Chapter One

Retirement Party

Captain Henry Kuttner looked out over the remains of his retirement party and nursed his hangover.

The small officer’s mess was just that, a mess Overturned plastic cups lay scattered about next to plates containing stale, half-eaten cake the ship’s food synthesizers had barely gotten right. Kuttner fell heavily into a chair at the head of the long, transparent table and rubbed his temples, hoping to ease the invisible vice that was squeezing his skull. This party had been a bad idea. He hated parties. But how could he expect his new first officer, a snot-nosed desk-flier from Special Operations named Noah Hamilton, to know that? They barely knew each other.

So Kuttner had smiled and nodded politely, even though he’d have rather been doing an EVA on the outer hull of the ship during a gamma ray burst than be at a party held in his honor.

Hamilton. Why the brass had sent him a new first officer when they knew that in just a few months ship time they were going to scrap her? He was arrogant, brash, and had a head full of theory with no actual practice to back it up. There had also been some kind of trouble at his old post. In that, Hamilton typified the type of person who usually found their way into the Fighting 17th. Kuttner had spent most of his career whipping into shape officers and personnel with drinking and gambling problems, insubordination demerits, and all manner of personal failings into capable hands on the pride of the Fleet, the NS Onslaught, and it wasn’t easy. That didn’t stop the Admiralty from flinging every officer school reject they could find Kuttner’s way, however. It became so commonplace that there was even a saying: The Onslaught is the round hole square pegs go in.

But Hamilton wasn’t quite as bad as all that. He was smart, and a natural born leader. He would have a promising career ahead of him once his stint on the Onslaught was done, and that would be over with shortly. They were already on their way to the sunny world of Zephyr Covenant, where the Onslaught would be decommissioned and Kuttner handed his walking papers.

Retirement. Kuttner didn’t like to say it; didn’t even like to think it. The word had the ominous ring of finality about it. Life as he knew it would soon be over. That scared him, and he wasn’t a man who scared easily.

The smell of stale cake making him queasy, Kuttner heaved himself up out of the chair. It was time he got to work. This was still his ship, and he was still in command of it. There would be plenty of time for remembrance and regret later. He smoothed the front of his gray uniform and left the mess, just as two young stewards arrived to clean the place up. He nodded once to them as he sidled out.

The Onslaught had been a fine ship in her day, and still was as far as Kuttner was concerned. One of only a few heavy class battle cruisers, the Onslaught was nicknamed the Flying Gun, so named for its large central rail gun that ran the entire length of the ship, powered by two huge electromagnets. The Onslaught had been key in the League’s efforts to defeat the Draconi. Now that the war was over, and the old ship no longer needed, she was being scrapped. Kuttner felt as if he was being thrown on the scrap heap with her.

“It’s not fair, old girl,” he said in a whisper, patting a section of cool bulkhead with his left hand. “You should have died in battle.”

He chuckled at himself. “Listen to me,” he thought. “An old man talking to his ship. No wonder they want to put me out to pasture.”

Kuttner quickened his pace, striding confidently toward the command deck, the vestiges of his hangover leaving him like clearing smoke.

Commander Hamilton was sitting in the command chair watching a flurry of holographic screens flickering all over the command deck. He swiveled the chair around as the hatch slid open, and stood when he saw who it was.

Kuttner smiled, waving his hand dismissively. “As you were, Commander. I’m just taking one final lap around. What’s our ETA to Zephyr?”

“Four days and change at current speed,” said Hamilton. “If we double the thruster output we can make it in two.”

“No, no,” said Kuttner. “Make ‘em wait.” He looked around the command cluster for a long moment, taking in every sight, every sound, every smell. He looked over his officers, each one hard at work at their respective stations, from Lt. Brackett at Communications to Stetson Cade, his capable and sometimes trigger happy gunner. Everything was in order. It made him proud but also a little bit sad, and he felt as if he would never see any of them ever again.

“Sir?” said Hamilton, raising an eyebrow. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, Commander. Right as rain. Just…” his voice trailed off. Finally, he said, “Maintain course and heading. I’ll be in my quarters taking a nap.”

Hamilton smiled. “Yes, sir.”

Kuttner turned to leave the command deck when Lt. Brackett spoke.

“Commander,” she said. “I’m getting a distress beacon over tightbeam.”

Both Kuttner and Hamilton turned toward Brackett’s station. “Source?” said Hamilton.

“There’s a lot of tachyon echo, so it’s close,” she said, tapping buttons on her console. “Signal originated from the Danvers colony, planet Verdant.”

Hamilton looked at Kuttner. “That’s a pretty remove outpost, almost in Draconi space.”

Kuttner nodded. “ETA to Verdant?” he asked.

“Six hours at present speed,” said the navigator, Lt. Hudson.

Hamilton looked at Kuttner. “Your orders, sir?”

“Set course for Verdant,” commanded Kuttner.

“Aye, sir,” said Hudson.

“We’ll be late for the ceremony,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner waved this away. “This is still an active duty Solar Navy vessel, and if there is a human colony in trouble, we are going to come to the rescue.”

Hamilton nodded. The Onslaught would be reduced to a pile of scrap metal in a few weeks, but for now it was still the old man’s ship. It was his call.

Chapter Two

Arrival

Hamilton had never seen the old man this animated, this alive. He’d been moping around since they received the decommission order. He’d thought the party would have cheered him up, but even that had seemed to dull his spirits even further. Things had been rocky between the two men ever since Hamilton had arrived on board at Peralta Station, still angry about losing his last post and unsure about what to do in this new one. Captain Kuttner appeared amicable, if a bit senile, and Hamilton was happy to show both him and the Admiralty what he could do with his own command post, even if it was as the second in command aboard an aging battleship.

From the moment he stepped aboard, it was obvious to Hamilton that the vessel had seen better days. But he set up a regular repair and maintenance schedule and now things were looking better, which he felt only made Kuttner dislike him even more. “Great,” he’d said, when looking over the results. “She’ll be nice and shiny when they break her down.”

Hamilton couldn’t win with the old man, so he just did the best he could to do and stay out of Kuttner’s way. This smiling captain he saw before him now was a refreshing change of pace from the dour, cynical commanding officer that had coldly welcomed him aboard less than three standard months ago. Obviously the promise of a new, exciting mission had served to cheer the old man up a little. Hamilton thought he could get used to this.

“The deck is yours, Commander,” said Kuttner, and without another word the old man sidled through the door and disappeared down the corridor, no doubt to partake in his promised nap.

Hamilton didn’t mind. He had been nervous at first. After all, the lives of over eight hundred men and women were effectively in his hands. But now he found that he enjoyed the rush of command, even relished it. He returned to the command chair, squeezing the edges of the armrests, feeling the vibration of the ship’s engines throbbing up through his fingers. He listened to the sounds the ship made, the rush of air through the recyclers, the reedy thrash of the oxygen scrubbers, the hum of the four huge ion engines glowing with blue flame far to the rear of the powerful vessel. He felt a part of it. No wonder Kuttner had never retired. What a rush.

The hours went by, with little for Hamilton to do but sign off on duty rosters and order minor course adjustments. He thought idly about the colony. It was a relatively new one. Maybe the distress call was nothing. Perhaps some essential equipment malfunctioned, or they had a disease outbreak. Or… If his service in the Solar Navy had taught him anything, it was that nothing was ever that simple. He had heard things while he was in Special Operations. Things that chilled him to his core. If—

“Sir,” said Lt. Brackett, “Coming into communications range now.”

“Hail the colony,” said Hamilton.

“Nothing but static, sir,” she said.

Hamilton looked at her. “Is there some interference? Or are they just not answering?”

“They’re not answering,” said the communications officer. “It’s like their tightbeam transmitter just isn’t there anymore.”

“How is that possible?” he said. His heart rate increased. “Hudson, get us to Verdant as quickly as you can.”

“Aye, sir,” said the navigator.

Hamilton could feel the Onslaught accelerate. A holographic display flickered to life in the air directly in front of him, showing an image of their destination along with various data pertaining to the planet. He studied it for a moment, but didn’t see anything he thought would be helpful. The colony administrator’s name was Talbot, which might be important if he or any of his fellow colonists were still alive, but Hamilton had his doubts.

“Nearing the planet now,” said Hudson.

Hamilton nodded. “Begin braking procedures. Get us in geosynchronous orbit over the colony.”

“Aye,” Hudson said, grinning. He was young, but it was no secret he fancied himself the best pilot and navigator in the fleet, and Hamilton had come to believe he was right.

Hamilton gripped the armrests tightly once again as he felt the pressure of the Onslaught’s deceleration field pressing down on them to keep them from being flung about and turned to goo by the ship’s rapid slow-down before it entered Verdant’s gravity well.

“Brackett?” said Hamilton. “Any luck?”

“Still no answer, Commander,” said the lieutenant.

Hamilton nodded. “Keep trying. Tightbeam, radio, smoke signals, whatever you can think of.” He thumbed a switch on the command chair and spoke, “Captain Kuttner, we’ve arrived at Verdant. Your presence is requested on the command deck.”

A sleepy mumble, then, “I’ll be right up.”

Ten minutes later the command door slid open and Captain Kuttner stepped onto the deck, wearing a crisp, clean uniform. He stood beside Hamilton in the command chair, knuckling sleep from his eyes. “Any word?”

“None, sir. “We’ve been trying ever since we’ve been in range. But now we know why.”

Hamilton pointed at one of the readouts hovering in the air near the navigation console. It was a close-up of what had once been the colony. There was nothing left but a pitted scrap of earth, roughly in the shape the colony had been. Every building, every vehicle, every scrap was simply gone.

“What in God’s name happened down there?” said Kuttner. He stared aghast at the image for a long moment. “It’s like someone came along and just scooped up the entire colony and made off with it.”

Hamilton nodded. “It certainly wasn’t any weapon that we know of. No orbital bombardment. No chemical or biological agent. Spectrograph picks up no trace elements or anything not native to Verdant.”

Kuttner nodded. Clearly this was not the adventure he’d been looking forward to.

“Sir,” said Hudson. “We’ve got company.”

Kuttner and Hamilton turned their attention to the main display, which showed a very familiar ship coming around the curve of the planet. Its black jagged lines made it all but invisible against the blackness of space, but the blue-green surface of the planet brought it into stark relief. It was a Draconi battlecruiser.

Chapter Three

Engagement

“They’re hailing us,” said Brackett.

“Answer them,” said Kuttner.

The display flickered, replacing the image of the Draconi ship with that of their occupants. Kuttner felt his heart rate increase as he found himself face to snout with a reptilian visage he’d not seen since before the end of the war. The creature’s looming presence was so large it appeared taller than him even on screen. Black scales covered a sleek, sloping head that glinted wetly in the glare of an overhead light source. Long white needle teeth jutted out of its closed mouth, and Kuttner could tell that one of them was missing. The Dragon wore a blood red uniform emblazoned with the alien sigils of his race. The effect—of seeing a spacesuit on a lizard—should have been comical, but it was far from it. Kuttner tried to hide his unease, which was a common feeling mankind had toward the Dragons. He’d once heard a lecture from an Academy scientist theorizing that this feeling was caused by some fear-producing pheromones the Dragons secreted. But he wasn’t getting any pheromones now, across the vast distance of space that separated their two ships. Kuttner thought it was some old race memory stored in humankind, back when they were just proto-mammals running from dinosaurs. Many humans had a natural revulsion to reptiles, which was only magnified when those reptiles carried guns and wanted to kill you.

The commanding officer of the Draconian vessel blinked at him, her translucent nictitating membranes sliding sideways across her eyes. Tiny, vestigial wings bobbed up and down uselessly on her scaly back. Millions of years ago, it was believed, these appendages had been much larger, allowing the Draconi’s ancestors to ply the skies of their homeworld. Now they were little more than decoration, but strangely disconcerting nonetheless.

Kuttner adjusted his uniform shirt, mentally pulling himself together. The Solar Navy was no place for cowards, and he had been in conference with the League’s former enemies before.

“Commander of the Draconi vessel,” Kuttner said. “I am Captain Kuttner of the LS Onslaught. You are currently occupying League space in violation of Section Seven, Subparagraph Four of the Tycho Treaty. I demand that you state your business here.”

“I am Grand Leader Zola of the Claw,” said the Dragon. “And you are in no position to demand anything, human.” A slender, forked tongue flicking from her mouth. “We were tracking an enemy vessel into what you think of as your space. I am not surprised to find it was you.”

“What are you talking about?” said Kuttner. “We haven’t been anywhere near your territory for months. Now state your business here.”

Zola nodded her scaly head once. “Very well. If you insist on playing dumb. Several of our colonies have been destroyed, their presence wiped clean. We were dispatched to investigate, and traced the perpetrator back here.” She pointed a taloned finger toward one of their displays, which showed the planet Verdant.

“Our colony down there was also destroyed,” said Kuttner. “It looks like we have a common enemy.”

“Not likely,” said Zola. “The Egg Mother would not allow two inferior species to best us. I believe it was you who assaulted our colonies, and then destroyed your own so you would not be suspect.”

“Preposterous,” said Hamilton.

Zola glanced at the Onslaught’s first officer before continuing. “It is you, Captain Kuttner, who are in violation of the treaty.” The screen went dark. A chill flew up Kuttner’s spine. He knew what that meant.

“Get them back!”

“I can’t, sir,” said Brackett, her hands moving frantically over the communications controls. “They’re not responding.”

“Captain,” said gunner Stetson Cade. “They’re powering up their weapons.”

“Damn it!” said Kuttner, thinking frantically. The treaty, already contentious and fragile, was at stake here. But he wasn’t about to show up for his retirement party dead.

“Do the same, Gunner Cade,” he commanded. “Fire up the guns.”

“If only the central gun were online,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner nodded. The ship’s central rail gun was one of the most devastating weapons ever designed. It used two giant electromagnets to propel depleted uranium shells at incredible velocity. But it had been shut down to begin getting it ready to be scrapped along with the rest of the vessel. They wouldn’t have time to get it going again. Not now.

Gunner Cade was in his element. He fitted a dark visor over his face, and holographic readouts flickered into being around him. With his black manipulator gauntlets he worked with them, moving virtual instrument sliders into position. “Guns online and charged,” he said.

“Raise defense fields,” said Kuttner, and a readout floating nearby showed the capacitors along the Onslaught’s outer hull charging, covering the skin of the vessel with blue electric fire. If a projectile hit them it would be incinerated instantly. Kuttner wasn’t so sure about the Dragon’s energy weapons, which were like nothing mankind had seen. “All hands, battle stations.”

The Claw fired first, sending a blue stream of charged particles in their direction.

“Attempting evasive maneuvers,” said Hudson, the view of the Draconi ship skewing sideways wildly as the Onslaught’s attitude thrusters engaged to push them out of harm’s way.

The beam missed them, but just barely, tickling the vessel’s defense field as it headed into empty space.

“Keep us moving,” said Kuttner. “If they want to hit us they’re going to have to work for it.”

Kuttner’s eyes flickered from one readout to another as he braced himself for an impact. The Onslaught had been through many battles with the Draconi, and had the scars to prove it, but it was never easy, and he was well aware with each of them that the next one could be their last.

The Draconi vessel moved in pursuit of the fleeing League vessel as it sped away from the planet.

“Keep as much distance between us as you can,” said Kuttner. “And lay in a course for this star’s L1 Lagrange point.”

“You’re making for the Q-gate,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner nodded, his eyes never leaving the view screen. “If we can get to it before they do, we can come out anywhere. They won’t be able to follow. They wouldn’t dare follow us into League space.”

“They’re out for revenge,” said Hamilton. “They might.”

Kuttner ignored him as he stared at the view screen. Behind them the black ship was fast approaching, another searing blue beam of energy lancing through space toward them.

The ship shuddered, and warning sigils flew into the air all around them.

“We’ve been hit, sir,” said Hudson.

“Where?”

Hudson checked his monitors. “A glancing blow. It hit one of our capacitors. Defense field at forty percent.”

“Damn,” said Kuttner. That was it. Enough running. “Gunner Cade, you may fire at your discretion.”

“Yes, sir,” said Cade with a little too much pleasure in his voice. He touched a control stud, and a holographic cage of light formed around him in the shape of a gun turret. He clasped the virtual controls and began twisting in his seat to get a bead on the Draconi vessel. He squeezed off a few shots, and Hamilton felt the muffled thump of the Onslaught’s twin-mounted turret guns going to work.

“Confirmed hit,” said Cade proudly.

“They’re still coming,” said Hudson as he angled the ship toward the system’s small G-type star and salvation.

“They know what we’re doing,” said Hamilton. “They’re never going to let us reach the Q-gate.”

“That’s just what I’m counting on,” said Kuttner.

The deflector field—what was left of it—sizzled as it was struck by another stream of charged particles from the Draconi warship.

“Lt. Hudson,” said Kuttner. “Make for the Q-gate like our ass is on fire, but at the last possible moment, I want us to skirt around it. Think you can do that?”

“Sure, sir,” said the navigator. “But you’d best hold onto something.”

The Onslaught headed for the Q-gate at the best possible speed, the Claw dogging them the whole way. Cade fired back, the twin ion turret guns doing some damage, but not enough to make the Draconi change their minds. If anything, it only made them press the attack further.

“They’re hailing us,” said Brackett.

“On speakers,” said Kuttner.

“I see you would rather run like cowards than face your accusers. Very well. We will hound you to the edge of the galaxy.”

“And I see you’d rather mindlessly attack without provocation than listen to reason,” said Kuttner. “We’ll see what your high command thinks of your tactics. If you’d like to accompany us to the nearest Admiralty court, you may do so.”

“Why, you—”

Kuttner made a slashing motion across his neck with his finger, and Brackett cut the feed. “Don’t answer their hails anymore. Let her stew a little.”

“We’re nearing the Q-gate,” said Hudson.

“On screen.”

The viewer flickered. A tiny speck orbiting the star up ahead grew larger as they neared it. It was a large oval ring made of some dull gray metal.

“They wouldn’t dare destroy a Q-gate,” said Kuttner.

“What are you planning, sir?” asked Kuttner.

“Special tactics, my boy. Watch and learn.”

Hamilton watched the old man from his own command chair, his heart racing. Say what you want about Captain Henry Kuttner, what he didn’t know about battle tactics and strategy would barely fill a shot glass in the officer’s lounge. He would do well to sit back and let the man work.

The Q-gate loomed large in the viewer. “Everyone grab onto something,” said Hudson.

Hamilton gripped the arms of his chair as the Onslaught slewed around the giant alien artifact to the right, faster than the ship’s artificial gravity could compensate. Hamilton felt a lump of something hot rise in his throat and stay there.

“We’re coming around the other side,” said Hudson.

“Gunner Cade, aim through the Q-gate at the Dragon vessel and give them everything we’ve got.”

“Aye, sir.”

“You’re using the Q-gate as a shield,” Hamilton said.

Kuttner nodded without looking at him. “It’s dirty pool but hopefully it’ll get the job done. The Draconi won’t strand themselves in this quadrant by risking hitting the gate.”

“They’re slowing down, sir,” said Hudson. “And they’ve stopped firing.”

When the empty space in the center of the gate loomed large, Cade fired the ship’s ion guns through the opening. The Draconi vessel looked to be in the middle of a braking maneuver, thrown off by the Onslaught’s sudden course change. The twin streams of charged particles scored a direct hit, and the alien vessel exploded in a blossom of white-hot flame that dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

“There’s going to be a lot of explaining to do,” said Kuttner after a long moment. In the meantime, let’s return to Verdant and see if we can figure out what the hell happened down there.”

Chapter Four

Among the Ruins

“We’ve got to send someone down there,” said Kuttner as they fell into orbit above the planet. “Hamilton, I want you to take some marines down there. Find out who or what did this.”

“Me, sir?” said Hamilton, clearing his throat. “I’ve never led an away mission.”

“First time for everything. We don’t know what we’re up against. This could be some new Dragon weapon those sneaky lizards are testing on our people. I want someone down there I can trust.”

Hamilton nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, and turned to leave the command deck.

“Take a weapon with you,” said Kuttner over his shoulder. “And be ready for anything.”

Hamilton nodded once more as he left the room.

***

Sergeant Dutton made sure his men were strapped in securely before wedging himself in behind the shuttle’s pilot seat and pulling down the large shoulder restraint and locking it into place. A moment later Commander Hamilton climbed aboard the small craft and went to sit in the co-pilot’s seat. Lt. Ellison was already closing the hatch and initiating the shuttle’s launch sequence.

The trip down a planet’s gravity well toward its surface always felt like falling, but Dutton was used to it. He squeezed his eyes shut only momentarily. He wasn’t about to show the marines under his command any sign of weakness. The same held true for the Onslaught’s upstart new commander. Dutton would follow his orders to the letter, but he didn’t know Hamilton. The man wasn’t battle-tested. He had always believed that the true measurement of a man was how he behaved in a fight. He didn’t trust the man, much less like him, and he didn’t like going into an unknown situation with someone he didn’t trust.

Ellison eased the shuttle into Verdant’s blue-green atmosphere almost effortlessly and guided it toward the colony’s coordinates. The devastation was even more obvious up close. Just a huge crater where there had once been the homes of over three hundred men, women and children.

“Find us a suitable landing spot, Lieutenant,” said Hamilton. Dutton smarted at this man’s usurpation of his authority. These were his marines. He was in charge.

Ellison found a large flat hill just above the remains of the colony and set the shuttle down. Everyone disembarked quickly, and Dutton walked immediately up to Hamilton, who was using a slate to get pictures and readings of what little was left of the colony below them.

“Commander,” said Dutton gruffly. “If I might have a word?”

Hamilton paused what he was doing and looked at the marine. “Sure, Sergeant.”

“These are my men,” he said. “And I’m guessing you haven’t been on too many missions of this type.”

Hamilton nodded. “You guess correctly.”

“Well then, just so we’re clear. These are my men, and I give the orders.”

To his surprise, Hamilton grinned. “Of course, Sergeant. I won’t tell you how to do your job. I’m here just to oversee and make a report.”

Dutton nodded. That was a relief. He had expected to have to fight the man on this point, and he’d seen too many self-assured officers get their heads blown off because they thought they were kings of the universe and could go in somewhere unprepared. He moved off to prepare his men.

“All right, apes,” he said. “Eyes and ears open. I want a perimeter set up around what’s left of this place. Keep a look out for any survivors. Ellison and Bannon, you stay up here with the shuttle. The rest, you’re with me and Commander Hamilton. Let’s go.”

Hamilton still had no idea what they were expected to find, or how they could use it to figure out what happened. But he was determined to do his best. He looked at his slate, which was locked onto the automated distress beacon. As he walked down the hill he found it, buried under a few inches of topsoil. It was a large spherical object equipped with a tightbeam transmitter. He shut off the device. It looked as if it had been flung from its original location, perhaps by a fleeing colonist. Maybe they would find survivors after all and get an eyewitness account of what went down here.

Hamilton dropped the beacon to the ground and kept walking, his right hand resting on his sidearm. The marines were better prepared, hefting large T-190 rail guns. Though Hamilton didn’t think any of them would need to use their weapons.

He was wrong.

Verdant was a world of dense jungle, which had already reached out to reclaim the area once occupied by the colony. Hamilton wished for a machete as they found their way increasingly blocked by tangles of thick, blue-green vegetation. They were starting to move through the thickest growth when there was a bark of weapons fire and Corporal Hastert fell backward, his face a blossom of red mist.

“Get down!” Dutton commanded, and everyone, Hamilton included, dropped to the dense jungle floor.

Hamilton heard a weapon stutter from the thick foliage in front of them, and a tree beside him was instantly shredded. He pulled his needle gun, not sure how much help it would be. He was no marksman, and the tiny flechettes packed the most punch at close range. He’d never get a clear shot, not in this brush. He scanned the tree line, and saw a thick shadow detach itself and move sideways through the jungle with incredible speed.

“Kill anything that moves,” Dutton ordered. He glanced once at Hamilton, who returned his gaze. “Are you hurt, sir?”

“No,” said Hamilton, sitting up in a crouch.

“It’s the damned lizards,” said Dutton. “I can smell ‘em.” He fired at something before moving ahead, he, Sanchez, and Phillips forming a slow moving line as they advanced carefully, weapons raised to their shoulders. He glanced back once toward Hamilton. “Stay where you are,” he said before he and his fellow marines disappeared into the dense foliage.

Hamilton stayed where he was, panting in the jungle heat. Whoever had attacked them had lost the element of surprise, and were probably moving farther back into the jungle to maintain cover. Hamilton stood slowly and cautiously, well aware that with his officer’s uniform he might as well be wearing a giant target on his chest.

Ahead and to the right, he heard another blast of weapons fire. It sounded like one of theirs. Then nothing. He touched the comm stud on his lapel and listened, his cochlear implant tuned to the frequency the marines were using. He heard heavy breathing and boots crunching leaves.

“Sit rep,” Hamilton said.

“I got one,” said Dutton in reply. It’s a lizard all right. Jungle’s probably teeming with them.”

Hamilton highly doubted it, but said nothing. He was going to need Dutton to remain on his side if he was going to get out of here alive. There was another blast of artillery, and Phillips screamed in his ear.

“My leg!” he said.

The marines opened up with everything they had then. Hamilton saw trees and bushes far ahead in the thick jungle shred and fall. There was more movement.

“Dammit!” Hamilton shouted. “Dutton, get your men out of there.”

“Brannon, get your ass down here,” said Dutton over his comm. “Ellison, prepare the shuttle for immediate evac.”

“Get out of there, Sergeant,” said Hamilton again, more forcefully this time. He was about to head in their direction when something crashed out of the jungle and struck him sidewise, knocking him down. He jumped up, holstered his weapon, and moved after it.

Chapter Five

The Admiral

Captain Kuttner had never been comfortable making direct calls to the Admiralty, but the protocol in cases like this demanded it. He sat nervously in the ship’s ready room while the tightbeam transmitter bounced his communication request off the various Q-gate relays, drumming his fingers on the translucent tabletop.

After almost ten minutes the tightbeam receiver chimed, and Kuttner touched the com stud. Holo emitters in the center of the table flickered to life, and an image coalesced in the air in front of him, alive with decaying tachyons. In a matter of seconds, the image of Kuttner’s old friend and commanding officer appeared.

“Hello, Hank,” she said, smiling.

“Hello, Alice,” said Kuttner.

Admiral Alice Sheldon was seventy-five—Kuttner remembered because he had attended her last birthday party—but she no longer looked it. He had heard rumors that she was undergoing de Gray treatments to extend her longevity, now here was proof. Her once wrinkled skin was now taut and pink as a newborn’s, and her short curly hair, once a fine slate gray, was now shot through with patches of light brown. It was like she was aging in reverse, which Kuttner supposed she was. But the overall effect was rather disconcerting.

“You’re looking well,” said Kuttner.

“Thanks, Hank,” she said, smiling. “You too. It’s been too long.”

“Yes it has,” said Kuttner. “But I’m afraid this isn’t a social call. There’s been an…incident in the Verdant system.”

Admiral Sheldon arched an eyebrow. “What in the worlds are you doing there? You’re supposed to be halfway to Zephyr by now.”

“Yes, well, we were investigating why the colony there had stopped transmitting.”

“We’re well aware of that, Hank. Another one’s gone missing, hasn’t it?”

Kuttner stared at her image. “What do you mean, another one?”

Sheldon sighed, adjusted her crisp white and gold uniform front. “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t live your ready room.”

Kuttner nodded. “All right.”

“There have been several colonies along the fringe that have just up and vanished. Orbital stations too, mostly corporate mining concerns.”

“Why doesn’t anyone else know about this?” asked Kuttner.

“The Fleet doesn’t want to start a panic,” she said. “Special Operations is aware of the situation and has launched a full investigation. As for you and your ship, you have an appointment you’re late for.”

“I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that,” said Kuttner.

“Why not?”

“There’s been an altercation with the Draconi,” he said. “When we arrived at Verdant, one of their ships was also parked in orbit around the other side of the planet relative to our position. They accused us of not only destroying the Verdant colony, but several of their colonies as well. They opened fire. We had to defend ourselves.”

Admiral Sheldon slumped in her seat, crestfallen. “Casualties?”

“A few minor injuries on our side, some damage to the ship. But the Draconi vessel was completely destroyed.”

Admiral Sheldon cupped her face in her hands for a moment before looking at Kuttner. “All right,” she said. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to proceed to Zephyr as originally ordered. You’re going to retire. You’re going to go somewhere sunny and get tan, and you’re going to forget all about this.”

“That’s it?” said Kuttner.

“You want to be court martialed?” Admiral Sheldon asked, her dark eyes wide. “Let Fleet handle it. We believe the Draconi are behind this. And their presence at the Verdant disappearance confirms it.”

“I want to help,” said Kuttner.

Admiral Sheldon smiled then, but it was a placating smile. “Come on, Hank. You’ve done your duty for king and country. Let us get those cold-blooded bastards for you.”

“I just think—” Kuttner began, but the Admiral cut him off.

“I don’t need you to think, soldier,” she said, forcefully. “I need you to do. Now get your ass to Zephyr before you get in any more trouble.”

Before Kuttner could offer further protest, Admiral Sheldon cut the connection. He was left alone in his ready room.

Chapter Six

Hostiles

Bushes thrashed at his face, roots snagged his boots, but still Commander Hamilton ran. He saw the flick of a green-black tail as the Draconi moved deeper into the jungle. Hamilton ran after it, hands held in front of his face to keep jungle branches from slapping into him, until he emerged in a small clearing. He looked around, panting. The jungle was eerily quiet.

A heavy form exploded from the trees that ringed the clearing, landing atop Hamilton. He tried to reach for his gun, but a taloned foot had his hand pinned to the wet earth. His eyes took in his attacker. A Draconi, female was straddling him, holding a short, curved blade at his throat. He took in her uniform, noting that it was not the garb of a solider.

“I don’t like having pointy things shoved in my face,” he said.

The Draconi gave him a predatory sneer, licking her sharp teeth with her thin tongue. Hamilton noticed an area on the left side of her head that looked as if it had been scoured by something abrasive.

“You speak Standard?” said Hamilton.

The Draconi cocked her head to one side, as if she were either considering his question or wondering which part of him was the most delicious.

Hamilton heard the heavy thrash of the marines as they ran toward his location.

“They’ll be here soon,” said Hamilton. “And they’ll shoot first, then ask questions. I’d like to do things the other way around.”

The Draconi’s head shot up and forward, nose sniffing the jungle. It looked back down at him a final time before easing off of him.

Hamilton climbed to his feet. “Thank you,” he said, coughing.

Dutton and his marines erupted from the jungle just a few feet away, weapons raised. “Move out of the way, Commander,” said Dutton. “And we’ll light this bastard up.”

“Not gonna happen, Sergeant,” said Hamilton, raising his arms as if in surrender, his eyes still on the Draconi. “We need answers.”

“But sir—”

“Stand down, Sergeant,” Hamilton said evenly. “That’s an order.”

“Sir, I really—”

“Do it!” Hamilton commanded, and the big marine finally acquiesced, him and his men lowering their weapons.

“That’s right,” said Hamilton to the Draconi. “You’re among friends here. The war’s over. We just want some answers. Do you speak standard?”

The Draconi stared at him for several tense minutes before replying. “Yes, human” she said.

Hamilton smiled. That was something at least. “Good. Listen. We just want to find out what happened to our colony.” He took a step back, careful to keep his body in between the Dragon and the marines’ line of fire.

“I’m Lieutenant Noah Hamilton of the LS Onslaught. “What’s your name?”

“I am Drizda,” she said.

Hamilton gave her a wan smile. “Nice to meet you. You’re not infantry, are you?”

“No. I am scientist caste.”

Hamilton nodded. He assumed as much from the markings on her uniform. During the war, much of his time with Special Operations had been studying Draconi culture, as much of it as they could glean from their hostile encounters with the species.

“I wish to communicate with my vessel,” Drizda said.

Hamilton frowned. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Your ship engaged us in battle, and we had no choice but to destroy it.”

Her reptilian eyes widened. “Lies!”

“I’m afraid not,” said Hamilton. “Try to communicate with them. You’ll see.”

Drizda touched the cuff of her uniform and spoke something guttural, unintelligible. It was more like an animal growl than speech.

“Nothing,” she said, hanging her head. “I am the last.”

“Your face,” said Hamilton, pointing toward the area on the left side of her head. “What happened?”

She touched it, then pulled her four-fingered hand away quickly, as if it burned. “I am clanless,” she said. “Cast out.”

Hamilton said nothing, hoping she would elaborate, but she didn’t.

“Why are you here?” he said.

“Some of our colonies have been attacked, like this one.” She extended a hand in the direction of the crater. “We tracked a strange energy signature to this system and found the devastation here. I was sent down to investigate, along with those soldiers.” She pointed to her left, toward the dense jungle where the bodies of her compatriots lay.

Drizda sniffed quickly, then clicked her teeth together. “They cast me out, and now I am the only one left.” Her teeth clacked together a few more times. Hamilton recognized this as the Draconi version of laughter. Apparently Drizda had a profound sense of irony.

“We came to investigate because this colony stopped transmitting. Your friends aboard the Claw didn’t believe us.”

Drizda nodded. “You would not have attacked your own colony,” she said.

“No. Of course not. But we didn’t attack your colonies either. You have to believe me.”

“I believe you, human. This technology goes far beyond what either of our races possess.”

Hamilton nodded. That knowledge was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it let both of their races off the hook. On the other, it implicated a far more powerful enemy.

“You’re welcome to return to our ship with us,” said Hamilton. “Perhaps you can help us figure out who or what did this.”

“As your prisoner?” she asked cautiously.

“No, no,” said Hamilton, waving his hands. “As our, um, guest. A scientific adviser, if you will. When this is over, I’ll make sure you are delivered safely back to your people.”

“I have no people,” said Drizda sadly. “I am clanless, remember?”

“You know what I mean,” said Hamilton.

Her tongue flicked twice from her mouth, almost too fast to be noticed. “What choice do I have, mammal? I will go with you and help you.”

“Help us,” Hamilton corrected.

“Help us,” she repeated.

“Sir,” said Dutton. “I must advise against this.”

“I appreciate your input, Sergeant,” said Hamilton. “Please see our guest to the shuttle.”

“First I demand she be disarmed,” said Dutton.

Hamilton nodded at the big marine. To Drizda he said, “Please turn over any weapons.”

Drizda nodded, handed Brannon her knife. She carried no sidearm, as was fitting for her role as a Draconi scientist.

“All right,” said Hamilton. “Let’s shove off.”

Chapter Seven

Unexpected Guest

“I hope you’ve got a good explanation for this, Commander,” said Captain Kuttner as he watched his first officer enter the Onslaught’s ready room with a female dragon in tow, flanked by marines Dutton and Ellison.

“I do, sir,” said Hamilton. His uniform was sweat-stained and covered in minute green splotches. The marines too looked ever the worse for wear.

“You guys look like hell,” said Kuttner. “All right. Give it to me.”

Hamilton gave a full sit rep, including everything they had learned from their brief survey of what little was left of the colony. Drizda sat quietly at the other end of the meeting table, her taloned hands folded in front of her, while Dutton and Ellison hovered at either side of her like heavily armed bookends.

“You think she’s telling the truth?” Kuttner whispered.

“I do, Captain.”

“What’s wrong with her face?”

Hamilton glanced at her self-consciously before answering. “Her clan sigil has been removed. She is for all intents and purposes without family.”

“Think she could be loyal to us?”

“I am a scientist,” said Drizda across the table. “I am loyal to the truth.”

Hamilton nodded to her, hoping she would take that as an apology. “She does not believe we destroyed their colonies, sir. I don’t know if that’s choosing a side, but I’ll take it.”

“Who do you think did this?” Hamilton asked Drizda.

Drizda shook her head slowly. “I do not have enough data to say,” she said. “It would help if I could study the damage to one of your colonies more closely. Perhaps I could at least work out their methods. Maybe even determine where they would strike next.”

Captain Kuttner frowned. “All right. Because right now, our two peoples are pointing the finger at each other.”

“I know,” said Drizda.

“What do you need from me?”

“A computer terminal,” she said. “Access to any and all investigative research your people have acquired.”

Kuttner nodded. “You’ll have it. This is a warship, so our scientific capabilities aren’t much, but you’re welcome to them.”

“Sir,” said Dutton, gritting his teeth. “I must respectfully disagree. This is an enemy combatant. Her colleagues tried to kill us.”

“Your objection is duly noted, Sergeant,” said Kuttner. “But this is no enemy combatant. Our races are at peace. And I aim to make sure they stay that way.”

“But, sir!”

“That’s enough, Dutton,” Kuttner commanded. “Now put those slug-throwers away and stand down until you’re needed.”

Dutton slowly lowered his weapon, which had been subtly trained on Drizda’s head since she sat down, then glanced at Ellison, who did the same. They left the ready room without another word.

“That could have been awkward,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner turned in his chair toward him. “Dutton isn’t wrong to be concerned. I’m putting this one all on you, Hamilton. From now until Drizda leaves this ship, she’s your responsibility.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hamilton. “But there is also the slight matter of our orders. We’re to proceed to Zephyr.”

“I know damn well what our orders are, Commander. I’m ignoring them. At least for now. This old war dog isn’t ready to be put out to pasture just yet. Besides, I think the fact that you’ve brought a member of the Draconi onto our ship changes things a bit.”

“What are we going to do?” Hamilton asked.

“Give her whatever she needs. I want to know what the hell is going on out there, and why the Navy would rather mothball us than let us help stave off another war.”

“Sir?”

Kuttner told Hamilton the details of his conference with Admiral Sheldon, and about the other colonies that had been attacked. Then he stood with a groan. “We need to know where they’ll strike next.”

“I may have a way,” said Hamilton. “Well, it won’t tell us who will be hit before it happens, but we can know immediately after.”

“How so?”

Hamilton gave a sly grin. “After we returned to the ship, I took the liberty of asking Lt. Brackett to monitor the black channels.”

“You what?”

“I used to be Special Operations, remember? I know the codes they use to encrypt messages. As soon as Fleet knows another colony has been attacked, so will we.”

Kuttner smiled and clapped his first officer on the shoulder. “That’s my boy. But if anyone finds out, I didn’t know about it.” He gave a sly wink.

“Mum’s the word, Captain.”

Kuttner exited the room. Hamilton rose from his seat and looked at Drizda. “Let’s go get you set up.”

The Dragon nodded once, and the two of them left the ready room together. As they started up the passageway, Hamilton’s cochlear implant chimed. “Yes?” he said.

“It’s Lt. Brackett,” said a familiar female voice. “You wanted to know when I heard something on the black channels.”

“Yes,” said Hamilton. “What is it?”

“A remote space relay lost contact with the Severus colony nineteen hours and forty-seven standard minutes ago,” she said.

“Tell the Captain,” Hamilton commanded. “I’ll be up there as soon as I can.”

“He’s already been informed,” said the communications officer. “Course laid in for the nearest Q-gate.”

“Good. Hamilton out.”

To Drizda he said, “Next stop, the Severus system.”

Chapter 8

The Swarm

“We’re approaching the Q-gate.”

Hamilton sat in the command chair, his eyes studying the main viewer intently. He always ordered a visual whenever they were entering a Q-gate on his watch. He never got tired of looking at them.

The Q-gates had been left behind by a highly advanced, yet long-dead race known only as the Progenitors. Impossibly large, and always located in the L1 Lagrange point of a main sequence star, the Q-gates had allowed mankind to see and explore much more of the galaxy than they would have otherwise. By passing through one of the giant diamond-shaped structures, they could move instantaneously from one remote region of space to another, crossing thousands of light years in an eye blink.

Appearing as little more than a vague spec against the brightness of the star they were nearing, the Q-gate grew steadily larger. It was composed of some dull gray metal. Early metallurgical analysis had determined it was some type of fullerene alloy, but their best scientists were no closer to figuring out how to make it themselves than they were when the gates were first discovered more than one hundred standard years ago. They floated silent, implacable. A monument to the mysterious race that had created them.

The gate loomed large in the viewer now, and Hamilton studied it as he had dozens of times before. It was free of any external lighting or ornamentation. It was only by accident that a science vessel attempted to communicate with it and figured out how to activate it.

“We’re in communications range,” said Brackett. “I’m sending the tones now.”

Hamilton knew the five musical notes that would wake up the gate by heart, and he silently hummed them as they grew close enough that they could no longer see the giant diamond of the gate, only the empty space in between, which shimmered and distorted like ripples in a pond as the gate received the tones.

“Sending out-gate tones,” said Brackett as she transmitted the tones for the gate the wanted to come out of, in the Severus system.

The space before them shimmered even more, until it was replaced by a different arrangement of stars and planets. They were in one solar system and staring into another separated from them by more than fifty-seven light years.

“Connection established,” said Hudson.

“Enter the gate,” commanded Hamilton. “Notify the Captain that we’re entering the Severus system.”

The transit was over in less than two minutes. When they were done they had passed through a second gate connected to the first via some form of quantum entanglement.

“Pulsar navigation confirmed,” said Hudson. “We’re in the Severus system.”

“Picking up a lot of tightbeam chatter,” said Brackett, her slender fingers flying over her communications console.

“Source?” asked Hamilton.

“In orbit around Severus,” she said.

“There must be a ship here investigating what happened. They sure got here fast.”

“Maybe too fast,” said Gunner Cade. “They’re under attack.”

“What?” said Hamilton. “On screen.”

“We’re still too far away for a good visual,” said Hudson.

“Get us down there then, full speed. Get me visual as soon as we’re within range. Brackett, what ship is that?”

“The Odysseus.”

Hamilton nodded. “Hail them.”

“Channel open.”

Hamilton stood up. “Odysseus, this is the Onslaught. We’re headed your way. Hang tight.”

“Fall back, Onslaught,” said a harried male voice on the other end. “Or they’ll get you too.”

“What is the nature of the attackers?”

Nothing greeted his ears but tachyon static.

The hatch to the command deck slid open and Captain Kuttner stepped into the room. “What the hell’s going on here, Commander?”

“Don’t know yet, sir.”

“We’re now in visual range,” said Hudson.

“On screen,” both commanding officers said, almost in unison. The viewer flickered to life. Severus Prime, where the colony had been until about twenty standard hours ago, was an orb of swirling green and white. A dull gray ship hung above it, and all around it swarmed hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of tiny metallic objects.

“What are those?” said the Captain, pointing.

“Don’t know,” said Hamilton. “Never seen anything like it. Attack fighters, maybe? But launched from where?”

“Any other ships in the vicinity?” asked Kuttner.

“Negative,” said Cade.

“Activate defense fields,” said Kuttner. “Warm up the guns.”

“Brackett,” Hamilton said, turning his head toward the communications officer. “Feed visual to our visitor’s workstation, then patch me through. I want her take on what we’re seeing.”

“Aye, Commander,” she said.

“Drizda,” he said. “Are you seeing this?”

“I am. Though I don’t yet know what I’m seeing.”

“A few of the hostiles have broken off from the main group,” said Hudson. “They’re headed this way.”

“Battle stations,” said Kuttner. “Gunner Cade, you may fire at will.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

Cade aimed and fired the forward twin-mounted ion guns into the mass of approaching craft. “Direct hit,” he said, peering at a virtual readout. “Some of them were destroyed, but it mostly just scattered them.”

“Lock on and destroy as many as you can,” said Kuttner. “And get me the captain of the Odysseus.”

“Tightbeam’s down,” said Brackett.

“Tightbeam’s gone,” Cade corrected. “Along with most of the Odysseus.”

“What?” said Hamilton.

“He’s right,” said Hudson. “More than sixty percent of the ship’s mass is gone.”

“The vehicles are converging on us,” said Cade. “They’re fast! I can’t hit them.

“Tactical view,” said Hamilton.

Hudson touched a control stud and the view shifted from the doomed Odysseus to a wireframe of their own vessel. Small 3D shapes representing their tiny attackers hovered all around them.

“Defense field to full,” said Kuttner.

Indicators flickered as the enemy craft struck the powerful electric field surrounding the Onslaught.

“Sir,” said Cade. “We’ve got a power drain. It’s affecting the defense field and weapons systems.”

“Where is it coming from?” said Kuttner.

Hamilton checked a readout. “I think it’s coming from whatever those things are. They’re siphoning off our power.”

“Sir,” said Hudson, pointing to a shimmering red screen. “The Odysseus. She’s gone.”

“On screen,” Kuttner commanded.

The tactical wireframe disappeared, replaced by now empty space. A much larger swarm of the tiny craft surged where the other ship had once been.

“Did those things just multiply?” asked Hamilton.

“Yes, sir,” said Cade. “I’m afraid so.”

The two senior officers exchanged wary glances. Something thudded against the ship.

“Defense field won’t hold for long,” said Cade, glancing at a readout. “We’re still down one capacitor.”

“Keep firing on them, whatever they are,” said Kuttner.

Hamilton turned to Lt. Brackett. “Can we communicate with those things?”

Brackett shook her head. “Negative. I’ve been trying, but either they don’t understand us or they’re incapable of hearing.”

“Defense field power levels at thirty percent and dropping,” said Cade. He fired off another shot from the ion guns. “Got one!”

Kuttner looked around the room. “I’m open to suggestions,” he said flatly.

“There are thousands of those things out there,” said Hamilton. “More even than when we arrived. They’ll overwhelm us by sheer numbers.”

Kuttner nodded. “Fall back toward the gate. Full power to defense field and engines. Divert it from elsewhere if you have to. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Aye, sir,” said Hudson as his hands began flying over the controls. Hamilton felt his stomach lurch as the large ship altered its course faster than the artificial gravity could keep up. He felt the familiar thrum of the engines humming up through his boots, and knew that they were under way.

“The rest of the swarm is headed this way,” said Hudson. “Reading tens of thousands of individual units. I’ve never seen anything like it. Their movements are so coordinated. Like a school of fish.”

“Or a swarm of bees,” Kuttner offered. “Let’s admire them later, when they’re not trying to eat us.”

Hudson and Cade worked together to put as much distance between the Onslaught and the swarm while picking off any individual units that got too close. Soon the Q-gate loomed ahead.

“Destination, sir?” asked Brackett, ready to send the musical tones that would get them out of this region of space.

“Anywhere but here,” Kuttner murmured, his eyes never leaving the view screen.

Chapter Nine

Questions

“What the hell were those things?” Kuttner asked.

He was sitting at the head of the table in the ship’s ready room, Hamilton sitting directly across from him. Drizda sat to Hamilton’s right, her taloned hands clasped atop the table, a data slate lying in front of her.

“Judging by their performance and behavior,” said Drizda. “I am convinced they are what have been destroying our colonies.”

“I figured as much,” said Kuttner. “But what are they? Who are they?”

“They appear to be some type of mechanical probe,” answered Drizda. “But I have never seen anything like them before.”

“Probes?” said Hamilton. “Is someone piloting them?”

“Doubtful,” said the Draconi, swiveling slightly in her chair to face him. “But they are nonetheless intelligent, and dangerous.”

“This is all we need,” said Kuttner, rubbing his eyes. He looked as haggard as Hamilton had ever seen him.

“Perhaps we really should just obey our original orders,” Hamilton offered cautiously.

Kuttner glared at him, his jaw clenching. “You mean turn tail and run? Noah, my boy, there is a new threat out there. One that is taking out both us and the Dragons one by one. And you want to go home? Once this madness is over, yes. But not yet.”

Hamilton nodded once. He respected the old man for wanting to stick things out and see it through, and admired him for violating orders in order to do so.

“It would help if we knew more about what we are facing,” said Drizda, tapping at her slate with a sharp talon. “I believe there is a snippet of the Progenitor epics that might have some bearing on what we’re up against.”

“You mean the same epics that still haven’t been fully translated?” said Hamilton. The long-dead race had been common knowledge for over 400 years, but their best scientists had yet to scratch the surface of their technology and culture.

“I’m talking about a segment that has been translated,” said Drizda. “I studied it while still barely a hatchling at our science academy. But the specific details are fuzzy. I can’t find any reference to it aboard your ship’s paltry library. No offense, but it is no science vessel.”

“Do you think these things are some kind of Progenitor artifact?” asked Hamilton.

Drizda shook her head. “Unclear. But the Progenitors might have known of them, and may have even developed a way to stop them.”

“Or,” said Hamilton with a heavy sigh. “These things are what killed off the Progenitors.”

Kuttner sat there nodding slowly for a long moment. Finally, he said, “You want to visit one of the Archives.”

“Yes,” said Drizda.

Hamilton leaned back in his chair. The Progenitor Archives were the only free standing remnants of Progenitor culture in existence. They were like giant floating monuments to that long-dead race, always parked in a planet’s Lagrange point in a star system that contained a Q gate. They had served as almost neutral territory during the war, with neither man nor Draconi wanting to so much as put a dent in one of them, though they couldn’t if they tried. The Archives were as tough as they looked.

“Where’s the nearest Archive?” he asked Hamilton.

“Archive Seven is in the Fomalhaut system,” said Hamilton. “But access is hard to get. There are research waiting lists parsecs long.”

“I know that Archive’s administrator,” said Kuttner. “If she hasn’t retired by now. I’m sure she’ll make an exception for us in this case.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’ll get us under way.” He stood up to leave.

“Good,” said Kuttner. “While you’re at it, get the repair crews in overdrive. I want us ship shape for whatever’s coming next. And tell Cade to get the main gun back online. I have a feeling we’re going to need her.”

“I will study the data I collected from the attack on us and the Odysseus,” said Drizda. “Perhaps it will give us more insight into what these things are and how to destroy them.”

“Good,” said Kuttner. “Meeting adjourned.”

He waited until Hamilton and Drizda had left, then opened up a tightbeam relay. He might be violating orders, but he still wanted to keep his old friend Admiral Sheldon advised on what they were doing. Perhaps it would keep League administration from declaring another war on the Draconi until they could figure out what was going on.

Chapter Ten

Sparring

Lt. Commander Leda Niles raised her katana into ready position and waited for her attacker to do the same.

The sword had been a gift from her father, who in turn had received it from a minor shogun on New Nippon. It had been made by that world’s finest swordsmith, and was truly a beauty to behold. The curved blade glinted brightly in the training room’s spots, and it was perfectly weighted and balanced. The bone handle was wrapped tightly with blue silk thread; she enjoyed the feel of it as she twirled the weapon in her left hand.

It was wickedly sharp as well, being constructed of a nanocarbon steel alloy, something that hadn’t existed in feudal Japan on pre-Singularity Earth. It would never dull or need sharpening.

Her sparring bot stepped into view four feet away and lifted its own sword, a scaled down, modern version of Leda’s weapon, designed and printed by Leda herself. The bot was a head shorter than Leda’s five foot eight. Its black carbon nanotube carapace glinted darkly in the light of the training room, making it look like some anthropomorphic beetle. Leda wasn’t as heavily protected, wearing only flexsteel pads on her chest, arms and legs. The bot was programmed for low impact sparring so it couldn’t really harm her, but accidents did happen, and the chance that she could be injured excited her, made it feel like a real battle.

The Dragon War was over, but as a soldier she kept herself ready should such days return.

Her ersatz attacker lunged forward, bringing its sword down in a smooth slicing motion that Leda easily countered, blocking its blade with her own.

The next move was hers, and she came at her opponent fast, her blade scything through the air at her attacker, and it parried and blocked her just as quickly.

Leda enjoyed these workout sessions. She longed for a flesh and blood sparring partner, but the bot’s AI learned more each time they fought, making it tougher to beat with every session. Now it was countering her almost move for move; time to change things up.

Leda sidestepped her opponent’s latest sword thrust, getting inside its reach and delivering a swift side kick to its midsection, sending the bot sprawling on its back, its sword flying from its hand and sliding across the mat. Leda stood over it, her blade at the closest thing it had to a throat.

“Point Lt. Niles, for the win,” it said in an emotionless metallic voice.

Leda grinned. Her cochlear implant chimed.

“Niles,” she said, panting.

“This is Straker,” said her boss. “Meet me in my office in ten.”

“Yes, sir”

Her implant bleeped as the circuit closed. “Duty calls,” she said to the defeated sparring robot.

It rose to its feet and retrieved its sword, then went and plugged itself into a charging crèche set into the far wall. Leda sheathed her own sword and headed for her quarters. If she hurried, she’d have time for a sonic shower before her impromptu meeting.

Straker loved surprising her with meetings, inspections and any extra work he could find to dump in her lap. Her position wasn’t glamorous, but as administrative assistant to the head of Special Operations and the Fleet’s Chief Science Officer, Leda got to be involved in some interesting—and highly classified—work. Still, there hadn’t been a lot to do in the eighteen standard months since the war ended, and she had felt herself getting restless. Hopefully Straker had something more exciting for her to do than shuffle data flimsies.

Leda stood before her boss’s door, freshly showered, wearing a clean white uniform worked in the black and white of Special Operations. Her brown hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and she wore an officer’s cap on her head. She carried her slate in her left hand.

Leda made a move to knock, but the door chimed and slid open. It was one of Straker’s more annoying habits to always somehow know when someone was at his door. Leda marched inside stiffly. Straker was big on protocol, at least among his subordinates. He stared up at her from behind his desk, his dark eyes taking in her presence.

“Sit down, Lieutenant,” he said. As she sat in a molded plastic chair across from his desk, Straker opened a drawer with his left hand and inspected the contents. Then he reached in and selected a long cigar, placing it under his nose and sniffing it approvingly before snipping off the end and jamming it into his mouth. He flicked out an antique lighter and lit the end, filling the room with pungent smoke.

Leda sat primly and tried to pretend the smoke didn’t bother her. Straker had no vices save this one, and believed smoking was one of the advantages of being planetside as opposed to the pure oxygen environment of a spaceship, where lighting up could prove deadly. The whole exercise was more of a strange affectation than a health hazard. The cigars were made of a non-carcinogenic synthetic tobacco the planet where Special Ops was headquartered was famous for.

After a minute of puffing, his eyes on a spot in the far corner of the ceiling, Straker finally looked at her. “You’ve done great work here, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, sir.” Leda knew that Straker didn’t give compliments casually.

“I know things have been a bit slow since the war ended,” he said, exhaling harmless blue smoke to hang between them like a fog. “But things are picking up again. The mission of Special Operations has not only been R&D, but exploration.”

“I’m aware of that, sir,” said Leda, wishing he would get to the point.

“We’ve explored less than a tenth of our galaxy,” he went on, as if he hadn’t heard her. “We’ve already found evidence of the Progenitors, and encountered the Draconi. Who knows what else is out there?”

“I don’t know,” said Leda. “But I’d love to find out.”

Straker nodded. “That’s good, Lieutenant. Because you’re going to have to make some hard choices in the coming days.”

“How’s that?”

“Are you aware that your old boyfriend, Commander Hamilton, is in a bit of trouble?”

“What?” she said, leaning forward slightly. She stopped herself before saying, “When is he not in trouble?”

Straker nodded. “It seems that the good commander and the captain of the Onslaught have decided to buck orders and are currently AWOL and possibly in possession of information regarding a superior alien race.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I just need to know where your loyalties lie,” said Straker.

“With the Admiralty, of course,” she said without hesitation. “And to Special Operations.”

Straker nodded. “That’s good to hear. I just want to make sure any personal feelings you might have don’t jeopardize our work here.”

“No, sir,” said Leda. “What Commander Hamilton and I had died a long time ago.”

Straker grinned around his cigar. “Good. Dismissed.”

Leda got up and exited his office, but her head was filled with questions. What the devil was Straker talking about? Alien technology? And what the hell had Noah Hamilton gotten himself into now?

Chapter 11

The Archive

Archive Seven was a massive black pyramid hovering in the L1 of a lifeless planetoid fifth out from its host sun. Hamilton had been aboard an Archive once before, but he still wasn’t prepared for the sheer size of it.

The Archive was immense, bigger than all the pyramids of ancient Egypt put together. It dwarfed even the Onslaught. He looked at it, a shimmering, metallic black against the darker black of space, its pinnacle limned in starlight, and couldn’t help but feel hopelessly insignificant. A race that could build this, he reasoned, could snuff out his life as easily as he could step on an ant. And yet that race was long dead, while he was still here.

Hamilton took a deep breath and smoothed his uniform front. He was here to complete a mission, not ponder the meaning of his existence.

“Hail the Archive,” said Captain Kuttner.

“Channel open,” said Brackett.

“This is Captain Henry Kuttner of the LS Onslaught,” he said. “I’d like to speak with Administrator Solomon.”

There was dead silence on the other end for a long moment. “This is Dr. Solomon,” said a female voice testily. “State your business here.”

“We believe the Archive contains data of the utmost significance.”

“Where have I heard that one before? Hank? What’s going on?”

“We don’t have time for chitchat, Helena,” said Kuttner. “We’re all in great danger. And we think by studying the Progenitor epics we’ll find a way to stop another long and costly war with the Dragons.”

“Hold, please,” said Dr. Solomon.

Kuttner rolled his eyes as the feed went silent. “I hate this bureaucratic crap.”

“How do you know her?” asked Hamilton.

“It’s a long story,” Kuttner muttered.

Hamilton nodded. He knew what that meant. He had a few long stories himself, and had known the captain just long enough to know when not to pry into his personal life.

“All right,” said Doctor Solomon after several minutes. “You’re going to make a few hundred grad students very jealous, but you can send a small party aboard.”

“Great, Helena. Thank you. I’m sending my first officer, a Draconi scientist, and a couple of Marines. That OK?”

“Fine,” she said. “Solomon out.”

Kuttner turned to Hamilton. “We’ll prep a shuttle for you. Select a couple of Marines and get over there on the double. We may not have much time before another attack.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’ll take Ellison and Rodriguez. Dutton’s too trigger happy.”

“Fine,” said Kuttner. “You’re in charge of this jaunt. Get what we need and get out.”

“It may take a little time,” said Hamilton. “Like finding a particular needle in a stack of needles.”

“If I know Helena Solomon,” said Kuttner, “she’s got that entire Archive indexed by now. If what Drizda needs is in existence, you’ll find it here.”

Ellison expertly guided their shuttle toward the immense black pyramid. Its huge size was even more apparent outside the Onslaught. It was so formidable, so ancient, that it took Hamilton’s breath away.

As they neared it, a small opening appeared toward the pyramid’s base, and Ellison fired the shuttle’s attitude thrusters to line it up with the docking port. “We’re going in,” she said, as the opening loomed larger in the shuttle’s observation blister.

Moments later they were inside the massive structure, the docking door closed, atmosphere pressurized to Earth standard. Hamilton unstrapped from the crash couch and opened the shuttle door. Drizda did the same and joined him at the opening, her slick black tongue flicking out, tasting the atmosphere, her reptilian eyes going over every inch of the docking bay.

As they stepped out of the shuttle, a complement of Archive personnel walked out to meet them. There were two white-robed docents, one male, one female, tightbeam quantum net uplinks fused to their bald skulls. Standing between them was a tall woman wearing the familiar white and black uniform of Fleet Science. Her shoulder length hair had once been blond, but was turning an intense white. Her eyes were a pale blue, set in high cheekbones. Hamilton could tell she had been very beautiful in her younger days, and she still was, but her bearing made her look more tough and formidable than anything else, a facade as impregnable as the alien structure she occupied.

“Dr. Solomon, I presume,” said Hamilton, extending his right hand. “I am Commander Hamilton of the LS Onslaught.”

Dr. Solomon simply stared at him, her arms at her sides. “I don’t know what this is about, but we are in the middle of some very important indexing and core dumping. The Archive’s servers are quite slow.” She looked at Drizda a bit warily.

Drizda stepped forward. “Doctor Solomon,” she said. “I am Drizda of the Draconi Science Guild.”

Hamilton glanced at her, impressed at her use of mankind’s name for her race. What the Draconi called themselves was unpronounceable.

“Our colonies are being destroyed,” she went on. “And yours, too. We believe a clue to the things that are attacking both our peoples lies somewhere in the Progenitor Epics.”

Solomon arched an eyebrow. “Are you a student of the Epics?”

“Only casually, when I was younger.”

“The Epics are complex and lengthy,” said Dr. Solomon. “Too big even for a single Archive to store them all. Without knowing what you’re looking for—”

“I think I do,” said Drizda. “With your permission and help, I’d like to try. The fate of worlds hangs in the balance.”

Hamilton nodded. “She’s telling the truth, Doctor Solomon. We’ve seen these things firsthand. If the Progenitors knew of a way to stop them, we need that information now.”

Dr. Solomon’s icy demeanor softened, but only a little. “All right. Follow me. My docents and I will help you all we can.”

Chapter 12

The Progenitor Epics

Hamilton’s group followed Dr. Solomon and her docents through a veritable labyrinth of corridors.

“This place is amazing,” said Hamilton. His voice was a near whisper, but still it echoed loudly in the vast maze. “I always wondered why the Progenitors put these where they did.”

“I believe the answer is quite simple,” said Drizda. “If a race is advanced enough to detect an Archive’s presence, let alone reach it, then they are worthy of the knowledge contained within.”

“That makes sense,” said Hamilton. “If anything about the Progenitors does.”

“They are still very mysterious,” said Drizda. “Did you know that out of all this knowledge of their culture and expertise, we still don’t have the slightest inkling what they looked like?”

Hamilton nodded. “Yes. I always thought that was strange. Ancient human civilizations always left behind cave paintings, pictographs, art. The Progenitors don’t have any of that. I’ve always wondered why.”

“Perhaps it simply never occurred to them,” Drizda offered as they followed Dr. Solomon and her docents around a bend in the corridor.

Hamilton looked at Drizda. She was incredibly bright. Surely she was an asset to Draconi high command. He couldn’t understand why they would shun her as they have.

“Why did your people cast you out?” he asked.

Her alien eyes flitted toward him. “I suppose you deserve an answer. I guess I owe you that much for sparing my life on Verdant.”

She was silent for a long moment before opening her mouth to speak. “My people were offended by my research. I was studying the origins of life on my world, and comparing my people to yours and what little we know of the long-dead Progenitors.”

“The origin of species,” said Hamilton. “That got pretty contentious back on my homeworld for a while too.”

Drizda nodded. “My people believe they were hatched from a Cosmic Egg by an all-powerful dragon we call the Egg Mother. They believe that, in the beginning, the Egg Mother was all that was. Her eggs became all the planets, and the glint of her scales became the stars. They also believe that we are chief among her children, masters of the stars, and that anyone else we encounter is inferior, and put there by her for the express purpose of being our food.”

Hamilton had never heard their cosmology put like this before, but based on what he knew of the Draconi it made perfect sense. Man’s first encounter with the Draconi was at a fringe colony. The colonists were slaughtered, many of them eaten.

“You say ‘they’ believe. You no longer believe this?”

“No,” she said, her tongue darting from her mouth. “My studies have concluded that this just cannot be. But that only made me an outsider. But there were other scientists before me who questioned the existence of the Egg Mother. That isn’t the reason I was cast out of my clan.”

“Then what was it?” said Hamilton gently. He could tell this was difficult for her.

“As I studied the Progenitors, I started to wonder what had happened to them. They left behind the Archives and the Q-gates, but nothing else of them lasts. We found a few archaeological sites on a couple of fringe worlds that might be linked to their civilization, but where did they go? How did a race of beings so powerful, and spread all across the galaxy, just vanish?”

“My people have wondered that as well,” said Hamilton.

“I believe that they were wiped out en masse by something,” she said.

Hamilton pursed his lips in thought. “A pulsar, a gamma ray burst, a supernova. Any one of those things could have done them in. But they were pretty spread out. An interplanetary civilization couldn’t get destroyed that easily. It’s part of the reason why we left Earth.”

“No. But that’s what I think happened. All at once, just…” she clicked her talons together.

“My people didn’t like that theory either. It made them uncomfortable, upset their place in the cosmos.”

“I’m sure they have trouble wrapping their heads around the concept of the Progenitors,” said Hamilton. “A race of beings more powerful than both our species put together, when you’re supposed to be the superior race.”

“Yes. And the fact that they were no longer on top sent them into a frenzy. Knowing of the Progenitors was bad enough, but when we encountered your kind, it really upset many of us. I believe that is part of the reason we attacked you so fervently. And for that, I am sorry.”

“My kind can be pretty irrational too,” said Hamilton.

“We’re here,” said Dr. Solomon as they exited the maze of corridors into a large central room. The floor was composed of some silvery material, with desks rising up from it at regular intervals, as if extruded from it. People sat at many of them, their eyes glued to virtual terminals upon which flickered incomprehensible sigils and glyphs representing the Progenitor language.

Dr. Solomon guided them to one of the desks. “You may access the Archive from this workstation,” she said. My docents will help you. She glanced nervously at the two marines.

“This is a peaceful facility not attached to the military. If this is some excuse to commandeer our research—”

“I assure you, Dr.,” said Hamilton, “this is nothing of the sort. Once we have what we need, we’ll be on our way.”

Dr. Solomon looked them over suspiciously one last time before disappearing among the many desks. A couple of researchers looked up from their studies but quickly got back to work. The rest ignored them, so involved in whatever they were working on.

Drizda sat before the terminal while the female docent showed her how to access and use the computer.

“How long do you think this will take?” asked Hamilton.

“I don’t know,” answered Drizda. “I will hurry as fast as I can.”

Hamilton turned to the Marines. To Lt. Ellison he said, “How fast can you get us under way once we’re ready to go?”

“I can start the pre-flight sequence from here,” she said, tapping a small metal plate embedded in her right temple.

“Good. We need to be able to make our next move fast.”

Drizda caught on quickly, and her two four-fingered hands moved deftly over the terminal’s keyboard, even though it had been retrofitted for human beings. Hamilton watched as data on the Progenitor culture flew past on the floating holographic displays.

“These are the files pertaining to a particular section of the Epics,” she said. “I believe what I’m after is contained within it.”

“Good. “Let’s get it and go.”

The male docent showed Drizda how to connect her slate to the terminal in order to download the information. Hamilton’s cochlear implant chimed. It was Captain Kuttner.

“Hurry it up. We’ve got company.”

“Almost done,” he said. “Should I be worried?”

“With our luck,” said Kuttner, “yes.”

The captain cut the connection.

Hamilton turned to Ellison. “Fire up the shuttle. As soon as this downloads we’re out of here.”

“Commander Hamilton,” said a familiar voice. He turned to see Dr. Solomon marching toward him. “A word?”

“We’re almost done here, Doctor,” he said. “I thank you for your cooperation.”

“Stuff it, Commander,” she said. “I’d like to know why there is another Fleet ship heading this way, and why they’re telling me not to let your people aboard the Archive.”

“It’s complicated,” said Hamilton. He looked down at Drizda, but her slate was still downloading the Progenitor information packet. Complex alien glyphs flickered across the device’s screen.

“If you’re in some kind of trouble that endangers the Archive and our work here, Commander, I need to know about it.”

“No you don’t,” said Hamilton. “We’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes. The Archive is in no danger.”

The huge structure shuddered, lights in its upper reaches flickering.

“You were saying, Commander?” said Dr. Solomon.

Chapter 13

Battle of the Archive

“Sir,” said Lt. Brackett. “The Heinlein has just emerged from the Q-gate. They’re hailing us.”

“What now?” said Captain Kuttner as he shifted uneasily in his command chair. “Open the channel.”

The view screen shimmered, and the gigantic close-up of the Archive was replaced by the visage of a stern-looking young woman in command gray. “This is Captain Dejah Carter of the frigate Heinlein. You are in direct violation of Solar Navy code. I have been mandated by the Fleet to order your immediate surrender.”

Kuttner arched an eyebrow. “For what? Missing my retirement party? Captain, don’t you think this is a bit excessive?”

“My opinions on the matter are not at issue,” she said. “I have my orders.”

“I see,” said Kuttner. “And who gave that order? On whose authority?”

“You are hereby ordered to surrender immediately and be remanded into my custody,” she said, ignoring his question.

Kuttner felt his face flush hot with anger. This girl was young enough to be his granddaughter, and she was supposed to surrender himself just like that?

“Cut the feed!” he commanded, and the view screen went dark.

“There’s something else going on here,” he said.

“They’re moving in at a high rate of speed,” said Hudson. “Estimated intercept in six minutes.”

Kuttner touched a button on his command chair, opening an audio channel to everyone on board.

“Listen up, everyone,” he said. Everyone on the command deck turned toward him.

“This is going to get ugly. “You all have promising careers ahead of you. If you wanted to mutiny right now I wouldn’t hold it against you. But something sinister is afoot here. Something out there is eating colonies and spaceships, and it’s almost as if the Admiralty wants to blame it on the dragons so we can go back to war with them. I think that’s wrong. I think it flies in the face of everything we hold dear. I think it disgraces the memories of everyone who fought and died so that we could have this peace. And I have no intention of obeying Captain Kindergartner’s order. If anyone disagrees, here’s where you get off. Kuttner out.”

The command deck was eerily silent. Kuttner stared into the faces of his crew, glad to find only loyalty there.

“We’re with you, Captain,” said Gunner Cade. “All the way.”

“All decks reporting their solidarity, sir,” said Brackett. All shuttles still present and accounted for, all escape pods still in their niches.”

Kuttner nodded. “Lt. Hudson, evasive maneuvers. All hands, battle stations.”

Hudson deftly turned the massive ship around as Cade warmed up the guns.

“Do not fire unless fired upon,” Kuttner commanded. “And only to wound, not destroy.”

Cade nodded. “Aye, sir. I’m looking for soft targets now.”

A wireframe schematic of the Heinlein floated in the air in front of Cade’s workstation that he moved and twisted around. Kuttner didn’t want to destroy another Navy vessel, but if he could cripple them it would allow them to get away and go back to tracking down those deadly machines that were at the heart of this whole mess.

“Sir,” said Cade. “They’re firing on us.”

“Taking evasive action,” said Hudson through gritted teeth.

“Deflector field on full,” said Kuttner.

The depleted uranium shell missed the Onslaught by little more than ten thousand kilometers, a hair’s breadth in spaceflight terms. It struck the Archive instead, a small blossom of flame appearing briefly for a flickering instant.

“No visible damage to the Archive,” said Cade.

Kuttner exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Get Hamilton and his party back here on the double.”

“The docking port is opening,” said Hudson. “Our shuttle is coming out.”

“It’s Hamilton,” said Brackett, head cocked as if listening to something. “He says he has what we need.”

“Hudson,” said Kuttner. “Keep us between the Heinlein and Hamilton’s shuttle, and plot a course for the Q-gate. As soon as the craft is aboard I want us away from here.”

“Aye,” said Hudson, his long fingers flying over the controls.

“Sir,” said Cade, an edge of unease in his voice. “Detecting hundreds of hostiles streaking this way. Small, metallic, equipped with cold fusion drives.

“It’s them!” said Kuttner. “Commander, I suggest you get your ass back here on the double. We’ve got even worse company.”

“They’re three minutes away,” said Hudson.

Kuttner nodded. “Cade, do not fire on the Heinlein. Brackett, get me their captain.”

“On screen,” said Brackett.

“Captain, uh, Carter,” he said. “Are you detecting a swarm of small metallic objects heading our way?”

Carter looked off screen for a second. “Yes. So?”

“So, those are machines capable of eating almost anything and using that mass to create new copies of themselves. They are what is destroying our colonies, not the Draconi.”

Captain Carter’s tough, all-business facade began to crack, her eyes suddenly unsure, fearful.

“Together we might have a chance of defeating them,” said Kuttner. If we—”

The view screen suddenly went dark.

“What happened?”

“Sir,” said Hudson. “The swarm just made contact with the Heinlein. Detecting hull breaches on all seven of its decks. They even chewed right through the defense field capacitors.”

“Receiving a priority message from the Archive,” said Brackett. “It’s Dr. Solomon.”

“On speaker,” said Kuttner.

“Hank,” she said in a fear-tinged voice. “What is going on out there? We here hit by something. And what are those things out there?”

“Helena,” he said as calmly as he could muster. “I don’t have time to explain. You need to evacuate the Archive immediately. Everyone there is in great danger.”

“What are you talking about? Evacuate? Do you know where I am right now? This structure has withstood eons in space.”

“None of that matters now,” said Kuttner. “Just listen to me.”

“Sir,” said Hudson. “I’m detecting stress fractures in the Archive’s outer hull. Its mass is decreasing.”

“On screen,” said Kuttner.

“Commander Hamilton’s shuttle has docked,” said Brackett.

“Good,” said Kuttner. “Tell him to get his ass up here now.”

The screen flickered to life once again, this time showing the Archive. It appeared a bit smaller from being further away behind them, but it looked normal. Then he saw them. Millions of them, crawling over the pyramid’s huge surface like a hoard of dull gray insects.

“Helena,” he said again. “Get everyone out of there. Get them on every ship you have and—”

They watched in horror as the Archive was taken apart right before their eyes, the hull disappearing under the swarm’s attack. The Heinlein wasn’t faring any better.

Hamilton stepped onto the command deck panting, followed closely by Drizda. “Why is the Heinlein here?” he asked.

“To demand our surrender and take me into custody,” said Kuttner. “Get eyes on her.”

The view screen split into two fields, one showing the slowly collapsing Archive, the other displaying the dying frigate is it listed sideways, its hull crumpling inward as it lost integrity.

Cade fired the ion guns, no doubt lashing out against a stray swarm machine that had wandered too close for comfort.

“Mr. Hudson,” he said. “Get us the hell out of here.”

“With pleasure,” sir.”

They felt the thrum of the engines as they powered up to full, and the terrible images they were seeing quickly shrank behind them.

“Destination, sir?” Hudson asked, his hands on the thruster controls.

“Anywhere but here,” Kuttner replied.

Chapter 14

End of the Line

The Onslaught emerged from the Q-gate seconds after entering it, but there was no sign of the carnage they had left. The effect was disconcerting, jarring, even for the ship’s computer, which always took a few seconds to catch up and figure out their new position.

“Hudson,” Kuttner snapped. “Where in the hell are we?”

“End of the Line,” said the navigator.

“Pulsar navigation confirmed,” said Brackett. “We have arrived in Sector 3363. End of the Line.”

Kuttner nodded approvingly. “Good work, Lieutenant.”

End of the Line was what the League of Worlds and its military arm the Solar Navy called the most remote system in human-inhabited space. It was so named because it contained the last Q-gate node. This was as far as the Progenitors got in their exploration and colonization of the galaxy. There was nowhere else for a ship to travel through the quantum network of gates but back down the line. From this remote star system, it would take three thousand years at top speed to reach Earth without using the Q-gates.

Kuttner always imagined some impossibly strange Progenitor vessel setting up a Q-gate, and then moving on at sub-light speed some unimaginable distance away to set up the gate’s quantum-entangled twin, going on and on like that for centuries until they had a grand network of such portals spanning light years. He often wondered if that lone vessel ever gone back through the Q-gate it had just installed to return to its people. Did the crew of that vessel even feel any connection, or bare any resemblance, to the people they left behind?

Kuttner stared at it through the ready room window until he heard movement behind him. He turned and found Hamilton and Drizda taking seats on the opposite end of the table. He gritted his teeth and sat down.

“If only there was something else we could do,” he said. He thought of Helena Solomon in the Archive, besieged by those things. Watching the ancient structure being slowly eaten out from around her. The process would take several hours, even though the actions of the machines had been swift, and the Archive was already starting to fall apart when the Onslaught left the system.

“They would have gotten us too,” said Hamilton. “We need to warn the rest of the Fleet.”

“Fleet be damned,” Kuttner muttered. “It’s like they don’t even care. They already sent another of their own to their doom. The captain…she was just a kid.”

“I know, sir,” said Hamilton. “She died serving the Fleet. Many of us could do a lot worse.”

Kuttner pounded his right fist upon the table. “Well, it’s over and done with now. What have you got for me?” He looked directly at Drizda.

“I believe these machines are molecular dissemblers,” said the alien. “They can break down any material at the molecular level, and then use those individual molecules to build whatever material or structure they need.”

“Like von Neumann probes,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner and Drizda stared at him.

“On pre-Singularity Earth,” Hamilton explained, “there was scientist named John von Neumann. He postulated that we could explore space by building probes that could make copies of themselves from the alien environments they encountered.”

“But these aren’t exploratory craft,” said Kuttner. “They’re on a seek and destroy mission.”

“I do not believe they are being intentionally malevolent,” said Drizda. “It is more likely they are just following their ancient programming. Maybe that programming got corrupted somehow. Perhaps the race that built and launched them died out, and they just kept going, only without guidance from their creators.”

“Or maybe this was their programming all along,” said Hamilton. “They could be like soldiers fighting a war that has been over for eons.”

“Either way,” said Kuttner, “there has to be a way to stop them.”

“Yes,” said Hamilton. “But how can you bomb something that can eat the bombs?” He turned to Drizda. “Any idea how fast these things can replicate?”

Drizda flicked her tongue into the air. “I assume as fast as they need to. They can break down raw materials at a molecular level and turn it into anything they need, probably within the space of several minutes. With each individual unit capable of reproduction at that speed, we’re talking exponential growth.”

“And I had Hudson do some course extrapolation,” said Hamilton. “They’re heading for the heart of League space, probably Draconi space too.”

“They’ll decimate our forces,” said Drizda. “All life in the galaxy is in danger.”

“Did you find that piece of the Progenitor puzzle you were looking for?” asked Hamilton.

“I have the necessary data,” said Drizda. “But I still need to go through it.”

Kuttner nods. “Get to it then. Let us know as soon as you find something. Hamilton, you and I need to find someone at the Admiralty who will listen to reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn’t send a frigate after us because I’m late for my retirement party,” says Kuttner. I think we’re a fly in someone’s ointment.”

Hamilton thought for a long moment. “Who did you tell about Drizda’s presence on board?”

“Just Admiral Sheldon,” said Kuttner. His eyes grew wide. “I called her while you were down on Verdant. She’s been getting de Gray treatments.”

Hamilton arched his left eyebrow. “Pretty expensive, even for a Fleet Admiral. You think someone’s paid her off?”

Kuttner nodded.

“What else?”

Kuttner rubbed his stubbled chin. “I expected her to tear me a new one. She just shrugged it off, told me to go on to Zephyr as if nothing happened.”

“That is odd,” mused Hamilton.

“You think the higher ups in Fleet have been compromised?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Hamilton said. “What if they’ve known about these things all along? And what if they want to make sure no one else does?”

“Why would they do such a thing?”

Hamilton shrugs. “What could technology like that be used for?”

Hamilton’s blue eyes grew wide. “It would be the perfect weapon. Especially against the Draconi.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t know how that would be,” he says. “Boy, Special Operations would love to get their hands on something like that. I’ll bet their funding really took a nose dive after the treaty with the Dragons was signed.”

Hamilton snapped his fingers. “That’s it. It’s got to be.”

“What?”

“I need to make a call.”

Hamilton nodded once. “All right. You can use the ready room. I’ll give you some privacy so you can call your old girlfriend.”

Chapter 15

Old Wounds

The chime of her tightbeam receiver woke Leda Niles from a troubled sleep. She got up as quickly as she could and padded across the room to answer it. She rubbed sleep from her eyes while the viewer warmed up, and stared at the security glyphs floating in the sea of decaying tachyons. Whomever this was from, it was important.

She sat down at the desk and opened the channel. “Yes?” she said sleepily.

A three-dimensional face coalesced from the quantum chaos. She wasn’t surprised to see that it belonged to Lt. Commander Noah Hamilton.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, but this is important.”

Leda nodded, rubbing her left eye. “I’ve been reading of your exploits. You’re becoming quite adept at disobeying orders.”

“We have good reason,” said Hamilton.

His face looked cold, fearful. All thoughts of sleep left Leda’s mind.

“What the hell is going on, Noah?”

“I wish I knew, Leda. We answered a distress call, and now suddenly we’re in the middle of an interstellar incident. Listen, I’m going to send you something, and then I’m going to ask you a question about it. I want your honest answer. And I don’t want to hear about security clearance or protocols.”

Leda nodded, and Hamilton punched a series of keys on his end. His image was replaced by a snippet from the Onslaught’s visual log. It showed a Navy vessel in orbit around a blue-green planet. Suddenly a swarm of small, strange craft descended upon the ship, like ants on a bit of food dropped at a picnic. Her mouth opened wide as the craft seemed to devour the ship right before her eyes.

The image froze, and Hamilton’s face reappeared.

“You got away from those things?” she asked.

“Barely,” he said. “We think they’re some kind of ancient, extraterrestrial von Neumann machines. Have you ever seen anything like them?”

Leda chewed her bottom lip. “I’ve heard rumors,” she said. “Unconfirmed reports from Oort cloud miners and vessels probing the fringes of explored space. But it’s nothing more than hearsay.”

“Let me guess,” said Hamilton. “Ships and mining colonies going missing. Not destroyed, just gone without a trace.”

“Something like that, yes,” said Leda. There was also the thing in Silo Six, she thought but didn’t say. She wasn’t sure if Hamilton knew about it from his time in Special Ops. She didn’t know much about it herself.

“Are you recording this?” asked Hamilton.

She gave a small grin. “What do you think?”

Hamilton smiled back. “Good. Download the video I gave you and put it someplace safe. I have a feeling it must might get us out of hot water with the Admiralty.”

“What do you mean?”

Hamilton rubbed his face. He looked tired. “I don’t know. I think someone high up is intentionally trying to sweep knowledge of these things under the rug.”

“That’s insane. Why?”

“So they can blame the missing colonies and ships on the Draconi and restart the war.”

“Why would anyone want another war with the Draconi?” she said. “Noah, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re telling me,” said Hamilton.

“We’re talking about a conspiracy within the Solar Navy,” she said. Leda had served proudly since her eighteenth year, as had her father before her. The thought that a portion of this proud organization could be corrupt was inconceivable.

“Yes,” said Hamilton. “The same Solar Navy who blackballed me and kicked me out of Special Ops when I started asking legitimate questions, exiling me to this used up rust bucket.”

He looked down at something, apparently self-conscious about what he’d just said.

Leda felt a frisson of guilt. If she had spoken up, helped him, or had just gone to bat for him with the Admiralty. But she had her own career to think of.

“I’m sorry, Noah. I—”

Hamilton held up a hand. “It’s all right, Leda. I was angry at first, but I know why you did what you did, and if I were in your shoes I probably would have done the same. This isn’t about that. This isn’t about me. This isn’t about us. This is about the future of life in this quadrant. Leda, while we and the Dragons are blaming each other for the destruction of our colonies, those things are out there eating every form of life they encounter.”

Leda steadied herself. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need you to find out everything you can about who’s involved in this. Off the record.”

“What are you going to do?”

Hamilton looked away for a moment, as if lost in thought. “I’m not sure yet. We’re looking for a way to stop these things. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

Before Leda could say another word, Hamilton cut the connection, leaving her alone in the dark, her mind racing with unsettling thoughts.

Chapter Sixteen

Drizda

Drizda had been studying her slate for several hours, and the lines were beginning to run together. She blinked her nictitating membranes a few times, then squeezed her eyes shut. There was a rap on the door, startling her.

She sat there silently, unsure of the protocol. Her kind simply entered a room when they wanted to come in.

“Enter,” she said finally.

The hatch opened and Commander Hamilton stepped through the portal, a smile on his face. Drizda stared up at him. She was amazed at the sheer range of facial features of which humans were capable. She still couldn’t read them, even while she recognized their import.

“Hello, Commander,” she said.

“I thought you could use a break,” said Hamilton. He tossed a metal tube onto the desk in front of her.

“What’s this?”

“It’s what passes for food aboard Navy ships,” he said. “It’s kind of like meat. It doesn’t taste that great, but you can live on it.”

Drizda picked up the tube and opened it, sniffing it carefully before putting it to her mouth and squeezing its contents onto her tongue.

It wasn’t the freeze-dried insects served aboard Draconi vessels, but it was passable.

“Thank you, Commander,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Any luck?”

Hamilton gestured to her slate, and she took it up again, holding it so Hamilton could see.

“What am I looking at?”

“These are Progenitor glyphs,” Drizda said. “Before I could begin searching the Epics for references to these swarm machines I had to reintroduce myself to their written language, which as you can see is very complex.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’ll take your word for it. Any luck?”

“Yes. I’ve been able to reacquaint myself with it quite easily. Now I’m going through the Epics to find that familiar snippet that I believe refers to these von Neumann machines.”

“The Epics are huge,” said Hamilton. “Without having a particular word or phrase to search for—”

“I have to go through it line by line, yes.”

Drizda stared at the lines. The Progenitors had apparently communicated physically using musical tones, described by one of her teachers as an eerie piping over a wide range. At some point they developed a written language, a complex method of sharing not just individual words but thoughts, ideas, and feelings.

Hamilton sipped his coffee. “An instructor told me once that the Progenitor Epics have more in common with Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony than Homer’s Iliad.”

Drizda nodded her head once, trying to mimic the action she’d seen the humans perform. “I’m not familiar with those works, but if a symphony is akin to one of our war hymns, I’d say your analogy is correct.”

“So what have you found out?”

“Not much so far,” said Drizda. “I’m isolating bits of the Epics that speak of various events in their history and tagging them so I can tell them apart. The Epics are more like one long piece of literature, or a song that gets passed down from one generation to another, each generation adding lyrics to it as they go.”

“Wow,” said Hamilton. “No wonder they’re so large.”

“I’m moving through it more quickly now. I’m up to what the Progenitors referred to as the Crystalline Age. I just wish I knew a time frame for their encounter with the swarm. Looking for the reference I need is like pinpointing a particular nucleotide sequence in a strand of DNA.”

Hamilton finished off his coffee. “Lt. Brackett thinks we should capture one so we can reverse engineer it. Maybe figure out a way to override its programming or communicate with it.”

“An excellent idea,” said Drizda. “I’ll continue my researches, let you know when I find something.”

“Why don’t you take a break?” said Hamilton. “You look exhausted. Hell, we all are.”

Hamilton cocked his head to one side. “Yes?”

Drizda started to ask what he meant, then she remembered the humans had implants in their inner ears that allowed instantaneous communications with other members of the crew. He was communicating with one of them now.

“Roger that. I’m on my way.”

Hamilton got up to leave. “That was Hudson. He’s located the swarm’s next likely target. Some kind of Draconi installation.”

“Where?” said Drizda.

“The Devlin system?” said Hamilton. “Pretty remote, even for you guys.”

“There’s a reason for that,” said Drizda. “It’s the location of one of our subspace hatcheries.”

“What?”

“Thousands of Draconi eggs are stored there, waiting to hatch,” said Drizda. “We have to stop the swarm from destroying them.”

Hamilton nodded. “I’ll tell Kuttner. Maybe now we can somebody at Fleet to listen to us and stop blaming this on the Draconi.”

He left the room quickly, slamming the hatch closed behind him.

Drizda returned her attention to the slate, all thoughts of how tired she was pushed from her mind. She had to find a way to stop the Swarm now. It was just such slow going. If she’d been back aboard the Talon, she would’ve had access to a full range of scientific equipment with a faster computer. But here… She marveled at how dilapidated the Onslaught was. It was a wonder the humans had almost won the war. But she couldn’t focus on that now. Her eyes fell on a line of text and suddenly something clicked into place in her mind. She remembered. The glyph for eating paired with the glyph for space.

“Space Eaters,” she said aloud, testing out the phrase. Knowing the Progenitors, there was probably a whole range of nuance that she was missing, but that was the gist. The Progenitor’s Space Eaters had to be the von Neumann probes. She typed on the slate, telling it to search for those two glyphs only when used in combination in that particular order. She sat it down and let it do its work. Then she tapped a button the desk.

“Hamilton,” said the Commander’s voice through a speaker hidden somewhere in the small room.

“It’s Drizda,” she said. “I’ve found it.”

“Good. I’ll tell the Captain.”

She sat there and waited for the slate to compile her search. She clicked her teeth together excitedly, and knew that if her mouth had the ability to smile, she would be grinning from ear to ear, as the humans liked to say.

Chapter 17

Secret Meeting

After their talk the day before, Leda hoped that Straker would let her in on his little secret. Instead he kept her busy shuffling papers and tending to completely innocuous matters. And all the while she could feel his eyes on her, even when he wasn’t around.

She couldn’t get her conversation with Hamilton out of her head. What if everything he said was true? What if there were machines out there that could eat everything they encountered and make copies of themselves? And what if the Admiralty was covering it up? It made no sense. Why would they do such a thing? But she had never known Noah Hamilton to lie. He was many things, but liar was not among them. She owed it to him to take his word, at least for now.

Leda kept her eyes on Straker too, which wasn’t that difficult. She kept his appointments, knew his movements. He was a very disciplined man, structured and routine. So far he had done nothing that struck Leda as out of the ordinary. On the surface, everything seemed above board, but that was what bothered her about it.

Every day at 0300 hours he had nothing on his schedule for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of dead time, in the middle of the afternoon. At first it didn’t concern her, but now, after their bizarre meeting, after what Noah had told her, Leda decided she wanted to know what her boss was up to.

For the past several weeks at that time she had seen him go into an empty conference room and lock the door for that twenty minutes. It was a strange place to take a break. Most people preferred to walk the gleaming promenade outside, enjoying the fresh air. Whatever Straker was up to in there, it was off the books, and something he didn’t want his assistant knowing about.

At five minutes before the appointed time, Leda entered the empty conference room. It was dark, save for a few spot lights at the front of the room. There was a lectern facing rows of long tables equipped with holo emitters, as most of the meetings that occurred here weren’t physical, but conducted via tightbeam across light years of empty space.

Leda chewed her bottom lip, pondering her next move. She settled on simply crawling under one of the tables. There was a risk she would get caught, but she could always tell Straker that she simply wanted to be more involved in whatever he was working on. It was risky, but it was a chance she was willing to take. She was an officer of the Fleet, sworn to uphold and protect the League of Worlds.

She scrunched herself under the middle row of tables as comfortably as she could manage, and started to take shallow breaths as the door opened and Straker entered. She could smell his cigar smoke as he crossed over to the lectern. He tapped some control studs atop the lectern, and the spotlights went out, the holo emitters on the tables flickering to life. Leda heard the room’s tightbeam chime as a connection to somewhere was made. She peaked out between two chairs, focusing on the back of the room where four ghostly forms had appeared, their faces purposefully obscured in shadow.

“Good afternoon,” said Straker warmly. “What is the news from the front?”

“Things are coming to a head,” said one of the phantoms. His voice was distorted digitally. “We’re moving our warships near the border of Draconi space. Those damned lizards won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Good,” said Straker.

“The Draconi will figure out something’s up before we’re ready to strike,” said another ghost, his voice similarly distorted. “And those infernal machines are eating our forces too.”

“Please tell me you have a handle on them,” said the third figure.

“Well,” said Straker. “It will take time. But we’re making huge progress with—”

“We have another wrinkle as well,” said the fourth figure. The voice was altered, but Leda could tell she was female. A nimbus of grayish hair shown around the edges of the shadow obscuring her face.

“Yes?” said the apparition next to her.

“The Onslaught,” she said. “Captain Kuttner may have accidentally stumbled into our ruse. He was ordered to back off, but he disobeyed.”

“Kuttner and his ship will not be a problem,” said Straker. “The Swarm will see to that.”

“He’s done a bang-up job at evading them so far,” said the woman coldly. “We need assurances.”

“I assure you all will go according to plan,” said Straker a bit testily. “By the time we declare war on the Draconi, no one will care how it started. And the Swarm will be ours to command. As I started to say earlier, the thing in Silo Six is teaching us much about the Swarm’s technology, its capabilities. By the time the Chaos Wave reaches League space, we’ll be able to stop it.”

“You’d better be right,” said the first man. “In the meantime, you’d better start running some misinformation. Word about the Swarm has gotten out, and people are getting scared.”

“As long as they continue to believe that it is a new Draconi weapon, that will only work to our advantage,” said Straker.

“Keep us apprised,” said the woman.

“I will.”

One by one the phantasms winked out of existence, and the spots came back up. Straker puffed on his cigar as he left the room, humming as he went.

Leda sat there for a long moment. She wanted to make sure he didn’t see her leaving the conference room. Besides, her left leg was asleep. She climbed out from under the table and shook her leg awake, thinking about what had just transpired. Noah was right. There was a conspiracy to start another war with the dragons. And the Swarm, whatever it was, was a part of it. And Noah, Captain Kuttner, and the Onslaught was right in the middle of it.

She had to get in touch with Hamilton somehow, let him know what she found out. But first she had to see what was in Silo Six.

Chapter 18

The Hatchery

After two Q-gate jumps and three weeks of travel at almost one quarter the speed of light, the Onslaught arrived in the Devlin system. The Draconi hatchery was exactly where Drizda said it would be, in the L4 of a large rocky world, light from a yellow G class star bathing its large solar panels with enough energy to keep the eggs warm and safe inside the orbital facility. It was a dull gray structure, its two solar arrays stretching out from it like enormous wings.

“Looks like we’re the first ones here,” said Kuttner, stifling a yawn. “Is this thing manned?”

“No,” Captain,” said Drizda. “All systems are completely automated. A ship comes around to check on it every few of our weeks, and on hatching day to pick up the hatchlings.”

Kuttner nodded.

“Looks pretty quiet,” said Hamilton. “I hope we didn’t get this wrong, and the Swarm is attacking somewhere else.”

“Sir,” said Hudson. “We’ve got incoming, bearing two zero zero mark four.”

“The Swarm?”

“Negative. It’s a ship. Draconi. Raptor class.”

“That’s not an egg ship,” said Drizda. “It’s an attack cruiser.”

“On screen,” Kuttner ordered.

The hatchery disappeared, replaced by a tiny dark spec illuminated by the sun. It was getting larger by the moment.

“They must have been patrolling the area and detected us,” said Hamilton. “And we’re not exactly where we’re supposed to be. We’ll have a hard time explaining this one.”

“But explain it we will,” said Kuttner. “Brackett, open a channel to that ship.”

“Aye, sir,” said Lt. Brackett. After a moment she said, “Connection established.”

Kuttner turned to Drizda. “You talk to them. They’re your people, after all.”

“But Captain,” she said, “I am clanless. They will not listen.”

“You’ve got to make them listen,” said Kuttner. “Come on. Do it. Think of the hatchlings.”

“Draconi vessel,” she said. “This is Drizda of the Science Academy. This vessel means the hatchery no harm. We—”

“I know that name,” snarled the voice on the other end. “You bring shame upon the Science Academy and our people, Clanless. What are you doing aboard a mammal ship?”

“They rescued me,” she said. “I have been tracking a grave threat to both our peoples.”

“The hatchery is no threat,” the voice barked. “It is sacrilege to bring the mammals here! You offend the Egg Mother with this trespass.”

“The hatchery is a target,” said Drizda. “We are glad you are here. We could use your help.”

“The Talon will offer no help to a clanless dzzt and a bunch of mammals. Leave this place or die.”

“What did he call you?” asked Hamilton.

“You don’t want to know.”

“They’ve primed their weapons,” said Lt. Cade.

Kuttner sighed. “Makes you wish those blasted machines would actually show up, doesn’t it? Battle stations.”

“We’ve got more incoming,” said Hudson. “Thirty degrees off the plane of the ecliptic. It’s them, sir. It’s the Swarm.”

“They’re coming in hot,” said Gunner Cade, warming up his targeting matrix. “There’s thousands of them.”

“Captain of the Talon,” said Kuttner. “This is Captain Henry Kuttner of the LS Onslaught. We are both about to be attacked by a swarm of alien probes that can eat your entire ship. Please take evasive—”

The Onslaught shook as an ion beam struck it, activating warning klaxons all over the vessel.

“Damage report,” said Hamilton.

“Hull breach on decks seven through nine,” said Brackett. “Defense field down to twenty percent capacity.”

“Another couple of hits like that and they’ve got us,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner nodded. “Hudson, put us between the Swarm and the hatchery as best you can. Drizda, I need you to transmit everything we’ve collected so far on the Swarm to the Talon. If that doesn’t make them listen to reason, nothing will.”

Drizda moved to Lt. Brackett’s workstation, slate in hand. Hamilton sat down beside Kuttner.

“Information sent,” said Drizda.

“Good. Now get to work on that Swarm secret weapon.”

“You think this will work?” asked Hamilton.

“Seeing as it’s the only thing we’ve got,” said Kuttner, “It had better.”

“The Draconi vessel is holding off,” said Cade.

“They are reviewing that info packet we sent,” said Kuttner. “Keep eyes on the Swarm.”

“Swarm cluster is coming in fast,” said Hudson. “Individual bodies starting to break off into smaller groups. They’re coming after all of us.”

“Get our capacitors up and running on full power,” said Kuttner. “Gunner Cade, any luck with the main gun?”

“She’s back on line, sir,” said Cade proudly.

“Good,” said Kuttner. He didn’t know what good the Onslaught’s central rail gun would do, and he didn’t even know if they’d need it. But he felt better knowing it was operable.

Cade took aim with the ship’s array of ion cannons, taking pot shots at the Swarm machines as they moved in closer to the Draconi hatchery. He got a few, but more latched onto the structure, beginning to consume it, breaking down the metal atom by atom.

The Razor suddenly came about, moving toward the hatchery, its own weapons trained on the Swarm machines.

“Tightbeam channel from the Talon,” said Lt. Brackett.

“On screen.”

The leering visage of the Talon’s captain appeared. She was virtually identical to Drizda, save for a faint yellow stripe that run up her snout and the various sigils of rank and clan tattooed on her scaly skin. “I am Grand Leader Koro,” she said. “We have reviewed your data and find it…troubling. You do us a great honor by defending our young. What would you have me do?”

Kuttner leaned back in his chair, surprised the Dragons were finally listening to reason.

Hamilton leaned forward. “This is Commander Hamilton. What we need to do now is survive this Swarm attack. We will help you offload your eggs and get to a safe system. Then you must tell your people that this entire quadrant is in danger. And there are factions within our own government who want to use this to ignite another war with you.”

The Draconi captain snarled, tongue darting from her mouth. “We have heard rumors of such talk within our own government as well, human.”

Hamilton and Kuttner looked at each other. “This is bigger than we thought,” said Hamilton.

“Understood, Grand Leader,” said Kuttner. “We’ll try to keep those things off of you while you remove your eggs. I’m afraid there’s not much we can do once the Swarm start eating.”

The Draconi nodded, and the screen winked out.

Kuttner stood and looked toward the communications console. “What have you got for us, Drizda? Please tell me the Progenitors had a weapon against the Swarm.”

“Not exactly,” she said.

Chapter 19

The Thing in Silo Six

Silo Six was an underground structure deep beneath the surface of Marta, the League’s administration world. It was accessed from a nondescript beige building, one of several dozen spread out over the Fleet yards. Leda walked toward it as she had hundreds of times, though this time it was with a heavy heart. The sun shone brightly in Marta’s pink sky, and people moved all about in their various errands, oblivious to the danger that was possibly headed their way. In the distance was Marta’s spaceport, where dozens of ships arrived and departed every day, most of them military, but some commercial.

But Leda had no time to watch ships streaking off into space. Today what she wanted lay below her feet.

She stepped up to the building’s one entrance, showing her ID badge to the black plastic security scanner mounted next to the door. She then gave it her thumbprint and stared into the retina scanner. The door opened with a heavy click, and she stepped inside.

The room was empty, save for an elevator. She stepped into it and pressed the only button, down.

Leda hadn’t been down here in years. Not because Special Projects was something she wasn’t cleared for, but because their work never crossed her docket. The elevator door opened and she found herself standing in a vast circular room with walls of dull gray metal. The space was filled with plastic crates of various sizes, all with top secret coded number designations stenciled on their sides. The contents of most of them were above her pay grade, but Leda hoped she could nevertheless find whatever Straker had referred to in his secret meeting less than an hour ago.

She walked through the maze of crates, grateful that no one else was down here. Silo Six was mainly used for storage, which made her wonder why Straker would have placed an active project here. Her eyes glanced at the crates, noting warily the radioactive and biohazard glyphs displayed on some of them, until she neared the center of the room, which was dominated by a low hum. As she stepped around a large crate Leda noticed a faint blue glow.

There it was, in the dead center of the room. Leda stepped up to it. It was suspended inside a powerful electromagnetic field. Bio stasis and contagion protocols were also in effect, but Leda suspected she knew the real reason for the field. A strange machine or probe of obvious alien design floated inside the field, which was being emitted from a white round dais that rose up from the floor. The thing was damaged, and looked as if it had been in space for a very long time, its surface heavily pitted from micrometeorite impacts. It was about eight feet long, with a cylindrical body. Rows of long, metal appendages circled the bottom, though some of them were damaged or missing. The top was capped with a mushroom-shaped disk, probably some sort of sensor array.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Leda spun around, startled. Walking slowly toward her, weapon raised, was Colonel Straker, a grim smile playing on his lips.

“We found that out in Sector 3346. A couple of comet miners discovered it in the Oort cloud there. Special Projects paid a pretty penny for it, of course. You’d be surprised what a little silence can cost you.”

Leda looked at him. “Those things destroying our colonies. You’ve known about them all this time?”

“It wasn’t dead, either,” said Straker, ignoring her question. “Not entirely. It taught us so much about our place in the universe. It showed us that we weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”

He stepped closer, his gun aimed at her head. “I’m sorry, Leda. I really didn’t want you to find out this way. I was going to bring you in when the time was right, but you stumbled into it before I could prepare you. It’s not very nice to spy on your boss when he’s in an important meeting.”

Leda’s blood went cold.

“Oh yes. I knew you were there. But I couldn’t very well let the group know, now could I? So I decided to give you enough rope to hang yourself. I followed you here, to Silo Six. I’m sorry for the subterfuge, but I had to see if we were on the same side. Are we on the same side, Leda?”

“I should ask you the same question,” she said evenly. “What the hell is going on here, Colonel? If you knew about them, why didn’t you warn the rest of the Fleet?”

“Come on, Leda. You’re a smart girl. Think. This is first contact with a new alien species.”

“But they’re machines.”

Straker shrugged. “So are we. At a basic level, we are nothing more than chemical machines made of carbon and water. We just wanted to meet our new neighbors.”

“But they’re killing us. They’re just blind machines carrying out some ancient programming.”

“Yes. To consume and reproduce. As are we.”

“You sound as if you admire them.”

“I suppose I do,” said Straker. “Well, I admire what they can do. Just think of what such a technology could do for us. We could finally end the war.”

“We did end the war,” said Leda. “We’re at peace, remember?”

“But for how long? I’m not talking about enduring an uneasy truce implemented by some one-sided treaty. I’m talking about actually ending the war the right way. With our victory.”

“You want to reverse engineer the Swarm’s tech and use it against the dragons,” Leda said.

“Oh, our plan is far more grandiose than that,” said Straker proudly. “We want to reprogram the Swarm and turn it against the Dragons. These marvelous machines would leave us alone entirely. Imagine, mechanical hunters sent out to hunt and destroy the lizards, like one of our nano viruses seeks and destroys cancer cells in a human body. It’ll be glorious.”

“You’re insane,” says Leda. “You’ll violate the peace treaty, and spark another long and expensive war.”

“And you’re short-sighted and naive,” said Straker. “Our little friends out there will make war obsolete. We’ll be the dominant species in the galaxy. Hell, the entire universe. And we’ll be more than ready for what’s coming.”

“You won’t get away with this. There are people above your head. They’ll stop you.”

Straker laughed. “My dear Leda. Everyone who could stop me is already on board. The Admiralty, most of it, anyway, want this to happen. We’re soldiers, Lieutenant. And now we have to sit on our hands because of some inane treaty? Look what those lizards did to our homes, our families. They are a disease. And the mechanical Swarm heading this way is the cure.”

“Those machines think the same thing about us,” said Leda as she carefully reached behind her back for her sidearm. Being armed at all times was no longer the protocol now that the war was over, but old habits die hard.

Reading her body language, Straker raised his weapon higher. “Not so fast. This doesn’t have to end this way, Lieutenant.”

“You wouldn’t kill me,” she said. “That will raise too many red flags. Even for you.”

Straker grinned. “Would it? Imagine my surprise when I found out that my personal assistant, one of the finest officers I’ve ever known, was stealing top secret materials right out from under me. I pleaded with her to stop, but she pulled her gun on me. It was self-defense.”

Leda lowered her hands. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“Indeed. The wheels have been in motion for years, Lieutenant. We’ve known about the Chaos Wave for a very long time. When it gets here, we’ll be ready for it.”

Chapter 20

The Star Swarm

“It’s quite simple, really,” Drizda explained as she tapped her slate, her long talons clicking against its surface. “The Progenitor Epics speak of a song that will calm the Swarm.”

“Calm them?” said Kuttner, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s their word for it. Calmness is the feeling the word conveys, anyway. Perhaps it means they will go to sleep or shut down.”

Kuttner waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever. I don’t care what it means, as long as it stops those things from eating our ship right out from under us. Communications is yours.”

Drizda turned to Lt. Brackett. “We need to recreate these precise tones,” she said, showing Brackett the slate.

Brackett nodded. “I think I can do that,” she said. “It should be no different than transmitting tones to the Q-gates.”

“Main body of the Swarm approaching,” said Hudson. “They’re headed right for us.”

“Drizda?” said Hamilton. “Are you ready yet?”

“Not quite, Commander.” It will take several minutes to find and generate the tones.”

“We don’t have several minutes,” said Kuttner. “Cade. Warm up the main gun. Let’s see how they like snacking on depleted uranium.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cade’s hands flew deftly over the weapon controls, and Hamilton thought he could hear the soft thrum of the electromagnets charging up through more than a kilometer of titanium and nanocarbon plate. The Onslaught’s central rail gun was what the ship had been built around, one of the most powerful weapons space-faring man had ever devised.

“Fire at will, Gunner Cade,” Kuttner ordered.

“Firing,” said Cade.

A metal cylinder the size of a barrel and filled with depleted uranium was hurled along the rail gun’s length by two powerful electromagnets, accelerating it to thousands of kilometers per second. It exited the main gun with deadly velocity, streaking toward the mass of Swarm machines at a high rate of speed. It struck dead center of the mass, the individual von Neumann probes rippling outward from the impact like a school of fish changing course. There a tiny blossom of orange fire appeared and then vanished. The hole created by the explosion was quickly filled again by the remaining Swarm machines, and they kept coming.

“Apparently, they like the taste of uranium very much,” said Hamilton. “Drizda, status report.”

“Almost there, Commander.”

“So are they,” said Kuttner.

“We’ve got the tones, sir,” said Brackett. “Sending now.”

They could hear and feel the Swarm ships pelting into them like rain on a tin roof.

“They’re chewing into us,” said Brackett. “Most decks reporting multiple hull breaches.”

Kuttner muttered something under his breath, flicked a comm circuit on his chair. “Dutton,” this is Captain Kuttner. Prepare to repel boarders.” He looked to Drizda. “Why isn’t your damned lullaby working?”

“Unknown,” said Drizda, rechecking her slate. “It should be making them calm.”

“Maybe calm means chew faster,” said Hudson, but no one appreciated the joke.

“Maybe they can’t hear us,” said Hamilton. “Try everything. Tightbeam, even radio.”

“Radio!” said Brackett. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She tapped her controls. “What frequency, though?”

“I have no idea, said Drizda. “Can you try them all?”

Brackett blew an errant curl out of her eyes. “Yes. I think I can. Hold on.”

“Make haste, please Lieutenant,” said Kuttner. To Hamilton he said, “Now if we can just keep this old rust bucket together long enough for this to work.”

Hamilton nodded. “Hudson, how’s the hatchery holding up?”

“Thirty percent of its mass has been consumed,” said the navigator. “The Razor has managed to dock with it. We can only assume they are offloading the eggs.”

“Gunner Cade, keep firing on the Swarm machines near the hatchery,” said Hamilton. “Try to keep any more from latching on without damaging the facility.”

“Aye, sir. Like shooting ducks in a barrel at this distance. But there sure are a lot of ducks. Sir.”

“Understood. Just do your best.”

Hamilton had no doubts as to Cade’s abilities. He was the finest gunner and weapons engineer he had ever had the privilege to work with. But if Drizda didn’t get her little trick to work, all of their skills would come to naught.

*

Dutton adjusted the rebreather mask on his face. “Move!” he ordered, and Ellison, Rodriguez, and the others fell in behind him, their weapons held at the ready. They moved quickly but quietly up a narrow passageway. Dutton heard a metallic thud up ahead and raised a fist. Everyone stopped. Beyond the hatch in front of them something moved, and it was their job to make it stop moving. Quietly, he moved to the hatch and shoved it open.

The way was filled with smoke. The acrid tang of burnt wiring assaulted their nostrils even through their masks. The heads up display on Dutton’s tactical helmet cut through the smoke to outline something moving directly toward them.

It was on them in an instant.

Dutton couldn’t believe how fast it could move. It reached down from the damaged deck above, skewering Rodriguez straight through the chest with a long pincer. He screamed, as he was pulled up through the hole the thing had made above them.

Dutton and the others fired up into the hole, oblivious to whether or not they struck their comrade. Dutton knew from that gruesome wound he was dead already.

The alien probe did not engage them again, but retreated somewhere up the corridor above.

“We’ve got to get up there!” said Ellison.

“Belay that, Corporal,” said Dutton. “We’ve got a lot more of these things, and we need to make sure we’ve swept every section.”

“But, Sarge—”

“That’s an order, Ellison. Rodriguez is gone. Now let’s get those mechanical bastards before they get anyone else.”

Ellison stared at Dutton hard, but she fell back in line behind him. Dutton moved ahead, thinking that if he had been just a few seconds slower it would have been him instead of Rodriguez. It should have been him. He pushed such thoughts out of his head and kept moving.

There was a squad of Marines just like them sweeping most levels of the ship, along with the Onslaught’s Navy personnel. He hoped they were having better luck than his squad was.

“Squads, report in,” he said over the common circuit.

“Reid here. We’re moving toward the central rail gun. All clear so far.”

“Donovan,” said a panic-filled voice. “We’re being bombarded up here, sir. They’re everyw—”

Dutton broke into a run, and his squad followed. Donovan and his men should be somewhere up ahead. They ran through an open hatch and rounded a tight corner just in time to see one of the Swarm machines spear Donovan with one of its metal appendages. The Marine hung there limp, his features becoming sunken in, as if the machine were sucking the life out of him, which Dutton supposed it was.

The remaining Marines fired on the machine, the bullets either bouncing harmlessly off its thick metal skin or disappearing entirely, as the machine absorbed them.

In a few moments Donovan was gone, as his body, armor and all, was taken apart atom by atom. It was the most horrifying thing Dutton had ever seen, and he’d lived through a Draconi attack on a remote colony world in which a raiding party had hauled off women and children to be eaten. He screamed and fired at the machine, but it calmly returned its attentions to digesting the ship’s bulkhead, as if oblivious to their presence.

“Cease fire!” Dutton ordered. He glanced at Donovan’s remaining squad. There were only three of them left, and one of them was bleeding from the right shoulder.

“I’ve got an idea, sir,” said Ellison, reaching for a pouch on her equipment belt. She produced a small shaped charge.

“That thing’ll eat that explosive and keep on going,” said Dutton.

“Not if we attach it to the bulkhead.”

Dutton thought quickly. It wasn’t an outer bulkhead wall. They wouldn’t cause another hull breach, or do much more damage than the machines weren’t causing already. “Do it.”

Ellison carefully placed the charge near a section the Swarm probe was busy disassembling. She primed it and stepped back.

“Move,” said Dutton. “Back this way. Let’s go.”

They had just moved back around the bend through which they had come when there was a loud explosion. Dutton’s ears rang from the concussion. Martin, Donovan’s second, was mouthing something to him. It took a few seconds for Dutton to realize that he was actually speaking.

“All clear, sir,” Dutton heard him say once the ringing in his ears died down. “We got it.”

“Good,” said Dutton, relieved. They couldn’t blow up all of them, but it was something, and proof that those things weren’t invulnerable.

“We’ve got a lot more decks to clear,” said Dutton. “Let’s keep moving.”

They had taken three steps when another Swarm machine drilled through the level above to come down directly in front of them. A metallic tentacle shot out, wrapping itself around Lt. Sullivan’s right leg.

The young Marine cried out in pain. Dutton barely knew him, but he was a tough little grunt. Whatever this thing was doing to him must be excruciating. Dutton fired on the tentacle, severing it, the tip wrapped around the soldier’s leg unfurling and falling to the deck inactive.

“Everybody back!” Dutton shouted, irritated to be losing ground. Ellison and Rodriguez supported the still screaming Sullivan, lowering him to the floor while Dutton inspected his injury. The fabric of his jumpsuit was missing where the thing’s tentacle had absorbed it, and the skin beneath was red and raw, blood welling up. Another few seconds and it would have gotten to the bone.

“Medic!” Dutton shouted.

Sullivan’s armor was even now pumping him with pain-numbing drugs, but the wound needed immediate attention. Someone appeared from the back wearing a diagnostic gauntlet. She had been part of Donovan’s squad. While she tended to the injured man, Dutton peered ahead where the Swarm machine had broken through. It was already gone, drilling down into another level where it could no doubt cause even more damage. If something didn’t happen soon, these things were going to take the entire ship apart out from under them, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.

Chapter 21

Escape

“You’re insane,” said Leda, her eyes never leaving the barrel of Straker’s weapon. “I’ve heard the old stories too, and if even half of them are true there is nothing that can stop this Chaos Wave, whatever it is. The Progenitors couldn’t even stop it, and they were far more advanced than we are. What makes you think we can?”

Straker uttered cold, hollow laughter. “My dear Lieutenant, what makes you think I intend to stop it? I want to join its holy cause.”

Leda opened her mouth in an O of surprise. She wanted to scream at him, but no words came out.

“Don’t worry,” said the Colonel. “All will be revealed soon. You see, Leda, you were right about me. I have no intention of killing you.” He lowered his weapon. “I still need someone in my inner circle with your special expertise. Otherwise I would have banished you along with that meddler Hamilton.”

“So he was framed all along,” she said. “And the raids. The murdered scientists. That was all you.”

Straker bowed slightly. “Guilty as charged.”

“Then why send Hamilton and I out to investigate?”

Straker shrugged. “I knew that due to the nature of your assignment you would get wind of what I was up to sooner or later,” he said. “And Hamilton was so smarmy and cock-sure, I thought sending him in harm’s way would knock him down a peg or two. If both of you got killed by my Marines in the process, well, it would look like two soldiers getting it in the line of duty. But when you both came back I decided I could use someone with your talents and resourcefulness—and that I’d better put Hamilton as far from me as I possibly could.” He looked down at the floor. “It was working out great until Hamilton and that old fool Kuttner disobeyed orders and stumbled onto the Swarm entering League space.”

That’s it, Leda thought. Keep him talking. Leda moved her right hand behind her along the dais that held the damaged alien probe in its magnetic grip. Straker was distracted as he recounted his tale, his gun now pointed at the floor. It was now or never.

Leda took a step forward and kicked out with her left leg, knocking Straker’s weapon from his grip. It fell to the floor behind him and went skittering under a worktable. Straker mumbled an epithet and swung his fist at her, but she was already gone, standing beside the dais that held the alien probe suspended in its magnetic field.

“On second thought,” Straker grumbled, “maybe I will kill you after all.” He lunged toward her.

Leda slapped a button on the dais, and the magnetic field collapsed, the large, heavy probe teetering over and falling right onto Straker, pinning him to the ground. Leda drew her weapon and aimed it at his head.

“You…should know,” said Straker under the probe’s weight. “When that field…is deactivated…without going through necessary…protocols…an alarm is triggered.”

Leda stood there. Was he bluffing? She couldn’t be sure. Silo Six had alarms for its alarms. Even now a squad of MPs could be descending on her. She couldn’t afford to take the chance.

And she couldn’t kill Straker either. He wasn’t working alone, and the authorities can’t question a dead man.

Leda’s eyes darted around the room, her mind weighing her options. There was only one expedient course.

Lt. Leda Niles holstered her gun and ran.

“We could have…worked together,” Straker croaked behind her as he began shifting the enormous weight off his chest. She heard a heavy, metallic thud as he rolled it off of him. “Now you’re dead,” Straker called. “You hear me? You’re dead. All of you!”

Leda had to find someone in authority, someone she could trust. But not here. There was no one else currently on base who outranked Straker.

“Hamilton,” she breathed as she exited the elevator at the surface. She skirted round toward the rear of the building and darted through the maze of service structures and storage pods, while the sound of booted feet marched toward Silo Six. She had to reach the Artra system.

Leda paused long enough to watch a ship taking off on plumes of flame. Others stood nearby in various stages of pre-launch. Everyone was headed for the Artra system, where a new war with the Draconi was brewing. A war she knew Commander Noah Hamilton was desperately trying to stop.

Whether she got off this rock alive or not depended on what she did in the next few minutes.

“I’m coming, Noah,” she whispered, and ran toward the barracks.

Chapter 22

Swarm Song

“We’ve got it, Captain,” said Drizda. “Transmitting frequency now.”

“On speakers,” said Hamilton. “Broadcast it throughout the ship as well.”

Lt. Brackett touched a series of buttons, and a grouping of ethereal notes filled the air. It was completely alien, yet wholly beautiful, the notes lilting, haunting. Hamilton didn’t know what they were saying, but there was a definite feeling there. Of something. He hoped it resonated with the Swarm as much as it was with him.

At first there was no reaction. The Swarm kept up their programmed attack. The hatchery was almost gone, but the Draconi ship had signaled that they had successfully offloaded the eggs and were retreating with them to the Q-gate, vowing that they would send reinforcements to assist the Onslaught. Hamilton had little doubt that they would be too late.

But then the Swarm’s behavior changed. They halted their activities and just sat wherever they were, quietly, as if listening. Drizda tapped on her slate.

“It’s working,” she said. “The Swarm has fallen into some kind of rest mode.”

The bridge erupted in claps and cheers, which Captain Kuttner stifled with a wave of his hand. “We’re not out of the woods just yet,” he said. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Drizda,” said Hamilton. “Can the Swarm machines that chewed their way on board be safely handled?”

“Unknown,” said the Dragon scientist. “They seem to be docile enough at the moment, but I’m not even sure what these Progenitor tones are doing to them.”

“What are you getting at?” said Kuttner.

“I’d like to hang onto one of them for study,” said Hamilton. “It might reveal a way to defeat them for good.”

“I’m no engineer,” said Drizda. “But I’d love to tear one apart, see how it works. There is much we could learn.”

Kuttner worked his jaw. “Fine. I’ll have a squad of Marines snag one and bring it to one of the repair bays. Keep transmitting that signal.”

“I’ve got it on repeat, sir,” Brackett assured him.

Kuttner sat back in his chair and exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. They just might get out of this after all.

“All decks reporting the Swarm probes are shutting down,” said Brackett.

“The probes outside the ship are doing the same, sir,” said Hudson. “Their power levels are flat-lining. It’s like they’re going inert.”

“Looks like we’ve finally caught a break,” said Hamilton. “Good work, Drizda.”

The Draconi scientist nodded, her eyes never leaving her data slate.

Hamilton thought he could hear a strange muffled thud coming from somewhere amidships.

“Sir,” said Brackett. “We’ve lost communications, both broadcast tightbeam and onboard comms.”

“What happened?” said Kuttner.

“Computer reports an explosion in the communications room.”

Hamilton and Kuttner exchanged wary glances. They both knew what that meant.

“Text message a fire crew,” said Kuttner. “Get it tamped down.”

“Fire suppression systems activated,” said Brackett. “Looks like the fire is out, but I’m texting an emergency crew now.”

“Sir,” said Hudson. “The probes are waking up. They’re starting to tear through the ship again.”

“Tell those marines to look alive,” said Kuttner. Text a warning to their slates. I want them to know this is not over.”

Hamilton got up and went to Brackett’s workstation. “Is there anything you can do to get our comms back online?”

Brackett shook her head. “No, sir. Everything was controlled out of that room. My console is just a relay station. We’re stone deaf.”

“Without our tightbeam transmitter we can’t pacify the probes,” added Drizda.

“I know,” said Hamilton. “I know.”

“I might know a way.”

Kuttner spun around. Gunner Cade was looking at him and the captain from his workstation.

“What is it, Gunner?” asked Kuttner.

“We can rig up an electromagnetic pulse. Use the magnets in the rail gun to fry the probes infesting the ship, and any who get too close to us out there.” Cade jerked a thumb at the viewer.

“Won’t that fry everything else, Lieutenant?” asked Hamilton.

“A few minor systems, sure,” said Cade. “But everything else is pretty heavily shielded because of the magnets. We’ll reboot the main computer as soon as the pulse has passed. We should be fine.”

“Should be?” asked Hamilton.

Kuttner held up a hand. “Do it, Mr. Cade. The way I see it we don’t have any better options. How soon can you be ready?”

“It’ll take me about ten minutes to set it up.”

“Go,” said Kuttner.

The young man jumped from his seat and exited the command deck.

“Do you really think this is a good idea, sir?” said Hamilton. “We’ll lose power, life support…”

“I don’t like it any better than you do, Commander,” said Kuttner. “But Cade is one hell of a weapons engineer. If he says we’ll be all right, we’ll be all right.”

“Of course, sir,” said Hamilton. He had seen Cade’s prowess, especially since this whole conflict began. He was just worried that they were burning through their stockpile of dumb luck at an enormous rate.

The wait was excruciating, especially since they had lost contact with the marines who were facing the swarm probes head on. Finally, Cade reappeared, sweat and grease staining his brow. A coil of wires was thrown over one shoulder. Without a word he went to his workstation and dived head first beneath it. In seconds he had a panel off and was halfway inside the control console, manipulating a glowing tangle of fiber optic wiring. At last he emerged. “Ready,” he said, panting.

Returning to his seat, he called up a virtual control composed of a single large button.

“Ready when you are, sir.”

“Do it,” said Kuttner.

Cade hit the button. At first, nothing happened. Then the lights went out.

Chapter 23

Dutton’s Orders

Dutton was fighting for his life.

He had gotten cut off from his squad somehow, and sandwiched between two of the probes as they suddenly came back to life and resumed chewing their way through the ship, large metallic appendages somehow eating away at the metal bulkhead molecule by molecule until nothing was left.

Dutton yelled at them, but they paid him no heed. This angered him even more, and the big marine opened fire on one of them. He emptied an entire magazine into it before it was disabled. He reloaded and went after the other one.

Then a strange noise came over the ship’s communication system, flooding the corridor with alien noise. It was eerie, and Dutton couldn’t help but feel a little freaked out. But the probe still alive in front of him was slowing down, stopping.

The lizard bitch had done it. Dutton eased closer to the probe, his weapon still raised. He tapped it with the barrel of his gun. Nothing. But was it dead, or just sleeping?

“Sergeant Dutton,”

The sound of his name startled him, and he almost squeezed off a shot point blank into the skin of the now quiet probe. It took him a second to realize where it was coming from. It wasn’t the Captain’s voice, or Commander Hamilton’s.

Dutton reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small, metallic black object.

“Dutton here.”

“How goes the battle?”

It was Colonel Straker.

“Fine, sir. The probes have infested the ship, but the dragon found the Progenitor tones that stopped them.”

“What?”

“They’re stopped cold, sir,” said Dutton.

“Well, that just won’t do at all,” said Straker. “I need them functioning.”

“But they were attacking us.”

“People get attacked in wars, soldier,” said Straker evenly. “Don’t get squeamish on me now. Not when we’re almost at the endgame.”

Dutton shook his head. “No, sir. Of course not, sir. I’m here for you as always.”

“Good,” said Straker. “Here’s what I want you to do. You’re going to kill that signal. I don’t care how. And then—and here’s the fun part—I want you to kill that alien. Think you can do that?”

Dutton considered the order. He was unsure why it was a good thing to have their ship—his ship, the ship he’d been sworn to protect—infested with alien probes. But Colonel Straker was his true commanding officer. Not that senile old man Kuttner, or his conceited lackey Hamilton, whom Straker had fired for insubordination.

What was the old saying? Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do or die. The soldier’s mantra since before Dutton’s great grandfather had left Earth to explore the stars.

“Of course I can, sir,” he said. “It will be my pleasure. Especially that last part.”

“Good,” said Straker. “You’ve done good work, soldier. Over and out.”

Dutton returned the object to his belt and considered how to accomplish his new orders. He looked down at the combat webbing strung across his armor’s carapace. In it were several small explosive devices. He began jogging toward the communications room, a huge grin on his face.

Chapter 24

Betrayal

They sat in the dark for far longer than Hamilton was comfortable.

At last the red emergency lights came back up, followed by everything else.

“Computer’s rebooted,” said Cade. “No apparent damage. Other ship’s systems are slowly coming back online. We’ve got full life support, artificial grav, the works.”

“What about weapons?” asked Kuttner.

“Particle guns are charged and ready,” said the gunner. “The rail gun will never fire again. Not unless it’s completely changed out.”

Kuttner scowled. That, he knew, would never happen. The Onslaught was due to be scuttled before this nonsense with the Draconi and the alien probes. Now it was fit for little more than spare parts for the derelicts in the orbital museum encircling Tethys B. “Very well. You did good, Gunner.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Cade. Hamilton thought the young man looked surprised that everything came back up, and more than a little relieved.

“What about the Swarm?” said Hamilton.

Hudson checked his readouts. “They’re dead, sir. The pulse got them good.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” muttered Kuttner. “Even if we had to almost cripple the entire ship to do it.”

“What about the Draconi vessel?” said Hamilton. “Did it make it out with the eggs?”

“Yes, sir. It’s almost through the Q-gate now,” said Hudson. “They were well out of range of the pulse.”

“Maybe they’ll put in a good word for us with their high command,” said Hamilton. “We just have one more problem.”

“Which is?” said Kuttner.

“Finding out what destroyed our communications.”

“It could have been the Swarm,” said Cade. “They’ve caused damage all over the ship. An essential area was bound to be affected.”

Hamilton pursed his lips in thought. “That’s possible. I suggest we investigate it, though.”

“Agreed,” said Kuttner. “In the meantime, we’ve got bigger fish to fry. For example, what’s our next move?”

“I’d like to examine one of the probes,” said Drizda. “If we can learn more about them we might find a way to stop them all permanently.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Hamilton. “Every ship in the fleet can’t just disable themselves with an EMP, and we can’t get the word out about the Progenitor tones without our comms working.”

“Right,” said Kuttner. “Go with her, Commander. Make sure she has whatever she needs. In the meantime, let’s make repairs and get our tightbeam transmitter back up and running.”

Hamilton glanced at Drizda, and together they stood to leave. “Lt. Brackett,” he said. “Text someone to find one of those probes and bring it to repair bay three for us.”

They left the command deck and began walking down the main corridor toward the middle of the massive vessel. The place smelled like burnt wiring, and the crew they encountered was either running to take care of some problem or limping to the med bay because they were injured. They found repair bay three right where it had always been, though it was just as disheveled as other areas of the ship, tools and equipment lying on the floor. In the center of the large room stood Sergeant Dutton, his boot resting on one of the Swarm probes, which was lying on its side.

“I got your message,” said Dutton, tapping his wrist slate. He eyed Drizda as he said it, which made Hamilton uneasy.

Dutton removed his foot from the probe’s curved side, his weapon down and slung across his chest.

Ignoring the big marine, Drizda knelt next to the probe, examining it.

“It really is quite beautiful,” she said, her long tail swishing back and forth. “Each unit is probably unique, created for specialized tasks. I would not be surprised if they were designed using an evolutionary algorithm.”

“You mean so they can adapt to their environment?” said Hamilton.

“Yes.” She tapped the skin of the machine with her talons. “I wish I was an engineer,” she said. “I could glean more from its inner workings if I were.”

“You can tell us more about the race who built them,” said Hamilton.

Her tongue flicked from her mouth. “Perhaps. They’re likely to be very different from their original design. Just as you and I differ greatly from the amoeba of our home worlds. I do not think the later Progenitors built them, though it was certainly an earlier offshoot of their race.”

Hamilton looked down at the machine. It was utilitarian, yet it had a certain elegance about it. It reminded him of an octopus or a jellyfish. It also looked quite deadly. “I’ll get a couple of engineers down here, cut this thing open. Hopefully they can figure out what makes them tick.”

Hamilton knew some good engineers at Special Operations, but they were light years away. He thought of Leda, made a mental note to contact her as soon as repairs had been made.

That’s when his world exploded.

Something hard struck him in the left temple, and he saw stars as the deck rushed up to meet him. He shook his head to clear it, got clumsily to his feet in time to see Dutton with his weapon pointed right at Drizda’s head. Drizda stepped back into a crouch, growling low in her throat.

“What is this, Dutton?” said Hamilton, wishing he’d been carrying his sidearm.

“Just following orders, Commander,” said Dutton. “Like any good solider.”

“Orders from whom?”

Dutton didn’t answer as he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

Dutton scowled, pulling the jammed weapon from his shoulder and tossing it to the ground just as Drizda pounced, her long talons extended. They scraped nanocarbon armor as Dutton backed out of the way, drawing a long knife from a sheath on his belt.

“Stand down, Marine,” said Hamilton, with ice in his voice.

“No can do, Commander,” said Dutton, his eyes never leaving his opponent.

Drizda had dropped her slate to the deck and assumed a fighting stance. Gone was the rational scientist Hamilton had come to know and respect. Here instead was a steely-eyed predator that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He wouldn’t want to be in Dutton’s shoes. But the big Marine was well-trained and well-armed.

Hamilton almost tried to call for help as Dutton and Drizda circled each other, but he remembered the comms were down. If he was going to end this, he’d have to do it on his own.

“Dutton, you’ve been a good solider. You’ve got a promising career ahead of you. Don’t throw it away now.”

“Stay out of this, Commander.”

Dutton lunged at Drizda, but she sidestepped him easily, his knife slashing the empty air where she had once stood. Hamilton was amazed by how fast she was.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Hamilton.

“Yes, I do. Don’t try to get in my head. I know what I’m doing.”

Drizda lunged now, raking Dutton’s left shoulder with her claws. Blood welled up there, and Dutton winced. “All right, lizard. You’re going to pay for that.”

Hamilton grabbed up Dutton’s weapon and cleared the jam.

Dutton came at her again, but she blocked his blade and spun around, sweeping her tail into his legs and knocking him down.

“It’s over, Sergeant,” said Hamilton, aiming Dutton’s weapon straight at his head. “Stand down.”

“Never,” said Dutton as he slashed the knife blade across his throat, spraying red mist into the air.

“I need a med team down here!” Hamilton shouted, but of course this did no good. He grabbed up Drizda’s slate where it had fallen, intending to tap out a message to Brackett.

“It’s too late,” said Drizda. “He’s gone.”

Hamilton looked down at the Marine, puzzled why he would rather die than be taken in and questioned. Did this conspiracy really run this deep? Who else was involved? Could half the ship be against them?

“Are you all right?” Hamilton asked. The room was filled with the coppery tang of Dutton’s blood. It made him queasy.

“Yes, Commander. Are you?”

“Just shaken up.” He knelt over Dutton’s body to search it, going through his pockets, his equipment belt for any clue. Finally, he found something.

“He pulled a small black rectangle from Dutton’s belt, hefted it in his hand.

“What is that?” asked Drizda.

“It’s a tightbeam encoder and transmitter,” said Hamilton. “I haven’t seen one in years. Only Black Ops carry them. This isn’t standard marine issue. Come on. We’ve got to get back to the command deck.”

“To do what?”

“To find out who Dutton was working for, and to see if there is anyone else aboard on the payroll.”

Chapter 25

Repairs

It was hard to command a ship and coordinate repairs without a functioning communications system, but the Onslaught’s crew made the best of it. Lt. Brackett typed commands out to access terminals and personnel slates, setting repair crews in motion, while Kuttner paced the deck in thought, his hands clasped behind his back. He hated sitting here deaf and blind while the rest of the fleet were probably preparing for a war he was trying to stop. But they had no idea where to go or what to do next.

The door of the command deck slid open and Commander Hamilton and Drizda swept into the room, both of them covered in a spattering of blood.

“What the hell happened to you?” said Kuttner.

“It was Sergeant Dutton,” said Hamilton, breathing heavily. “He tried to kill Drizda. I wouldn’t be surprised if he blew up the comm room too.”

“What?” was all Kuttner could say. The big Marine had an anger problem, but he had always followed orders. “Did he say why?”

“No. He slit his own throat before he could tell us anything.”

Kuttner slumped heavily into his command chair. “He was a good soldier. I can’t believe he was in on this conspiracy nonsense too.”

Hamilton stood before him, holding a small rectangular object. “I found this on him. It’s a Black Ops tightbeam encoder and transmitter. Very high-tech and hush-hush. There’s no way Dutton should have been carrying this. This is how he received his orders to sabotage our communications and attack Drizda.”

Hamilton turned toward Lt. Brackett and tossed the tiny device toward her. She caught it and turned it over in her hand, examining it.

“You should be able to wire this into your workstation. It should work as a patch for our downed comm system.”

“I’m on it, sir,” said Brackett.

“Can we find out who the hell Dutton was talking to?” asked Kuttner.

“It’s possible,” said Hamilton. “But the transponder’s logs will be heavily decrypted. Fortunately, I know a faster way.” He turned to Gunner Cade. “Are the ship’s computers back online?”

“Yes, sir,” said Cade. “But the system just rebooted a few minutes ago. Go easy on it.”

Hamilton turned and headed for the Captain’s ready room, followed closely by Kuttner and Drizda.

Kuttner walked to the other end of the long table and huddled in front of the computer terminal there. After furiously typing for several moments he stopped to study whatever was on the screen.

“What are you doing, Commander?” asked Kuttner.

“I’m reviewing Dutton’s personnel file. I’m hoping it will tell us who he’s been getting his orders from.”

“My bet is on Admiral Sheldon,” said Kuttner. “We already know she’s involved. I’ve known that woman for twenty-five years. I can’t believe she sold us out just to get her telomeres lengthened.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” said Hamilton. “Look at this.”

Hamilton made a swiping motion with his hand, throwing the data he was viewing from the computer screen into hologram form above the table. Kuttner squinted, reading it.

“That’s just the details of his last post. Odin 3. I know it. The place is a hellhole. So what?”

“So, look at the name of his commanding officer.”

“Colonel Straker?”

“That tightbeam transponder Dutton was carrying is Special Ops tech, not something your common soldier would have in his kit. The Colonel is head of Special Ops.”

“So you think your former boss is behind all this.”

“I’m sure of it. Everything makes so much more sense now. He blackballed me and got me kicked out of Special Ops. I think it’s because I almost stumbled into this conspiracy or whatever it is months ago.”

Kuttner nodded. “And he’s got other people in on it with him, including Admiral Sheldon.”

“Most likely. This is too big for one person to handle.”

“But why would he want to go to war again with the Dragons? And why would he let those alien probes devour the entire Fleet?”

Hamilton shrugged. “I don’t know, but now we know who to ask.”

“Straker,” said Kuttner. “We need to get our communications back online so we can get the lay of the land.”

“Lay of the land?” Drizda said slowly.

“It’s an old figure of speech,” Hamilton explained. “He means we need to figure out what’s going on with the rest of our fleet. And yours too.”

Drizda nodded once, stiffly.

“I need to contact Leda again,” Hamilton said. “If I’m right, she’s in big trouble.”

“And if you’re wrong,” added Kuttner, “she’s in this up to her eyeballs.”

Chapter 26

Captured

“This is highly irregular, Lieutenant.”

Leda Niles grinned at the ship’s captain, a prim, slender woman a few years her junior. “Don’t I know it. But that’s Navy for you. They never make any sense.”

The captain looked over that data on her slate one more time before continuing. “But we’re on the eve of war. You really think you can talk the Onslaught’s captain into turning himself in?”

Leda fixed the older woman with a steady smile.

“That’s the plan. We need every able-bodied ship in the fleet if we’re going to stick it to those lizards.”

The captain of the small frigate swiped at her slate, glancing quickly at the data there once more. Everything appeared in order. It had all the right access sigils, and the signature of Colonel Straker was affixed in the bottom right corner, along with his thumbprint ID.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” she said. “I don’t mean to sound skeptical. It just seems strange, being this last minute.

Leda rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. The Colonel does everything last minute. And he wants me, his personal assistant, to negotiate with the Onslaught’s crew and get them to listen to reason.”

The captain, whose name was Fulbright, nodded. “Well, come on board. It’s cramped, but we’ll make room for you.” She stepped aside so Leda could come aboard. The frigate was indeed cramped, even by Solar Navy standards, and far smaller than the few battle cruisers and troop transports she had been on during her career. But it had a certain weird coziness she found comforting, and it somewhat reminded her of her quarters in the barracks. After appraising the ship’s interior, she followed the captain down the narrow corridor, small gray duffel slung over her right shoulder. If the captain wondered about the long, narrow wooden case she carried in her left hand, she didn’t say anything.

“We can bunk you in here,” said the captain, motioning to an open door on their right. “We’ve just been using it for equipment storage, but I just had that junk dumped off at the quartermaster’s office planetside.”

“Thank you,” said Leda. “This is more than adequate.”

The captain nodded primly before striding off, presumably to get her ship underway.

Leda stepped into the small room, which consisted only of a bunk, rudimentary lavatory, and a computer terminal and tightbeam interface. She placed her duffel and case on the bed, and immediately started to panic.

What if Straker gets the word out about what I’ve done? What if the captain requests confirmation of my credentials from Control? A million such thoughts assailed her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying her mind. She had made it this far. Everything would be fine. Besides, she had the evidence.

She closed and locked the room’s crude hatch, then knelt before the box. She opened the clasps and raised the lid. Her katana shimmered in the light. Leda could smell the mineral oil she had cleaned it with. In the lower left corner, stuffed under the cleaning kit, was the memory drive with data Hamilton had sent her. Here was a visual and sensory record of the Onslaught’s every encounter with the deadly Swarm probes since this nightmare began. She returned it to its compartment and closed the lid, running her slender fingers across the box’s smooth sides.

Hamilton would call her a sentimental fool. Space travel was expensive and dangerous, and officers in the Solar Navy knew that traveling to the stars meant packing light. But she could never leave such a gift behind, especially with Straker’s heavy-handed military police likely ransacking her quarters at this very moment. She wished she had her old ship, the decommissioned warsprite and its onboard AI, Proxima. She could use someone to talk to.

He could ground every ship.

Leda went into panic mode again, then calmed herself. Straker doesn’t have the authority to do that, and this is war. Almost every military vessel on the planet would soon be headed out to join the Fleet near the area of the highest concentration of Draconi ships. He couldn’t stop that. Especially since it was what he wanted.

Leda stood. She hoped she could get off the planet before Straker tracked her down. She hoped she could find the Onslaught in time to stop a war. She hoped they could defeat the Swarm. She hoped she’d get a chance to see Noah Hamilton again, and make amends for the damage she helped cause to his career. She hoped.

She stretched out on the bunk, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

***

Leda awoke from a troubled sleep to find that something wasn’t quite right.

The frigate she’d lied her way aboard had slowed; she could tell by the subtle vibration of the ship’s drive coming through the wall behind her bunk. She sat up. Had they reached their destination already? Not likely. She checked her wrist chronometer. They hadn’t been gone long enough.

Maybe they were waiting in line to use the Q-gate. With the entire fleet heading for the Artra system, it was possible, but still not likely.

Leda got to her feet, thankful she had slept in her uniform and boots. She started for the door, then decided to check the computer terminal set in the wall opposite her bunk. What she saw there chilled her blood.

General quarters had been sounded, and they had just docked with the Armitage.

“Straker,” said Leda. It had to be. The frigate wasn’t scheduled to meet up with any other ship until reaching Artra. What else could it be?

Leda thought fast. She was trapped. There was nowhere else she could go. She could steal a lifepod, but she’d be helpless. Straker could grab her anyway. Or just blast her lifepod to atoms.

The hatch to her quarters suddenly swung inward. Standing there were two fierce-looking marines in matte black riot polymer. Standing between them was Colonel Straker.

“Lt. Niles,” he said with a sneer. “I’m so glad we found you. Come with us, please.”

The marines entered the room, brandishing stun sticks.

Captain Phillips stepped up behind Straker. “Once again, I must apologize for all this. She had all the proper paperwork. And I must say, she doesn’t look like a terrorist.”

“They never do, Captain,” said the Colonel. “Special Ops appreciates your cooperation. If you’ll stand aside, we’ll have this problem off your ship in a few moments.”

“He’s conspiring against the Solar Navy and the League of Worlds,” Leda heard herself say. “I have proof!”

Oops. The moment the words came out of her mouth she regretted them.

Straker raised an eyebrow. “Yes. We know. You were trying to sneak way with classified documents of great importance to the war effort. Where are they?”

Leda scowled. Straker was shrewd. He wouldn’t have known about the data if she hadn’t said anything. The man could certainly think on his feet, but so could she.

“It’s over there,” she said, pointing. “In that case.”

Straker went to the wooden box that contained her katana. He opened it, smiling at the gleaming weapon inside. “How sentimental. The gift from your father. It is a beautiful weapon, elegant. But not what I came to see. Where is it? Oh, yes.”

Straker opened the tiny compartment that held the sword’s cleaning kit and fished around. Underneath was the drive on which she had stored the data that Hamilton had sent her.

“Put it in,” said Leda, motioning toward the computer terminal. “Let’s see what’s on it. I’m sure Captain Phillips would find it very interesting.”

It was Straker’s turned to scowl. He turned to Captain Phillips. “The Lieutenant here is completely delusional. She is a member of the so-called chaos cult the League purged a number of years ago. We thought we got them all, but apparently we were wrong.”

Phillips nodded, backing out of the doorway. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” she said. She continued to hang around, and Leda thought she could still get to her.

“You’re the traitor here, Colonel,” said Leda, backing into a corner. “When word gets out, you’re finished.”

“Take her,” ordered Straker.

The marine to Leda’s left made the first move, but she was ready. He brought the stun stick down fast and hard toward her right shoulder, but she grabbed his wrist, squeezing the nerves that made him loosen his grip on the weapon. Then she kicked him solidly in the left knee. There was a loud crack as he cried out in pain, crumpling to the deck as he dropped the stick.

Leda tried to catch it, but it tumbled out of her grip. The other marine was on her then, and he was even bigger than the first. He jammed the end of the stun stick into Leda’s side, sending a wave of pain and nausea through her. She felt dizzy and wobbled on her feet. She tried to grab at him to steady herself, but he pushed her way. She went to her knees and vomited. She felt pain lance through her once more as the marine connected the stun stick with the base of her skull. Then she knew only darkness.

Chapter 27

The Fleet

As they left the ready room, Lt. Brackett said, “Tightbeam back online.”

“That’s great news,” said Kuttner.

“That transponder did the trick,” said Brackett. “I’ve patched it in to our system, bypassing the damaged circuits. I don’t know how long it’ll hold, but for now we’ve got ears. And a voice.”

“Excellent work, Lieutenant,” said Hamilton. “Let’s tune into the Fleet’s common channel, see if we can figure out what’s going on out there.”

“Already on it, Commander. The Fleet is amassing in the Artra system. They believe a Draconi strike force is headed there.”

“That was a highly contested system during the last weeks of the war,” said Hamilton. “It makes sense.”

“Hudson,” said Kuttner. “Head for the Q-gate. We’re going to the Artra system.”

The ship moved quickly, and Kuttner was thankful that the engines still worked. The Onslaught was still a mess, but she’d get them where they needed to go. She always had.

“Nearing the Q-gate now,” said Hudson.

“Sending codes,” said Brackett.

The Q-gate’s opening shimmered, showing a grouping of stars that did not line up with the section of space they currently occupied.

“Take her through,” said Kuttner. “Gently.”

The Onslaught passed easily through the gate, as it had done a thousand times. In under a minute they were clear.

“Pulsar nav confirmed,” said Hudson after a full minute. “This is the Artra system.”

The Artra system consisted of a medium-size G-type star and eight planets, one of which was capable of supporting both human and Draconi life, yet had none of its own. There was also a wide asteroid belt full of nickel-iron, gold and platinum, and several sources of other vital elements such as deuterium and helium 3. It was a veritable treasure trove that the League of Worlds needed to hang onto at any cost.

“I’m picking up multiple ships,” said Hudson. “All Navy. Frigates, battle cruisers.”

“Comm traffic is heavy,” said Brackett, pressing buttons on her workstation.

“Have they noticed us yet?” asked Kuttner.

“Unknown,” said Brackett. We might not be close enough. The main group is clustered in orbit around the second planet, the inhabited one.”

“Mara,” said Hamilton, pulling the little world’s name from memory.

Kuttner turned to him.

“I’ve been there once,” he explained. “It’s nice.”

“Sir,” said Lt. Brackett. “I’m getting a news feed that’s been playing on repeat over the Q-net. I think you should see it.”

Kuttner scowled. “On screen.”

The viewer shimmered and was replaced by a square-jawed man with platinum-colored hair and eerie purple designer eyes. “—word is the fleet is grouping in the Artra system. I repeat. We are currently in a state of war. All of the fringe worlds are on high alert today after a missive went out over the tightbeam network stating that the recent colony world attacks were caused by some new form of Draconi weapon. All requests for a statement from Draconi high command have been unanswered.”

“Kill that feed,” said Kuttner. “I’ve heard enough.”

“Looks like the conspiracy’s propaganda machine has been busy,” said Hamilton. “Straker has stirred everyone into a frenzy.”

“But it isn’t true,” said Drizda. “Any of it. We have proof.”

“We’ve got to let them know that,” said Kuttner, pointing to the viewer, which at the moment showed empty space.

“Draconi war fleet approaching,” said Hudson. “Mostly Fang and Raptor class. Their weapons are primed and ready.”

“Status report,” said Kuttner. “What have we got?”

“A ship full of holes,” said Hamilton. “No defense field, minimal armament, a nuked rail gun, and a tightbeam network that could short out at the slightest nudge.”

“Gunner,” said Kuttner, ignoring him. “What offensive capabilities can you give me?”

“Just the particle cannons,” said Cade.

All right,” muttered Kuttner. “That’ll have to be enough.”

“What’s the plan, Captain?” asked Hamilton.

“We’re going to try one more time to stop this madness before it starts. Maybe we can call this war off and go home after all.

“And if we can’t?” asked Hamilton.

“Then we’ll go down shooting with our battle brothers. We’ll make our stand with the Fleet.”

Kuttner tugged at his uniform front and sat in the command chair.

Drizda, be ready to transmit everything we’ve got on the Swarm and what has happened up to now.”

“Yes, Captain,” said the alien.

“Brackett,” ordered Kuttner. “Find the lead ship. I want a word with her captain.”

“Yes, sir,” said Brackett.

“Hudson,” get us at close as you can to the fleet. We’re getting into the thick of this.”

“Sir,” said Hamilton. “Where do you think the Swarm is in all this?”

“If they’re the key to some vast plan of Straker’s, they’re probably headed right this way,” said Kuttner. “But this time, we’ll be ready for them.”

Hamilton stared at the viewer as it slowly filled with ships, bulky transports and sleek frigates. Vast battle cruisers and stealthy fighters, gray against the deep black of space. He wondered what could be done to stop all this. They had tried so many times. But most of all he worried about Leda. She would have contacted him by now if she had been able. Was she a part of the conspiracy with Straker, or was she in danger?

Chapter 28

War

The crew of the Onslaught was aware of the Dragon armada’s presence long before they could see them. The ship’s sensors could see the blots of infrared light they gave off, the Hawking radiation of their space drives. It picked up their alien comm chatter.

The rest of the Fleet too was bristling at their oncoming presence, raising defense fields, priming weapons.

Captain Kuttner paced the command deck, his hands clasped behind his back. Decades of war had prepared him for what was coming, but he didn’t relish it. He had hoped, in fact, to stop it before it started. But he couldn’t give up.

“Lt. Brackett,” he said, “Get me the ship in charge.”

“It appears to be the Armitage,” said the communications officer. “I’m raising them now.”

There was an answering chime that told Kuttner a channel was open.

“Armitage,” he said. “This is Captain Kuttner of the Onslaught. We have information vital to this campaign. We can’t go to war with the Draconi. Our real enemy is—”

There was a loud mechanical bleat, followed by silence.

“What happened”

“I don’t know, sir. “Something overrode our signal and killed it from this end.”

“It’s the transponder we jerry-rigged to the comm system,” said Hamilton. “That’s Straker over there. He has our device’s quantum entangled twin.”

“Sir,” said Brackett, “The Armitage is hailing us.”

“On viewer.”

The sneering visage of Colonel Straker appeared. Standing close next to him was a nervous-looking Leda Niles. She was pale, and looked as if she would rather be anywhere but where she was.

“Hello, Colonel,” said Hamilton.

“What the hell are you playing at?” said Kuttner. “You’re intentionally trying to start a war here.”

“A necessary war,” said the Colonel. “The Draconi empire must be extinguished.”

“My people will not fall so easily,” said Drizda. “Our two species are too evenly matched, and my people’s fervor—”

“Will get them nowhere,” Straker cut in, glancing at her. He looked disappointed at finding her on the command deck of the Onslaught. “There is a new weapon on the horizon.”

Hamilton glared at him. “The Swarm.”

“Exactly.”

“But it has been attacking both of us. How are you going to turn it against the Draconi?”

“You want to field that question, Lieutenant?” Straker asked, raising a gun and pointing it at the back of Leda’s head.

“They captured an older Swarm probe,” she said nervously. “It doesn’t work, but the Colonel figured out how to use it to communicate with them, turn them into a weapon that only strikes Draconi holdings in this quadrant.”

“The tide will be turned,” said Straker. “The war we should have won will be over, with us the rightful victors. But it isn’t just Draconi bases in this quadrant I’m interested in. I will strike at the heart of the lizards’ vast empire.”

“The homeworld!” said Drizda. “But you don’t know where it is.”

“I’ve made a few educated guesses. My new friends will do the rest. Speaking of which, it’s time to call them.”

With his gun hand, Straker tapped on a slate, and Hamilton heard the familiar, tones, like an eerie piping over a wide range.

“He’s sending out a wide range tightbeam,” said Brackett.

“Record it,” said Kuttner. “I want Drizda to figure out what he’s saying to them.”

“You’re too late to do anything about this,” said Straker. “This war is going to happen. You can fight it with the fleet or die like traitors. The choice is yours.”

“I will gladly fight a war if that is our only option,” said Kuttner. “But not a war started under false pretenses.”

Straker shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

The viewer went dark, the transmission killed at the source.

“Sir,” said Hudson. “The Draconi fleet has entered the system.”

Kuttner took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.

“Your orders, sir?” asked Hamilton.

Kuttner stared at him for a long moment before responding. “All hands, battle stations.”

Chapter 29

Enemies and Allies

Grand Leader Kark was lying across a sun rock in quiet repose, close to dozing, when her communicator chirped. She opened her eyes, thinking it a trick of her near-dreaming mind. When it chirped again, she slid her nictitating membranes open and raised herself up, reached for the communicator and flicked it on with a razor-sharp talon.

“Kark,” she said, irritated. Her ship, along with the rest of the fleet, was on its way to the Artra system to begin the annihilation of the human race, but there was no way they had arrived yet, and she had left implicit instructions that she not be disturbed until that time.

“Grand Leader,” said Straker. “I trust you are well.”

“What do you want, human?” she said. Kark was in no mood to be interrupted. She shifted herself on the heated rock and scratched at a fleck of skin that was starting to molt.

“I just wanted to let you know that your revenge is at hand. The Onslaught is within your reach.”

“What?”

“The ship that destroyed dozens of Draconi vessels during the war, and more recently destroyed a Draconi science vessel on a peaceful mission, has just joined our fleet.”

“There are a hundred such human vessels,” said Kark, her tongue flicking from her mouth. “All within my reach.”

“But none of them have the reputation among your kind like the Onslaught,” said Straker.

Kark pondered Straker’s words. If she could claim the Onslaught, and have Captain Kuttner’s head impaled upon a stick, she would be the pride of her people. The Mother Impress Herself would reward her and her crew greatly. She thought Straker was a spineless krzakssh for betraying his own people, but what was that to her? So far his communiques had been advantageous. And she’d gladly grind his bones between her teeth as well when the time was right.

“Send me the coordinates,” she said.

“Gladly,” said Straker.

Chapter 30

The Razor

The Draconi war fleet was still several million kilometers out when they started firing their weapons. Searing clouds of charged particles and titanium shells full of depleted uranium came at the human fleet, many of them missing their mark by hundreds of thousands of miles, others striking with deadly force.

Gunner Cade’s holographic tactical overlay was aflame with bright blossoms of energy spewing from struck ships, and cries for help came over the tightbeam like the calls of lost souls from old Earth myth.

The Solar Navy fleet struck back with equal ferocity, and several smaller Draconi warships disappeared in bright, brief dots of flame.

Kuttner sat in his command chair watching the carnage, wondering if there was still something he could do to stop it.

The Onslaught rocked violently, shuddered.

“What was that?” shouted Hamilton.

“We’ve been hit,” said Gunner Cade, checking his instruments. “Low power ion surge, minimal damage. It came from a Draconi ship that has detached from the main battle group and is heading straight for us.”

“That’s strange,” Hamilton murmured.

“Weapons charged,” said Cade, looking expectantly at Kuttner.

“Hold your fire, dammit! Brackett, get me another channel to the Fleet.”

The Onslaught was rocked again by another blast. The acrid tang of burnt wiring filled the air as something shorted out.

“The Draconi vessel is still closing,” said Hudson. “Raptor class. They must want us pretty badly.”

“Why are they singling us out?” said Hamilton. “We’re obviously damaged, damn near wounded. There are plenty more fresh and glorious targets out there for the Draconi to go after.”

“I don’t know,” said Kuttner, darkly. “When they board us you can ask.”

Warning klaxons blared, and red lights flashed from panels set in the low ceiling, painting the faces of the crew a lurid crimson. Captain Kuttner gritted his teeth. The Onslaught had been a grand ship in her day, but she couldn’t take much more of this. If the old girl could hold together just a little while longer…

“Evasive action,” said Kuttner. “I don’t want to fire on them unless we absolutely have to.”

“Working,” said Hudson. Slowly, the old ship began to respond, but it wasn’t quick enough.

“Brace for impact!” Gunner Cade warned, grabbing the edges of his workstation in a white-knuckled grip.

The ship slewed sideways as a shudder went through her. Kuttner felt the vibration move up through his boots to rattle his back teeth.

“Decks ten through fourteen report heavy damage,” said Brackett. “We’ve got multiple casualties, and hull breaches on decks eight, twelve, thirteen…”

“All right,” said Kuttner, cutting her off. “I get it. Open a channel to that ship. If we can’t change everyone else’s mind, maybe we can change theirs.”

“Channel open,” said Brackett. “They’re answering,” she added, a bit of surprise in her voice.

“Draconi vessel,” said Kuttner. “This is Captain Kuttner of the Onslaught.”

“I know who you are, mammal,” an alien voice hissed. The view screen rippled, replaced with an image of the interior of the Draconi ship. Sitting on a raised dais, hunched on the strange stools the dragons used to accommodate their lizard-like physiology, was their captain. “I am Grand Leader Kark of the Razor,” she said, her tongue darting from between her sharp white teeth. “Surrender yourself to me now, and I will make the deaths of your crew as quick and as painless as possible.”

“As wonderful as that sounds,” said Kuttner flippantly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check. Restarting this war is a big mistake. Both our peoples are under siege by a new and powerful enemy.”

“Don’t give me your lies, human,” said Kark. “You will only prolong your inevitable deaths.”

“Drizda,” said Kuttner. “Show them.”

Drizda stepped forward, slate in hand. “Grand Leader Kark, I am Drizda of the Science Council. I have evidence that both our kind and the humans have been attacked by a species of alien probes that can—”

“Enough!” Kark snapped. “It is bad enough to bear meaningless prattle from a human, but I refuse to hear anything this casteless kzosh has to say. Haven’t you brought enough disgrace on the house of your mother as it is?”

Drizda took a step back, stooping low. She looked at the deck beneath her feet. Then she glanced up at Hamilton, who nodded for her to keep going.

Drizda found her courage and stepped forward once more.

“Grand Leader, I may be without caste or rank, but I am right. These people saved my life, after destroying my host vessel in self-defense. Later they risked their lives to save one of our hatcheries from the alien probes. They have been nothing but honorable. I think it is you who dishonor your mother’s house.”

Kark uttered a prolonged hiss, bearing her fangs. “How dare you, impudent hatchling? Once I have gutted these mammals I will slit your miserable throat. I only wanted to do you the honor of looking your enemy in the eye before killing you, Kuttner.”

“What would your high command think of one of its captors conspiring with the enemy?” said Hamilton, stepping forward.

“What are you talking about, human?”

“Your single-minded attack on us, when there are plenty of bigger and deadlier targets,” said Hamilton. “Straker got to you, didn’t he? Told you to attack us and where you could find us.”

“More human lies! I will not listen to this.” The signal cut off abruptly.

“You definitely got to her,” said Kuttner. “She’s working with Straker all right.”

Hamilton nodded. “Makes sense. First he finds out we’re with the Fleet, and then next thing you know we’ve being singled out by an enemy ship.”

“It did not go well,” said Drizda. “Kark will not see reason.”

“You did your best,” said Kuttner. “I’m afraid we might have to fight after all.”

Hamilton sighed, straightening his uniform. “Defenses,” he said. “Status.”

“Deflectors up to full,” said Gunner Cade. “Though that isn’t saying much. Both ion guns charged and fully functioning. For now.”

“Fire,” ordered Kuttner and Hamilton, almost in unison.

Gunner Cade hunched over his virtual firing controls, trying to get a bead on the Draconi ship before firing off a volley of charged particle streams. A few long seconds later he said, “We got a hit, but just barely. They’re coming around again.”

“Brace for impact!” yelled Kuttner.

The Draconi vessel fired its forward ion cannons, the searing blue beams striking a forward section of the ship with a resounding metallic thud.

“Nearing this solar system’s asteroid belt,” said Hudson. “I think we can lose them in there.”

“Do it,” said Kuttner

Another blast of high energy particles zipped past them, barely missing them as they continued on into space. Kuttner gripped the arms of his chair tightly as Hudson guided the large ship into the field of rock and debris that stretched out between the system’s fourth and fifth planets. Still the Draconi vessel came after them.

“What’s it going to take to get out of this?” said Hamilton.

Kuttner looked at him and muttered, “A miracle.”

Chapter 31

The Shadow Council

Straker was a madman. It was the only thing that made any sense. He had gone stark raving insane and, even worse, he had convinced others to do his bidding. Leda was standing against the wall of the command deck, her hands fastened behind her back by a set of heavy magnetic manacles. Straker was wearing a glowing white command dress uniform, formal even for his rank. He was sitting in the Armitage’s command chair. Standing around him were three upper echelon members of Fleet Command, Admiral David Weber, Fleet Commander Wilson Tucker, and Colonel Tavis Moreland, each resplendent in their uniforms. Leda couldn’t tell for certain, but she was sure that these were the men Straker had met with virtually back at headquarters. The woman they had been conversing with in that meeting was not in attendance, but Leda had a feeling she knew who it was. In the corner opposite where Leda stood prisoner, was the familiar probe that had been discovered all those years ago. It was plugged into a makeshift power conduit, and issued a faint hum. Leda even thought she could hear something inside it moving faintly.

“I have to admit, I had my doubts at first, but you really pulled it off, Straker,” said Admiral Weber.

“Thank you, sir,” said Straker. “I told you your faith in me—in our cause—was not misguided.”

“It wasn’t our faith in you, but faith in the coming Chaos Wave,” said Moreland.

“Their vengeance is coming,” Tucker intoned.

“And that right soon,” the others answered in unison.

“Their existence is undeniable,” said Straker. “The Swarm’s presence proves it. The Progenitor epics speak of harbingers that will bring the coming chaos behind it like a wave. We are merely clearing the board for the final round.”

“I’m surrounded by lunatics,” Leda muttered. Straker turned his head slightly at the sound.

“What about her?” said Moreland. “You said there wouldn’t be any loose ends.”

“There are no loose ends,” said Straker. “What’s she going to do this late in the game?”

The others turned to look at her then, and Leda shrank from their gaze. Their attentions were unnerving in the extreme.

“She’ll never work for us,” said Admiral Weber.

“True,” said Moreland.

“If you’re going to kill me,” said Leda. “Just do it and get it over with.”

Commander Tucker grinned. “I think I have a better idea. Gentlemen, let’s introduce her to the Chaos Wave.”

“What are you talking about?” said Leda.

Straker rose and turned toward her. “Do you think it will show her? I doubt she is of the blood.”

Weber shrugged. “What of it? If not, we can go ahead and kill her. But if she can see, she gets a glimpse of man’s doom before she dies.”

Straker’s mouth stretched in a wide grin. “Yes. I dare say she’s earned that much.” He looked at a guard standing near his seat. “Bring her closer to the probe.

As if in response, the damaged probe began to sing a discordant note. Straker looked at the others and smiled.

“What are you doing?” said Leda, pulling against the guard as he dragged her toward the damaged alien machine.

“It wants to show you something,” said Straker.

“What?” said Leda.

Straker leered at her. “The future.”

Chapter 32

Cat and Mouse

The Onslaught limped its way into the Artra system’s asteroid belt, and the Razor dogged them every kilometer of the way.

The belt made a million-mile lap around the fifth and sixth planets, both of which were lifeless gas giants no one had bothered to name other than by giving them a long string of numbers. It was more densely packed than most asteroid fields, which gave Kuttner some confidence that they could outmaneuver the Draconi warship and gain the upper hand. They had to rely on subterfuge now; the ship wouldn’t survive another direct assault.

“Keep as many of these space rocks between us and them as you can,” said Kuttner.

“Aye, sir,” said the navigator.

“What is the Razor’s position in relation to us?” asked Hamilton.

The navigator checked his instruments. “Hard to tell with the magnetic interference from all this rock, but it looks like they’re directly above us. Twenty degrees above the plane of the ecliptic.”

Kuttner looked at Hamilton knowingly. “You’ve got a plan.”

Hamilton nodded. “If you’ll permit me, Captain?”

Kuttner motioned with his hand. “Be my guest. The command deck is yours.”

“Hudson,” said Hamilton. “Plot an intercept course. On my signal, give full power to the engines.”

The view screen wavered, and a tactical wireframe appeared, displaying computer interpretations of both ships in relation to each other and the surrounding asteroids.

“You want to ram them,” said Kuttner. It wasn’t a question.

“I want them to think I’m going to ram them.”

Hamilton waited a moment for the Draconi warship to move just a little closer. Another thousand kilometers, and they would probably detect the Onslaught’s engine output and take evasive action.

“Now, Lt. Hudson.”

They could feel the old ship start to increase speed. The wireframe disappeared, showing instead a tiny black speck against the blackness of space, a blue dot on one end indicating the Razor’s powerful ion engine. From this distance it looked no more dangerous than an ember sparking from a campfire. It grew larger in the viewer as the Onslaught sped towards it.

“They see us,” said Hudson. “Looks like they’re taking evasive action.”

“Brackett, open a channel,” ordered Hamilton.

“Channel open.”

“Grand Leader Kark,” he said. “This is Commander Hamilton. We’re going to send you our data logs from the last few days. I suggest you take a look at them or prepare to be rammed.”

He glanced at Drizda, who tapped her slate, sending everything they had recorded about their encounters with the Swarm over the tightbeam link.

“She’ll want time to review it,” said Drizda.

“She has…Hudson?”

“Seven minutes.”

Hamilton glanced at Drizda. “There. See? Plenty of time.”

The Razor couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, and its commanding officer knew that.

The Razor fired, not at the Onslaught, but at a nearby asteroid. The large rock fractured, sending large chunks of debris directly into the path of the Onslaught.

“Evasive—” Hamilton said, but it was too late. Huge chunks of asteroid punched through the hull of the ship at random intervals. A workstation shorted out, and Brackett received reports of crew members being sucked out into space.

Kark’s voice hissed over their comm, the channel still being open. “Your proof does not matter. Straker is a mere human, but he is correct. This war needs to happen for the honor of our race. We will extinguish mankind’s light from the stars, and return to our rightful place as masters of the cosmos.”

“She’s as crazy as Straker,” said Kuttner.

Hamilton nodded. “Gunner Cade. Give them everything we’ve got.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

The Onslaught, damaged though she was, fired its ion cannons at the Razor, scoring a few hits.

“We shorted out its deflector field, sir,” said Cade.

Hamilton nodded. Warning klaxons went off, and Kuttner orders them silenced

“Do you surrender now, Captain?” Kark asked over the tightbeam.

Kuttner glanced at Hamilton. Before he could answer, the Razor was fired upon, knocking it off course. It veered around and, with a burst of its engines, headed back toward the main body of the Draconi fleet.

“Hudson,” shouted Hamilton. “Who fired on them?”

“That was the Heinlein, sir,” said the navigator.

“That’s Admiral Sheldon’s ship,” said Kuttner. “Open a channel.”

The viewer shimmered and Admiral Sheldon appeared on the gleaming deck of a Warrior class battle cruiser. “Hello, gentlemen,” she said. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Could we ever,” said Kuttner.

Sheldon’s smile faded, and she took on a serious, remorseful tone. “I’m sorry for all this. I was in on Straker’s scheme. I thought he wanted to build our military back up by starting another war with the Dragons. I had no idea it went this far, and I am sorry. When all this is over, I will hand myself over to the authorities. An extra lifetime isn’t worth this much guilt.”

“Thanks, Alice,” said Kuttner. “You always were a class act. Now let’s go get that lying bastard.”

The two ships changed course and, following the Heinlein’s lead, started out of the asteroid field.

“Sir,” said Hudson. “Detecting multiple bogeys. It’s the Swarm.”

“Where?” said Kuttner.

“Right on top of us. They’re attacking the Heinlein.”

“Alice,” said Kuttner. “Get the hell out of here.”

“No can do, Captain,” she said. “They haven’t noticed you yet. Go find Straker.”

“But you don’t stand a chance—”

“That’s an order, Captain,” she said. “Sheldon out.”

“All power to the engines,” said Kuttner. “Gunner Cade, cover our exit from the asteroid field. Shoot any of those things that get too close. Hudson, plot a course of the main body of the Fleet.”

They sped away, the gleaming length of the Heinlein directly above them. Already they could see holes appear in the ship’s hull as the Swarm probes did their deadly work. Kuttner saluted as they moved away.

“Damn it,” he swore. “I wanted to strangle her when she was a part of this. But now…” his voice trailed off.

“I know, sir,” said Hamilton. “It isn’t always easy to know who the enemy is.” He glanced at Drizda as he said it.

“I’m just tired,” said Kuttner. “Damned tired. I miss the good old days when we knew who to shoot at.”

“Sir,” said Hamilton carefully. “Were you going to surrender back there?”

Kuttner looked at him, his face betraying nothing. “Let’s go get this finished.”

Chapter 33

Makers

Leda was forced to her knees next to the Swarm probe. She could hear the faint hum it emitted, could feel the warmth coming from its interior workings. The panel where the power coupling was connected glowed with its own inner light.

“Touch it,” said Straker. “It’s alive.”

The Marine unfastened one of her manacles, the heavy fetters hanging from her left wrist as she touched the Swarm probe. For a long moment nothing happened. Then she felt an electric jolt and was suddenly somewhere else.

Spinning, endlessly spinning. How long had they been moving through the void? How long had they toiled? It didn’t matter. Only the Errand mattered. That, and the Warning, issued to all who were advanced enough to hear it. The Ix were coming, even now.

Leda squeezed her eyes shut, reeling from the thoughts and sensations that bombarded her. She was beginning to understand what was happening. The probe was communicating with her somehow. She quieted her mind and let it back in.

It was cold and dark. The only light came from tiny pinpricks, stars burning faintly in the distance. She felt weightless, turning slowly over and over, but she wasn’t dizzy. Her eyes were not her eyes. She saw everything in shades of pulsing greens and blues, vivid reds, and fuzzy vibrations. This was not the visible spectrum she usually saw with her human eyes. No, this was how the probe saw. The usual mosaic of stars, planets, interstellar gas and dust came to her on a canvas of infrared, X-rays, Gamma rays, and even radio. For what good were human eyes in the dark between the stars?

Particles assailed her, passed through her. She rolled again, and the scene shifted. Below her, below the ecliptic plane, she saw a blue-green world pulsing with vibrant life. Not Earth, no, the landmasses were different shapes, and most of them seemed to be covered by the dull gray of cities that pulsed brightly in infrared.

Home, the probe sent, more of a distinct feeling than a word, and Leda’s own heart ached for her distant world of Proxima.

Leda also had a sense of deep time passing, and that this beautiful green marble was long gone, maybe even long dead. The probe was sifting through its memories to show her this place; it must be important. She knew she must watch. And listen.

The planet loomed closer. Down through its atmosphere they went, tasting oxygen and nitrogen with just a faint tang of ammonia as she descended. She felt gravity pulling on her now, forcing her down, down, down.

Now the visible light spectrum kicked in, and she saw an ancient panorama of deep browns and brilliant golds. Gleaming cities bristling with towers, every inch covered in photovoltaic cells. All around them were more machines. Machines that flew, machines that crawled, machines that run up the sides of buildings on numerous gecko feet, seeing to some errand Leda could scarcely imagine. And amid these, were groups of tall, bulbous brown beings, like lumps of clay. Enormous black eyes centered in doughy faces. Their hands multi-fingered and precise as they worked complex mechanisms. They sang to each other, their voices filling the ammonia-tinged air like whale song.

Progenitors? Leda thought.

No, sent the probe. Makers.

Leda understood as the scene shifted. These beings made things, masses of them. They seemed to love to tinker, to experiment. They made machines that seemed to have no other purpose but to make other, tinier machines. They made machines as big as capital ships and as small as single atoms. They made biological machines. They created new life.

Leda had many more questions, but she felt herself being yanked away, as if on a string. She was floating up, up, back through the atmosphere of this distant planet, until she could see it in its entirety once more. Then something happened. The cities went dim, then dark, then crumbled, the rivers and oceans dried up, and it was as if a shadow had passed over this beautiful world, a planetary or solar eclipse. When it passed, even the atmosphere was gone, leaving a dead, barren husk.

When? Leda thought.

In her mind’s eye she saw stars die and planets leave their orbits. She saw distant suns trading places, and she knew this event had happened a very long time ago. She felt like an infant in a hurricane.

The Chaos Wave.

Yes, sent the probe.

It’s coming back.

Yes.

Leda was filled with despair. How could they hope to stop something like that? It felt too large to wrap her mind around.

Hope, sent the probe.

She saw more stars now, a wheeling configuration of seven stars, one of which pulsed brightly, that she somehow felt was significant. She latched her awareness onto it and wouldn’t let go. She had to remember it. She had to.

The constellation fell away into the distance, becoming nothing more than pinpricks in velvet as the Swarm pulled away.

Wait.

They kept moving away, faster and faster. Entire solar systems flew past, nebulae, interstellar dust clouds.

Wait!

She slowed. She thought, what does it mean?

Hope, the probe sent again.

In that place you showed me, she thought.

Yes.

What will we find there?

Light of Ages

Leda felt wonder fill her being.

So the ancient Progenitor legend was true?

Yes, the probe sent again.

Are the Makers and the Progenitors the same?

No, the probe sent. Progenitors are the children of the Makers.

Another electric jolt and—

Leda was back inside herself, holding her hand where the skin of the probe had shocked her. A few things made more sense now, but there were still more questions. What is the Light of Ages? Could it help combat the Chaos Wave? And what is the Chaos Wave?

Leda rubbed her hand on the leg of her uniform. It was freezing cold, even though the command deck was a comfortable temperature. She shivered.

“Now you see the glorious reckoning that awaits mankind,” said Straker.

“Yes,” she said. I see what’s coming.” And she knew what she had to do.

Chapter 34

Goodbye

The Onslaught limped out of the asteroid field, escorted by the Heinlein. “I’m not sure how much more help I can be,” Admiral Sheldon tightbeamed.

“You’ve done great, Alice,” said Kuttner. “Thanks. I’ll transmit to you everything we’ve been through with the Swarm up to now. They’ll listen to an Admiral.”

“Not when they realize what I’ve done,” she said sadly. “I’m really sorry, Hank.”

“Just make it right, Alice,” said Kuttner. “You and me are already square again.”

After sending the data, Kuttner ordered Brackett to send it again to the entire fleet over the common circuit. “No way Straker blocks us now,” he said.

“Sir,” said Cade. “We’ve got multiple incomings. They match the energy signature of the Swarm.”

Kuttner sighed. “Guess who’s coming to dinner.”

“All these ships are like an endless buffet,” said Hamilton.

“Hopefully they’ll be too divided to do a lot of damage to one target,” said Kuttner. “That should buy us some time.”

“They’re all headed this way,” said Hudson. “They’re converging on the Heinlein.”

Drizda said, “They’re being controlled. Someone is communicating with them. I’m detecting a tightbeam signal being broadcast to them. I can’t put them back to sleep. They’re not listening to the frequency I’m sending.”

“Straker,” said Kuttner. “Admiral Sheldon,” he said over tightbeam. “The Swarm are headed right for you. Straker sent them. We can’t stop them this time.”

“We’ll give them one hell of a fight,” she said. “I want you to get out of here.”

“We’ll stay and help.”

“That’s an order, Captain. Get your ship the hell out of here.”

Kuttner took a deep breath. “Alice, let me—”

“Nonsense, Captain. The real enemy here is Straker. He’s the one pushing the Swarm’s buttons now.”

“Roger that,” said Kuttner. “It’s been an honor, Admiral.”

“I’m not dead yet, Captain. Belay the sentiment and get going!”

The channel closed. Kuttner watched helplessly as the Swarm probes converged on the Heinlein, almost completely covering its gleaming hull as they tore into it. He was tired of watching as these things devoured everything in their path, but at least now he knew what to do about it. “Hudson, think you can find the Armitage in all this chaos?”

“I never lost sight of her, Captain,” said the navigator.

“Good. Plot a course to intercept and get going, maximum speed.”

Straker has his hands on the ultimate weapon,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner nodded. “Let’s go pry it away from him, shall we?”

At then thousand kilometers out they saw it, skirting the edge of the Artra system, where the battle between the human and Draconi fleets was still going strong.

“Gunner Cade,” said Kuttner. “Be ready to fire on the Armitage as soon as we’re in range.”

“The Armitage is a formidable vessel,” advised Hamilton. “Heavy armor, powerful weapons.”

“I know what we’re up against, Commander,” muttered Kuttner. “But I’m sick and tired of being pushed around, aren’t you?”

Hamilton looked grimly at the view screen. He knew full well what the Colonel’s flagship was capable of. “Brackett, erase our transponder ID and push out as much tachyon static as you can. Maybe that will buy us some time.”

“Smart thinking,” said Kuttner. “Helm, increase speed.”

“I don’t think they’ve noticed us yet,” said Hudson. “They’re maintaining course.”

“Their weapons are offline,” added Cade.

“Cocky bastard, isn’t he?” said Kuttner.

“You don’t know the half of it, sir,” said Hamilton. “But at this point we could use every advantage we can find.”

Kuttner said, “Increase speed.”

“We’re in weapons range,” said Cade.

“Then fire!”

The ship’s ion cannons blasted the Armitage with a deadly stream of charged particles, which struck the vessel amidships.

“They’re coming about,” said Hudson.

“Keep firing,” said Kuttner. “Don’t give them a chance to breathe.”

“Sir,” said Hamilton. “Lt. Niles is aboard that ship.”

Kuttner looked at his second in command. “I know, son. And I’m sorry. But we’ve got to shut Straker down to stop the Swarm.”

Hamilton nodded. “I know. It’s just—.”

Kuttner placed a hand on his left shoulder. “It’s not just good guys and bad guys. Things start exploding, everyone gets hurt.”

Hamilton looked down at the floor.

“She’s sustained heavy damage,” said Hudson, but she’s coming about.”

“Our deflectors are gone, Captain,” said Cade.

“I know, Gunner. Just keep firing.”

Gunner Cade held down the firing controls, sending a continuous particle stream into the Armitage, overwhelming its deflectors and striking one of the capacitors that powered them, obliterating it. He kept up the barrage, carving a dark jagged line across the gleaming hull of the larger, more powerful ship.

“They’re firing back,” said Cade, gripping the edges of his weapons console.

“All hands, brace for impact,” Kuttner warned.

The whole ship shook as a volley of depleted uranium shells struck home, smashing through the already fragile Onslaught’s hull like tinfoil. Warning klaxons went off, and Kuttner ordered them silenced. A panel shorted out somewhere behind them, filling the air with the tang of ozone and burnt wiring.

Cade re-aimed his ion cannons and fired, searing the Armitage as it fully came around to face them. “The guns won’t hold out much longer.”

“Give them everything we’ve got,” said Kuttner.

With the rail gun down permanently, the ion cannons were the only weapons they had at their disposal. Cade made good use of them, activating an automatic firing sequence he’d developed to cause the guns to move independently of the targeting system, allowing them to fire on different areas of the Armitage, exploiting weak points until one of the guns overheated and powered down. A well-placed shell from the Armitage destroyed the other one, causing the ship to shudder and jerk once more as it was struck. From all over the ship they could hear muffled explosions, the smell of distant smoke filling the air.

The Armitage was worse for wear too, portions of its hull melted and warped, huge holes in its skin open to vacuum. But it had something the Onslaught didn’t have—ammo. It hurled volley after volley of depleted uranium shells at them, many of them missing by a wide margin, others striking crucial areas of the ship.

“I think we got their targeting system,” said Cade. They’re shooting blind.”

“They’re still shooting, Lieutenant,” said Hamilton morosely.

“We’ve still got one thing left,” said Kuttner.

“What is that?” asked Hamilton.

“The Onslaught itself.”

“Sir?”

Kuttner stood and pointed at the Armitage in the viewer. “Mr. Hudson, ramming speed.”

Hudson turned and glared at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” said Kuttner. “The Swarm is being controlled from that ship. We’ve got to stop Straker at any cost.”

“Yes sir,” said Hudson and made the course adjustments. The ship lurched as it picked up speed, its tired engines coerced into one last push of speed and energy.

“But what about Led—Lt. Niles?” said Hamilton.

“She’ll have to fend for herself,” said Kuttner, his eyes never leaving the viewer.

Hamilton regarded the old man. He was right, of course. Still, he wished there was another way.

“Don’t look so glum,” said Kuttner, straightening his uniform. “You’re all getting off this ship.” He slapped a button on his chair, opening the ship’s common circuit. “All hands, this is Captain Kuttner. Abandon ship. I repeat, abandon ship.”

He palmed the circuit closed. “Now, I want you to take Drizda and the rest of the command crew and get out of here. Drizda will still need to figure out a way to stop the Swarm.”

“Sir,” said Hudson. “What about you?”

“I’m staying.”

The rest of the crew stared at their commanding officer in disbelief.

“Without anyone to pilot the ship, it could get off course and miss its target. And once upon a time I used to be one hell of a pilot.”

“Do you realize what you’re doing?” said Hamilton.

“Yeah, kid. I know. But it’s time for this captain to go down with his ship. Besides, I was never cut out for retirement anyway.” He winked. “Can you see me sitting on a quiet beach somewhere, getting sunburn?”

“It doesn’t suit you, no,” said Hamilton.

Kuttner turned to the navigator. “Hudson,” he snapped. “Pour on the speed. I want to shove our rail gun right up Straker’s ass.”

“It’s been an honor, sir,” said Hamilton.

“Same here, son. You’re one helluva leader.”

“You have shown more honor than an entire clutch of our fiercest Draconi warriors,” said Drizda. “My people will write war hymns about you.”

Kuttner dismissed this flattery with a wave of his hand. “One more thing before you go.” He reached into a small storage unit attached to the side of his command chair and pulled out a bottle full of amber liquid. The ship shook again as another depleted uranium shell struck, and he almost dropped it.

“Scotch,” he said. “A hundred years old. Spun up from Earth’s gravity well at considerable expense, I might add. Hell, it’s considered contraband on seven planets. Promise me when this nonsense is over that you’ll be the one to finally open and enjoy it.”

Hamilton took the bottle and nodded.

“Now all of you, get the hell off my ship. That’s an order.”

They left the command deck, Hamilton and Drizda leading the way. “What are we going to do now?” said Drizda. “Float in space in a lifepod with battling warships and Swarm probes all around us?”

“We need another ship, Commander,” added Brackett.

Hamilton nodded. “You are absolutely right. And I know just the one. Lieutenant, did you keep our souvenir?”

Brackett hefted the small tightbeam encoder that Dutton had used, and had until moments earlier been tied into their communications net. “Sure did.”

“Perfect. Let’s make a call.”

Chapter 35

Kuttner’s Last Stand

Captain Henry Kuttner sat at the navigation controls of the now empty vessel. He hadn’t personally piloted a vessel in going on forty years, and that one had been a whole lot smaller than the Onslaught. It was a strange feeling. Different and yet very familiar. Like coming full circle.

The Armitage grew larger and larger in the viewer as he hurtled the Onslaught toward it, bearing numerous impacts from the larger ship’s weapons. A panel near him shorted out, exploding in a blast of heat and light. He ignored it. He felt something warm and moist on his forehead and swiped at it, thinking it was sweat. It was blood. Some bit of debris had cut him. It didn’t matter. Taking out Straker did.

The Armitage was clearly trying to get out of the way, but it had suffered heavy damage. The once proud vessel had been reduced to a limping brute. Kuttner wondered if Straker was trying to contact the Onslaught. Without the tightbeam encoder, the ship’s communications were inoperable. But he liked to think Straker was trying to contact him. Kuttner wanted him to know what was coming and that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

The Armitage kept up its assault. Most of the shells went wild, but a few struck home in strategic places, detonating in critical sections of the ship. Kuttner gave full power to the engines. If he was going to be dead in minutes anyway, he planned on taking Straker with him. The dying Onslaught shuddered and rocked with each impact, warning messages from the ship’s computer going unheeded. A section of metal fell from the ceiling, falling atop Kuttner’s command chair behind him. If he had been sitting there it would have killed him.

Kuttner chuckled at the irony and winced as the panel next to him shorted out. The whole ship was shaking now, and he imagined bolts and rivets shaking loose all over the once proud vessel.

The Armitage loomed closer. It had managed to alter its position, attempting to dive beneath the Onslaught’s fatal trajectory. In this position the Onslaught would still impact it near the engine core. Kuttner grinned as he poured on the speed, gripping the edges of the navigation console tightly as the old ship finally threatened to tear itself apart.

“Just a little further, old girl. For glory’s sake.” He muttered. “Once more into the breach. Or some shit like that.”

Captain Henry “Hank” Kuttner was laughing at his little joke when the Onslaught struck the Armitage, the leading section of his ship’s forward rail gun impaling the slightly larger vessel just forward of the engine core. There was a shuddering concussion and a flash of white light as the ruined vessel fell apart around him. Then he knew only oblivion.

Chapter 35

Trapped

Leda stepped away from the terminal. It was hard to work the controls with her wrists fastened together, but she got it done. She stared at the silent army of metal Ix warriors, which were now starting to awaken. Their eyes burned an eerie blue, with a matching blue coming from their chests. She had to get out of there. But how?

She shrank away from them, getting as close to the far wall as she could. Any moment they would become aware enough to sense her presence. Then she’d be finished. The first casualty in a new kind of war. She scanned the ceiling, spotting an access panel between her and the Ix. If she could get up there, she’d have unimpeded access to most of the ship. She could steal a shuttle and get out of there. But it was too high.

She stared at the Ix. One in particular caught her attention. Standing at the end of the front row, its right arm ended in a wicked looking scythe.

All of the Ix still hadn’t come online yet, and those that seemed to be were not yet aware of her presence. Leda ran over to the scythe-armed Ix and slid the center of the manacle chains quickly down the blade. Just as she’d hoped, the magnetic connection was severed, and the manacles clattered to the floor.

One problem solved, but she still had one more, and it was a big one: how to reach the access panel. She carefully studied the scythe-armed Ix’s companion, a solid-looking robot holding a long, gleaming rifle at parade rest. She looked it over, wondering how it worked. The Ix were vaguely humanoid. Their knees bent backwards, giving them legs like the Draconi, but their upper torsos resembled human anatomy. They all seemed to have five fingers on each hand, and their weapons were designed for use with a being matching that physiology. Still, it was a gamble.

She watched as a another row of the alien killing machines hummed to life. That made her decision for her. She had no more time for study; it was now time to act.

Leda gripped the Ix weapon in both hands, wrenching it from the thing’s grasp. It was surprisingly light; whatever it was made from was better than any alloy mankind could produce. Flipping it around, she wedged the scalloped stock against her shoulder, took quick aim, and squeezed the trigger. The weapon glowed blue and hummed, and a powerful stream of bluish energy pulsed from the gun’s tip. It struck its former owner, and there was a shower of sparks as the Ix’s torso turned to super-heated slag before what was left of it fell to the ground.

Leda shot too more in quick succession, dragging them out of line by their feet and stacking them haphazardly beneath the access panel. This had to be the craziest idea she had ever come up with, but there was no backing out now.

As each Ix came fully awake and took aim at her, she fired, blasting it to pieces. It was like shooting ducks in a barrel. She had five or six in a pile before they got the upper hand.

The next one she fired upon was ready. A shimmering blue field of energy crackled over it seconds before the particle stream from her gun could strike, the beam dispersing harmlessly into the field. Emboldened, the Ix marched toward her as one body now, weapons and blades raised and ready. They studied her for a long moment before revealing another surprise, their legs shifting around so that their knees bent like hers, which had the added menace of making them almost a foot taller.

Leda shouted as she fired at them again, the blasts hitting their energy fields. Leda had never seen a weapon more powerful than the one she now held in her hands. If the Ix’s own weapons couldn’t defeat them, then Navy weapons didn’t stand a chance.

Leda wondered why they didn’t just fire on her and end it. They still seemed to be studying her. They almost had a half-distracted look, like they were seeing her but their minds were really somewhere else, like when someone spoke to her through her cochlear implant.

This, she knew, was her chance to get out of there. She looked at the pile of Ix bodies she had created. She raised the gun and fired at the panel. It disappeared instantly under the blue beam. Then she leapt onto the bodies of the Ix, tossed the weapon up through the hole, and went up the hole after it.

She almost made it up and into the access space, when a cold metal hand wrapped itself around her right ankle. She kicked at it with her left, screaming as the extra weight threatened to pull her down. Another grunt and she was up and through, grabbing the Ix weapon and moving as far away from the hatchway as she could. A metal head jutted up into the space, and she kicked it hard three times before it disappeared. Leda waited, covering the hole with the Ix rifle. No other attempts were made to come after her, but she heard the sound of more of their weapons fire, as the place filled with the smell of ozone. Leda looked through the opening in the ceiling to see the Ix charging at the door, now turned to slag. They killed the guard, and were now making their way through the ship.

Leda was pondering her next move when the whole ship suddenly shook violently. She heard the sound of distant warning klaxons, and the air filled with smoke and the tang of burnt wiring. The concussion knocked her head-first out of the hole, still gripping her rifle. She fell down into darkness.

Chapter 36

Out of the Frying Pan

Commander Hamilton, Drizda, and the Onslaught’s command crew had stuffed themselves into a shuttle that was now headed for open space. “Brackett, can you get the Razor?”

“I can try, Commander. “The shuttle’s tightbeam relay isn’t as powerful as the Onslaught’s but this little black box gizmo should boost the signal.”

Hamilton was confident it would work. The encoder held the Draconi ship’s quantum frequency from when they had conversed aboard the Onslaught. It was just a matter of finding her. The ship could be too far out of range, or destroyed, or—

“This is Grand Leader Kark of the Razor. Identify yourself.”

“This is Commander Hamilton, formerly of the Onslaught. Me and my crew are that ship’s only survivors. We are formally surrendering ourselves to you. If you still want us, come and get us.”

Silence for a long moment, then, “Send me your coordinates.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Gunner Cade.

Hamilton shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was the largest shuttle the Onslaught had on board, but Hamilton, Hudson, Bracket, and Drizda were still crammed in elbow to elbow. “It’ll have to be. The Razor is the closest ship in range.”

“But we’ll be their prisoners.”

“It’ll be all right, Lieutenant. I have a plan.”

Hamilton glanced at Drizda before adding, “Sort of.”

The Onslaught’s remaining crew didn’t have to wait long for their questionable rescue. After about thirty standard minutes the Razor loomed large in the shuttle’s viewport, looking more intimidating than ever. Hudson cocked his head to the left, listening to his cochlear implant. “We’re getting docking orders from the Razor,” he said, nervously.

“It’s all right, Lieutenant,” said Hamilton. “Do as they say.”

“Leave your weapons,” ordered Hamilton. “If interrogated, give name, rank and serial number only. Let me and Drizda do all the talking.”

“Sir,” said Cade. “The Draconi eat their enemies.” He glanced self-consciously at Drizda as he said it.

“Don’t worry, Gunner,” said Hamilton. “They won’t do that right away. They’ll want to cook us first.”

Lt. Brackett groaned. Hamilton looked down at the floor and sighed. He did not have the old man’s flair for gallows humor. He missed Kuttner already.

“Look. I know you’re apprehensive. But I wouldn’t have suggested this route if I didn’t it had a good chance to succeed. Our people are out there fighting a war based on false pretenses. Both sides are fighting and dying while the real enemy is still among us. We are going to do the best we can to stop that war and defeat that enemy. Our ship is gone. Our captain is gone. But we are still soldiers.”

The others nodded, mumbling in the affirmative.

“I will do all I can to protect you,” said Drizda. “You have all shown me great honor these past few weeks.”

Hudson navigated the shuttle up and around the big ship toward an opening that had formed in the vessel’s rear. Navigation beacons switched on, the magnetic beams guiding the shuttle in as Hudson slowly decreased their speed. In another few minutes they were inside.

The ship’s interior was much brighter than Hamilton had expected.

“Atmospheric pressure normalized,” said Hudson, checking the shuttle’s instruments.

“Open her up,” ordered Hamilton.

The shuttle’s main hatch opened outward, forming a ramp. Awaiting them outside was a squad of six Draconi warriors, mostly male, wearing crimson uniforms and brandishing lethal-looking pulse rifles.

Hamilton let Drizda step out first. “We request an audience with Grand Leader Kark immediately,” she said.

“You’re in no position to request anything, casteless one,” growled the squad’s leader. He was a big, imposing dragon with a wide white scar on his snout just below his left eye.

Hamilton stepped out next. “We humbly request to speak with your captain according to Article 8 Subsection B of our treaty.”

The squad all clicked their teeth together. “This war makes your precious treaty null and void, mammal,” said their leader.

“What is your name?” asked Hamilton.

“I am Grand Leader Kark’s second in command, Sub Leader Zarn.”

“Sub Leader Zarn,” said Drizda. “We have information vital to this campaign. I must deliver it to Grand Leader Kark immediately.

“The Leader is in no mood for more of your lies, casteless one.”

“These aren’t lies,” said Hamilton. “Let Kark make that decision for herself.”

Zarn looked at Hamilton, and he got the feeling he knew what it was like for the first proto-mammal to be scarfed down by a T-Rex. “Fine,” said Zarn. “We will escort you to the bridge. Fetter the mammals!”

Drizda started to protest, but Hamilton put a hand on her shoulder. He and the others let themselves be placed in heavy magnetic manacles and marched up to the bridge. Drizda he did not chain, but shoved along in front of him as they walked.

“The prisoners request an audience with you, my Leeader” bellowed Kark as he pushed Drizda through the hatch of the Razor’s command deck.

Hamilton moved through the opening after Kark, his face covered in sweat. It was hot on board the Draconi ship, and humid.

Kark looked them over slowly, one by one, a predator sizing up her prey. “Where is Captain Kuttner?”

“He died attacking the real threat,” said Hamilton. “Colonel Straker.”

Kark’s eyes flickered as her nictitating membranes slid quickly back and forth over her eyes. A nervous tell? The Draconi were still difficult to read, but thanks to his contact with Drizda, Hamilton was getting better at it.

“He tells the truth, my Leader,” said one of the crew. “Two Navy ships have just impacted. The smaller vessel was almost completely destroyed.”

“So the Navy attack each other now,” said Kark, clicking her teeth in amusement. “It will make our victory that much easier.”

“But you’re still ignoring the real threat,” said Hamilton. “The Swarm probes. Straker means to use them against you.”

“More lies!”

Drizda stepped toward her, causing Zarn to move in between them. Drizda ignored him, looking over his shoulder at the Razor’s captain. “He tells the truth. We sent you everything you need to see these are not lies. Why will you not examine them?”

“How dare you question our Leader, casteless zhakt!” growled Zarn.

Drizda flashed her teeth at him, a clear sign of aggression.

“Maybe because she was working with Straker,” said Hamilton.

“Work with a human?” said Kark. “Never!”

“Then explain to your crew how you were able to find and attack the Onslaught. You had our precise coordinates, yes? Who gave them to you?”

The other members of her crew looked at her warily now. Zarn turned toward her. “You did seem to know exactly where the Onslaught was, in all this chaos.”

“You dare question me, my Second? I will rip out your throat with my teeth.”

“You were working with Straker,” said Drizda. “Conspiring against your own people.”

“What of you, casteless one? You have been helping them this entire time. I know who you are. Your theories are sacrilege. That is why you are without family or title or—”

“They could have killed me,” said Drizda, stepping up onto the dais to face Kark. The rest of Kark’s crew seemed taken aback by this; clearly it was a major breach in Draconi protocol. Zarn stepped away and moved quickly to one of the workstations behind Kark’s command chair, saying something in low tones to the Draconi stationed there.

“They took me aboard their ship, not as a prisoner, but as a trusted adviser. Together we learned the truth,” said Drizda. “This war is not meant to be.”

“You have developed the humans’ haughty manner, scientist,” Kark spat. “You have no family, no caste mark. To me you are lower than a hatchling.”

“And to me you are completely without honor!”

Kark stepped back as if struck. “How dare you!” Her long tail swished angrily behind her.

Zarn left the workstation and returned to the dais.

“Zarn, put her in chains with the others. Prepare the humans for our next meal.”

“No,” said Zarn.

Kark glared at him. “What?”

“They are telling the truth,” said her second in command. “I had our tightbeam logs for the past several hours pulled. It was encrypted, but we decoded it. The human Straker contacted you and told you about the humans’ ship.”

“So? What of it? We’ve captured the crew of the Onslaught. What I do, I do for the glory of the Egg Mother and the Empress.”

“What you do only brings glory to yourself,” said Drizda.

“Are you ready to die for your words?” said Kark.

“I am. I hereby challenge you in accordance with our laws and traditions.”

Kark clicked her teeth together. “You wish to challenge me? But you are casteless. You have no title, no property. What do you forfeit when I gut you?”

“My life, and the lives of this fine crew,” said Drizda evenly. She glanced once at Hamilton, whose face had turned white.

“Who will echo your challenge?” said Kark. “The humans cannot. They are not Draconi.”

“I will,” said Zarn.

Kark stared at him, her yellow eyes narrowed to slits. Zarn returned her stare. One by one, the rest of the bridge crew chimed in as well.

Hamilton nodded grimly. Kark’s crew didn’t trust her anymore. That was something, at least. He didn’t know if they would survive another hour, but it was something.

Chapter 37

Ascension

Once the formalities of ritual combat were out of the way, Hamilton and the rest of the Onslaught’s command crew were escorted in chains to a room apparently designed for that purpose. It was round, like a fighting arena, with a slightly raised floor in the center that appeared to be covered in old, faded blood stains. The walls were lined with some sort of artificial rock, and it was even hotter in there than it had been on the command deck of the alien ship.

Everyone lined up along the edge of the raised platform while Kark and Drizda hunched low, circling each other, each of them growling low in their throats, their tails swishing back and forth.

Suddenly the two closed on each other and grappled. Claws slash, drawing blood. As Hamilton watched he considered the odds. Kark was a seasoned commander of a warship, a soldier. Drizda was a scientist. The two were worlds apart, especially in this highly regimented society. But Hamilton had watched Drizda hold her own before. Still, he worried for her.

Kark raked Drizda’s chest with her claws, shredding her uniform. Drizda whipped her tail around into Kark’s feet, knocking her off balance before coming down on top of her, gouging Kark in the side before the captain regained her footing, throwing Drizda off of her. The two circled each other again, bleeding onto the platform and adding to the grisly tableau that marked its worn surface.

Their small, vestigial wings flexed weakly as they engaged once more, this time going after each other with their teeth, their mouths wide open. It was an odd strategy, as it kept their eyes off of their opponent, but if even the smallest bite struck home it would do a lot of damage. Drizda head-butted Kark, knocking her to the side. Then she flung her tail up into the side of Kark’s head, sending her reeling.

Grand Leader Kark gave a furious roar as she charged Drizda. Claws and tail went flying as she assaulted Drizda with everything she had, her emotions getting the better of her.

This seemed to be just what Drizda wanted. She remained calm, clearly remembering whatever limited combat training she had had as a member of the scientist caste. It was enough. She countered Kark’s blows and, when she saw an opening, grabbed her and twisted her around. Grabbing her snout and snapping Kark’s head up and back, Drizda casually drew a talon across her throat, opening a deep wound that spilled a lot of blood onto the dais. She let Kark fall sputtering and gurgling to the platform to die.

“I claim ascension by ritual combat,” Drizda proclaimed as the Draconi crew rushed to check on their fallen captain. ““All of Grand Leader Kark’s holdings, titles, and property shall transfer to me. Including command of this vessel. Does anyone wish to challenge my ascension?”

She looked around, staring each of the Draconi captain’s former crew in the eye.

“Hail Grand Leader Drizda!” shouted Zarn after a long moment. The others growled in agreement.

Hamilton exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“What are your orders, my Leader?” said Zarn.

“Release the humans,” said Drizda. “They are prisoners no longer. See to their comforts. I appoint Commander Hamilton as my advisor.”

Zarn bowed. “As you command.”

Hamilton held out his hands as his manacles were released, along with the others.

“I can’t believe what just happened,” muttered Lt. Cade. “That was amazing.”

“The show’s not over yet,” said Hamilton.

Drizda stepped off the platform even as a Draconi medic was dabbing at her wounds. “What next, Commander?”

“We need to find out the status of the Armitage,” he said. “And we still have to do something about the Swarm.

“Let’s return to the command level.”

Hamilton placed his hand on her shoulder. “But you’re bleeding.”

“Minor injuries. I will be fine. Now let’s go.”

Hamilton stared after her appraisingly. He looked at Hudson, Cade and Brackett. “Well, you heard the lady. She’s in charge.”

Chapter 38

Leda and the Probe

Leda knelt beside the faintly humming Swarm probe while the command deck erupted into chaos. She was still trying to process everything the probe had made her see and feel, flashes of it filling her mind’s eye as she tried to figure out just what was going on around her.

“Sir,” said the Armitage’s female gunner. “The Onslaught is moving to intercept. They’re charging up their guns.”

“What is that damned old fool doing?” said Straker. “Come about!”

The Armitage shuddered, and Leda heard the familiar sound of a muffled explosion. She turned and looked at the ship’s main viewer, where the Onslaught grew closer and closer, its ion cannons spitting blue streams of death at the larger capital ship.

The Armitage shuddered again, and another concussion thundered through the vessel. The Onslaught had struck something vital.

“Raise the Onslaught,” said Straker.

“They’re refusing our hails,” said the communications officer.

“Damn him!” Straker roared. “Blow them to stardust.”

Leda looked at the alien probe, her eyes scanning its ancient, pockmarked surface. Her hand ran over its skin. She could feel it pulsing with life and intelligence. It had spoken to her. It was still speaking to her. There was one overriding feeling, one dominant emotion as clear as her own urges.

Hunger.

Leda lowered her left hand that still held the dangling manacle to the floor, near one of the probe’s manipulators. It suddenly leaped into action, scissoring the manacles from her wrist cleanly and devouring them.

The ship rocked again, knocking Leda to the deck. The probe rocked where it stood. Leda raised up and unplugged the power coupling.

“He’s going to ram us!” said one of the officers.

“Destroy that ship,” Straker said.

Leda watched as the probe began to eat through the decking around it, and it immediately began to change. Its pitted skin grew smooth, its damaged pincers and manipulators started to miraculously grow back.

Straker and his crew were oblivious to what the probe was doing. They were too preoccupied with the bulk of the Onslaught rushing toward them at great speed.

“Turn about,” said Straker. “Get us out of here.”

“Helm is slow to respond, sir.”

“Just do it! They’re going to ram us.”

Leda wrapped her arms around the vibrating probe, squeezing her eyes shut. She hoped the probe could feel her thoughts as she could the probe’s. She thought one word at it. Help.

A metal tentacle snaked up to wrap gently around her hand. She reeled at the contact, fearing it would consume her, but the touch wasn’t hostile.

The Armitage rocked sharply to the left, and something at the opposite end of the command deck exploded in a shower of sparks. Warning klaxons blared.

“I thought you said you could handle that old fool Kuttner,” Weber muttered.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Straker, ignoring him “All hands, abandon ship!”

Straker ran for the exit hatch, followed closely by Weber, Tucker and Moreland. Another control panel exploded. Leda checked the viewer. The Onslaught was falling apart, but what was left of it was going to collide with the Armitage in moments. If she was going to survive the next few minutes she needed to do something fast.

The marine wobbled toward her, stun stick in hand, but the rocking of the deck made his footing unsure. Leda kicked out, connecting solidly with his right knee. She heard a loud crack as he screamed, dropping to the deck, his stun stick rolling away.

Leda pounced on him, punching him hard in the face until he no longer moved. She yanked his needle gun out of its holster and spun, crouching on one knee.

All of this happened in the space of a few seconds; Straker and the others were still trying to leave the command deck, and fighting over which of them should be allowed to go through the portal first. Leda aimed and fired, hitting Moreland in the left shoulder blade. He spun, spat red mist, and fell.

She aimed at Straker, but he pushed Weber away from him, into the line of fire. The cloud of flechettes caught him in the neck, eviscerating soft tissue. He fell in a heap next to Moreland.

Leda aimed again but Straker was gone. The command deck officers had fled too in search of the nearest lifepod. Leda knew she wouldn’t have that option.

She dropped the now empty weapon and hugged against the Swarm probe, which was now raising itself up on manipulators beneath it. “Whatever you’re going to do, you’d better do it now,” she said.

The alien probe began to vibrate, its pincers and manipulators moving faster than she could see. The deck beneath them disappeared, and was replaced by…something else. The space darkened as the probe encased them both within a metallic sphere. She reached up and touched it, feeling its texture. Fullerene?

The probe finished its work just as there was a final, violent shudder, the sphere jostling them inside it as it bounced around wildly. There was a final concussion and suddenly Leda and the probe were floating weightless inside the dark sphere.

“Well, we’re free of the ship,” she murmured. “Now what?”

Chapter 39

Straker

The small, retrofitted warsprite made it clear of the Armitage just as it fell apart, Colonel Straker sitting confidently before the controls. “Proxima,” he said.

The ship’s dutiful AI hummed to life. “Yes, Colonel Straker?”

“Tightbeam the Swarm. Send them the transformation sequence we developed.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

Straker grinned. It wasn’t over, not by a long shot. He would still get his way. The Draconi homeworld would still be exterminated. And he had just the weapon that would do it.

He had already set course for the last known location of the Swarm, and the fast vessel was almost there. He watched on the viewer as he neared them. They had finished disassembling the Heinlein; now they clustered together, awaiting further instructions. Such loyal little creatures.

Straker watched, fascinated, as the signal he’d sent goaded them into action once more. This time, instead of moving on in search of another ship to devour, the alien probes linked together, extruding flat sheets of some dull gray metal. They ran off kilometers of the stuff, until you couldn’t see the individual probes at all. They had combined, becoming something much bigger than each of them could be alone.

“Beautiful,” said Straker. “Now destroy the Draconi for me. Kill them all.”

“A Draconi vessel is heading this way,” said Proxima. “Designation the Razor.”

“Kark’s ship,” said Straker. He considered his options. Their working relationship had never been friendly, and she had probably been clued in to his subterfuge.

“Set a course for the Q-gate,” said Straker. “Max speed. It’s time to bug out.”

As the little warsprite turned and headed for the Artra system’s sun, Straker wondered if his plans would finally come to fruition. He wished he could stick around to see it through, but for now it was safer for him if he got out of the way. At least the Wave was coming. Nothing could stop that.

Nothing.

Chapter 40

Communication

“What the hell is that?” asked Hamilton as the Razor sped toward what was left of the Armitage.

“It appears to be some sort of alien vessel,” said the Razor’s navigator. “I’ve never seen its like.”

The ship was immense and strangely beautiful. Curves of dull gray metal spiraling up to a sharp point. There were no visible weapons, but Hamilton knew they were there.

“It’s the Swarm probes,” said Drizda. “They’ve reconfigured into something else. Some kind of weapon.”

“Straker,” said Hamilton, glancing at her. “Looks like he was successful in reprogramming them.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Drizda. “Lt. Brackett, if you will kindly assist me.”

Brackett stepped forward from where she’d been leaning against the bulkhead and joined Drizda at the communications console.

“The ship has powerful ion engines,” said the navigator. “It’s leaving the system at an accelerated rate.”

“Where is it going?” said Zarn.

“The Q-gate.”

Hamilton stepped forward, started to say something, then looked at Drizda. “It might be a good idea to put ourselves in between the Swarm ship and the Q-gate.”

“Drizda nodded. “Navigator, do as he says.” She silently lamented the fact that she didn’t know his name, but there would be plenty of time for formal introductions later.

“Yes, my Leader!”

“Grand Leader Drizda,” said the communications officer. “We’re receiving a signal from the vicinity of the wreck of the Armitage. It’s weak, but—”

“Open a channel,” Drizda said.

“-to anyone within signal range, this is Lt. Leda Niles. I’m aboard a—I’m with one of the Swarm probes. We’re in a small fullerene sphere. Please help.

“Can she hear us?” asked Hamilton.

“It’s worth a try,” said Drizda. “Go ahead.”

“Lt. Niles,” said Hamilton. “Leda. Can you hear me?”

“N-Noah?”

“Yeah. It’s me. We’ll come find you. Somehow. Just hang tight.”

“I’m going to run out of air soon,” she said.

“I know. Just hang on. Keep your comm open.”

“Lt. Niles, this is Drizda of the Draconi Science Council and now captain of the Draconi vessel the Razor. I have been analyzing the Swarm’s song. You say you are with one of the probes now?”

“Y-yes,” said Leda. “It was a damaged one we found a while ago. I helped it repair itself and it—”

“Can you get it to sing for us?” said Drizda.

“What?”

“We believe the Swarm lost its original programming. The probe you’re with might contain their original instructions. I need it to make contact with the others.”

“Understood. I’ll try.”

They heard a series of strange, ethereal tones over the tightbeam, a soulful, discordant threnody as beautiful as it was alien.

“Tones received,” said Lt. Brackett as she huddled next to the Razor’s communications officer. “Analyzing.”

“What is that cacophonous noise?” growled Zarn.

“That is language,” said Drizda. “Spoken throughout this sector of the galaxy when our ancestors were still hunting moka from the skies of our homeworld.”

They listened for a few more seconds, then Drizda ordered the audio muted. The Razor’s computer was still analyzing the Probe’s signal, recording and analyzing it for structure and meaning. Drizda’s slate was resting on the communications panel, tied in with the ship’s systems.

“I need coordinates on that tightbeam signal,” said Hamilton.

Drizda nodded to the helmsman. “Do as he says.”

The new Swarm ship was accelerating rapidly, and the Razor had to tax its engines just to keep up.

“Leda is back there somewhere,” said Hamilton. “I can’t just leave her.”

“I’m sorry, Commander,” said Drizda. “But we have to stop the Swarm. It is threatening our homeworld.”

Hamilton sighed. He knew she was right. He was a soldier, and so was Leda. They both knew the sacrifice they might have to make for the greater good. But it still felt like a bad decision. Why did even one person have to die so others could live? He thought about Kuttner, about Admiral Sheldon, and all the others they had lost. How many more would die before this was over?

“We’ve got it,” said Brackett. She was still unsure what to call Drizda now that she was in command of the Draconi vessel. “These appear to be earlier tones than the ones we were using. But there’s enough here to form a basic primer for communicating with them.”

“Excellent,” said Drizda. “Let’s see if we can talk them out of their current course.”

“Computer is extrapolating,” said Brackett. “Sending tones now.”

At first nothing happened as the Razor slowly started to overtake the still accelerating Swarm ship. Hamilton looked at the viewer as the strange vessel drew closer.

“Grand Leader Drizda,” said the navigator. “The Swarm vessel is slowing, decelerating.”

Hamilton watched as pale blue braking jets along its length fired. “They’re listening. It’s working.”

“Good,” said Drizda.

“I’m letting the computer take over,” said Brackett. “They’re talking to each other now.”

“Leader,” said Zarn. “The Swarm ship is coming about. Shall we take evasive action?”

“No,” said Drizda. “I do not believe their intention is a hostile one.”

Hamilton watched through the viewer as the ship began to fragment and break apart, each piece reconfiguring into the individual probes they were familiar with.

“What did we say to it?” asked Hamilton.

“I think the ship’s computer just reprogrammed them,” said Brackett. She listened through her cochlear implant as the ship received the Swarm tones and translated them. “They’re sending the tones for sorrow, regret, guilt. They’re apologizing for everything they’ve done.”

Drizda sighed. It came out as a snake-like hiss. “Tell them we accept their apology.”

“I’ll try,” said Brackett. The Razor’s communications officer helped her make sense of the Draconi controls as they sent what they hoped were the proper tones.

“They’re answering back,” said Brackett. “They’re looking for something called Leader. They hear Leader but cannot find him. Where is Leader?”

“The other probe aboard the Armitage,” said Hamilton. “Leda said it was connected to the ship’s power. That’s what Straker used to reprogram them.”

“We had assumed they were some sort of distributed intelligence,” said Drizda. “But what if they’re more like an insect colony? With a queen.”

Hamilton nodded. “The damage to Leader spread through the programming of the others. They lost their original purpose of exploration, and instead started aimlessly eating everything and multiplying.”

Hamilton jumped up from where he sat near the navigation console. “Lieutenant, give them the coordinates for Leda’s comm. Tell them Leader is in danger.”

“I’ll try,” said Brackett. “Sending now.”

“Put on main viewer,” ordered Drizda.

The cluster of probes undulated like a school of radiant fish, then moved away, sweeping back toward the cluster of debris that had been the Onslaught and the Armitage.

“Follow them,” Drizda ordered, and the Razor moved in pursuit.

“Please still be alive,” Hamilton muttered.

Chapter 41

Rescue

Leda floated in darkness. The only light came from a panel on the side of the alien probe. She was cold, and the air was getting stuffy. Beside her the probe hummed and sang, and she wondered if it knew she was a biological lifeform that needed warmth and a breathable atmosphere. She also wondered if she could hold out long enough to be rescued, realizing she had probably just exchanged a quick, death for a slow one.

The Swarm probe began singing more excitedly now. The tenuous neural connection they somehow shared sent waves of emotions to her, making her mind reel. What was it saying? There was an overwhelming feeling of recognition, safety, belonging. Home. Brothers.

Leda smiled. The other Swarm probes. They had found them.

Good old Noah Hamilton. He said he’d find and rescue her. He just never said how.

There was a bump as the giant bucky-ball that enveloped them bumped up against something. She heard machinery drilling through the curved wall opposite her, heard movement. Fresh air soon filled the small space, and it was warm.

“Thank you,” Leda murmured.

Leda felt the sphere being tugged in one direction.

You safe. Home safe. The probe sent.

They were jostled about as the fullerene sphere bounced around once more, Leda slamming into the probe more than once. Suddenly their weightlessness vanished, and they fell to the curved floor, the probe almost toppling over. It held itself upright on a set of undulating mechanical tentacles.

A small shaft of light appeared in the top of the sphere and slowly expanded as the skin of the bucky-ball vanished back into its constituent atoms. In moments she was left huddling on the floor of a strange alien vessel, the air hot and humid.

A squad of perplexed Draconi warriors stared down at her. They looked as if Leda had just hatched from one of their eggs. Hamilton stood behind them next to a female Draconi with a fresh scar on the right side of her face.

Hamilton came over and extended his hand. She took it and he hauled her up.

“I am glad to see you,” said Leda, glancing around. “Where the hell am I?”

“You’re aboard a Draconi ship called the Razor,” said Hamilton. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. Right now we have a war to stop.”

Leda glanced at Drizda, who was staring over her left shoulder. She turned to see the Swarm probe resting on its manipulators, humming softly.

“How did you communicate with it?” Drizda asked.

“I don’t know,” Leda said. “It just touched me, and…” She scratched at her right temple, causing Drizda to glance at it.

“Look,” said the Draconi. “Subcutaneous circuitry.”

“What?” Leda touched the itchy spot. She couldn’t feel anything other than the incessant itch.

“Yeah,” said Hamilton. “It must have created some kind of nano-scale neural connection in your brain.”

“Well,” said Leda. “That’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard today.” She glanced sidelong at the probe. “It wants to go home, rejoin the others.”

Drizda nodded. “Everyone back to the command deck. When we’re clear, open the shuttle bay.”

“Yes, Grand Leader,” one of the reptilian officers growled.

Leda turned to look at the probe one last time. “Thank you again,” she said quietly before following Hamilton and the group of Draconi out of the shuttle bay.

“Did you really just hijack a Draconi vessel?” Leda whispered to Hamilton as they returned to the command deck.

“Not exactly,” he said. “Like I said, long story.”

“No doubt.”

They walked a few more steps. Led couldn’t believe how hot and humid it was aboard the ship. It was worse than being cooped up in that sphere.

“Where’s Straker?” Hamilton asked.

“I don’t know. He might be dead, but he might have managed to escape before the Armitage blew apart.”

Hamilton nodded grimly. “We’ll worry about him later.”

“He could still have some followers out there,” said Leda. “And that’s not all. I-I saw the Chaos Wave.”

“You what?”

“The probe showed me what happened to the world of its creators. That’s a long story too, but suffice it to say, the Chaos Wave is real, and it’s coming.”

Hamilton sighed. “I was afraid of that. Well, at least we’ll have advance warning this time.”

As they entered the command deck, Leda wondered if that advance warning would be enough to stop them.

The Swarm was still clustered in the main viewer, pulsing in unison as if a single living organism. It was quite beautiful. “The Swarm is sending us a message,” said Lt. Brackett. “They are sorry for what they have done, and have been restored to their true purpose. They wish to go in peace.” Brackett looked at Hamilton and Drizda. “At least that’s the gist of what they said.”

“Well,” said Hamilton, “we can’t very well put them on trial for murder. They were malfunctioning machines.”

“We have enough to worry about without them,” said Drizda. “And they cannot help us any longer. Tell them they can go.”

Brackett sent the message. “They promise to never harm our interests,” she said after a long moment. “But they are curious about us. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of them.”

“Yes,” said Leda. The neural connection was still there, but it was fading, weakened by the great distance between her and the original probe. “I think they’ve atoned as best they could.”

They watched as the Swarm departed the system on gets of charged particles. Hamilton wondered if he would cross paths with them again.

Chapter 42

To the Stars

Commander Noah Hamilton smoothed the front of his crisp, new uniform and stared up at the alien building. It was gray and formidable, topped with narrow spires capped with curving talons. The emblem of the Egg Mother decorated the wide space above the arch that straddled the entrance. It had been there for six standard months, and he still didn’t think he would ever get used to it. Then again, he didn’t think the Draconi would ever get used to it either, as they were not the kind to set up embassies on alien worlds, walking among his kind as equals instead of conquerors.

Hamilton took it as a good sign. Times were changing, and if the Draconi could change, then certainly his species could as well. But he wasn’t there to gawk at alien architecture. He was there to see an old friend.

“Drizda,” he called across the wide avenue as he converged on their agreed-upon rendezvous point.

The lean reptilian figure turned at the sound and waved as Hamilton moved through a small crowd of uniformed men and woman toward her. She was wearing a gold sash over her crimson uniform and a predator’s smile.

“Hello, Commander,” she said. “It has been a long time.”

“Too long,” agreed Hamilton. “But it’s not Commander anymore. It’s Captain.”

He pointed at the epaulets pinned to his collar.

She clicked her teeth approvingly. “Congratulations. Captain.”

“I see you got a promotion as well,” he said. “What’s with the sash?”

“I am the League’s Head Science Liaison,” she said, stumbling a bit on that last word. “I have also been reinstated with my clan.” She turned her head to the left, touching the fresh tattoo there.

“Wonderful,” said Hamilton.

“My controversial work is being reevaluated. It will take many cycles to change their minds. But it is a beginning. What of you?”

“They gave me my own command. I’m shipping out on the Zelazny within the hour.” He pointed toward the huge beanstalk near the fleet yards that would take him into orbit, where a shuttle would carry him to the brand new Quasar class rail gun ship currently in high orbit over the planet.

Drizda’s vestigial wings fluttered slightly. “Captain Kuttner would be proud.”

“Yes, I rather think that he would,” said Hamilton. He was going to miss the old man. He still hadn’t been able to open the bottle Kuttner had given him and drink a toast to the old man’s memory. Things had gone non-stop since the battle of Artra, which had more or less ended in a draw. Between the two of them, Hamilton and Drizda had been able to tightbeam enough admirals and Draconi grand leaders to call a temporary truce until they could figure out what was going on. It helped their cause a great deal that Grand Leader Koro of the Talon, whom they had helped offload the eggs from the deep space hatchery and escape the Swarm, finally showed up to the party. Koro’s testimony was pivotal in calling off the battle. There were still some minor skirmishes in other parts of League space, fires that would take several standard months to put out. Meanwhile, their real enemy was fast approaching. If they could convince the powers that be of that fact.

“I hope our two peoples can continue to work together,” he said.

“As do I.”

“Well,” said Hamilton, consulting his wrist slate. “I need to shove off. I’ve got a new ship to shake down.”

“Where will you go?” said Drizda.

“Well, for starters, we’re going to Citadel to meet with the Admiralty. They still have a lot of questions about what the probe showed Leda concerning the Chaos Wave. From there, who knows? It would be nice to do some exploring, now that the war is over Especially if some alien menace is on its way here.”

Drizda nodded. “Perhaps my kind should do the same.”

“Well, I could use a good science officer.”

Drizda clicked her teeth. “Thank you, but I cannot resign my post. My people need me here.”

Hamilton smiled. “Look me up if you change your mind.”

“Be careful out there, Noah Hamilton.”

“I will.”

Hamilton trotted off. He was already running behind, and it wouldn’t look good for a new ship’s captain to be late, especially since he still had one last stop to make.

Leda met him at the door of her barracks, resplendent in her white and gold dress uniform. Hamilton thought they looked like matching penguins.

“You ready to go?”

She sighed deeply. “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’ve been dirtside too long. It’ll be nice to get the stars under my feet again.”

Hamilton regarded her for a long moment. The spiderweb tracery of minute circuitry was still there, just beneath the skin of her right temple. The docs who examined her said it would probably go away in time, but so far it hadn’t. It remained a constant reminder of the bizarre affair they had just gone through. Had it really only been six standard months? It felt like only a few weeks had passed since that distress beacon.

“Good,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Leda shouldered her duffle as she followed Hamilton out into the bright sunlight. “I’m still wondering why you picked me, of all people.”

“You know how to handle yourself in tough situations,” said Hamilton. “Who knows what we’ll find out there? I want one of the best officers I’ve ever served with by my side.”

Leda smiled. “You’re just saying that.”

Hamilton grinned back at her. “You got me. Really I just need someone to help me drink this bottle of scotch.” He tapped a lump in his uniform pocket.

Leda smiled. “I could drink you under the table any day, Captain.”

As they hopped onto the moving sidewalk that would take them to the beanstalk, Leda couldn’t help thinking about the importance of their mission. What would they find out there? In her mind’s eye she could still see the planet of the Makers, the shadow passing over it and destroying every trace of life there. How could they stop something like that?

“There’s only one way to find out,” she murmured as they jumped off the conveyor and lined up for the beanstalk.

END

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About James

James Palmer is an award-nominated writer and editor of science fiction, pulp adventure, steampunk and more. He has written articles, interviews, columns and reviews for Strange Horizons, The Internet Review of Science Fiction, and Tangent Online. He is perhaps best known as co-creator and editor of the shared world alternate history giant monster anthology series Monster Earth.

A recovering comic book addict, James lives in Northeast Georgia with his wife and daughter. When not writing or reading space opera, he can be found blogging about writing, indie publishing and 80’s pop culture. For more examples of his work—and to sign up for his free mailing list—visit www.jamespalmerbooks.com.