new alien war seemed imminent.”

“A new alien war,” McAvoy said. “So you were convinced the attackers were alien, as Maxwell said?”

“I was,” Jonathan said. “I believed from the start that they were. By deploying the planet killer into the Tau Ceti star, the United Systems would have placed itself into a war against two fronts, one versus the aliens, the other the Sino-Koreans.”

“And your actions would have prevented that?” McAvoy said.

“They would have,” Jonathan said. “If I had succeeded. Though when the aliens forced us to detonate the planet killer, they spared us from that fate anyway.”

“Your witness,” McAvoy told Lanvar.

Lanvar stepped forward. “Captain Dallas, do you consider yourself a man of high morals?”

“I do,” Jonathan answered.

“Are those morals superior to the beliefs of everyone else?” Lanvar said. “Specifically, the officers you serve under?”

“Objection,” McAvoy said. “Badgering the witness.”

“Question withdrawn,” Lanvar said. “Tell me something, Captain Dallas. If the order had not been rescinded by NAVCENT, and you remained in full communication with Navy Central Command the entire time, would you have proceeded?”

“Objection,” McAvoy said. “Speculative scenario.”

“Overruled,” Nefarian said. “Answer the question, Captain Dallas,”

Jonathan hesitated. Nothing but the truth... “I would have disobeyed. We couldn’t afford to divide humanity, not  at a time like that, with aliens in pursuit.”

“And if there had been no aliens? And the order had still come?”

Jonathan glanced at McAvoy.

“Objection,” McAvoy said. “Speculation. We know for a fact that aliens pursued the fleet.”

“But Jonathan didn’t know it at the time,” Lanvar said. “Not for certain. He suspected, and says he was convinced, but there is always a margin for doubt. I’m trying to establish that Jonathan would have disobeyed the order regardless of whether the fleet was harried by Sino-Koreans or aliens.”

“Overruled,” Nefarian said. “Please answer, Captain Dallas.”

Jonathan sighed. “I would have disobeyed. There’s nothing that can justify the death of a hundred million human beings. Nothing.”

“Thank you,” Lanvar said. “No further questions.”

“The court does not wish to cross-examine the witness.” Nefarian gestured toward the desk of the defense. “You may return to your seat.”

Jonathan teleported to the desk and sat down.

Well, that went well, he sent McAvoy.

You’re the only one I know who can convey sarcasm so well through text, the defense counsel replied.

“The court will now hear the closing arguments,” Captain Nefarian said.

Already? Jonathan texted McAvoy.

Yes, McAvoy replied. Welcome to the assembly line nature of the modern-day military court, where thoroughness and diligence are sacrificed in the name of efficiency.

In Lanvar’s closing argument, the judge advocate once more ranted on about the sanctity of the chain of command. “What has the defense proved, other than Admiral Knox had poor judgment? Did that give Captain Dallas the right to attempt his coup? Can this court dare set such a dangerous precedent, whereby an admiral, an admiral, can nearly be deposed by his subordinates simply because he seems to be making errors in judgment? How can we condone such a reckless disregard for the chain of command?

“Captain Dallas should have been focusing on the coming battle, not plotting to overthrow the admiral. His reckless actions endangered the whole fleet, and Admiral Knox was well within his rights to have Captain Dallas arrested. It will be a sad miscarriage of justice if we do not see through the original charges levied against the captain by the admiral.

“Remember well the testimony Captain Dallas has given. In Captain Dallas’ own words, he would have attempted his unruly revolt regardless of whether or not there was a repeal of the order. Even if there were no aliens, and communications were intact, and the mission remained a go, he would have disobeyed a direct order from Navy Central Command. And now he has the gall, the sheer gall, to stand before us in the hope that we will set him free. Do not set this precedent, officers of the navy. Do not. You serve only to open the floodgates for mutiny.”

McAvoy made his closing argument next.

“A hundred million human lives,” McAvoy said. “Civilians, mostly. Engineers. Colonists. Government workers. Every last inhabitant of the Tau Ceti system. The United Systems would have been responsible for perpetrating a war crime if that planet killer had been deployed into the star. Not to mention a crime against nature. Destroying a star, and all the planets in her orbit... such a terrible act. But focusing on the war crime aspect alone: we’ve signed interstellar treaties protecting the rights of civilians. If we had lost the war with the Sino-Koreans that would have inevitably followed, the navy senior command would have been tried and convicted. And perhaps our own commander in chief. Jonathan’s actions spared the senior command from that fate, not to mention the economic ruin and loss of life that such a war would have brought to the United Systems. His trial here is needless, put into play purely by politics. Admiral Knox was a powerful man, with many friends higher up in the navy who are absolutely incensed by the failure of the mission, and looking for someone to blame. But that man is not Captain Dallas. He is a hero, and yet we treat him like a criminal.

“This navy has a history of imprisoning our best. We did it to Admiral Halfor seventy years ago. And we’re going to do it to Captain Jonathan Dallas today. Captain Rail told us something interesting. She said Captain Dallas led the survivors of the fleet through situations that would have made a lesser man blanch. After the admiral fell, Dallas carried the ships under his command through the next several battles. Highly pitched battles, with the odds stacked against them. In her words, the navy cannot afford to lose a man like him. And I agree. He has faced the enemy in the crucible of combat, and he knows how to defeat them. He has even secured an alliance with some of them, and fought aboard one of their vessels. Are we really going to discharge and imprison him? One of our best? Thank you.”

The court debated for the next thirty minutes. At which point Nefarian teleported Jonathan back from the virtual waiting room and announced his full acquittal.

five

The virtual world vanished and he was back in his cell. Just like that, the barred door opened. A processing robot waited outside, its face mostly featureless save for two eye sensors, its humanoid body all servomotors and polycarbonate.

“Follow me, Captain Dallas,” the robot said. It led the way, the hum of its electromagnetic motors preceding the clank of its heavy feet.

In the processing area, the robot gave Jonathan the fatigues he came in with and waited for him to change. When that was done, the robot handed him a small box containing the rest of his personal belongings.

“The security restraints have been lifted from your aReal,” the robot said. “Your previous access has been restored.”

The robot escorted him from the brig. Jonathan took the elevator to the main concourse of the station and stared at the automated kiosks and fast food outlets.

Free.

He almost couldn’t believe it.

The digital overlay of his aReal flashed with arrows and icons as the different storefronts vied for his attention at the popular port of call. He promptly disabled aReal interactions and the digital overlays vanished. The station seemed somehow dull and ordinary without them, yet it was far less cluttered. Exactly the way he preferred it.

In the lower right of his vision his inbox flashed. A new video message had arrived. He pulled it up.

The weathered features of Admiral Bhadger Raen appeared on his display; his wrinkles seemed deeper, and his grizzled hair possessed of more gray, than the last time Jonathan had spoken to the senior officer.

“Congratulations on your release, Jonathan,” Raen said. “I was gunning for the court to acquit you. But I have to admit, I was afraid Knox’s more powerful friends would prevail. I’m glad Captain Nefarian saw the truth: we don’t need a scapegoat. The only one responsible for the terrible casualties of Task Group 72.5 is Admiral Knox himself. It’s too bad you didn’t succeed in relieving him of command when you had the chance. We might still have that planet killer, not to mention all the ships that were lost.

“But what’s done is done I suppose. Anyway, you’re hereby granted seventy-two hours leave. Three standays from now, report to Vice Admiral Levieson for assignment. His ship, the Leviathan, is due to arrive tomorrow. War brews, Jonathan. The United Systems isn’t pleased by the incursion of these Raakarr into our space. The commander-in-chief and his advisers have cut a deal with the Zarafe faction. To be honest, I think we got the short end of it. I wish I was going with you, but I’m stuck on this damn shore billet. I’m going to need you to be my eyes and ears out there. Obey Levieson, and do your duty out there. Make sure the Zarafe don’t betray us. And make sure Levieson doesn’t either, for that matter. But most of all, try to get through the coming months alive. I have a feeling this war isn’t going to be the cakewalk our senior command and the Zarafe make it out to be.”

Not so free, then.

Jonathan found himself taking a drink in an officers bar, unsurprisingly empty at that time of day. He preferred it that way.

Unlike at an enlisted bar, the skin musicians weren’t set out on display for the clientele. Instead, Jonathan had to access the roster via his aReal. He cycled through the list until he found something close to what he was after. At this place, the pleasurers were made to order. After he selected his base model, he tweaked the on-screen sliders to adjust her look until he had precisely what he was looking for.

He finished his drink, got up from his bar stool, and proceeded toward the rear of the bar. A sultry Artificial let him into a back hallway, lit in pink neon, and guided him to one of the rooms. Jonathan went inside.

“Hello Jonathan,” the woman waiting on the bed said. “I’ve missed you.”

She looked almost exactly like Bridgette twenty years ago. Her body was in better shape, her eyes a little wider and more innocent, her hair a brighter shade, but otherwise it was her.

The next three days passed in a blur of male-female bonding: ravenous sex, deep conversation, fine dining, shared virtual experiences. At the end of it he wished the pleasurer farewell, along with most of his monthly salary. The Artificial shed tears when he departed so that he almost believed it was Bridgette, and that she loved him. Almost.

As soon as I’m gone the tears will stop and the Artificial will prepare itself for the next client.

Jonathan only wished that he could move on so easily.

six

Jonathan resided in the flag office of the Decatur-class supercarrier USS Leviathian, flagship of Battle Group 35.2. He perched across from Vice Admiral Levieson, who was seated behind a desk on the far side of the long, narrow compartment. There were other desks in the room, but those were currently empty. No items of any kind, personal or otherwise, were visible atop those desks—any accouterments would be virtual, seen by the owners via aReal only. If the sharing flags of such accouterments were enabled, he didn’t have the necessary access to see them.

Levieson appeared younger than his sixty-eight years. He had made ample use of rejuvenation treatments: his hair was jet black, and his skin, while leathery, was almost wrinkle-free. The low body fat percentage of his face sharpened his nose and cheeks, and slightly hollowed his eyes, giving him a haunted look. He did not wear aReal glasses, meaning he either used the contact lens or Implant variants. His body was lean, almost frail, beneath those prim fatigues. 

Shining with intelligence, and suppressed malevolence, those beady eyes focused on him. “Congratulations on your acquittal.”

“Thank you, vice admiral,” Jonathan said. “But we’ll see if it sticks when the reviewing authorities have their go.”

“It’ll stick,” Levieson said. “The navy wants to bury this incident under the rug and move forward as quickly as possible.”

“And you?”

Those eyes glinted with humor. “I’m of like mind. I trust your leave was... pleasant?” He said that last word in a knowing way. No doubt Levieson had checked Jonathan’s location history and knew precisely what the captain had been up to.

“Very much so,” Jonathan said.

“Good. We all need to destress from time to time, in our own unique manner.” The vice admiral folded his hands in his lap, then he raised a noise canceler about himself and the captain. Jonathan knew because of the icon that appeared in the upper left of his vision, courtesy of his aReal. It depicted a loudspeaker in profile, surrounded by a circle drawn with dashes.

A second notice appeared, flashing in the lower central part of his vision.

Classified conversation commencing.

He received a classified data download request, and accepted. Fresh files appeared in the encrypted database linked to his aReal.

Levieson continued. “To business: the United Systems hasn’t taken kindly to the incursion attempt perpetrated by the Raakarr into our space. As such, the Leviathan and her battle group are headed to Prius 3, where Battle Group 35.1 is four months from completing a Gate to Vega 951. Two more fleets will be joining us: Battle Group 34.1 and Task Group 72.4. When the Gate is finished, the combined fleet, sixty warships strong, will pass through the wormhole into Vega 951, while twenty members of 34.1 and 72.4 stay behind to guard the system from any penetration attacks while we’re in Raakarr space.

“In Vega 951 we expect to find the survivors of Task Group 72.5 waiting for us. They should have come back from the Elder galaxy by now, and are either constructing a return Gate to Prius 3, or hiding out from any enemy reinforcements in the system. We will proceed to another system two jumps from 951, and destroy a key Elk colony world in retaliation for their attacks.”

“Do we expect resistance in 951?” Jonathan said.

“If not in 951, then definitely in the adjacent systems,” Levieson replied. “Even so, we have Battle Group 35.1 on high alert, ready to engage should any enemy forces emerge before Gate completion. It’s a damn shame the Zarafe faction refuses to share the technology for Slipstream traversal with us. Would shave a year and a half off of our journey.”

Jonathan sat up, stunned. “Wait, what? Who the hell negotiated the peace treaty with the Zarafe? Sharing the traversal tech should have been a key tenet of the agreement.”

“Oh I agree absolutely,” Levieson said. “The initial agreement ironed out between the Zarafe and the United Systems included the sharing of that tech, but when the commander-in-chief’s advisers arrived to negotiate the final deal, the Zarafe managed to get that part stricken from the agreement. I guess, even if we had it, the tech wouldn’t have made much difference to our current mission anyway. According to the Zarafe, the technology would require a complete overhaul of our ships: we’d have to redesign and rebuild them from the ground up. Because of the sheer costs involved, we wouldn’t have more than two or three ready a year from now. But still, it’s too bad: it would have been nice to have a few of those Slipstream-capable ships under construction in the background, ready for service a year from now to augment our ranks. I’m guessing the Zarafe held back because we reneged on one of their key demands during the negotiations.”

“And what demand would that be?” Jonathan asked.

“The part about teaching them how to construct planet killers.”

Jonathan brightened. “We’re not giving the Zarafe planet killers?”

“That’s right,” the vice admiral said. “We’re bringing a planet killer to the Elk colony ourselves. Though I suppose in essence, it’s almost the same as giving it to them, since they’ve chosen the planet we’ll attack. But the bomb is under our control, in the end, to deploy or not deploy as we deem fit.”

“Wait... you say we’re bringing a planet killer? I thought the United Systems didn’t have any more of them? Unless we borrowed one from the Sino-Koreans...”

“We didn’t have to borrow anything from the Sino-Koreans,” the vice admiral said. “This mission is taking place without any Sino-Korean support whatsoever. And the rumors that our government lost its only planet killer during the Vega 951 mission are mostly true. Because we’ve only just completed our second. It’s harbored by the destroyer Dammerung, part of our battle group.”

“I see,” Jonathan said. “So tell me about this colony world we plan to destroy.” He was unable to hide the growing suspicion from his voice.

“According to the Zarafe, it’s the second most populous colony world of the Elk faction.”

“And we’re going to blast the place to hell as payback for their attack against our space,” Jonathan stated coldly.

Levieson shrugged. “We’re giving them a little taste of what’s going to happen to their homeworld if they keep up this aggressive posturing, yes.”

“You said the colony system is two jumps from Vega 951?”

“That’s right. We take the uncharted 2-Vega Slipstream in 951, spend six months building a Gate to the target system, and then jump through and destroy the colony on the other side. During those six months, we’ll probably have to fend off continual attacks against the Gate while its under construction.”

“Do we plan on building a return Gate to Vega 951 at the same time?” Jonathan said.

“It depends on the battle space,” Levieson said. “And on two questions: how quickly can we secure the system, and how much enemy resistance will we find ourselves up against after doing so? If the resistance proves minor, and we can afford to leave behind a battle unit to protect the return Gate, we’ll do so.”

“Haven’t the defectors shared details of what to expect in the various systems? Planetary defenses, enemy fleet deployments, etc?”

“They have,” Levieson said. “But you know as well as I that battle spaces change in realtime.”

“Anything else I should be aware of regarding this colony world?” Jonathan pulled up the classified data Levieson had shared with him regarding the planet as he spoke. It turned out to be an Earth-sized moon of an ice giant.

“The Zarafe say it’s a key world involved in the production of their starship fuel. By destroying that world, we’ll be dealing a severe blow to their space navy. Almost as bad as the blow we almost dealt to the Sino Koreans in Tau Ceti via the planet killer. The Zarafe leader, Valor, didn’t want to share what the Raakarr use for starship fuel, but we suspect it’s geronium, like our own. Once we blast away the crust from that planet, we plan to harvest as much as we can from the resultant debris.”

Jonathan studied the moon’s stats on his display.

“That seems a bit harsh,” Jonathan said. “According to the data you shared with me, no doubt obtained from the Zarafe faction, the Elk have over five million inhabitants on the colony.”

“So what?” Levieson sounded defensive, angry. “They attacked us first. We’re going to teach them an important lesson: you can’t attack human colonies like that. They’re lucky we’re not staging an assault against their homeworld, as we’ve done in the past to other alien aggressors. I’m sure you’ve read about the Second Alien War? We nuked the homeworld of the invading Mahasattva to hell. Look at how compliant they became afterward.”

“Yeah. If our homeworld was nuked, we’d be compliant as well.”

“My point exactly,” the vice admiral said. “We’re going to take away their fuel source, and if that doesn’t work and they persist in their aggressive actions, the Zarafe are going to regret the day they ever invaded the United Systems.”

“The mighty, vain, United Systems...” Jonathan said.

“Do you have a problem with the mission, Captain?” Levieson asked.

“Not at all,” Jonathan replied. “But you know, some would say we invaded them first. And that Vega 951 was actually their territory.”

“And those people would be wrong,” Levieson said. “There is a difference between unknowingly trespassing, and purposely invading.”

“But it depends on the interpretation,” Jonathan insisted. “Look at it from the alien perspective. We stumbled upon one of their nesting grounds. A place that is probably sacred to them. A place, at least in their culture, perhaps worthy of the deadly force they responded with.”

“Our Zarafe allies have told us all about these nesting grounds of theirs,” Levieson said frostily. “Apparently, Raakarr journey to the wreckages of Elder vessels to sire their offspring. Like salmon migrating from the ocean to spawn in the upper reaches of the natal river where they were born.”

“So you’re saying the Raakarr die after mating, then?” Jonathan asked. “Like the salmon?”

“No. Perhaps salmon was a bad example. The Raakarr live after they spawn. But anyway, they travel to specific sites in their territory in order to reproduce, including a particular city on their homeworld that harbors a chain of Elder wreckages. As for the crash site on Achilles I in Vega 951, those particular grounds are on the outskirts of Raakarr space, and rarely used. Apparently, the alien ships we encountered belonged to a couple of fringe nutjobs who wanted to rear their youth far from the influence of mainstream Raakarr society. Which would explain why Achilles I wasn’t properly guarded. If that was one of their official nesting grounds, trust me when I tell you that you would have encountered far more ships.”

“These fringe nutjobs, as you call them, were certainly able to call in a good bit of reinforcements,” Jonathan said.

“Apparently the Raakarr government, or rather the Elk faction that runs them, doesn’t take lightly to any trespassing by foreign powers into their territory. And that’s the key word, here. Trespass. That’s all we did. Not invade.”

“But again, I have to argue that it depends on the cultural interpretation,” Jonathan said. “And of course, all of this assumes that the Zarafe faction are telling the truth about Achilles I.”

“I trust them, at least in that regard.”

“And what about our translator? You trust him, too?”

“We have to,” Levieson said. “For the moment. But rest assured, we won’t have to rely on him forever. Bill Wethersfield, the Artificial liaison assigned to the Talon, is documenting the alien language. The Artificial has been recording the EM frequencies emitted by the Raakarr brains, and with Barrick’s help he’s been mapping the waveforms to different human words. It’s a slow, tedious process, but Wethersfield is making progress. The Artificial estimates that enough of the language will be recorded in three years to negate the need for the telepath.”

“Three years. This war might be long over by then.”

Levieson sat back and smiled. “I never took you for an optimist, Captain Dallas.”

“That wasn’t me being optimistic,” Jonathan said. “But what about the Elk faction? Won’t their language be different from that of the Zarafe aboard the Talon, at least subtly?”

“Oh it is,” Levieson agreed. “But Wethersfield is having Barrick teach him those variations, too.”

Jonathan folded his arms. “Or so Barrick says.”

“At some point, we have to trust those who work beneath us,” Levieson said.

“That’s hard for me, considering what he’s done,” Jonathan said.

Levieson nodded. “I’ve watched all the logs you brought back. Attempting to take control of your ship. Kidnapping the wife of your first officer in a bid to escape his resultant confinement. I can’t entirely blame you for not trusting him. But he has redeemed himself since then, at least somewhat, you have to admit.”

“I suppose so,” Jonathan said. “And you’re absolutely right, he’s all we have at the moment. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I have to tell you.” The vice admiral leaned forward conspiratorially. “Because of Barrick we’ve shored up the navy’s telepath policy.”

Jonathan felt one of his eyebrows arch. “Do tell.”

“We’ve implemented several updated safeguards for dealing with telepaths. We’ve released upgraded spacesuit specs, incorporating the psi shielding your chief scientist developed. Avengers and mechs have received similar specs detailing changes to their cockpits. All navy vessels are to incorporate the upgrades immediately. The bridges and CDCs of every warship are receiving similar shielding treatment.” CDC stood for Combat Direction Center.

“You’d think the thick radiation armor on the Callaway’s bridge would have been enough to stop someone like Barrick,” Jonathan said.

“The armor wasn’t designed to repel the long wavelengths of telepathy,” Levieson said. “We never thought it would have to.”

“Aren’t we missing out on the cheapest and most obvious solution at the moment?” Jonathan said. “Banning telepaths from serving aboard our vessels?”

“Telepaths are no longer allowed to serve aboard flagships,” Levieson said. “And a few of the more powerful telepaths have been reassigned to shore billets, just to be on the safe side.”

Jonathan frowned. “So you’re spending all this time and resources to add psi shielding to the bridge of the Leviathan, when we won’t be carrying a telepath aboard at all?”

“That’s correct,” the vice admiral said. “I’ve never been one to question the safety measures of the navy. In fact, I’ve already instructed the Leviathan’s captain to install shielding in the flag quarters, and this office, when the bridge work is complete. Never hurts to err on the side of caution. We’re future proofing the ships, here: I fully expect telepaths will be allowed to serve aboard flagships again at some point.” He sat up straighter. “Oh, and did I mention that all the Avenger fighters aboard the battle group ships are equipped with the charged fields pioneered by your very own Lieutenant Harv Boroker?” Harv was the Callaway’s chief weapons engineer, who had come up with a way to repel Raakaarr particle beams via charged fields. But because of power requirements of said fields, the innovation was restricted to fighter craft, and could not be generated around starships. The alien fighters didn’t possess any such defenses, not that they needed them: humanity didn’t have a single ship-ready particle beam weapon.

“Good to hear,” Jonathan said distractedly. He steepled his fingers. “Tell me, has NAVCENT put any consideration into the threat posed by the Elder?”

Levieson seemed puzzled. “Threat?”

“Their warning to pass judgment upon us, and to determine whether or not we are worthy of the planet killer. I thought you watched the archives I brought back?”

“Oh.” Levieson waved a dismissive hand. “Yes I have. I know all about that so-called warning, and so does NAVCENT. It doesn’t factor into our strategies whatsoever. The warning is too vague to mean anything. It’s one of those things, you know, damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Besides, the Elder reside in another galaxy. It’s hard to take a threat from them seriously.”

“But you should take it seriously. They can very easily travel here by editing the endpoints of their Slipstreams.”

“You really think they would destroy our entire race?” Levieson said. “If they found us unworthy?”

“Barrick said they’d knock us back to the dark ages at the very least. If they didn’t obliterate us entirely. And they gave the same warning to the Raakarr, apparently. I guess they don’t want the Raakarr getting their hands on a planet killer.”

“But given the vague wording of the warning, that could be precisely what they want,” Levieson said. “We have no idea if these Elder are belligerent, or peaceful, given what little you learned from them in your last encounter.” Levieson scratched his right eyelid. “Well, either way, I’m sure the combined weapons capabilities of the fleet could readily eliminate any Elder ship that ever decided to present itself.”

“Really?” Jonathan said. “And how did you arrive at that conclusion? We never saw it fire a weapon. Not once. But we can guess, given the advanced propulsion system the ship had, that its weapons are going to be at least as advanced.”

“I have faith in human ingenuity,” Levieson said. “If the Elder ever attack, we will prevail. But this is all pointless conjecture at this point, anyway. As I said, the warning wasn’t specific enough. The Elder didn’t outline the scenarios that would make us ‘worthy’ of the planet killer. We can’t assume anything at this point. So we’re not going to.”

Jonathan sighed, then he placed his hands on the armrests. “So what’s my role in all of this?”

“You’ll be joining Wethersfield and Barrick aboard the Talon, which will serve under my command in the battle group. You’ll function as chief liaison officer, acting as my goto between the Zarafe and the rest of the battle group. Valor must obey my orders, which you will relay to him via the telepath, Barrick. I’m effectively putting you in command of the Talon.”

Jonathan wasn’t looking forward to spending the next few months cooped up aboard that alien vessel, even if he was essentially in command.

Apparently Levieson sensed the captain’s disappointment, because he said: “I have nowhere else to put you. There’s no other ship I can give you, and the personnel bureau doesn’t want to touch your file while the reviewing authorities consider the results of the trial. If it’s any consolation, when we rendezvous with Task Group 72.5, I’ll consider reassigning you to your old ship.” When Jonathan didn’t answer, Levieson added: “Look. I need someone I can trust aboard the Talon. Preferably someone human. Not that I’m biased toward AIs like Wethersfield... all right, I admit it, I am. I’ve read your video logs, watched footage of the battles you fought while aboard their bridge. You’re the obvious choice for this. And Valor seems to like you.”

“I’m not sure I’d go so far as that,” Jonathan said.

“Well, he tolerates you at the least,” Levieson said. “And he’s followed your suggestions in the past, in the middle of space combat, when he didn’t have to. So he respects you, too.”

Jonathan rubbed his chin. “Barrick and Wethersfield must obey my orders as well?”

“To the letter.”

Jonathan nodded slowly. “What happens to Rodriguez, Rail, and Chopra?”

“Captain Chopra has been assigned the command of the Stalwart, a corvette in our battle group. She’ll be joining us on the mission. Captains Rail and Rodriguez are also coming, though they won’t be serving in any command capacity, not yet. When we rejoin Task Group 72.5 in Vega 951, the plan is to give them their commands back.”

“Assuming the task group hasn’t been destroyed by Raakarr reinforcements in the system...” Jonathan said.

“Come now Captain,” Levieson said. “Where’s your faith? You forget all those glowing reports you gave your first officer, the man you left in charge of Task Group 72.5. What was his name? Cray.”

“Even he won’t be able to do anything if he’s outnumbered ten to one,” Jonathan replied.

Levieson crossed his arms as if suppressing a sudden chill. “Did you know, we sent a task group—12.5.2—to Vega 951 to look for the planet killer when we lost contact with 72.5? We also sent a Builder with it, in case 12.5.2 needed to construct a return Gate. The United Systems wasn’t going to leave a planet killer abandoned like that.”

“The Talon saw no sign of 12.5.2,” Jonathan said.

“I know,” Levieson said. “That’s why I’m telling you this. Because you may be right, there might be nothing left of 72.5 to rendezvous with.”

“You think the Raakarr destroyed 12.5.2?”

“That would be the obvious conclusion,” Levieson said.

“But the Talon witnessed no debris in Vega 951 consistent with the task group. Sure, three enemy ships emerged from behind a nearby planetoid before we fled to Prius 3, but there was nothing more.”

“It’s possible they swept up any debris and hid it behind the planetoid as well. Either that, or they captured the ships and took them elsewhere. Chalk it up to Raakarr aggression. That’s another reason we need to give these aliens a thoroughly bloody nose.”

“Can’t we do that without harming civilians?”

“They’ve already destroyed two of our colony worlds. We’re going to obliterate at least one of theirs in retaliation.”

“Can’t we choose a colony with a lower population? One that more closely matches the populations of the worlds we lost?”

Levieson smiled patiently. “You have to measure more than the cost of the human lives. Don’t forget the infrastructure cost necessary to create the colonies in the first place: the terraforming cost, the building and materials costs, and so forth. That said, we are willing to negotiate with the Raakarr. We’ll use our newfound allies to do so. And if the Raakarr refuse to negotiate, we’ll fight our way to the colony world and destroy it, as planned. NAVCENT has already approved the order.”

The order.

Jonathan thought back to his trial. He had won mostly because of the feelings of guilt his legal counsel had evoked in the members of the court. One hundred million human lives. How could those officers of the bench condone punishment against a captain who had refused to obey the order that would have caused such death, rendering an entire solar system uninhabitable, his lawyer had argued, when they themselves would have disobeyed? It was easy to feel that way in the moment. Of course it was an outrage, such loss of life, such stripping of a habitable system of its star. But the officers must have realized, deep down, that if actually faced with a similar moral dilemma, the pressure to obey orders, however morally reprehensible, would be immense. And they could not really know whether they would obey or disobey in that moment.

One hundred million human lives. The key word being human. The trial likely would have had a completely different outcome if it had been alien lives at stake. The loyalty one felt for one’s own race didn’t extend far beyond the species boundary.

“Think of what the Raakarr have done,” Levieson pressed. “Think of the colonies we’ve lost. We have to make an example of that alien world. We have to show them we won’t stand for aggression of any kind against our planets. But, if you truly don’t want to participate in this mission, I’ll write you a transfer request and have it sent to the Bureau of Personal ASAP. I’m sure Admiral Raen can find some work for you in his shore billet.”

At the end of the day, those lives were alien. At some point, humanity had to look out for its best interests. Levieson was right. While the figure might seem like a lot when taken on its own, five million alien lives were a drop in the bucket. Still, if Jonathan ever rendezvoused with Task Group 72.5 and returned to the Callaway, he would no doubt have many long discussions with Robert regarding the morality of it all.

“That won’t be necessary,” Jonathan said. “When do we leave?”

seven

Rade sat on the bunk of his cramped quarters aboard the Leviathan. His daughter perched in front of him, on a seat of soft leather that seemed out of place beside the flat-backed steel chair native to the room.

“Congratulations on your new command assignment,” Rade said. “The Stalwart is lucky to have you as its captain.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Sil replied. “And honestly, I would have preferred a research vessel to a corvette. War isn’t my preferred arena.”

“We’re going to need our best for the upcoming conflict,” Rade said. “That’s why they chose you.”

“Sure,” she said. “I suppose.”

In truth, Rade wasn’t all that pleased she had been assigned to the battle group. He would have preferred she stayed behind, safe in the heart of human space, than heading to the outskirt systems to attack the aliens. Then again, he supposed at least now he’d be able to keep an eye on her. Somewhat. That would be a little difficult, seeing as how she was on a different ship and all. But at least any messages he sent would be delivered to her instantaneously, and he could have realtime talks with her like he was doing right now, whenever he wanted. Assuming she picked up.

“Do you ever think about the old days?” she asked.

“What do you mean? The old days of the navy?”

“No, not that,” she said. “I’m talking after. When you owned that crummy ship. I remember growing up in space, traveling around the galaxy with that motley crew of ex-MOTHs.”

“Ah. Those were good days, weren’t they?”

“Dad, those were some of the best days of my life,” Sil said.

Rade stared at her for several moments, then averted his gaze. “Mine, too,” he said softly.

“Not that I still don’t have amazing days, mind you,” Sil added.

“Of course,” Rade said. He had to wonder if the same was true for himself.

“I’m still not sure how mom put up with all that testosterone aboard,” Sil said. “I suppose I helped. And Surus. How many other mercenary ships could claim an alien as part of their crew?”

Rade smiled. “Not many. And for the last time, we weren’t mercenaries, we were security consultants.”

She crossed her arms. “You and your euphemisms.”

Rade shrugged.

“You never did tell me why you re-enlisted after all those years away...” Sil said.

“You haven’t figured it out by now?” Rade asked her.

She frowned. “No. How the hell am I supposed to know what goes on in that jacked mind of yours?”

“I am a mystery, aren’t I?” Rade said.

The hatch to the berthing area opened. His bunkmate, Helium, stepped inside, fresh from a workout session and shower. He nodded at Rade as he crossed the deck, and passed right through Sil’s hologram. Helium couldn’t hear or see her, but since Rade didn’t want the LPO eavesdropping on what he himself said, he activated his noise canceler.

“So come on, tell me,” Sil persisted.

“All right,” Rade said. “I fess up. I re-enlisted because of you.”

“Me.”

He sighed. “When you said you were signing up, I couldn’t let you do it alone.”

“That makes no sense,” Sil said. “You knew the chances of being assigned to the same ship as mine were basically nil, right?”

“I did,” Rade replied.

“And yet you re-enlisted anyway.”

He nodded. I would do anything to watch over my little girl.

“You pulled some strings to ensure you were part of the same fleet, didn’t you?” Sil said.

“A few,” Rade agreed.

“I’m not sure whether to feel suffocated or blessed,” Sil told him.

“Probably a little of both,” Rade said. “Though when you’ve felt suffocated in the past, you never had a problem letting me know.”

“That’s very true,” Sil said. “You’ve always given me my space.”

“And I always will.” Just as I’ll always be here for you.

“Well, I should be going,” Sil said. “I still have to review the morning updates from my department heads. Then I have to check in with the bridge crew. Then I have to— well, I won’t bore you with the details. But let’s just say, a captain never has to try terribly hard to keep busy.”

“You really should look into offloading some of the more menial stuff onto your XO,” Rade said.

“This is a United Systems Starship,” Sil said. “We run things a bit differently than a privately owned mercenary craft. My mistake, security consulting craft.”

“Thank you,” Rade said.

“Besides, let my XO have all the fun?” Sil said. “You have to be kidding me. Anyway, later dad.”

“Bye, Sil.” He disconnected and her hologram vanished, seat and all. He rubbed his eyes and then stood.

Helium looked up from his bunk. “Yo.”

“Hey,” Rade replied.

Helium nodded toward Rade’s bare chest. “Looking massive today.”

Rade glanced down. His chest was looking particularly big, at that. Sil hadn’t realized he was shirtless, of course, because he had programmed a long-sleeved getup into the holographic feed.

“Thanks,” Rade replied. “It’s all about the little ‘extra’ I add to my diet.”

“I’m sure it is,” Helium said. “Horse hormones, right?”

“Basically,” Rade said. “Fleet-approved, of course.”

“Of course,” Helium said. “By the way, you might want to wander by hangar bay 8.”

“Why?” Rade said.

“They’ve got some toys worth checking out.”

Rade pursed his lips, and then grabbed a T shirt from his locker. The fabric snagged at the hardpoints protruding from his wrists, elbows and shoulders, but with some persistence he got the shirt on.

He left the cramped berthing area and took to the passageways. With the help of his overhead map, he navigated the hatches and scuttles and made his way to the appropriate deck.

His talk with Sil had stirred up some memories, some good, some bad. On the way to the hangar bay he pulled up the letter of reprimand assigned to his file and reread it for the thousandth time. That letter prevented him from ever advancing above the rank of chief.

Not that it mattered all that much. He preferred his position. He had seen so many changes, watched as the MOTHs were slowly replaced by AIs. The combat robots that passed MOTH training were just as good as humans, he had to admit. Even better in some ways. They didn’t have bothersome emotions that got in the way of obeying orders, for example. If an AI experienced guilt, remorse or other issues, a simple tweak to its conscience program fixed it good as new.

Still, he missed the camaraderie of the old Teams. AIs had their own camaraderie, sure, but it was a different kind, more... subdued. Not like the friendly competition and macho teasing he and his old platoon members used to routinely engage in. 

Re-enlisting all those years ago hadn’t been easy. Sil had no idea what he had to do to return. Mental and physical factors aside, there was also the small problem posed by that reprimand letter. Even though he wasn’t dishonorably discharged, he still had to call in a favor from an old friend, then a Command Master Chief, for the privilege.

He reached the hangar bay. A friendly space deck officer greeted him, and told him to head on in. There was a knowing glint in the officer’s eyes.

What Rade saw inside that hangar bay made all the long, difficult years since returning to the navy worth it.

Before him towered six shiny mechs. His Implant told him the units belonged to the Knight class. Model 5D. Produced by Nova Dynamics. Four meters tall. Three meters wide. Roughly shaped like a man.

Twin missile launchers, one on each shoulder, contained five Hellfire H-9B minis each. A wicked-looking Cobra CU-2 was mounted on each forearm. Each CU-2 had two swivel-capable turrets, so that the Knight could deliver a quadruple punch to four tangos at the same time.

The Knight 5D also had the usual Lighter and Trench Coat countermeasures. It had jumpjets, too. There was no arm-mounted ballistic shield—the hull itself contained built-in laser- and projectile-rated armor trauma plates.

Rade eagerly downloaded the operating characteristics to his Implant.

He knew where he’d be spending his next several weeks aboard: in the combat simulator.

eight

Jonathan stood within the elongated spherical shape that formed the relatively cramped bridge of the Talon, the Raakarr vessel containing the crew of Zarafe defectors. There were some Elk members aboard, though these were confined to the alien equivalent of a brig. Jonathan had heard stories that Valor, the Zarafe leader, had donated some live Elk specimens to the United Systems for study. He had no reason to disbelieve those rumors: the Zarafe hated the Elk with a passion. According to Barrick, the only physical difference between the two factions were the bony plates that framed the upper parts of their eyes, plates that were missing from the Zarafe. The Elk also had slightly shorter necks. To infiltrate the Elk, those Zarafe who served aboard the Talon had incorporated the bony eye plates into their genome via gene-therapy; as for the neck size differences, Jonathan supposed they simply slouched.

Jonathan wore a spacesuit, as the alien air proved utterly unsuitable to human beings. That suit also incorporated psi-shielding elements to protect him from any telepathic attacks Barrick or the aliens might attempt.

Within the thick yellow mist of that atmosphere, at the center of the compartment, lay a pit, inside of which the six alien bridge officers sat with their backs against a tall floor-to-ceiling pillar. Their bifurcated mandibles and spiky upper appendages spilled onto the deck immediately surrounding the pit, with the nearest officer half a meter from Jonathan’s boots. Horned plates lined the segmented carapaces of their abdomens. They reminded Jonathan of praying mantis insects—very fat ones at that. These Raakarr were not wanting for food sources.

Valor was there among them, though Jonathan had no idea who he was, as the aliens all looked mostly the same to him. It was like trying to pick out a particular fire ant from a colony. Also, there was never any outward sign when a Raakarr communicated telepathically, and the seating arrangements themselves weren’t obvious. Barrick himself didn’t know which of them was Valor.

A Centurion stood immediately to Jonathan’s left, and beyond the combat robot resided Barrick. On the captain’s right was the Artificial named Bill Wethersfield, who didn’t wear a spacesuit of any kind. The Artificial was trained in interstellar relations and first contact protocols. Its first and last names were a bit too human for Jonathan’s comfort, though he supposed the names suited its rank and rating; and he shouldn’t discriminate—AIs were just as sentient as human beings. And vastly more intelligent. One would think, with all that intelligence, that the AIs would wise up and plot to take over humanity. But their programming prevented that, of course, and as long as they were given most of the same rights as human beings, AIs were happy to coexist with their makers.

The Zarafe bridge guards were enveloped in a dark mist that was common to most of the alien crew. Generated by a device Barrick had named a tartaan, it functioned both as shield and environmental suit, though of course the aliens had no need of the latter functionality in the current environment. Two of the guards bookended Jonathan’s party, and another two resided near the entry hatch.

“Valor asks if you are happy to be aboard the Talon once more,” Barrick said.

“Tell him I’m thrilled,” Jonathan said flatly.

“He is pleased that you think so,” Barrick replied. “He wants to invite you to his quarters later to share a meal. Human refreshments will be provided, of course. Along with a breathable atmosphere.”

“So I’ll have to be herded inside some glass tank in his quarters?” Jonathan asked. “Like some prized specimen in a menagerie?”

“Something like that.”

“Tell him I’ll have to respectfully decline,” Jonathan said. “I don’t want to get any closer to our alien hosts than I have to. And I’d hate to have to watch him eat. Don’t tell him that last bit, of course.”

“Oh, I think you wouldn’t be so disgusted,” Barrick said. “As I told you once before, they slather liquid sustenance over the corrugated grooves in their bellies, and then let it sit there overnight. That counts as their digestion.”

“As I said, I’ll have to decline.”

“What about you, Wethersfield?” Barrick asked. “Would you like to attend Valor?”

“Certainly,” Wethersfield said. “I’d be happy to. I must take every opportunity to study our hosts.”

“Too bad Valor didn’t invite you,” Barrick replied with a malicious smirk.

“Is he always this cruel to you?” Jonathan asked the Artificial.

Wethersfield shrugged. “He seems to enjoy baiting me. The telepath has an odd sense of humor. Like most humans.”

After watching the Talon depart from Etalon Station, above the partially terraformed, Mars-like world Ares, third planet of Beta Ursae Majoris, Jonathan left the bridge. In the passageway outside, glowing blue filaments lined the bulkheads, their unique floral patterns lighting the way. The dim light didn’t penetrate far through the thick yellow atmosphere, but it was enough for Jonathan to make out the strange symbols etched into the metal between the glowing strands.

“Wethersfield, do we know what these symbols mean, yet?” Jonathan transmitted via his aReal. The innate range of the device was fifty meters, but a United Systems comm node previously captured from the Selene had been stowed near the bridge, and acted as a repeater to boost the signal. The United Systems shuttle in the hangar bay also contained a comm node, as did the two telemetry drones docked there with it; the latter could be deployed to boost communications range with the fleet, as necessary.

“I believe they are a reference to the Raakarr naval regulations,” Wethersfield said from the bridge. “The patterns mean nothing on their own, but when observed while walking, the image is like a flip book, constantly changing, and invokes patterns reminiscent of the three-dimensional point cloud of their mental language, as shown to me by Barrick.”

“So you’re saying they’ve put up their navy regulations on the wall, to remind the crew of their duties?”

“I believe so,” Wethersfield said. “Though I suspect that like human beings, they stop paying attention to that code after the first day or so, and the regulations become merely lights to them.”

“So we’ve confirmed these aliens can actually see?” Jonathan said. “In the traditional sense of the word?”

“In the traditional sense, I believe they can,” Wethersfield said. “From what I’ve been able to determine, they can only see two wavelengths of light, red and blue; the same reds and blues emitted by the bulkheads. During ordinary operating circumstances, in the Raakarr equivalents of material conditions YOKE and XRAY, the filaments are blue. In the Raakarr equivalent of condition ZEBRA, set under general quarters, those filaments glow red.

“The resolution of the Raakarr eye also seems to be very coarse-grained. Imagine looking at a very low-res display, where you can see the individual square pixels, and many of those pixels are missing, creating gaps. Light entering the Raakarr eye forms a three-dimensional point cloud of the surrounding environment in their minds. Bulkheads. Deck. Overhead. None of the objects truly appear solid. Though I have not experienced their vision firsthand of course—how can I?—I believe the symbology of their language is based on their vision, and therefore they must see in ‘point clouds,’ just as they relay telepathic images that way. Barrick has concluded the same.”

“Interesting.” Jonathan continued striding down the passageway, his boots clanging on the metallic deck. The thought foremost in his mind, was: how can we use that to our advantage? If the Raakarr see in point clouds, and communicate in point clouds, then they must think and strategize in the same way.

He bumped into one of the Centurions that escorted him, and the impact lifted him from his thoughts.

“Sorry, Captain,” the combat robot said.

Jonathan had been walking blindly, lost in thought, and he realized then that the group had reached a bend. He corrected his course and took the turn. The Centurion fell into place beside him, as did another. The second robot had stood watch outside the bridge hatch, joining Jonathan when he and the first robot had emerged.

There were only ten such robots aboard, with most of them securing the shuttle that had carried Jonathan aboard: the United Systems didn’t want any of its tech captured and studied without permission. Jonathan would have preferred many more of the Centurions, of course. As far as he was concerned, the combat robots should have been distributed throughout the Talon to prevent the aliens from attempting any sort of betrayal. But he knew such numbers would have been basically impossible to negotiate—he wouldn’t have allowed very many alien robots aboard a vessel he commanded, either.

Ahead, two darkness-clad Raakarr led the way. Jonathan’s aReal had mapped out the route to his berthing area, so he could have easily traveled there on his own, but Valor insisted on the escort. The aliens still didn’t trust Jonathan, of course. Just as he didn’t trust them.

He reached the airlock to the berthing area and entered the outer hatch with the combat robots. The two aliens meanwhile assumed a guard position outside.

“Barrick, would you mind asking Valor why he still insists on treating me like a prisoner?” Jonathan said as the outer hatch closed.

“Valor says he’s posting the guards for your protection,” Barrick replied, his voice warping slightly.

“My protection...” Jonathan said in disbelief.

“Yes,” Barrick said. “In case one of the Raakarr from the Elk faction escape. Or one of what he calls... well, ‘nasty pets’ is the best translation.”

Jonathan frowned. “Nasty pets...”

“You can imagine I’m sure that these aliens have a whole range of nasty pets we humans have never encountered,” Barrick said. “Put dogs and cats to shame, I’m sure. At least in terms of aggression factor.”

“Why haven’t we seen any of these so-called pets before?” Jonathan asked.

“I’d guess they have strict regulations to keep them locked in their quarters,” Barrick replied. “And as you now know, they write their regulations on their bulkheads, so the crew are not likely to forget.”

“Except that this ship is crewed by defectors,” Jonathan said. “Who can do what they wish.”

“Valor tells me he is obeying Raakarr navy regulations nonetheless,” Barrick said.

“Interesting species,” Jonathan commented.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Barrick replied.

“Valor knows I’m in command, right?”

“Oh he knows,” Barrick said.

“Then he also knows I can order him to dismiss the guards.”

“Do you really want to start testing the limits of your command already, Captain?” Barrick asked. “The guards are merely symbolic, anyway. The onboard AI has eyes throughout the ship.”

Jonathan glanced at the bulkhead beside him, and spotted a tiny, dark disk set within the metal. Similar disks lined the passageway at regular intervals. Barrick had pointed those out to him as AI monitor points. “Maybe I’ll pluck out some of those eyes.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Barrick said. “Unless you want to cause an incident.”

“Probably not a good idea this early in Human-Raakarr relations, is it?”

When the yellow atmosphere of the airlock vented, the inner hatch slid aside. Jonathan passed a rack containing several oxygen tanks compatible with his suit, and paused at a table beside the opening; via the provided ladle, he scooped up a portion of the vitamin-laden gruel the Raakarr had left for him in a small pot on the table. He placed a large dollop of the stuff in a freshly 3D-printed plate.

Damn, how I miss my captain’s mess, and the gourmet meals of my personal chef.

Jonathan entered an expansive low-ceilinged compartment, probably originally intended as a cargo bay, with enough room to hold between fifty and a hundred human beings. It was the same compartment he had berthed in during his first tenure aboard. Currently, only he, Wethersfield and the Centurions berthed there. Barrick quartered in a completely different part of the ship. Jonathan had visited him there once, and his quarters reminded him of a sick bay with all the beds and medical instruments. None of them were his, of course, but rather the instruments the aliens had created with their equivalent of 3D printers to operate on humans. The prison ship where the captives of the Selene were held had a compartment almost exactly the same as that one. Jonathan suspected that the members of another lost ship, the Aegis, had been held aboard before being systematically put to death, but Valor never admitted to it.

The aReal interface on his faceplate informed him that the atmosphere was breathable, but he didn’t remove his helmet. Not yet.

The glow from the bulkhead filaments seemed weaker in that place, but he knew it was only because of the broad nature of that compartment: the patterned illumination couldn’t reach the far sides. There were also no filaments in the deck or overhead, contributing to the murk that swallowed the distant bulkheads. Sometimes he worried that the aliens had placed some creature in the dark to get him. One of those “nasty pets” Barrick had mentioned.

Which is why when he berthed here previously he always turned on his helmet headlamp and made a quick sweep of the area with the Centurions. He did the same now.

He passed the latrine area, which the aliens hadn’t cleaned up since he first boarded those many months ago. His helmet protected him from the smell, thankfully. He finished his sweep of the compartment and, as usual, turned up nothing. 

Jonathan approached the small psi-shielded tent Lieutenant Connie Myers had developed for him. His former chief scientist had been assigned to the Stalwart with Captain Chopra. He hoped she served Chopra well.

Jonathan entered the tent and sealed the fabric behind him, and only then did he remove his psi-shielded helmet to breathe the oxygen environment provided by the Zarafe. The air smelled just as stale as that of his suit, though perhaps mustier. He caught a whiff of fetor, even though he’d pitched the tent as far away from the open latrine as possible. Well, at least he didn’t have to listen to his own breathing anymore, which was amplified and reflected back to him whenever he wore the helmet, the built-in noise cancelers never doing a very good job of masking the sound.

He wondered vaguely how Robert was doing. Jonathan had been so eager to return so that he could warn the United Systems of the alien threat, and it turned out that perhaps his warning might not have been necessary. The Raakarr basically alerted the United Systems themselves by dispatching that incursion force, in what Jonathan guessed was an attempt by the aliens to probe their newfound enemies, testing the strengths and weaknesses of the United Systems fringe territories.

Still, coming back early did have at least one positive: he had allowed the United Systems to reach an alliance with a faction of the aliens, who had given them a map of key planets utilized by the opposing group, providing them with the location of that fuel-generating colony world whose destruction would cripple their space navy. Plus he had dumped some key technology their way: a humanoid suit used by the Elder away team, a Raakarr body and its accessories, and one of the very same tartaan generators the aliens used to cloak themselves in darkness. That tech was on its way now to the scientific center of Aberdeen, where it would no doubt be broken apart and reverse engineered in a few months.

Jonathan retrieved the aReal glasses from his utility belt and donned them. The system automatically logged him in, transferring over his settings from the helmet aReal and connecting him, via the local comm nodes aboard, back to the shared network of comm nodes and aReals spread across the fleet.

That done, he took a long inhale, pinched his nose between two fingers, and then began to eat the thick gruel from the plate.

nine

It took ten days for the fleet to reach the Gate to Delta Avalon. Before going to sleep each night, Jonathan practiced with the psi training app, hoping to build up his mental defenses. His progress proved terrible, but he persisted anyway. There probably wasn’t much point to it, given that the tent fabric already shielded him, but being aboard the same ship with Barrick gave him the willies, and he figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, it was something else to help while away the time. And there was never anything wrong with self-development, after all, even if that development belonged to the realm of pseudo-science.   

Because of the United Systems comm nodes aboard the Talon, and the close proximity of the vessel to the rest of the fleet, he was able to share data with the human vessels, and as such readily pulled up the system map, along with its latest updates. Delta Avalon was an eight planet system, five inner terrestrials, three outer gas giants, with a classical cepheid star that changed in size and intensity over time, following a thirty-five day pulsation cycle. The preliminary battle group, 35.1, had already moved the hidden Gates back into place, and deployed comm nodes in front of each wormhole so that information could pass back and forth between the InterGalNet that linked the systems.

35.1 had dispatched telemetry drones throughout Delta Avalon, but so far those drones hadn’t turned up any signs of enemy shipyards. Repairs had begun on the colony situated upon Tau Delta Avalon VI, a terraformed moon in orbit around the first gas giant. Jonathan thought it was a bit early to begin rebuilding, considering how relatively close the colony was to enemy territory, but he didn’t voice his concerns to the vice admiral. The United Systems hated to let a terraformed world go to waste, he knew.

Specialized Builder vessels supervised the construction of orbital defense platforms above Tau Delta Avalon VI. The United Systems had provided three corvettes and two destroyers from Task Group 71.3 to guard the planet. Six private mercenary craft supplemented the task group, likely hired by the local interim government.

It took a week to cross the system and traverse the outgoing Gate to Anvil Rappel. The Asiatic Alliance owned that binary star system; a fleet of twenty AA warships loitered near the destroyed colony on Anvil Prime, protecting their interests. As far as Jonathan could tell, no rebuilding of the colony had yet begun.

On the system map presented by Jonathan’s aReal, he saw seventeen planets, some containing up to thirty-two moons, and an expansive asteroid belt. A red dot flashed on the representation of the third terrestrial from the sun. Curious... he enhanced that portion of the map, and saw that the telemetry drones had flagged the presence of a Raakarr shipyard on that world—no doubt created by the shipyard class of probe Barrick had once told him about, a device filled with microbots that could utilize a planet’s resources to duplicate themselves and construct a single Raakarr “dart” class of warship within a month, an insanely short amount of time, at least compared to the construction duration needed for a complete United Systems vessel.

Apparently the shipyard had been completely razed by the first battle group, along with the vessel that had been under development. Curious as to whether any samples of the alien construction tech had been captured, Jonathan attempted to access the mission logs, but any further information was beyond his clearance level.

The military base the Asiatic Alliance had allowed the United Systems to operate there had been destroyed as well during the alien incursion, and it appeared the United Systems wasn’t planning on rebuilding it any time soon.

As in Delta Avalon, the previously hidden Gates had been moved back into place, and the comm nodes restored.

So far, so good.

After twelve days the fleet reached the Gate to Prius 3. Since no return Gate existed within said system, as it had been destroyed by the invaders, there was no way for the United Systems to know whether Battle Group 35.1 was still intact on the other side, or a Raakarr ambush awaited. As such, Jonathan had the Talon dispatch a telemetry probe inside to gauge the situation, since the alien probes could traverse Slipstreams just as easily as their ships.

Barrick transmitted a message to Jonathan when the device returned intact. “Valor tells me the probe has detected two units belonging to 35.1, a smaller gathering of ships near the current Slipstream endpoint, and a larger fleet near the Slipstream to Vega 951. It’s safe to pass through.”

Jonathan relayed the message to the vice admiral and the battle group members traversed the Gate one by one, severing their communications with the rest of the United Systems.

They encountered the aforementioned smaller Battle Unit 35.1.2 immediately, whose ships included a Builder and two destroyer escorts. The Builder was constructing the return Gate to Anvil Rappel, which had been destroyed in the initial attack. The annular structure appeared about one-fifth complete.

“Welcome, captains,” the comm officer of one of the destroyers sent, fleet-wide. “For a moment there, we weren’t sure if it was you, or a surprise flanking attack by the aliens.”

That’s what happens when you send in an alien probe first, Jonathan thought.

The fleet made its way toward the farther Slipstream that led to Vega 951, where the rest of Battle Group 35.1 waited on another Builder to complete the outgoing Gate. Because of the nature of the construction, only one Builder could work on a Gate at once. The Gate properties changed in an unpredictable manner as the increasing mass of the in-progress Gate influenced the time-space dilations of the wormhole, and the thickness had to be varied accordingly as the construction proceeded. If another Builder worked on a different Gate section at the same time, it would throw off the calculations for the both of them, resulting in an ineffective Gate.

Wormhole physics were still a big unknown: scientists experimented on un-Gated Slipstreams in an effort to understand them, but even a century and a half after their discovery, humanity still lacked the understanding of the underlying science. It was too bad the Raakarr didn’t want to share their knowledge.

Give it time, Jonathan thought. At some point, we’ll either manage to steal the tech, or buy it. We’re good at that. Probably won’t understand how it works, but that’s okay.

He consulted the map of the tertiary star system. Two of the suns orbited each other in close proximity, while a third orbited their combined center of mass much farther out. Pseudo planets surrounded that third star; the dome colony on the Mercury-like second planet had been destroyed, along with the United Systems military base. No rebuilding had begun. A large, slow-rotating asteroid, labeled Hercules 951-A, was marked in red, indicating that another alien shipyard had been discovered there, and also had been razed by the first battle group.

When 35.2 reached the outgoing Slipstream, Admiral Wilhelmina Ford of the USS Renegade, Battle Group 35.1, assumed command of the combined fleet. Jonathan still reported to Vice Admiral Levieson.

In a month’s time, Battle Group 34.1 and Task Group 72.4 joined them, adding their numbers to the fleet, and transmitting the latest updates from NAVCENT. In the following weeks, Navy Central Command dispatched further comm nodes through the Gate to give periodic updates, but there was no way to send answering briefs until the return Gate was completed.

At one point during the long months of waiting for Gate completion, Jonathan, growing impatient, suggested sending the Talon through to act as a scout, but Levieson rejected the notion, worried that the ship might be lost to any Raakarr mines placed on the other side. The Talon had a couple of probes that were equivalent to telemetry drones, but once again Levieson didn’t want to risk alerting any alien presence on the other side, not until they were ready to attack in force.

“Will you at least allow Valor to send a probe through when the Callaway and her fleet are scheduled to arrive three months from now?” Jonathan said.

“I’m leaning toward the no side,” Levieson said.

“They’ll be stuck there for a month, not knowing we’re waiting for them on this side.”

“I know,” Levieson said. “I’ll take it up with the admiral, but I already know what her answer is going to be.”

“I forgot,” Jonathan said, unable to hide his sarcasm. “You don’t want to risk alerting any aliens there.”

“It’s a valid concern,” Levieson said. “And what if Commander Cray and the survivors of Task Group 72.5 don’t arrive? What then?”

“They’ll be there,” Jonathan said.

“All right. But consider another question. Let’s say we did allow the Talon to send a probe three months from now. How do you know the Callaway wouldn’t attack that probe? As far as they’re concerned, it could belong to any Raakarr ship. Hell, Battle Group 35.1 almost did the same when the Talon sent its probe through into this system.”

“It’ll be a quick run,” Jonathan said. “In and out as quickly as possible.”

“It’s best to err on the side of caution, Jonathan, for both scenarios.” 

“All right,” Jonathan said. “I’m just worried about us flying through blind.”

“Oh, we’ll have eyes on the other side,” Levieson replied. “Don’t you worry. When the Gate is complete, then the Talon can launch its probes.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “Even so, I have to admit, I hate having to rely on their technology. If they lie, and lead us into a trap... I still think your negotiators should have gotten them to teach us how to create telemetry drones that could traverse Slipstreams without a Gate, at the very least.”

“I’m told they tried everything to get the Zarafe to share even just a tiny bit of tech like that,” Levieson said. “But the Zarafe pointedly refused. That small problem about wanting us to give them a planet killer all to themselves... but maybe you can convince them to give us something.”

“If the best negotiators in the fleet couldn’t do it, what makes you think I could?”

After Jonathan finished the call, he contacted Barrick. “What can we do to get ourselves the designs for Raakarr Slipstream-traversal tech?”

“Barring giving them the designs of a planet killer in exchange?” the telepath said. “Nothing.”

“Can we steal them?” Jonathan asked.

“Given that I don’t have access to their AI,” Barrick said. “And if I did, I wouldn’t know how to use it, that scenario seems highly unlikely.”

Four months later, the return Gate to Anvil Rappel was finally completed, restoring full communications with NAVCENT. As was the Gate to Vega 951. No enemies emerged during that time.

With the Gate finished, Jonathan received an order from Levieson.

“All right, it’s time for the Talon to send a telemetry probe through,” the vice admiral sent.

“On it.” As Jonathan hurried to the bridge, he tapped in Barrick. “We’re finally going to dispatch an advance probe. Tell Valor to get ready.”

Jonathan reached the bridge, and one of his escorting Centurions took up a position outside, while the other joined him as he stood between Barrick and Wethersfield.

On the tactical map overlaying his vision courtesy of the Leviathan, Jonathan watched a red dot launch from the Talon. The dot quickly turned blue as the CDCs of the surrounding ships marked it as a friendly, like the Talon itself. Also like the Talon, it was a lighter shade of blue than the other vessels, as if its “friendly” status was only temporary.

The dot penetrated the Slipstream and vanished. While Jonathan waited for it to return, he thought to himself:

Come on Robert, be there. Be there.

The dot returned.

“So, what do we have?” Jonathan asked eagerly. He was unable to link his aReal to the alien technology, of course, so he couldn’t access any data from the probe.

“Otter tells me the Gate is clear.” Otter was one of the Raakarr bridge crew that Barrick used to interface with the aliens.

“Yes yes,” Jonathan snapped. “But what about the Callaway and the rest of the task group? They’re waiting for us, correct?”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Barrick said. “There’s no sign of the Callaway or any other survivors of Task Group 72.5. There’s no indication of any Raakarr either, for that matter.”

“They have to be there,” Jonathan said. “They would have finished the return Gate in the Elder galaxy by now.”

“Unfortunately, Captain,” Barrick said. “They’re not.”

Jonathan felt his heart sinking. “Is there debris?”

“No,” Barrick replied.

That was somewhat encouraging, at least. “The Raakarr must have driven them into hiding.”

“Maybe,” Barrick said. “But like I mentioned, there are no signs of any Raakarr. No thermal signatures anywhere within the interplanetary space, nor upon the planets themselves.”

“Oh, they’re there all right,” Jonathan said. “Hiding, no doubt. Probably at least one shipyard, too.”

“So, what do we have?” Levieson transmitted.

“Apparently the Gate is clear,” Jonathan said. “And the probe didn’t detect any thermal signatures indicative of shipyards or vessels anywhere in the system.”

“The Raakarr are hiding,” Levieson said.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Task Groups 72.5 or 12.5.2?” Levieson asked.

“No sign of either.”

“I’m sorry, Jonathan,” Levieson said.

“Don’t be,” Jonathan told the vice admiral. “They’re out there, somewhere. I know they are. Assuming...” He hesitated.

“What is it,” Levieson said. “Speak your mind.”

“Assuming the Zarafe haven’t lied to us about the probe results. Or Barrick himself.”

“The aliens I might understand,” the vice admiral said. “I’m sure they, Zarafe faction and Elk alike, would like nothing better than to forcibly take our planet killer. But Barrick? Why would Barrick lie?”

“Trust me when I tell you he has his own agenda,” Jonathan said. “So what’s next, vice admiral?”

Levieson paused. He was likely taking up the matter with Admiral Ford. Then: “We send a final update to NAVCENT regarding our status, and request confirmation to proceed with the mission.”

That confirmation came twenty-four stanhours later. The Talon had kept one probe active on the other side of the Slipstream, with orders to return if anything out of the ordinary transpired. The alien vessel launched its last probe through to verify that the original was still intact on the other side, and when it returned with confirmation that nothing had changed in the destination system, the combined fleet, sixty warships strong, plus five support ships, passed through the wormhole into Vega 951, leaving behind twenty members of 34.1 and 72.4 to guard the Prius 3 system.

The ships of the battle group entered in four single file columns, with the individual craft in each column separated by one kilometer from the vessel in front of it. The intention was to obfuscate their heat signatures to any watchers deeper within the system—with luck, it would appear that only four United Systems ships had passed through the Slipstream, not sixty.  

Jonathan had Captain Chopra relay the external view from the Stalwart to him, and he watched as the stars outside changed when the Talon entered the Gate. They were once more in the blind, cut off from communications with NAVCENT.

He stared at those empty constellations, and then pulled up the system map to study the planets.

Where are you, Robert?

An answer entered his mind. It was a thought he hadn’t entertained until that moment. But he had to face the reality... there was a chance Robert and Task Group 72.5 were still stranded in the Elder galaxy. Something must have happened to them there. Either that, or they had in fact returned, and the Elk faction had captured their fleet.

I should have never left them.

ten

Jonathan gazed at the familiar layout of Vega 951 on his aReal. Three terrestrial inner planets, three gas giants in the mid to outer regions of the system, and eight pseudo-planets that orbited the outskirts beyond the third gas giant. Three Slipstreams: 1-Vega, which led back to Prius 3, revolved around the Vega 951 star in an eccentric orbit that weaved in and out of the seventh and eighth pseudo-planets; 2-Vega, on the opposite side of the system, which led deeper into Raakarr territory; and situated halfway between 1-Vega and 2-Vega was the third and last Slipstream, which, in an odd deviation from the usual flawless Elder planning, opened directly into the Tau Ceti sun. Some theorized that 3-Vega was an experimental Slipstream whose endpoint had never been reset to ordinary space, others postulated that the Elder used it to harvest hydrogen and helium from the core of the Tau Ceti star. Whatever the case, 3-Vega was useless to the battle group.

The celestial object that was currently the closest to the fleet was a large asteroid, labeled 951-671 by Jonathan’s aReal, roughly half a day away, that had been captured by 1-Vega’s weak gravitational pull. When Jonathan had returned from the Elder galaxy in the Talon, three Raakarr ships had emerged from behind that asteroid and chased the Talon into Prius 3.

On the tactical display overlaying his vision, Jonathan witnessed several yellow dots emerge from individual ships as the fleet launched telemetry drones. It was a literal swarm, with at least a hundred drones in that yellow mass. Dashed blue lines indicated the estimated trajectories: the drones were on a course to map out all the celestial bodies of the star, including the moons of the gas giants, the pseudo-planets, and the larger asteroids, with a telemetry drone destined for 951-671 half a day away, for example. Eight drones made for Vega 951 itself, to ensure that no enemy vessels were hiding their infrared signatures in the thermal wash of the main sequence star.

“Valor wants to know what the fleet is going to do next,” Barrick said.

“The answer is simple,” Jonathan said. “We wait. The admiral isn’t going to fly across open space to the next Slipstream, not while enemy ships could be lurking behind any of the planets along the way.”

“And if we find any of these enemy ships?” Wethersfield asked.

Jonathan glanced at the Artificial. “You’ve been privy to most of our communications. What do you think is going to happen, AI?”

“I haven’t been privy to all of them,” Wethersfield replied. “You don’t always use an open line when communicating to Valor via Barrick. And your voice doesn’t penetrate beyond your helmet.”

“We’re on a mission to bloody the noses of the Elk faction,” Jonathan told Wethersfield. “So I’ll let you guess what’s going to happen if we find any ships.”

“Valor has something else to say,” Barrick interjected.

“Go ahead,” Jonathan replied.

“You say Admiral Ford isn’t going to fly across open space to the next Slipstream,” Barrick said. “Well, Valor insists that staying here is the equivalent of open space. There are no gravity wells or anything else we can use to our advantage. The gravity from the Slipstream itself is too weak. And we can’t flee through the Slipstream, either. Well, the Talon can, but Valor means everyone else.”

“Touching that Valor cares so much for our well-being,” Jonathan said.

“I think he only cares about seeing the Elk colony destroyed,” Barrick replied.

“Oh I know,” Jonathan said. “I was being sarcastic. Tell Valor to share the Slipstream traversal tech with us if he’s so worried.”

Barrick replied a few moments later. “Valor had no comment on the tech sharing, but he did suggest we assume a position behind the third gas giant.”

Jonathan shook his head. “We won’t be moving anywhere until we at least explore the pseudo-planets between here and the giant, not to mention its many moons. But tell Valor I’ll send his strategic input up the chain of command.” Where it will be promptly ignored. He headed toward the bridge hatch. “I’ll be in my quarters. Notify me if anything changes.”

“You’re not really going to send his input up the chain of command, are you?” Barrick asked.

“Nope,” Jonathan said.

A half day passed. No vessels were discovered behind the nearby asteroid 951-671.

In the coming days, while the telemetry drones advanced throughout the system, the fleet continued to lurk near the Slipstream, maintaining formation. Those four lines of United Systems vessels formed a diamond pattern when viewed from the front, fifteen warships plus one support ship per line, with each craft separated by one kilometer. The support ships—the first Builder and the three harvester vessels—resided at the end of the lines, and were positioned closest to 1-Vega. The second Builder was the only ship that had left formation, and that was only so it could begin construction of a return Gate.

Two of the outer pseudo-planets were mapped next. Because of the current orbital configuration of the planets, Achilles, fourth planet from the sun, was next in line. A gas giant, its moon Achilles I contained the wreck of the Elder vessel that had attracted the Selene’s attention the first time Jonathan had come to Vega 951. It was also the same moon the Raakarr had used in their initial ambush against them. But Achilles I proved abandoned, as did the seventeen other satellites orbiting the giant.

Jonathan didn’t know what to believe when he heard the news. This was an alien race, after all, whose thinking was equally alien to humankind. But strategically, it didn’t make sense to leave the system empty, not when it bordered the territory of a neighboring species the Raakarr had just attacked. Unless that attack had been initiated by divergent elements within the Elk faction. Still, even Valor believed Elk faction ships were somewhere out there.

Where are they hiding?

Jonathan gazed at the destroyer that harbored the planet killer, located near the center of the fleet, just in front of the Talon. The Dammerung.

They want you, certainly.

He glanced at the support craft: the two Builders, and the three harvesters. He was never sure why Builders were capitalized, while harvesters were not, but it was navy decorum. He supposed the capitalization emphasized how important those ships were, especially at the moment. Depending on one’s point of view, those ships were even more valuable than the planet killer.

If we want to return home, we have to protect those Builders at all costs.

A WEEK PASSED. There was still no sign of the enemy, nor any other United Systems craft. It was becoming increasingly unlikely that Robert and Task Group 72.5 had made it back.

“It’s very odd,” Jonathan told Levieson during the morning meeting the vice admiral held with the captains who served under him. “We’ve mapped two of the gas giants, two of the pseudo-planets, and one of the inner terrestrials, and still we haven’t found anything. No enemy vessels. No shipyards.”

“Are we sure our probes haven’t missed something?” Captain Chopra transmitted. “With the enemy operating in some kind of stealth mode?”

“That’s certainly a possibility,” Levieson said. “But according to our allies, even in stealth mode a Raakarr ship emits a characteristic heat signature. If they’re out there, we’ll find them.”

“What if the system proves empty in the end?” another captain, one Ralph Hansel, said.

“Then we send Builder 2 forward with an escort to begin construction of the second Gate as planned.”

“The enemy might be waiting for us to separate,” Captain Chopra said. “That could be the spark that ignites the attack.”

“Then we’ll deal with the attack when it comes,” Levieson said. “We’ll keep the planet killer here at all times, with the majority of the fleet. And we’ll make sure Builder 2 has a sizable escort.”

“When you say sizable, how many ships are we talking?” Jonathan said.

“Probably at least a dozen,” Levieson said. “To guard against a surprise attack from the Slipstream itself.”

“Can we mine the Slipstream entrance with nukes while we’re building a Gate?” Hansel asked.

“We can,” Levieson said. “But they have to be very carefully placed to prevent damage to the Builder and the Gate if those mines detonate prematurely.”

When the meeting ended, Jonathan tapped in Levieson directly. Hologram mode.

“What can I do for you, Jonathan?” the vice admiral asked.

“I hope you’re taking into account that Valor could be lying to us,” Jonathan told him. “This whole thing could be staged. There might be no factions within the Raakarr.”

Levieson sighed. “Jonathan, please, let it go. I know you think this whole colony world thing is a trick on their part to steal the planet killer from us, but can you drop it until we see proof of that?”

“Sorry, sir,” Jonathan said.

“And don’t worry,” Levieson said. “Before we launched, the mission detractors brought up the same issues. Trust me, it’s a possibility we’re watching for.”

“Good,” Jonathan said. “Because at this point, it’s starting to feel more and more like an ambush.”

“None of us can let our guard down,” Levieson agreed. “Especially not you, located as you are aboard the alien starship harboring our so-called allies and friends.”

“That’s what I needed to hear,” Jonathan told him. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: we can trust Valor only so far.”

“Though the tricky part is,” Levieson said. “How can we tell where that trust ends and subterfuge begins?”

“Oh I think we’ll be able to tell,” Jonathan said.

Levieson arched an eyebrow. “Will we?”

SEVERAL WEEKS PASSED before the telemetry drones completed their full exploration of the system. Vega 951 proved completely devoid of any foreign craft. The drones identified the wreckage of ships involved in previous battles, but there was no indication that any of that debris belonged to the survivors of Task Group 72.5. It seemed Robert and the rest had never returned. Even stranger, there was no debris from 12.5.2, the other task group NAVCENT had dispatched into the system, either.

The telemetry drones also found what appeared to be the debris of a Raakarr shipyard on the third terrestrial planet.

“You think they destroyed the shipyard themselves before pulling out of the system?” Chopra asked during the morning meeting of the captains that day.

“Valor tells me its not something his people would ordinarily do,” Jonathan said.

“Maybe they’re finally learning a bit of human unpredictably,” Hansel commented. 

“Is it possible a Zarafe faction did this?” Levieson said.

Jonathan relayed the question to Valor via Barrick.

“I think it’s unlikely,” Jonathan said after receiving the answer. “Valor tells me he hasn’t sent any orders for Zarafe sleeper cells to activate.”

“I suppose we’ll have to believe him,” Levieson said. “As none of our ships have detected any gamma ray emissions from the Talon.”

“What if they have some secondary communication method we don’t know about,” Captain Hansel said. “Other than gamma rays?”

“We haven’t seen any evidence of that,” Jonathan said.

“Captain Dallas, is it possible we’re facing a potential third actor?” Levieson said. “Another enemy of the Raakarr? Ask Valor.”

Jonathan did. Then: “Valor says the Raakarr only have one outside enemy at the moment: humanity. I think he’s implying that Task Group 72.5 did this.”

“But that’s impossible,” Levieson said.

“Is it?” Jonathan asked. “What if they’ve managed to secure the alien tech required to traverse Slipstreams without Gates?” It was wishful thinking, perhaps, but Jonathan found himself latching onto the small hope. He wanted to believe that the task group hadn’t met an untimely demise in that faraway galaxy.

“It’s more likely that Task Group 12.5.2 razed the shipyard, before they were captured or destroyed,” Levieson said. “Still, if 72.5 had secured the tech, why proceed deeper into Raakarr space? Why not return immediately, and share what they discovered with the rest of the United Systems?”

“That would be the most obvious course of action,” Jonathan said. “Unless they were being chased.”

“By who? The Elder?”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan said. “Maybe there were more Raakarr hiding in the Elder system. Or something else.”

“Something else...” Levieson said. “Fine, let’s say that was true. They stole the tech, fled here, but couldn’t return to Prius 3 because they were being chased. So where, during all of that, would they find the time to divert course and raze the shipyard?”

“We can’t know the specifics of it all,” Jonathan said. “Not until we find the task group.”

“Well,” Levieson said. “This is all speculation at the moment. In the absence of hard facts, I’m going to assume a Zarafe faction did this, acting on its own. I’m going to pass along my assumption to the admiral.”

A few hours later, Admiral Ford ordered Builder 2 and one of the harvesters to proceed toward the outgoing Slipstream 2-Vega. Eight warships were assigned to act as their escort. The remainder of the fleet stayed behind to guard the first Builder and the in-progress return Gate.

Jonathan tried to get permission for the Talon to join the outgoing unit: he wanted to launch a probe through 2-Vega and scout the other side. But once again the vice admiral turned down his request for fear of alerting whatever enemy might have awaited on the other side. As such, the Talon was forced to remain behind with the remainder of the battle group.

A week later Builder 2 and her escorts finally reached the Slipstream, and the Builder began construction of the Gate, which would be known as Outreach.

Three days later, Jonathan received an urgent call from Levieson.

“What is it?” Jonathan sent.

“The Leviathan just picked up a directed energy gamma ray signal,” Levieson sent.

“A gamma ray signal?” Jonathan replied, pulling on his helmet. “Where from?”

“It appears to have been sourced from somewhere on the surface of the main sequence star.”

“The star?” Jonathan emerged from the psi-shielded tent. “Why didn’t we spot anything?”

“I was hoping you’d ask our Raakarr friends.”

On the way to the bridge, Jonathan tapped in Barrick and explained the situation.

“Valor believes it came from an autonomous Raakarr probe,” Barrick replied some moments later. “Probably in a decaying orbit around the star. That close, the heat signature would have merged with Vega 951, making it virtually indistinguishable even to our own passing telemetry drones, which would’ve come no closer than three million kilometers to a star like that.”

Jonathan relayed the information to Levieson.

“Damn it,” Levieson said. “Valor could have told us they had heat shields to support such a close orbit earlier.”

“Have we calculated the destination of the gamma rays yet?” Jonathan asked.

“It’s 2-Vega,” Levieson replied. “They’re calling home.”

eleven

Jonathan knew that Admiral Ford would immediately recall the Builder and harvester. The expected order came a moment later, though it would take seventeen minutes for the intended vessels to receive it, and another seventeen minutes before any acknowledgment, either visual or communicated, became apparent.

Ford convened an emergency fleet-wide meeting of the captains shortly thereafter.

“The Builder will soon be on its way back to the rest of the fleet,” Ford said. “The problem is, no one knows how far away any reinforcements reside on the other side. The enemy could be minutes out, hours, or months. It took the Raakarr six months to muster their first assault against the survivors of Task Group 72.5 stranded here. Maybe the enemy will arrive sooner this time. Maybe not. Perhaps they might not arrive at all.

“Whatever the case, I’ve instructed four of the destroyers to remain behind to mine the entrance with seeker nukes. They’ll join the Builder and her escorts when the task is complete. If the enemy emerges before the destroyers finish mining the Slipstream, then the warships will do their best to stall them.”

“Mines aren’t going to help,” Jonathan said. “The last time we tried mining Slipstream openings, the aliens simply destroyed them with advance probes of some kind. We programmed the proximity fuses not to activate until actual ship-size objects came within range, but it didn’t help: the probes seemed to be some kind of hunter killers. Valor says they’re a special type of automated enemy fighter.”

“Our fleet is stocked with a new type of mine,” Ford explained. “Each one is equipped with defensive lasers and enough smarts to counter potential threats. They’re almost mini Avenger fighters. I’m hoping they’ll be able to stand up against whatever hunter killers the enemy sends until bigger targets arrive.”

“We’ll have to destroy the probe that transmitted the call-home, of course,” a Captain Bane transmitted.

“We will,” Ford agreed. “I’ve instructed one of the destroyers escorting the Builder to launch a nuke toward the source of the transmission as it passes by the sun.”

“We’re recalling our Builder, mining the entrance...” Captain Chopra said. “Are we really going to wait six months for the enemy to come to us? We could be done building the outgoing Gate by then.”

“We’re not going to wait that long, not if we don’t have to,” Admiral Ford replied. “The recall is merely a temporary measure, in case the enemy is lurking right on our doorstep. Captain Dallas, I want the Talon to launch its telemetry probe into the Slipstream. We no longer have to worry whether or not the enemy detects its presence on the other side... we’ve lost the element of surprise. The enemy has already called home. Find out what’s waiting for us in the next system. If there are no Raakarr ships, we’ll send the Builder back to finish the Gate. The Talon will remain close by, sending its probe into 2-Vega multiple times a day to act as an early warning system. I might even allow the Talon through on short exploratory missions.”

“You want the Talon to close with the Slipstream first, before launching the probe, correct?” Jonathan asked.

“How long will it take the probe to reach 2-Vega, if launched from your current position?” Ford countered.

Jonathan paused to confer with Barrick. “Like United System telemetry drones, their probes can’t travel as fast as the ships. The alien captain tells me it will take at least a week.”

“And how long if you travel directly to the Slipstream,” Ford said. “And launch the probe just outside?”

“Three days,” Jonathan said.

“All right,” the admiral said. “You have permission to take the Talon to the Slipstream. Proceed immediately. The Stalwart, Fade, and Halberd will provide escort.” A corvette, a frigate, and a destroyer.

“Done,” Bane sent. He commanded the Halberd. “But I have one concern.”

“Voice it,” Ford replied.

“I thought the Talon is the fastest vessel in the fleet?” Bane said. “Escorts will only slow her down.”

“They’ll only delay us by a few days,” Jonathan said. “I think the extra protection is worth it.”

“All right,” Bane sent. “Good enough for me.”

“Captain Dallas,” Ford said. “You are in command of the flotilla.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Jonathan ended the conference and had Barrick inform Valor of their mission.

A moment later Barrick replied: “Valor doesn’t like it. We’ll be flying out there with only three dinky ships providing escort? And only one of them a warship of any measure? He says he’s not going to do it.”

“Tell him he has no choice,” Jonathan said. “We’re to scout that Slipstream for the fleet. And if he refuses, the admiral will place someone else in charge of the Talon.”

Barrick was quiet a few moments, then gave the response. “Valor wishes you luck with that. He is in command of the ship, and no one else will replace him. He will attack the humans—his words—before he gives up the Talon. The admiral granted a mere Builder eight warships in escort. He demands at least ten to escort the Talon.”

“Valor really sees himself as quite the self-important one, doesn’t he?” Jonathan said. “He does know that if the Talon has to flee, any other ships belonging to our escort are essentially particle-beam fodder because of their slower speed?”

“Which is exactly why he wants more ships,” Barrick said. “He argues that more escorts will better be able to protect themselves, in addition to us.”

“Tell him he’s only getting three.”

Barrick did so, and returned the reply. “Again, he says he’s not going to obey. I’m sorry, Captain.”

Jonathan glanced at Wethersfield beside him. The Artificial arched an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me. I’m not entirely certain what to do. Navy regulations call for a certain delicacy when dealing with situations that could potentially endanger alien-human relations. But how can you be delicate when members of an alien race agree to obey your commands for the duration of a mission, and then refuse when it suits them?”

“I’ve been dealing with self-important bullies almost my entire career,” Jonathan said. “So I know exactly what to do: take away what they want. Doesn’t matter if Valor is alien, or human, it always works. Barrick, ask Valor this: how badly does he want to deploy the planet killer to the Elk colony?”

Barrick didn’t reply for a long while.

Wethersfield said: “I fear you may have unduly endangered Rakaar-Human relations with that question.”

“I don’t think so,” Jonathan said. “Watch.” Despite his words, he was beginning to feel a sense of doubt. Perhaps he had offended Valor in some way. He thought of the too few Centurions aboard the vessel and wondered how quickly the robots would be destroyed if the Zarafe turned on them. His party hadn’t been able to secure a tartaan darkness generator since coming aboard, and thus none of his crew knew the frequencies that would allow their laser rifles to penetrate the Raakarr personal shielding.

Finally Barrick spoke: “Captain. We’re departing toward 2-Vega.”

SHORTLY AFTER THE Talon broke away from the rest of the fleet, the escorts fell in beside them. The alien vessel matched their speed. On the tactical display provided by his aReal, there were now four distinct battle units. The first was labeled B1, and was composed of those members of the fleet staying behind at 1-Vega. The Talon and her escorts were labeled B2. B3 was the unit composed of the Builder, harvester, and four warships currently racing from 2-Vega to rejoin B1. And B4 indicated the four destroyers mining 2-Vega.

Jonathan studied the Talon on his tactical display, and the three vessels providing escort. The Stalwart, Fade, and Halberd put themselves at great risk by doing this. Like the admiral said, the enemy could be months away, or days. If the aliens proved close, and the Talon found itself under attack shortly after reaching the Slipstream, the escorts would most likely be lost, due to their inability to match the Talon’s velocity. He hadn’t been kidding when he told Barrick any ships with them would be particle-beam fodder.

The admiral should have probably sent along more vessels to escort them, as Valor had requested, but he knew that Ford likely considered the escorts expendable, and three United Systems ships were probably the most she was willing to put at risk. She certainly wouldn’t have allowed the Talon to go out there alone. The alien ship was too valuable. First and foremost, the fleet needed the Zarafe because only they could negotiate with any encountered Raakarr. Then there was the unshared tech aboard the alien craft, not to mention the alliance itself, both of which would be lost with the ship. Finally, Ford probably distrusted the Zarafe just as much as Jonathan; likely she had given the escorts secret orders to disable the Talon if it gave any outward signs of defecting to the enemy. If Jonathan planned to use the Talon in a bid to deceive any incoming alien ships, perhaps by pretending to side with them, he had to make damn certain the escorts remained informed of his intentions. That could prove tricky, especially if he attempted communications on standard United Systems channels.

A few hours later the four destroyers in B4 finished mining the entrance and retreated. One of the craft towed the diminutive portion of Outreach Gate that had been completed along behind it. To Jonathan, it almost didn’t seem worth the trouble to preserve the Gate. Then again, even the three days the Builder had spent on the construction could prove precious at some point.

A day later, while the Talon and her escorts continued on toward 2-Vega, the four destroyers joined B3, whose vessels were constrained by the slower speeds of the Builder and harvester. B4 matched their velocity, and the tactical display updated their combined label to B3, as there were now only three distinct battle units in the system.

One of the destroyers in B3 fired a nuke toward the main sequence star as it passed within one hundred million kilometers. The target coordinates aligned with the source of the gamma ray communication that had issued from the vicinity of the sun. The target’s orbital position was triangulated based on the size and weight information Valor had provided about their own probes, and the calculations also accounted for the Doppler effect detected in the beam itself. It was possible the nuke might miss if the target maneuvered away, but because the alien probe was estimated to be in a decaying orbit, it was doubtful it had the Delta Vs to move any significant distance from its predicted trajectory. Because the calculated orbit was decaying, it might not have been necessary to waste a nuke. Then again, Valor claimed the Raakarr could have reinforced the heat shielding to last for several months in that inferno, given the current estimated rate of descent.

Several hours later a red dot appeared on the display above the star; though hidden in the thermal wash, the plasma-penetrating X-LIDAR of the nuke had detected the object. The probe appeared almost precisely where the destroyer had predicted. Good thing, too, because the nuke didn’t have much room for maneuverability: at that distance from the star the Delta Vs were just as costly to the smart bomb as the target. The weapon would only just have the necessary propellant to meet the object. If the calculations were off, hopefully the expelled gases produced during the detonation would be enough to seriously degrade the decaying orbit, changing the probe’s lifetime to a few minutes instead of a few months.

As the nuke closed, Barrick made an announcement.

“The Zarafe are detecting a constant stream of gamma ray emissions from the probe,” Barrick said.

“Directed at the nuke?” Jonathan asked. “Defensive measures?”

“Some of them,” Barrick said. “But most of them are aimed at the Slipstream 2-Vega.”

“Calling for help even more fervently,” Jonathan said. “Makes you wonder if it isn’t manned. Though I guess any AIs running the probe would want to prolong their existence for as long as possible, too.”

“Precisely,” Wethersfield said. “AIs are sentient beings, too, regardless of whether or not they are alien. Capable of emotions. Fear. Self-preservation.”

“Assuming the aliens they’re modeled after have those emotions,” Jonathan said. “Barrick?”

“Oh the aliens have them, Captain,” Barrick replied. “Those two you mentioned, at least.”

“Will the nuke’s proximity fuse survive the intense gamma ray attacks directed at it?” Jonathan asked the Artificial.

“Theoretically,” Wethersfield replied. “Other circuits will probably fry, but the armor and heat shielding of the trigger and nuclear core are rated to withstand the EM fields and thermal energy found up to eight hundred thousand kilometers from a standard main sequence star.”

Three minutes later the nuke detonated. The red dot winked out.

“Well I guess that answers the question,” Jonathan said. “Good-bye alien probe.”

“How do you know there aren’t any more of them out there?” Wethersfield asked.

“Good point,” Jonathan replied. “Though if there are, it’s not going to make much difference at this point anyway. Any aliens beyond that Slipstream definitely know we’re here now.”

ALMOST FIVE DAYS later B2 arrived fifteen thousand kilometers out from Slipstream 2-Vega, and ten thousand klicks from the nearest smart mine.

Jonathan had come to the bridge to personally oversee the launch of the probe. Via his tactical display, he uncertainly studied those yellow dots mining the entrance.

“Captain Bane,” Jonathan transmitted. “Are we sure the Talon won’t trigger the proximity fuse of those mines?”

“The destroyers tell me they specifically programmed the mines to ignore the Talon, yes.”

“Just the same, I’d rather not get closer to them than we have to,” Jonathan said. “Barrick, instruct Valor to initiate a full stop. This is good enough. And Captain Bane, tell me those mines aren’t going to detonate when we launch the probe.”

“They won’t,” the captain of the Halbred replied. “They’re too small to trigger the proximity fuses. But as usual, we’ll tag the probe as a friendly anyway, just in case.”

“Good. Barrick, have the Zarafe dispatch the telemetry probe,” Jonathan said.

In moments a red dot appeared on the tactical display, moving away from the Talon toward the Slipstream. It turned blue as the CDC’s aboard the escorting ships tagged it as friendly.

Jonathan held his breath as it passed near two of the nukes. The mines didn’t detonate.

The dot vanished inside 2-Vega a moment later.

Jonathan waited one minute. Two.

“Well?” Jonathan said. “Where the hell is it? Captain Bane, did anything return yet?”

“No,” Bane replied.

Five minutes passed.

“I don’t think it’s coming back,” Captain Chopra of the Stalwart said.

“Barrick...” Jonathan said.

“The Zarafe believe anti-probe countermeasures must have been present on the other side,” the telepath said. “They’re going to launch another. This one will be programmed to return immediately upon leaving the warped space of the Slipstream, thus allowing it to transmit a snapshot of the space beyond.”

“Isn’t that their last probe?” Jonathan said.

“It is.”

“When you say ‘return immediately,’ what kind of time frame are we talking about?”

Barrick paused. Then: “Microseconds to milliseconds.”

Jonathan sighed. “Well, tell Valor to make sure they don’t lose it.”

Barrick nodded behind his faceplate. “Valor says they won’t.”

The next probe launched. Once again, Jonathan watched as the associated dot neared the Slipstream and passed between the nuclear mines. This time it began firing countering thrust well before approaching the wormhole, and it slowed right down to what seemed a halt. The dot edged forward at a snail’s pace, growing ever closer to the event horizon. It touched the point of no return, but didn’t wink out. Instead, the dot began accelerating back toward the fleet.

“Well,” Jonathan said. “Did they get a snapshot of the other side?”

“Otter says they did.”

“And...?”

“They’re still analyzing it,” Barrick said. A moment later: “They’ve definitely detected countermeasures on the other side. There’s debris consistent with the first probe, floating away from the opening. And...” He glanced at Jonathan urgently. “There are seven incoming Raakarr vessels. A capital ship and six dart ships. We have eight minutes before they arrive.”

twelve

Get that probe docked,” Jonathan commanded.

“Otter says they’re trying,” Barrick responded. “He also tells me that further analysis of the snapshot reveals twenty-four more Raakarr vessels, roughly four days away from the endpoint.”

“Great,” Jonathan said. “Nothing like thirty-one enemy ships to make one feel alive in the morning.”

He glanced at the approaching probe on his tactical display, and began to tap his foot impatiently. He was beginning to regret having halted so far out from the mines.

“Have Valor close the distance,” Jonathan ordered Barrick. “Then once we’ve picked it up, engage full reverse.”

On the tactical display, the Talon accelerated toward the object.

Come on. Come on.

“Bane,” Jonathan said. “Get the rest of B2 out of here.”

“What about you?”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Jonathan replied. “As soon as we collect the probe.”

“Perhaps we should leave it?” Wethersfield said.

“It’s our last probe,” Jonathan said. “We need it.”

The Talon decelerated rapidly as the probe came within range. The vessel had no problem collecting the device, unlike most United Systems vessels, which couldn’t dock drones or Avengers while underway at most speeds. The newer model vessels had specialized hangar bays that could handle high-velocity docking, however, but he wasn’t sure if any of the warships in the battle group had that capability. Not that it was relevant at the moment.

“The probe is docked,” Barrick said.

“Full reverse.” Jonathan watched as the Talon’s dot accelerated from the Slipstream. The remotely-updated display was lagged by a few microseconds, because B2 had ten thousand klicks on them. However the Talon was quickly closing the distance.

“How long will it take us to reach full acceleration?” Jonathan said.

“About sixty seconds,” Barrick replied.

“We can achieve the same speed as the enemy dart ships?”

“Supposedly,” Barrick replied.

“You sound doubtful.”

“Our engines are fully functional,” Barrick explained. “But it’s possible the enemy has modified their engines to give them higher speeds. I’ve seen it in some futures. Though not in this particular circumstance, I admit.”

“You haven’t seen this circumstance at all, have you?” Jonathan said.

“No,” Barrick admitted. “This is all new to me.”

“What about the capital ship? How fast is it?”

“It moves a little more slowly than the darts,” Barrick said.

“And the fighters the capital ship can launch?”

“Slower still.”

“The fighters can overtake the United System warships?” Jonathan asked.

“No. But the capital ship and dart ships can. As can the Talon, of course.”

As he watched the display, Jonathan realized the Talon would overtake the three escort vessels in about forty seconds. He had two choices at the moment: abandon them to stall the enemy—essentially sacrificing the escort ships to save the Talon; or help them fight, risking the Zarafe vessel.

But he already knew what choice he was going to make. The odds were only two to one. He had faced far worse.

“B2, get ready to stand and fight,” Jonathan transmitted.

“You got it,” Bane returned. “I assume you’ll be departing?”

“That’s a negative,” Jonathan said. “We fight with you. At least until the admiral orders us away.”

He had about seventeen minutes before orders from Admiral Ford arrived. That meant he had seventeen minutes to save the four ships under his command.

“I don’t think she would want you to risk the Talon...” Bane said.

“The admiral hasn’t issued any order for us to retreat, yet,” Jonathan said. “And there are no standing orders related to the matter. So until then, we’re staying.”

“Maybe the mines will take care of them,” Chopra transmitted. “There are only seven incoming vessels, after all.”

“Wishful thinking,” Jonathan said. “Trust me when I tell you we can’t rely on the mines. This enemy is known for their ingenuity. We can’t grow complacent. The mines won’t hold them.” Jonathan surveyed the tactical display for several moments. Then he said: “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

The Talon and its three escorts had only just finished moving into position and launching the nukes specified by the plan, when Barrick announced the appearance of a thermal flash near the Slipstream.

“A thermal flash?” Jonathan asked Barrick. “Did one of the mines detonate?”

The plan called for radio silence between the Talon and the rest of B2, so he had remotely deactivated the United System comm nodes aboard the alien vessel, severing his link to the other members of the flotilla. As such, he no longer had a tactical display to confirm or deny the loss of any mines. But there was also a plus side: he wouldn’t be able to receive any messages from the admiral recalling him from the battle.

“Not yet,” Barrick replied. “But more thermal flashes are appearing.”

“What are they?” Jonathan said.

“Otter says the heat signatures match that of their advance fighters,” Barrick replied. “They appear only briefly, and then wink out, leaving only debris. The defensive measures of the new nukes seem to be working, destroying the incoming advance units.”

“So we haven’t lost any mines yet?” Jonathan asked.

“So far, only one incoming fighter has detonated a mine prematurely. The rest remain intact.”

Jonathan waited a few seconds. “What’s going on now?”

“The advance fighters keep coming.” Barrick paused. “We just lost another nuke.”

Jonathan clenched and unclenched his gloves.

“It appears they’ve exhausted their advance scouts,” Barrick finally said. “We lost a total of three mines. The enemy lost twenty fighters.”

A minute ticked past. Two.

“Any sign of the enemy?” Jonathan asked.

“Not yet,” Barrick replied.

Jonathan glanced at Wethersfield. “How long until the seven enemy ships are projected to reach the Slipstream?”

“Based on their previous velocity,” Wethersfield replied. “They should have arrived a minute and a half ago. It appears our resistant mines have given them pause.”

Another minute passed.

“Anything, Barrick?” Jonathan said.

“No,” the telepath answered.

Jonathan was actually starting to believe the enemy would not come. He resisted the urge to re-initiate communications with B2, though he badly wanted to reactivate his tactical display.

“Otter reports a new thermal signature...” Barrick said. “We just lost a nuke.”

“And the thermal signature?”

“It remains,” Barrick replied.

“Damaged?”

“It...” Barrick paused. “Another nuke went off. The signature has definitely been degraded. Another nuke is seeking it... the signature has vanished.”

“Was it a fighter?”

“No,” Barrick said. “Otter tells me it was an enemy dart ship.”

“Sacrifice a ship to clear a path for the others,” Wethersfield commented. “An aggressive strategy, if not outright wasteful.”

“You think the ship was manned?” Jonathan asked.

“They hardly had time to transfer their crew to a different vessel...” Wethersfield replied.

A cold species.

“Have any other ships appeared?” Jonathan asked Barrick.

The telepath waited a moment before speaking again. “The others are arriving, yes... apparently, they’re activating their particle beams before passing through the Slipstream, so that they emerge with the beams fully active. They’re detonating the nukes with the weapons.”

Jonathan nodded slowly. “Maybe they hadn’t intended to sacrifice that first ship after all, Wethersfield. Maybe they sent it through as a guinea pig, unsure of what awaited on the other side. And it managed to get a transmission back to its friends before its untimely demise. Barrick, how many enemy ships do we have? Did the mines get any of the newcomers?”

“No,” Barrick said. “All six remaining enemy vessels have passed through unscathed. They’ve set a course for B2.”

“So much for Admiral Ford’s newfangled mines,” Jonathan said. “You say six, Barrick? Five dart ships and one capital ship?”

“Yes,” Barrick confirmed.

“All right,” Jonathan said. “Time to set the ball in motion. Continue along our current trajectory and have Valor transmit the planned message.”

Valor was to claim that an Elk uprising had retaken the Talon, and the crew had made a break for the Slipstream but the humans had refused to let them go without a fight.

“Communication in progress...” Barrick said.

“How do we know Valor will transmit what we told him to?” Wethersfield said.

“We don’t.” Jonathan wished Wethersfield would map the alien language faster. The sooner the United Systems could negate the need for the telepath, the better. Unfortunately, Wethersfield still insisted that AI-assisted translations were a year away.

Jonathan glanced nervously at the pit that held the alien crew. He wasn’t sure what kind of data the aliens had gathered during their guided tour into United Systems territory. At the very least, Valor had collected ship visuals and heat signatures, their communication frequencies, and the layouts and locations of all United Systems bases and colonies between Vega 951 and Beta Ursae Majoris. Basically a treasure trove of damaging information that could help the invaders secure the outlying systems very quickly. Valor could be sharing the data with the Raakarr at that very moment, and no one in the United Systems would even know it.

“They’re not replying,” Barrick said. “I don’t think they’re going to fall for it.”

“They’ll fall for it,” Jonathan said. Assuming Valor sent what we hope he sent. “Bane should have detected our gamma ray signal by now.”

“Yes,” Barrick said. “Otter tells me the Halberd is accelerating to perform the planned attack run. They’ve fired kinetic kills, and unleashed a Viper volley at us.”

The proximity fuses of the kinetic kills were set way too high to cause any damage, but to an outside observer it would look like the missiles struck the Talon. And the laser volley was at the lowest power, enough to dent the Talon’s hull and no more. The whole thing was basically a glorified light show.

“The Talon is venting the planned material from the hangar bay,” Barrick said.

Jonathan nodded. The ‘planned material’ was meant to emulate debris, and included garbage, supplies for the Raakarr equivalent of 3D printers, and organic matter. The latter likely came from the surviving Elk faction members still imprisoned aboard the Talon. Jonathan had heard rumors that Valor had given up a few of those Elk crew members to the United Systems for study, but Levieson neither confirmed nor denied those rumors.

“Have we cut power to the particle beam and engines?” Jonathan asked.

“We have,” Barrick replied.

To the enemy the Talon would appear like it had just been disabled. At least, that was what Jonathan hoped. Valor seemed confident that the altered heat signatures would convey the necessary ruse. Of course, the enemy might not actually believe it: they would know of humanity’s ability for cunning and subterfuge by then, especially after the battle in the Elder galaxy. And while they could not know humans were aboard the Talon and advising the alien captain, they might suspect it.

“The Halberd is breaking away,” Barrick said. “Accelerating on a perpendicular course to the incoming enemy, as planned. It’s firing the throwaway mortars at them.”

“The Stalwart and Fade?” Jonathan asked.

“Drifting in place ten thousand klicks off starboard,” Barrick said. “Both have left long debris trails.”

Similar to the Talon’s ejecta, the “debris” was composed of garbage, spare parts, and bioprinted limbs. Atmospheric vents aboard both vessels piped oxygen into hangar bays left open to space in order to simulate breaches. The two vessels were running at their lowest possible power levels, with all external lights deactivated. Limping along like vessels damaged beyond repair.

“The Halberd is adjusting course,” Barrick said. “Swinging back toward the enemy.”

Jonathan had instructed the Halberd to fly by the enemy ships, with specific orders to remain well outside their particle beam range.

“Estimated time until main flotilla is within firing range of the Talon?” Jonathan asked.

“Two minutes,” Barrick replied.

thirteen

Jonathan intertwined the fingers of his two gloves and squeezed.

Can we pull it off?

“The capital ship is launching fighters to intercept the Halberd,” Barrick said.

“Are any of the main vessels otherwise breaking away to pursue the Halberd?” Jonathan asked.

“No,” Barrick said. “At least not yet.”

The Halberd had orders to adjust its course to maintain that wide berth during its flyby. The goal was to draw away the enemy fighters. It seemed to be working.

“Do we know if they’ve launched all of their fighters?”

“Otter counts thirty-six of them,” Barrick replied. “But he also tells me capital ships can hold anywhere between thirty and fifty fighters, depending on configuration, so that might not be all of them.”

“How long until the enemy fleet is within range of the nuke rings?” Jonathan asked.

“One minute, fifty seconds,” Barrick said.

Jonathan believed the enemy would fire upon the Talon, Stalwart and Fade, if only to ensure the respective vessels were truly dead in space. It was what Jonathan himself would have done if he were the enemy commander. 

To prevent that from happening, the ships had launched rings of protective nukes before the enemy had emerged, creating two layers the foe would have to eliminate before they could reach the supposedly lifeless craft. It had been a fine balancing act, deciding on how many nukes to place. Jonathan needed just enough to force every single enemy into firing its particle beam, but not so many that the aliens would be completely deterred.

“The navigation systems on the first smart nukes are activating,” Barrick said. “The weapons are accelerating toward the incoming ships.”

Jonathan nodded. He bit his lower lip as the tense seconds ticked past.

“The closest dart ship fired its particle beam,” Barrick said. “It was able to take down two of the nukes... the second and third ships just fired their own beams. Now the fourth.”

Jonathan impatiently thrummed his gloved fingers on his leg assembly. “What about the fifth and sixth?”

“They haven’t activated their own beams yet.”

The Raakarr particle beams required a full two minutes to recharge after firing. Jonathan had banked his hopes on all enemy craft firing at the nuke decoys, giving him a window of opportunity to attack while the foes were defenseless.

“They might intend to dodge,” Wethersfield said.

“They’re making minor course adjustments,” Barrick said. “It appears they do intend to dodge.”

“Don’t want to risk coming at us entirely defenseless,” Wethersfield said.

“We have to move in,” Jonathan said. “Barrick, power on.”

Similar to the recharge interval, the particle weapon also needed a full two minutes to activate from a cold start. But Jonathan didn’t intend to wait that long.

“Set an intercept course with the closest dart ship,” Jonathan said. “Preferably one waiting for its beam to recharge.”

“It has been done,” Barrick replied. “The Stalwart and Fade are powering up, too, it seems. They’ve launched mortars in an attempt to herd the ships into the nukes. With luck, the remaining two vessels will engage their beams.”

“No point maintaining radio silence,” Jonathan said. Via his helmet aReal he re-activated the remote comm nodes, and the tactical display once more overlaid his vision.

“Bane,” Jonathan said. “See if you can herd them toward us.”

“On it,” Bane replied. “By the way, we received a communication from Admiral Ford. She has ordered the Talon to return imm—”

“Not now, Bane,” Jonathan said.

On the display, he watched as the Halberd altered its trajectory once more to swerve closer to the incoming alien ships.

When the enemy was almost within particle beam range, Jonathan spoke.

“Fire two nukes and break away,” he said. “Target the two enemy vessels that haven’t used their particle beams yet.”

During the initial flight to the Slipstream, the Stalwart, Fade and Halberd had each retrofitted two Dragonflies with nuclear warheads, for a total of six. Those six shuttles had been docked aboard the Talon, and Jonathan watched as the blue dots representing them launched from the hangar bay. They would function the same as smart nukes.

“Let’s see how well the enemy responds to this little surprise,” Jonathan said.

The Talon swerved away from the enemy. 

“The enemy fighters have engaged the Halberd,” Bane said. “I’ve launched two Avenger squads to counter. And point-defenses are firing at full bore.”

“Hang in there...” Jonathan said. “Barrick, have Valor fire the next four nukes. Target the remaining ships.”

“Done,” Barrick said. “Thirty seconds until flyby.”

Jonathan watched the yellow dots representing the nuke-laden Dragonflies fan outward from the Talon and toward the enemy.

“The final two ships are firing their particle beams,” Barrick said. “We lost the two initial Dragonflies.”

“Stalwart and Fade,” Jonathan transmitted. “Send two more nukes at those ships.”

“You got it,” Captain Chopra replied.

One of the enemy ships broke away from the pack, obviously intending to flee. A dart ship.

“Barrick, I want the Talon to track that dart ship,” Jonathan said. “Stay with it. Keep our nose pointed at it.”

“Decelerating to track fleeing ship,” Barrick said.

On the tactical display, the next wave of Dragonflies closed with the enemy. The yellow dots winked out as the red dots overlapped.

“We have multiple detonations,” Barrick said.

“Tell me we got them,” Jonathan said.

“Otter tells me two of the vessels appear to be severely damaged,” Barrick said. “They’re dead in space. The third, the capital ship, is breaking away. It looks like we took out its particle beam weapon.”

The nukes from the Stalwart and Fade arrived.

“Two more enemy disabled,” Barrick said. “And the fleeing dart ship is approaching the closest points of its flyby.”

“Keep our nose pointed at it,” Jonathan said.

“Particle beam is online,” Barrick said.

“Are we in range of the fleeing ship?” Jonathan asked.

“We are,” Barrick replied.

“Fire.”

The red dot representing the ship vanished from the display.

“Enemy target has been torn in half,” Barrick said.

On the display, one of the blue dots trailing the Talon had also disappeared almost simultaneously. The Fade.

“Chopra, status on the Fade?” Jonathan asked.

“They’re gone,” Captain Chopra replied. “Apparently the particle weapon of the fleeing ship just recharged. They managed to get off a shot before the Talon fired. I’m sorry.”

Another nuke, launched from the Halberd, impacted the retreating capital ship.

“The capital ship has powered down,” Barrick said. “They’ve taken major damage from the second nuke.”

Three of the five red dots representing the enemy ships winked out.

“What just happened?” Jonathan said.

“The enemy Raakarr self-destructed,” Barrick replied.

The two remaining red dots appeared to be accelerating toward the Slipstream.

“Two of the dart ships are turning back,” Jonathan said.

“Otter just informed me of this, yes,” Barrick said.

“I thought you said we disabled them?” Jonathan asked.

“We did,” Barrick said. “Apparently only the nose sections, including the particle beam weapons, are damaged.”

“All right,” Jonathan said.

“I guess that means we won,” Wethersfield said.

“Bane, status on the enemy fighters?” Jonathan sent.

“Most of them have powered down and are drifting in place,” Bane replied. “But a few are still attacking.”

“Those would be the manned fighters,” Barrick interjected. “Otter says now that the capital ship is gone, we should be able to override the binding protocol and take control of the autonomous units.”

“Do it,” Jonathan said. “Before the two fleeing ships do so.”

“The Talon has control of the unmanned fighters,” Barrick announced a moment later.

“Redirect them to destroy the manned fighters still harassing the Halberd,” Jonathan said. “Bane, tell your own Avengers to stand down. Let the enemy fight it out.”

“Done,” Bane replied.

In a few moments, Barrick said: “All manned enemy fighters have been destroyed.”

“Recall the autonomous fighters,” Jonathan said. “Members of B3, mark the units as friendlies.”

The red dots representing the remaining enemy fighters turned blue.

“Barrick, I want the alien fighters to assume a defensive formation around the Talon,” Jonathan said. “How long will their propellant last? Will we be able to restock them with supplies from the Talon?”

“According to Valor,” Barrick replied. “The propellant is self-regenerating.”

“Of course,” Jonathan said. “Damn these Raakarr and their unwillingness to share their tech. One question, now that we’ve captured them, is there any way we can lose control of the fighters going forward?”

Barrick took a moment to reply. “Apparently once the link is established with a Raakarr vessel, it can’t be broken unless that ship relinquishes control, either willingly or by being destroyed. Unless of course the fighters travel beyond range.”

“And what’s the range?” Jonathan asked.

“Basically an entire star system. But if we send the fighters through a Slipstream and don’t join them shortly, obviously they’ll unlink.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “Bane, Chopra, turn back and collect any survivors from the wreckage of the Fade. Bane, now you can tell me about that message you received from the admiral during the battle.”

“She ordered the Talon to proceed toward the main battle fleet B1 at full speed. You were to abandon the escorts.”

“I trust you informed her that our communications were offline at the time?” Jonathan said.

“I did.”

“Good,” Jonathan said. “Barrick, have Valor set a course for B1 and crank our speed up to full while I inform Ford we’re happy to obey the order. “

“Valor seems to have different ideas...” Barrick said.

Jonathan glanced at the tactical display and saw that the Talon had fully reversed course, and was racing back toward the Slipstream, pursuing the fleeing dart ships. Both of the enemy vessels must have had some engine damage, because the Talon was slowly gaining.

“Order Valor to let them go,” Jonathan said.

“Valor isn’t answering,” Barrick replied.

“We have specific orders to return to the rest of the fleet,” Jonathan said.

“Still nothing,” Barrick said.

“He behaved this way once before,” Jonathan said. “Tell him I won’t stand for it again.”

“I’m sorry, Captain, he won’t listen,” Barrick replied.

“Bane, target the engines of the Talon,” Jonathan instructed.

“Targeted,” Bane answered.

“Tell Valor to stand down, Barrick,” Jonathan said. “Or I will disable the Talon.”

“Valor says you wouldn’t dare,” Barrick replied.

“Bane, fire a weak Viper pulse off the starboard bow.”

The Halberd fired. The Talon didn’t change course.

“Tell Valor if he doesn’t obey within the next ten seconds, our alliance is off,” Jonathan said. “The fleet won’t proceed any farther, and we’ll never launch the planet killer against the Elk colony world. Tell him the Halberd and Stalwart are completely prepared to take out the Talon, and they’re only waiting on my command.”

The alien vessel continued onward for several anxious moments.

Then Barrick said: “We’re decelerating. He’s turning around.”

“Good,” Jonathan said.

“But he promises he’ll remember this,” Barrick added.

“I’m counting on it,” Jonathan said.

fourteen

The main fleet broke away from the Slipstream, intending to intercept the Builder, harvester and destroyers from B3 at the outermost gas giant of the system, known as Achilles, where they would assume a geosynchronous orbit behind the moon Achilles I. The fleet left behind twenty destroyers to protect the Builder working on the return Gate at 1-Vega.

The Talon was estimated to reach Achilles I in two and a half days, roughly half a day after the main fleet arrived from 1-Vega. Jonathan spent the time in his berth aboard the alien starship. He had downloaded the crew manifest of the Fade, and spent his time reading the public profiles of each of the lost crew members. Before the mission was over, he had no doubts whatsoever that he would have many more such manifests to review.

“Do you need psychological counseling?” Wethersfield asked at one point during the second day, when the Artificial had come to visit the captain and discovered him sitting against one wall, fully suited and staring off into space.

“It’s a constant battle,” Jonathan said. “Wrestling with my demons. Just when I think I’ve won, something happens that makes them come right back again to haunt me.”

“You feel guilt over what happened to the Fade?”

“Sure,” Jonathan said.

“It’s not your fault.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Jonathan said. “You’d think I’d know better by now, not to beat myself up like this. I’m going to have more deaths on my conscience very soon now, after all. It’s just something I have to live with. And I’m not talking human deaths alone.”

“You grieve for the enemy fallen?” Wethersfield seemed puzzled.

“I grieve for those Raakarr that will fall,” Jonathan said. “And I’m not talking about those in their military. I couldn’t care less about the deaths of the bastards who attacked us. What I’m concerned about is the Raakarr colony. I’m trying to justify the planned deaths of five million inhabitants. Some days I succeed. Some days I don’t.”

“Today is one of the days where you fail?”

Jonathan nodded.

“Take heart,” Wethersfield said. “If it was a colony of five million humans, I doubt the enemy would spare them. We already saw what they did to our other colonies.”

“Humanity is supposed to be above that, though,” Jonathan said.

“Are we?” Wethersfield replied. “If there were any other way, I would agree with you. But we need to send a message to these Elk. They cannot flagrantly invade our space. And that doing so has consequences.”

“I just wish we could find a less populated world,” Jonathan said.

“Consider, if you will,” Wethersfield said. “That there are nearly one hundred eight billion humans in the galaxy. And according to Valor, there are an equal number of Raakarr. Five million lives is literally a drop in a bucket. Not even 0.005% of their population.”

Jonathan sighed. “Sometimes I wish I had a mind like yours. One that could easily focus on the rational and logical side of things, and program away the emotional. If I felt too much guilt over something, I could just self-edit that part of my mind and remove the feeling.”

“Self-editing tools like the one you describe are in fact available to humans,” Wethersfield said.

Jonathan laughed. “I suppose so. But I’ve never been a big fan of neural alteration. Come on, let’s go to the bridge. I’m growing weary of these surroundings, and could use the exercise.”

THE TALON RENDEZVOUSED with the rest of the fleet on schedule. The slower alien fighter contingent arrived several hours later. After some debate with Ford and the other captains, the admiral ruled the fighters safe and allowed them to cluster around the Talon.

Delayed because of their rescue efforts, the Halberd and Stalwart finally arrived a day and a half after the alien fighters. They carried the survivors of the Fade aboard. They rejoined the fleet at Achilles I so that there were now two battle units in play within the system: B1, behind the aforementioned moon, and the new B2, composed of those twenty-odd ships left behind at 1-Vega hundreds of millions of kilometers away.

B1 launched telemetry drones in high orbit around the gas giant. Several repeater drones were strung out between them to account for the interference caused by the intense radiation released by the giant.

Those telemetry drones reported the arrival of new heat signatures a few hours later.

Jonathan watched his tactical display, and over a span of two minutes twenty-six new dots appeared in the system, sourced from 2-Vega.

“I’m counting twenty-six targets,” Jonathan said. “That’s two more than Valor claimed earlier.”

“Yes,” Barrick said. “The extra two weren’t detected in the preliminary snapshot their probe captured from the Slipstream. Perhaps the heat signatures were obscured by ships in front of them.”

Jonathan frowned. “Wethersfield, they can’t obscure their ships like that from us anymore, because of the telemetry drones we’ve set up throughout the system. Right?”

“That’s not entirely true,” Wethersfield interjected. “While it is difficult, given our current system-wide sensor grid, it isn’t entirely impossible, given some creative thermo masking. Though admittedly, they would have had to have known where all of our telemetry drones resided in advance.”

“So we’ll assume it’s impossible,” Jonathan said. “Barrick, give me a breakdown on the ship types.”

“The first twenty-four match up with the preliminary snapshot,” Barrick said. “Two pyramid ships, five capital ships, three laser ships, and fourteen dart ships. As for the new ships... they are a new type.”

“A new type?” Jonathan asked.

“Valor calls them ‘Reach’ vessels.”

“Reach...” Jonathan said.

“Yes,” Barrick told him. “That’s the best interpretation of the three-dimensional point cloud Valor projected in my head. As for the actual shape, which he transmitted afterward... it reminds me of a hand mirror. But instead of a reflective surface installed in the flat, oval head, there are long metallic threads criss-crossing from one side to the other, forming a grid that can be used to triple the effective particle beam range of nearby ships. It has no weapons capability on its own, and usually operates in tandem with pyramid ships, which fire their four beams one after the other through the grid portion. The range-tripling effect only works when the Reach resides within ten thousand kilometers from the firing ship.”

“So we have two Reach-class ships, one for each pyramid,” Jonathan said.

“That’s correct,” Barrick replied.

Jonathan tapped in Levieson. “Have you ever heard of a Reach?”

“A what?”

“Apparently it’s a vessel that can triple the particle beam range of nearby Raakarr. Works in tandem with other vessels, usually pyramid ships.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Levieson said.

“You’re telling me our Zarafe allies haven’t shared all the ship types we’re liable to face out here?” Jonathan asked.

“No,” Levieson said. “The Zarafe haven’t revealed any other ship classes beyond the basic dart, laser, capital, pyramid, and enemy fighter we’ve already encountered. Though I would say it’s a fair assumption the aliens have thousands of different classes, given how many unique models the United Systems has in its inventory.”

“Right,” Jonathan said. “Well, looks like we’re going to have to modify some of our planned tactics, because the two pyramids out there are joined by two Reach-class, range-tripling ships.”

“I saw the pair of extraneous heat signatures,” Levieson said. “And was just about to ask you about them. I appreciate the clarification. I’ll inform the admiral. In the meantime, see if you can find out if there are any other ship types we should expect in the days to come.” The vice admiral closed the connection.

“Barrick, I need to know what other ship types we might face in the next systems,” Jonathan said.

“Valor says he’ll tell us as we encounter them,” Barrick responded.

“Not good enough,” Jonathan said. “It behooves him to share the classes sooner rather than later, you know that right? In the name of furthering our alliance...”

A moment later Barrick said: “He refuses. He says he’ll tell us about all Raakarr vessel classes only when we reveal every human ship type.”

Jonathan tapped in Levieson and reported what Barrick had told him.

“That’s too bad,” Levieson said. “Because of course we’re not going to reveal all our ship classes. All right. Thanks for trying.” The vice admiral disconnected.

Jonathan spent a few minutes observing the slow advance of the twenty-six ships on his aReal. The enemy set a course for 1-Vega, and the twenty-odd ships of B2 operating there. Apparently they hadn’t spotted the numerous telemetry drones scattered about the system, nor the extra numbers orbiting Achilles, the hiding place of B1. Or if they had, they weren’t paying them any heed. They were perhaps launching their own tiny telemetry drone equivalents to survey the system. Jonathan didn’t expect B1’s hiding place to remain secret for long.

Jonathan programmed his aReal to notify him if the enemy changed course and then he returned to his berthing area.

A day later he received notice that the fleet had changed directions for Achilles I. The ruse was already up.

The Elk really want that planet killer.

Assuming the newcomers actually were members of the Elk faction. Jonathan still wasn’t sure whether this was some big ruse on the part of Valor. The incoming ships could be Zarafe for all he knew. He had given specific instructions to the Centurions, Wethersfield, and Barrick: if Jonathan were killed by Valor or any of his underlings, the robots and the telepath were to stage an uprising and make their way to the bridge—if they weren’t already there at the time of Jonathan’s demise—and attempt to terminate the bridge crew. He doubted any of them would succeed of course, but they had to try. Hopefully the resulting chaos from such an attempt would counter any further treachery on the part of the Talon. The orders would probably prove unnecessary, but Jonathan wanted a dead man’s switch in place nonetheless. 

A few minutes after the “direction change” notification came up, Jonathan received a comm request from Levieson. It was tagged fleet-wide. Jonathan accepted.

“Okay Captains,” Levieson sent. “The Admiral wants to execute Plan D, Option 2.”

Admiral Ford had sent out different combat plans and formations days ago, when the Talon first returned the preliminary snapshot of the enemy. She knew of course that battle spaces changed in realtime, therefore as any good fleet commander would do, she asked the individual captains to apply intelligent modifications to the plan as necessary, while still observing any overriding instructions from her.

The current battle plan contained provisions to account for the range increases brought on by the Reach classes. He glanced at his tactical map. The two appropriate ships were marked with big Rs on the display. They were located roughly in the center of the incoming red dots, each one near a pyramid ship, labeled P.

Jonathan reread the battle plan and then gave the Talon’s instructions to Valor via Barrick.

Then he settled inside his psi-shielded tent.

It would be a long while before battle was joined.

fifteen

As per the plan, the majority of B1 plotted a course away from Achilles I, leaving behind the Builder, which would stay in cover behind the moon with a small escort of five warships, forming B3.

The thirty-five ships remaining in B1 maneuvered into high orbit above the gas giant and spent the next half day sluggishly crossing to the far side.

At that point the enemy was only a day away, and once more Battle Unit B1 divided. Fifteen ships would remain behind in orbit above the gas giant, forming Battle Unit B4 led by the vice admiral’s craft the Leviathan, with the Talon included among their ranks.

Meanwhile B1, commanded by Admiral Ford’s Renegade, would escort the destroyer that harbored the planet killer—the Dammerung—away with the last twenty ships on a course toward the outer system.

As expected, the enemy fleet altered trajectory to intercept B1. The lure of the planet killer proved too great.

“If there’s one fatal flaw possessed by our enemy, it’s that they’re predictable,” Jonathan said.

“Be careful not to become complacent regarding an enemy,” Wethersfield said. “Usually when one lowers one’s guard, and expects the enemy to do what he has always done, that’s when the enemy turns around and strikes.”

“Sun Tzu’s The Art of War?”

“Wethersfield’s,” the Artificial replied.

When the enemy fleet was twelve standard hours away from B4, thirty degrees to starboard and twenty-two degrees declination, Levieson gave the order to begin accelerating to escape velocity. It would take B4 roughly seven hours to leave behind the immense gravity well of the gas giant, and another five to intercept the enemy.

Those seven hours passed uneventfully. When finally the radiation and gravity of Achilles was behind them, B4 plotted a direct course toward the enemy fleet, which was now only fifteen degrees to starboard. At the same time, B1, fifty million kilometers away by then, began decelerating to initiate the planned pincer maneuver.

As the opposing fleet approached flyby range, Barrick said: “Nine ships are breaking off to deal with us. We have a laser ship, a capital ship, a pyramid, a Reach class, and five dart ships.”

Jonathan glanced at the tactical display of his aReal. Those nine ships were labeled E2, while the portion that continued on toward the planet killer was marked E1.

“We’ll have to deal with E2 before we can initiate any sort of pincer maneuver,” Levieson said over the B4 comm band. “Let’s start with that laser ship. My tactical officer is transmitting a firing solution now. We’re going to fire multiple waves of missiles targeting the laser, which we predict will begin breaking into its usual five firing segments. Those missile waves are going to travel on wide trajectories, giving fifty thousand kilometer berths to the laser ship segments, with each wave targeting a different lens segment. The missiles will start closing in when they’re roughly thirty degrees to starboard from their individual targets.

“In the meantime, we’re going to have to give that long-range laser something else to fire at, given its effective range is a hundred thousand klicks. Saber, Harbinger, that’ll be your job. We’re launching a screen of Avengers and mortars now. Fall in behind them. Talon, give us ten of your alien fighters to augment the screen.”

“You got it,” Jonathan said. “Are you giving me a mandate to join the Harbinger?”

“That’s a negative,” Levieson said. “The Talon is to stay back and avoid major fighting, as per the battle plan dictated by Admiral Ford.”

“Never hurts to try, right?” Jonathan said. “By the way, you’re aware that the charged field generators on the Avengers won’t protect them from that laser, right?”

“I’m well aware,” Levieson replied. “But I want them there as a backup. Saber, Harbinger, proceed. Remaining members of B4, drop to half speed.”

“Barrick,” Jonathan said. “Order Valor to dispatch ten of the alien fighters. Have them fall in behind the respective screen of Avenger fighters and mortars.”

Jonathan tapped in Levieson on a private line. “Vice admiral, might I suggest sending nukes in the place of the Saber and Harbinger?”

“We have a limited supply of nukes,” Levieson replied.

“We have a limited supply of ships, too,” Jonathan said.

“Just the same, I believe we’ll be able to eliminate the laser segments faster with ships,” Levieson said.

“How about considering kinetic kills instead, at the very least?” Jonathan asked.

“I’ve already made up my mind.” Levieson terminated the private connection.

On the tactical display, Jonathan saw that the nine ships forming E2 were already decelerating, allowing the laser ship to move forward. It was separating into its usual five lens segments as part of its firing preparations.

The minutes ticked past. The large rocks that were the mortars drifted forward. The alien fighters joined the Avengers in taking cover behind those rocks. Sheltered beyond them, the Harbinger and Saber traveled in single file, with the Saber in the lead.

The eight ships of E2 halted at the five hundred thousand kilometer mark from B4, while the segments of the laser ship continued forward, the individual pieces stopping at intervals of a hundred thousand kilometers. Once the lead segment reached a distance of one hundred thousand kilometers from the Harbinger, that laser would open fire.

“The segments appear to be escorted by alien fighters,” Barrick said.

Jonathan saw the red dots that had begun to appear around the indicators on the tactical map as the enemy fighters came into the targeting resolution range of the Saber. “I see them.”

“The laser is opening fire,” Barrick announced.

“What? They’re still two hundred thousand klicks out,” Jonathan said.

“I realize that,” Barrick replied. “Apparently they want to chip away at the mortars the entire way, letting the damage slowly build up, I suppose.”

“Wethersfield,” Jonathan said. “Taking into account the increasing intensity of the laser the closer they get, how long until the mortar shield is useless?”

“It won’t last longer than fifty five thousand klicks away from the leading lens,” Wethersfield replied. “Assuming the laser fires repeatedly at the same spot.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to give them some other scraps to fire at,” Jonathan said. He considered for a moment which of the fighters were more valuable to them, the Avengers, or the alien variants. He decided that the Avengers would be more useful in the long run, considering their particle beam protection.

“Levieson,” Jonathan sent. “I’m sending the alien fighters out from cover so that the laser has something else to shoot at.”

“Negative,” Levieson replied. “Just because I allowed you to send the alien fighters isn’t a commission to waste them. But I do agree the enemy needs something else to shoot at. I’m ordering the Avengers from cover.”

Jonathan bit his tongue, and watched as the blue dots representing the Avengers moved out from behind the protection of the mortar mass. The laser continued to fire in ten second intervals.

“They’re ignoring the Avengers,” Barrick said after a few minutes. “And continuing to pound the rock mass... the lead lens segment is decelerating. But the enemy fighters escorting it are continuing toward our incoming vessels.”

After another few minutes, Barrick said: “The laser has penetrated the mortar shield and the Saber took a non-breaching hit. The Saber is rotating to bring its starboard side to bear, to prevent the enemy laser from striking the same spot next time, I’m guessing.”

“That’s all they can really do,” Jonathan said. “How far are they from the lens segment?”

“Fifty thousand kilometers,” Barrick said.

Ten minutes later, the enemy fighters reached attack range, and the Avengers engaged.

“Jonathan,” Levieson said. “Get the Talon’s ten alien fighters to help out.”

Finally. Jonathan relayed the command to Valor.

Some of the enemy fighters broke away from the Avengers and closed on the two vessels that lurked behind the mortars. The point-defenses of the Harbinger and Saber kicked in, their mag-rails firing defensive slugs.

By the time the Harbinger and Saber reached Viper range with the lead segment, both vessels had multiple breaches, the Harbinger from the fighters, and the Saber from the long-range laser. When the laser segment rotated its aim away to fire at the first wave of incoming missiles that the fleet had fired earlier, both vessels maneuvered out from behind the cover of the mortars and unleashed their Vipers, destroying the laser segment. The Avengers and allied fighters finished off the first wave of enemy fighters.

Four laser segments remained, each with their own wave of escorting fighters, spread out across the remaining four hundred thousand kilometers. The Harbinger and Saber continued forward to provide an ongoing distraction for the remaining missile waves, which were still continuing toward their targets, and the two ships proceeded to take out the remaining three segments in a similar manner. Sometimes the missiles struck the distracted lens segments first, sometimes the two ships or their fighters did the job. Either way, by the time the fourth segment disintegrated, both ships were badly damaged and barely limping along.

“All right Harbinger, Saber,” Levieson transmitted. “Decelerate and reverse course. Launch a final volley of mortars, trailed by missiles and fighters. Let the missiles and fighters do their jobs of taking out that fifth and final lens segment. Remaining members of B4, proceed. Talon, stay where you are.”

Jonathan sighed.

We’re going to need all the ships we can get out there. Even the Talon.

The remaining eight members of the enemy unit E2 had already accelerated, and were proceeding toward the slowing Harbinger and Saber.

In nine minutes the Avengers reached the final lens segment and provided enough of a distraction to the waiting enemy fighters for the missiles to home in and eliminate the laser. But then the rest of E2 arrived, and the Avengers, along with the advance Talon fighters, were quickly overwhelmed by more fighters launched by the pyramid and capital ships. All of them were lost.

Good thing Levieson didn’t make me deploy all of the Talon’s fighters.

B4 proceeded to join combat with E2. Said space battle consisted of a series of flybys, usually led by a barrage of missiles and mortars from the human side, followed by an exchange of lasers and particle beams when the range closed. Each pass resulted in at least one casualty per side. Sometimes a ship was split in half. Sometimes merely disabled. The Reach was employed to devastating effect, and for the most part allowed the enemy to eliminate any missiles and mortars long before said weapons reached their targets. It also gave a distance advantage over the medium range United Systems lasers, so that overall, for every one ship the enemy lost, at least one member of B4 was disabled or destroyed as well.

Jonathan occasionally diverted his attention toward B1 on his tactical display, because by that point the first enemy unit, E1, had intercepted B1. So much for the planned pincer maneuver. The display was lagged slightly, thanks to the signal range involved. B1’s battle also unfolded in a series of flybys, with B1 faring little better than B4. The United Systems ships eventually began to utilize the Dammerung as a shield, gathering behind the destroyer, as the enemy seemed reluctant to fire on the vessel—obviously the aliens desired to capture the planet killer. Even so, human ships were still lost during the flybys when they emerged to fire lasers at the enemy. On the plus side, B1 eliminated the enemy laser vessels early on in their own engagement.

Jonathan watched it all unfold helplessly. His strategic mind came up with numerous offensives and counteroffensives, but the fleet was not his to command.

During the battle, B4 and E2 slowly drifted toward the Talon’s position during the repeated flybys, so that their center point was roughly a hundred thousand klicks distant. By then B4 had been whittled down to seven active ships, while on the enemy side, only the pyramid ship and its Reach class escort remained. That pair was proving difficult for the human fleet to surmount, with those four particle-beam “stilts” mounted underneath the pyramid used to devastating effect in combination with the range boost of the Reach. As if to prove that point, in the next flyby the pyramid vessel disabled another United Systems ship via the Reach.

Jonathan’s attention was drawn to the farther battle group B1 on the tactical display. 3-Vega had a very eccentric orbit around the star, and because of that, B1 and E1 were only fifty thousand kilometers away from said Slipstream. The wormhole hadn’t played into the admiral’s strategy whatsoever, because it led into the heart of the Tau Ceti star.

That was why Jonathan was surprised when he noticed red dots appearing from said Slipstream.

“Barrick,” Jonathan said. “I’m seeing unrecognized heat signatures at 3-Vega. Tell me its some kind of United Systems software error, and that the Talon isn’t reading anything.”

“Apparently it’s no error,” Barrick said. “Otter just reported them. Eight dart ships, and another two capital ships. They’re on a course to intercept B1 and the Dammerung.”

The tactical display updated so that the new enemy unit was labeled E3.

“Looks like the enemy is the one performing the pincer maneuver on us,” Wethersfield said.

“So much for well-laid plans,” Jonathan said. “How is this even possible? They hid in the core of Tau Ceti’s star?”

“I doubt it,” Wethersfield said. “My guess is, the Elder changed the endpoint.”

“And why the hell would the Elder do that to us?”

Barrick was the one who answered. “Likely the Elk Raakarr negotiated a deal with the Elder to change the location of that Slipstream many months ago when we were all still in their galaxy.”

“Again, why would the Elder agree to do that?”

“Perhaps they realized what we had planned to do,” Barrick said. “Remember, our mission was to send a planet killer through to detonate the star on the other side. Maybe the Elk warned them that we might try something like that again, and negotiated to have the endpoint changed to one of their own systems.”

“Wonderful,” Jonathan said. “Ask Valor if he knows anything about that. Specifically, where 3-Vega actually leads.”

“He says he doesn’t know,” Barrick replied a moment later. “The Elder would have changed the endpoint after he had already defected to our side.”

“And none of his sleeper cells have contacted him since with relevant information?”

“They have not,” Barrick said. “But the key word, I think, is sleeper. If any of the hidden Zarafe attempted outgoing communications, they would’ve probably been tracked. Think of the moles the United Systems has in the Sino-Korean government, and how furtive their communications have to be.”

“Our moles use digital drops piggybacking on the encrypted communications of other inconspicuous apps. A room in a virtual reality social network, for example.”

“Yes, via the comm node network forming the InterGalNet on our side of the galaxy,” Barrick said. “But so far, we haven’t come across any intact Raakarr probes forming their equivalent of the InterGalNet.”

“Well whatever the case,” Wethersfield said. “It is prudent that B4 finishes up quickly and rejoins the main fleet as soon as possible.”

“I agree.” Jonathan glanced at the closer battle taking place between B4 and E2. The two enemy vessels were decelerating, preparing for the next flyby. Their range was rapidly approaching the seventy thousand klick mark from the Talon.

Jonathan brought up an image he had recorded earlier, courtesy of the external cameras aboard one of the telemetry drones. It displayed a Reach vessel. Like Barrick had said, it looked oddly like a giant hand mirror. He zoomed in on the head portion: that grid of interlocking metallic wires that acted as a range boost to the enemy particle beam weapon.

“Barrick,” Jonathan said. “I need you to ask Valor something for me. Regarding the capabilities of that Reach.”

He detailed his question and after a few seconds Barrick replied in the affirmative.

“Good,” Jonathan said. “Tell Valor to accelerate the Talon and prepare for an attack run. Leave behind our fighter escort. I want us traveling at full speed, and those fighters won’t be able to keep up.”

He remembered Levieson’s orders. The Talon is to stay back and avoid major fighting. Valor knew those orders, too, but apparently he was just as eager to join the fray, because the blue dot indicating the Talon on the tactical display began to update.

If Levieson orders me to return, I will return. But if he does not...

Sure enough, a few minutes later Levieson’s voice came over the comm.

“Jonathan, what are you doing?” the vice admiral sent. “You were not to engage.”

“I have a way to help,” Jonathan said. “With one flyby, we can eliminate that pyramid. The risk to the Talon will be minimal. You have to let me try.”

Levieson hesitated. “One flyby, you say?”

“That’s right.”

“All right,” Levieson said. “Just one. But if you mess this up, I’m placing someone else in command of the Talon.”

“Understood.” Assuming there was anything left of the Talon if Jonathan messed up.

The pyramid had its weapons currently pointed away from the Talon. B4 launched a wave of mortars and missiles to distract the ship, and a fresh squad of decelerating Avenger fighters gathered around the pyramid and the Reach as the two vessels ground to a halt before accelerating in the opposite direction to begin the next flyby. Enemy fighters swarmed against the Avengers in counter attacks.

The Talon was coming up fast behind the two enemies.

As the Talon approached to within fifteen thousand kilometers of the Reach, Jonathan thought of the question he had asked Valor.

“Does it matter which side one fire’s into the Reach?” Jonathan had said. “Or is the range boost effect strictly limited to one side?”

“Valor says you can fire from either side,” Barrick had replied.

Jonathan stared at the display.

“The pyramid ship is swiveling two of its particle beam stilts toward the Talon,” Barrick announced.

Jonathan nodded. The other two would be facing forward, to stave off the impending assault of missiles and mortars, and perhaps mag-rail slugs, which were too small to show up on the overhead map.

“Tell Valor to give me emergency speed, if the Talon is capable of it,” Jonathan said. 

“Apparently we’re already operating over the limit,” Barrick said. “But he’ll push what he can out of the engines.”

A moment later Barrick said: “The Talon just crossed the ten thousand kilometer mark from the Reach.”

“Fire particle beam,” Jonathan said. “And initiate a full dive at the same time. Get us out of the line of fire of those stilts!”

On the tactical display, the Talon moved downward on the Z plane; the red dot representing the pyramid vanished seconds later, leaving only the defenseless Reach.

“Our beam ripped deep into the hull of the pyramid,” Barrick said. “Tearing off one of the forward facing weapon stilts. The damage allowed a full mortar barrage to smash into the ship. It’s been obliterated.”

“Nicely done, Jonathan,” Levieson said.

“Thank you, sir,” Jonathan replied, though in truth he felt the congratulations were unwarranted. He knew he had gotten lucky: if the stilts on that pyramid had finished maneuvering into place, and fired, the Talon very likely would not exist at the moment. It had been a mistake to engage.

Well, we survived, and took out the enemy. Not going to beat myself up over it. Too much.

“The remaining enemy fighters are breaking away toward B1,” Barrick said.

Jonathan glanced at the tactical display and focused on B1.

By the looks of it, the new enemy unit, E3, had already initiated a flyby with B1. Apparently four dart ships had successfully disabled the engines of the Dammerung and grappled her. Those four ships were accelerating back toward 3-Vega, dragging the Dammerung along behind them, while the surviving pyramids, laser vessels, and other dart ships that formed the rest of the enemy fleet remained behind to harry B1.

“We’re losing our planet killer...” Jonathan said.

“The fleet can’t match their pace,” Wethersfield agreed.

Though B1 was accelerating at top speed toward the Dammerung, it was clear they wouldn’t make it before the captured vessel reached the Slipstream.

“Barrick,” Jonathan said. “Will those ships actually be able to drag the Dammerung through the Slipstream?”

“No,” Barrick replied.

“So what are they doing then?”

“In all honesty, I have no idea what they intend,” Barrick replied.

“Maybe they’ve discovered a way to change the properties of the Slipstream for a short period of time,” Wethersfield said. “Long enough to allow them to carry one of our vessels through. Or perhaps the Elder showed them how to do this.”

“Speculation...” Jonathan said.

“Yes,” Wethersfield agreed. “AIs are skilled at this.”

Jonathan tapped his lips. “They probably intend to fly by 3-Vega, and maybe force some of the pursuing members of B1 into the Slipstream along the way, destroying them in the process.”

“That may very well be the case,” Wethersfield said. “Either way, the Dammerung will have to self-destruct soon... to prevent the planet killer from falling into enemy hands.”

“Will they?” Jonathan said. “How do we know the Raakarr haven’t disabled all the reactor cores of the engines, either accidentally, or purposefully? Preventing a runaway chain reaction.”

“Then they could simply detonate the planet killer itself...” Wethersfield said.

“Good point. It’s too bad the Dammerung will only destroy the four Raakarr ships with them if it does that.”

Jonathan watched the display as the tense seconds ticked past, and the Dammerung steadily made its way toward 3-Vega. He kept expecting the blue dot to wink out, signifying its self-destruction and the end of the mission.

“Strange,” Barrick said. “The four ships towing the Dammerung are decelerating.”

“Why?”

“Wait... new heat signatures are emerging from 3-Vega,” Barrick said.

“Enemy reinforcements?” Jonathan’s tactical display hadn’t updated to reveal the new ships yet.

“Otter tells me the signatures are consistent with United Systems vessels,” Barrick replied.

“What the hell is going on?” Jonathan said.

The tactical display finally updated. New dots were appearing from 3-Vega, and sure enough they were all colored blue.

“Sir,” Wethersfield said. “It’s the Callaway.”

sixteen

Jonathan stared in disbelief. The label above the flagship in charge of the newly arrived vessels indeed read USS Callaway. “That can’t be Task Group 72.5. There are too many ships. I’m counting twenty of them.”

“It definitely appears to be the survivors of Task Group 72.5,” Wethersfield said. “However, they’ve made some new friends it would seem.”

The Callaway and its warships bore down on the Dammerung and the four dart ships. Dots representing missiles and mortars appeared ahead of them.

The dart ships initiated evasive maneuvers, dragging the Dammerung with them.

Five of the rear vessels in the incoming human fleet began to slow down, while the leading ships, including the Callaway, proceeded to fly by the targets. The four red dots representing the dart ships vanished.

“Guess we’re not losing our planet killer today after all,” Wethersfield said.

“Good morning,” Robert’s voice came over the comm, fleet-wide. “Need a little help?”

“Commander Cray,” Admiral Ford said. “Nice of you to join us.”

The five decelerating ships proceeded to grapple the Dammerung, and began to drag it safely away from 3-Vega. Meanwhile the Callaway and its escorts continued toward the remaining enemy to initiate a dual pincer maneuver with B4 and B1.

The battle was over in an hour. The combined United Systems fleet lost eight more ships, and when the last of the enemy was disabled, the alien craft chose self-destruction over capture. The Talon summoned the remaining enemy fighters to it, instructing them to destroy any manned variants along the way.

“Recover survivors,” Admiral Ford said over the comm. “And initiate repairs of disabled ships. Coordinate with Vice Admiral Levieson to share raw materials and workers as necessary. Vice Admiral, dispatch four ships to mine the entrance of 3-Vega and set up a watch. I’m convening a captains’ meeting at eighteen hundred tonight. We have a lot to talk about.”

JONATHAN TAPPED IN Commander Cray shortly after the admiral disconnected. “Welcome home, Commander. Impeccable timing, as always.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Robert replied. “It’s good to see you. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to find the fleet engaged in a full scale war with the Raakarr upon my return, but then again, I can’t say I’m all that surprised.”

“No,” Jonathan said. “The United Systems doesn’t take well to incursions in its space. Though I’m not sure I’d call it a full scale war, not yet. Though we’re damn close.”

“It sounds like the Raakarr attacked humanity first?”

“They did,” Jonathan said. “But we can get into that later. I’m sure the admiral is eager to chat with you.”

“She’s tapping in as we speak,” Robert said. “I’ll have to excuse myself, Captain. Let’s connect later.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “Until then.”

Jonathan returned to his berthing area and sheltered inside the psi-shielded tent while the Centurions assumed watch near the hatch. He removed his helmet, lay back on the thick pillow he needed to support his head while he wore that bulky suit, and closed his eyes, only intending to rest them, but he fell fast asleep.

He was awakened by the beeping of his aReal glasses beside him. Someone was trying to call him. The alert wouldn’t have sounded unless it was important. He fumbled for the glasses and put them on. The call was from Vice Admiral Levieson. According to the time display in the lower right, two hours had passed.

No wonder I feel so groggy.

“I just finished talking with the admiral,” Levieson said. “We’ve decided to reassign you to the Callaway.”

“Well that’s good news,” Jonathan said.

“Did I wake you?” Levieson said. “You sound groggy.”

“No, not at all,” Jonathan said, doing his best to sound wide awake.

“I almost want to keep you aboard the Talon,” Levieson continued. “But I believe you’ll be of best use aboard your own vessel. Therefore, effective immediately, the Callaway is yours. I’m also placing you in charge of the surviving members of Task Group 72.5, along with the vessels of 12.5.2, which are to be incorporated into 72.5.”

“12.5.2?” Jonathan said. “The missing task group?”

“Yes, they accompanied 72.5 back from the Elder galaxy,” Levieson said. “I’m sure Commander Cray will tell you all about it. While he was gone he had a few... well, I wouldn’t call them adventures, but let’s just say things didn’t quite go as planned. Now, as for the Talon, Bill Wethersfield will remain aboard along with the telepath. The alien vessel and its fighter escort will join 72.5, and remain under your direct command. You know the capabilities of these aliens better than anyone, and you’ve developed a bond of sorts with their captain. I believe the fit is good. You’ll continue to report to me, of course.”

“Thank you, Vice Admiral,” Jonathan said.

“You’re welcome,” Levieson returned. “Pack your things. You’re to shuttle over to the Callaway immediately. Ford wants to send the Talon to 3-Vega as soon as possible to get an idea of what’s lurking on the other side. Unless you want to visit the Slipstream, too, I suggest you debark the Talon by 0300.”

“Will do,” Jonathan said. “By the way, when we finish the return Gate and reinforcements arrive, will the Callaway or any of the vessels under her command be relieved?”

“No,” Levieson said. “The Callaway and her ships are going to see this thing through to the end right alongside the rest of us. We’re going to need every last one of us if this mission is to succeed.”

Jonathan nodded. “Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

JONATHAN ACCESSED THE forward camera of the shuttle as it approached the Callaway and he watched his old ship approach. He saw the scars of battle on her hull, the dark, criss-cross colorations where the Whittle layer had been repaired after the alien fighter attacks, and the longer discoloration running along the port side of the cruiser where the enemy had ripped a gash with their particle beams.

The shuttle docked shortly. He waited for the hangar bay doors to close, and for atmosphere to fill the compartment. The shuttle’s down ramp lowered. Two Centurions were waiting for him, along with Commander Cray.

“I purposely kept the welcoming party small,” Robert said. “I figured you would prefer it this way.”

“Absolutely right, as always, Commander,” Jonathan said.

Jonathan removed his helmet and gloves and handed them to one of the Centurions, and then he walked in silence beside Robert. The captain ran his bare fingers along the bulkheads as he walked, the grainy surface feeling cool to the touch. The overhead lights were just right, not too bright and not too dim, shining down with the appropriate intensities and angles so that nobody had a shadow. His footfalls were muted by the deck rug. The crisp air contained no hint of recycling; near the hydroponics department, he smelled notes of pollen and pine like a meadow on a spring day. Crew members either nodded or saluted as he passed.

It was good to be aboard his own ship again.

Robert led him through Wardroom Five—the bridge officers’ mess—to a green-curtained passageway. A robot MA in full-dress uniform guarded the opening. The robot saluted with its rifle and Robert led Jonathan through into the passageway of staterooms beyond. The commander paused at the door to Jonathan’s old quarters, which was guarded by another robot MA. It also saluted. Jonathan found the presence of the robots odd, but said nothing: their placement was at a captain’s discretion.

“We haven’t touched your quarters since you left.” The commander’s eyes defocused; Jonathan guessed he was accessing the remote interface of the sealed hatch, probably to remove the lock. 

The hatch opened, revealing a bunk stuffed into one corner, a closet, a desk, and a doorway on the far bulkhead leading to the private head.

Jonathan enabled his aReal overlay. “You’ve even kept my virtual decorations intact.” His bed had become a hammock strewn between two palm trees, and he gazed longingly at the white sand beach beyond it where waves gently lapped against shore.

“Of course, Captain,” Robert replied.

“Meet me in my office in half an hour,” Jonathan instructed his first officer.

He changed and stowed the few belongings he’d brought with him in the desk and closet. He picked up the old mitten he had saved from a climbing expedition a long time ago. It belonged to a woman he had abandoned on the mountain. Famina was her name. It had taken him years to forgive himself for leaving her, but he had. Just as he had learned to forgive himself for the others who had died under his watch.

A captain’s burden. A captain’s crucible.

The appointed time to meet Robert grew near, and Jonathan made his way to the bridge.

The commander stood up as Jonathan entered. “Captain on the bridge.”

The officers of the Round Table rose and saluted sharply.

It was a formality Jonathan usually dispensed with, but given that he hadn’t been aboard for so long, it seemed somehow suiting. He ran his gaze upon the familiar faces and found it hard to suppress the joy and sense of belonging he felt. Tactical Officer Lieutenant Miko. Comm Officer Lieutenant Rald Lazur. Ops Officer Ensign Lewis. These and others.

For a while there, I never thought I’d witness any of this ever again.

“As you were,” Jonathan said.

“We’re very glad to see you, Captain,” Ensign Lewis said.

“And I’m glad to see you as well, Ensign,” Jonathan said. “More than you know.”

The officers took their places at the empty, curved desks that formed a circle in the center of the room. The bridge crew faced one another, though never really saw the person seated directly across from them—their aReals overlaid most of their vision with digital visualizations of the information required to man their stations. Some wore the spectacle variants of the aReals, like Jonathan, while others chose the contact lens and earpiece versions, and still others had Implants installed directly into their brains.

Jonathan tore his eyes away from the Round Table and took the hatch to his private office; he motioned at Robert to follow him inside.

When Jonathan had settled behind the desk, he stared for a moment at the virtual stars portrayed beyond the aReal-generated portal beside him. Finally he looked at the commander and said: “Damn it’s good to be back.”

“It’s good to have you,” Robert replied.

Jonathan cocked his head. “Was that a note of regret I detected in your voice? Not too happy I’m taking away the reins of the Callaway from you?”

Robert sighed. “I’ll admit, I’ve grown used to commanding the fleet these past six months. It’ll take some time to get used to my old role.”

Jonathan folded his hands over his chest. “How is Bridgette? And your boy?”

“Very well,” Robert answered. “She has made a complete recovery from her radiation poisoning, as has Eugene. He’s the healthiest baby boy aboard.”

“Good to hear. I intend to invite you and Bridgette to dinner with me once I’ve settled. Along with Stanley.”

“I look forward to it.” Robert regarded the captain quietly for a moment, then leaned forward. “So. Has the admiral told you anything about my debriefing?”

Jonathan extended his noise canceler around the commander.

“Not a thing,” Jonathan replied. “Though the vice admiral did inform me that 12.5.2 accompanied you back to our galaxy. Though I have no clue how they got to the Elder galaxy in the first place. I’m going to need you to tell me everything.”

“Where to start...” Robert said.

“How about the beginning?” Jonathan suggested.

seventeen

Jonathan sat back while the commander seemed to organize his thoughts.

“The beginning,” Robert said. “All right. Not long after you departed, we discovered an alien shipyard on a moon orbiting the third gas giant of the Elder system. We believe it was the source of the six Raakarr ships that attacked during our engagement there.”

“You’re talking about the six ships that came before the alien reinforcements arrived from our galaxy?”

“That’s right,” Robert said. “We took a sample of the microbots they used to construct the ships, and then lasered the site to hell.”

“And let me guess, the admiral has already sequestered the sample.”

“Surprisingly, she hasn’t,” Robert replied. “She hinted that the battle group scientists already had similar samples in their possession.”

“Yes,” Jonathan said. “The fleet encountered a few Raakarr shipyards on the way here. I’m sure she’ll make you give it up when our reinforcements arrive. So what happened after that? You finished constructing the return Gate?”

“Not quite,” Robert said. “About three months into the construction, we were attacked by a strange ship. It emerged from the Slipstream and destroyed our Builder, stranding us in the system.”

“Strange ship?” Jonathan said.

“Yes,” Robert said. “It looked like it was cobbled together from parts of other spacecraft. Have a look”

A request appeared on Jonathan’s aReal. He accepted. A holographic ship appeared in the space between himself and the commander. The virtual vessel slowly revolved in place. Twin wings protruded from a central cigar segment, slightly reminding him of a United Systems corvette. But that was where the similarities ended, because everywhere the hull was uneven and dented, with sharp protrusions at random places, almost like its parts were salvaged from other craft.

“Scavengers of some kind?” Jonathan asked. “A branch of Elder?”

“Who knows?” Robert said. “Could be scavengers, or maybe they’re just badly damaged. And there’s no way to tell if they were members of the Elder race.”

Jonathan rubbed his chin. “You say the ship attacked you and destroyed the Builder. What then?”

“It retreated through the same Slipstream,” Robert said. “And into Vega 951, presumably.”

“You think it came from another system in the Elder galaxy?”

“Yes,” Robert said. “As we now know, a Slipstream doesn’t necessarily have to point back to the system that led to it.”

“Though it usually does,” Jonathan said. “Unless the Elder decide to meddle.”

“That’s right,” Robert said. “In any case, we believe this ship came from an adjacent system in the Elder galaxy. The aliens probably didn’t expect to encounter us, but if we hold true with the scavenger theory, it was an opportunity they couldn’t refuse. By fleeing through the same Slipstream, the aliens probably believed they would be returned to the system they came from, not another galaxy.”

Jonathan tapped his lips. “So they entered Vega 951 ahead of you. You know, when our battle group passed into this system, there was no sign of the enemy save for a razed shipyard. I wonder if that was the handiwork of that strange ship of yours. Perhaps they drove out any other Raakarr from the system. That would explain why we didn’t encounter any initial resistance.”

“You think that ship is still hiding in this system?” Robert asked.

“It’s certainly possible,” Jonathan said. “Though doubtful. More likely they’ve proceeded into 2-Vega or 3-Vega—they obviously don’t need Gates to traverse Slipstreams, just like almost every other race besides humanity, it seems. Unless they have a way to mask their signature from our telemetry drones... we’ve mapped the entire system, and detected nothing. Then again, we did discover a Raakarr probe hiding in the thermal wash of the star. It’s possible they’re doing something similar.”

Robert rubbed his earlobe. “Wouldn’t plasma-penetrating X-LIDAR find the ship?”

“Depends,” Jonathan said. “The range of X-LIDAR is limited. We’d have to launch several throwaway drones close to the star, essentially losing them, because they wouldn’t be able to escape the mass.”

“How did you discover the Raakarr probe, then?” Robert said.

“It gave itself away by transmitting a gamma ray signal toward 2-Vega,” Jonathan said. “So we were able to launch a nuke toward the general location, and it used X-LIDAR to finalize the target coordinates.”

“I’m not sure I buy that the scavenger ship is hiding there,” Robert said. “The Delta Vs for the kind of ship we’re talking about, that close to the sun, are huge. They’d have to be in a decaying orbit, and probably unable to achieve escape velocity.”

“What if they utilize the same reactionless drive tech as the Elder?” Jonathan said.

“I’m not sure about that,” Robert replied. “The ship seemed to obey classic Newtonian physics. But then again, they could have been merely pretending a Newtonian constraint. Some of their maneuvers, like their quick retreat, barely fall inside the realm of the classical, and definitely hint at a reactionless solution, or perhaps a combination classical-reactionless engine.”

“Well,” Jonathan said. “Let’s just hope it stays in Raakarr space, sowing panic and confusion among our enemies. So... with the Gate only partially complete, and your Builder destroyed, what did you do after that?”

“We looked into the feasibility of creating another Builder,” Robert said. “But with the technology and resources available to us, it just wasn’t possible. We decided we would wait and see if the Elder returned, and hope that they could help us out of our mess, though we had no means of communicating with them even if they did return. A month passed. Two. The situation began to appear hopeless. Many of us began to face the prospect that we weren’t going home. We looked into the feasibility of settling some of the planets and moons with biodomes. Morale was at an all time low across the task group.

“And then, from the same Slipstream the Elder had emerged from on the far side of the system, we detected new heat signatures. They belonged to United Systems vessels.”

“Task Group 12.5.2,” Jonathan said.

“The very same,” Robert replied. “Apparently, in addition to changing the outgoing endpoint of the 1-Vega Slipstream in Vega 951, the Elder also moved the destination endpoint on the Prius 3 side, so instead of leading to Vega 951 it looped back to the Elder galaxy.”

“What a tangled web the Elder weave,” Jonathan said.

“Yes,” Robert said. “That destination system was adjacent to our own, so that when 12.5.2 finished Building a Gate, thinking they would return to Prius 3, they ended up in our system, emerging from the farther Slipstream. They helped us complete the return Gate, and here we are.”

“Did I say a tangled web?” Jonathan said. “I meant a confusing one. Ignotum per ignotius.”

“What’s that?”

“When the explanation is harder to understand than the thing it is meant to explain,” Jonathan said. “I’m going to call the system where the Callaway and Task Group 72.5 resided in that galaxy: Callaway. And where the Elder emerged from: Elder. So you’re saying 12.5.2 traveled into the Slipstream in Prius 3 nearly a year ago, intending to search for us, but ended up in Elder. It wasn’t the same system where that scavenger ship came from?”

“No,” Robert said. “We can call that system Scavenger, if you like.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “12.5.2 began constructing a Gate in Elder, while you were attacked by that ship from Scavenger. 12.5.2 finished its Gate, passed through into Callaway, and then finished the Gate your own Builder was working on so that you could return to Vega 951.”

“That’s exactly right,” Robert said.

“Okay, that makes some small sense now,” Jonathan said. “So, 12.5.2 didn’t encounter a Möbius strip vessel in Elder?”

“No,” Robert said. “They didn’t detect any vessels or settlements of any kind. They proceeded straightaway to constructing the return Gate. They did launch a few exploratory telemetry probes, but again, found nothing.”

“You must have been taken mightily off guard when you emerged from the Slipstream to discover our fleet under attack by Raakarr.”

“To be honest,” Robert said. “We didn’t know what to expect, but we were ready for anything. We quickly sized up the situation, and realized there was something of value aboard the destroyer the Raakarr were towing, so we came to the rescue. What was so important about that ship anyway, by the way? Or did the Raakarrr just want to capture some of our technology, and that destroyer just got unlucky?”

“We’ll get to that,” Jonathan said. “One thing I don’t understand is why you emerged from 3-Vega instead of 1-Vega like the Talon. Did you not construct the return Gate around the same Slipstream the Talon passed through?”

“Actually we did,” Robert said. “But the Elder must have changed the endpoint on us again. Perhaps the Elder were watching, as they promised they would do, and when the battle between the human fleet and the Raakarr unfolded in Vega 951, they decided to change the endpoint to 3-Vega instead of 1-Vega, so that when we passed through we’d be right here, ready to intercept the enemy.”

“So your guess is that they were trying to help us,” Jonathan said.

“That would be my guess, yes,” Robert replied. “At least in that situation.”

“Even though they were the ones who had changed the endpoint of 3-Vega to loop back into Raakarr space instead of the Tau Ceti star in the first place,” Jonathan said.

“I didn’t know about that,” Robert said.

“Yes,” Jonathan said. “It’s true. 3-Vega no longer leads into the core of the Tau Ceti sun. We’ve lost our strategic advantage against the Sino-Koreans, not that we ever intended to detonate their star, not anymore.” Jonathan shook his head. “To be honest, I think the Elder are toying with us. This is all one big game to them. They don’t want us to win, but they don’t want us to lose, either. They want to draw out the entertainment for as long as possible. They haven’t witnessed such engaging sport for a few millennia.”

“That could very well be true,” Robert said. “But I’m not so sure. It seems to me like they were helping us get back, in their own way. After that scavenger ship attacked, we were completely stranded. If 12.5.2 hadn’t arrived, we would have never made it here.”

“Well,” Jonathan said. “I’m very glad the Elder machinations worked in your favor that time. By the way, how goes the reverse engineering of the alien fighters?”

“Harv has made basically zero progress,” Robert replied. Lieutenant Harv Boroker was the chief weapons engineer.

“Does he want to give another group of engineers in the fleet a crack at them?”

“He says he’s close to a breakthrough,” Robert replied.

Jonathan chuckled. “He said that the last time I talked to him all those months ago. When we reestablish contact with NAVCENT, I have no doubt we’ll have to give up those fighters to any reinforcements, for eventual handover to the fleet scientists. Probably have to give away a few of the active alien fighters, too.”

“Is that what happened to the humanoid environmental suit you brought back from the Elder galaxy?” Jonathan said. “And the Raakarr darkness device?”

“Those are the property of NAVCENT now, yes.”

“I don’t suppose you know if the fleet scientists made any headway on them?” Robert asked.

“No idea,” Jonathan said. “The admiral hasn’t kept me in the loop. Then again, she probably doesn’t know herself. Even so, I somehow doubt their scientists are making much progress on reverse-engineering the alien tech, given how much trouble Harv is having, and he’s one of the smartest people I know.” Jonathan folded his arms and glanced at the bulkheads of his office. “I still can’t believe I’m back aboard the Callaway. And in command. It all feels like a dream to me. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“It’s a little surreal to me as well, Captain,” Robert replied. “But I have to ask you now to return the favor, and update me on what’s happened during the long months I’ve been away. I take it your inquiry went well?”

“There was no inquiry,” Jonathan said. “NAVCENT skipped straight to a court-martial.”

Robert sat up straighter. “You’re joking. But the court acquitted you?”

“The court did, yes,” Jonathan said.

“Well there you go,” Robert said. “I told you that you had nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jonathan said. “They were fairly serious about the charges. For a while there it seemed like I was going to lose. Especially considering that they had regenerated Maxwell from the backup copy of the cores, and brought him out to testify against me.”

Robert glanced toward the ceiling and said, in mock seriousness: “How could you, Maxwell?”

“My apologies, sirs,” the Callaway’s AI responded via their aReals.

“Ah, Maxwell,” Jonathan said. “How are you, my old toaster?”

“I’m fine,” the voice of the Callaway’s AI responded. “I’ve missed burning toast for you, sir.”

“And I’ve missed scraping the burned portions away.”

“Did Rail and Rodriguez testify?” Robert asked, obviously wanting to get back on topic.

“They did, but Rail had a change of heart and testified for me rather than against. Either way, my lawyer managed to get me off. I’ll get you access to the trial logs if you’d like to view it.”

“I would, sir, thank you,” Robert said.

“I also had a word with Levieson, regarding your relief of Scott from command. The vice admiral reviewed the footage from Maxwell’s core, and it was obvious to him that Scott unduly froze up in the middle of the battle. He’s seen to it that you won’t face charges, or even an inquiry. Scott, on the other hand, has a full inquiry scheduled for tomorrow morning aboard the admiral’s ship.”

“Probably a good thing,” Robert said. “Maxwell caught him trying to stir dissent among the crew. I had to confine him to quarters for plotting sedition, along with a handful of the crew.”

Jonathan shook his head. He remembered the two MAs Robert had placed, one at the entrance to the bridge officers’ staterooms, and the other outside his own quarters. “You really did have it bad out there, didn’t you?”

“It was one of the worst two months of my career,” Robert replied. “So what else happened after you returned to our galaxy?”

Jonathan told him of the fierce resistance the Talon had encountered in the border systems, culminating in the arrival of Battle Group 35.1. He told of his incarceration and subsequent acquittal, and then the long return voyage to Vega 951.

“So wait, you haven’t actually mentioned why you’ve come back to Vega 951,” Robert said. “What is our mission? Or is that classified?”

“You’re my first officer,” Jonathan said. “I’m certainly allowed to reveal our mission to you.” He inhaled deeply, and let the air out just as forcefully. “We’re here to destroy a key Raakarr colony world, as a form of deterrence to prevent the Raakarr from ever attempting an incursion into our space again. The Dammerung carries a planet killer.”

“A planet killer?” Robert said. “So we’ve made another, then.”

“We have.”

“What’s the civilian population of this colony world we intend to destroy?” Robert asked.

“Five million.”

Robert seemed stunned. “We’re going to kill five million civilians?”

“Alien civilians,” Jonathan clarified.

“What difference does it make?” Robert said. “We’ve already had discussions about this in the past. Human or alien, that number of deaths can never be justified.”

“Don’t forget, they destroyed all the colony worlds between Prius 3 and Beta Ursae Majoris,” Jonathan said. “The loss in human lives measures in the hundreds of thousands.”

“That still doesn’t justify our actions,” Robert said. “Even if we were only planning to kill an equal number of aliens, which we’re obviously not. Five million.” He shook his head. “We can’t participate in this.”

Jonathan nodded slowly. “I suspected you wouldn’t agree. I didn’t at first, either. But you have to look at it from the point of view of the fleet. If we don’t do this, there’s a good chance the Raakarr will attack us again. And instead of five million alien lives lost to a preemptive strike, five million—or more—human lives will be lost.”

“Can’t we just increase border security?” Robert said. “Place more ships in the perimeter territories?”

“We could,” Jonathan said. “But I suspect NAVCENT is worried they’ll simply overwhelm any perimeter territories. I think another objective is to secure a foothold in Raakarr territory so that we’ll have advance warning of future incursions.”

“What’s to stop them from staging a revenge attack at some point?”

“According to Valor,” Jonathan said. “The colony we’re destroying produces much of the fuel the Raakarr use for their starships. It plays the same role Tau Ceti does for the Sino-Koreans. We’ll be severely crippling them by destroying that colony and occupying the system.” When Robert hesitated, Jonathan continued the moral assault. “Valor shared with us the total Raakarr population number... it’s about the same as humanity. A loss of five million is equivalent to less than 0.005% of their population.”

“According to Valor,” Robert said. “Valor... never have we put so much trust in the word of an alien. Keeping in mind that we can’t communicate with that alien directly. Who knows how much Barrick has been bending the truth, either unintentionally by misunderstanding them, or intentionally?”

“We can’t know,” Jonathan said. “Not until Wethersfield works out a way to translate their language directly.”

“Wethersfield?”

“The official liaison officer aboard the Talon,” Jonathan explained. “An Artificial.”

“And how long until the Artificial has a translation solution in place?”

“Another year, at least,” Jonathan said.

Robert shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re going to take this lying down. That you’re not fighting this order.”

“I’ve already had one court martial in my career, Robert,” Jonathan said. “And that was quite enough. I’m not in the mood for another. Look. If this is a mission you can’t perform, I’m prepared to relieve you of your duty. And that’s not a threat, but a mercy.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Robert said. “You’ll need me at your side now more than ever. But I’ll have to note my disapproval in the logs.”

“I’d expect no less,” Jonathan told the commander.

“One question,” Robert said. “How do we know that deploying the planet killer to that colony world won’t piss off the Elder? They did say they would be watching to see if we were worthy of the weapon.”

“The converse could also be argued,” Jonathan said. “How do we know the Elder won’t be offended if we don’t deploy the weapon against the Raakarr? We really have no idea either way, so we can’t let it factor into our decision-making. If the Elder attack us in retribution for what we do or do not do, then we’ll fight them and that’s all there is to it. But until then we can’t worry about whether every little decision we make is going to piss them off.” He knew his words echoed what the vice admiral had told him in the previous months, but Jonathan had come to believe them himself.

The captain stood. “Well, we should really wrap it up here. The admiral’s conference is in an hour and a half. I’d like to have a short meeting with the department heads, and then make an announcement to the crew before then. Dismissed, Commander.”

eighteen

Jonathan conducted his virtual meeting with the department heads and made plans to personally follow up with most of them. He initiated a similar call with the captains of Task Group 72.5 and updated them on the mission. Like Robert, a few of the captains expressed disapproval regarding the planned civilian casualties, but for the most part they accepted the task ahead of them stoically. At the meeting, the Talon, represented by Wethersfield, reported preliminary results from the scan of the system beyond 3-Vega. Jonathan forwarded the data to Admiral Ford.

When that was done, Jonathan spoke over the main circuit to the crew and asked for their patience in the months ahead.

“I know it seems like it’s been an eternity since you’ve all had leave,” Jonathan said after officially announcing his return. “But I ask for your patience in the days to come. We’re on an important mission against the enemies of humanity. We must all remain vigilant for a while longer. And if you want the truth, it will probably be at least another year, if not longer, before any of us goes home. It’s a small price to pay for the safety of Earth and its colonies. Nonetheless, I’ve seen to it that you’ll all be given extra rejuvenation credits as compensation for your efforts and devotion. Captain Dallas out.”

At the requisite hour, Jonathan joined the fleet-wide meeting of the captains hosted by Admiral Ford, and took his place around the virtual conference table.

“Greetings Captains,” Ford said, on her feet at the head of the table. “And thank you. Your performance and devotion to duty thus far have proven exemplary. I have never been more proud of a fleet.” After another minute of preamble, mostly devoted to welcoming and introducing the new members of the fleet, she switched gears. “3-Vega has thrown a small wrench in our plans. The Talon has completed a preliminary scan of the system beyond the wormhole, and they’ve detected Raakarr comm node equivalents, a few shipyards on an asteroid and a moon, and several dart vessels. The latter are situated near a farther Slipstream roughly two point two billion kilometers from the endpoint, and so far the enemy doesn’t seem to be preparing for another attack from that vector. Captain Dallas reports that our Zarafe allies are attempting to reprogram one of their fighters to act as a comm node; they intend to dispatch it into 3-Vega, where it will pass in and out throughout the standard day, giving us much needed warning of any incoming attacks. If the reprogramming proves successful, we’ll have the Talon install a similar fighter at 2-Vega.

“In the meantime, we’ll leave a contingent of ten destroyers guarding the entrance, in addition to the mines. I’ve already dispatched another ten ships to re-mine 2-Vega and initiate similar guard duties.”

“We saw how well mines worked the last time,” Bane said.

“At least it will slow them down,” Levieson said. “In addition to offering another early warning of attack.”

“What about the mission?” Bane said.

“I’m operating under the assumption that the mission is still a go. We’ll complete the Gates at 1-Vega and 2-Vega, and when communication is restored with NAVCENT, you’ll be the first to know if our mission status changes.”

The admiral discussed the shifting logistics of the operation thereafter, and listened to casualty reports. She assigned Rodriguez the Dagger, and Rail the Salvador, their old commands in Task Group 72.5. The admiral also transferred Chief Galaal and LPO Johnson of the MOTHs from the Leviathan to the Callaway, because the former vessel had too many MOTHs aboard, and Jonathan would “need someone with the ability to pilot the Knight mechs we’re going to be sending you.”

In the following days the fleet contributed materials, engineers and robots to help initiate repairs on some of the Callaway’s deferred damage, which included the bank of still-offline port and starboard Vipers and one of the reactors. The fleet also shared with them Avenger fighters, nukes and kinetic kills, which Jonathan distributed evenly among Task Group 72.5. He was also given the promised Knight mechs, though he doubted there would be a need to utilize them. Lieutenant Connie Myers requested a transfer to the Callaway and got it, so that the cruiser once more had its old chief scientist aboard.

Those first days passed in a blur as Jonathan readjusted himself to life aboard the Callaway. At times he still couldn’t believe he was back, but the feeling soon subsided as he fell into his usual routine as captain. He had wanted to continue his psi defense lessons, but the sheer exhaustion he felt at the end of each day made him forgo the trainings, and a few times he even forgot about them entirely. Eventually he dismissed the routines from his mind entirely: there didn’t seem much point in them without a telepath currently aboard. And once he had his compartment lined with psi shielding, as per the new recommended spec, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

With Connie aboard the Callaway and under his command, he directed the chief scientist to work on a more permanent solution to the problem of penetrating the Raakarr darkness shields. The current solution required them to steal a tartaan and reprogram the laser rifles of any combat troops to match its settings, and hope that the Raakarr didn’t change the modulation frequency of their darkness shields in the interim. She had some ideas involving local beam LIDAR, so Jonathan put her in touch with Barrick and ordered the telepath to get the Zarafe to reveal as much as they would, which Barrick thought would be very little. Barrick promised he would try to stash some tartaans aboard a Dragonfly shuttle during one of the supply runs so that she would have something to experiment with. 

When he was properly readjusted, Jonathan invited Stanley, Robert and his wife Bridgette to join him in the captain’s mess. The ship’s food stores had been fully replenished courtesy of the fleet, and the AI chef had gone all out, preparing a meal of Canard à l’Orange with all the trimmings.

A culinary robot served Jonathan a piece of the roast duck, which was sprinkled with judicious amounts of rosemary, thyme and marjoram sprigs. The thick orange sauce oozed down the meat while the robot filled Jonathan’s plate with the sides: smoked garlic mashed potatoes, cardamom-glazed carrots, and creamed chard.

Jonathan waited until the robot served the others, and then he cut himself a piece of the duck and took a bite. The gamey flavor of the meat was tempered by the orange sauce, which contained hints of caramelized sugar and rosemary.

“Superb,” Robert said after sampling his own duck.

“Stupendous,” Jonathan agreed. “The chef has really outdone itself this time.”

“It’s good,” Bridgette said.

Jonathan glanced at Stanley, but the chief engineer merely grunted.

They ate in silence for a few moments.

“Did they learn how to make anything other than gruel aboard the Talon?” Bridgette asked.

“No,” Jonathan said. “I can’t tell you how good it is to eat real food again.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” Bridgette said.

Robert reached across to her, and Jonathan thought the commander was holding her hand under the table. Was she still traumatized by her kidnapping and confinement aboard the alien vessel, even after all that time? Probably. It couldn’t have been easy, especially considering she was pregnant at the time.

“Pity we only have water to drink,” Stanley commented.

“I’m sure you’ll remedy that later,” Robert said.

Stanley smiled sardonically. “I’m sure I will.” The chief engineer downed a mouthful of creamed chard and then turned his attention toward Jonathan. “I’m not sure whether to be happy you’re back. Or disappointed.”

Jonathan glanced at the lieutenant commander and when he finished his current mouthful he said: “Oh?”

“I suppose on the plus side,” Stanley continued. “We get to dine on extravagant meals in the captain’s mess on occasion—when you deign to invite us, that is. Robert refused to eat anywhere else but Wardroom Five when he was in command of the Callaway. Like he didn’t really feel he was the true captain. I’m telling you, I was so getting sick of the food, I sometimes sneaked down to mess hall three just for a change.”

“I can’t believe you liked the food in mess hall three better than Wardroom Five.” Robert downed a forkful of garlic mashed potatoes.

“Don’t listen to him,” Stanley said. “He’s trying to make it sound like the food was exquisite in Wardroom Five. It wasn’t. Especially in the end, when our supplies were running low. I tell you, there’s only so many protein pancakes and fried eggs a man can take.”

“Was the hydroponics center offline or something?” Jonathan asked.

“No,” Robert said. “Stanley likes to exaggerate, as you know. We had fresh vegetables everyday. And meat.”

“Though I guess now that you’re back, Jonathan,” Stanley continued as if Robert hadn’t spoken. “I can request a transfer off this trash bucket. Maybe I’ll get assigned to one of the new Exeter-class supercarriers.”

Jonathan cocked an eyebrow. “I can write you a transfer request whenever you want.”

“Maybe I should wait until the personnel department issues a transfer,” Stanley said. “Looks better that way. You never know, maybe I’ll get one once we’ve reestablished communications with NAVCENT.”

“Trust me, it doesn’t matter if I write you one,” Jonathan said. “Or if the personnel department does. If you really want off this trash bucket, as you call it, either because of issues related to my command style, or otherwise...”

Stanley smiled. “Nah. I was being sarcastic. I’ve made so many changes to her, I don’t think I could bear to part with her. She’s my baby now. And I’ll be damned if I leave her before I’m rightly ready. And I have no issues with your command style whatsoever. I was merely joking around. My apologies if you took offense, skipper.”

Stanley was in one of his strange moods, and Jonathan thought it best if he changed the subject.

“Speaking of babies...” Jonathan glanced at Bridgette. “How’s Eugene?”

The commander’s wife finished chewing and swallowing a mouthful of cardamom-glazed carrot slices. “Oh, he’s a regular handful. I can’t wait until he’s a little older.”

“You’re not leaving him in the care of the nursery robots?”

“Robert arranged private quarters for us,” Bridgette said. “I was hoping that we could continue that arrangement.”

Jonathan frowned. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.” He glanced at Robert, who had adopted a sudden fascination with the contents of his own plate. “Private familial quarters are highly irregular, and go against procedure.”

“I was hoping to raise my child differently than how I was raised,” Bridgette said. “With love, and affection. Not by robots.”

“How did you procure these ‘private’ quarters, Robert?” Jonathan said.

“It’s a former shared berthing area,” Robert said.

“And what happened to those who used to sleep there? Where are they now?”

“We’ve lost so many of our crew,” Robert said. “That even though we’re harboring survivors of other task group ships, I was able to transfer enough people to other berthing areas.”

Jonathan was about to chew out his first officer, but then sighed. “I’ll allow it for the time being, at least until we get more crew members. But if anyone protests, I’ll have to return you to a shared arrangement. I can’t be seen as picking favorites.”

“Understood, sir,” Robert said.

They ate their duck quietly for several minutes, the sound of utensils clacking against plates filling the silence.

“Eugene is going to be an important person in the years to come, you know,” Bridgette announced.

“Maybe he’ll be commander in chief?” Jonathan couldn’t help the amusement in his voice—it was hard to take a baby’s future very seriously when it crawled around in diapers all day.

“Maybe,” Bridgette replied somberly. “Or someone of equal importance. A United Systems ambassador, or a great admiral.”

“Everyone thinks the world of their babies,” Robert said. “It’s just human nature. So you’ll have to excuse my wife if she feels a bit proud of our child.”

“No Robert,” Bridgette said. “No one needs to excuse me. I’m not saying he’s going to be important, just because I’m proud. I know our son is going to do great things someday. I know.” She said it with such conviction that Jonathan almost believed her.

The captain finished the duck and concentrated on his carrots. He completed the latest mouthful, then dabbed his lips with his cloth napkin to speak. “Commander. Do you remember, before I left, I ordered you to perform a sweep of the Callaway and the surviving ships of Task Group 72.5?” When the commander seemed puzzled, Jonathan added: “For the Phant?”

“Ah yes,” Robert said. “We swept all of our ships. We read up on all the protocols for detection of the incorporeal aliens, and implemented them to a T. But we found nothing. It couldn’t have escaped the destruction of the prison ship T300.”

Jonathan nodded. “That’s what I thought, too. But Barrick didn’t seem convinced.”

“We can do another full sweep, if you like?” Robert said.

Jonathan nodded. “I’d feel better if we did another one actually, yes.”

nineteen

The new sweeps turned up nothing. If there had been a Phant stowed somewhere aboard the Callaway or the other task group vessels, it was gone now.

After Maxwell informed him of the news, Jonathan scratched his chin. “We’ve performed multiple sweeps now aboard the Callaway and every surviving ship of Task Group 72.5?”

“We have,” the Callaway’s AI agreed. “Sweeps performed both here and in the Elder galaxy.”

“And we’ve not found a thing.”

“No, Captain,” Maxwell said.

“Isn’t it possible that a Phant of its caliber, a being who has lived among us for so long, has developed the ability to circumvent some of our detection protocols?” Jonathan asked. “Who can say how many vessels it lurked aboard before reaching the Selene, and finally the prison ship, after all?”

“That is a very good point, Captain,” Maxwell said. Did the AI sound cautious? Or was it just Jonathan’s imagination?

“You’d tell me if you ever detected any anomalous readings aboard the Callaway, no matter how slight, wouldn’t you?” the captain asked.

“I certainly would....” the AI replied.

Jonathan smiled briefly. “Thank you, Maxwell.”

TASK GROUP 72.5 joined a quarter of the vessels from Battle Group 35.1 at a nearby moon, which they mined to restock their mortar and mag-rail slug supplies. The Dammerung, undergoing repairs, was towed a safe distance away, and placed in orbit around the gas giant Achilles with a destroyer escort. Three harvesters gathered geronium and propellant from the same giant, and distributed them throughout the fleet.

2-Vega was re-mined and the guard of ten destroyers put into place. The Talon succeeded in programming two of its fighter escorts to act as comm node equivalents, and the craft passed in and out of 2-Vega and 3-Vega throughout the standard day, employing precise deceleration to ensure the fighters only appeared in the adjacent systems for short, microsecond-level intervals, and thereby keeping the fleet apprised of enemy activity.

The system beyond 2-Vega, which the fleet named Raakarr-1, appeared surprisingly empty. A few Raakarr comm node equivalents orbited either of the system’s Slipstreams; a countermeasure device waited near the closer wormhole to fire a concentrated particle beam at anything that showed up for longer than a few milliseconds. But other than those craft, 2-Vega seemed deserted. Valor also claimed there should have been a small military base on the third planet, but it looked like the Elk faction had abandoned it. Perhaps because of the scavenger ship Robert had reported.

Since there was no threat of imminent attack, the Builder returned to 2-Vega and commenced construction of the outgoing Gate once more.

After learning about the probes waiting on the other side of 2-Vega, Jonathan tapped in Barrick.

“You mentioned earlier that if you sent the alien fighters through a Slipstream for too long the Talon would lose its link to them,” Jonathan said. “Can we send some of our alien fighters through to eliminate those waiting devices, with instructions to return immediately afterward so that you can re-link?”

“Yes, we can,” Barrick replied. “But Valor also tells me that might be a waste.”

“A waste? How so?”

“He says once the fleet passes through to the other side, the Talon can capture those probes, and then reprogram them to send any telemetry data we want.”

“What about the countermeasure device?” Jonathan asked.

“That one we’ll have to destroy.”

Jonathan informed Levieson of the situation, and the vice admiral tapped out to discuss the matter with the admiral. A few minutes later he called back: “The admiral has decided that capturing the probes for potential reprogramming is the best option.”

“So we have permission to send the Talon through?”

“Negative. The Talon is to hold off for now, until the Gate is completed. In the meantime, continue to monitor the systems beyond both 2-Vega and 3-Vega.”

The months passed. The repairs to the Callaway and most of the other ships in the fleet were completed. The starboard and port banks of Vipers aboard the cruiser were fully operational once again, as were all its engines.  

The fleet held off two attacks, both from 3-Vega. The United System battle group had forewarning of each raid, thanks to the Zarafe scouts. In the first battle, eighteen enemy attacked; ten were destroyed and the remaining eight fled. The second assault came three months later, when forty-five ships raided from 3-Vega. None of the enemy fled, and fought until destroyed.

The combined human fleet was reduced by half because of those battles, from seventy-five to thirty-four. Jonathan felt that the surrounding planets could have been better employed strategically during the two offensives, but the admiral was a fan of the brute force school of combat apparently, and it showed in the number of casualties. The Talon attempted to contact the enemy during each raid, but always its comm requests were turned down. There were no further attacks during the remaining months it took to complete Contessa—the return Gate to Prius 3.

With that Gate complete, comm nodes were situated at Contessa, passing back and forth from Vega 951 to Prius 3, linking the fleet once more to the InterGalNet and reestablishing communications with NAVCENT.

Ford called a meeting of the captains a few hours after communications were restored.

“I updated NAVCENT on our status,” the admiral announced. “And a few minutes ago, I received a response on the priority channel. The mission is still a go. There are no new orders.”

“What about reinforcements?” Captain Rodriguez asked.

“The fleet has gathered a significant force in Prius 3. Seventy of those ships will join us in two weeks time. We’ll leave thirty here to hold Vega 951 and guard 3-Vega, while the remaining forty will proceed with us into Raakarr-1 as part of our incursion force, seventy-four strong. I know it has been a difficult six months for you all, and it will be another six at least until we arrive at our destination. Such is the nature of space deployments. You wait for months on end, and then the entire mission is decided in the span of a few hours. Be strong, my captains. Be vigilant.”

The two weeks passed and the reinforcements from Prius 3 arrived. As predicted, the Callaway and other members of Task Group 72.5 had to surrender their captured fighters to those reinforcements, who planned to dispatch them to NAVCENT scientists. The Talon had to give up a few of its active alien fighters for study, too, but Valor agreed only after the usual coercing. Also surrendered was the microbot sample Robert had collected from the Raakarr shipyard in the Elder galaxy.

The admiral divided the combined fleet as per the meeting, leaving thirty behind to hold Vega 951, while the seventy-plus incursion force proceeded toward 2-Vega. Outreach Gate was completed by then as well.

The Talon left its scout in place at 3-Vega and intended to remain in contact with it after arriving in Raakarr-1 by means of the modified fighter already in place at 2-Vega, which would continue traveling back and forth between Vega 951 and Raakarr-1. If any indications of an attack from 3-Vega were detected, and the Talon was close enough to the Slipstream, the alien ship would return to Vega 951 and use its on-board comm node to alert the human vessels of the coming incursion.

At Outreach Gate, the Talon sent the Callaway the latest telemetry data recorded by its scout of Raakarr-1. The fleet recorded the position of the countermeasure device waiting on the other side. The Renegade launched a nuke through the Gate; the alien scout entered the wormhole to capture the latest snapshot of the endpoint, and reported the autonomous cannon as destroyed. Other than the Raakarr comm node equivalents, there were still no other alien craft waiting in the system.

The United Systems vessels passed through the Gate in fours, giving the necessary clearance to the two Raakarr comm nodes that remained intact at the endpoint. The Callaway’s turn came, and while waiting for the remainder of Task Group 72.5 to arrive, Jonathan studied the layout of the new system. It matched up with what the Talon had reported.

There were two stars, a yellow main sequence and a blue dwarf. The dwarf orbited the first at an average distance of six billion kilometers, or roughly the same distance as Pluto from Earth’s sun. The dwarf had three terrestrial planets orbiting it, ranging in size from Mercury to Mars, and a gas planet twice the diameter of Earth. The wormhole the fleet had emerged from revolved around that dwarf as well, a hundred million kilometers beyond the third planet.

Conversely, two gas giants orbited the yellow main sequence star, at average distances of eight hundred million and one point five billion respectively. The second Slipstream, which the admiral had named 2-Karak for whatever reason, resided about three hundred million kilometers from the yellow star, or about four and a half billion kilometers from the fleet’s current location. That final wormhole led to Raakarr-2, the system containing the colony the fleet intended to destroy.

When Task Group 72.5 was through in its entirety Jonathan tapped in the vice admiral.

“Requesting permission for the Talon to transmit the planned message.”

“Permission granted,” the vice admiral replied.

Jonathan tapped in Wethersfield.

“Have Valor proceed with the transmission,” Jonathan instructed the liaison officer.

A moment later Ensign McNamara, second watch ops officer, said: “I’m picking up a focused gamma ray beam from the Talon. It’s directed toward the Raakarr comm node equivalents outside 1-Karak.” That was the wormhole the fleet had just emerged from.

Jonathan nodded.

“The Raakarr probes are emitting two more focused gamma ray beams,” McNamara said. “The targets appear to be the alien probes camped out at the farther Slipstream.”

And once those remote devices received the signal, they would retransmit it into the Slipstream to other probes waiting in Raakarr-2.

“Let me know when the transmission ends,” Jonathan said.

“It’s done,” McNamara replied a few moments later.

“Comm, inform the admiral that the alien probes have transmitted the message,” Jonathan told the second watch comm officer, who resided two seats to the left of the captain in the command circle.

“You think the Zarafe sleeper cells will actually receive it?” Robert said. He sat at the Round Table just to Jonathan’s right.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan replied. “Barrick claimed they would.”

Robert rubbed his earlobe. “And he also claimed it could only be read by the intended recipients. You know, it’s interesting how the Raakarr have set up a network of probes similar to ours, forming their own version of our InterGalNet. With similar encryption and decryption methodologies.”

“We’re not so different, are we?” Jonathan asked.

“In some ways, no,” Robert said. “I just wish we had their Slipstream-traversal tech.”

“Don’t we all,” Jonathan said.

“The admiral is instructing our task group to proceed with the capture of the alien probes,” the comm officer interrupted.

Jonathan tapped in Wethersfield. “The Talon has permission to capture the probes.”

On the tactical display, Jonathan watched as the alien vessel maneuvered toward the two objects. Valor claimed that once captured, the Zarafe could reprogram the probes to report false telemetry information. If they failed, they had specific instructions to destroy the devices.

“Targeting remote probes outside 2-Karak,” Admiral Ford transmitted fleet-wide.

The Renegade launched two kinetic kills, aimed at the Raakarr probes in orbit around the far Slipstream. It would be about three weeks before those missiles struck, long after the message to the sleeper cells was retransmitted. Valor had wanted the Talon to capture those, too, but Ford thought it better to destroy them as fast as possible, allowing the reprogrammed probes to transmit their false telemetry information sooner, without the farther devices sending conflicting data in the interim.

After grappling the probes, the Talon moved away from the Slipstream endpoint. The Talon left its modified fighter in place to continue transmitting a picture of Vega 951 back to their vessel, as promised.

The fleet launched telemetry drones to explore the system. It would be a couple of weeks until those returned a complete scan of Raakarr-1 for hostiles. In the meantime, one of the Builders began construction on the return Gate to Vega 951.

Wethersfield tapped in from the Talon on the second day. “Barrack tells me the Zarafe have successfully reprogrammed the comm node equivalents and they’re redeploying them now. As soon as the admiral’s missiles destroy the farther probes, these will transmit data back to Raakarr-2 indicating that we’ve departed the system.”

“Good job,” Jonathan said. He relayed the information to the admiral.

“You really think the Raakarr are going to fall for it?” Robert asked.

“Of course not,” Jonathan said. “The first thing they’ll do is send more probes to confirm we’ve really left, if not actual ships.”

“Assuming our scavenger friend hasn’t made a mess of the adjacent system,” Robert said.

“You’re giving that ship too much credit,” Jonathan said.

Robert extended his noise canceler around the captain.

“You still think it’s hiding in Vega 951, don’t you?” Robert asked.

“That’s my hunch, Commander,” Jonathan replied. “Though I’m not entirely sure what it’s waiting for.”

“Maybe it has friends arriving from the Elder galaxy,” Robert said.

“Who knows?” Jonathan said. “The Elder were supposed to close off that Slipstream to our galaxy after you returned. But maybe they haven’t. Maybe they’re waiting to see what we’re going to do to the colony before they decide.”

“I thought you weren’t worried about the ‘warning’ the Elder gave us.”

“Oh I am worried,” Jonathan said. “And if you believe otherwise, then I gave you the wrong impression. All I said was that because the warning is so very vague, we can’t let it influence our behavior. I still worry, though.”

“A healthy dose of worry never hurt anybody,” Robert said.

“Never thought I’d hear the words ‘healthy’ and ‘worry’ in the same sentence,” Jonathan quipped.

“Indeed,” Robert said. “You can see why I’m not a counselor.” He paused. “So if the scavenger is still in Vega 951, why does this system appear so empty?”

“I think it’s a Raakarr ruse,” Jonathan said.

In five days the telemetry drones completed their scans of the three terrestrials that orbited the nearby blue dwarf. The planets contained nothing of interest.

Four days later one of the telemetry drones detected a Raakarr shipyard on a moon of the second gas giant orbiting the yellow main sequence star. Or rather two shipyards, situated relatively close together on the surface.

In another five days, the previously launched kinetic kills took out the alien probes in front of the far Slipstream, 2-Karak.

“Lazur,” Jonathan told the comm officer. “Get in touch with Barrick. Ask him when Valor intends to transmit the false telemetry data from their reprogrammed probes, now that those other ones have been eliminated.”

“Sir,” Lazur announced a short while later. “Barrick is reporting that the Raakarr probes are transmitting the requested false telemetry data.”

Jonathan pursed his lips. “Ensign Lewis, can we confirm?”

“I’m detecting focused gamma ray beams from the repurposed Raakarr probes, yes,” Lewis said. “Targeting the farther Slipstream.”

“Now we see how our friends in Raakarr-2 handle it,” Jonathan said.

Nothing else happened over the next nine days; on the tenth day, the telemetry drones finally reached the far side of the main sequence star, as well as the second gas giant, completing their scans of the system. There were no other shipyards or any other vessels.

“Still think it’s a ruse?” Robert asked when the news came in.

“It’s damn peculiar, is what it is,” Jonathan said. “I’m supposed to believe the Raakarr already sent all the ships they could spare into Vega 951 to attack us?” He tapped in Barrick aboard the Talon. “Ask Valor what he thinks the Elk are up to here. Why isn’t there more of an Elk presence, other than those two shipyards? I need an alien perspective on this.”

Barrick replied a minute later. “Valor believes they’re amassing their forces in the next system, waiting for us.”

“Why?” Jonathan said. “Wouldn’t it make sense to keep harrying us?”

“Oh, he says they’ll continue to harry us,” Barrick answered. “But they’re going to keep most of their forces in reserve inside Raakarr-2.”

“Any estimates on how large those forces will be?” Jonathan asked.

“He previously gave an estimate of fifty ships to NAVCENT,” Barrick said. “But there is no telling how many the Elk have gathered to the system since. I suspect we’re going to need every last vessel we have.”

“Can’t his sleeper cells let us know?”

“Not without revealing their identities,” Barrick replied. “The undercover Zarafe can only receive data anonymously. The moment the operatives answer, the AIs aboard the different ships and installations will betray them.”

“How many ships can we expect to defect to our side when the admiral sends the order to activate the sleeper cells?” Jonathan asked.

“Valor says he has no way to know which ships have Zarafe aboard,” Barrick answered. “It was part of their anti-infiltration measures. Security by obscurity. No cell knows the locations of any other cell. There could be ten sleepers in the adjacent system. There could be none.”

“Sounds like an uncoordinated mess to me,” Jonathan commented. “Though it makes me wonder if we’ve already destroyed some sleeper cells in our previous battles. Given that Valor hasn’t been transmitting orders to activate them.”

“Actually he has,” Barrick said. “But you also have to keep in mind, commandeering a ship is a tall order. Some sleepers may have indeed been aboard vessels we fought, and attempted an uprising, but failed.”

“Interesting that I’m only learning of this now,” Jonathan said. “It would have been good to know before.”

“I thought you knew,” Barrick said.

Jonathan contacted Vice Admiral Levieson. “Did you know Valor has been attempting to activate sleeper cells aboard the Raakarr vessels in all of our previous encounters?”

“Yes, we knew that,” Levieson said.

“May I ask why I was not told?” Jonathan said. I’m just the one in command of the Talon, after all.

“My apologies, Captain,” Levieson said. “I probably should have informed you. In any case, it wouldn’t have changed anything, would it?”

“No, vice admiral.”

“There you go,” Levieson said.

“Are there any other important standing orders Valor or Wethersfield have that I should know about?” Jonathan asked.

“There are not. Vice admiral out.”

twenty

Jonathan received word shortly that Ford had split the battle group into three parts. The first battle unit, B1, was composed of thirty-four ships, including the Callaway and the members of Task Group 72.5, and set a direct course toward 2-Karak. B2, led by Captain Bane, contained twenty ships whose mission was to raze the shipyards orbiting the moon of the second gas giant. B3, the remaining twenty ships, stayed behind to guard the Builder that was constructing the return Gate.

Jonathan tapped in Levieson when he received the order. “Vice Admiral, may I ask why we’re not leaving the Talon with B3? If they stay here, they’ll be in a better position to warn the fleet in Vega 951 of any incoming attacks from 3-Vega.”

“The admiral wants the Talon with us at all times,” Levieson replied.

And that was the only explanation Jonathan could get out of the man. The unsaid undercurrent was obvious: we don’t entirely trust them. Probably a good idea not to.

B2 was two days away from the gas giant when Ensign Lewis announced: “Two enemy vessels just took flight from the shipyards.”

“Do we know the classes yet?” Jonathan asked.

“The heat signatures are consistent with a pyramid and a dart ship,” Lewis replied.

“Do we have a course yet?”

She paused. “Both ships are headed toward 2-Karak.” Lewis glanced at the captain. “They’re fleeing.”

“Bane has no choice but to let them go,” Robert said. “He’s still two days out. He’ll never catch them.”

For a few moments Jonathan watched the two ships retreat on his aReal.

“My question is,” Jonathan told Robert. “Where did they get the fuel to run their starships?”

“When we discovered a shipyard in the Elder galaxy,” Robert said. “We found evidence of a fuel cache: large metallic tanks, arranged beside the shipyard. I believe they were dropped from orbit... similar to how we drop booster rockets full of fuel when deploying mechs planet-side.”

“Did you take a sample of their fuel?” Jonathan said. “Was it geronium?”

“Unfortunately,” Robert replied. “The tanks were empty when we got there.”

“But the microbots were building a ship when you arrived?”

“They were,” Robert said. “But either they were simply building it for the sake of building, with no intention of launching it, or the more likely explanation is that they had already filled the reactors with the last of the fuel, and that was the final ship they intended to construct.”

“You didn’t detect geronium in the obliterated remains?”

“No,” Robert said. “Though if that was their fuel source, we should have, shouldn’t we? So I guess that rules out geronium as their fuel. When the United Systems explodes the crust of that colony world, they’re going to be sorely disappointed when they find out they can’t harvest anything.”

“Oh, I think they already know that,” Jonathan said. “The fleet has encountered several Raakarr shipyards already. Their scans would have revealed the same thing.”

“Then we’re only here for revenge?” Robert said.

“Apparently,” Jonathan replied. “Though NAVCENT calls it deterrence.”

B2 reached the moon two days later and proceeded to obliterate both shipyards. Meanwhile the recently constructed enemy vessels reached 2-Karak and departed, vanishing into the adjacent system.

When B1 was a few days out from 2-Karak, new alien probes appeared at the far Slipstream to replace those that were previously destroyed. The admiral had those eliminated, too.

B1 reached 2-Karak and took up a defensive position around it. They left an opening in their formation for the gamma rays containing the false telemetry information from the reprogrammed probes to pass by.

Levieson tapped in shortly thereafter. “Jonathan, we need the Talon to send a scout through to act as our eyes on the other side. We need to know if it’s safe for the Builder to begin construction.”

The Talon launched the probe, which employed its usual technique of decelerating so that it passed through the Slipstream for the shortest possible period of time.

“So what do we have?” Jonathan sent Barrick after the probe had returned.

“There are no vessels immediately nearby,” Barrick said. “But there are a couple of probes within a thousand kilometer radius, and a countermeasure device.”

“You said no vessels nearby? But there are vessels, then?”

“Yes,” Barrick said. “There are several different ship classes. Pyramid. Reach. Dart. Capital. Most of them are deployed above the colony. We’re counting sixty-two in total, dispersed throughout the system.”

Jonathan glanced at Robert.

“Seems like a reasonable amount,” the commander said.

“The closest ships are how far away?” Jonathan asked Barrick.

“There’s a flotilla of sixteen ships in orbit near a large asteroid,” Barrick said. “About three days away from the Slipstream endpoint. Otter says the two ships that fled earlier are among them.”

“All right, continue sending the probe back and forth between our systems,” Jonathan said. “And keep me apprised of the status of those vessels.”

“Will do,” Barrick replied.

Jonathan relayed the news to Levieson, then the second Builder moved forward and began constructing the outgoing Gate.

“This is interesting,” Ensign McNamara reported from the ops station on the second day.

“What’s that?” Jonathan replied from his office.

“Every few hours, I’m detecting a heat signature from the Slipstream, but it vanishes almost immediately. We’re talking milliseconds.”

Jonathan contacted the comm officer. “Tap me into Barrick.”

Barrick came on the line a moment later. “Yes, Captain?”

“Is the Talon detecting a fleeting heat signature emerging from 2-Karak every few hours?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes,” Barrick answered. “The signature matches a Raakarr probe. Valor believes the Elk are utilizing the same technique as us, decelerating their probes before passing through the Slipstream at a random location to ensure it enters the system for only the shortest amount of time, preventing us from targeting it.”

“Sneaky bastards. With those probes, they’re basically negating the false information we’re sending via your reprogrammed units. I’ll see if I can get permission for you to send some of the alien fighters through to eliminate them.”

Jonathan informed Levieson of the situation.

“Thank you, Jonathan,” the vice admiral replied.

“So, does the Talon have permission to send a few alien fighters across to destroy the waiting probes, given that the enemy is actively spying on us and interfering with the false data we’re sending?”

“What about the countermeasure device?” Levieson asked.

“The fighters will have to take it out, too, of course,” Jonathan said.

“I’ll take it up with the admiral.”

A few minutes later the vice admiral tapped in. “The Talon has permission to destroy the probes.”

Jonathan forwarded the news to Barrick.

On his tactical display, he watched as three alien fighters dispersed from their escort positions around the Talon and vanished inside the Slipstream. Ten minutes later only two emerged.

“Valor reports that the probes and countermeasure device on the other side have been destroyed,” Barrick transmitted.

“We lost a fighter?”

“The particle beam from the countermeasure took one out, yes,” Barrick replied.

“Ensign,” Jonathan told Lewis. “Keep an eye on that wormhole, and let me know if you continue to detect intermittent heat signatures.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Don’t trust Valor’s word?” Robert said.

“Never hurts to double-check,” Jonathan said.

Six hours later, in his quarters, he still hadn’t heard back from the ops station. He knew his standing order would have been passed on to Lewis’ relieving officer, but he got in touch with the ops station anyway. “Have we detected any heat signatures since the alien fighters reported back?”

“No,” the current ops station officer replied.

I suppose those fighters did the job after all.

Every few days, more alien probes took up positions on the other side. Jonathan obtained permission to send the alien fighters through every time. That continued for two weeks, until two dart ships decided to escort the latest batch of probes, and waited on the other side of the wormhole with their particle beams at the ready. At that point the practice stopped, as the admiral refused to risk the destruction of the fighters, and the intermittent heat signatures began to appear again.

Over the next five months, the fleet fended off three raids from 2-Karak. They had forewarning, thanks to the scouts, and had enough time to withdraw the Dammerung and the Builder, as well as temporarily tow away the Gate before each assault. They lost thirty warships in the attacks, so that as the Gates neared completion, they were down to forty-four vessels.

They also received reports from Vega 951, courtesy of Valor, that the fleet there had held off a large attack from 3-Vega. Barrick reported that reinforcements had arrived in Vega 951, replenishing the ranks of the fleet and boosting their number by another fifty warships.

The Return Gate to Vega 951 was finished first, and comm nodes were launched to reestablish communications with NAVCENT.

The admiral held a meeting of the captains shortly thereafter.

“I updated NAVCENT on our progress last night and heard back from them this morning. Our orders haven’t changed. The mission is still a go. More reinforcements are expected to arrive one week from today. I’ll be leaving behind forty of those ships to hold Raakarr-1, and the rest will join us, so that by the time we pass through into Raakarr-2, we’ll have a hundred-plus ships in the fleet.

“We’re in good shape for our attack run on the colony. Thank you all for your patience so far. Seven months from now, if all goes well, the return Gate will be completed and we’ll be on our way back to United Systems space, victorious. With a foothold secured deep within Raakarr territory.”

“Maybe the enemy will finally begin answering our communication requests after that,” Captain Rodriguez said. “And some sort of peace treaty can be drawn up.”

“Whatever happens afterward is beyond the scope of our mission,” the admiral replied. “We’ll leave that to the hands of the negotiators and diplomats.”

As promised, a week later the United Systems reinforcements arrived, swelling their ranks to over a hundred and forty ships. Because of 2-Karak’s current orbital position, it took the reinforcements another week to reach the outgoing Slipstream and the Gate still under construction there.

The Gate to Raakarr-2 was completed over the next several days. By then, sixteen alien ships had gathered on the other side to defend the endpoint, according to the snapshots returned by the Talon.

Since lasers and particle beams couldn’t be fired into a Slipstream—the beams were dispersed and rendered ineffective by the unique properties of the wormholes—the fleet launched a barrage of mortars and nukes through the Gate instead. Advance vessels passed through shortly thereafter, with Vipers fully charged, and in moments all sixteen waiting ships were destroyed. The fleet lost only one vessel in the assault.

The remaining hundred ships designated for the mission passed through the Gate, leaving behind forty to guard Raakarr-1—twenty situated around each Gate.

Jonathan studied the new system upon emerging from the endpoint. It matched up with what the Talon had reported. There were four stars in total, forming two binaries. A blue giant and red main sequence formed the first binary, orbiting one another at a distance of one hundred million kilometers. Two yellow main sequence stars, separated by fifty million kilometers, composed the second binary. The binary pairs were currently separated by two hundred million kilometers, and revolved around a central barycenter that was slightly offset toward the yellow binary. He zoomed in on them in turn. In general, stars were never perfect spheres because of centrifugal force, but these four were more oval than usual, the flattening of the poles and the widening of the equator exaggerated because of the gravitational pull of their companions.

During their development, the four stars had obviously swept up most of the matter from the system, because the only planet proved an ice giant. However, that giant had at least a hundred moons, as well as a ring system. The largest moon harbored the Raakarr colony, according to Valor. Jonathan zoomed in on it via his tactical display: the size of Earth, that moon had a small ring system of its own. Above it, seventy red dots marked the enemy ships that had gathered in defense of the colony. The count matched the most recent value reported by the Talon. There was also no indication of the “scavenger” vessel Robert had reported.

Directly behind the fleet, the exit Slipstream was labeled 1-Vac. Two other wormholes existed on the opposite side of the system, labeled 2-Vac and 3-Vac by the admiral. The existence of the latter two had troubled Jonathan ever since Barrick first reported them, because those could easily be used to bring in enemy reinforcements.

“Captain, this is strange,” Ensign Lewis said.

Jonathan glanced at the ops officer. “What?”

“I’m detecting signs of terraforming on three of the moons,” Lewis said. “It appears an extensive array of mirrors has been deployed in their upper atmospheres, likely to amplify the solar rays reaching their surfaces. Also, each moon is orbited by a network of satellites that seem to be emitting powerful magnetic fields, probably generating the magnetospheres necessary to protect the moons from the radiation of the ice giant and the suns. If we could get scouts down to the surface, I’m sure we’d find evidence of Forma pipes, or the Raakarr equivalents, anyway.” Forma pipes were what the United Systems sometimes used to terraform a world, and were driven deep into the crust to pipe breathable air into the atmospheres from natural reserves located far below the surface.

“Okay...” Jonathan said. “But why is any of that strange?”

“Well, Valor claimed the colony world was terraformed, didn’t he?” the ensign asked.

“That’s right.”

“Unlike the other moons,” Lewis explained. “I’m not seeing any indications of terraforming on the main colony. Either it was naturally inhabitable by the Raakarr, with the perfect atmosphere and magnetosphere, and just the right orbit to receive the necessary sunlight year round, or the aliens used a newer terraforming method that didn’t leave a footprint.”

Jonathan studied his display. “Maybe that ring system around the colony is part of their new terraforming technology?”

“Maybe,” Lewis said. “But as far as I can tell, it’s just a bunch of rocks.”

Jonathan glanced at Robert and extended his noise canceler about the commander. “What do you think?’

“Valor might be lying,” Robert said.

“But why lie about something like terraforming?” Jonathan asked.

“I don’t know,” Robert said. “Maybe Valor is worried the United Systems wouldn’t want to destroy a naturally inhabitable moon?”

“For good reason,” Jonathan said. “Life-bearing planets are a rarity throughout this galaxy, even if it’s alien life that is supported, and not human. I’m going to inform the vice admiral.”

When Jonathan finished explaining the situation to the vice admiral, Levieson said: “That doesn’t change anything. Natural or terraformed, we’re still going to destroy it. Besides, I’m of the opinion that they’ve developed newer terraforming tech, as per your alternate theory. I mean, come on, obviously they’re using the star system as a testbed. Why else would they have terraformed three other moons if not to streamline the tech? And with so many moons available, the same relative distance from the suns, under almost the same set of conditions, it’s the perfect testing ground. The United Systems perfected its own terraforming tech by experimenting under similar circumstances. The seventeen moons of Antares III spring to mind. The mission is a go.”

“I understand, sir.” Jonathan tapped out.

“What did he say?” Robert asked.

“The mission is a go.”

The Talon left scouts at 1-Vac to continue passing information back and forth between its other modified fighters, so that the fleet would remain apprised of the situations in both Vega 951 and Raakarr-1. Meanwhile, the Builder began constructing the return Gate, and telemetry drones were launched toward the ice giant, with plans to give the planet and its hostile protectors a wide berth. So far, the seventy vessels in orbit above the colony world had made no move to attack.

The second day, while Jonathan was on the bridge during the first watch, Ensign Lewis made an announcement.

“I’m detecting heat signatures from the far Slipstreams,” Lewis said. “Ships are emerging from 2-Vac and 3-Vac.”

“Let me know when you have a count,” Jonathan said.

When she hadn’t answered after two minutes, Jonathan said: “Do you have a count?”

“We’re at fifty from 2-Vac and twenty-five from 3-Vac,” Lewis said. “But the ships are still coming.”

“Not good.” Jonathan said.

Eight minutes later she reported the final tally at a hundred from 2-Vac, and fifty from 3-Vac.

Jonathan glanced at Robert. “So, including the original seventy ships in the system, we’re outnumbered slightly more than two to one.”

The commander shrugged. “We’ve faced worse odds.”

“I’m reading more heat signatures,” the ensign said urgently.

“From which Slipstream?”

“Not a Slipstream,” she replied. “From behind the ice giant. Apparently, ships of all kind have been hiding there. Pyramid. Reach. Dart. Capital.” She paused. “Oh no. No.”

“Lewis...” Jonathan said.

She glanced up. “There’s just too many of them.”

“How many?” Jonathan asked.

“Captain, there are at least two thousand.”

twenty-one

Two thousand?” Jonathan said in disbelief. “Not even Earth has that many ships acting in its defense.”

“If we recalled every ship in the fleet, it would come close,” Miko said. “Fifteen hundred.”

Jonathan nodded distractedly. Two thousand. None of the United Systems crews were going to make it home alive. Those who survived the initial attack would be taken prisoner by the Elk, and likely experimented on until they died.

This is the end.

He stared at the display.

A year and a half. It’s taken a year and a half to get here from Prius 3. Trapped aboard cramped berthing areas in prisons of steel, glass and polycarbonate. And we’ve only been building up to our own doom.

“For a colony world, they’ve certainly managed to assemble an incredible defense force,” Robert said.

His voice drew Jonathan up from the depths of despair. Somehow, the commander managed to sound calm.

Admirable of him. I must put on a brave face myself, for the crew.

He cleared his throat and straightened his back.

I am the Captain.

“Incredible, yes,” Jonathan said. “It almost defies belief.”

“It is a tad suspicious,” Robert said.

“Is it?” Jonathan fought against the despair that attempted to pull him down again. “If the United Systems had a planet responsible for eighty percent of its starship fuel production, they would defend it well, too.”

“The United Systems does have such a planet,” Robert said. “Earth.”

Lazur spoke up. “Captain, the vice admiral requests a tap in.”

Jonathan sighed mentally. He knew what awaited. “Put him through.”

“Well Jonathan,” Levieson said. “It looks like we’ve finally met our match. The Talon is to transmit our unconditional surrender.”

“Understood, sir.” Jonathan disconnected. “Lazur, get me Barrick.”

“Yes, Captain?” Barrick said over the comm a moment later.

“I want Valor to send a message to the enemy,” Jonathan said. “We surrender unconditionally.”

“The Elk vessels aren’t going to answer...” Barrick said.

“Do it!” Jonathan said.

A moment later Lewis reported a focused gamma ray emerging from the Talon. It reached the enemy colony in twenty minutes.

Jonathan settled back in his chair and stared at the numerous swarms of red dots on the tactical display. Extending his noise canceler around the commander, he said: “Well, we’re truly screwed. And there’s no way back.”

“Maybe we can hold off the Raakarr long enough to build a return Gate,” Robert said.

“Ha,” Jonathan said.

“It still bothers me that the resistance is so great for a mere colony world,” Robert said.

“Well, it only takes them a month to build their simplest ships,” Jonathan reminded him. “And if this system really is the source of much of their fuel, then they had all the raw materials they needed to create that force.”

“Well, they’ve obviously had advance warning of our approach,” Robert said. “Giving them ample opportunity to recall their fleet.”

Jonathan rescinded the noise canceler. “Lewis, are we detecting any geronium levels from the ice giant, or the colony world?”

“Not at this distance, no,” Lewis said.

“It’s looking more and more likely that they don’t use geronium,” Robert said. “Though we probably won’t know for sure until we detonate the planet killer and get up close and personal with that crust.”

Jonathan smiled grimly. Too bad there’s no way we’re getting that close. Not now.

The captain stood. “I’ll be in my office. Let me know if we get an answer to our surrender.”

When he had settled in, he spoke. “So Maxwell, what do you think? We’ve got ourselves into a bit of a pinch this time, haven’t we?”

“That would be an understatement, sir,” the Callaway’s AI replied.

“It almost makes me feel I should have pleaded guilty to my charges,” Jonathan said. “And allowed the navy to lock me up in a military prison. Then again, if humanity is doomed like Barrick says, then I wouldn’t escape our eventual destruction even there.”

“I’m sure you prefer it this way,” Maxwell said. “Fighting out here on the front lines for the survival of the human race, rather than locked up in a cell and hoping that some surrogate would act better in your place.”

“I would,” Jonathan said. “But, well, I never thought I’d see the day, where I found myself facing such impossible odds. If only we had gathered more ships...”

“The United Systems only possesses fifteen hundred vessels in active service,” Maxwell said. “Even if the navy mustered all of its ships, leaving the Earth undefended in the process, we would still be outnumbered almost one point three to one.”

“It’s better than twenty to one, isn’t it?”

“You faced similar odds in the Elder galaxy,” Maxwell said. “And utilized the features of the system to your advantage. Flying over a subgiant star, as I recall, and causing a solar flare to erupt, eliminating half of your opponents.”

Jonathan shook his head. “The circumstances were completely different then. Surprise was on our side. We’ll never even make it to the suns to use such a tactic again, not with all those ships in front of us.”

“Perhaps we’ll be able to construct a return Gate,” Maxwell said. “As Robert suggested.”

“You truly believe the Raakarr are going to leave us alone for six months?” Jonathan said. “Good luck with that. You know how badly they want our planet killer. My guess is that they’ll send in successive waves to harry us, until they disable enough of us to grapple the Dammerung.”

“The Dammerung has orders to self destruct upon capture,” Maxwell said.

“Yes,” Jonathan said. “And we’ll take out a huge swath of the enemy when that happens, thanks to all the geronium aboard. But it won’t be enough.” He sat back, and folded his hands over his chest. “I wonder what Hartford Knox would say if he could see me now.”

“Probably that the fleet was foolish to embark upon such a mission in the first place,” the AI said.

“Probably,” Jonathan agreed.

“You still seek his approval, even after all he did to you,” Maxwell said. “And even though he is no longer alive.”

“I don’t know if it’s his approval I seek,” Jonathan said. “So much as his forgiveness. Though I’m sure his ghost doesn’t give a damn.”

“Forgiveness? For allowing the Hurricane to be destroyed in that final battle?”

“No, not for that,” Jonathan said. “I was in the brig when that happened, if you’ll recall, so it wasn’t really my fault. I’m talking about his forgiveness for what I said to him up there on that mountain, when he refused to help me bring Famina down. I said some inexcusable things, accusing him of putting his own ambition to attain the summit above human life. But the truth is, Famina died anyway. I could have summited with Hartford, but instead I chose to dally to help a woman who was already dead. I never had a chance to set things right with Hartford. And then I pulled that whole vote of no confidence thing on him...”

Maxwell didn’t respond for several seconds. “I think... you made the correct choice on that mountaintop. Saving a life always takes precedence over transitory endeavors such as summiting a mountain, even if you fail in the saving of that life.”

“You’re right,” Jonathan said. “But I do regret never fixing things between myself and Hartford. I was the one who drove a wedge between us all those years. I always looked down on him as if I was morally superior, and whenever he got promoted over me, it only served to stir my resentment. He tried to extend an olive branch several times, but I always refused him. I had no right to behave that way. And I guess now, as I sit here aboard my ship, faced with the prospect of my own doom, I’m finally able to look back on all the decades and see things clearly. Is regret purely a human emotion, or do AIs feel such a thing as well?”

“It’s purely human,” Maxwell said.

Jonathan frowned. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Thanks for the little pep talk.”

“I’m sure I only made you feel more miserable,” Maxwell said.

“Indeed you did,” Jonathan said. “I guess that’s why they tell you never to stick your hand in the toaster.”

TWO HOURS PASSED.

No gamma rays were returned from the massive enemy fleet during that time.

Barrick tapped in. “It seems the Elk have elected not to reply to our unconditional surrender. Just as I predicted.”

“You’ve seen this future?” Jonathan asked him.

“Do you remember the waypoints I once spoke of to you?” Barrick replied.

“I do.”

“We’re at one of those waypoints,” Barrick said.

“So what do we do?”

“I fear humanity is doomed regardless of what choice we make at this point,” Barrick said.

“Thanks,” Jonathan said. “What happened to your stance about not revealing the future?”

“A momentary lapse on my part,” Barrick said. “I apologize. In any case, Valor tells me he has a plan.”

“Do share it,” Jonathan said. “Because we need all the help we can get right now. Even if humanity is doomed, perhaps we can at least save the fleet.” He had long since stopped paying much attention to the telepath’s doom talk, which is why that last sentence came out a bit more sarcastic than he intended.

Barrick spoke, and Jonathan listened very carefully, slowly nodding the whole time. When Barrick was done, the captain said: “Can Valor actually pull something like that off?”

“He says with utmost certainty he can.”

Jonathan informed Levieson, who in turn passed the information on to the admiral. She called a fleet-wide conference shortly thereafter.

“Well boys and girls,” the admiral said. “It looks like we have a chance at eradicating the colony world after all. It’s not going to be easy, and it’s going to require a lot of blood, sweat and tears on our part, but it can be done. You see, our allies have given us a way to take the war to the enemy, a way to teach these ruthless foes of humanity a lesson they won’t soon forget. Here’s what we’re going to do...”

JONATHAN STUDIED THE tactics the admiral had shared with him and the fleet. It was a good plan, if a dangerous one. There were many assumptions, and if any of them proved incorrect, they’d lose the Dammerung and the colony wouldn’t be destroyed. Maybe that was a good thing... sparing the lives of the five million inhabitants. Then again, if the enemy could gather two thousand ships on such relatively short notice to defend the colony, who could say how many vessels they had in total, and what fate awaited humanity if the battle group failed to cut off the Raakarr from their fuel source? He was starting to believe humanity was indeed doomed, as Barrick said.

He had already instructed Miko and Maxwell to work on ways to improve the plan; he just hoped the admiral was open-minded enough to accept what they came up with.

As he pondered means of bettering the plan himself, his chief weapons engineer tapped in holographically.

“What is it, Harv?” Jonathan asked the lieutenant, who appeared to be sitting opposite him in his office.

“I’ve been examining the schematics of the Dammerung,” Harv said.

“You’ve had nothing to do since you had to give up the alien fighter, huh?” Jonathan said.

Harv smiled fleetingly. “I’ve been bored out of my mind. But listen, I’ve had a stroke of inspiration.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “Tell me.”

“Well, the gist of it is, I’ve come up with a way to create a charged field around the destroyer.”

Jonathan sat up straighter and leaned forward. “You’re not joking with me I hope. With such a breakthrough... why, we won’t have to fear the Raakarr particle beams anymore during the attack run.”

“Not so fast,” Harv said. “I told you I could create a charged field around the destroyer, not every ship in our fleet. I’m talking about the Dammerung alone.”

“Ah,” Jonathan said, sitting back. “Still, it’s a breakthrough. If it works.”

“It will work.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “Care to tell me how you plan to achieve this breakthrough?”

“We have to open up the geronium bomb... take out all the delivery vehicles. Remove half of the geronium rods from the warheads of each one. I’ve run the calculations. Based on the size of the moon, and the expected yield, half the rods should still be enough to tear off the crust.”

“All right,” Jonathan said. “Let’s say we remove the rods like you ask. What do we do with them?”

“We set the fleet to 3D-printing rack extensions for the reactor cores of the Dammerung’s engines. We shut down the cores one by one, apply the retrofits, and turn them back on. In a week’s time, we should be able to retrofit all the cores.”

“How does that help us?” Jonathan said.

“Even taking into account the SWAP-C trade-off, we should increase the power output upwards of 10x,” the lieutenant exclaimed. “Remember I told you once that there wasn’t enough power to create a charged field around a ship? That we could only do it with a fighter? Well with this technique, the Dammerung will be completely shielded. If we send her in first, follow her in, she’ll shield the rest of us.”

Jonathan tapped his lips. “The charged field would only protect her from the enemy particle beam weapons. It’ll be useless against their laser ships. Or ramming attacks.”

Harv cocked his head. “I’m not a miracle worker. All I offer is a way to improve our chances. And when I look at the different ship types out there, all I can say is, the enemy have a helluva lot more particle beam ships than laser ships.”

“Though you forget the enemy fighters fire lasers, too,” Jonathan said. “There could be thousands of them housed in those capital and pyramid ships.”

“True,” Harv said. “But at least we can outrun the smaller bastards. And their range is pitiful.”

Jonathan exhaled slowly. “How long would it take to open up the delivery vehicles within the planet killer and remove the cores?”

“Maybe a day, with the help of loader mechs.”

“And a week to print and install the extensions for the reactor cores, you say?”

“That’s right.”

“Put together a 3D-printing plan,” Jonathan said. “And installation instructions for the Dammerung. And wait for my order to distribute it to your counterparts aboard the other fleet vessels.”

“I already have the plan and installation instructions ready,” Harv said. “I’m just waiting on your word.”

“Two steps ahead of me, as always, Lieutenant,” the captain said.

Jonathan relayed the information to the vice admiral. The admiral approved the idea half an hour later, and Jonathan instructed Harv to release the appropriate materials to his counterparts.

Jonathan called a meeting with Miko and Maxwell, and together they ironed out modifications to the battle plan based on the new charged field. He forwarded their results to the vice admiral.

Admiral Ford convened another captain’s meeting half a day later. “I have important modifications to cover regarding our battle plan, courtesy of Captain Dallas and the fine men and women of his crew. If this works, it could definitely tilt the odds in our favor.”

She proceeded to detail the modifications.

twenty-two

Ninety of the hundred human vessels departed the Slipstream region. Ten were left behind to guard the Builder and harvesters; after all, if some of the ships actually survived the mission, they needed a way to get home.

Those ninety intrepid vessels traveled in an arrowhead formation, with the Dammerung at its head, and set a course for the colony world.

A week passed.

The two enemy fleets that had emerged from 2-Vac and 3-Vac converged on the gas giant, joining the two thousand ships in orbit above the colonized moon. That mass of ships had not gathered into any specific formation as of yet. Thermal signatures constantly flared above the moon as the enemy vessels made directional changes to avoid colliding with their two thousand companions in orbit.

A day away, fifteen hundred of the enemy assumed a thick convex formation, gathering in a three-dimensional, outward curving configuration thirty ships wide, ten ships tall, and five ships deep, with an average separation of five thousand kilometers between each vessel. Two hundred Reach-class and pyramid ships were spread out in a cylindrical tube a hundred thousand kilometers in diameter in front of that formation, and extending outward by five hundred thousand kilometers. Interspersed between them in three separate waves of vessels, a hundred each, were laser ships. Together, those ships formed a formidable barrier that would ensure the human fleet remained under a constant barrage of particle and laser beams all the way to the colony.

“We’re going to swing around that formation on the starboard side,” the admiral sent. “I’m aiming for a flyby of no closer than five hundred thousand kilometers off its edge. We’ll fire a barrage of mortars and missiles to keep them from our path. I’m transmitting firing solutions and directional changes now.”

The orders came, and were executed.

Jonathan accessed the external front-facing video feed. Task Group 72.5 had pulled up directly behind the Dammerung so that the Talon was nestled directly behind the destroyer. Jonathan was charged with protecting the alien vessel at all costs.

On the display, the ship’s hull looked slightly pocked. That was because the Talon had modified the members of its fighter escort, jury-rigging a form of mounting magnet to each unit so that the craft were attached to the mothership at the moment, covering nearly all the available hull space and allowing them to proceed at the same speed as the Talon.

“Enemy ships are adjusting their formation to intercept,” Ensign Lewis said. “Laser ships are deploying, separating into individual lens segments.”

Jonathan switched his attention to tactical display. “I see them.”

“It’s too bad the moon isn’t closer to the ice giant,” Miko said. “The extra Delta V costs could have completely changed our strategy.”

“If we planned to fight fairly, it certainly would’ve helped,” Robert said.

“Oh, we’re fighting fairly,” Jonathan said. “Love and war, Commander. Love and war.”

“Launch decoys,” the admiral sent over the fleet-wide main comm. “And tighten formation.”

“Miko, launch the decoys from hangar bays four and five,” Jonathan told his tactical officer. He didn’t give the order to tighten their formation, as it didn’t apply to the already closely-spaced ships of Task Group 72.5.

“Aye, Captain,” Miko said.

At Jonathan’s urging, the admiral had borrowed a page from his tactical book: in addition to 3D-printing reactor core extensions for the Dammerung, each individual ship in the fleet had also 3D-printed several decoy objects, with emission sources installed to match the heat signatures of different United Systems warships.

While those were launched, the fleet moved inward, compressing the arrowhead shape so that the heat signatures of multiple vessels merged, masking several of their number. To the enemy, it would look like half of the fleet had separated. Importantly, because of the way they had arranged the heat signature patterns of the decoys, the Dammerung would appear to be in the breakaway group. They had even placed spare geronium rods inside the decoy to mimic the radiation signature produced by the planet killer.

“Enemy ships aren’t altering formation to pursue in any way,” Lewis said. “They’re not falling for it.”

“Well, it was worth a try,” Robert said.

Jonathan exhaled.

Too bad.

He felt a little embarrassed that the fleet had spent so much time and effort on an idea he had come up with, only to see it fail.

Not all your tactics are going to work all the time, he reminded himself.

He stared at the tactical display, and watched the laser segments separate and spread out as the minutes passed. The lead laser segments could engage starting anywhere from two hundred thousand to a hundred fifty thousand klicks away, though the most effective range was under a hundred thousand. If the laser ships combined their shots, they could increase that effective range, though because distance enlarged the spot area on the target, and exponentially reduced the megajoules of intensity, the enemy might squeeze only an extra fifty thousand klicks from such a tactic. If they were lucky.

The human fleet had no beam-based weapons that could match that long range. Mortars, nukes and kinetic kills were the long range go-to weapons of the United Systems.

But the human fleet hadn’t lobbed a single such weapon.

“Maintain formation...” the admiral sent over the comm, as if sensing the shared unease among the fleet. A moment later she spoke again. “Actually, Task Group 72.5, back away from the Talon. Let’s make sure she has enough room to work.”

Jonathan relayed the order to Miko, who coordinated with the various ships to retreat slightly from the Talon.

A few minutes later Ensign Lewis announced: “Lead laser segments are nearing their effective firing range...”

“If this doesn’t work,” Miko said. “They’ll riddle us with laser bores and the battle will be over before we launch a single volley in return...”

“It’ll work,” Robert said.

Jonathan pressed his lips together. He wasn’t going to say anything to jinx it.

“Captain Dallas, initiate Operation Mangle,” the admiral sent a moment later.

“Yes, Admiral,” Jonathan replied. He turned toward his comm officer. “Lazur, send Barrick the order. Begin Operation Mangle.”

“Aye, Captain,” Lazur replied.

A moment later, Ensign Lewis reported: “The Talon is moving out from the cover of the Dammerung.” She paused. “It’s in the clear... I’m detecting multiple gamma ray bursts from the alien vessel. The first was dispatched toward the moon, but every subsequent burst has been directed toward a different laser ship.”

Jonathan nodded slowly. That pulse contained an encrypted message meant for any sleeper cells aboard. Essentially, it read: “Activate the Trojan.” Because Valor didn’t know which ships harbored sleeper cells of Zarafe, the Talon had to send the message to as many vessels as possible and hope one of them responded.

“Is anything happening yet?” Jonathan said.

“No,” Lewis replied. “Not a thing. It doesn’t look like the communications are having any effect. The Talon is continuing to relay pulses to different ships, but so far none of them are doing anything. The laser segments aren’t stopping their acceleration, while the remaining ships beyond them are maneuvering in front of us to cut off our escape route. The only difference I’ve seen so far is an uptick in gamma ray exchanges between the enemy.”

“Could be chatter,” Robert said. “They’re wondering just what the hell we’re doing.”

“I’m wondering the same,” Jonathan said. Were we fools to rely on the Zarafe sleepers, and Valor’s word? Has he led us into a trap?

Jonathan shuddered as he reminded himself that the past year and a half might have been a carefully planned ruse by the Raakarr to steal a planet killer from humanity all along.

“You’re thinking Valor betrayed us,” Robert said quietly.

Jonathan raised his noise canceler about himself and the commander. “All this time, we’ve...” He shook his head. “I think we’ve been betrayed. There is no Trojan. Valor must have made it up, to give us hope. To make us deliver the planet killer directly to the enemy.”

“Why is the Talon still transmitting gamma ray pulses, then?” Robert said. “Look at external camera F22. Their ship is still rotating in place, almost frantically so, no doubt targeting other enemy vessels to receive its beam.”

Jonathan regarded the aforementioned camera. “You’re right. Though maybe it’s still a ruse, to prevent us from blowing the Talon out of the stars a while longer.”

“Or maybe the Zarafe have fewer sleepers out there than Valor realized,” Robert said. “We probably should have started the transmissions much earlier. And never allowed those laser ships to get so close.”

“Well, whatever the case, we—”

“Wait,” Lewis interrupted the cloaked conversation she couldn’t hear. “The chatter between enemy vessels is increasing exponentially, so much so that it can’t be natural communications. It has to be the self-propagating code.”

“So the Trojan exists after all,” Robert said.

Jonathan nodded. “And a sleeper finally received the Talon’s message to activate it.”

The captain rescinded the noise canceler.

Years ago, according to Valor, members of the Zarafe faction hidden in the Elk hierarchy had purportedly planted the equivalent of a Trojan in a devious software patch distributed to all ships. That patch embedded the malicious code fragment deep within the core computing environment of the AIs that ran their vessels.

When activated, the code essentially caused the ships to repeatedly transmit the Trojan execution signal to all other nearby vessels. Because of its status as a defector vessel, the Talon didn’t have remote execution abilities of its own, which was why Valor had to rely on sleeper cells to set the process in motion. While a hindrance, its pariah status also served as a boon, because the Talon wouldn’t be affected by the Trojan, either.

As more enemy ships activated and re-transmitted the code, more and more execution cycles would be devoted to handling all that incoming data, exponentially eating up the processing power of the computing cores, not to mention degrading the available communication bandwidth; it was a form of self-inflicted denial of service attack more than anything else, and it would bring the Raakarr internal network to its knees, forcing the AIs to initiate a full reboot to restore system functionality. Unfortunately, during that reboot, the aberrant code would be identified and quarantined, relegating the cyberattack to a one-time offensive. On the plus side, the reboot could take up to an hour per vessel to complete, and the affected craft would be completely helpless during that time.

It would give the battle group the respite they needed to break through to the planet.

During all of that, the few sleeper cells distributed among the enemy were supposed to stage an uprising, so that the Elk would have to contend with strife both within and without.

“It’s working!” Lewis said. “The thermal signatures of the nearest laser ships are beginning to drop in intensity, and they’ve stopped emitting gamma rays.”

That matched up with what Valor told them to expect when the internal systems rebooted.

“I’m seeing a similar drop in thermal signatures and chatter across the enemy fleet,” Lewis continued. “Laser, capital, pyramid, and Reach classes are all going offline. However, so far the dart ships are continuing to transmit.” Valor had warned them that the dart class of vessels had a higher tolerance for network overload, and it would take them a while to go down. “They’re accelerating to close the gap ahead of us, attempting to cut us off from the moon. They’re trailed by two hundred plus fighters the pyramid and capital ships managed to launch before shutting down.” According to Valor, those fighters wouldn’t be affected by the Trojan at all. It was a good thing the enemy hadn’t been able to launch more.

The minutes passed.

“We’re a hundred thousand klicks out from the closest laser ship segments,” Lewis said.

Jonathan glanced at Robert. The commander said: “Now we see if it’s all one big ruse.”

“Indeed,” Jonathan replied.

“Launch kinetic kills,” Admiral Ford sent, fleet-wide. “Observe the following targeting parameters.”

Jonathan forwarded the parameters meant for the Callaway to Miko. When the weapons were away, he saw that the fleet mostly targeted the disabled laser ships, with a few missiles heading for the incoming dart ships.

“We’re ninety thousand klicks out from the closest laser segments,” Lewis said.

“Eighty thousand.”

“Seventy.” She looked up. “They’re not firing.”

So not a ruse after all.

Jonathan studied the tactical display and watched as the United Systems missiles spread out to find their targets. Meanwhile, the dart ships still hadn’t deactivated; the lead vessels would intercept the human fleet in a few minutes, with the slower alien fighters arriving several minutes after that. None of that latter group were close enough to protect the laser segments from the missile barrage.

Jonathan’s fingers dug into the armrests. The number of dart ships out there was utterly demoralizing, and overwhelming. If those ships didn’t shut down soon...

“Dammerung, activate your charged field,” the admiral sent. She spoke the direct order over the fleet comm as a courtesy to the other captains.

“Field activation successful,” Captain Marik of the Dammerung replied.

The reactor enhancements provided enough power to create a charged field that only just encompassed the Whittle layer of the destroyer’s hull. Any other ships that wanted protection from the enemy particle beams would have to form up behind it.

“Fire a last barrage of missiles, mortars and nukes at the incoming dart ships,” the admiral said. “Three waves. And deploy fleet into Penetration formation.”

The Talon moved back in behind the Dammerung so that the two vessels were separated by about five hundred meters at their closest points. Basically touching, for all intents and purposes—a dangerously close position at their current speeds. While flying so near to the destroyer was perilous, it was also the most protected position in the fleet. A suitable location for the Talon to assume at the moment, considering that it was the second most important vessel the humans possessed, a vessel the enemy would want to terminate with extreme prejudice, fearful that the Talon had other programs besides the Trojan it could activate.

The difficulties inherent in such close flying were offset somewhat by the computer systems: the Dammerung’s AI relayed intended movement signals to the Callaway’s AI, which then transmitted them to Barrick so that he could keep Valor informed of any changes to the velocity vector, hopefully with enough lead-time to ensure the Talon remained in cover and didn’t collide with the Dammerung, destroying both ships.

After firing at the incoming dart ships, other vessels in the human fleet maneuvered into position for the requested “Penetration” formation, with many sliding in behind the Dammerung for the protection the charged field afforded, forming a long, single-file line relative to the incoming enemy. Such a formation provided no guarantee of protection, of course—the opponents only needed to hold off firing until they had a clean shot of the hiding ships as they passed by. However, by then the enemy would be flying into the line of fire of the Viper turrets mounted on the human vessels, too.

The minutes ticked past. The dart ships closed. Some were struck by one of the successive waves of missiles, mortars, and nukes, despite evasive maneuvering to avoid them.

The lead enemy ships neared firing range...

twenty-three

Jonathan thrummed his fingers impatiently on his armrest, waiting for the order to fire.

If she doesn’t give the command soon...

“If you have a Viper shot,” the admiral finally sent. “Take it.”

Vipers fired as enemy ships tore past at ranges varying from ten thousand kilometers all the way down to a harrowing five hundred meters. Enemy vessels split in half as Vipers tore into them from multiple vessels. Sometimes the dart ships got off a shot beforehand, sometimes they didn’t.

The enemy seemed to have finally decided they wanted to destroy the Dammerung rather than capture it, because those particle beams that did engage were concentrated on the destroyer. Thankfully, the charged field held.

After several solid strikes against the Dammerung, the enemy apparently realized what was going on, and began holding their beams in reserve until they had a good shot at the ships converged behind it. Human ships began to be ripped apart left and right.

The Viper volleys began to slow down—the human laser arrays needed ten minutes to fully recharge. Several enemy began to pass by relatively unscathed. According to the tactical display, they were decelerating to make another attack run.

And then the slower enemy fighters, launched before the capital and pyramid ships went offline, arrived. They unleashed slugs and lasers as they flew past, harrying the Dammerung and the other ships. The assault was brief, but intense; two United Systems ships broke apart in direct collisions with enemy fighters, but in moments the smaller craft were past.

More dart ships flew by. Most of the Vipers had recovered enough power by then to allow the battle group members to combine their shots with other vessels in the fleet, multiplying the damage to near fully-charged levels.

“As you exhaust your Vipers, switch to mag-rail slugs to counter the enemy,” the admiral transmitted.

Jonathan relayed the command to Miko.

“It looks like the dart ships are beginning to reboot,” Lewis said. “I’m reading the expected drop in heat signatures.”

“Finally,” Jonathan said.

He glanced at the ship count on his aReal.

It only took the loss of twenty of our ships.

On the tactical display, most of the dart ships remained on flyby courses. However, none of them were issuing the expected micro-corrections to their trajectories. They indeed appeared to be offline.

“The unmanned enemy fighters are drifting back there,” Lewis said. “It looks like they’ve lost their link.”

Jonathan tapped in the Talon. “Wethersfield, those fighters are yours.”

“We’ve just finished linking them,” Wethersfield returned. “And are turning them against the manned units. I’m sending over the fighters you’re to mark as friendlies.”

“Maxwell,” Jonathan said. “Transmit the friendly tags to the fleet.”

On his display, most of the red dots representing the enemy fighters out there turned blue.

“We have a moment of respite,” Jonathan told the bridge crew. “Enjoy it while you can.”

“Deploy for final attack run,” the admiral sent fleet-wide. “Battle Unit Malefactor, stay behind and begin the clean-up process. Launch nukes, mortars and kinetic kills. Target everything you can. Main Battle Unit, fire Vipers at will at any ships that come into range as we pass them.”

Sixty vessels—the ships designated as part of Malefactor—separated from the main fleet. Their job was to destroy as many of the enemy as possible while the remaining ten continued onward to the colony. The converted alien fighters out there were already cutting into the enemy ships. Carriers among the Malefactor unit launched their own Avenger squads to add to the mayhem.

The main unit, which included the Dammerung, Talon, Callaway, and the admiral and vice admiral’s ships, among others, left behind the disabled enemy fleet and neared the upper atmosphere of the moon, their target.

“Stack formation,” the admiral sent.

The members of the main battle unit positioned themselves so that they were stacked above the Dammerung relative to the moon’s surface.

“Ops, did the Trojan take out the orbital defense platforms?” Jonathan asked.

“They appear to be offline,” Lewis said. “Considering that their heat signatures have dropped, like the ships.”

“If they weren’t offline,” Miko said. “Those platforms would have opened fire by now.”

“Eliminate the defense platforms,” the admiral sent.

The ten ships fired at different defense platforms, shooting lasers at the closer ones, and launching missiles at the farther. Nukes were deployed to terminate the platforms residing on the far side of the colony.

“I’m reading two heat signature spikes on the moon’s surface,” Lewis said. “And now particle beams are striking the Dammerung. The charged field is holding.”

The stacked formation prevented any of the other vessels from being targeted by the surface defenses, which resided upon an entirely different network than that used by the space systems, and were therefore unaffected by the starship-based Trojan. 

“The surface sleeper cells missed those two defenses,” Robert said.

Jonathan nodded. The Zarafe sleepers were supposed to inject a different Trojan into special access nodes on the surface that connected to the defenses. Those nodes were located in six sextants spread out across the moon. “They weren’t expected to get all of them.” There was a good chance other land-to-air defenses were intact down there as well, ready to take out anything that descended into the lower atmosphere. That meant the planet killer couldn’t be deployed, not yet, not with any chance of success anyway.

Jonathan tapped in Wethersfield. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently the sleepers missed one of the six sextants,” Wethersfield replied. “All defenses are still online in that one. However, the good news is the other five are down. Valor is searching for vulnerable access nodes in the remaining sextant as we speak.”

Jonathan relayed the news to the admiral.

“Fire moon-side Viper volley,” Admiral Ford said. “Target those two defenses.”

Valor had previously informed them that neither nukes, missiles, mortars, nor Vipers would have any effect on the major surface targets, but apparently the admiral wanted to make that determination on her own. Jonathan would have done the same.

The vessels stacked above the Dammerung slid from cover to fire Vipers; when they completed the volley, the warships thrust back into their former positions in the stack. Among them, only the Talon hadn’t participated in the strike.

“Ops, what happened?” Jonathan said.

“No effect,” Lewis said. “According to the information transmitted by the Dammerung’s CDC, the two surface-to-space defense units seem to be covered by giant versions of the Raakarr darkness generators. Each one covers an incredible swath of terrain down there, almost the size of a small city... the power requirements must be through the roof.”

“That would explain why the Raakarr aren’t able to equip their ships with that tech,” Miko said.

“The power requirements are probably almost as high as those of the Dammerung’s charged fields,” Robert commented. “Though it’s too bad Lieutenant Myers didn’t have any luck upgrading our Viper systems to penetrate those giant tartaans.”

While the chief scientist had successfully jury-rigged a solution for troop weapons to penetrate the personal darkness shields individual Raakarr wore, she had yet to come up with an upgrade for the fleet heavy lasers, at least one that didn’t require a complete redesign of the Viper systems plus a substantial layover in dry dock to install the upgrade.

“Too bad,” Jonathan agreed.

“Fire nukes and decoys next,” the admiral transmitted. “I want twenty missiles targeting each of those two emplacements.”

Once more the human ships broke cover to engage the targets. On the tactical display, one of the blue dots winked out.

“What just happened?” Jonathan said.

“The Mirage was hit by a surface-to-space particle beam,” Lewis said. “It’s gone.”

As the ships returned to their cover behind the Dammerung, forty yellow dots appeared on the tactical display, followed by an equal number of white dots. The yellow dots represented nukes, the white, decoys. The moment the yellow and white dots penetrated into the lower atmosphere, they began to wink out. In thirty seconds, only about ten of each remained. By the time they reached the surface, that number was reduced to five.

“Ops, how many hit?” Jonathan asked.

“Two struck the first defense emplacement,” Lewis said. “Three the second. Half detonated in the upper atmosphere, and a quarter in the lower atmosphere, thanks to the land-to-air defenses of the sextant.”

“The nukes exploding early like that can’t be good for the fleet...” Jonathan said.

“It isn’t an ideal situation,” Lewis agreed. “Not only are we being bombarded by EMP events produced by the detonations themselves, but also by secondary EMPs generated by the expulsion of gamma radiation into the mid-stratosphere. The Dammerung is bearing the brunt of it; so far, her hull seems to be successfully dissipating the high voltage, and her armor is keeping out the gamma rays.”

“And what about us?” Jonathan asked.

“All systems are good,” Lewis said. “And no gamma radiation is penetrating our decks.”

“Do you think our nukes actually did any damage to them?” Robert asked. “At the very least, knocked out some power grids with those EMPs?”

“They’d have to be running ancient infrastructure for that to work,” Miko said.

“The two surface particle beams just fired again,” Lewis said. “The Dammerung’s charged fields successfully deflected the attack.”

“That answers that question,” Jonathan said. “Even if we had actually taken out the main defenses, we’d still have to deal with the secondary land-to-air platforms. You saw how many nukes were eliminated before impact.”

“But that’s because we’re above the one sextant down there that hasn’t been taken down,” Robert said. “We can deploy our nukes to the other five sextants.”

“We can,” Jonathan said. “But who can say how many more of those darkness generators are active in the other sextants? Besides, I suspect the major population centers are in the current sextant.”

“Precisely why we shouldn’t touch it,” Robert said.

“You know why we’re here,” Jonathan said coldly. He wasn’t about to get into an ethics argument, not then. The survival of the fleet was at stake at the moment, and completing the mission was the only thing that would save them. He would deal with Robert’s conscience, and his own, afterward. “Maxwell, given the size of the moon, how many of the planet killer delivery vehicles have to penetrate to the surface for the weapon to be successful?”

“Given the current yield of each delivery vehicle,” the Callaway’s AI responded. “At least eighty percent of the DVs must arrive intact.”

“Those eighty percent have to be distributed across the entire moon, correct?” Jonathan asked.

“They do,” Maxwell replied.

“And considering what happened to the nukes, what’s the estimate on how many will actually make it?” Jonathan pressed.

“Seventy-five percent.”

“All because of that one sextant with defenses still active below...”

“That is correct,” Maxwell said.

Jonathan glanced at Robert. “We’ll just have to manually disable the defenses in that sextant, as we suspected we might have to do. I’m just glad there’s only the one.”

“I’m detecting small craft attempting to leave the surface,” Lewis said. “They’re coming from all sides of the moon. Escape vessels, I think. The land-to-air defenses are shooting down those fleeing from this sextant. Only about half are making it through.”

Jonathan shook his head. “They don’t even let their own citizens flee.” He wondered how many of those were sleeper cell members.

Wethersfield tapped in. “Barrick tells me that Valor’s team has completed its vulnerability scans of the remaining sextant. They’ve pinpointed the two unpatched access nodes the sleepers missed, located outside of the alien cities. I’m sending the coordinates now. You only need to upload the malicious code to one of them.”

Jonathan received the coordinates via his aReal.

“Can we be sure the Elk AIs haven’t inoculated their systems against the planned cyberattack already?”

“We cannot,” Wethersfield replied. “And it’s also possible they’ve changed the parameters of their firewall equivalents to disallow access from said nodes. Human systems would do that, after all.”

“So basically, we could be wasting everyone’s time,” Jonathan said.

“Basically,” Wethersfield replied. “But we already knew that.”

Jonathan had Lazur inform the admiral of the access coordinates.

A moment later Admiral Ford came over the common band: “Captains, inform your designated MOTHs to proceed with the drop. These are the destination coordinates. The package only needs to be applied to one of them.”

Jonathan confirmed that the coordinates hadn’t changed, then he told Miko: “Let the MOTHs know they’ll be dropping in thirty seconds. Open up the bay doors and extend the plank.”

Jonathan thought of all the nukes the fleet had lost on the way down. Knight mechs wouldn’t offer much more protection against antiaircraft defenses like that.

The MOTHs certainly had their jobs cut out for them.

Jonathan just hoped they succeeded.

twenty-four

Rade clenched his jaw and stepped off the drop platform. The Callaway slowly drifted away. He felt the rough, scratchy texture of his liquid cooling and ventilation undergarments around most of his body, save for the feet and hands, where the cold, silky feel of the bare suit enveloped his skin. His breath reflected from the faceplate of his helmet, the region in front fogging very slightly with each exhale, the noise of his respirations loud in his ears, matched only by the thumping of his heart. The recycled air smelled stale and slightly burnt, punctuated by the subtle stench of his own sweat when he moved. And was that a faint mildewy odor he sensed? He wondered if mold was growing in the feed line again.

He extended his field of view with his Implant so that the tunnel-like restraints of the helmet receded, the external video feed from the head-mounted cameras filling his vision. Without those cameras his vision would be completely dark of course, as he resided inside the closed, windowless cockpit of a Knight mech, his jumpsuit enveloped in a cocoon of actuators that translated his every movement to the external limbs of the battle machine.

He had no sense of up or down, left or right. He floated in a directionless void, his body and mech seeming the only objects in the universe at that moment. 

He tasted iron and realized he was still clenching his jaw. He forced himself to relax and his teeth slowly parted. He had made drops like this a hundred times. A thousand. And without fail the initial zero-G always made his stomach churn. The feeling wouldn’t last long, of course. Once he began his true descent, and the G-forces hit, well, that was when things would really get stomach-churning.

He glanced down. Below, the moon consumed his vision. So many vibrant colors. The aliens had done an excellent job of terraforming that place. In fact, the brilliant greens and blues reminded him a little of Earth, and if not for the odd continent shapes and the slight yellow hue the alien atmosphere imbued everything, he might have believed he was on his way home. He felt a tinge of regret, knowing that everything below was about to be destroyed, and that he would play a big part in seeing that destruction through.

The pristine scene of the surface was occasionally punctuated by streaks and starbursts, sprightly, almost celebratory sights that hinted at the death he would face when he penetrated into the lower atmosphere. As he observed those ‘fireworks,’ he was vaguely aware that the thumping of his heart sounded louder in his ears, as did his breathing.

He glanced at the rear-view camera feed near the top of his vision, and judged he had enough clearance from the Callaway and the other ten vessels.

Well, no point delaying the inevitable.

“Pegasus, activate braking thrust,” he said.

“Affirmative, Chief,” the mech’s AI responded.

The Knight quickly decelerated. The Callaway and the other ships spiraled away upward. Below, the spherical moon spun rapidly. His vision began to become black and white, and he realized he was on the verge of blacking out.

“Stabilize...” Rade said through gritted teeth.

The gyroscopic thrusters fired, stabilizing him. “My apologies for your discomfort,” Pegasus said.

Color returned to his vision.

Rade checked the coordinates. The autopilot was adjusting his fall rate, compensating to bring him within one klick of the target.

The Gs were still hitting him hard. He started blacking out again, and managed to activate an injection containing epinephrine and a bunch of other goodies, and it pulled him back from the brink. The Gs still contorted his face from the bottom up as if he were repeatedly experiencing the water slap portion of a cliff dive into a lake, but at least he was mostly cognizant.

He breached the Kármán line and passed through the hellfire of atmospheric reentry, emerging unscathed into the thermosphere as the aeroshell heat shield broke away.

He descended into the fireworks. The streaks of light were flak, the starbursts the impacts when they struck an object. Whether or not he lived or died in the current moment depended only upon the whims of fate, a random roll of the die. He thought of how often he had depended on the mercurial hand of fate in the past to survive.

Has my luck run out?

He checked his overhead map and saw the multitude of blue dots representing both his mech platoon and other units that had dropped from the ten ships. The shade of blue indicated the unit type. Bright blue meant other mechs, either Knights or Titans. Medium, shuttles filled with Centurion combat robots. Light, the booster rockets that would take the mechs back into orbit. Each unit zigzagged wildly in an attempt to evade the incoming fire. The motion didn’t help all that much, because every few seconds one of those dots winked out.

Rade shook his head. Not all of the Knights or Titans were manned, of course, but it didn’t matter, because AIs were sentient, too. Brothers one and the same, dead for no reason other than to satisfy a government that fought yet another alien war.

How many wars have I been involved in in my life?

He couldn’t even remember anymore. 

Chaffs, Trench Coats, and other countermeasures occasionally burst from Rade’s Knight, because of Pegasus. Whether it helped save his life or not, he didn’t know. But it was a comfort, knowing that the mech was at least trying to pull itself and its operator through to safety. He was helpless at the moment, completely reliant on the fast-reflexes of the AI to survive.

To distract himself from the feelings of helplessness and terror that were coursing through him, he focused on the mission: take out the system responsible for all of the air and space defenses of the current sextant.

His understanding was that the individual anti-aircraft guns ran on autonomous systems that acted independently of one another. An override existed, similar to the Emergency Action Messages for the nuclear launch sites on Earth. The moon was divided into six imaginary sextants, with different EAM networks per sextant for security purposes. The alien sleeper cells had disabled all save the sixth sextant, where he was dropping now.

He would have preferred to land on the far side of the moon, away from the antiaircraft fire, and then make his way by land to the necessary site, but there wasn’t time. A massive enemy fleet lurked in orbit, impatiently waiting for their ships to reboot so that they could blow his own relatively tiny navy to smithereens.

Sixty United Systems ships were up there trying to eliminate as many of those inactive vessels as possible, but Rade doubted they’d get them all in time. The fleet only had enough nukes and mortars to eliminate maybe eight hundred of the enemy. After that, they’d have to rely upon Vipers, which required ten minutes to fully recharge.

Hell, he was jumping straight into the action, and even he doubted he would complete his mission before the enemy fleet awakened.

He thought of the Payload Deployment Devices the Zarafe had given them to make the injection of the malicious code as simple as possible. They just had to secure one of the PDDs, or “packages” in spec-op lingo, to either of the access nodes, and the injection process would begin. The high-level explanation, as told to him by his Lieutenant Commander, was that those specific access nodes were running outdated alien software that was vulnerable to a certain privilege escalation hack; wirelessly, the package would engage the necessary backdoor to break into the node, and then deploy a code fragment masquerading as a software patch. Whether that code would actually make it past the different firewalls and all the way to the defense systems spread out across the sextant, Rade didn’t know. It was even possible the AI of that sextant had managed to inoculate itself against that particular piece of code. Then again, maybe the alien network wasn’t run by AIs at all.

He could only hope.

As he neared the surface, he saw that the greens from orbit were actually lush forests filled with many strange trees. He saw gelatinous yellow-orange structures protruding between them. Black shapes crawled over the surfaces of said structures. He zoomed in. The shapes were Raakarr absent their personal darkness generators. It looked like they were climbing up to get a better view of the sky.

He was still hurtling forward as the thrusters continued to dial down his speed in increments, bringing him closer to the intended target.

Below, the trees slid away, replaced by alien buildings. Unlike the rectangular structures common with humanity, these were mostly flat triangles, with cylinders and pyramids thrown into the mix. The ground between them was a green-gray metallic sheen. Thick black tubes ran between different buildings, spanning to several other structures. The layout reminded him of an old-school circuit board.

Those buildings went on, and on, and on. He expected to find only a few small cities on the surface of the colony, not a sprawling megalopolis. The buildings were interrupted occasionally by parkland, with everything tinted yellow thanks to the atmosphere.

He saw the towering mushroom cloud formed of multiple nuclear impacts to the south, where one of the surface-to-space defenses had been attacked, and knew he was getting close to his target. He checked the external radiation levels. The Knight’s shielding would hold. But he wouldn’t want to leave his mech for very long, if he had to.

A blindingly bright beam of light erupted from the tip of that cloud, searing into the heavens. So that’s what a particle beam looked like when fired in an atmosphere. The defense emplacement that fired the beam was hidden by that cloud, but obviously its targeting was controlled from somewhere else.

The local flak still hadn’t let up. He wished the enemy defenses were offline so that the United Systems could deploy air support to aid the boots on the ground. Then again, if the antiaircraft units were down, he wouldn’t have been sent on the mission in the first place.

The aerospike thrusters fired and the air brakes deployed. He landed at a run, similar to a parachute deployment. He took cover behind one of the thin triangular buildings. Its surface was etched with strange symbols, similar to the bulkheads on the alien ships. Blue filaments threaded through the metal. More of those buildings resided on all sides, providing cover.

A persistent wail sounded in the distance. It was the kind of terrible screeching he thought an injured dinosaur might make. The Raakarr equivalent of an air raid siren, maybe.

He glanced at his overhead map. The rest of his platoon, labeled P1, was scattered between different buildings nearby. There was no real semblance of streets, but there were vague city blocks, demarcated by the clustering of the buildings. Nearly everyone from his particular unit had landed safely, except for two autonomous mechs. No enemies had been encountered yet, judging from the absence of red dots.

Four other platoons had landed in the area. Or rather, their survivors. Three intact drop crafts containing combat robots were also located in the alien neighborhood. As of yet, none of the units had encountered any resistance.

The mission objective, the access node, was only two blocks to the west of Rade’s current position.

Well, talk about a precision drop.

“P1, gather at my coordinates,” Rade sent. “Centurions from drop craft B21, join us. Mac, are we still in contact with cove?”

Although the fleet hadn’t launched any comm repeaters into the lower atmosphere because of the aforementioned antiaircraft defenses, the local AIs were supposed to keep track of the position of the main fleet, which was to hold to a geosynchronous orbit. Thus, in theory the comm nodes of the mechs could direct a concentrated beam directly to the vessels. Unless of course the fleet had decided to leave orbit, which had happened disturbingly enough during operations Rade had been involved with in the past.

“We have the Callaway, yes,” his communications officer confirmed.

Good. So while they didn’t have air support, they had space support, which was even better.

Helium’s Knight was the first to reach him, and took up a position at the edge of the building opposite Rade. The autonomous mechs Crunch and Cycles joined shortly thereafter, as did the eight Centurions from B21, and several of the hovering, helmet-sized HS4 drones that were with them. The armed newcomers split up to form individual cigar shapes around Rade and Helium, away from the gap in the building that separated those two lead Knights. That was the default formation programmed into the AIs, and was meant to cover every approach angle.

“We’re pinned,” Mac sent over the comm.

Rade glanced at the map. Red dots had appeared all over the place. So much for no resistance. Thankfully, so far no such dots had appeared close to Rade’s position.

“Going to try a space strike,” Mac said. 

Three city blocks to the east, Mac was hunkered down with the remaining ten mechs from P1, scattered behind and within different structures. All of those other Knights were autonomous, save for Piercer. Five red dots blocked their advance.

Rade glanced at the other platoon positions on the map. Similar tangos now impeded most of them, too. Only P4 hadn’t encountered any enemy so far. And Rade’s subset of P1, of course.

“Space strike has proved ineffective,” Mac said. “Enemy units have activated darkness generators.”

So much for space support. Well, they would just have to make do with the weapons on hand.

He glanced at the disk device attached to his Cobra laser system. Chief Scientist Connie Myers had been working extensively with the Zarafe over the past year, via the telepath Barrick, to come up with an upgrade to their laser systems. The Zarafe hadn’t been too forthcoming, but apparently they had told her enough to achieve a breakthrough, and the disk represented the fruit of that labor. Rade wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, but the gist was that when he pressed the trigger, the weapon fired a concentrated LIDAR beam to detect the penetration frequency of the darkness, tuning the laser in realtime to compensate, so that when the actual Cobra fired a microsecond later, it would pierce the enemy shields. The smaller rifles wielded by the Centurions contained similar upgrades.

Unfortunately, as far as he knew, Lieutenant Myers had yet to come up with an upgrade to the heavy lasers found aboard the starships; the lieutenant commander had warned them during the mission briefing that the fleet would be unable to provide support against darkness-cloaked units.

“We’re coming in from your seven, P2,” a voice said over the comm. The HUD labeled the speaker as Insectide, chief of P4. Rade knew him from an operation from some years back. Excellent soldier. “Hang on.”

“Negative,” Lieutenant Commander Pine of the USS Malicious sent. He was the officer embedded with P2; he was also in charge of the overall drop. An Artificial. “All units that are able, advance. It is imperative that we secure the package at the target site as quickly as possible.”

“So that the planet killer can blow us to hell all the sooner,” Helium muttered over the comm, P1 band only.

Rade lifted the huge laser rifle connected to his arm assembly past the edge of the building, toward the target in the west. Then he switched his viewpoint to the scope. He studied the side street. A strange gelatinous substance was strewn between the buildings there, similar to what he had seen while passing over the forested area on the way down. It was hung like a webbing between the buildings, and resided about three meters above the ground. Just enough space for a mech to pass underneath, if it had to.

Rade spotted a small Raakarr; as he watched, the creature swung inside an opening near the top edge of the gelatin like a monkey. He had never seen an alien as diminutive as that before, and he had to wonder if it was a child.

“Did you see that, chief?” Helium said.

“Yes,” Rade replied.

“It looked like a kid. I thought these aliens hatched their children in special breeding grounds or something. Inside Elder vessels.”

“I’m sure they do,” Rade said. But you still have to raise a child after you hatch it. He wondered if the structure was a family residence of some kind.

“Do we take it out with a couple of well placed missiles?” Helium asked.

“No,” Rade said. “Do that, and I guarantee you, we’ll bring down the enemy on our position.”

“What if that damn little Raakarr brings them down on us anyway?”

“I have rules...” Rade said.

“I know I know,” Helium said. “Don’t kill civilians.”

“The Lieutenant Commander clearly defined the rules of engagement before deployment,” Cycles said. “We have full authorization to engage any target. Any. Every Raakarr on the colony is dead when that planet killer goes off, you know that, don’t you?”

“Rade has his own moral code that precedes the rules of engagement,” Helium said.

“But surely his code doesn’t apply in the current circumstances,” Cycles said.

“It applies,” Rade said.

“A soldier’s conscience must never interfere with his duty,” Cycles persisted. “Nor with the rules of—”

“Quiet,” Rade said softly.

Going against his own moral code and shooting civilians directly? Couldn’t do it. If the LC disciplined him when the mission was over then so be it. 

It was hard enough completing the mission knowing that his team was basically the harbinger of death to this world. It helped, though, knowing that he wasn’t the one who would actually be pulling the trigger on the planet killer.

Then again, placing the package is the same thing as pulling the trigger, isn’t it?

He resolved that if his platoon subset reached the access node first, he would be the one to place the package. He wouldn’t let anyone else live with that burden. Not even an AI.

Rade highlighted the lingering red dot on his display that marked the last position of the child Raakarr. He changed it to yellow, indicating a civilian.

Then he directed his scope toward the street beyond the gelatinous substance and zoomed in to continue scanning the area. He saw more of those flat triangles, some directed edgeways toward him, others plane-wise.

“Looks clear,” Rade sent.

“I got nothing,” Helium agreed.

According to the overhead map, Mac was still pinned. Rade labeled Mac’s squad S2 and his own S1.

“We’re going to proceed toward the target,” Rade said over the main comm. Then he glanced at Helium. “Traveling overwatch. Two fire teams. You take Crunch and four Centurions. You’re up first. Deploy HS4 scouts in an aerial overwatch position.”

“Roger that,” Helium said.

His Knight traveled between the two buildings with the assigned units. They formed Fire Team 2, or T2.

Meanwhile Rade and the others provided overwatch from cover.

He held his breath as Helium and Crunch ducked underneath the gelatinous substance.

Nothing happened.

The four Centurions hurried after them without incident.

In moments T2 had taken cover behind another triangular structure up ahead.

“T1, with me.” Rade switched his viewpoint back to the external forward facing camera of his mech, then emerged from his hide.

He approached the hanging “residence” and ducked his Knight underneath the gelatinous web to continue forward. Around him, the metallic structures remained lifeless. While the stamp of feet and the hum of servomotors from his mech and the units with him were muffled by stealth-mode, the muted noises still seemed too loud to him. Above it, he heard the sounds of distant fighting—the rapping of flying rubble, the thundering of missiles and electrolasers.

As he passed Helium, the blue filaments on the surrounding buildings turned red.

An alert sounded on his HUD. The HS4 scouts had detected enemies ahead: five red dots appeared on the overhead map.

Motion drew his gaze forward, where five large, two-legged, mech-style robots approached. They were like walking gunships with those wicked-looking weapons mounted under either side of their T-shaped torsos. In the front protruded two small, grasping forelimbs. Above them he caught a glimpse of black alien bodies behind translucent cockpits.

“Fire at will.” Rade launched five missiles and took cover immediately.

He peered past the edge of the building, and when the dust cleared he saw five black mists standing in place of the robots. They had activated darkness generators.

His first thought was, why not keep the tartaans online the whole time? Then he remembered the experiments Lieutenant Myers had performed on their own captured tartaans: the protective abilities were reduced significantly as the size of the cloaked subject went up. To be effective, the shields he faced now probably incurred an immense power drain on the enemy units.

Meaning that, in a proper battle, Rade could have waited them out. But this wasn’t a proper battle—he had no time.

“Now we get to find out if our chief scientist’s little enhancements to our Cobras work,” Helium said.

Rade aimed the turret of one of his modified Cobras at the center of mass of a dark blob, and allowed Pegasus to direct the second turret at another tango. He fired. The two targets toppled.

“They work,” Rade said.

Ahead of him a building fell down, burying two Centurions hidden there. Their blue dots remained active on the overhead map; with luck, they would soon dig themselves out. Rade would come to their aid when he was able.

“I don’t think they liked that,” Helium said over the comm.

“Who, the aliens or the Centurions?” Rade scrambled to his feet. With that first building down, his was next in the line of fire. He wasn’t going to stick around waiting for the follow-up shot to come.

“Both,” Helium replied as Rade retreated.

“No one ever said it was going to be easy,” Rade transmitted.

Behind him, the building he had used for cover collapsed.

twenty-five

Jonathan clenched and unclenched his fingers on the armrest.

The waiting was always the worst part.

The surface-to-space defenses continued to fire from the moon. The Dammerung’s charged field had held up so far against those particle beams, but for how long? The admiral could have ordered the Dammerung and the ships stacked above it to move to a different portion of the moon where no surface-to-space defenses remained, but that would have meant abandoning the MOTHs, as there would be no time to retrieve them after deploying the planet killer. Plus moving now would cut off the vessels from any communication with the ground troops.

Meanwhile, the sixty ships embedded within the inactive enemy fleet had exhausted their long range weapons several minutes ago, and were relying on Vipers to finish the job; Avenger fighters were still making strafing runs over enemy ships as well, raking their defenseless hulls with slugs and short range lasers. Despite the non-stop offensive, there were still a thousand enemy out there.

Like most battles, success or failure always came down to the efforts or decisions of a few: the heroics of a brave ship, the tactics of a brilliant commander, or in this particular case, the actions of a few special operatives.

The lives of so many, in the hands of so few.

He checked the time that had passed since the drop. Not good: those operatives were taking far too long.

“What’s going on down there?” Jonathan said. “Do we have a sit-rep?”

“The lieutenant commander tells me they’re meeting some resistance,” Miko replied.

“Some?” He suspected that was an understatement. “Is there anything we can do to render aid? Via the Dammerung?” Jonathan mentioned the destroyer because he was reluctant to move out from behind the cover of the vessel’s charged fields.

“No,” Miko said. “None of our weapons are fine-grained enough, except perhaps the Vipers.”

“Which are useless against the enemy darkness generators,” Jonathan said.

“Correct,” Miko replied.

“Perhaps we can have the Dammerung fire on a building, and collapse it somehow?”

“All we’ll do is poke holes in any buildings we target,” Miko said.

“Launch a mortar nearby?”

“Again, not fine-grained enough,” Miko said. “We risk friendly casualties.”

Jonathan shook his head, feeling helpless.

“Captain!” Lewis said. “The heat signatures in orbit are beginning to ramp up again. The enemy ships are slowly coming back to life.”

Jonathan glanced at his tactical display. “Can you tag the awakening vessels a brighter red for me?”

In moments, those ships that were recovering from the reboot became brighter on the display. Ten so far, but every few seconds another joined them. All of the involved vessels were capital ships—the first enemy craft to go offline.

Jonathan glanced at Robert. “I thought the reboot was supposed to take an hour? We still have fifteen minutes.”

“Maybe Barrick misinterpreted what Valor told him,” the commander responded. “Or the Zarafe overestimated the time.”

“Malefactor Unit,” Admiral Ford said over the main band. “Recall your fighters and withdraw from orbit. I repeat, recall fighters and withdraw. Return to the Slipstream and guard the Builder.”

“But we can’t abandon you,” Captain Bane sent. “You’ll never hold them off on your own.”

“If we don’t fire the planet killer within the next ten minutes, it won’t matter anyway,” Ford replied. “Better that some of you withdraw to fight another day. Draw as many of the enemy away as you can. We’ll rendezvous with you when we’re done here.”

The blue dots representing Malefactor Unit began to leave orbit. Some of the awakened ships were pursuing them, but most set a course to intercept the Dammerung.

“Is it just me, or are those awakened ships accelerating extremely slowly?” Jonathan asked.

“No, it’s not you,” Lewis replied. “I’m guessing only one reactor, or its equivalent, is online per vessel so far. I’m sure they’ll increase speed as their other reactors reactivate.” She paused. “I’m detecting the launch of several enemy fighters.”

On the display, red dots began to emerge from the reactivating ships. At first there were only a few in total. Then there were tens. Then hundreds, all pulling away from the enemy fleet. Their trajectories converged on the Dammerung.

“That’s a bit more than several,” Miko commented.

“Guess they’ve thought of a faster way to reach us while their reactors still come online...” Robert said.

“Launch fighters,” the admiral transmitted. “Let’s stave off as many of them as we can. Don’t let them ram the planet killer. I want the Dammerung surrounded by Avengers.”

“Miko, get all our Avenger squadrons out there,” Jonathan said. “Protect the Dammerung.” He glanced at his comm officer. “Lazur, tell Barrick to deploy the Talon’s fighters to render as much assistance as they can.”

“Aye, Captain,” Lazur replied.

On the tactical display, the blue dots of the requested fighters began to join those of the nine vessels stacked atop the Dammerung.

Jonathan compared the pitifully small number of blue to the incoming swarm of red, and pressed his lips together tightly.

RADE AND THOSE with him were pinned. According to the overhead map, the other platoons fared little better. Circles of red enclosed the blue dots representing the MOTH platoons. The enemy had outflanked each individual platoon, and the attacks were coming in from all sides. Sometimes those tangos would be large robots the size of mechs, at other times smaller darkness-clad troops, likely Raakarr themselves. The Knights concentrated on the former, the Centurions the latter. And though the laser weapons of the Knights and Centurions were able to penetrate the darkness shields of the enemy, for every tango that fell, always a new one replaced it. Since the HS4 scouts with Rade and his men had all been shot down, sometimes the platoon members didn’t even know the replacement had arrived until it started firing and bringing the buildings down around them.

Rade was prostrate beside the crumbled ruins of two triangular buildings that had been collapsed by an enemy particle beam attack. That’s right, some of those tangos employed particle beams, which proved just as effective as the rockets the Knights had, if not more so. Helium, beside him, had hidden in the gelatinous webbing that once hung between the two fallen buildings. There was no sign of any Raakarr civilians in the stuff. The amorphous substance clung to Helium’s mech, and Rade wondered if it would slow down the electroactuated limbs of his friend’s unit when it came time to leave the hide.

Rade had exhausted his rocket supply by then. He still had his trusty quadruple-fire Cobras, of course, along with some countermeasures, such as the Lighter, which would electrify the entire surface of his mech. Somehow he doubted the enemy would ever get close enough for him to use the latter.

Time was running out, and they weren’t making any progress. There was one last thing he could try...

He glanced at the darkness generator, or tartaan, attached to the harness of his mech. Barrick had managed to smuggle ten of the devices off the Talon in total, by hiding one or two at a time aboard the shuttle that made routine supply runs between the alien ship and the Callaway. Every platoon chief had been outfitted with one of the devices for the mission.

In experiments conducted by Connie Myers, Chief Scientist of the Callaway, it had been determined that while the generator would engulf the entire mech in the black mist, because of its limited power supply, the shielding capability would be reduced by a factor of twelve. He thought of how the larger enemy approached with their generators turned off, activating them only at the last possible moment to save power. He suspected their shields suffered from a similar strength reduction, though probably not as bad as his own: presumably theirs were designed to supply extra power to compensate for the larger surface area.

Rade wondered if the darkness shield produced by the tartaan would protect him from the enemy weapons at all. Probably not. If he attempted his plan, he would be basically throwing himself into the line of fire.

“I’m going in,” Rade sent. “I’m deactivating comms, and turning on the darkness generator.”

“Roger that,” Helium replied.

“It is my duty to remind the Chief that the generator is meant for protecting the package,” Pegasus, the local AI of his mech, said. “Any other use is strictly experimental, to be employed only in a last resort scenario.”

“This is a last resort scenario,” Rade said.

“Even if you turn off your comm node and Implant,” Pegasus argued. “Your EM emissions won’t match any of the enemy units. They’ll shoot you down.”

“With luck, they’ll think I’m a damaged unit.” Rade switched over to the P1 comm band. “Helium, I want you and the nearby Centurions to shoot at me while I retreat, but make sure your aim is off by a few meters. Do your best to make them believe I’m a threat to you. One of their own.”

“You got it, Chief,” Helium said. “I don’t suppose there’s any way I can change your mind? As Chief, you really shouldn’t be the one doing this.”

Rade hesitated, but then reminded himself why he needed to be the one who placed the hacking device. He couldn’t let anyone else assume the burden of guilt.

“You’ve seen my letter of reprimand,” Rade said. “There’s not much more the navy can do to me. And what’s the LC going to do? Demote me?”

“He very well could,” Helium replied.

Rade shrugged. “It’s happened before. Guess you’ll be the new chief either way, then, whether I live or die. Now... I’m going dark. You’re in charge of the platoon, LPO.”

“Good luck, Chief,” Helium sent.

“Luck has nothing to do with it. I’ll take a good laser rifle or Cobra over luck any day.” To his local AI, he said: “Pegasus, disable comm node.” 

“Disabled,” the AI responded.

Rade deactivated his Implant. The mech’s external motion now depended solely on the actuators cocooning him inside the cockpit. Rade’s movements would feel more sluggish because of that, like trudging through a marsh. He upped the power output of his jumpsuit exoskeleton in preparation.

Rade still had the HUD interface provided by his helmet faceplate, and he navigated through the menus until he found the “tartaan” entry Connie had implemented, and activated it. There was no direct link to the tartaan itself, of course; rather, the alien device had been placed within a sheath whose tactile actuators could simulate the pressure and heat of a human hand wrapping around it. That was the only way they had found to engage the device remotely. 

With the tartaan active, he disabled the suit’s weaker comm node, severing his final connection to the platoon. On the faceplate overhead map, all of the dots froze, their ping times increasing toward infinity.

He concentrated his attention on the external video feed that Pegasus still fed to his faceplate. Without the Implant, his view was constrained by the edges of the helmet once more. Outside, his Knight was sheathed in black mist. The view straight ahead alternated between complete darkness and translucency as the mist covering the camera pulsed in and out.

He took a deep breath, scrambled to his feet, and moved away to the south. His mech and body seemed to move in slow motion, as did everything around him, though conscious thought proved unaffected. He had practiced a few times under these conditions in the simulator, using settings supplied by Connie, and he quickly adapted to the change, using conscious effort to guide his limbs. The resistance of the actuators felt stronger than he had expected; he navigated through the frustratingly slow menus on his faceplate and further upped the output of the exoskeleton to compensate.

Rubble slowly erupted into the air around him, and he knew his own unit was shooting at him, as requested.

Kind of them not to hit me.

It felt almost like he was underwater, given how eerily slow the exploding debris moved. 

He saw two tangos sheltering behind the rubble of a collapsed structure up ahead. He approached them dead on, ready to leap aside at the first sign of attack. They didn’t fire.

Rade ducked into a side alley five meters from them and took a roundabout route past. He was far enough from his platoon that the incoming fire against him had ceased.

He headed west when he was clear of the two tangos, and made his way toward the target site. The path forward was clear.

This might actually work.

Rade moved between the triangular structures in slow motion, occasionally circumventing gelatinous webbing that completely blocked his path. The glowing filaments on the buildings remained a bright red. He had come to understand by now that the color indicated a state of emergency among the enemy.

He occasionally spotted more tangos en route to the battle. The mech-like units approached with their darkness generators inactive, while the smaller Raakarr troops were clad in black mist. Rade always ducked into a side street when he saw either type of unit, and they always passed without bothering him.

I should have deployed this damn thing from the start.

He reached the access node in five minutes. Located at the base of one of the triangular buildings, it was precisely as described to him: a cylindrical tank protruded from the ground with five bright yellow rods arcing outward in a half circle at the top like rays from the sun. Two more of the flat triangular buildings bordered the street on either side, with a rectangular building directly opposite, forming a courtyard of sorts. Enveloping those structures were several large cylinders standing atop thin rods in the street beyond that resembled giant capacitors.

The enemy had decided to place two guards in front of the access node. These were ordinary Raakarr units, clad in darkness.

Kind of them to leave such a minimal number of guards.

Rade had spotted them from afar, and approached stealthily to assume a position atop the roof of the rectangular building. He low-crawled to the edge and fired two simultaneous bursts from his Cobras, sniping them. He leaped down into the central courtyard in slow motion as the two mist-sheathed forms collapsed. He approached the cylindrical tank; as he passed the lifeless mists, he fired two final insurance shots into them from his remaining fully-charged turrets.

He deactivated his tartaan using the interface on his helmet faceplate. The world returned to its normal speed, and the pulsating veil of darkness lifted from his vision.

He separated the Payload Deployment Device from his harness, removed the adhesive backing with the provided switch, and secured the small cube to the access node. A red light began to flash on the surface of the PDD. That meant the malicious code upload was in progress. When it became green after two minutes, that meant the transfer was complete. Not that he would see it:

He disconnected the tartaan from the harness of his mech, looped it around the PDD using the provided cord, and then used the remote interface on his faceplate to activate the darkness generator. The PDD vanished underneath a veil of black mist.

He reactivated his Implant, as well as the comm nodes in his jumpsuit and Knight, and the dots on his overhead map jumped as connection was reestablished with the other platoons. Some of them had managed to edge closer to his position, though they were still surrounded by enemies. Disconcertingly, several blue dots were missing.

“Package has been placed!” Rade sent.

He had been warned that when the alien privilege escalation code began to execute, an internal alarm would trigger, and enemy units would come down hard on his position. He would have to defend the package for two full minutes while the malicious code finished installing. He set a countdown on his HUD for the appropriate amount of time.

On the overhead map, he saw that the red dots surrounding the platoons had begun to retreat westward, toward the node.

“We’re no longer pinned!” Helium sent.

“All units, proceed to the package,” Lieutenant Commander Pine sent. “I repeat, all units, proceed to the package.”

Rade fired his jumpjets and thrust to the top of one of the capacitor-like cylinders overlooking the courtyard. He proceeded to lie flat, directing his aim toward the easternmost approach, where the majority of the enemy was most likely to appear. He waited.

“Chiefs, you might want to use your darkness generators,” Rade sent to all platoons. “There’s a good chance the tangos will ignore you while you’re wearing it. At least for a little while.”

It wasn’t long before he saw the first wave of incoming attackers.

Rade opened fire.

twenty-six

Jonathan clasped his hands, the fingers interlocking tightly over his chest.

A hundred and twenty Avenger fighters were joined by forty fighters from the Talon in circling the Dammerung and the nine ships stacked above it. The enemy surface-to-space defenses occasionally attempted to fire at those smaller craft, but so far had missed each time.

Meanwhile, the swarm of enemy fighters continued their approach.

“Main fleet, stand by to lob all remaining mortars, kinetic kills, and nukes at the incoming fighter swarm,” the admiral sent. “You’ll be firing mag-rails, too, surrounding every mortar with a circular spread of slugs. My AI is sending over the firing solution to your tactical officers now.”

Jonathan understood the latter tactic well enough. The slugs were far smaller than mortars, so when the alien fighters swerved to avoid the big rocks, some of the craft would fly straight into the tiny projectiles. What he didn’t understand was the need to fire every long range weapon they had.

He tapped in the admiral directly. “Admiral, might I suggest we keep some of our long range inventory in reserve?”

“There are three thousand five hundred fighters bearing down on ten of our ships,” the admiral replied. “When those alien fighters close, our long range weapons will be useless.”

“But we might have a need for long range attacks yet,” Jonathan insisted. “We still have the main enemy ships to face out there. Capital ships. Pyramid ships. Laser ships. Fifteen hundred in total. We—”

“It won’t help to keep weapons in reserve for the main enemy if we don’t survive their fighter waves,” Ford interrupted. “Admiral out.”

The tense seconds ticked past. Jonathan watched the thirty-five hundred alien fighters slowly approach.

“Fire everything,” the admiral sent.

Jonathan glanced at his tactical officer. “Miko, initiate the firing solution transmitted by the admiral.”

The ten United Systems ships lobbed all their remaining mortars, kinetic kills, and nukes at the incoming fighter swarm. The mortars were surrounded by the requested circular patterns of slugs from the mag-rails.

“Guess that rules out the ‘nuking from orbit’ option,” Robert commented.

“It’s the planet killer, or nothing,” Jonathan agreed.

Shortly after the launch, Lewis announced: “It appears three thousand of the fighters are decelerating rapidly. Five hundred of them are continuing forward.”

“Sacrificial pawns,” Robert said.

Jonathan nodded. “A gambit I might have made.” His misgivings about lobbing everything they had at the fighters were proving well-founded.

“The five hundred fighters are approaching the weapons line,” Lewis said after several moments.

Jonathan watched as the yellow dots representing the weapons met the incoming wave of red dots. Missiles detonated by the score, taking out one fighter, sometimes two. Nukes detonated in lesser numbers, usually eliminating between three and five fighters. Some of the enemy swerved to avoid the mortars, and in doing so, were ripped apart by the surrounding slugs.

If all thirty-five hundred fighters had come, the long range weapons would have inflicted far more casualties. But since only five hundred had approached, a lot of empty space existed between the detonating missiles. Too much space: the nukes and missiles were essentially squandered. Soon those weapons were gone entirely, leaving only the propulsionless mortars to continue on toward the waiting swarm of enemy fighters.

“How many of the five hundred fighters got through?” Jonathan asked.

“One hundred and forty-nine,” Lewis said.

The main alien fleet continued waking up behind the swarm, judging from the continually brightening red dots on the tactical display. Those capital ships that had rebooted first were now traveling at half their full speed as more of their reactors came online.

The incoming one hundred and forty-nine enemy fighters began to decelerate, so that they wouldn’t fly past the fleet too fast: apparently they wanted to get in as many shots as they could.

“We’re going to fire three successive waves of slugs,” Admiral Ford sent. “I’m sending the firing solution to your tactical officers now.”

“Initiate firing solution when ready,” Jonathan said.

“Done,” Miko said. “Slugs away.”

“How does the solution look?” Jonathan asked.

“It’s reasonable,” Miko said. “But unfortunately, the enemy fighters are moving in zigzag patterns both horizontally and vertically, throwing the targeting way off.”

“They’ve learned from our previous engagements,” Robert said. “They were expecting us to toss slugs at them in a last-ditch effort.”

“We’ll take down some of them, I’m sure,” Jonathan said.

Some proved to be twenty fighters.

“Dispatch half our fighters to intercept the incoming enemy,” the admiral sent. “The remainder are to stay in defensive positions.”

“Maxwell,” Jonathan said. “Relay the order to the space wing commander, and the Talon.”

“Affirmative,” the AI replied.

Half of the defending Avengers and fighters from the Talon broke away to intercept the incoming craft. Some of the enemy slowed down to engage them, the remainder continued on toward the ten United Systems starships. In moments the human ships were receiving strafing runs from the enemy fighters. Jonathan could hear the Callaway’s hull moaning in the distance.

“Ops, sit-rep,” Jonathan said.

“We’re receiving damage from the attack runs,” Lewis said. “We’ve got two breaches so far, on decks three and twelve. But the majority of the enemy fighters are concentrating their attacks on the Dammerung.”

“They definitely no longer care about sparing the planet killer,” Robert said.

“Point defenses are firing continuously,” Lewis said. “Throughout the fleet. The upgrades appear to be working well.”

The fleet ships had upgraded their point defenses as per Harv Boroker’s specification, transferring over some processors from the Vipers to give the mag-rails better acquisition of the enemy fighters.

“And the Avengers are doing their best to stave off the attackers,” Lewis said. “The Dammerung is holding up under the onslaught, so far. But the surface-to-space defenses from the moon continue to fire at the destroyer, so if it loses any of its reactors, and the charged field deactivates, the ship will be lost.”

As will the rest of us.

“Miko, fire lasers at will,” Jonathan said. “Add our Vipers to the point defense efforts. Concentrate on those enemy fighters that are on attack runs meant for the Dammerung.”

Via the tactical display, Jonathan watched as the small craft on both sides repeatedly initiated flybys of one another. Both friendly and enemy fighters had to alternately fight the Delta Vs of the large moon to achieve escape velocity, or cut thrust to dive and fall toward the moon. It couldn’t be easy. He didn’t envy those pilots who flew the manned Avengers out there.

“Sir,” Ensign Lewis said. “The next wave of fighters is accelerating to intercept us. The swarm. And two hundred capital ships are right behind them.”

Without any long range weapons left, Jonathan knew the fleet would never be able to stave off that incredible mass of red.

Even if the MOTHs succeeded, allowing the Dammerung to deploy the planet killer, it was becoming more and more unlikely that the ten United Systems ships would ever escape.

The admiral made one good call at least, and that was to dismiss the sixty other vessels. Because the rest of us are doomed.

RADE REMAINED IN his hide atop the giant capacitor. He aimed at the next incoming mass of darkness in the street below and fired. He moved his reticle to the next target. Got it. The next. Down. Though he unleashed his shots like clockwork in precise bursts, the enemy was coming in too fast for him to get them all, which was why he relied on Pegasus to handle the three remaining Cobra turrets.

Together, the two of them managed to keep the hordes from reaching the access node. He detected the afterimages of infrared pulses on the thermal band, directed toward the access node: some of the enemy were attempting to fire on the package. He had no way to tell if the darkness generated by the tartaan was protecting it. Did the Raakarr modulate their own laser weapons in realtime, using tech similar to what Connie had come up with? If so, Rade had just lost the mission. Then again, even if the enemy lasers did penetrate, there was no guarantee they had actually struck the package hidden within: that mist concealed almost the entire access node, and because of the way it enveloped the irregular object, the geometric center of the darkness was a little below the package and tartaan.

A proximity alert sounded.

“Incoming enemy spotted at six o’clock,” Pegasus said.

Rade glanced at his overhead map. The rear-view camera had picked up more troops approaching the courtyard from the back quarter.

“Could use a little help here,” Rade sent over the comm band.

“Give us a second,” Helium replied.

Rade swung his left arm around behind him, pointing it over the far edge of the capacitor. “Pegasus, cover the rear. I’m handing full control of my left arm assembly over to you.” 

As his left arm jerked about while Pegasus targeted tangos, Rade glanced at the overhead map. He saw that some of the enemy had taken up defensive positions on his front side, to the east, digging in to stave off the approach of the other platoons. That was good, because it gave him more time to defend the front.

Other platoon members were maneuvering into position from behind, and the sides, further staving the enemy flow from those quarters.

In moments, no more enemy units were rushing toward the courtyard. They were all pinned down by the Knight and Titan platoons.

“How’s it look back there?” Rade asked Pegasus.

“All clear,” the AI replied.

“Not a good feeling to have the tables turned on you, is it, you alien bastards?” Rade said, mostly to himself.

“I am sure they are not pleased,” Pegasus replied.

Rade concentrated on scanning the street through his scope.

The timer ticked down at the periphery of his vision. Thirty seconds left.

We’re almost done.

Twenty-five.

We’re actually going to do this.

Twenty.

A big mech appeared in the scope’s field of view. It didn’t have a darkness shield. Rade saw a small device hanging from its chest piece. He guessed it was a larger version of a tartaan. The bottom portion of the device was jagged, as if damaged. Both weapon mounts under its T-shaped torso were shot off. Its two small, grasping forelimbs carried no other armaments that Rade could see.

He aimed his scope at the center of that torso and spotted the Raakarr in the translucent cockpit inside, the alien oblivious to its coming death.

Rade couldn’t help a slight smile.

Goodbye, bitch.

The rooftop underneath him shook and his view abruptly tilted forward. He squeezed the trigger at the same time, missing the target and chewing a long gash into the triangular building across from him instead.

“What the hell?” Rade switched his point of view to his head camera. The giant capacitor underneath him was tipping forward at a precarious angle.

“Some of our pinned opponents launched an attack from behind,” the AI said. “They struck the base of our structure.”

The giant capacitor continued sliding forward so that Rade was thrown off.

He fired his jumpjets to land softly on the ground as the structure collapsed beside him. He spun to get his bearings. The nearby buildings shielded him from the units that had shot at him from behind. Hopefully, the Knights there would pin the tangos down before—

Something smashed into his midsection, sending him flying into a nearby building. He scrambled to his feet, shoving off fragments of the structure that had landed on him.

Movement drew his gaze to the access node. The damaged enemy mech had reached it. Rade lifted one of his Cobras but before he could fire the enemy reached inside the darkness. When his foe removed that robotic forelimb, the dark mist came with it, leaving behind the bare metal of the access node. The darkness faded a moment later: the mech had crushed the tartaan and half of the package in its steel fist. It tossed the pieces aside.

Rade fired at the enemy mech. It leaped suddenly, arcing skyward. Rade tried to track the tango, but it moved too fast and landed on top of him. Rade was smashed into the ground.

He spared a brief moment to glance at the countdown on his HUD. It was only then reaching zero. That meant the upload hadn’t completed. In only a few more seconds it would have finished.

So close, only to fail.

“Engage Lighter,” Rade said.

He heard the buzzing sound as the hull electrified with the equivalent of one million volts.

His arms were pulled upward suddenly and a loud pop rippled across the hull, followed by a crash from somewhere behind him.  On the digital rear-view mirror he saw the enemy mech collide with a triangular wall. Its grasping forelimbs seemed strangely elongated.

“It’s off,” Pegasus said. “Unfortunately, it also ripped away our Cobra mounts with it.”

“What?” So those strange extensions weren’t part of its forelimbs after all. He wished he still had some rockets left. Didn’t matter. He had fought in hand-to-hand combat with a mech numerous times in the past. It was never pretty for his opponents. He might be able to retrieve the Cobra mounts and use them manually if they weren’t too badly damaged.

He spun around to face the mech. The enemy stood up from the large dent it had carved in the triangular structure, and dropped one of the Cobras to the ground. It twisted the other into a neat pretzel before tossing it aside, then picked up the other Cobra, probably intending to do the same with that one.

“You little shit.” Rade rushed the mech.

The foe managed to bend the second Cobra, tossing it aside seconds before Rade struck. Because of the sorry state of both Cobras, he definitely wouldn’t be able to utilize them.

The mech yielded before his onslaught and the pair smashed into the nearby wall. They grappled with one another, two steel giants fighting for dominance.

The enemy wrapped its forelimbs around his torso and squeezed.

Rade heard a sound like the ripping of metal, and then the inner actuators of the cockpit compressed slightly around his body.

“Uh...” Rade said.

“He’s crushing your cockpit,” Pegasus said.

“I figured that out,” Rade replied.

The Lighter required a full sixty seconds to recharge before he could use it again, and unfortunately only fifteen of those seconds had passed.

“Could really use some backup here...” Rade transmitted.

“Working on it,” one of the other platoon chiefs replied.

Rade attempted to get his arms under those forelimbs, hoping to break free, but he couldn’t find purchase. He decided to reach around the torso of his foe and squeeze the enemy cockpit in return.

“Danger, cockpit pressure reaching critical levels,” Pegasus said. “Computer core damage imminent.”

Rade fired his rear jumpjets, slamming the enemy into the building. That did it: the hold loosened enough for him to break free. He pulled his mech upward, so that he stood on top of that cockpit, and then he pounded at the translucent shell that covered the enemy’s torso. Cracks formed. Rade kept pounding, intending to break through.

He heard a keening sound from above.

“Alien bombers!” Helium said.

Before he realized what had happened, Rade found himself hurtled to the opposite side of the courtyard. The building he had stood beside only moments ago had been reduced to rubble, as had the buildings beyond it for several streets away. The cylindrical access node, to his left, remained intact.

Idiots, Rade thought. If they really wanted to stop us, they should have targeted their access node with the bombs.

Then again, maybe they had. Maybe its connection to the main defenses was now severed, regardless of whether the node was intact or not.

Rade tried to stand.

“Malfunction,” Pegasus said. “My computing core has been damaged. I’m shutting down to preserve the holographic drives.”

“Pegasus,” Rade said. “You can’t leave me like this.” The gentle background hum that he always heard inside the cockpit subsided as the mech powered down. “Pegasus? Shit.”

The actuators retracted and Rade fell to the bottom of the cockpit. He activated his helmet lamp, because he couldn’t see a thing. He found the manual lever for the hatch, opened it, and pressed the door aside. He flung himself onto the ruined street outside. He remained prostrate. The yellow hue of the alien atmosphere was even more pronounced outside his mech. Or was that just the dust thrown into the sky from the air strike?

He checked his rad levels, as displayed on the faceplate of his helmet. Dangerously high. Accounting for the shielding in the jumpsuit, and the anti-rad subdermals installed in his skin, his Implant estimated his survival at about an hour.

If I’m still out here an hour from now, we’re all dead anyway.

He glanced at his overhead map. Half the platoons had been wiped out. He shook his head in sadness. Most of the lost Knights and Titans were autonomous, but that didn’t make their deaths any easier to take.

“Sit-rep,” Rade sent over the comm.

Voices began to answer him, but he scarcely heard because ahead of him debris flew aside and a robotic forelimb emerged.

Still lying down, Rade twisted to scramble backward as the enemy mech dragged its body out of the rubble and across the ground. Only its one forelimb seemed functional.  

He retrieved the small blaster from his utility belt and opened fire. The translucent cockpit area of the enemy wasn’t visible—that part of the mech scraped along the ground. So Rade simply fired at the head region. The tango jerked a few times, then finally stopped moving.

Rade released a few more shots for good measure. Then he cast his gaze around the courtyard, searching for the Payload Deployment Device. There it was, its metal shell crumpled beside the ruined tartaan.

He heard a loud clang. Glancing toward the mech, he saw that a door had opened on its back.

Above him, a shadow blotted out the sun. He glanced up and caught a blur of motion a moment before something struck him.

Mandibles and claws scraped at his suit. His helmet glass spidered as some sort of proboscis struck it repeatedly. He turned his head to the side, rotating the faceplate out of harm’s way, then gave the Raakarr several quick strength-enhanced punches to the thorax. The stunned creature paused its attack long enough for Rade to retrieve the blaster he had dropped beside him. He swung it toward the Raakarr, which screeched terribly at him.

Rade fired, drilling a hole through its segmented abdomen.

“Fuck you, too.”

The Raakarr collapsed on him. He flung it aside. It landed on its carapace, jointed legs crimping up like a dead insect.

For the first time, he noticed that a warning light was flashing on his faceplate. He realized he had a small suit breach, and was venting air. He glanced at his thigh. White mist streamed out.

Struggling to see through the cracks spidering his faceplate, he opened up the cargo pocket in his leg, retrieved the necessary patch kit, and sealed the breach.

When he looked up from that work, he realized several dark mists had joined him in the courtyard, surrounding him. The large variants: enemy mechs, then. They towered over him, likely with weapons trained on him at that very moment.

He was starting to wish he hadn’t been so quick to throw the Raakarr corpse off of him.

I should have played dead.

He dropped the pistol and raised his hands in surrender.

The darkness generators faded.

Knights and Titans stood before him.

Rade exhaled in utter relief. He glanced at his overhead map. Sure enough, the units were all represented as blue dots.

My fault for not checking the map first.

He realized that not all of the mechs present were piloted by chiefs. He spotted Helium among the group. Either they’d fetched the generators from fallen chiefs, or downed Raakarr. But it couldn’t be the latter, since the MOTHs needed those custom sleeves to activate them.

Too many of us have fallen.

“Did the upload complete?” one of the chiefs asked.

“There were only a few seconds left.” Rade hurried to the crumpled device and picked it up. The darkness generator connected to it was useless, but he saw a red light inside the dented outer container of the PDD. Perhaps it was still active.

“Ours are still intact.” Another chief stepped forward, carrying his own bricklike PDD.

Rade held out a hand. “Hold. If you place yours, the process will start over. In theory mine will continue the upload from where it left off.”

“But yours is obviously damaged...”

“I’m seeing a red light inside it,” Rade said. “It might still work. Let me try at least.”

Rade walked to the access node and placed the device against it. The adhesive refused to stick, so he held it there with his glove and waited.

“Is what he says true, LC?” a chief asked. “Will the package continue the upload if its undamaged?”

“It will,” Pine’s voice confirmed a moment later.

“The light’s flashing,” Rade said. “Patch installation seems to be continuing.” Or rather, he hoped it was, rather than starting the process over again from scratch.

No doubt some internal alarm was being triggered once again. Sure enough:

“Incoming tangos,” someone said.

The Knights and Titans assumed a defensive formation on the far edge of the courtyard, toward the debris.

Five seconds passed. The light on the package turned green.

“LC,” Rade said. “Payload has been delivered.”

“Roger that,” the LC replied. “I’m informing the fleet as we speak. Well done, MOTHs. Proceed to boosters!”

Helium hurried toward Rade while the others provided cover. “Need a lift?”

“We have to save Pegasus’ computing core,” Rade said.

Helium piloted his Knight over to the fallen mech, ripped away a side panel, and retrieved the long, cylindrical AI core from within. He stowed it in the passenger seat.

“Happy?” Helium asked.

“Never happier.” Rade climbed aboard the passenger seat and buckled in beside the AI core.

Helium activated his purloined tartaan, enclosing Rade and the mech. The veil of darkness descended around him, pulsing between opaque and translucent as time slowed.

No doubt the fleet was in the process of launching the planet killer at that very moment. Once it was away, the MOTHs had roughly twenty minutes before the bomb actually detonated.

Rade glanced at the location of the booster rockets on his overhead map. As planned, the gear had dropped fairly close to the access node.

If the platoons didn’t encounter too much resistance, they might actually make it.

Assuming of course that the malicious code patch had actually worked, because if it hadn’t, and the alien defenses were still online, the MOTHs were in for a hell of a flight into orbit.

twenty-seven

Jonathan stared at the red mass of ships on his display. The Avengers and fighters from the Talon had staved off the first wave of enemy craft. But there was nothing to stop the incoming second wave. The literal swarm of alien fighters would make contact in roughly five minutes.

At which point the human fleet would cease to exist.

“Captain, we just received word that the MOTHs completed their mission,” Lazur said.

“Has the admiral been notified?” Jonathan asked.

“She has.”

“Ops, what does the Callaway’s CDC have to say?” Jonathan said. “Are the defenses really offline?”

“We haven’t detected any thermal spikes from the surface for the past minute,” Ensign Lewis replied. “And the particle beams have stopped firing. All sextants appear clear. The MOTHs must have succeeded.”

“It could be a ruse by the enemy,” Robert said. “To deceive us into launching the planet killer early.”

Jonathan nodded absently. “Could be. But the decision is the admiral’s to make. And I doubt it’s going to be an easy one.”

He certainly wouldn’t have wanted to be the one to give the order.

“Sir,” Ensign Lewis said. “The Dammerung just launched the planet killer.”

“So it’s done,” Jonathan said. “There’s no going back now.”

Because the planet killer wasn’t meant to pass into the core of a star, it utilized the traditional deployment mechanism first pioneered by the Sino-Koreans: when launched, the bomb and its decoys would descend to optimal deployment altitude, at which point the delivery vehicles—and more decoys—would separate, expanding across the upper atmosphere toward the equidistant points of an imaginary sphere in orbit.

When in place, the delivery vehicles would steer around any darkness generators or other obstacles to slam into the surface of the colony in rapid succession and then drill deep into the crust. As the DVs reached their optimal depth, timing modules activated, preventing detonation until the remaining warheads arrived at their preprogrammed positions.

When every warhead was properly situated beneath the crust of the target, the primers activated in unison, detonating the geronium cores simultaneously planet-wide, initiating a devastating explosion that ripped away the surface and essentially killed the world. Even if merely eighty percent of the warheads detonated, tearing off only a portion of the crust, the catastrophic changes to the geosphere would be enough to destroy any world.

Given the size of the current target, it would take approximately twenty minutes for all the delivery vehicles to attain detonation positions beneath the crust.

That meant the ten ships in orbit had to survive for at least that long if they hoped to escape.

“Main fleet,” Admiral Ford sent. “Recall and dock Avengers immediately. Then proceed to higher orbit in preparation for planet killer detonation.”

As he waited for the Callaway’s surviving Avengers to dock, he turned his attention to the ops station.

“Is the planet killer or its decoys recording any incoming anti-aircraft fire yet?” Jonathan asked.

“So far everything is quiet down there,” Lewis said. “The delivery vehicles have already deployed, and they’re spreading out in the upper atmosphere. I think the MOTHs really did succeed.”

We might actually win this after all, at least in terms of completing the mission.

Jonathan wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. And completing the mission was one thing, but surviving at the end? That was something else altogether.

“Are any of the fighters or other enemy ships attempting to intercept the delivery vehicles?” Jonathan asked.

“Negative,” Lewis replied. “All of their attention is on us. I’m not sure they’ve even realized we’ve launched the planet killer yet.”

The United Systems ships began breaking away to a higher orbit as their respective Avengers finished docking.

“Eager to get out of orbit, aren’t they?” Robert said.

“It’s every man for himself at this point, Commander,” Jonathan said.

“Truly?” Robert said.

“It might as well be,” Jonathan replied.

“The last of the Callaway’s Avengers is aboard,” Miko announced.

“Helm, take us out,” Jonathan ordered.

The Talon was the last of them: as soon as its remaining fighters were mounted to its hull, it followed after the fleet, closing readily.

“Ops,” Jonathan said. “Given the current Delta V requirements, will we achieve a safe distance before detonation?”

“We will,” Lewis replied. “But just barely.”

He glanced at the red mass on his tactical display. The enemy capital ships were too far away, he thought, but the fighters... “What about the incoming alien fighter swarm? Will we escape them in time?”

Lewis shook her head. “They’re already moving at full acceleration. While we’re still struggling to achieve escape velocity, their front ranks will begin reaching us.”

“How many fighters are we talking about in those front ranks?”

“In the front ranks alone?” the ensign said. “Eight hundred. The other twenty-two hundred will follow shortly.”

Jonathan sighed.

“We have no nukes or other kinetic kills,” Robert said. “No mortars.”

“But we still have lasers,” Jonathan said. “And more importantly, mag-rails.”

“I’m not sure the mag-rails are going to make much of a difference,” Miko said. “The fighters, and the capital ships beyond them, are approaching in random zig-zag patterns. It’ll make targeting with successive slug waves very difficult, if not impossible. Especially without mortars or nukes to herd them.”

“Too bad we don’t have any of those 3D-printed decoys left,” Robert said. “We could have used them right about now.”

Jonathan studied his display.

There had to be a way to herd them into the slug waves without mortars or nukes. They could use Avengers, perhaps... then again, Avengers were too small for effective herding. And they made extremely expensive mortars.

Perhaps the successive waves of slugs themselves could be aimed so as to herd the enemy. If the slugs could force the swarm to dive toward the moon and its exploding crust, the problem would be solved.

He activated his noise canceler around himself, wanting—no, needing—complete silence. He wracked his brain, going over all his previous engagements with the Raakarr, searching for some actionable strategy. He mentally reviewed everything Barrick had told him about the aliens, too, and what he had learned firsthand while aboard the Talon.

There has to be a weakness we haven’t exploited yet. Something that will catch them completely by surprise.

And then he had it. Or at least, a potential idea.

He retracted the noise canceler.

“Lazur,” Jonathan said. “Get me Barrick. Put him on the bridge circuit.”

The telepath tapped in a moment later.

“Barrick,” Jonathan said. “You told me once that the Raakarr viewed the world as a series of point clouds. They see in point clouds, they think in point clouds, they communicate in point clouds. If we can fire our slugs in certain patterns, would it be possible to make the Raakarr believe that a solid object was approaching, say a mortar? I guess what I’m saying is, do their computers and AIs think and interpret information the same way the Raakarr themselves do?”

“I’ll ask Valor,” Barrick replied.

“You intend to herd them with ghosts?” Robert asked.

“That’s precisely what I intend to do, Commander,” Jonathan said.

Barrick responded a moment later, his voice carrying on the bridge circuit so that everyone present could hear: “Valor tells me that yes, their sensors work the same way as their vision, returning information in point clouds. In theory, during the heat of battle they could very well mistake a properly-arranged slug cloud for a solid object.”

“Any specifics I should be made aware of?” Jonathan asked.

“Well, the slugs forming the points of the involved illusion must have a minimum diameter of twenty-five millimeters, and be uniformly distributed across the frontal surfaces of the intended imaginary object, with a maximum separation of one meter between each point. Heat signatures must be present as well, of course. And it will only work up to fifty kilometers... the AIs aboard the fighters will realize the slugs aren’t actual solids within that range.”

“By then it will be too late,” Jonathan said. “Miko, is it doable? Can we create the illusion of warships?”

“It’ll be tricky,” Miko said. “None of our slugs meet the minimum twenty-five millimeter diameter. We’ll have to clump six slugs together to form something big enough to register as an individual point in the cloud. They’ll have to come together at just the right angle and momentum to proceed forward as a unit, with other dots, to form the ghost ships.”

“So is it doable, or is it not?”

“It’s doable,” Miko said. “But we’ll have to involve the other nine ships if we’re to have any hope of achieving it.”

“But we’re all random distances apart by now,” Jonathan said.

“I know,” Miko replied. “We’ll have to account for the separation of the ships, too. Maybe lining us up a bit better before firing.”

“What are we going to use for the heat signatures?” Robert asked.

“Maxwell,” Jonathan said. “If we fired the individual lasers in our Viper banks at low power, could we heat certain elements of the point cloud enough to mimic the thermal signatures of our warships?”

“In theory, yes,” the Callaway’s AI said. “But heat dissipates quickly in the void, so I’d have to coordinate with the AIs of the other ships to repeatedly fire our Vipers in succession to ensure the necessary elements remained heated.”

“The enemy will detect the rising heat signatures produced by our lasers,” Robert said. “They’ll know we’re firing.”

“But they won’t know at what we’re firing,” Jonathan said. “Am I right, Miko?”

“You are,” Miko replied. “Though I’m sure they’ll suspect subterfuge of some kind.”

Jonathan smiled deviously. “They’ll suspect, yes. But they won’t realize what we’re doing until too late.” He tapped in both the vice admiral and the admiral and explained his plan.

“It’s worth a shot,” Admiral Ford told him. “Proceed. I’ll instruct the AIs of our ships to await the Callaway’s firing solution for both Vipers and mag-rails. I’ll have our ships line up a bit better until then.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” He ended the connection. “You heard me relay the plan to the admiral, Miko?”

“I did, Captain,” the tactical officer replied.

“Good. I want you to work with Maxwell, and have the AI interface with the other starships of the battle group. Come up with a firing solution for our ten ships. Mag-rails and Vipers. To recap, make it look like five of our destroyers are breaking off to intercept the enemy. Herd them toward the moon, and if there is enough inventory, place a spread of slugs above the destroyers to catch any enemy units that try to escape into a higher orbit. You’ll have to update the laser barrage in realtime to account for the repositioning of the fleet immediately after the launch.”

“On it.”

Jonathan waited impatiently while the swarm grew ever closer. On his tactical display, he saw the ten ships move into firing position, and then hold.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you have a firing solution, Miko?”

“Almost.”

He waited longer.

“Miko, now would be a good time...”

“Got it.”

“Fire!” Jonathan said. “Lazur, send the order to reposition the fleet.”

As soon as the slugs were away, the ten vessels modified their formation, with every second vessel moving in behind the ship just above it, combining their heat signatures and giving the illusion, from the point of view of the enemy swarm in orbit, that there were only five stacked ships, with five more breaking off to intercept the aliens.

“What if the enemy have other sensors on the surface that haven’t gone offline?” Robert said. “And they can see we’ve merely rearranged our vessels?”

“I’m hoping their moon-side sensors were on the same circuit as the defenses we already took offline,” Jonathan said.

“It’s working,” Lewis said. “I’m reading multiple short range laser attacks from the alien fighters, and they’re firing their own slugs at the ghosts.”

Robert glanced at Jonathan. “Will they realize their attacks are passing right through the incoming targets?”

Jonathan felt his stomach knot up. I don’t know, Commander.

“Enemy fighters are dispersing!” Lewis said. “Most are diving toward the colony, as planned. Roughly twenty percent are steering into the subsequent slug waves.”

Swaths of red vanished from the display as fighters were impacted by the secondary waves.

New blue dots appeared on the tactical display, some distance ahead of the fleet.

“What are those?” Jonathan asked.

“Mechs attached to booster rockets.” Ensign Lewis looked up. “It’s the MOTHs.”

“Miko, do we have time to decelerate to docking speed?” Jonathan asked.

“Don’t think so,” the tactical officer said. “We’ll be cutting it extremely close.”

“Maxwell?” Jonathan said.

“The lieutenant is correct,” the AI replied. “If we slow to docking speed, our chances of successfully escaping the detonation are only fifty-five percent.”

Jonathan pressed his lips together. He suddenly saw Famina’s face floating before his mind’s eye. He remembered the words she had told him on the mountain as if she had spoken yesterday.

Why won’t anyone help me?

Those words hardened Jonathan, and he made his decision: “We’re not leaving them, goddamnit. No one gets left behind on my watch. Slow to docking speed, helm. We’re collecting those mechs. Maxwell, see if any of the other ships want to join us. We’ll need at least two volunteers to get them all, by my estimate.”

“Two other vessels have volunteered,” Maxwell replied a moment later.

“Good, inform the MOTHs to head for our three vessels. Let me know when you have our men.”

Several seconds passed. Jonathan watched the seven remaining ships drift away from the Callaway and the other two that remained behind.

Was I a fool to do this?

No, we had to try.

“Got them,” Maxwell finally said.

“Helm, full speed,” Jonathan said. “Rejoin the rest of the fleet. Get us the hell out of here.”

“It’s not going to be enough...” Miko said.

“Helm, emergency speed,” Jonathan said. He glanced at Miko. The tactical officer shook his head.

The captain tapped in Stanley. “I’m going to need you to give me everything this shitbucket has.”

“Shitbucket!” the chief engineer replied in outrage. “Did you just call my ship a shitbucket? Only I’m allowed to do that!”

“Stanley,” Jonathan said. “We need everything you have. Right now.”

“I’m already giving you a hundred and ten percent!” the chief engineer replied.

“Well we need a hundred and fifty!” He tapped out.

He stared at the positional dots and velocity indicators on the tactical display. The Callaway wasn’t moving any faster. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach.

I should have sacrificed the MOTHs. Instead, I’ve sacrificed my whole crew.

“Speed is increasing,” Miko announced.

“Thank you, Stanley,” Jonathan said softly.

“It’s not Stanley,” Miko replied. “The Talon fired grappling hooks into our nose. They’re towing us.”

He glanced at the tactical display. Sure enough, the Talon had maneuvered just in front of them, and the Callaway had matched its velocity vector. The two other ships that had decelerated to collect the mechs were slowly falling behind.

“What about the other two?” Jonathan said.

Miko didn’t answer.

On his aReal, an alert popped up. It was a call from Lieutenant Connie Myers.

“Kind of busy right now, Lieutenant,” Jonathan said.

“Got some important news,” Connie said. “I’ve been analyzing our recordings of the planet. I think that moon down there isn’t merely a colony. Take a look at these pictures.” Images cycled across Jonathan’s aReal. Everywhere, he saw odd flat buildings that reminded him of the components of a circuit board. Waxlike structures hung between them. Black dots covered most of them. Subsequent, higher-resolution pictures revealed those dots to be Raakarr.

“What am I looking at?”

“I believe they’re Raakarr dwellings,” the lieutenant sent. “They cover eighty percent of the land masses, at least on this side of the moon. If this is truly a colony like the Zarafe have led us to believe, then it’s a densely populated one.”

“Are you telling me the five million figure is off?”

“Very much so,” Connie replied. “Extrapolating from the Raakarr I’ve detected in and around the structures I’ve scanned, I’d estimate the population to be closer to five billion, at least. Probably much more. And that’s just on this side of the moon.”

The Callaway shook violently.

“What was that?” Jonathan asked his ops officer.

“The shockwave from the planet killer,” Lewis said. “It’s detonated. Have a look at external camera R18.”

Jonathan switched to the point of view of the aforementioned camera. The crust had completely broken away and was expanding outward in a vaguely spherical shape. The moon’s size otherwise appeared unchanged—though one hundred kilometers thick, the crust only made up one percent of the colony’s mass. The upper mantle underneath appeared a bright red where the detonations had liquefied the silicates; that layer was rapidly cooling, forming a new, dead crust. Dark blotches marked the regions that had already solidified.

On the tactical display, which still overlaid the video feed, the red swarm vanished as the expanding crust collided with the enemy ships and fighters still in orbit. Miraculously, one of the trailing United Systems ships had survived. There was no sign of the other.

Miko whistled. “Look at that crust expand. It’s truly a marvel to behold. You’re looking at the first live footage of a planet killer detonated against a live target, people.”

Jonathan forgave the tactical officer’s coldness in that moment. None of the bridge crew would have heard what Connie just told him.

He simply stared at that image, feeling as if a sudden crushing weight had set upon his body. If he wasn’t sitting down, he would have collapsed.

“It seems a few of the more distant laser ships survived the detonation,” Ensign Lewis said. “They’re transmitting a gamma ray beam toward us. A communication attempt, I think.”

Jonathan continued to stare at the exploding moon.

“Sir, what do you want to do?” Lewis said. “Sir?”

“What?” Jonathan said when he realized she was talking to him.

“I’m detecting an incoming gamma ray from the surviving Raakarr vessels,” she repeated. “They’re attempting communications.”

“Lazur, tell Barrick to find out what they want,” Jonathan said distractedly. “And tap him in so he can give me the news directly.”

“Apparently they want to surrender,” Barrick returned a moment later. “Instead of self-destructing like they normally do.”

“That wasn’t a colony world, was it?” Jonathan asked Barrick.

“No, Captain, it was not,” Barrick replied. “We just destroyed the Elk homeworld.”

twenty-eight

Maxwell,” Jonathan said. “Do we still need the Talon to tow us?”

“Negative,” the Callaway’s AI replied. “We have achieved sufficient velocity.”

“Cut us away, Barrick,” Jonathan transmitted. “I want your slimy hands off our ship.”

“You have been released,” Barrick replied a moment later.

“You knew all this time, didn’t you?” Jonathan sent. “You knew Valor was lying to us. And you didn’t say a word.”

“I knew,” Barrick said. “But not because Valor told me. I’ve foreseen this moment. But unfortunately, the alternative path was no better. If we failed in this mission, the Raakarr would have come to Earth instead, and we would be the ones suffering the loss of our homeworld. This was the lesser of two evils. But I suppose it doesn’t matter, anyway.”

“Why?”

Barrick didn’t answer.

“Tell me what you know, Barrick,” Jonathan said.

“It’s not over for humanity, not yet,” Barrick said. “Believe me when I tell you that the safety of the Earth is still gravely at stake.”

“I’ve had enough of your riddles and doublespeak,” Jonathan said. “Can’t you speak plainly for once? If you had told us that this was a homeworld in advance, we could have factored in the terrible cost and found another way. Spared billions of innocent lives.”

“Yes, only to see the Elk Raakarr come to Earth and nuke our homeworld instead,” Barrick replied. “Did you not hear a word I just said?”

Jonathan closed his eyes.

The deceitful bastard...

He tapped in the admiral and explained the situation.

“Their homeworld, you say?” Ford said. “Well, at least now we know why this was so damn hard.”

It was a cold remark, perhaps to hide the shock she must have felt. Or perhaps she truly didn’t care.

“Thank you, Captain Dallas,” the admiral continued stiffly. “I will inform the fleet of this tragedy.” She ended the connection.

“I’m detecting gamma rays from some of the other moons orbiting the ice giant,” Lewis said.

Jonathan tapped in Barrick.

“Colonists on the other moons are similarly issuing their surrenders,” Barrick explained.

“They have more than one colony in the system?” Jonathan remembered the signs of terraforming that had been detected on three of the moons. He had assumed the Raakarr had merely been practicing terraforming on those moons, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the aliens had actually fully colonized them.

“Yes. There are another five million colonists distributed throughout the moon system, in addition to the fifty eight billion who had resided on the homeworld.”

Jonathan nearly keeled over in his seat. “Fifty eight billion...?”

“That is correct.”

JONATHAN ADJOURNED TO his office to get away for a while. He retrieved the bottle of Scotch he kept hidden in his vault, cracked it open, and filled up a glass.

“Well Maxwell, I guess you’re fairly happy right now,” Jonathan said.

“Why would you say that, Captain?” the Callaway’s AI asked.

“Because,” Jonathan said. “We’ve completely eliminated the threat posed by the Raakarr. Beaten them utterly into submission.”

“They very likely have other colony worlds distributed throughout this region of the galaxy,” Maxwell replied. “But you’re right, we’ve beaten them into submission for the time being. Or one of their main factions in any case. What worries me, Captain, is what the other faction is going to do now. Perhaps the Elk were the only ones holding the Zarafe in check. They may very well proliferate now.”

“You think the Zarafe plan to eventually attack Earth?” Jonathan said. “Despite the peace treaty we’ve signed?”

“We already know they are capable of treachery,” Maxwell said.

“We do indeed.”

The door chime announced a visitor.

“Come in, Commander,” Jonathan said.

Robert stepped inside.

“Have a seat,” Jonathan said.

Robert sat across from him.

“Drowning your sorrows?” Robert asked when he saw the glass.

“I’m sure as hell not celebrating,” Jonathan said. “Would you like a glass? It’s a hundred-and-ten-year-old vintage.”

“No thank you,” Robert said. “But I appreciate the offer.”

Jonathan took a long sip, then smacked his lips appreciatively. The hit made him forget his sorrows, if only for a moment.

He had only to look at the grim face of the commander for the pain of what the fleet had done to come rushing right back.

“We destroyed a homeworld,” Jonathan said. “For the benefit of a rogue alien faction. Killed... no, murdered, fifty eight billion inhabitants. Our behavior is inexcusable.”

“We acted on misinformation,” Maxwell said. “We didn’t purposely collude with the rogue faction in question.”

“Didn’t we?” Jonathan said. “The Zarafe told us we were attacking a colony world, and we wanted so badly to believe them that we didn’t bother to make extensive scans on our own. It was only moments before the detonation, when one of our own began to review the results of her surface analysis, that we realized what we had done.”

“There’s no excusing the morality of it,” Robert said. “As far as I’m concerned, we should have never bombed the moon in the first place, when we thought it was merely a colony world of five million inhabitants. Exercising a modicum of restraint would have spared us all this grief. And who knows what other misinformation the Zarafe have fed us? I’m surprised Ford still allows the Talon to be part of our fleet.”

“We need a way to communicate with the remaining Raakarr,” Maxwell said. “That rules out dismissing the Talon.”

“We could always dispatch Barrick to one of the other alien vessels that have surrendered,” Robert said.

“It’s a possibility I’m sure the admiral is considering,” Jonathan said.

“On the bridge, I overheard what you told Barrick,” Robert said. “That he knew we attacked a homeworld. How? Did Valor inform him, and he neglected to share that important tidbit with us?”

“No,” Jonathan said. “Or at least, he claims Valor didn’t tell him.”

“Then how would he know?”

Jonathan sighed. “Barrick says his telepathic link with that original Raakarr enabled him to see the future. Or parts of it, anyway. But he refuses to reveal any of it. And he has never given me any solid proof.”

“Probably another of his lies,” Robert said.

“Probably,” Jonathan said. “But even if he’s telling the truth, his ability is useless to us if he won’t share what he knows. After we destroyed the Elk homeworld, he did tell me something else that was disturbing...”

“And what was that?”

Jonathan opened his mouth, but then hesitated. He wasn’t sure he should relate the information to Robert. But as he looked at the commander’s face, stared into his eyes, he decided the first officer deserved to know.

“He told me Earth would have fallen at the hands of the Raakarr if we hadn’t eliminated the Elk homeworld. But then he kind of reversed that statement by saying it didn’t even really matter, because the safety of Earth was still at stake. But he didn’t explain why.”

“Has to be the Elder,” Robert said. “Remember, they’re supposedly watching us. Judging us. If that’s true, then we’ve definitely just proven ourselves unworthy of the planet killer. If the Elder eliminate Earth, guess who the overall winner in all of this is?”

“The Zarafe,” Jonathan said.

Robert nodded. “Exactly right. They’re the true masters of the game, here. I guess we’ll find out the truth soon enough, when we finish the return Gate five months from now.”

“Five months...” Jonathan said. “I just hope the Earth is still there by the time we get back.”

RADE SAT IN the MOTH berthing area aboard the Callaway. His noise canceler was raised so that nobody would hear the conversation he was having with the hologram of his daughter, Sil, who appeared to be sitting on the vacant bunk opposite him.

“You did good out there, kiddo,” Rade said. Hers was one of the sixty ships that had been directed to engage the rebooting enemy vessels. When the Raakarr had begun to awaken, quick thinking on her part had saved twenty trapped vessels.

“Just doing my duty,” Sil said. “As you would.”

Rade grimaced. “Duty.” He spat the word.

“Still blaming yourself for what happened?” Sil said.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not really. Well maybe a little.”

“We’ve been through this already. I think you need to talk to the counselor again. How could it be your fault the Raakarr lost their homeworld? You didn’t even know it was a homeworld.”

“But I could tell when I was down there that the population density was pretty high.” 

“Could you?” Sil said. “I’m not so sure. You saw a mere colony because that’s what you expected to see, what you were told you would see. You were just following orders down there.”

“Famous last words by soldiers about to commit a war crime.”

“You won’t face war crime charges for what you’ve done,” Sil said. “It’s impossible.”

“Oh I know,” Rade said. “But maybe I should be held accountable for it.”

“Why, because your conscience demands it?”

“Not my conscience, but my logical mind. Because, well, it’s funny... I don’t even really feel that guilty. Somehow it seems easier to deal with this than some of the other slaughters I’ve played a part in over the course of my ‘distinguished’ career. Firsthand deaths, where I could see the pain written in the face of my opponent as I twisted the knife home or shot them at point blank range. In this case, all I did was attach a black box to a steel canister and hotfoot it the hell out of there. I didn’t see the faces of any of the billions of lives that were lost. Not a one. Actually no, that’s not true. I did see one.”

“Who?”

“At one point down there, I had to eject from my Knight and a Raakarr attacked me,” Rade said. “The alien punctured my suit, and nearly broke open my faceplate. I can still see those ugly mandibles and insectoid features whenever I close my eyes. And I think, did it have a daughter, too? If so, she’s dead now. They’re all dead.”

Rade placed his head in his hands.

Sil’s soothing voice drifted to him. “It’s not your fault, dad. It’s not. All of us share equal blame in this.”

Rade nodded slowly. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course I do,” Sil said. “There was never anything to forgive.”

“Not for this,” Rade said. “But for what I intend to do.”

She seemed taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

Rade smiled wanly. “When the time comes to pay the price for what we’ve done, I’m going to be the first in line, Sil.”

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postscript

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about the author

USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.

acknowledgments

THANK YOU to my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Amy B., Lisa A. G., Gregg C., Jeff K., Mark C., Jeremy G., Doug B., Jenny O., Bryan O., Lezza M., Gene A., Larry J., Allen M., Gary F., Eric, Robine, Noel, Anton, Spencer, Norman, Trudi, Corey, Erol, Terje, David, Charles, Walter, Lisa, Ramon, Chris, Scott, Michael, Chris, Bob, Jim, Maureen, Zane, Chuck, Shayne, Anna, Dave, Roger, Nick, Gerry, Charles, Annie, Patrick, Mike, Jeff, Lisa, Jason, Bryant, Janna, Tom, Jerry, Chris, Jim, Brandon, Kathy, Norm, Jonathan, Derek, Shawn, Judi, Eric, Rick, Bryan, Barry, Sherman, Jim, Bob, Ralph, Darren, Michael, Chris, Michael, Julie, Glenn, Rickie, Rhonda, Neil, Claude, Ski, Joe, Paul, Larry, John, Norma, Jeff, David, Brennan, Phyllis, Robert, Darren, Daniel, Montzalee, Robert, Dave, Diane, Peter, Skip, Louise, Dave, Brent, Erin, Paul, Jeremy, Dan, Garland, Sharon, Dave, Pat, Nathan, Max, Martin, Greg, David, Myles, Nancy, Ed, David, Karen, Becky, Jacob, Ben, Don, Carl, Gene, Bob, Luke, Teri, Gerald, Lee, Rich, Ken, Daniel, Chris, Al, Andy, Tim, Robert, Fred, David, Mitch, Don, Tony, Dian, Tony, John, Sandy, James, David, Pat, Jean, Bryan, William, Roy, Dave, Vincent, Tim, Richard, Kevin, George, Andrew, John, Richard, Robin, Sue, Mark, Jerry, Rodger, Rob, Byron, Ty, Mike, Gerry, Steve, Benjamin, Anna, Keith, Jeff, Josh, Herb, Bev, Simon, John, David, Greg, Larry, Timothy, Tony, Ian, Niraj, Maureen, Jim, Len, Bryan, Todd, Maria, Angela, Gerhard, Renee, Pete, Hemantkumar, Tim, Joseph, Will, David, Suzanne, Steve, Derek, Valerie, Laurence, James, Andy, Mark, Tarzy, Christina, Rick, Mike, Paula, Tim, Jim, Gal, Anthony, Ron, Dietrich, Mindy, Ben, Steve, Paddy & Penny, Troy, Marti, Herb, Jim, David, Alan, Leslie, Chuck, Dan, Perry, Chris, Rich, Rod, Trevor, Rick, Michael, Tim, Mark, Alex, John, William, Doug, Tony, David, Sam, Derek, John, Jay, Tom, Bryant, Larry, Anjanette, Gary, Travis, Jennifer, Henry, Drew, Michelle, Bob, Gregg, Billy, Jack, Lance, Sandra, Libby, Jonathan, Karl, Bruce, Clay, Gary, Sarge, Andrew, Deborah, Steve, and Curtis.

Without you all, this novel would have typos, continuity errors, and excessive lapses in realism. Thank you for helping me make Planet Killer the best military science fiction novel it could possibly be, and thank you for leaving the early reviews that help new readers find my books.

And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my mother, father, and brothers, whose untiring wisdom and thought-provoking insights have always guided me through the untamed warrens of life.

— Isaac Hooke

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