Faraday System
United Colonies
June 15, 2407
The Aurorae's defense screens flared as multiple beams struck. The impacts rocked the destroyer and threw Alannis Giovanni against her seat restraints. “Increase power to front defense screens!” She snapped. At the same time, she keyed up a new set of targets, “I need target data on the enemy gunboats!”
“Working on it,” her sensors officer said. “Half my target sensors are down, I can't get a good read on them.”
The enemy gunboats were a design based on Admiral Collae's Hellbores. Each of those frigates mounted a heavy spinal beam, far larger than any ship but a cruiser could effectively mount as a standard weapon.
They made up for that by being fragile and slow, they simply didn't have enough power to operate their heavy weapon as well as other high-power systems at full capacity. They were also obvious targets under normal conditions, their reactors, capacitor banks, and the discharge of their weapons made them beacons on sensors.
But they and the other ships in the attacking force had already damaged Aurorae. Half her systems were out and the other half were barely functional. She had no telemetry data for her missiles at all, which hardly mattered since only two of the destroyer's eight missile tubes remained intact.
Missiles, she thought. “Set missiles to internal guidance and fire on my mark!” Alannis snapped. They only had Mark III's left, which had external telemetry and a secondary electromagnetic guidance package.
Alannis brought the Aurorae around. Without telemetry, the missiles would travel in a straight line until they acquired their targets. This was the equivalent of blind firing and hoping she'd hit something... but it was better than nothing. “Fire!”
The Aurorae's two missile tubes spat their remaining seven missiles, all aimed at the formation of enemy ships. Alannis rolled the Aurorae away just as the enemy opened fire again.
This time, at least two of the beams struck under the leading edge of the defense screens and the bridge lurched and smoke and sparks billowed through the compartment.
“Forward projectors are down!” the engineer shouted. “Missile tubes three and seven are destroyed and our remaining defense batteries are offline.”
Alannis grimaced as the Aurorae limped away from her pursuers. Their sensors were so blind now they couldn't even watch their missiles, she wouldn't know if they were on target or wildly off-target until they detonated.
“Fighter's coming in!” her sensor officer called.
A moment later, Alannis saw the faint signatures. Her lips drew back in a snarl as she saw their vector, the fighters were almost on top of them and lining up for a close-range attack run. “Roll ship, twenty degrees and engage with final protective fires!”
She saw out of the corner of her eye that several of the missiles she'd launched had detonated, but her gaze was fixed upon the incoming fighters. The surviving defense turrets opened up, but they were firing blind as a deterrent to the enemy fighters' accuracy more than anything else.
Those fighters fired their missiles at less than a thousand kilometers, just far enough out for the missile acquisition systems to engage and for the warheads to safely activate. Thirteen of the fifteen fission warheads detonated around the Aurorae and the ship vanished in a ball of nuclear fire.
Alannis's screen went black and red letters flashed: Simulation Terminated.
***
The tactical display froze with the damaged Aurorae frozen, angled as she fired her missiles.
“So,” Captain Penwaithe asked in a dry voice, “Just what the hell did you think you were doing at fifteen forty-eight?” The tall, black officer was in charge of the Academy's Final Simulation Exercise, the very last evaluation that every cadet had to complete.
Alannis sat perfectly straight and addressed him in as professional a manner as she could manage. “Sir, with my telemetry damaged, I couldn't control my remaining missile loadout externally, so I fired them on internal systems only.”
“A desperation ploy,” Captain Penwaithe said, his voice gruff. “Sometimes that pays off and sometimes it doesn't.” His tone of voice suggested that most often it was the latter. He activated a switch and the tactical display resumed play.
On the display, the seven missiles fired out, a rough cone as they fired across the arc of the Aurorae's relative motion. She could see right away that only four of the missiles would go anywhere near their targets. Three of those picked up the enemy gunboats and homed in. Two detonated on target, killing the enemy frigates and the third detonated near enough that the frigate showed heavy damage.
Yes, Alannis thought with satisfaction, I got three of them. As far as she knew, none of the other cadets in her class had managed to damage more than two of the ships, even her friend Ashtar Shan had only killed one and damaged a second.
Yet the missile tracks didn't end. The four other missiles continued outward, long after the Aurorae succumbed to the fighter's close range salvo. Three of them winked out as the simulator counted them inconsequential and erased them... but the last one blinked to show it had acquired a target on its internal passive sensors.
Alannis saw where it was headed a moment later and she bit back a curse. The simulated missile homed in on the damaged civilian freighter that the raiders had used as bait... and then detonated.
“Congratulations,” Captain Penwaithe said. “You took out a quarter of the raider fleet along with thirty-three simulated innocent civilians.”
Alannis flinched at that. In reality, those civilians would be dead or worse anyway, with the raiders free to kill or enslave them. But in the simulation, the objective had been to save them.
Not that anyone had, but the Aurorae simulation wasn't about winning, it was about fighting it out until the end. After over two hours in the simulator, she felt completely wrung out. Her ship suit stank of sweat and her body felt like it was made of rubber. She knew that they kept the heat turned up in the simulator to make it all the rougher, just as they deliberately put traces of chemicals to irritate the eyes, nose, and throat of those in the exercise.
It was also part of why they'd had her up for the past twenty four hours prior to the exam's start. They wanted this to be as grueling a test as possible.
“Sorry, sir,” Alannis said.
“You need to remember, cadet, that your actions have consequences,” Captain Penwaithe said. “Now, other than your final write-up, you've completed the Aurorae simulation.”
“Wait... I passed?” Alannis asked in surprise. She had thought that by killing the freighter, it would be an automatic failure.
“You passed,” Captain Penwaithe said. He hesitated and then gave a slight shrug, as if what he was about to say wasn't strictly speaking within the realm of an instructor, but that it was good mentorship. “The Aurorae is meant to test your ability to perform under a highly stressful combat environment. You managed it well enough. While we do run scores based off survival time and how well you acquit yourself, the primary measurement is your ability to function and make decisions. Sometimes making any decision in time is better than making the right decision too late.”
“Thank you, sir,” Alannis said.
“As a note... those cadets who participated in putting down the Dreyfus Mutiny typically test well in that regard compared to those who have not,” Captain Penwaithe gave a grim smile. “It's the element of having been in combat that makes the difference, I think.”
Alannis felt her face go wooden. She'd known Admiral Dreyfus, her brother had considered him a friend... and the reminder of his betrayal still hurt three years later. It seemed that most of the people she had respected had eventually betrayed her in one way or another. Like Reese, she thought, letting people get close never seems to work out.
“Well,” Captain Penwaithe seemed to realize that he'd hit a nerve, “that concludes the oral evaluation. You're dismissed, Cadet Giovanni.”
***
Chapter I
Faraday Colony, Faraday System
United Colonies
June 19, 2407
“Woohoo!” Princess Kaylee Giovanni shouted, waving the ball triumphantly over her head, “I win! You guys can't get me!”
Alannis grinned as the Crown Princess gave out an undignified squawk as her adopted sister tackled her. A moment later, Alannis's son Anthony William rushed over to thump down on top of his cousins. “Get off me!” Kaylee shouted.
“Going to miss this?” Emperor Lucius Giovanni asked of his sister.
Alannis looked over at him and grinned, “Yeah, a bit.”
She looked back at the three children at play and her grin faded as her son looked up. At only three years old, Anthony William was of equal height to his cousins and had blonde hair and blue eyes much like his father. He'd grabbed the ball and he ran up to her, “Mommy, I got the ball!” he squealed.
Alannis nodded, “Good work. Now give it back, play nice.” She hated how neutral her voice sounded and she saw her son's shoulders slump. I'm a terrible mother, she thought, but then again, it wasn't like I planned on being one. Reese had been the one with the plan.
As her son ran back to the game, Alannis grabbed for her glass of wine and took a rather larger sip than was really necessary. “It'll be good to finally get out there and do my job, you know?”
She didn't miss how her brother watched her with concerned eyes. For a moment, she feared he would actually say something about her relationship with her son. Young Anthony had spent most of his childhood in Lucius's care. Alannis had used her duties as a cadet at the Faraday Military Academy as an excuse for why she didn't spend time with him. In truth, she didn't have much free time, but she knew she could have spent more of it than she had with her son. Yet the moment passed and Alannis let out a slight sigh of relief. “So,” she said cheerfully, “how much did you have to do with my assignment?”
Lucius snorted, “You think I pulled strings to get you assigned to the Constellation?” He shook his head, “Tell me, has being my sister made things easier or harder for you at the Academy?”
Alannis winced in reply. Her instructors had gone out of their way to show no favors to her. Oftentimes she had felt as if they graded her every assignment with greater stringency. “Much harder,” she said.
Lucius nodded, “If you'd said anything differently, I would have pulled General Proscia as superintendent.” He took a sip of his own wine and his gaze went distant, “We're founding a new nation, which means setting precedents. If I made certain that General Proscia and his instructors wouldn't show you any preference, just how likely is it that I pulled strings to get you assigned to our newest, most powerful cruiser?”
Alannis gave a wry grin, “Not very. Which means I did earn my posting. That's nice to know, anyway.”
“You earned it,” her brother nodded. “Which means you get to go gallivanting around human space while I'm stuck here doing statesman stuff.” He frowned, “Sorry. That came across as more bitter than I'd intended.”
Alannis's eyebrows went up, “Things exciting in politics?”
“More than I'd like,” Lucius grumbled. He sighed, “You've no doubt heard some of the grandstanding by Senator Penwaithe?” When Alannis nodded, he continued, “He's doing his best to drag his feet over new worlds joining, and when they do, he tries to extend their probationary period as long as possible.”
On the one hand, she suspected that Senator Harris Penwaithe did so out of political ambition. Probationary members of the United Colonies didn't get a full vote, and newer members had fewer proportionate votes dependent upon the date they had joined the United Colonies. That gave his voters more power... and it gave him more clout. On the other hand, the system was designed to prevent dilution of the founding principles of the United Colonies.
Since Captain Garret Penwaithe and Commander Abigail Penwaithe both taught at the Academy, she was a bit more likely to think better of Senator Harris Penwaithe's intent. All the same, she'd seen enough politics from inside and outside to know that the Senator from Halcyon wasn't as pure of heart as he made out.
“Anything I can help with?” Alannis asked with a sunny smile. After all, she was about to leave on a nice, long, show the flag cruise. Rumor had it that the Constellation would be far from United Colonies space. In all probability, there was nothing she could do.
“Actually,” Lucius said, “there is something I want to talk to you about.” He gave a look over at Staff Sergeant Timorsky. The Marine gave him a nod in return, a clear sign that the security perimeter, to include a variety of anti-signal jamming equipment, was still intact.
“While I didn't pull strings for you to be assigned to the Constellation,” Lucius said, “I did decide to capitalize on the situation and adjust the mission since I knew you'd be aboard.”
“Oh,” Alannis said and her smile faded.
“Yes,” Lucius nodded, “the Constellation's mission has shifted from a standard patrol to an escort mission. The first turn-key upgrades for our Shogunate allies are available and we're sending the Constellation as the escort for the convoy, along with the destroyers Regent and Crossbow. Since we'll have some of our civilian engineers aboard the Constellation for a final set of diagnostics, they can also assist with any issues that the Shogunate encounters getting things set up.”
Alannis sighed, “I'll assume I'm there as Princess Alannis Giovanni rather than newly minted Ensign Alannis Giovanni?”
“No,” Lucius shook his head, “You get to wear both hats. Congratulations. Captain Beeson will be our official representative and Mitchel Kondas is our diplomatic envoy. But the way things work there is they like to take the measure of the dynasty they're dealing with. They're very much traditionalists.” That was an understatement from what Alannis knew. The Shogunate contained several colonies founded by Earth's Japan. All three of the central, founding colonies harkened back to a more feudal style of governance, each of them paying notional obedience to their Emperor, who had mostly symbolic authority. They also strongly valued military tradition, which meant her presence as an officer and the Emperor's sister should carry some weight.
“Okay, do I have any talking points?” Alannis asked with resignation.
“Nothing so pushy,” Lucius grinned. “Just set a good example, tell some war stories, and generally make friends. Let Ambassador Kondas handle the rest.”
“Great,” Alannis sighed. “Anything else I can help you with?”
“That's plenty for now,” Lucius said. He nodded over at where Anthony had taken the ball and started running. “Maybe you should spend some time with your son? It'll be a long time before you see him again.”
It was as blunt as he could be without crossing a line and it set Alannis's back up. She forced herself to give him a smile. “He's having fun, I don't want to interrupt.”
“You've only got so much time before he grows up,” Lucius said, “you don't want to miss out on this part.”
Alannis closed her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't love her son... it was just that he looked so much like her ex-husband that she felt physically ill when she thought about it. Bad enough that the bastard had hacked her implant to get her pregnant, he'd also signed on with the pirate Lucretta Mannetti. After Lucius had captured the renegade Admiral, they'd turned up more information that showed Reese had done some extremely questionable work, often involving human test subjects and alien equipment.
At best, Reese was a criminal who had betrayed her trust. At worst... well, he had betrayed everything Alannis believed in. “It's not easy for me, okay?” Alannis said. “It's different for you. You love Kandergain,” Alannis waved a hand at Kaylee as the girl tackled her son. Kandergain was some kind of super-psychic and was Kaylee's mother. She'd left because she didn't want to endanger Lucius or her daughter by drawing her enemies down upon them. “Me... I hate Reese.”
Lucius looked more than a little uncomfortable. Long before she'd even met Reese he had been Lucius's friend. It was through her brother that she and Reese met. Reese was charming, handsome, intelligent... and he only ever cared about himself, she thought bitterly.
She could see the discomfort on her brother’s face and Alannis gave a sigh. “Alright... when I get back from this assignment, I'll take some time off, I'll spend some time with Anthony, okay? I'd do it now, but I've got to report in this afternoon.” She didn't mention that she'd asked for an early report time, partially out of excitement to get to her first assignment and partially because it gave her an excuse not to guilt-tripped by her brother.
Besides, she thought, it's not like I even know how to be a parent. Her father had led a failed coup against Emperor Romulus II and her mother had committed suicide when she was only a few weeks old. She and Lucius had been raised by their grandmother.
Alannis could tell that Lucius wasn't happy with her answer, but he didn't push her. There will be time later, she told herself, when Anthony is older, I can explain it all to him.
Somehow, that didn't make her feel any better.
***
Sanctuary Station, Faraday System
United Colonies
June 21, 2407
“Sir,” Alannis said, “Ensign Giovanni reporting for duty.” She gave a crisp salute and then passed over her orders.”
Captain Beeson returned the salute sharply. Despite the fact that he must have known she'd be reporting, he took the paper copy of her orders and examined them carefully. “Everything is in order,” he said and passed them back. “Chief Donnitz will want to in-process you, but I'd like you to tour the ship, first.” He looked over, “Lieutenant Perkins!”
The tall, gaunt Lieutenant snapped to attention, “Sir?”
“Please give the ensign a tour of the ship,” Captain Beeson said. He frowned then, “And if you see Lieutenant Commander Bowder, please introduce the XO to our new officer.”
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Perkins said. He jerked his head at Alannis and then headed for the back hatch to the bridge. Alannis gave a parting salute to the commanding officer and then followed.
“So,” Lieutenant Perkins said, “Find your way to the ship with no problems?” The Lieutenant seemed familiar for some reason. He had a twangy accent, most unlike the prim and proper Nova Roman or the core worlds. He was tall, taller even than her ex-husband, with closely cropped dark brown hair and dark brown eyes to match.
“Yes, sir,” Alannis said. Sanctuary Station was the Fleet's new military station in orbit over the gas giant Sanctuary. Unlike the older Skydock Station in orbit over Faraday, the Department of War had designed the station purely for construction, repair, and docking of military ships. While some of the docks had been online and functional for over two years, much of the rest of the station still wasn't operational.
The Constellation's berth lay at the very first of a long chain of military docks. Only two other ships shared the space, the Constellation's two sister ships, neither of which had been commissioned yet.
Most of the system's other military traffic was in orbit over Faraday. In fact, other than the shipments of personnel for the new ships and deliveries of materials and supplies for the shipyard, there wasn't much of any activity around Sanctuary Station. I suppose that was some of the idea behind putting it out here, she thought, fewer prying eyes to see military secrets.
She followed Lieutenant Perkins down the corridor. Everything had a new and shiny feel to it. The markings on the walls were crisp and sharp, the gray paint was clean, and there were no scuff-marks anywhere to be seen.
“So,” Perkins said, “we actually finished our trial cruise and official acceptance two days ago. Until then we only had two thirds of our personnel complement. You're the first of our new officers to arrive, so you'll get the pick of the Ensign's quarters.”
He turned down a corridor and then paused. “This is officer country. XO and Chief Engineer's quarters are fore and aft respectively. Further down the hall you've got the shared quarters for lieutenants... and then there at the end there's the Ensign and Midshipman quarters.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder, “Captain's quarters are back towards the bridge.”
Perkins continued on, “You saw the bridge, we have two engine rooms for our two reactors, forward and aft. Weapons control is broken down by forward and aft as well. You know about the new armament?”
Alannis frowned, “I'd only heard rumors. The manuals aren't available even in secure systems yet.”
“Well...” Lieutenant Perkins gave a wry grin over his shoulder, “that's probably because we're rewriting the manuals just about every day.” He ducked under a low pipe without looking and then led her down a ladder. She didn't know how he managed the tight confines of the ship without injury. She felt claustrophobic as they took a particularly narrow ladder. “The reason we're not taking the drop-lifts, by the way, is they're offline for calibration,” he said.
“Oh,” Alannis said in reply. She rather hoped they'd locked down all the access doors to the shafts then, otherwise a crewman would be in for a rather big surprise when they stepped into open air and the gravity system didn't catch them.
“This is forward weapon control,” Lieutenant Perkins said as they came into the chamber. It didn't look like much. The beam generators were four bulky pieces of equipment with piping and conduits coming off.
“No, no, no, no!” A man shouted. “You stupid imbecile, this is a piece of equipment that generates and accelerates high energy exotic particles... do you really want to kill us all!?”
Alannis turned and saw a short, balding man in civilian garb waving his hands in the air in front of an enlisted man. Alannis recognized Rory after a moment, the short, chubby engineer was some kind of expert on alien technology or something. Her brother had mentioned that he had him working on a variety of projects, apparently this was one.
The Weapons Tech looked like he wanted to do nothing more than escape. “Uh, sir, I'm just doing maintenance...”
“Just following orders, is it?” Rory demanded. “Do you think that will excuse you when you destroy not just this entire ship, but the station we're docked with!?”
Almost on cue, Feliks, Rory's constant companion, stuck his head out of an open maintenance hatch. The tall, skinny engineer had a pair of glasses perched on his nose and he had a patient expression, “In all likelihood, what he has done would only destroy the forward end of the vessel.” His rough Centauri Confederation accent gave his calm, soft-spoken tone more weight.
“Only? Only!?” Rory demanded. “I happen to currently be in the forward end of this vessel! And you didn't consider the consequences of the reversed polarity on the power junction... did you?”
Feliks cocked his head as he considered that “No.”
He pulled out his datapad even as Rory turned to face Lieutenant Perkins. “I demand that this man be fired immediately! He jeopardized the lives of the entire crew and especially the passengers!”
“He means him,” Feliks said helpfully without looking up as he tapped at his datapad.
“I am a nearly irreplaceable engineer with both incredible talent and unrivaled credentials,” Rory said.
“What did Technical Specialist Spurlock do?” Lieutenant Perkins asked in a resigned tone.
“What did he do... what didn't he do!” Rory waved his hands in the air. “He could have killed all of us!”
“Rory,” Lieutenant Perkins said in a level voice, “No one on this ship was intentionally trying to kill you. If you would please explain to me what the issue is, I'll address it. If you keep having histrionics, I won't be able to fix the problem.”
“You can't just fix this kind of thing,” Rory said. “He used the wrong torsional wrench on the power conduit bolts, which meant they were too tight. I'd give it a ninety percent--”
“Hmm, fifty percent at most,” Feliks disagreed, still without looking up.
“...seventy percent chance of those bolts shattering when the main weapon systems fired, which would have caused a power disruption to the main power junction. In turn, that would have overridden the particle generator's regulator and caused it to detonate like a bomb! He did that on all four of the beam generators!”
“Ah!” Feliks said with satisfaction, “I found an error in your calculations!”
“What?” Rory spun and ripped the datapad out of Feliks's hands. “That's nonsense, there's no way I made a mistake...” he trailed off. “Huh, what do you know? I guess I was off, by a factor of ten.” His voice held shock.
“So it wouldn't destroy the ship?” Ensign Perkins asked.
“Oh, no,” Rory waved a hand, “It would have vaporized the entire ship and station. That's fascinating, I'm already seeing some implications and possibilities to deliberately build some sort of exotic particle bomb...”
“Yes,” Felix replied, “the issue would be generation and containment due to the rapid decay of the exotic particles...”
Lieutenant Perkins rolled his eyes and then signaled Tech Specialist Spurlock to come over. “Can you fix the problem?”
“Yes, sir,” the young man said. He looked both painfully young and very nervous. “I caught the issue and I just tried to get them to calibrate the torsional wrench to the right level, sir.”
“Right,” Lieutenant Perkins said. “Get it fixed and then get Petty Officer Pine to look it over.” He rubbed a hand down his face as the Tech Specialist hurried away. “Why did we get saddled with that pair...” he muttered, just loud enough that Alannis heard.
She didn't say anything. The two engineers had begun a heated argument which involved much hand-waving and finger pointing. Thank God I'm not stuck in engineering with those two, she thought. She hoped to be assigned to the tactical department or at least the navigational department. With her scores, she figured either one would be a good fit.
“Well,” Lieutenant Perkins said after a moment, “We'll just move on, I'll bring you past forward engineering next...”
***
“Well,” Captain Daniel Beeson said, “what do you think of the new officers?”
His Executive Officer sighed a bit as he sat back in his chair. “Lieutenant Busch seems pretty solid. I haven't had much of a chance to take the measure of any of our new ensigns yet... though I can't believe we got stuck with Giovanni.”
“What do you mean by that?” Daniel asked. He'd served under Lucius Giovanni as his flag captain and in several other positions. He'd actually been excited to see the Emperor's little sister was going to join their crew, particularly after seeing her graduation scores from Faraday's Military Academy.
“I'm certain we'll have some officers who should know better sucking up to her and heaven help us if she's the type to throw her civilian rank around,” Commander Bowder said.
Daniel gave his XO a look, “Have you seen any sign of that so far?”
“Well... no,” Commander Bowder responded. “But that's not to say it hasn't happened. I find it more than a little suspicious that she's got the scores she does without at least some favoritism. I mean, most officers can't help but think of her political connections and adjust their behavior.”
Daniel considered his XO for a long moment. The officer was one of the Dreyfus Fleet personnel, one who had survived Admiral Dreyfus's attempted coup and who had been cleared of any involvement.
While Admiral Dreyfus and his cabal of officers had organized a coup, the vast majority of the Dreyfus Fleet personnel had been in the dark about the conspiracy. The mutinous elements had thrown the entire fleet into disarray and left all too many good people dead. The survivors had fallen into one of three types in Daniel's experience. A small majority had simply never recovered from the betrayal. Most of them had left behind everything they knew in order to be a last defense for humanity. Admiral Dreyfus's betrayal had left them so bitter or disillusioned that many had simply left service.
Then there were a small percentage who had emerged with a new outlook. They'd seen the cost of when ambition and selfishness became the motivation of leaders. Many of them were some of the most dedicated and most enthusiastic people in uniform that Daniel had served with. Lieutenant Michele Konetsky and others like her had truly come into their own during the Dreyfus Coup and the time afterward.
The last type were like Bowder. They had come out of the Dreyfus Coup still with a desire to serve and protect humanity... but they'd had their idealism shaken to its core. It had left Richard Bowder with cynicism as his defining characteristic. Daniel Beeson had read Commander Bowder's personnel file. Commander Bowder's captain had been a member of the cabal, but when he'd ordered his crew to fire on loyalist ships, they'd mutinied. A quarter of Richard Bowder's fellow officers and crew had sided with their captain in a fight that had left a third of the crew dead. Commander Bowder had emerged as the senior surviving officer and he'd managed to lock down his ship and then use it to fire in support of other loyalist ships.
In many ways, Daniel understood the other man's cynicism having lost so much himself.
Daniel Beeson had joined Lucius Giovanni's crew as something of a lark, to thumb his nose at his father, the commander of Faraday Colony's Military Defense Forces. Yet when the Chxor had captured the planet, it meant Daniel was aboard the War Shrike and not on Faraday. Of his three brothers, two sisters, mother, father, assorted cousins, uncles and aunts who were all either in the military or closely affiliated, Daniel was the only surviving member of his family. If he hadn’t been aboard the War Shrike, he knew he’d be dead as well.
Daniel had lost everything, but he had not given into despair. The Baron had been such a symbol of optimism and hope. Lucius Giovanni had never given up, never even faltered on his mission to liberate first Faraday, then Nova Roma and other worlds along the way.
In the face of that, both working as an officer under him and now as a commander entrusted by Lucius to lead, Daniel simply couldn't contemplate giving in to cynicism or doubt. And while he could understand that Commander Bowder had, somewhat, it was certainly something that he was determined to prevent from undermining the morale of the rest of the crew.
Daniel chose his words carefully, keeping Commander Bowder's past in mind, “I don't think that the Emperor would tolerate that kind of behavior, Commander. For that matter, I don't think that General Proscia would tolerate any favoritism at the Academy.”
His XO grunted noncommittally. “Well, I certainly won't treat her any differently and I'll hammer anyone else who does, for that matter.”
“That's what I'd expect of you,” Daniel said. “Now, what do you think about initial personnel assignments?”
“Lieutenant Commander Voronkov already put claim to Ensign Medica,” Commander Bowder said. The Nova Roma ensign had branch specified for engineering. While they'd probably rotate him through some of the other departments for broadening, he was on the fast-track for engineering. Daniel wouldn't be surprised if the young man eventually transferred to Research and Development.
“Ensign Shan I'd recommend for assisting Lieutenant Cassat at sensors. She's a little weak on her sensor scores, but there's no better way to improve than working at it every day,” Commander Bowder said. “Lieutenant Busch is already slotted for communications. I'd say we put Ensign Giovanni there.”
“Comms?”
“She's from high social status and it's an area where we can monitor her actual skills before moving her on,” Commander Bowder said. He shrugged, “If she can't pull her weight, it's better to find out sooner rather than later.”
“Seems like something of a waste given her skills,” Daniel said cautiously. She had the highest rating of all their ensigns for weapons, telemetry, and already had her civilian certifications for navigation. Still, he was willing to entertain the trial run if it meant his XO felt better about her proficiency. “What about tactical department?”
“I think Ensign Yamahito,” Commander Bowder said. “Lieutenant Commander Douglass has Lieutenant Perkins for fire control and we should have Lieutenant Duchan on missile telemetry as soon as he reports. Yamahito has an acceptable rating for his telemetry, but I'd like to give him some real-world experience to go along with that.”
“Okay,” Daniel nodded. “I can go with that.” They had a nice long cruise ahead of them to rotate their new officers around with plenty of time to break them all in, so he wasn't too concerned about finding just the right fit for everyone. Breaking them in, finding their strengths and weaknesses was the key part... and it wasn't something that would happen right away.
“Has Lieutenant Thomas signed aboard yet?” Daniel asked. The Marine Lieutenant would fill out their officer component. Thomas had requested a late report date, his mother had suffered a fatal accident just two days earlier.
“Not yet,” Commander Bowder said. “Possibly sometime in the next few days.”
Daniel nodded. In truth, he wouldn't be surprised if the Marine didn't show before they departed. Daniel had lost his entire family during the Chxor occupation of Faraday, so he understood taking time for family. The last thing he wanted was for one of his officers to have something like that hanging over his head during the entire cruise.
“Okay,” Daniel said. “We'll go with what you've suggested, for now. The latest on our deployment date is still seventy-two hours. Make certain Lieutenant Monteif has everything squared away as far as extra supplies and spares for the voyage.” Their quartermaster had been tasked with stocking them up for the long journey to the Hachiman Gu system. Since it would take them almost three months to get there, plus an indeterminate time there, and another three months on the return voyage, they would be gone at least seven months.
In a newly commissioned, first-of-her-line, ship integrating a number of new technologies, he thought wryly, and we still have civilian engineers aboard. It would certainly be an interesting cruise.
***
Chapter II
UCS Constellation, Faraday System
United Colonies
June 22, 2407
“Alannis,” Ensign Scott Yamahito called out, “come commiserate with your fellow ensigns.”
Alanis shook her head as she saw him. He and Ensign Ashtar Shan sat at a table in the officer's wardroom. She nodded at Ashtar and then Scott. “Scott, I thought you were supposed to go to the Champion.”
“I was,” he replied, “I traded with Andrew Terrapin when I heard the Constellation was headed for Shogunate space.”
“Oh?” Alannis asked.
“Yeah, I have some cousins who live back there still, I might be able to meet them, depending on how long we're there,” Scott said. “Plus I'd kind of like to see where I come from, you know?”
She remembered then that Scott's parents had been refugees from the Dai Yamato system, what was now part of the Shogunate. As far as she knew, Scott hadn't shown any preference to return, until now. Beside him, Ashtar Shan rolled her eyes.
Sounds like he's got another of his wild hares to chase, Alannis thought. This wouldn't be the first time that Scott had become incredibly excited about something odd. In his time at the Faraday Military Academy he'd developed a number of odd hobbies ranging from Close Quarter Combat Competition to detailed historical military vehicle models to a variety of games.
Scott seemed to get interested, build up a serious skill level or proficiency, and then lose interest and move on. It didn't exactly surprise her that he would have changed assignments just to look into one such interest.
“Well, it's good to have you here,” Alannis said. “How are you two settling in?” She'd already talked with Ashtar since the two of them shared quarters. The female officer from the Tehran System had been on an accelerated course of instruction at the Faraday Military Academy and they'd actually become good friends and Alannis had come to appreciate the woman's abilities.
“They put me in the tactical department,” Scott said with his goofy grin. “I'm in missile telemetry, working with the Interceptor Mark Nineteens and I'm secondary lead with the new Moljnir Mark Ones and the Arrow Mark Twelves.”
“Oh,” Alannis said and forced herself to smile, “that's great.”
“Where did you end up?” Scott asked.
“She's assigned to communications,” Ashtar said before Alannis could reply.
“Oh...” Scott's face fell. “Geez, wow... uh, why'd they do that? I mean, I'm a technical type, but I thought you were on a fast-track for tactical.”
“It's an assignment,” Alannis shrugged. “It's not my business and I'm sure they'll move us around a bit.” She tried to keep the disappointment she felt out of her voice. She knew she wasn't entirely successful from how Scott shook his head.
“That's just crazy,” Scott said. “I can't believe they did that. What kind of idiot would send you to communications...”
“Ensigns,” a calm voice interrupted.
All three of them looked up to see that Lieutenant Busch stood over their table. Alannis's face went pale as she recognized the head of the communication department. “The Captain and the XO made the assignment determinations. If you have any constructive criticism, I'm sure they would both like to hear your opinions and draw from the depths of your experience.”
Alannis winced. This was hardly the way to look good for her new boss.
“Sorry, ma'am,” Scott said.
The Lieutenant ignored him and looked at Alannis. “Ensign Giovanni, there's a lot of message traffic to sort through since we're heading out. I just finished approvals for the next update packet. You need to get down to the department and verify those approvals.”
Alannis winced. She had just finished an eight hour shift already. Every ship in the Fleet updated their communications packets on the hour and they uploaded and downloaded that information by priority. Orders came through with the highest priority, personal communications with the lowest. When they left, the ansible would have only so much bandwidth, especially as they drew further away from Faraday.
While some of those priorities were easy enough, others were a bit more complicated. Maintenance reports from different departments, systems malfunctions, ammunition and fuel reserves, and dozens of other updates would wait in the queue until there was time. Prioritizing different data points over others would take both attention to detail and a great deal of time.
And most of what I'll be doing is double-checking what Lieutenant Busch already did. “Yes ma'am, I'll get right on it.” She looked down at her tray. She hadn't eaten anything yet, but she didn't want to look bad by finishing it. She stood and gave her friends nods and then hurried out.
She just hoped this wasn't an omen or something.
***
“Ma'am,” Tech Specialist Spurlock nodded at Alannis. Normally Spurlock would report to Alannis's Petty officer or Chief Petty Officer, but the communications department was still a little short on personnel and her Petty Officer hadn't reported yet. “I've got the latest updates for transfer, our update system still has the link-up issue.”
“Right,” Alannis said as he passed over the data chip. While most of the systems aboard the Constellation were fully functional, there were a few hang-ups... like the update system for the fire control system. The system itself worked fine, but the update software for the entire system didn't seem to want to talk with the maintenance and update system. Which meant taking reports in hard copy and transcribing them back to digital.
It was a mind-numbing process and Technical Specialist Steven Spurlock, as the lowest ranking member of the Tactical Division, drew the short straw.
“How are things in Tactical?” Alannis said as she uploaded the data, more to make small-talk than anything else.
Tech Specialist Spurlock looked like a deer in the headlights, “Uh, good, ma'am.”
Alannis restrained a sigh. It was one of the things about the military that annoyed her at times. The last thing Spurlock wanted to do was make small talk with an officer. Not that she could blame him. There were rules against fraternization and it was generally better to err on the side of caution.
Alannis finished transferring the data and then passed the data chip back over. “Here you are, let me know if there's any other issues.”
“Thank you, ma'am,” Spurlock said. As he turned away, Lieutenant Busch looked up from her station, “Ensign, I know you feel the need for interpersonal communications, but I'd advise you to keep that to a necessary minimum.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Alannis said. She restrained a sigh as she went back to her work. Other than two put-upon Communications Techs, it was just her and Lieutenant Busch here in the communications section. They had work stations for two petty officers and a chief petty officer, but they were still short those personnel. From what Ashtar overheard, she thought, the Fleet is having difficulty filling those slots before we depart.
Alannis leaned forward as her terminal pinged to tell her that it had finished its update. While Lieutenant Busch handled most of the high priority transmissions, it fell to her to sort the rest. First, however, she had to screen for high priority orders, since those couldn't wait in the queue.
Her eyebrows went up as she saw not just one, but two such orders in the queue. “Ma'am,” Alannis said, “High priority orders received, should I notify the Captain?”
“What?” Lieutenant Busch asked in surprise. She shook her head, “That's got to be an error in the priority system.” She looked at the two messages on her screen, “They're both flagged for his eyes only and encrypted for his biometric print... Mostly likely human error. Reflag them to moderate and just forward them on, no need to interrupt his meeting with the XO.”
“Ma'am,” Alannis said, “the Captain's standing orders clearly state that all high priority traffic should be forwarded and he should be notified immediately.”
Lieutenant Busch glared at her, “I understand the regulations and the standing orders, Ensign. While that might be the letter of the orders, it takes experience in this position to make judgments.”
“Ma’am, I understand that,” Alannis said, “but what if this is serious? If we don't pass the information along and it wasn't flagged incorrectly...”
“Fine,” Lieutenant Busch snapped, “you will notify the Captain, Ensign.”
Alannis swallowed nervously as Lieutenant Busch glared at her. The two communications techs had practically buried their heads in their consoles. Alannis activated her comm and pulled up Captain Beeson's link.
Captain Beeson appeared, “Yes, Ensign?”
“Sir,” Alannis said, “We have two high priority messages for you.”
“Thank you,” Captain Beeson said. “Let Lieutenant Busch know I'll acknowledge receipt and I'd also like her to do a general recall of crew.”
“Yes, sir,” Alannis said.
He cut the link and she looked up. Her boss had a sour expression on her face. Great, she thought, she thought the Captain would rip my head off and now she's angry at me for being right.
“Should I send the recall, ma'am?” Alannis asked in a neutral voice.
Lieutenant Busch's left eye twitched, “No, Ensign, I'll do that. I think that comm array issue Petty Officer Johnson brought up earlier needs some oversight. Go and make sure that's coming along properly.” The comm array that Petty Officer Johnson's team worked on lay aft in a narrow maintenance corridor. That section of the ship was depressurized for some calibration of other machinery, so she'd have to suit up, crawl through several narrow access shafts, all in order to “oversee” a petty officer who knew his job better than her.
She meant it as punishment, but right now there was nothing that Alannis would like better besides getting out of the compartment. “Yes, ma'am,” Alannis said. “I'll head there right now.”
***
Sanctuary Station, Faraday System
United Colonies
June 26, 2407
“Well,” Captain Daniel Beeson looked up, “it's official. The first message is orders for immediate departure and the second one frocks me as the squadron commander for the convoy.” It wasn't a complete surprise. From what Daniel had heard, the Shogunate's diplomats had pushed hard for the tech upgrades. They would soon be in the middle of a nasty fight with the Colonial Republic and they remained under a serious threat from the Balor. They needed new weapons systems, new ships, and the people and equipment to build both.
His Executive Officer grimaced, “We're supposed to get another forty personnel in tomorrow.”
“They'll be reassigned,” Daniel said with a shrug. “We're short-handed, but we'll manage.” As it was, he'd been surprised at the slow trickle of sailors to the vessel. Their entire Marine contingent had showed up, everyone but Lieutenant Thomas, but they still had only token presences in several departments.
“We'll need to do some balancing and transfers throughout the ship,” Daniel said. “If necessary, I've been authorized to pull from the Regent and Crossbow. I'd prefer not to do that since both ships are also low on personnel.” Both destroyers had small crews to begin with as well as being short of their full complements. In fact, most of the Fleet was low. Many of the Dreyfus Fleet men and women had left the military after the full extent of Admiral Dreyfus's betrayal became evident.
While the Fleet had begun to recruit to make up for those losses, the flood of new systems signing on to the United Colonies had stretched their ships and personnel very thin.
“Right, sir,” Daniel's XO made a face, “I'm pretty certain you'll say 'I told you so' but I'm going to have to recommend shuffling a few of our junior officers as a result.”
“Oh?” Daniel asked.
Commander Bowder sighed, “We need an officer with the Marines, for command authority if nothing else.” That was a vital slot. Normally a Marine Lieutenant would have that duty, as a direct representative for a ship's Captain. ““Ensign Shan is probably our best bet. She served in Tehran's resistance and has combat experience. Since we'll be short several other officers, I may pull Ensign Giovanni out of communications. Lieutenant Cassat will need help in sensors.”
Daniel nodded in reply at that. In reality, the ship could function fine with just the one officer in communications... as long as that officer had a well-trained section and knew his job well. Lieutenant Busch hadn't particularly impressed him so far, unfortunately. He knew his technical skills very well... but his personal skills left something to be desired. Daniel was willing to let his XO handle that issue... as long as it did get handled. “Very well,” Daniel said. “Let me know before you make any final changes.”
He pulled up a list of their supplies, “Now then, let's dig into our supply situation...”
***
Chapter III
UCS Constellation, Shadow Space
July 5,2407
Staff Sergeant Dawn Witzke dove through the doorway and opened up with her Nova Roma M-121 carbine. Two of the enemy went down while the third returned fire from the opposite side. Dawn cleared the doorway, though and two sharp shots from over her shoulder took him town as Corporal Arduino engaged.
She and her squad cleared the rest of the compartment and she kicked weapons away from the downed enemy as she passed, sweeping for any potential threats. “Bulldog Two Six, room is secure, moving on,” she said, even as her squad reported in.
Dawn and her entry team stacked on the next door. Close quarters combat was always hard and vicious, but the smoother her team moved, the less time it gave their enemies to respond and the less causalities they would take.
Their briefing had suggested five enemies and so far they had encountered one on outer security, the three in the previous room, and that left one more. “Breach!” Dawn shouted even as Lance Corporal Sutton detonated the breach charge. Dawn followed the blast wave in and swept for more targets.
“Trap!” One of the security team shouted from behind her just as she finished moving into the next room. A heartbeat later she heard a detonation and her heads up display showed three of her four Marine security team were down. She faltered for just a second and that was when the last enemy opened up.
The enemy rounds caught her from her left side and she felt the hard, sharp impacts, a spray of automatic fire that had to have come from a machine gun. Dawn went down and behind her, Corporal Arduino fell. Lance Corporal Sutton and Private Antio both fell a moment later.
The machine gun fell silent and Dawn grimaced as she heard Ensign Shan sigh, “Well, that could have gone better.”
Dawn waited as patiently as she could while the Ensign and the Fleet Corpsman came over and gave them antidotes for the paralytic training rounds. As the drugs cleared her system, she sat up, wincing at the bruises where the training rounds had found gaps in her armor. She glared over at the one surviving enemy. “That was a dirty trick.”
“You should be saying, 'that was a dirty trick, ma'am,'” Ensign Shan said. “And you'd be right, it was a dirty trick.”
The surviving Opposing Force member stood from behind her makeshift gun pit. The short woman wore combat armor identical to Dawn's, other than red markings to show that she was a hostile. “Well,” the officer said, “you relied on the breach charge to disorient your enemy targets in your previous engagements and speed rather than overwhelming force to bring down your targets. There was only one way in and out of this room and you'd given me just enough time to ready myself.”
Dawn grimaced, but she didn't argue. There would be a more formal after action review from the drill later on... but this was the first time her squad had failed to complete the objective. She knew training should be hard... but she hated it when she didn't win.
“What about the trap in the outer room?” Dawn asked looking back at where her security team were starting to stand up.
“One of the outer OPFOR had a suicide device, which I detonated when your men moved him,” the officer replied. “I waited to detonate it until after you came in on the breach in order to provide maximum disruption.”
Dawn bit her tongue. Suicide devices like that were rarely used by conventional forces. Then again, she supposed they should train for all contingencies. “And the machine gun?” She couldn't help but ask.
“I just modified a standard Freedom Arms M-11,” Ensign Shan replied. “Took me fifteen minutes in the machine shop. It shoots two-thousand rounds a minute, but you need a mount to steady it when you fire that way.”
Crap, Dawn thought, that's just the kind of thing some back-world insurgent could do, too. The M-11 was one of the most common rifles in the known universe, Freedom Arms made millions of the rifles and they sold to just about everyone. Clearly Ensign Shan had drawn from her personal experience.
“Thank you for your assistance, Ensign Giovanni,” Ensign Shan said. “We'll let First Squad take their run at the exercise and then we'll do a review.”
Dawn liked Staff Sergeant Grable. He was a good non-commissioned officer and she trusted him to have her back. Even so, she hoped he got reamed just as bad as she had.
***
“So,” Gunnery Sergeant Tam grunted, “What did we learn?”
“That Ensign Shan and Ensign Giovanni are conniving,” Lance Corporal Sutton muttered from behind Dawn.
“What was that Staff Sergeant?”
“Just congratulating the Ensign on an excellent training scenario, Gunny,” Sutton replied.
Dawn restrained a sigh as Gunny Tam glared at her Lance Corporal. She was going to have to bail him out of an ass-chewing. She opened her mouth to speak, but then Ensign Shan did.
“I planned that scenario from an actual event on Tehran during the Chxor occupation,” Ensign Shan said. “I purposefully used the actual name of the terrorist organization and details from the scenario in the briefing you received, so that you could do research.”
Dawn felt her stomach sink at that. She had assumed it was just another canned training scenario, using made-up names and fictional locations. That was how she'd trained under Amalgamated Worlds and later under the Dreyfus Fleet.
“The Revolutionary Islamic Brigade made extensive use of suicide bomb attacks, often followed up by small arms fire to target first responders,” Ensign Shan said. “I based the raid you conducted upon an actual raid I participated in against one of their safe houses.” She gave a tight smile, “I was on point breaching the second room.”
Dawn winced at that. Behind her, Lance Corporal Sutton raised a hand, “Ma'am, how did it turn out?”
“We sent ten personnel there to take down one of their regional commanders,” Ensign Shan said. “We did capture him, but in the process we lost five personnel, three of them to the suicide bomb attack. I was shot twice and it took some significant recovery time. Since we were operating under the radar, trying to avoid Chxor attention, I wasn't able to receive attention from a doctor for three weeks.”
Dawn nodded at that. Tehran had been unique among most human worlds in that they'd had a civil war of sorts during Chxor occupation. She hadn't heard all the details, but some of her friends had mentioned fanatical attackers who had baited the Chxor into murdering hundreds of millions of their fellow citizens in retribution. The rest of the population had turned on those fantatics and they'd fought it out, both sides trying to stay hidden from the Chxor occupiers who took any sign of violence as insurrection and criminal activity.
“So,” Ensign Shan said, “When I had Ensign Giovanni position herself where she did, I drew directly from the incident. The intention was to put you in the right mindset: research your enemies, learn their capabilities, and be ready for just about anything.”
“Thank you, ma'am,” Gunny Tam said. “Now, we'll start with Staff Sergeant Witzke's squad...”
***
“You were late to your shift,” Lieutenant Busch snapped.
Alannis looked up in surprise. “Ma'am, I volunteered to assist in the Marine training this morning. I notified you about that yesterday and I coordinated with Petty Officer Johnson.”
She realized almost instantly that she'd given her the wrong response. Her face flushed and Lieutenant Busch's eyes darted to where the single communications tech sat. Tech Specialist Peck had his head down, but there was no way he could have missed Lieutenant Busch's angry opening or Alannis's calm response.
“Forcing a non-commissioned officer to cover down on your duties is irresponsible, especially so that you can go play Marine. This is a military warship, Ensign, not your personal pleasure yacht!” Lieutenant Busch's voice had risen to a shrill shout.
“Lieutenant Busch!” a voice interrupted. Alannis looked up, surprised to see the face of the ship's Executive Officer. Commander Bowder had just come through the hatch and his face had settled into a stormy expression.
As her boss turned, Commander Bowder glared at them both. “My office, both of you, now.”
Alannis popped to her feet and she and her section chief followed the XO through the corridors. It was a long walk, and crewmen along the way stepped out of the XO's path and then gave them sympathetic looks as they followed in his wake.
“Close the hatch, Ensign,” Commander Bowder said as they came to his office. He took a seat behind his desk. “What was the meaning of that public outburst, Lieutenant?”
“Ensign Giovanni was late to her shift, sir,” Lieutenant Busch said. “Besides that, she's been insubordinate from day one and it is clear she thinks that her assignment with communications is below her.”
Alannis swallowed her immediate protest. For one thing, she didn't want to reinforce Lieutenant Busch's comment that she was “insubordinate.”
“Ensign Giovanni volunteered to assist our Marines in their training, since they're building unit cohesion for the first time as a new unit,” Commander Bowder said. “She received my approval for that training, pending her coordinating that with you and her petty officer... did she not do that?”
Lieutenant Busch flushed, “Sir, she did, but it wasn't proper for her to force Petty Officer to cover for her. Her assignment is to my department and I don't think she is putting proper weight to her duties there.”
Commander Bowder looked between them both. “Lieutenant Busch, in the future, you will keep all such disagreements in private. Never rebuke an officer in a public forum.” His gaze settled on Alannis and his eyes narrowed. “Ensign Giovanni, you are dismissed.”
“Sir,” Alannis popped to her feet. She hurried out of the room, her stomach in knots. She closed the hatch behind her and she hoped that whatever words the two were about to have in private that it wouldn't come back to make her life more difficult.
***
“I trust you resolved the situation?” Captain Daniel Beeson asked as his XO finished relating the details of the encounter he'd had with Lieutenant Busch and Ensign Giovanni.
“I had a long discussion with Lieutenant Busch after I dismissed Giovanni,” Commander Bowder said tiredly. “And while my inclination was to place the lion's share of the blame on the Ensign...” he shook his head, “that would be a disservice. A certain amount of working to appease your superior is called for, but even after the counseling session, I get the feeling that Lieutenant Busch isn't going to let things rest.”
“Any idea why?” Daniel asked. He still didn't have a good feel for his communications officer, but he had some suspicions.
“Lieutenant Busch knows the technical side of operations,” Commander Bowder said. “But I don't think she has a good feel for the personnel side. I'd say it was a blind spot or weakness, but it almost feels like she doesn't want to improve. I've discussed it with Chief Davis. He says the petty officers in her department aren't about to complain openly, but...” He shrugged. “It sounds like she's a spiteful sort, quick to correct someone and if she's wrong, she throws her rank into the mix to force her subordinates to back down.”
That's what I was afraid of, Daniel thought. Lieutenant Busch had just come from an assignment with Research and Development. She had a glowing review for her technological background. Her previous assignment, though, had been aboard a Fleet Resupply Ship, the Belgrade.
While she had a good review from that command, if Daniel remembered correctly, the Belgrade's Captain had been relieved of command after the Dreyfus Coup for gross incompetence. Lieutenant Busch might well have excellent potential, but her first assignment may have soured her or even ruined her career entirely.
That's the problem, he thought sadly, one bad command can destroy an officer. If that was the case, it might be best to ensure that this was Lieutenant Busch's final assignment. The Fleet didn't need officers with toxic leadership and for all of her technical ability, the Fleet could do without her services if she was beyond redemption.
Still personnel was the main purvey of the ship's Executive Officer and Daniel wasn't about to undercut his authority. “So, what do you intend to do about it?”
“I think no matter how much I work with Lieutenant Busch, the well is already poisoned between her and Ensign Giovanni,” Commander Bowder said. “It's just as well, I suppose, as we discussed before, Lieutenant Commander Douglass is short-handed at Tactical so I'll transfer her there.” His XO gave a slight cough, “I have to say, I've been impressed with her performance so far. I've only seen one attempt to curry favor and she shot that down admirably. I think putting her to the test would be good for her development.”
“What about her volunteer time training with the Marines?” Daniel asked.
Commander Douglass gave a slight smile, “While I understand she signed up for that under a lighter workload, I think it would be good for her to try to balance a heavier training workload against her additional duties.”
Daniel returned the smile. The best way to develop young officers was to push them hard. Busy officers rarely found time to get in trouble. “Sounds good. Keep me updated with Lieutenant Busch. If you need me to get involved...”
“I'll let you know, sir,” Commander Bowder said. He scowled as he considered it, not that Daniel blamed him. If Daniel needed to become involved, then it would mean that Lieutenant Busch wouldn't respond to the XO's efforts. That itself would probably mean she was beyond redemption.
“Now,” Daniel said, “Let's discuss the next set of ships drills. I want to push all departments, feel them out and develop where their weak spots are, so we can hammer those in the following set.”
“Excellent, sir,” Commander Bowder grinned. “I have a few ideas we can try out.”
***
“Ensign,” Lieutenant Forrest Perkins said with a nod as his newest charge entered the department office. “Thanks for meeting me before my shift. With our work schedule, this is the only time I could fit your counseling session in.” Though if he ever thought he'd be doing an initial counseling on the Emperor's little sister, he'd be darned.
“Not a problem, sir,” Ensign Giovanni said. She met his gaze with a solid expression of her own, not much of a surprise considering what he'd read about her background as soon as the XO told her she'd be transferring to his section. She looked a good deal like her brother, much shorter than his own one hundred and eighty centimeters and with the same olive skin and dark, curly hair, though hers was quite a bit longer than her brother's, though still within regulation. She's a pretty one, he thought, which isn't something I should notice.
“Now,” Forrest said. “I want to get several things out in the open before we start working together. First off, you might have heard that I'm originally from Saragossa.” The colony had been on the edge of human space, equidistant with Nova and the Chxor Empire. It was now a member of the United Colonies... but once upon a time it had been a powerful star nation of its own. “Just so you know, I lost family just after the Nova Roma Empire raided the system. Then again, every Saragossan lost somebody. That said, I'm not about to hold your background against you. I know you weren't behind the policy that sacrificed us to turn the Chxor's attention elsewhere.”
Though if I ever do serve with an officer who had some role in that, he thought, I'm probably going to have to request reassignment. He had been aboard a civilian merchant ship during the attack, far from home. He'd been there for the aftermath, though, and he'd seen millions of his countrymen die as a result.
“All that in mind, I've also served under your brother as his flag lieutenant,” Forrest said. “And before you even think it, I'm not going to let that affect how you work with me. I respect your brother, but I know he's not the sort to play favorites and I'm not about to do that either.” He held her gaze until she gave him a nod. She didn't flinch or frown, either, so it was clear she hadn't expected him to show her any favors. Good, Forest thought, not that I expected her to act like a spoiled princess, but it is good to get a feel for her.
“Now then, I don't know if Lieutenant Busch did an initial counselling with you in communications and I don't really care.” Personally, Forrest had not been impressed with Lieutenant Busch, but he wasn't about to say that to her former subordinate. “The purpose of this is to tell you your duties and responsibilities. From here I'll show you your station and introduce you to your section. I'm certain you've seen some of our maintenance reports in communications as we send them out. While we're operational, there's still a lot of little kinks to work out.”
“Like the maintenance update synch, sir?” Ensign Giovanni asked.
Forrest nodded, “Exactly that. We have a dozen new systems, hardware and software, that aren't talking together the way they should. It's like that throughout the ship, and we've got civilian engineers like Rory and Feliks working on those systems, sometimes while we're using them for a drill. So I expect you to be flexible.”
“Yes, sir,” she nodded.
“Lieutenant Commander Douglass heads up the tactical department and he'll be your senior rater,” Forrest said. What that means for you is that he'll expect you to do your job and he's not going to be dealing with you directly, unless you're on shift and I'm not. So if we're doing a drill during the late shift and I'm not here yet, you'll be implementing his firing orders until I come online. Same for if we're in battle, of course.”
They'd do a hand-off if they had time, but under combat situations, the man – or woman – on the spot would retain their position until the incoming officer had time to be fully briefed.
“Now,” Forrest said, “I know I gave you the full tour, so we won't go too much into the physical locations.” Besides, if she hadn't already climbed everywhere on the ship she could in her off-time, then there wasn't much hope for her. That was the first thing any good officer did: familiarize themselves with everything they could. “We have the front and rear Exotic Particle Cannons, or EPCs, a battery of four at each.” The heavy weapons were the equivalent of what Emperor Lucius Giovanni's battleship, the War Shrike, had mounted. Except the War Shrike had mounted a total of four of the weapons, in sponsons designed to fire forward and to the sides. The Constellation mounted eight in total, with a phased array bank that could, in theory, fire in all directions. With the projectors mounted internal to the hull, they should also be more survivable.
“Here in fire control we also have responsibility for the pulse cannons,” Forrest said. “Up until now, my primary focus has been there, with missile and fighter interception. I've discussed it with Lieutenant Commander Douglass, and we'll slot you there as primary, which will let me focus on the EPCs, so that Lieutenant Commander Douglass can look a bit more at the big picture.”
“Yes, sir,” Ensign Giovanni grinned. Clearly the idea of manning guns got her excited. Me too, Forrest thought, the bigger the better.
“Now then, we're still developing the full manual, but I've transferred a draft to your account. I'd like you to review it...”
***
UCS Constellation, Shadow Space
September 3, 2407
“Adjust fire,” Alannis snapped as the enemy missile flight died. “New target priorities coming up.” She felt sweat bead her forehead as her fingers flew across her console. Lieutenant Commander Douglass had just uploaded targeting priorities for an inbound flight of fighters.
Alannis's problem was that half of the inbound fighters were bombers... and she had to pick those ones out from the damaged sensor data. It was one part guess-work and another part intuition and she selected the priority based off that, even as she engaged the weapons systems. The phased array banks along the Constellation's hull realigned, the semi-solid crystalline gel within reconfiguring at her commands... just as the pulse cannons opened up.
The enemy strike squadrons reacted instantly to the incoming fire, but a half dozen of them died before they could evade. Hopefully those were the bombers rather than the screening fighters.
I'll know in a second or two, she thought as the enemy fighters swept through the final defensive fire.
At least a couple of the enemy bombers must have survived, because a moment later her console flashed with damage error codes. “We've lost forward fire control,” Alannis said. She was glad this was a drill, else that would mean almost thirty personnel were dead or wounded. “Reconfigure rear fire control to use our forward arrays,” she announced.
She saw Petty Officer Muna bark out commands. A moment later, Tech Specialist Spurlock dove under her chair and opened a control panel under her console. Even as she queued up targets for the rear pulse cannons, he was resetting circuits within the console to bypass commands from the forward fire control so that her rear beam generators could push to the forward arrays.
“Forward systems up,” Petty Officer Muna called out a moment later.
Yet there were no more targets on her screen. The surviving fighters had withdrawn out of range and it looked as if Ensign Scott Yamahito had eliminated the enemy missile platforms at range.
“End-Ex,” Captain Beeson said over the ship's intercom. “All exercise personnel, end of exercise. Return to normal operations and reset all damage control.”
Alannis gave a sigh and sat back. Tech Specialist Spurlock crawled out from under her console, “Sorry about that, ma'am.”
“Not a problem, thanks for getting that online,” Alannis said. She hadn't really noticed him diving under her feet, she'd just continued working at firing solutions. “Need me to move out of your way while you reset everything?”
“If you don't mind, ma'am,” Spurlock said. “The bypass is easy enough, undoing it takes a lot more work, though.”
She stepped away from her station while he set to work.
“Good job, Ensign,” Lieutenant Commander Douglass said from behind her. She spun in surprise, “Thank you, sir.”
“No, thank you, Ensign,” Lieutenant Perkins said with a smile, “If not for the damage we took, I would have said you nailed all of the enemy bombers. Not bad for the little bit of targeting data you had. As it is, I wouldn't be surprised if the XO cheated a little bit.”
“Sir?” Alannis asked in surprise. This was supposed to be their last major drill before they arrived at the Hachiman Gu system. The heavy drill schedule had been exhausting, but at the same time Alannis had finally felt like she was really being challenged. It shocked her to think that the XO would cheat, though.
“Got to exercise the damage control crews, right?” Lieutenant Perkins said with a wink. “Besides, in an exercise like this, if you ain't cheatin' then you ain't trying.”
“Exactly, Lieutenant,” a voice said from the forward hatch. The XO had just stuck his head inside. “In fact, Lieutenant Perkins is correct, you took out the entire bomber squadron, which is why I did have to 'cheat' in order to give our damage control crews some proper exercise.”
Alannis stood a bit taller at that praise.
“And excellent job to you, as well, Lieutenant Perkins. Lieutenant Commander Douglass will do the full after action review for your department, but I don't think he'll mind me telling you that you had a ninety percent hit rate against the enemy ships.”
Alannis's eyes went wide at that. The Academy taught that a seventy percent hit rate was the generally accepted standard of quality. An eighty percent hit rate in a full drill like they had participated in was noteworthy enough to receive commendation on an evaluation.
The reasoning behind that was plain enough. Space was big. Fire Control officers had to hit small targets at incredible ranges with data that was often as much as fifteen seconds out of date by the time they applied it. They had enormous resources from targeting computers to stored profiles and even the best predictive software that the United Colonies could produce... but at the end of the day, it became more of an art than a science.
Apparently Lieutenant Perkins had begun to master that art.
“Now, before you both get inflated heads,” the XO growled, “there is still plenty of room for improvement. Your response time is barely acceptable and I don't want to get started with some of the maintenance issues I still keep seeing.”
“Of course, sir,” Lieutenant Perkins said with a demure voice. “We'll get to work on those issues right away.”
“Good,” the XO nodded. “See you at the after action review.”
To Lieutenant Perkins' credit, he waited until the XO closed the hatch to spin, “Woohoo!” He crowed, “Ninety percent! Chief Petty Officer Dulleto, when we hit port, I'm buying drinks!”
***
Hachiman Gu System
The Shogunate
September 9, 2407
The Hachiman-Gu system was the central system of the Shogunate. Now an official star nation of its own, the Shogunate had been a collection of systems under the Colonial Republic... until their titular ruler had made his alliance official with the United Colonies and split off from the Colonial Republic.
Alannis had read up on both the Shogunate and its leader. Hachiman-Gu was the capitol system, but it wasn't the only or even the most significant historical colony of the new nation. In fact, Dai Yamato was still the “spiritual” capital of the nation. That colony had been the first system settled by colonists from Old Earth's Japan. They'd brought with them one of their princes, who became their new Emperor... and after the sacking of Earth, he and his family became the spiritual leaders for the other Japanese colonies.
Under the Colonial Republic, none of the systems had done well. All three of the core systems had been conquered at one time or another and the notorious infighting within the Colonial Republic had been particularly savage in that part of space.
At some point, someone had brought in mercenaries to back their play for conquest and that was where things had actually improved. The mercenary commander had managed to handily defeat most of his opponents in battle and had talked his employer into allowing him to integrate those forces into an overall alliance. After the death of his employer, by all indications to natural causes, that mercenary commander had continued on to unify the entire region and had made it one of the more stable military sectors of the Colonial Republic.
The Shogun had considerable military expertise and his notional allegiance to their Emperor brought him an air of legitimacy that the predominantly Japanese culture could respect.
All that said, he was still a warlord. To say that her brother was entirely comfortable with the Shogun as an ally would be an overstatement.
Alannis kept all that in mind as the Constellation's shuttle number two settled to the guest landing pad at Castle Yamamoto. She waited while the senior officers at the front of the shuttle stood. Captain Beeson's gaze went back along the compartment and seemed to zero in on her. “Princess, I believe you should be in the initial greeting party.”
Crap, Alannis thought. She had wanted to avoid as much official attention as possible. That would have been far more likely as one more ensign. It wasn't likely at all as (Technically) Princess Alannis Giovanni.
“Yes, sir,” Alannis said. She straightened her uniform once more and hurried up to the front of the shuttle to stand uncomfortably next to the XO. She knew how to do the noblewoman routine. She knew how to do the junior officer role in an official function. Mixing the two was something new for her. Might as well pick it up, she thought, it'll be a fixture of my life for the foreseeable future.
Captain Beeson led the way down the ramp. A set of officials guided them off the pad and directly into a gathering hall inside Castle Yamamoto.
A small host of Shogunate officers and notables awaited them. Alannis recognized the Shogun himself fairly quickly. He had a sort of electric charisma about him and she could see almost instantly how all of his officers seemed to move in relation to him. He's definitely got presence, she thought.
“Presenting Captain Daniel Beeson,” someone announced as they entered. “Commander of the UCS Constellation.”
The Shogun greeted her Captain with a handshake and a polite bow. They also spoke briefly, but in the crowd, Alannis couldn't make out what was said.
“Commander Bowder, Executive Officer for the UCS Constellation.”
Alannis felt her heart race a bit as the XO went forward. Here she was, nervous as she never had been as a noble. Then again, Lucius had always been the Baron... and they had both always been social pariahs to the rest of Nova Roma's nobility. Their family's estates had passed on to her when Lucius accepted the title of Emperor of Nova Roma. When the United Colonies Parliment had ratified that promotion, he'd become the Emperor of the United Colonies as well.
Now here I am, sister to the Emperor of the most powerful human nation in space, she thought to herself. Don't screw this up, she thought.
“Princess Alannis Giovanni,” the voice announced.
She stepped forward and very nearly tripped over her feet. She managed to extend her hand for the Shogun to shake in a motion that felt robotic.
“I always hate these formal functions,” the Shogun said in a cultured voice, with no trace of the accent she had expected. “I live in constant fear that I'll have to scratch my nose at the wrong time and start a war.”
That startled a smile out of her. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” the Shogun replied. “Given the Baron's... I'm sorry, your Emperor's military career, I expect much of you, Madam.” He gave her a slight bow and then, without realizing it, Alannis had been passed off to the next notable in the receiving line.
After what seemed like several hundred handshakes later, she found herself near the bar and sipping at a drink she didn't remember taking.
“Quite the presence, eh?” A familiar voice spoke up. Alannis looked up and saw Lieutenant Perkins had worked his way through the crowd. His scarecrow frame should have looked ridiculous in the formal dress uniform, but he actually cut quite the sharp figure. I shouldn't notice that about my superior, she told herself.
She distracted herself by looking at his awards. She blinked a bit at both the variety and number. As a Lieutenant, she wouldn't have expected him to have quite the display that he did. He quirked a smile as he caught her gaze. “Comparing medals is a long and storied tradition,” he said reassuringly.
One of the Shogunate officers nearby spoke up, “Greetings, I am Kaigun Motogami. I do not wish to interrupt, but I heard you discussing awards, and I wondered if I might ask questions?”
“Of course, sir,” Lieutenant Perkins said. He'd picked out that Kaigun was the equivalent rank of Captain. “We're all here to socialize and familiarize ourselves with one another.” He gave a friendly smile, “We're allies, after all.”
“Yes, of course,” Kaigun Motogami responded. He looked between them, “I understand that both of you are rather junior officers, yet you both have numerous medals. Are these... I am sorry, the word I think is: peace time awards?”
“Well,” Lieutenant Perkins said, “something I should probably explain is that the United Colonies Fleet has personnel from four major nations as well as a dozen minor colonies.” He glanced at Alannis, “Ensign Alannis comes from Nova Roma, and while she never served under the Nova Roma Empire, we have many personnel who did. Then there are others like our Executive Officer who served under Amalgamated Worlds Fleet.” He shrugged, “I served in the reserves for the Saragossa Defense Forces. So to be honest, we have a variety of peace and wartime awards, some of which I honestly don't even recognize.”
“Ah,” Kaigun Motogami nodded, “I had noticed a large variety and that puzzled me, we have only a small number of awards.”
“Right,” Lieutenant Perkins said. He pointed at his own awards, “The United Colonies is headed that way, but we still want those who have earned awards with their former nations to be able to wear them with pride... so we have a variety. Generally combat awards, regardless of origin nation, are above peacetime awards. Something we also do is present awards for unique campaigns. For instance, I have a Liberation of Nova Roma medal, since I was present during combat operations to free the system.” Lieutenant Perkins pointed at the award, one of the highest, Alannis noticed.
“I see,” Kaigun Motogami said with a nod. “A fierce fight, I understand. Tell me, what is the one above it?”
“Oh,” Lieutenant Perkins flushed, “that's the award for the Battle of Melcer Station... with a star for valor.”
“Apologies, I have not heard of this battle,” Kaigun Motogami said. The crowd of Shogunate officers had grown and Alannis saw attention on their faces. Evidently war stories got a lot of attention around here. “You seem junior in rank to have seen so many battles.”
“Well,” Lieutenant Perkins turned deeper red, “I was actually not a member of the Fleet during the battle. I was a prisoner, aboard a Chxor mining ship.”
“I have heard of these ships,” another Shogunate officer said with a nod. “They are small, poorly equipped, yes?”
“Right,” Lieutenant Perkins said. “A small mining laser and a tractor beam. No defense screen, a fusion drive, and enough environmental equipment so you don't quite suffocate.”
“You survived during the battle to receive this award, then?”
“Well...” Lieutenant Perkins shrugged, “I commanded the mining ship and led a squadron of them to attack the Chxor dreadnought squadron when the Baron, that is, the Emperor, attacked the system.” He looked more than a little self-conscious. “I tractored an asteroid along a collision course with a Chxor Ten-class Dreadnought.”
“You...” Kaigun Motogomi seemed uncertain if he had heard correctly.
Alannis herself wasn't certain that the Lieutenant was being quite honest. “Sir, how exactly did that work out?”
“Oh, I destroyed the dreadnought. The collision was at high enough speeds that the entire ship disintegrated.” His face turned grim, “And the Chxor fired at my vessel and the other rebellious slave miners. There were a dozen ships and around thirteen hundred personnel... and only thirty-nine of us survived.”
Kaigun Motogomi nodded at Ensign Ashtar Shan who had come to join the group, “And you... Ensign? What of your awards?”
She pointed at her awards, “These three awards are for combat service on three separate occasions. All three were ground combat, two against terrorist groups on Tehran and the third against one of the Chxor command centers during the liberation of my planet.”
The Shogunate officers seemed surprised. One of them turned to Alannis, “And you?”
“I only have two campaign awards,” Alannis said cautiously. In fact, she felt embarrassed to mention them. “I obtained the first as a civilian during my part in the escape from Nova Roma. I piloted Emperor Romulus IV's shuttle and then piloted a destroyer out of the system while we took fire from the Chxor task forces and defense stations.” She cleared her throat, “The second was during the Dreyfus Coup,” she pointed at that award, “I piloted an assault shuttle during the counterattack, while I was still a cadet. Admiral Dreyfus had nominal control over many of the ships and he ordered them to fire on the attacking shuttles.”
“I see,” Kaigun Motogomi said. He set his drink down on the bar and then pointed at one of his ribbons, “This is my combat decoration, my unit and I encountered a small pirate force last year where we engaged and destroyed them.”
His voice seemed subdued. Alannis hoped that she and the other United Colonies officers hadn't dreadfully offended him or the other Shogunate officers.
“It seems that some of the stories we have heard of your battles are not exaggerations,” Kaigun Motogomi said. “I give you praise, you all have the spirit of Samurai.”
One of the older officers stepped forward and pressed a drink into Lieutenant Perkins' hands. “That means you are a true warrior!” Alannis didn't recognize the man's rank, but it was probably a fair guess that he was senior.
“Thank you, sir,” Lieutenant Perkins said. He looked awkwardly down at the drink in his hand and managed a smile. That's right, she thought, he doesn't drink alcohol. He'd mentioned that before, but she didn't know his reasons. He probably didn't want to explain them in front of this crowd.
Alannis lifted her own drink, “We have a toast, a military tradition. We drink for our absent companions, those who fought and died for the rest of us.” The officers around her stood a little straighter at her words. “To absent companions.”
“To absent companions!” Over a dozen voices echoed her words.
Alannis thought back to the men, women, and children who had died during the escape from Nova Roma. She thought of the classmates who had died during the Dreyfus Coup... and about the many, many men and women who had perished fighting the Balor and the Chxor.
Here's to hoping the fighting is past us, Alannis thought, though if she'd believed that, she wouldn't have volunteered. There were any number of threats still out there. The Chxor Empire had fallen apart but there were still warlords within who sought to conquer humanity. The Balor were still a threat too, for that matter, though Lucius's defeat of them had knocked them on the defensive.
And there's plenty of humans who are perfectly willing to conquer their fellow man, she reminded herself. It was a rough universe... and Alannis wore the uniform to protect the people and ideals she cared about.
***
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the Shogun said, his voice amplified to reach the entire chamber. “Today we are gathered to celebrate our alliance. Already we have received a dozen ships and now our allies have gifted us with the technology to build advanced ships of our own. With this, we will finally rise...”
He trailed off and Alannis noticed him cock his head, his eyes going narrow. She couldn't make out an earbud, but she would guess he had one, either that or a comm implant.
A moment later she saw Captain Beeson look down at his comm. When he looked up, he signaled his officers towards the doors.
“It seems we have some uninvited guests,” the Shogun said. His officers had begun to move quickly towards the doors as well. The Shogun's face had a grim expression, as if the news he had received was not favorable. Shadow Lords or something equally bad? That was one of the concerns with the technology transfer: that someone powerful would attempt to seize it and the engineers here to train the Shogun's people in its use.
Alannis fell in beside Lieutenant Perkins as the officers from the Constellation gathered just by the ramp to their shuttle. “Commander Gantry of the Regent reports that a battlecruiser just arrived in the system,” Captain Beeson said. “We don't yet have an identity on the class, but odds are that it is either of Centauri Confederation or sent here by the Shadow Lords.”
The entire group went quiet at that. President Spiridon of the Centauri Confederation wasn't actively hostile to the United Colonies, but that was only because he didn't have enough popular support yet for an active war. In Confederation space his ships constantly harassed United Colonies merchant ships and there was a travel ban for all United Colonies military personnel.
Outside of the United Colonies, the Centauri Confederation had the best level of technology in human space. That edge was something that President Spiridon would be eager to erode... and this tech shipment would do just that for him.
The Shadow Lords would be even worse, Alannis thought to herself. Powerful psychics who acted as pirates and warlords, the Shadow Lords had looted entire star systems. They seemed to hate what her brother had built and there had been considerable probing from them over the past couple years.
“It isn't safe to launch the shuttle just yet, their ship might be able to shoot us down. As soon as the Shogunate launches their shuttles, we'll slip up there with them. In the meantime, I want everyone on-board and ready to go. Once we reach the Constellation, I want every one of you to move straight to your stations and ready for battle.”
“Yes, sir!” they rumbled back.
Captain Beeson nodded at that and Alannis saw him smile. “Good. Now, get ready!”
They rushed to their seats, just as the first Shogunate shuttle took off in a roar.
***
Chapter IV
Hachiman-Gu System
The Shogunate
September 5, 2407
Alannis rushed to her console even as she stuffed herself into her ship's suit. She tried not to think about the damage her formal dress uniform had taken when she'd ripped it off and thrown it on the floor in her quarters in her hurry to ready herself.
“Status?” Alannis asked as she strapped herself in.
“Lieutenant Commander Douglass has us at weapon's ready but no orders to fire, Ma’am,” Petty Officer Muna said. “Word is that the ship hasn't moved since it arrived.”
She forced herself to think and to take everything in as she looked over her displays. The flat screens had some depth to them, but nowhere near the capabilities of a larger terminal. That was mostly to save space, she knew.
Still, she could read the tactical situation well enough. The Shogunate Fleet had marshaled a substantial in response to the interloper. She counted at least seven of the old Independence-class cruisers and at least fifteen destroyers, along with four of the new Katana-class frigates that the United Colonies had sold them.
The unknown battlecruiser hung in high orbit over the planet, weapons, sensors, and defense screens active. A purple halo still flashed around it and Alannis frowned at that. “We still don't have an ID from sensors?”
“No, ma'am,” Petty Officer Muna said. “It doesn't match any of our target parameters. They're trying to put together a capabilities estimate now.”
“Right,” Alannis said. “Well, I'm online and briefed, I now have the auxiliary fire station, Petty Officer.”
A moment later, the intercom crackled to life, “Ensign Giovanni, report to the bridge.”
Alannis sighed, “Never mind, Petty Officer Muna, I think you'll have to retain control.”
She unstrapped and then hurried out of the compartment. Primary Fire Control lay only two decks down from the bridge so it only took her a minute to arrive at the bridge, her helmet under her arm.
Captain Beeson looked over at her as she arrived, “Ensign, it seems we're in need of you in your role as Princess.”
“Sir?” Alannis asked in confusion. While the title meant something back on Nova Roma, she didn't really have any political power in the United Colonies. At most, she had the ear of her brother. What that amounted to, she couldn't really say.
She followed the Captain's gaze to the main screen. A big, alien face stared back at her. It took her a long moment to recognize the brown hide and cat-like head as that of a Ghornath.
“Princess Alannis Giovanni?” The Ghornath asked. His brown hide had shaded slightly tan. If Alannis remembered her brother's stories right, that meant he was probably just as surprised as she was.
“Yes, Strike Leader Burbeg, this is Emperor Giovanni's sister.”
The alien peered at her, his mirror-like eyes unreadable. “You have the ability to speak for your brother, in his absence?” Strike Leader Burbeg demanded.
“I may...” Alannis said hesitantly. “At the least, I can hear what you have to say and relay it directly to him.”
“No!” Burbeg all but shouted. “Do not transmit anything by ansible. We have recently learned that such transmissions are not secure!”
Alannis rocked back at that. She glanced at Captain Beeson, whose eyes had gone wide. Until now, every nation had operated under the impression that due to the nature of ansible transmission projection through shadow space, that all such transmissions were secure.
She glanced at the communications icon in the corner and realized that they were transmitting and receiving only via laser, which meant no one should be able to intercept their communications.
“Sir,” Alannis said in a low voice, “have we told the Shogunate to stand down?”
He gave her a sharp look, but he nodded, “Good idea, Ensign. We wouldn't want them getting jumpy. “One moment, Strike Leader, I'll notify the Shogunate Fleet that you are friendly.”
“Captain Daniel,” Burbeg said, “I implore you, tell them no more than necessary. The news I carry, the information I have, thousands have died for it.”
“Of course,” Captain Beeson said. He switched channels and then went into privacy mode while the talked with the Shogunate officers. Alannis stood nervously. What was Burbeg doing here? She knew that he had served with her brother for a time. For that matter, she knew that her brother suspected the Ghornath had some kind of hidden shipyard or base.
That was more than most of the rest of humanity knew. The Ghornath home system, Ghornath Prime, had been raided and looted by the Nova Roma Empire over forty years previously. It had subsequently been conquered by the Chxor, who then proceeded on a genocidal campaign which left the life-bearing worlds uninhabitable. Since the Ghornath had only ever had the one system… that meant most of their surviving species were refugees.
Many of those refugee camps, spread across dozens of star systems, survived on the barest of margins. Anyone claiming that they had some kind of hidden shipyard and base capable of producing state of the art warships would be mocked. Yet here they are, with a battlecruiser that doesn't match any of our records, she thought.
Captain Beeson finished his private call and gave Alannis a look, “Whatever this business is, the Shogun is not happy that 'our' guest tripped half his warning systems and has him standing up his reserve forces. I somehow think that our diplomats will have to give him a bit more on this technology transfer just to keep him happy.”
“Sir,” Alannis said as neutrally as possible. She didn't really know why she was here... other than the fact that Lucius was her brother. Presumably Burbeg had asked for her... but why?
“Strike Leader,” Captain Beeson said as he opened up the communications channel again. “We've obtained a brief window do discuss what brings you here. Would you like to come aboard...”
“Captain Daniel,” Burbeg said, “We have served together and I value your friendship and wisdom... but these matters are of the utmost importance. I ask that you come aboard. Please bring Baroness Giovanni, as well.”
Alannis saw Captain Beeson cock his head, clearly unsettled. Could this be some kind of kidnapping attempt, she wondered, but if so, Burbeg must know that Lucius wouldn't give him anything. Her brother had dealt very harshly with kidnappers before. Besides, it didn't fit what she had heard about the Ghornath officer.
“I will come, Strike Leader,” Captain Beeson said. “Do you have any other requests?”
“Yes,” Burbeg nodded, “ready your ship for war.”
***
Alannis wasn't quite ready for the harsh metallic scent of the Ghornath ship. The honor guard who welcomed her and Captain Beeson saluted. Her eyes went wide as she saw that a squad of them wore powered armor. From what she knew, it took a tremendous effort to keep human powered armor operational... to the point that the United Colonies only bothered to do so on ships with a battalion size element. Furthermore, each suit cost almost as much as a combat shuttle.
Seeing the Ghornath with a new ship was one thing, seeing them field twelve suits of over-sized powered armor was another thing entirely.
“Captain Daniel,” Burbeg said, “I am glad you came. Baroness Giovanni, I am glad you can be here for your brother.”
“Sir,” Alannis nodded, feeling out of her depth.
“Follow me,” Burbeg said as he led them out of the hangar bay. Alannis looked around and she quickly noticed a number of signs that the ship was not only of new construction, but that it had recently seen combat. Along several of the corridors they passed Ghornath at work on repairs. “You've seen combat?” Captain Beeson asked.
“We have,” Burbeg said. The big, eight-limbed alien led the way into a conference room. Like the rest of the ship, it made Alannis feel tiny. Some helpful soul had put two human-sized chairs next to the table, but those didn't change the fact that everything on the ship was built for three-meter-tall centauriod aliens.
“What I tell you now, I ask that you do not allow outside of those you must tell,” Burbeg said. “My crew and ship were part of a fleet, a fleet we have spent the past ten years constructing.”
Alannis's eyebrows went up at that, “Wait, an entire fleet of ships like this?”
Captain Beeson gave her a sharp look, but Burbeg didn't seem to mind the question, “Yes, a secret fleet. Built for one task: to discover the Ghornath homeworld.”
Burbeg said that with such seriousness that Alannis could only stare at him in confusion.
Apparently, she wasn't the only one, “Burbeg,” Captain Beeson said, “I thought that the Chxor conquered the Ghornath homeword.”
“No!” Burbeg slammed one of his huge fists down on the conference table and the big piece of metal bounced a bit from the impact. His hide had flushed red and Alannis realized that the big alien could easily smash the both of them with his bare hands. And to think I listened to the Captain and left my pistol, she thought.
“My apologies,” Burbeg said after a moment. “I am distraught over what has happened, I should have better control.” His hide returned to a neutral brown color and he spoke slowly, “You have heard of what humans refer to as the Eckard Paradox?”
“I have,” Alannis said quickly. When she saw her Captain's confusion, she spoke up, “Brooke Eckard was a xenobiologist who obtained permission to study on Ghornath Prime just after Amalgamated Worlds discovered them.” She thought back to the classes she vaguely remembered, back when she had still held out hope that she might be able to charter a ship and go exploring... before she realized that the authorities of Nova Roma would never have tolerated that. Well, she thought, joke's on them, here I am and they all died under Chxor occupation... “She took a lot of notes, but one thing that stood out to her was that besides the Ghornath and two of their domesticated species, the Drothir and the Roon, there weren't any other octopedal species on Ghornath Prime.”
Burbeg nodded, “It is something that our leaders did not expect her to notice. In fact, it is something that most of my people have ignored or been encouraged to ignore... until now.” He brought up a projector which lit up a section of star systems. At the center was Ghornath Prime, just to the galactic south of it was the former military outpost at Gebranyr, and then the handful of other systems, many labeled with unknown markers.
Some had been conquered by the Chxor Empire, such as Ghornath Prime and Gebranyr, Alannis knew. The latest she had heard from her brother was that most of those worlds had been abandoned by the Chxor. There was little of interest to them in that area, they'd mostly conquered it as a method to cut off support for Nova Roma from the southern regions of human space.
Granted, she thought, about half the Chxor worlds are now our allies... more or less. Some of the Chxor systems had even applied for membership within the United Colonies, though there were quite a few humans who opposed that.
As she watched, two systems that lay beyond Gebranyr began to flash. The first was Iota Persei and the second was Gamma Serpentis. “What few of even my own people knew,” Burbeg said, “was that Ghornath artifacts have been found in both of these systems. This ties back to some of our ancient legends and stories... stories about what we call the Sacred Stars.”
Alannis sat back. Her first impulse was to ask what this had to do with their presence here and the damage the ship had taken... but she didn't see a polite way to do that. A glance at Captain Beeson showed a patient expression on his face.
“We have always had legends,” Burbeg said softly. “About the Protectors, about the Sacred Stars. From the surface of Ghornath Prime, you can see them, a constellation, a beacon which has always been the symbol of our Emperors.” His hide flushed blue, “I thought it was just that, a symbol and legend... until Fleet Consul Faydeb told me the truth.”
“The truth?” Alannis asked.
Burbeg gave a nod, his cat-like ears laid back and his hide turning a deeper shade of blue. “The legends said that in ancient times, the Protectors discovered our race. They worked hard to defend us, so that there was but one path to our world: through the Gates of Hallidas.”
A binary star system appeared, it floated, disconnected and far from the other stars on the star map. “Beyond the Gates, there are five other systems,” Burbeg said. “The Wastes of Argolim, the Forge of Angrahad, the Gardens of Maar, the Fields of Targonis, and the Throne of Kopal Pesh.” Burbeg's deep voice went soft, “These are the Sacred Stars, a place of myth, the origins of my species.”
“But,” Alannis asked, “who are these Protectors? Why would your people leave... and if they did, why wouldn't you go back?”
Burbeg shook his head, “These are questions I asked. We only have bits and pieces. The royal family, they guarded and kept that knowledge, we only have the few pieces that others held and fragments of religion and myth.” His head hung low, “When the Nova Romans killed the Emperor, we lost the keys to put it all together.”
“I am sorry,” Captain Beeson said.
“It is not your fault, Captain Daniel,” Burbeg said softly. “Nor, Princess, is it yours or the fault of your brother... Strike Commander Maygar taught me this.” He gave a heavy sigh and his hide returned to a more neutral tone. “The details of what we have pieced together can wait for another day. What we believe is that those systems would be home to our race, that our refugees and warriors could return there, rebuild our civilization there.”
“So that's why you built a fleet?” Alannis asked.
“Indeed,” Burbeg said. “And we went to Gamma Serpentis... and there we were ambushed.”
“Ambushed?” Captain Beeson asked.
“By an unknown force,” Burbeg said. “A force both vast in number and fearless in assault. We lost two ships to their initial assault and withdrew to shadow space to recover, but we were pursued even then. At Iota Persei, they fell upon us only a few hours after our arrival, Strike Commander Maygar ordered a withdrawal to our rally point in the Gebranyr system. But when we emerged in the Gebranyr system, our enemies were already there awaiting us. We lost another three ships.”
“That's why you think anisible communications are compromised,” Captain Beeson said softly.
“Indeed,” Burbeg nodded. “All of our communications, all of our planning took place in secure areas or occasionally through the ansible network. Whoever our attackers were, they knew exactly where to find us at Gebranyr... and they knew with enough time to have forces there waiting.”
“So what happened?” Alannis asked. “Where is the rest of your fleet?”
“Strike Commander Maygar ordered my ship to come here, we had heard that the Shogunate had made allies of the Baron's United Colonies. He ordered me to find what help I could and then to finish our mission. In the meantime, he would use our fleet to lead our enemies away.”
“Do you have any idea who these attackers might be?” Captain Beeson asked. “Did they have emissions like humans, or Chxor, or Balor...”
“They were like nothing I have seen, Captain Daniel,” Burbeg said softly. “Their attack ships came into our fire without hesitation. They did not give us warning or offer us the chance to surrender.”
“Just what we need,” Captain Beeson grunted, “another alien threat.” He sighed, “So what is it you want from us?”
“Strike Commander Maygar told me to remind the Baron of the debt he owes us... the loan of a ship,” Strike Leader Burbeg said. “I ask that the United Colonies make good on that loan and repay us with your services. I ask that you join me that we might journey to the Sacred Stars.”
Well, Alannis thought with releif, at least this decision is way over my pay grade.
Captain Beeson looked over at her. “Well, Princess, what do you think?”
***
A few hours later, seated around his conference table, Captain Daniel Beeson considered his senior officers. He had related the information to them and while his XO wore the expected dour expression, Lieutenant Commander Voronkov from engineering didn't look any more cheerful. Lieutenant Commander Douglass wore a thoughtful expression.
Commander Gantry of the Regent had a mulish expression while Commander Xan of the Crossbow wore the same unreadable expression as always. I never want to play poker with her, Daniel thought absently.
And poor Ensign Alannis Giovanni sat at the end of the table, looking rather nervous in their company. She handled herself well enough, Daniel thought, and it isn't as if she's afraid, she's more worried about coming across as too opinionated for her junior military rank.
“Sir,” Commander Gantry said, “I think that our best option is to message Fleet and request orders.”
Daniel's eyebrows went up at that, “You don't think this possible enemy force could intercept the communications?”
“I think there could be any number of explanations,” Commander Gantry said. “The Ghornath aren't known for being great at keeping secrets...”
“They built an entire fleet in secret, Commander,” Daniel said. “I didn't get all the details from Strike Leader Burbeg, but he made it clear that his ship wasn't the largest. We know they had at least one battleship from the visit they paid us at Faraday three years ago.”
Commander Gantry frowned at that. “I don't see what other option we have, sir,” he said. “It isn't as if we can go tearing off on a wild goose chase. We have orders to protect this shipment.”
“We also have orders to represent the United Colonies and Emperor Giovanni,” Commander Bowder said with a sigh. “The Ghornath helped out the Emperor back when he only had one ship. The 'loan' of a battlecruiser at that time provided far more assistance than we could easily repay... and he's said before that he considers the Ghornath to be our allies. I don't think he'd like it if we left them in the lurch when they needed our help.”
The various officers looked down the table at Ensign Giovanni. Daniel hid a smile as she sat a bit straighter at the combined attention. “He wouldn't,” she nodded. “In fact, I'm pretty certain he'd insist on helping them.”
“Exactly,” Daniel said. It was one of the reasons that he so admired Lucius Giovanni. The man simply didn't have it in him to deny help to people who needed it. Most times he turned situations like this into ones of mutual benefit. “I'm reasonably certain he would insist that we help... and I'm even more certain that if we did use the ansible to ask for directions that he'd relieve all three commanding officers for lack of initiative.” Well, he admitted, probably not, but he'd have some strong words for all of us.
“So,” Daniel said, “we're going to operate under the assumption that helping Strike Leader Burbeg is what he would want us to do. Which also means that we need to both complete our mission here and send word back to the United Colonies about what we've learned.” He saw confusion on the faces of a couple officers, “Look at it this way, there's someone around with a powerful fleet that doesn't seem to mind serious losses and just kicked one of our allies hard. Regardless of what else happens from here, Emperor Giovanni needs to know about that.”
He saw his officers nod in response. “So,” he said, “the most probable course of action is for us to leave one of our destroyers here, to secure the technology transfer, while the other makes a least-time course for the United Colonies.”
“Sir,” Commander Xan said, “a least-time course would take us through systems controlled by the Centauri Confederation.”
Daniel nodded, “I'm aware of that. Odds are, whoever we send could transit in the outer system and then jump out from there.”
“I don't think we have the supplies for that length of trip, sir,” Commander Xan said. “If we went for the shortest route, we'd have to stop in the Volaterra system, which is contested.”
Daniel grimaced at that thought. The Volaterra system had been a part of the Nova Roma Empire. It and the Lavinium system had remained free in the face of the Chxor Empire's attack on human space. They'd suffered some sort of military coup and declared their allegiance to Marius Giovanni... who had apparently declared his allegiance to the Centauri Confederation.
The whole situation was rather muddled, especially since Marius Giovanni was Emperor Lucius Giovanni's father... and the father to Ensign Giovanni as well. Daniel had been there for the revelation of not just one but two Marius Giovanni's... one of who worked for Shadow Lord Imperious. No one really understood what was going on there and it gave Daniel a headache just thinking about it.
Word from both the Volaterra and Lavinium systems was that they regretted their deal with the Centauri Confederation, but President Spiridon wasn't the type to let anything go once he got his hands on it. The Centauri Fleet had extensive patrols in both systems and they'd threatened to shoot any United Colonies Fleet vessels on sight.
“We'll have to examine routes,” Daniel said. One or other of the destroyers could strip down their crew to extend their range, but that would leave them understrength if they ran into a fight. The route that they had taken on the way here had gone through the Ghornath Prime system and it had taken them nearly ninety days in shadow space with another three weeks added for resupplying fuel for the transports. And we can't go back that way, there's an enemy fleet operating somewhere near there.
If Commander Xan is thinking of the route I think she's thinking of, he thought, it would be sixty days in shadow space. In theory, neither destroyer would need to resupply, but that would put them dangerously low on supplies towards the end of their journey. And they would be pushing their ship and systems extremely hard after an already long voyage.
That worried him more than supplies. Getting the message back to the Emperor would rely on a single ship making a long-distance, high-speed run. Neither destroyer mounted a ship's ansible. If something went wrong, if some system broke and they couldn't fix it... they would have no way to get help.
“Like I said, we'll need to discuss possible return routes,” Daniel said. “Of higher priority is ensuring the security of the technology transfer.” He looked at Lieutenant Commander Voronkov, “How is that going?”
“We haven't really begun,” he confessed. “I can talk with the engineers aboard the transports, but last I'd heard, they were still organizing things and getting ready to unpack.”
“Well,” Daniel said, “we'll need to get them moving. I'll talk with our ambassador, we need to push the Shogunate to move fast with this.” He smirked, “Not that I expect them to complain about that.”
Since the Shogun's diplomats had been pushing hard for them to get here, he wouldn't be surprised if the Shogun was happy enough to get their engineers and equipment unloaded as soon as possible. “After everything is unloaded, I want those transports ready to head back,” Daniel said. “But I don't expect them to actually leave unless the system comes under attack. He sighed, “If that's the case, the destroyer we leave here will escort them out of the system and back to United Colonies space as quickly as possible”
“What about our people we're leaving to train the Shogun's people?” Commander Gantry asked. He didn't look too happy about the idea of running.
“If there's time, evacuate them as well,” Daniel said. “If not... well, the Shogun has promised their protection and I'm sure the last thing he wants to do is lose the people who will help his nation modernize.”
“Okay,” Daniel nodded, “We've got some priorities. Everyone has some planning points and I'll get to work on the bones of an order for the squadron.” His smile turned a bit grim as he realized that his first independent squadron command was about to be broken up on his own orders. “Get to work, people.”
***
“Man,” Ensign Scott Yamahito muttered, “we just got here, I didn't even go down to the planet and now the word is that we're headed out.”
“There's always another day,” Alannis said as gently as she could manage. A lot of important things had changed over the past few hours. Somehow she couldn't manage much sympathy for Scott's cultural journey.
“Yeah, I know,” Scott said. “Still, who knows when I'll get another chance, right?” He shook his head, “At least we're not aboard the Regent, I heard they're stacking supplies in for a least-time voyage.”
“Oh, they selected the Regent?” Alannis asked. From what Commander Xan had said, she would have expected her ship the Crossbow to be chosen.
“Yeah,” Ashtar Shan said. “Ed Medica told me that he just got back from helping to inspect both ships. Crossbow has some minor engine wear, not enough to be a risk in normal operations, but running at full capacity on a least-time course might stress it too much.”
“Huh,” Alannis said. She hoped that the dour Commander Gantry was up for the journey.
“So...” Scott leaned forward, “since you've been privy to all the big meetings, care to tell us what this is all about?”
Alannis shrugged, “I don't think I can.”
“Aw, come on,” Scott said. “There's rumors flying all over the ship. Apparently the Captain swore the bridge crew to secrecy. All anyone knows is that the Regent is about to leave for Faraday, that the Captain ordered the ansible secured, and that we're loading supplies to depart within the next few days.”
Alannis's eyebrows went up, “The Captain ordered the ansible secured?”
She wasn't surprised by that, so much as surprised the news had leaked. Still, she didn't know what the response back at home would be when they lost contact. Had the Captain sent a final message, she wondered, or had he worried that it would give this whole thing away?
“Oh, yeah,” Scott nodded, “Lieutenant Busch was bitching about it earlier this morning. Half the crew heard her and I guess the last shuttle to the surface had about fifteen people with messages to send home to their families...”
“The XO stopped them all,” Ashtar said. “He said that no one is to send messages via the planetary ansible station.” Ashtar looked over Scott's shoulder and her face paled a bit. Alannis looked up and saw that the XO had walked in their direction.
“Oh, yeah,” Scott nodded, “And I heard he blistered Lieutenant Busch real good, too.”
“Ensign Yamahito,” Commander Bowder said sharply, “apparently the lot of you have too much time on your hands that you can afford to gossip like schoolchildren. Report to your section heads immediately.”
Crap, Alannis thought, I really need to convince Scott to keep his dumb mouth shut.
***
Chapter V
Gebranyr System
Neutral Space
November 11, 2407
The UCS Constellation emerged from shadow space with her sensors sweeping for threats and all weapons systems fully armed and operational. “Status?” Captain Daniel Beeson asked.
“No hostile contacts,” Lieutenant Cassat said after a long moment. “There's quite a bit of debris, no signs of life pods or distress signals.”
Daniel's felt his stomach twist a bit at that. While it was unlikely that any survivors could have held out long enough for their arrival, their transponders and distress beacons should have remained active. Their absense suggested that this mysterious foe, whoever it was, had fired on the survivors.
Daniel opened a channel to Burbeg's vessel, “Strike Leader Burbeg, are you showing any signs of hostiles?”
“No, our scopes are clear,” Burbeg said. “If we have time, we would like to recover equipment and supplies from some of the wreckage and search for any survivors.”
Daniel hesitated. If their unknown enemies had left any kind of traps or scouts, they might be better off avoiding the debris. At the same time, he couldn't deny Burbeg the opportunity to search for survivors. While there were no distress signals, there might still be some survivors within inner compartments. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that someone had survived.
All the same, both ships could maintain emissions control. With Burbeg's ship, that included shutting down systems to lower the overall power signature, which while it wasn't particularly stealthy, it did make it look like a smaller vessel unless someone looked close. “Do it,” Daniel said, “we'll maintain exterior scanning and keep an eye out.”
***
“Captain,” Lee Andros grunted, “we've got a couple ships coming in.”
Captain Arvad Sang grimaced as he glanced at his sensor display. “Two cruisers? No identity on either of them? What in the hell am I paying you for, Lee?” Arvad spat on the deck in disgust.
“Captain,” Lee whined, “they don't match profiles in the system, maybe they're more Ghornath ships.”
“Maybe,” Arvad grunted. Certainly he wouldn't mind. He and his salvage teams had come across the wreckage of the battle two weeks ago and they'd had a pretty great haul of salvage. While there'd been a few holdout survivors, he and his men had handled them easily enough. After all, this wasn't the first time his crew had salvaged after a battle.
First time we seen this much good stuff left behind, though, he thought absently, normally we don't see spoils like this unless it was us getting first pick when we blasted them in the first place.
Arvad dialed up his squadron commander. A moment later, the skinny, tattooed man leered out of his screen. “Dammit, Gahring, put some clothes on, I don't want to see your pecker hanging out like that.”
“Aw, come on, Arvad, you know you like it,” Gahring giggled. “So, boss, we got some ships inbound?”
“Yeah,” Arvad said, still avoiding looking at his nominal subordinate. The weirdo came from some kind of back-ass colony where they encouraged debauchery like that. Not that Arvad really cared, he liked debauchery himself, just not while he was on the job... and not with other men. Haul like this and I can buy some good looking women, he thought idly.
“Two cruisers, looks like,” Arvad said. “Maybe a salvage team from the original owners, or it might be from the folks that blew these babies up. Either way, I don't want your crews to give them time to fire back. Hit them fast, hit them hard, and my ships will move in to finish them off.”
“Yes, sir!” Gahring gave a mocking salute as he waggled his penis. I really hate him, Arvad thought as he cut the link. Perhaps it would be best if he waited a bit to launch his follow-on attack. That way he could replace Gahring without complaint. Plus we wouldn't have to pay him his share of the loot, Arvad thought with a small smile.
His gaze flitted around the bridge crew as he estimated how they'd react. Most of them came from the same hard-scrabble background as him. Since they'd all be headed back to Gamma Serpentis and Copley's Sapphire Colony would get his share of their loot anyway, most of them wouldn't complain about fewer ways to split their profits.
“Be ready to bring our drives and weapons online,” Arvad said. “I want to bring them up as soon as Gahring's squadrons finish their attacks.” He saw several nasty grins appear on faces throughout his bridge crew as they considered that. If they had really wanted to support Gahring and his attack boats, they would have brought those systems online as soon as he began his attack runs. The delay would be time that he and his crews would be engaged with the enemy and taking the brunt of any damage from this fight.
Two cruisers would be a tough fight for his crew under normal circumstances, but he had all this convenient debris to hide behind, so he was fairly confident of his chances. Even if they were more Ghornath ships, they shouldn't have time to ready themselves for a real fight. Now, he thought, lets see how complacent these people are... come to papa.
***
“Captain,” Lieutenant Cassat said, “we're picking up a number of anomalies.”
“Anomalies?” Daniel asked.
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Cassat transferred him the sensor data and then pointed at several objects hidden within the debris cloud. “We've detected two dozen light craft, bigger than fighters but smaller than standard gunboats. They look like shuttles that have been converted for use as combat craft. We wouldn't have seen them at all, except we dropped a probe into the debris field to search for survivors.”
“Huh,” Daniel said. “They don't match Strike Leader Burbeg's sensor data?”
“No sir,” Lieutenant Cassat said. “And once we knew they were there, we started looking for other ships. We found these five additional vessels, here,” he highlighted five other objects and his estimates about their size and armament. Two of them were heavily modified Defiance-class destroyers. The light warships were an older class of warship built in the Colonial Republic, though few of them were used by the Colonial Republic Fleet anymore.
The other three were even more heavily modified civilian vessels. One had probably once been a Foster-class freighter, but at some time the cargo bays had been cut out and replaced with missile racks. The other two were unrecognizable, with bits and pieces of different ships tacked together.
“Pirates?” Commander Bowder asked.
“Or scavengers,” Daniel said. “Out here on the edge of human space, the two are pretty synonomous.” He grimaced, “Almost two decades ago a group not too different from this attacked Faraday. My father commanded the force that drove them off. They resort to piracy, salvaging, slavery... they'll trade in any goods and the only way to get them to deal fairly is at the barrel of a gun.”
“Well,” Commander Bowder said, “these ones certainly don't seem friendly.”
“No,” Daniel smiled, “they don't. Which means we don't need to play friendly either. And seeing as they're about to attack us, I think we should prepare to teach them a bit of a lesson.” Daniel activated the ship's intercom, “All personnel, battle stations.” He forwarded the sensor data to Burbeg’s vessel as well as his intended course of action.
“Their ships may not look like much, sir,” his XO cautioned, “but there are a lot of them.”
“True enough,” Daniel said. He nodded at the display that showed Burbeg's battlecruiser, the Goronto. “But don't forget, we have support too.”
“Sir,” Commander Bowder still looked unhappy, but that was his job as XO, to think of the worst case.
“We'll engage with energy weapons,” Daniel said. “We don't have many reloads for the Mark Vs shipkillers or the new Moljnirs, so I'd like to save those for when we really need them.” He looked over at Lieutenant Commander Douglass, “Initial priority will be defense against those small craft and elimination of their launch platforms.” Missiles would be the largest threat, he figured, so he'd rather remove the enemy's ability to threaten his ship with long range missile fire. Worse case, he knew the Constellation could outrun any of those ships out there.
“We'll close the distance until they attack, but I want all systems at full readiness,” Daniel said. He would confer with Burbeg in a moment, but he felt confident that the Ghornath commander would go along with his plan. He looked at his XO, “Commander Bowder, I'd like you at auxiliary control.”
“Sir,” Commander Bowder nodded. “Should I have Ensign Shan prep her Marines for boarding ops?”
“Good idea,” Daniel said. He didn't plan to leave much left of the enemy ships, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be a need. “Have them prep and have the shuttle pilots ready.”
“Sir,” Commander Bowder hurried off the bridge and Daniel sat back in his command chair. They would be within missile range soon and at their present course, the enemy craft would launch their attack soon after that. Not long at all, he thought, but the rest of their lives.
***
“Coming in fat and happy,” Arvad grunted. He felt more nervous than he should about all this. Probably because he hadn't ever tried to take on a real military ship before. There'd been a couple of Chxor cruisers that one time, but they'd been so pathetically armed they didn't really count.
He'd fought other scavengers before. Those fights were all about hitting hard and then running away if that wasn't enough. The problem was, he didn't know if he could outrun these ships. Maybe his destroyers if they pushed the engines past their safeties, but these two cruisers were already pulling near his maximum accelerations. He didn't know whether that was because they were rushing to rescue survivors or if this was just a leisurely pace for them.
Not that they'd find any survivors, he thought. He'd ordered the surviving Ghornath spaced. Under other circumstances he would have kept some for sale as slaves, but Ghornath were notoriously hard to control. And besides, the salvage haul was big enough off this that he didn't care to go through the trouble of dealing with prisoners.
He squinted as he noticed the two ships draw closer to each other. If he didn't know better, he would have thought it looked like they shifted into a formation of sorts. That was absurd, though. If they even suspected his ships were here, they should break off. Backed by Garhing's assault boats, his fleet would be more than anyone would want to engage with just two cruisers. Unless I'm missing something...
“Lee,” Arvad snapped, “get me a visual of those ships.”
“Captain...” Lee whined, “we'll need to launch a probe for that.”
Arvad hesitated. Probes were expensive. Besides that, the enemy ships might see the probe and even if they didn't, there was enough debris and would soon be weapons flying about. He may lose the probe. Besides that, Gahring would launch his attack in a matter of minutes, was the risk worth cutting a little bit of time off what Gahring would see? On the other hand, he thought, better the probe than my life. “Do it.”
Lee Sang sighed, but he did as he was told. The probe launched and cleared the debris cloud. It took Lee longer than it should have to get the probe's telescopic camera aimed at the two ships.
Arvad needed a long moment to make sense of what he saw. The lead cruiser was odd, sleek and streamlined with heavy armor plating. It didn't have turrets, but it seemed to have odd firing ports or maybe some kind of weapon array set into the hull, Arvad couldn't tell which.
But what really threw him was the ship behind it. It should have appeared smaller due to positioning, but then Lee split off the perspective and put both ships side by side to scale. The blood drained from Arvad's face. “That's no cruiser...”
“Yeehaw!” Gahring shouted over the comms, “here comes daddy!”
“Dammit,” Arvad said, “Gahring, turn around you idiot!”
It was too late, though, Arvad saw. Gahring's assault boats had cleared the debris field, their souped up engines blazing as they charged at the two enemy ships.
“Damn you, Gahring!” Arvad shouted, “that's a battlecruiser!”
***
Alannis didn't have much of a big picture. She had her little window, with rapidly updating target priorities and sensor data that told her what Lieutenant Commander Douglass wanted dead and in what order.
The ships didn't look like much of anything, but she wasn't about to get complacent. She didn't know if these were the people who had attacked the Ghornath Fleet or not, but they certainly didn't act like they were friendly.
“Huh,” Lieutenant Perkins said from just down the way.
“Sir?” Alannis asked.
“That second ship there, I recognize it. It's a Aragan-class transport. I served aboard it on my first assignment, I was aboard her when we came back and saw the aftermath of the Nova Roma attack,” he said. “I gave up my slot for a friend of mine to get his family off world... I remember hearing it disappeared, I guess she was taken by pirates.”
Alannis didn't let his words distract her, but she did take the time to pull up a visual of the ship. She could see where the enemy had cut away at the old freighter's hull and spliced in weapons systems and targeting sensors. “Well, maybe some of the crew survived.”
“Doubtful,” Lieutenant Perkins said. “I hate to think what might have happened on that ship over the past twenty years.” He shook his head, “Just as well.” She looked over and saw that his face had gone grave at the reminder of his home and at the losses he'd suffered.
It was a marked reminder to her. Forrest Perkins often seemed young and energetic, but he was like her, he'd lived a life before he joined the United Colonies Fleet. She felt an odd connection to him, they'd both lost so much and had begun new lives within the military.
Maybe she could talk to him about it when the crisis was past.
Alannis's eyes went back to her screen, just as she saw the enemy small craft light off their drives. Her fingers pulled up the targeting data even as she heard Lieutenant Commander Douglass's voice in her headset, “Engage!”
The Constellation's four small pulse projectors could fire both forward and aft with their arrays. With the targeting priorities and engagement parameters uploaded, each pulse cannon could unleash a burst of thirty pulsed beams each of phased exotic particles at up to five thousand kilometers range in just under six seconds.
Those pulse projectors were designed for use against fast bombers and even faster missiles. They were designed to hit hard enough to destroy a heavy bomber with a single hit.
From the time that Alannis told the pulse projectors to engage to Lieutenant Commander Douglass's order to shift fire, the arrays fired over six hundred shots in thirty seconds. The pirate assault boats hadn't even fully cleared the debris field before they all died. The vast majority of the follow-on shots simply shredded their wreckage into a cloud of ionized gasses.
A moment later, someone on the bridge must have shifted over the pirate's transmissions to the ship's intercom, “Stop, please, oh god, we surrender! Please don't kill us!”
“Weapons, stand down,” Captain Beeson said. “It seems our new friends want to surrender.”
Lieutenant Perkins sighed and looked down at his console, “Dang it, a few more seconds and I would have gotten to fire.” He glared at Alannis, “Ensign, if you're the only one on this cruise who gets to fire guns in combat, I will be very disappointed.”
***
Ensign Ashtar Shan grimaced as she looked down the line of pirate scavengers. Most of them were men, which itself wasn't much of a surprise. Nor had she felt much surprise when several of her Marines had reported the discovery of “pleasure” women hidden away in several of the pirate's quarters.
What she'd wanted to do was grab them, one by one, and space them. She'd seen the same kind of behavior on her own world, hidden under the mask of religious fanaticism. The only difference between these pirates and the terrorists of her world was just that, a mask. They were the same type, people who wanted power and lived by taking from those who had worked hard.
Back on Tehran, she had the pleasure of lining similar filth up against the wall and shooting them. Hopefully she'd have the same opportunity here.
“Any more weapons?” Ashtar asked as Gunny Tam stepped back from where his Marines had finished searching the last of the pirates.
“No, ma'am,” Gunny Tam said. “Just that one idiot.” He nodded at the spreading pool of blood. The idiot pirate had tried to stab one of her Marines. Maybe he'd thought he could take them by surprise or get a hostage, maybe he'd just been hopped up on drugs. It didn't matter. Staff Sergeant Witzke had put him down with a burst to the torso and then made certain of him with a single round to the head.
Not that she condoned shooting prisoners, normally, but by attacking after they'd already surrendered, the pirate had waived any rights he had. Then again, she mused, they're pirates, which means they don't really have any rights, especially since we caught them in the act.
“Right,” Ashtar said. She walked in front of the line of pirates. “Which one of you is in charge? Captain Beeson wants to talk to you.”
“I'm Arvad,” a pirate said. “I'm the commander of this force.”
“You were the commander,” Ashtar said. She saw the pirate's face go gray at the reminder. “Now you're our prisoner. Now, if you'll follow the Lance Corporal, here, he'll take you back to our ship and the brig.”
She waited as he left and then stared at the group of sullen and shocked pirates. “Now, then, some of you may already have forgotten what happened to your friend here,” she looked distastefully at the corpse of the pirate on the deck. “Just in case your memories are fading, let me remind you of two things.”
She held up a single finger, “United Colonies Marines live for this sort of thing. The only thing they like better than rescuing some very grateful people from bad guys like you is killing bad guys like you.” Ashtar held up a second finger, “And two: each of them is armed with a battle rifle that can punch through a bulkhead, much less the fragile sacks of meat, blood, and shit that make up your bodies.” One of the pirates might have whimpered. “Now, I'll leave you all in the capable hands of Gunny Tam. If any of you have any issues, feel free to bring them up.”
***
Chapter VI
Gebranyr System
Neutral Space
November 12, 2407
Alannis swore a bit as she tugged at a recalcitrant piece of machinery. The Captain had sent her and a small party to one of the unknown craft to search for anything of interest. This bit of wreckage was the most intact remains from the mystery force that had attacked the Ghornath.
Not that that's saying much, she thought. Whatever damage had put the ship out of action, it had been severe enough to rip the front two-thirds of the vessel apart. The aft section that she and her salvage crew were in seemed to have taken secondary damage, possibly in an attempt to completely destroy it.
Thus far, they hadn't found anything recognizable as being remotely useful for identifying the origins of the ship. They'd found no signs at all of bodies and every bit of machinery seemed to have been targeted for destruction. Every piece but this one, wedged as it was between the bulkhead and a support strut.
“Need help, ma'am?” A voice asked over her suit radio.
Alannis turned awkwardly, her braced feet still clamped to the deck. She saw Tech Specialist Spurlock had drifted over from his search area. “I finished my area, no finds, Petty Officer Muna sent me to check and see if you needed help, ma'am.”
“Sure,” Alannis unclamped her boots and drifted to the side. She flashed her light on the bit of machinery where it was wedged. “Think you can help me get it free?”
“Maybe?” Tech Specialist Spurlock said. He spun vertical and checked the upper area of the support strut. “There's a bit more room up here, we might be able to get it out intact up here.”
“Good idea,” Alannis said. She braced herself and nearly overcompensated for the lack of gravity. Her flailing leg struck the Tech Specialist and he had to catch himself on the strut. “Shit, sorry.”
“No worries, ma'am,” Spurlock said. “Zero G takes a lot of getting used to. I'm sure you don't get much time to train in it.”
“Not anymore,” Alannis muttered to herself. She sighed, “How do you take it? This stupid ship is creeping everyone out and even Petty Officer Muna is sounding on edge. You sound calm.”
“It's a trick I picked up in basic training, ma'am,” Tech Specialist Spurlock replied. She gingerly moved the bit of electronics up towards him and he took it and started to ease it out through the gap. “I have severe agoraphobia. I can't even function in zero-g in deep space.”
“What?” Alannis asked in shock. “I thought that was enough to disqualify anyone from military service!”
“It is,” Spurlock said as he adjusted the bit of equipment. “Worse, in my case it's tied to my inner ear and the way my brain works. It's non-treatable according to every doc I saw, without severe medications which would also disqualify me for service. They were going to file the paperwork and discharge me, but I managed to talk my drill instructors into giving me a second chance.”
Alannis thought about some of the training cadre at the Academy. “That must have taken some talking.”
“It did,” Spurlock said. “But I remembered a story my grand-dad told me, about his grand-dad, who had issues with some of his military training. He put quarters in his boots.”
“Quarters?”
“They're an old-Earth coin, ma'am,” Spurlock said. “My grand-dad kept them, they've been passed down several generations. I've got two coins in my mag-boots and I'm too busy playing with them with my toes to think about the sucking-death-vacuum all around us.”
“What happens if you lose your coins?” Alannis asked.
“I'll probably turn into a gibbering mess, ma'am,” Spurlock said cheerfully. He finished angling the bit of equipment and then pulled it out of the gap, then carefully passed it down to her. “Here you are, ma'am.”
“Thanks,” Alannis said. She was pretty certain the letter of the regulations would demand she bring up the information that Spurlock had told her. For that matter, she could think of just how bad things could go if he didn’t have his coins handy… or down his boot, or whatever.
He trusts me enough to tell me that, she realized, he didn't have to, he could have kept quiet or said something else. He had told her to help make her feel better.
She knew she wasn't going to tell anyone. She hoisted the bit of machinery, “Let's go see if this was worth all the effort, shall we?”
***
“So,” Daniel said after a full shift spent combing through the wreckage, “what have we learned?” The holographic projectors had extended the table into Burbeg's conference room. It was a bit odd since the projectors had issues with the scale. They weren't really designed for such differences. The laser transceivers left a bit of lag in communications, but it was as secure as they could manage without physically relocating to one ship or the other. Given the security situation, Daniel didn't want to be away from his ship.
“We recovered the remains of over two hundred of our warriors,” Burbeg said. “We've also replenished our supplies of missiles and we have picked up replacement parts to complete our repairs.”
“Excellent,” Daniel said. “Have your crews found any clues about who attacked?”
“No,” Burbeg's hide darkened, “we have found little, from what we have learned from the scavengers, the enemy must have destroyed their damaged equipment and recovered their dead.”
“We've found a couple pieces of equipment from one wreck,” Daniel said. “I've got our engineers working on it, they're taking it apart as we speak.”
“Good, perhaps we will learn the nature of our enemies,” Burbeg said. “What have you learned about the pirates?”
“They're pretty much scum,” Daniel said with a frown. “The records they kept are enough to space the lot of them.” Some of the bastards had documented what they did to the people they'd attacked for their own sick pleasure. Daniel would prefer to give them a trial, but they didn't have the time to do it and they didn't have the room aboard either warship to keep so many prisoners. “I'd still like to give them a proper trial before we kill them, but it's a long way to civilized space.”
“There may be a way,” Burbeg said. His skin flashed through several colors. “You may suspect that we have a base of operations.”
“Yes,” Daniel said, “We assumed as much from the existence of your fleet.”
“Well,” Burbeg said, “we do have a base, but one of our operational principles has been secrecy. We've never transmitted its location, not even via ansible. Nor have we stored its location aboard any ship. Its coordinates are kept only in the minds of a ship's senior officers and are wiped from a navigational computer after departure from the star system.”
Daniel heard one of his officers give a low whistle. That level of secrecy was tremendous. He would have called it excessive... except apparently the Ghornath had an unknown enemy who had the ability to listen in to ansible communications.
“We could drop off the pirates to face trial there,” Burbeg said. “As well as their prisoners. There are a small number of humans there who could take them somewhere to recover. I could have prize crews bring the captured pirate vessels there where they can be transported for storage or salvaged for materials and parts.”
“Okay,” Daniel said. “I take it you would want us to wipe our navigational computer after we arrive?”
“Yes,” Burbeg nodded. “We would also have to ask that you lock down your sensors other than basic navigational systems.”
Daniel nodded, “I can agree to that. Would your base be able to resupply us at all?”
Burbeg shook his head, “I do not know. If the Fleet was able to shake their enemies, they might have withdrawn there in which case they will be short on supplies. If not, we do not grow crops there, all foodstuffs are shipped in.”
“I understand,” Daniel said. “Thank you for trusting us with this information. I promise you that we will not let it out.”
“Excellent,” Burbeg said. “I will send over one of my officers, she will input the coordinates, she is familiar with human technology and should be able to do it quickly enough. She'll stay aboard in case of any issues.”
“Thank you, Strike Leader,” Daniel said. “I look forward to her arrival.”
***
“I am Leader Chuni,” the Ghornath said. She wore combat fatigues and carried a heavy bag, probably filled with her personal gear, and she had to bend nearly in half to fit through the hatch. The Ghornath shuttle had docked at their cargo hatch, so at least it was wide enough for the big alien to fit through.
“I'm Ensign Alannis Giovanni,” Alannis replied. Lacking any real idea of what to do, she saluted. The Ghornath had a rather looser rank structure. They didn't really have any ranks between “Strike Leader” and “Leader.” The one was the commander of a ship or ground unit, the other was simply an officer rank attached to an officer in a position of authority.
“Pleased to meet you, Ensign Giovanni,” Leader Chuni said. She spoke with no accent, which surprised Alannis, most Ghornath had at least some difficulty with human words, especially those who hadn't grown up around humans. “Should we go to the bridge?”
“Of course,” Alannis said. Though Captain Beeson hadn't specifically mentioned it, she'd picked the route with the widest and tallest corridors possible to reach the bridge. She'd also had one of the drop shafts near the bridge shut down, since that would be the easiest way to move up the necessary levels for the big Ghornath female.
“You are Giovanni?” Chuni asked. “Are you related to your Emperor?”
“I am his sister,” Alannis said.
“That is very close, then,” Chuni said. Her hide turned an odd shade of tan. “Your brother, the Emperor, he was among the vanguard who led their attack on Ghornathi Har?”
Alannis frowned, “I think so, if that's what we call Ghornath Prime. He regrets his role, he was a junior officer, sent on a suicide mission. I know that he has tried to make up for the debt that he feels we owe your people.”
“Debts...” the Ghornath said, “debts of honor are the most difficult to repay.”
They walked in awkward silence for some time. Alannis hoped that she hadn't made an enemy of the Ghornath. I'm sure Lucius would be rather disappointed in me if I rekindled a war with the Ghornath over one of them murdering me for my family's role in the fall of their homeworld.
“What are your normal duties, Leader Chuni?” Alannis asked.
“Please, just call me Chuni,” the Ghornath responded. “We are of similar rank, so formalities are unnecessary.” She said that with a brisque tone, as if her military rank meant little to her. Interesting, Alannis thought, it's like she's from a higher caste, but as far as I know, most of the senior ranking Ghornath died between the Nova Roma attack and the Chxor occupation.
“Very well,” Alannis said, “then call me Alannis.”
“Of course,” Chuni said. “I command a team of Chigathi-Ho. It would translate to something like... Honor Guardians”
“Honor Guard?” Alannis asked.
Chuni looked over and she nodded the affirmative, “It is our powered armor squad.”
Alannis's eyebrows went up, “that is a very prestigious position, I'd imagine. How did you earn that?”
“As you humans say, with lots of 'Blood, Sweat, and Tears.'“ Chuni responded. “I started out on a Ghornath Privateer and worked my way up.”
Alannis nodded, “What do you think of our ship?”
“It is very low,” Chuni said dubiously as she had to almost kneel to get through a hatch. “But I approve of the weapons. It was good to see the weapons fire shred the enemy attack craft.”
“Thanks,” Alannis said. She couldn't help but give a smile, “I was the one who got to fire.”
Chuni paused and looked at her for a moment, “Truly? You are a warrior then? Forgive the question, but I assumed that humans tried to keep their leaders away from combat.”
“It depends on the humans... much as I'm sure it depends on the Ghornath in question.”
Chuni gave a harsh laugh, “True enough. My thanks, then, for your excellent shooting.”
They came to the drop shaft and Alannis led the way in, the counter gravity assisting her movement up the shaft. To her surprise, Chuni's awkward waddle became a graceful, flowing movement as soon as she had the room to move. The eight-limbed alien swarmed up the shaft and Alannis had to work hard to stay ahead of her.
She didn't miss the grumble from Chuni as they came to the exit. “We're nearly there,” Alannis said helpfully.
“Yes,” Chuni replied. “I can hardly wait.”
Alannis led the big Ghornath onto the bridge. “Captain,” Alannis said, “this is Leader Chuni of the Chigathi-Ho.”
“Leader Chuni,” Captain Beeson gave a nod, “Thank you for coming aboard, sorry about the accommodations.”
“I understand, Captain,” Chuni replied. “I served aboard a captured human ship for some time, I will adapt.” Captain Beeson gave Alannis a nod and she led the Ghornath warrior over to the navigation station. “Ah, a very nice system,” Chuni said with a nod at Lieutenant Forsberg.”
“Uh,” Lieutenant Forsberg said, “Thank you?”
Chuni began to type in the sixteen digit alpha-numeric coordinates. Alannis politely turned her back. “That should do it,” Chuni said.
Lieutenant Forsberg glanced at his control panel. “The computer is working on it, ma'am, probably it'll take ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Closer to thirty,” Chuni grumbled, “It is a difficult course to plot from here. We will have a long journey I am afraid.”
“Well,” Captain Beeson said, “Leader Chuni, perhaps Ensign Giovanni can show you to the quarters we prepared for you? You should be able to stand up there at least.”
“That would be good,” Chuni said. “Let me know if there are any issues.”
Alannis led the way out. They'd prepared a storage space for her, complete with a salvaged Ghornath bed taken from some of the wreckage. Hopefully it would do.
“So,” Alannis said as they left the bridge, “would you be interested in training with our Marines? I practice with them when they do their training.”
“You train with your warriors? That is a good thing for a princess to do.”
“I'm not really a princess,” Alannis said. “I'm technically second in line for the throne, after my niece, but I'm sort of the forgotten sister.”
“But you serve!” Chuni objected. “You will gain honor. Your nation's warriors will know your name. You are a true princess, I am sure that your brother the Emperor will have his daughter follow your example.”
Alannis snorted, “I doubt that my brother would want his daughter following my example... but thanks.”
“I would like to train with your Marines,” Chuni said after a long moment. “It is good to take the measure of one's allies and I would not want my fighting skills growing dull over the voyage. Perhaps when we reach our base, you and your warriors may train with the Chigathi-Ho.”
“Maybe,” Alannis said. She wondered what Ashtar would think of that.
***
Chapter VII
UCS Constellation, Shadow Space
November 20th, 2407
“You know,” Daniel said, “its voyages like this that I miss having a handy psychic navigator to take shortcuts.”
“Sir?” his XO looked up from the central plot.
“Oh, don't mind me, just whining,” Daniel said flippantly as he stood from his command chair and walked over. “Back when the Emperor was just the Baron, he had that psychic... what's her name... Kandergain?”
“I don't know, sir,” Commander Bowder said. “I do remember that crazy shadow space jump we made to pincer the Balor.” He shivered, “It was like shadow space went mad... no thanks, sir, I like my shadow space gray and featureless.”
Daniel looked at the screens, which showed the strange, gray on gray emptiness. Daniel never thought it looked featureless, it was almost like one could just barely see things moving, but never quite make out what it was...
He shook off the thought and looked down at the display, “So, how is our training exercise going?”
Since the Goronto was on a slightly different course, they couldn't communicate during the voyage. The navigational computer put their travel time around nineteen days, which would put them dangerously low on food, down to only twelve days of rations after their journey to the Gebranyr system. While that might be enough to get to another inhabitable world to take on foodstuffs, it also might not. On short rations, they could stretch that out so he wasn't too worried, but it was still an element of concern.
“They're sharpening up,” Commander Bowder said. “I think our little pirate encounter was enough to get them all thinking about the seriousness of the stakes but not enough to shake them.”
“Good,” Daniel nodded, “Any signs of combat stress or fatigue?”
Commander Bowder shook his head, “No. Ensign Giovanni was the one who fired and she seems to have taken that well. She's remarkably steady, but that might be because she's seen more combat first-hand than most of the rest of our crew.”
Daniel nodded at that. Other than himself and Forest Perkins, and possibly Ensign Shan, she had probably seen more people die at close range than anyone else aboard the ship. Well, he amended, Gunny Tam and Staff Sergeant Witzke have both been in the thick of it too.
Still, for as much combat as the United Colonies had seen since its founding, much of his crew was new and they hadn't been in the thick of it. Until their encounter with the pirates, none of this had been quite real for them.
Nothing like knowing someone wants to actively kill you to focus your thoughts.
“I think we'll see a nice boost to our training scores.” Commander Bowder said, “Hopefully we can keep them up throughout the crew and fight complacency.”
Daniel nodded, “Good. Let me know if any of the crew needs some personal attention.”
His XO hesitated, “About that, sir.” Daniel waited patiently, and when his XO spoke, he heard the reluctance, “I'm not sure that things are going to work out with Lieutenant Busch.”
“Oh?” Daniel asked. The last he had heard, she had straightened out after the last counseling session the XO had with her.
“She's been making some rather... snide comments, sir. About the mission, about the Ghornath, and about the idea that her department is basically on lockdown. Nothing that can be directly construed as mutinous, but all of it in poor taste and of questionable value.”
“I see,” Daniel said. “You want me to talk to her then?” For the XO to get him involved, it meant that he didn't know what else to do. The direct threat of repercussions to her career had apparently not changed her attitude. In all likelihood, that meant that she was past the point of rehabilitation. When they returned to the United Colonies, Daniel's evaluation of her would suggest discharge, pretty much regardless of how she shaped up after this.
“If you can make time, sir,” Commander Bowder said in a low voice. Clearly he wasn't happy with the situation. The thought of destroying anyone's career didn't sit well with him.
It wasn't a decision to make lightly. Granted, there was a chance that the Fleet would decide to retain Lieutenant Busch and reassign her to another command for another chance, but Daniel doubted it. They were hurting on experienced and capable officers... but the general attitude was that if someone didn't really want to be there, then to let them go.
Apparently he would have to remind Lieutenant Busch of that fact.
***
“Down, get down!” Staff Sergeant Dawn Witzke shouted. “Damn you, Carl, I said get down!”
She knew the gunfire was only simulated, but it sounded like there was an entire enemy squad firing at them from down the corridor. Training rounds buzzed overhead like malignant wasps.
Medical Specialist Carl Thornton gave a yelp as one of the rounds caught him. “I'm good, I'm good!” He shouted. Three more rounds hit him and he fell soundlessly to the deck.
“Give me some cover fire!” Dawn shouted. The remains of her squad opened up as she darted out and grabbed Carl by the drag strap and pulled her corpsman to safety.
“I have had enough of this crap,” she muttered. “Mark, use the plasma rifle.”
“Staff Sergeant?” Corporal Mark Wandrey asked in surprise.
“I said do it!” Dawn barked.
The plasma rifle had a “training” setting. Normally it fired a magnetically contained beam of super-heated ionized gas. The training setting dropped the density of its firing chamber so the ionized gas was only scalding hot and painful.
The training setting also occasionally misfired and it had been known to send a full strength blast on occasion, if the user didn't notice the signs before they squeezed the trigger, they could actually kill someone.
Since the damned things occasionally blow up in combat, she thought, it's just as well that their users have some reason for caution in training.
A plasma rifle blowing up was why she'd spent three years learning how to walk again. She hated the stupid things... but she wasn't about to let these jokers stop her squad short of their objective.
“Fire in the hole!” Mark shouted. He opened fire with the plasma rifle, calm, patient shots that Dawn approved of. Shots like that wouldn't cause the magnetic coils to overheat and fail, causing the entire weapon to detonate like a bomb.
No return fire sounded and Dawn waved at her people to move forward.
They rushed the last twenty meters of corridor and she saw them skid to a halt as they saw a very angry Ghornath squatting waiting for them. “You got me,” Leader Chuni growled. “You may continue.”
Great, Dawn thought, I pissed off a two-hundred and fifty kilogram alien. She would worry about it later, “Squad,” she shouted, “assault the final objective, move it!”
***
Alannis bit back a giggle as she saw Chuni dabbing ointment on red spots on her hide. “I take it you got the plasma treatment?”
“From Second Squad, yes,” Chuni rumbled. “They were remarkably persistent. First Squad bypassed my position after my attack.”
“Yeah, but then they ran into my ambush,” Alannis grinned. After the grueling fight had dragged on almost to the point of stalemate. Granted, First Squad had taken heavy casualties from Chuni initially, so when Alannis had set off her antipersonnel “mines” she had eliminated most of their combat effectives. They'd still taken her down, but that wasn't the point. The point was pushing them hard and Alannis was starting to run out of nasty tricks.
“You two gloating in here?” Ensign Shan asked from the hatch.
“What?” Alannis grinned, “Me? Gloating? I am shocked, shocked I say!”
Ashtar gave her a squinty look, “That's from some old entertainment vid, isn't it?”
“Movie,” Alannis said, “Old movie.” She sighed. Like her brother, her grandmother had addicted her at a young age to classic films. Lucius had tended towards the humorous, but she'd enjoyed more dramatic and historical shows. “Culture is wasted on some,” she sniffed theatrically.
“My culture has elements that date back over three thousand years,” Ashtar said.
“Well...” Alannis said, “at least I don't hang out with stinky Marines all day.”
Ashtar rolled her eyes, “Actually, you do. And unlike you, I didn't volunteer for this.” She shook her head, “To think, I signed on to the Fleet to get away from ground combat. My mother always warned me that I'd take a bullet if I wasn't careful, and she would know, she had the second sight.”
“Well, if it's any consolation, you're pretty darned good at it,” Alannis said. “Your Marines are getting really good.”
“Oh, they are,” Ashtar nodded. “Which is good, because I don't want any of them dying on me... and we have no idea what we're getting into, no offense Leader Chuni.”
“None taken,” Chuni responded. “I wish we knew more.” She hesitated, “Would it help, do you think, to hear stories that I was told as a child?”
“About these 'Sacred Stars'?” Alannis asked. When Chuni nodded she looked at Ashtar, “I don't see how it could hurt. Maybe it will give us something to go on.”
“Perhaps,” Chuni said. She seemed reluctant somehow. “I suppose I should start with the Protectors.” Her voice became subdued, “They discovered my people's homeworld many generations ago. They had run from a threat, a great enemy. When they found my people, they wanted to defend us, so they created a wall, a barrier around the star cluster which contained our homeworld. They created but one entry: the Gates of Hallidas. They did all this to protect our race and they only asked one thing in return: that we trusted them and never left this paradise that they had created for us.”
“Okay,” Alannis said, “so is this some kind of barrier in shadow space, is that why there's only one way in?”
“That is what we believe,” Chuni nodded. “The legends are very old, though.” She sighed, “Our leaders under the Protectors were the Nogathi... it translates to the Blessed. The Nogathi were the most gifted among the Ghornath. They were taught the most advanced sciences and some were even possessed of what humans consider psychic abilities.
Alannis's eyebrows went up at that. She hadn't realized that Ghornath even had psychics.
“Our people spread throughout the Sacred Stars. There was the Fields of Targonis, a system with three inhabitable worlds, each with endless plains filled with wild Drothir and huge herds of Roon. Then there was the Gardens of Maar, with lush growth and cool forests, filled with Agama and Telona.”
Her voice had gone soft as she spoke, “Many of our warriors labored at the Forge of Angrahad, where they built mighty warships and weapons to defend our home against the enemies that the Protectors had warned us about. And then there was Argolim.”
“Argolim?” Alannis asked.
“In legend it is now known as the Wastes of Argolim,” Chuni said. “At one point it was the central base for our fleets, where our warriors prepared to fight the Great Enemy... and it was from there where the greatest of our Nogathi ordered scouts to travel out the Gates of Hallidas... against the wishes of the Protectors.”
Chuni took a long time to speak after that. Her hide had gone an odd shade of purple, one part regret and one part shame and one part... something else. “The Protectors saw the scouts and they followed them back to Argolim. They saw then the great fleet that the Nogathi had our warriors and scholars built and in their wrath, they shattered it, killing hundreds of thousands of our people. They had ordered us to stay in safety and we had prepared to venture out against their wishes.”
She shook her head, “In punishment, they ordered the survivors and those Nogathi who remained into exile. We had so wanted to see the outside universe that we never would return home. They loaded the Nogathi and their followers into the surviving ships and sent us through the Gates of Hallidas. On their orders, we were never to return unless led by one of the Nogathi or their descendants.”
“What happened after that?” Alannis asked.
Chuni looked down at the ground, “It was a perilous voyage. Many of the Ghornath died. The Nogathi, feeling that they were to blame, were always the first in danger and many of them died. The handful that survived, they eventually became our Royal Family, the line of our Emperors. Some others founded a monastery, where they tried to teach their abilities and knowledge, to pass it on to others... though they met with only mixed success.”
“And the Nova Roma Empire killed the Emperor and his sister,” Alannis shook her head, “my God, I'm sorry.”
“My people's story is one of sadness,” Chuni said.
“Okay,” Ashtar said. “So why haven't you people tried to go back until now? Did you lose the way or something?”
Chuni pulled a small holographic projector out of her bag. It immediately projected a constellation of stars in the air. “These are the Sacred Stars. This symbol, the six points that make it up, is the crest of the Royal House and from Ghornath Prime, you can see the star cluster.”
“So... you knew where it was all along?” Alannis asked in confusion.
Ashtar sighed, “The Protectors... they're like gods, right? They ordered you to leave so you never returned.”
“That is part...” Chuni nodded. “Another part is that it requires a Nogathi to lead us. The Royal Family never felt it was time and the others... they were focused on atoning for their sins. We eventually rebuilt our civilization, and then...”
“And then you lost it,” Alannis shook her head. “Again, I'm sorry.”
“It is history,” Chuni said. “Now we are a scattered people, looking for a home. Now, we believe, is the time to return.”
“What about the Protectors, do you think they're still out there?” Alannis asked.
Chuni hesitated, “There are whispers in the fleet, after the first attack, that this must be the wrath of the Protectors. That we have drawn their wrath again for our presumption.”
“What do you think?” Alannis asked.
“I think the ones who attacked us are mortal. That the beings who have the ability to warp shadow space would be able to shatter our fleet without the use of ships... or if they must, then we could not hope to damage or destroy their ships as we did this enemy. I think we don't know who they are, but we will learn it in time.”
“Don't worry,” Ashtar said, “We've got our best and brightest working on the wreckage we found, I'm sure they'll figure it out soon enough.”
Yeah, Alannis thought, our best and brightest... if only in their own minds.
***
“No! I'm not going to do it and you can't make me!” Rory shouted.
I hate my life, Ensign Elvis Medica thought to himself. He'd had the best engineering scores of his class, the pick of any ship in the Fleet. He had thought that picking the Constellation would be a challenge, that learning the new technology of its systems would be a learning experience. I could have done anything with my life and here I am, babysitting these two nitwits.
“All you need to do,” Elvis said, “is look at this one device, okay?”
“You don't understand,” Feliks said. “We are very, very busy, yes? We will get to this pet project of yours later.” Feliks looked back down at his chess board and moved a piece.
Elvis lost the last ragged edge of his patience, “Look, you two idiots. This isn't some pet project. The people who used this device, they attacked a Ghornath fleet. We could run into them at any moment, they might have the ability to tap into ansible communications... we have to be able to fight them and we don't know anything about them!” Elvis was done with playing nice with these two. Rory just walked over people and Feliks just ignored them.
“Yes, yes,” Rory waved his hands, “you're very concerned, I get it, okay? But this is all small stuff, it is peanuts! We're dealing with world-ending things, here, end of the world, humanity endangered, that sort of thing. We're far too busy to help. Besides, I don't even need to look at that, I could tell you what it was when you brought it in.”
“It is really quite trivial,” Feliks said. “Rory, it is your move.”
Rory moved a chess piece, “Why don't you go and do whatever it is that you navy types do when you aren't bothering us?”
Elvis gritted his teeth, “Look, I don't think you have any idea about what this thing is, that's why you don't want to help. You just don't want to be exposed as frauds.”
Rory and Feliks both looked up from their chess game. “Frauds? Frauds?!” Rory demanded.
“Oh, you really should not have said that,” Feliks shook his head.
“I'll have you know,” Rory shouted irately, “that I have seven Masters Degrees in engineering and four PhD's in applied sciences! I have more accumulated knowledge in my head than you can even begin to contemplate.” He rose from the table and moved to the work bench. “This thing? This thing is so simple you could figure it out yourself if you'd bothered, instead of foisting it off on me!”
“And me,” Feliks muttered, “it always gets pushed onto me when he doesn't want to look at it.”
“I was told to give it to you two,” Elvis said.
“Oooh,” Rory waved his hands in the air, “He was told, he's a military mind, he just does what he's told... tell me, did you even look at it before you brought it in?”
“Yes,” Elvis snapped, “I did, there's some circuitry, it looks like a computer or something, it's not designed like anything else we've seen, so I figured it was alien.”
“Right,” Rory threw his hands back, “it's funny looking, that means it must be of alien manufacture. It isn't as if some idiot engineer somewhere didn't just design it to look different because he felt like it, or because the pieces he had on hand were shaped different, or just because he was drunk and couldn't draw a straight line that morning.”
Rory rotated the device until the access panel was facing upwards. “What is this?”
Elvis Medica sighed, “It's an access panel.”
“And this?” Rory demanded pointing at the fastening bolts.
Elvis gritted his teeth, “it's a fastening bolt...” he trailed off as he noticed the bolts were of standard human manufacture. “It's a human fastening bolt.”
“Ah, he begins to understand,” Feliks said without looking up from the chess set. He moved a piece, “Your move Rory.”
“Pawn to Knight Three,” Rory said. “Should be checkmate in six moves, five if you move your king.” He pulled off the access panel, “All the parts inside are human manufacture. I fed it power at standard voltages and I even got it to boot up. It's an engineering module off a computer console. That's it, Ensign. Nothing special. The parts and pieces are assembled to match a specific parameter, out of human parts. The rest of the junk you and your enlisted men brought... that's all human manufacture too. The serial numbers are filed off, but it's all made with standard components you could get on almost any human world.”
“But...” Elvis shook his head, “the people who attacked the Ghornath... they're human?”
“He didn't say that,” Feliks said from the chess set. “He said that they used parts manufactured on human worlds.” He leaned his king down, “Another defeat.”
Rory rolled the engineering module away and Elvis winced as it wobbled on the edge of the table, but the work bench's tractor beams caught it and prevented it from falling. “The software isn't human constructed, though,” Rory said. “Whoever the attackers were, they wiped the code on this thing. I only managed to find a few traces of it and Feliks and I have been running simulations for days trying to reconstruct it.”
Feliks pointed at a console next to him, “To date, we have run over sixty-four thousand comparisons with human and alien software. If there is any way to identify the origins of the code on the machine, we'll do it.”
“So, Ensign, can you kindly go bother someone else? In addition to running that we're also simulating technology extrapolations for the Ghornath, trying to figure out what they might have started with and lost in their exile and what kind of technology these “Protectors” of theirs might have.”
“Yes, sorry,” Elvis shook his head, he felt like an idiot. “What's the chess board for? Is it some kind of sixty-four bit decryption technique?”
“This?” Feliks looked up, “oh, no, we just like to play chess.”
***
Captain Daniel Beeson looked up at the tap on his hatch.
“Sir, Lieutenant Busch reporting,” the communications officer said.
“Come in,” Daniel said, “close the hatch behind you, please.” He waited as she toggled the hatch behind her and the came to parade rest in front of his desk. He had little doubt that she knew why he'd made this appointment with her. She should be nervous, or anxious, or possibly even afraid. She wasn't. There was an edge of almost... smugness to her posture, as if she thought she was finally where she had wanted to be.
“Lieutenant,” Daniel said, “I've called you in because the XO is disappointed in your overall performance. There's been some marked issues with not just your overall work, but also with some of your behavior as an officer.”
Her face hardened as he spoke. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Daniel asked.
“Sir,” Lieutenant Busch said, “I think that most of the XO's disagreements with my behavior come back to a clash of personalities. I think if I reported more directly to you, you would see that my performance is unquestioned.”
Daniel's eyebrows lowered dangerously. She had just insinuated that Commander Bowder either had a personal grudge against her or that he was unable to allow her to perform her duties. Either way, he thought, that's the opposite of trying to improve the situation.
“That's not how things work in the Fleet, Lieutenant,” Daniel said. “You report to the XO and he reports to me. Now, this counseling session will serve as your final warning. I'm giving you this final opportunity to improve your overall performance, if you don't...”
“Sir,” she interrupted him, “I'm sure that I can show a marked improvement to my performance if you had me work directly under you.”
At first he was so shocked that she had interrupted that he didn't catch her meaning. Then he flushed as he did realize what she meant. “Are you insinuating sexual favors in return for a favorable evaluation, Lieutenant?”
“Sir,” she said with a smirk, “it is entirely within regulations that two consenting adults have a relationship as long as it doesn't directly affect the chain of command. It's also been shown that sex can improve overall morale and mental performance.” She gave a slight shrug, “if you see some improvement in my work quality as a result of a personal relationship I developed, then who would I be to disagree?”
Daniel stood slowly from his chair. “Lieutenant, allow me to make this abundantly clear. I don't know what kind of chickenshit ship you came from or what miserable failures of leaders you served under, but I will not tolerate that kind of behavior here.”
Lieutenant Busch flushed with anger, “You're rejecting me?”
“I'm rejecting a gross disregard for regulations and a severe failure in your personal and professional ethics,” Daniel snapped. “And I'll remind you that just for insinuating a willingness to violate General Order Seventeen and Twenty Three, I could press charges and have you court-martialed.”
Her face went pale, “Sir...”
“Lieutenant, I'm not finished,” Daniel snapped. “I called you in here for what was already a fairly serious set of failures on your part. Your behavior here has only reinforced my belief that you are not fit for the uniform you wear. Upon our arrival back in United Colonies space, I will push to have you removed from the service. I'm giving you official notice that I have recorded this session and I will submit the recording to the Judge Advocates in order to proceed with full, formal charges.”
“You can't do this...” Lieutenant Busch protested.
“No,” Daniel shook his head, “You can't continue to disgrace the uniform. For now, consider yourself confined to quarters. I will inform the Master of Arms to revoke your security access and enforce confining you to the ship.”
“What did I do wrong?” Lieutenant Busch protested.
“The fact that you don't understand is probably the worst.” Daniel sat down at his desk, feeling a bit hollow as he let go of the anger. “Clearly, Lieutenant, someone in your chain of command failed you, possibly at numerous points in your career. We are a professional military organization, there is no room for favoritism or fraternization.”
He stared at her face and he didn't know whether he was glad or disappointed that she still didn't seem to understand. Perhaps if she'd shown remorse or regret it would have been worse. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”
****
“Ensign Giovanni,” Commander Bowder snapped.
Alannis backed out of the control access panel and popped to attention, “Sir!” She was covered in grime and sweat, she'd been at the repairs for the past five hours. Not that she needed to be so involved, but she wanted to know how the weapons systems worked, so she had cornered Petty Officer Muna and convinced him to let her help.
So far, at least, she thought she'd been a help. At least, Petty Officer Muna had stopped grumbling after she pointed out several worn conduits that needed replacement.
The XO had a scowl on his face and he looked like even more like a grumpy bear with a toothache than normal. “You haven't answered your comm, Ensign.”
“Sorry, sir,” Alannis said. “I've been buried in that control panel for the past few hours, I hadn't noticed it chiming.”
“Hmm,” Commander Bowder growled. “Well, I suppose you were doing your duty. Still, while I applaud your dedication, it would behoove you to pay a bit more attention.”
“Sir,” Alannis nodded, feeling sweat trickle down her back and between her breasts.
“Well,” Commander Bowder said. “You've been transferred back to the communications department, effective three hours ago.”
“Sir?” Alannis asked in shock. What did I do wrong? She wondered. Had she screwed something up? Is Lieutenant Commander Douglass unhappy with my performance?
“It's not meant as a punishment, Ensign,” the XO read her expression. “You're being assigned as the department head. Lieutenant Busch has been relieved. You are the only officer aboard who has trained on the Constellation's communication systems. You've got your work cut out for you.”
Alannis's eyes went wide.
“Quite the promotion to head of department, Ensign,” the XO said, “don't screw it up.”
***
Chapter VIII
Unknown System
(Status Unknown)
November 30, 2407
The Constellation emerged into the star system and immediately alarms began to wail.
“Sir, we've got major radiation warnings!” Lieutenant Cassat called out. “I'm picking up extreme solar activity. It looks like a pair of close-orbit binary stars.”
Daniel winced at that. Most such star systems were notoriously unstable. It wasn't uncommon for them to experience major solar storms and flares, to the point that humans generally avoided even transiting through such a system unless absolutely necessary.
He looked over at Leader Chuni, who squatted near the communications console, “It is fine, Captain,” she said. “Your defense screens and radiation screen should protect the vessel from the worst of it until we reach the base.”
Daniel frowned, but he waited as she directed Ensign Giovanni on where to send the codes. Lieutenant Cassat looked extremely unhappy at having most of his sensors locked down. Really, even their basic navigational sensors would be enough to give them enough information on the system to discern a location... but there was no way that Daniel would agree to locking those down as well. Especially not in a close-orbit binary star system, he thought to himself.
“We have clearance, Captain,” Ensign Giovanni said. “They've transmitted entry coordinates.”
“Good, let's get moving,” Daniel said.
They had emerged near a planet and he had assumed that it would be their destination. He wasn't wrong, for their course plotted for the dark side of the planet. With nothing more than basic navigational sensors, they couldn't detect whether the planet hosted any kind of biosphere or not... though Daniel would be surprised if it did. The bombardment of high energy particles from the binary stars would make long-term survival extremely hazardous.
As they came into the planetary shadow, Daniel felt his breathing ease a bit. The radiation counters dropped rapidly. In fact, they dropped more than he would have expected, which suggested that not only did the planet shelter them, but it also must have a seriously powerful magnetic field.
“We are certain it is your people giving us orders, right?” Daniel asked of Chuni.
She nodded, “They have the right codes, sent and received by laser transceiver. Also, Ensign Giovanni confirmed that Strike Leader Burbeg has arrived.”
“He beat us here, huh?” Daniel asked.
“He was able to take a shortcut,” Leader Chuni said. She seemed to have better control over her emotions than most Ghornath he had met, she didn't give anything away. No wonder they sent her over here, he thought.
“Right, then,” Daniel said. “What do we do now?”
“Sir,” Ensign Giovanni said, “We're receiving a transmission from the planet's surface.”
“Send it through,” Daniel said.
A familiar human face appeared on the screen. Kandergain, Daniel thought, well, I did mention it would be nice to have a psychic navigator.
“Captain Beeson,” Kandergain said. “It is good to see a United Colonies ship. It's been a while.”
“Ma'am,” Daniel said. He didn't know if she had any kind of military rank, but it never hurt to be polite. “We didn't expect to see anyone but Ghornath here at their base.”
Kandergain grinned, “Their base, is it?” She shook her head, “Well, there certainly are a lot of them around here. Strike Leader Burbeg told me what brought your ship here. I can assure you that your vessel should be safe here in geosynchronous orbit, so if you want to send crews down to get some fresh air, feel free.”
“I was under the impression that time is a limiting factor,” Daniel said.
“Oh, I'm sure you can wait a couple days,” Kandergain replied. “If nothing else, I'm certain whichever poor Ghornath they put aboard your ship would like a chance to stretch out a bit.”
“Fine,” Daniel said. He felt there was something else behind the psychic's words. Whatever it was, though, he doubted she'd tell him directly. “We'll drop shuttles for the surface if you'll provide us with coordinates. Are we still on sensors blackout?”
“Optical sensors only, not that most of the rest of your sensors will be of much use,” Kandergain said. “Between the magnetic interference and radiation, there's not much you'd be able to see anyway.”
“Okay,” Daniel said. He nodded at Kandergain, “We'll draw up a rotation for the crew. Would you like to come aboard, ma'am?”
“I'm afraid not. If you come down, I'd like a chance to talk with you,” Kandergain said. “Also, I have a mail packet that needs to go to the United Colonies. I was going to send it through other means, but you're more likely to get it to where it needs to go.”
“Right,” Daniel said. As she cut the call, he wondered just what he had gotten himself into... and just how bad things were if Kandergain were involved.
***
Alannis had maintained her military pilot's license, which meant that she was able to talk her way onto one of the first shuttles down to the planet as a backup pilot.
Not that she had much to do on the descent. Chief Petty Officer Darini handled the flight without issues, but it did give her an excellent view of the planet as they descended.
Not that there was much to see. The planet was wreathed in thick storm clouds. As they broke atmosphere, the wind buffeted them about quite a bit, but the Chief Petty Officer handled the rough air currents with little difficulty.
As they broke out of the lower layer of clouds, she picked out the valley and the landing area by the coordinates they'd been given. She did feel a bit of surprise at just how little of the base was visible even from this short distance. There was no beacon and the base practically disappeared within the rough and weathered rock ridges that it sheltered in.
“Not much to see, eh?” Chief Petty Officer Darani grunted.
“Yeah,” Alannis said, “It doesn't look like much.” Just down the valley there was a large lake and she could just make out the rusting shape of a crashed vessel, half drawn up on the south shore of the lake. Apparently someone didn't get the welcome mat thrown out for them, she thought.
They swept over it and circled, and a moment later a concealed hatch opened wide, revealing a large hangar hidden below. Darani muttered something under his breath as he brought the shuttle around and then dropped it through the hatch. It was a massive door, she saw, with room for both shuttles and more to spare.
“Well,” he said, “here we are.” He gave her a shrewd look, “I'll assume you won't be headed back up with me when I leave?”
Alannis shrugged, “Well... I do have a full eight hour shift down here. I assume you're leaving as soon as you're fueled up?”
“That I am,” He shook his head, “Officers.” He said it with a grunt of humor, though, so she didn't take it bad. “Nah, ma'am, I've got it. Though if I'd known you were certified, I would have added you to the flight roster. We're short a couple pilots, so if we have to do a combat drop, we may need the assistance.”
She nodded, “As long as the Captain can spare me from communications...”
“I'm sure he can spare one lowly Ensign,” Chief Darani grinned. “Now get off my bird, ma'am, and go get some fresh air. I want to get some more stick time.”
***
“Listen up, Marines!” Ensign Ashtar Shan shouted out. “Now, the Captain in his infinite wisdom decided that you all need some fresh air.”
“Hooah!” one joker in the back called out.
“I'm glad you agree,” Ashtar smiled. “Because Leader Chuni mentioned that her Ghornath warriors haven't had anyone to train against besides each other and she would love the opportunity to undertake some force on force training.”
The grins and cheers turned into groans. “Now,” Ashtar grinned, “she's having them tune down a few of their training rounds so they won't be lethal to us mere humans, but you can expect that won't take too long. They've apparently cleared most of the wildlife out of this valley, but they warn the beasties outside that valley are extremely hostile. They apparently train in the valley pretty often so they know the terrain. That means we have until they get ready to familiarize ourselves.”
She gave a sweet smile, “Get busy Marines.”
***
Alannis wasn't really surprised when she came down the ramp and found Kandergain awaiting her. “Ma'am,” she said as politely as she could manage.
“Hello Alannis,” Kandergain said. “Walk with me a bit?”
“Sure,” Alannis said and followed the tall, blonde woman away from the shuttle.
Great, she thought, just what I wanted, to spend my free time with my brother's... well, she didn't really know what Kandergain was. She and Lucius hadn't exactly married. She knew Lucius loved her, but she didn't see how Kandergain could feel the same way. She'd left him, after all.
The mother of my niece, she thought, I suppose that sounds better than my brother’s lover or squeeze.
“So,” Kandergain asked, “how is Lucius doing?”
“Oh, great,” Alannis said. “Raising two girls on his own and trying to run a nation. You know, fun times.”
Kandergain winced at Alannis's sarcastic tone. “I had to leave,” she said. “If I hadn't, the Shadow Lords would have attacked. Even if they didn't overwhelm the Fleet he's put together, they would have weakened it enough that the Balor would.”
“I wouldn't know about that,” Alannis said. “I do know he misses you and that he's struggling to be a single parent, raising a child who wants to know where her mother is and an adopted daughter who lost her mother trying to protect your daughter.”
Kandergain gave her a shrewd look, “So... are we talking about Lucius... or you?”
Alannis flushed, “What happened between Reese and I is different!”
“He betrayed your trust,” Kandergain said. “Now, don't get me wrong, I'm hardly defending him. He worked with Admiral Mannetti and who knows what he's up to now?”
Alannis pursed her lips together, “Look, if you're about to lecture me about my son...”
“I hardly have any room to stand in that regard,” Kandergain said bitterly. “Trust me, I know that well enough. I'm not trying to be critical... I'm just asking you not to judge me.”
Alannis shrugged, but she didn't argue. Family, she thought, is always the biggest mess.
“So, is that why you wanted to talk with me?” Alannis asked. “Clear the air a bit?”
“While it was an awkward conversation that I've been meaning to have, it's not really the main reason, no,” Kandergain sighed. “Despite what you may think, I haven't been hiding out here on this paradise planet just waiting for you to show up. I just got back from... well, I won't bore you with the details.”
She sighed again, “This war that we've been fighting in the shadows has started heating up. I'm not sure what the cause is, but it's like every one of the major players is getting more desperate. The Shadow Lords, the Balor... even some of the side players are starting to make plays we never expected. And this business with the Ghornath... I think it's part of it.”
“You think the Balor or the Shadow Lords are involved?” Alannis asked. Half the crew had discussed the identity of the mystery fleet and where it had come from. The fact that the attackers had used human technology made it seem more and more likely that originated with the Shadow Lords.
“I don't know,” Kandergain said, “that itself makes me nervous. Information is the key, knowledge is power... and if this isn't from one of the known players then that means half the assumptions I've been operating under are wrong. I don't think I need to explain why that would be a bad thing.”
Alannis shook her head. Lucius had told her some about the mysterious John Mira and his prophesies or predictions. Those predictions were what Kandergain and her group seemed to operate off of, a playbook based off a long-dead precognitive who had given his life to try and prevent the destruction of the human race.
“So what do you want me to do?” Alannis asked.
“Keep your eyes open,” Kandergain said. “If you find out anything, pass it along. I'll give you some contact information, places you can drop information so that it'll get passed along to me.”
“You don't trust the ansible network either?” Alannis asked.
“I don't trust anything anymore,” Kandergain said, her gaze going distant.
“Kandergain!” a cheerful voice shouted out. A moment later another tall blonde woman rushed over. She was as tall as Kandergain, much taller than Alannis, and she was stunningly beautiful, with curly blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and perfect features that made Alannis feel ugly and squat in comparison. Great, she thought, just the reminder I needed about why I'm single.
“Ariadne,” Kandergain said with a nod, “we have news?”
“We do,” the other woman said. “He'll be arriving at Cuatl in two days.” Alannis blinked at that, the planet lay in the Quadi system, on the far side of human space. She didn't know why any information about that system would be so valuable.
“Oh, hello!” Ariadne noticed Alannis, “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Not a problem,” Alannis said, “we were just finishing up.” She looked at Kandergain, “Sister?”
Kandergain snorted, “No relation. Though the information she brings means I need to get going. Here's the list I told you about. Take care... and give Lucius my love.” She pressed a slip of paper into Alannis's hands and then hurried away.
Alannis didn't know whether to be offended or relieved. She looked at Ariadne, “Uh, shouldn't you be following her?”
“No, we just got here,” she gushed. Just about everything she did seemed to be cheerful. “It's good to be off the ship. You have no idea how stinky a Wrethe and Ghornath can get on a small shuttle.”
That was a thought that Alannis didn't want to have. She wondered why she'd have a Wrethe aboard her shuttle. Perhaps for a prisoner? For that matter, she wondered just what it was that Ariadne did for Kandergain. “Anything to do around here?” Alannis asked.
“Well,” Ariadne said, “I could give you the tour if you'd like...”
***
“So,” Ariadne said, “this is the old storage bays, it's where the Ghornath have sort of taken over.”
“Alannis!” Chuni called out as they came through the hatch. The big female Ghornath stood surrounded by a dozen or more of her fellow Ghornath. “Let me introduce you to my squad!”
“Uh, hi?” Alannis said.
She had thought that Chuni was large, but compared to most of the other Ghornath, she was actually short. Alannis felt as if she were surrounded by giants.
“Hey, Chuni, I didn't know you were back,” Ariadne said. “Rastar, did you see that Chuni was back?”
Alannis noticed that Chuni had gone still. Another Ghornath came in from the corridor. Unlike the others, Rastar wore an eye-searing floral pattern shirt. It was made up of purple, orange, and bright green and Alannis was somewhat surprised that the shirt didn't trigger seizures in everyone who saw it. She hadn't known that so much of such hideous cloth existed in all of the universe.
“Rastar, we are about to train against the human Marines,” Chuni rumbled. “You are welcome to participate.”
“Hey, yeah, that would be really great!” Rastar rumbled. He stood even taller than the other Ghornath in Chuni's squad. “I'll go get my training rounds...”
As he rushed off, Chuni looked around, “We'll be training against the humans. They fight well, so do not underestimate them. Get into your gear and ready yourself, Haramat will have readied our training rounds so that they won't accidentally kill any of our allies.”
As her squad rushed off, Alannis moved closer to Chuni, “So... who's Rastar?”
Chuni started, as if she had forgotten about Alannis's presence. “Rastar? He is a warrior, Rastar Bastaff Antor, we grew up in the same refugee camp.”
Alannis knew she wasn't imagining the shift of colors along her friend's hide. “Chuni... are you and Rastar, uh, seeing each other?”
“What?” Chuni spun and looked around as if to make certain no one had overheard. “Alannis,” she hissed, “do not say such a thing, you do not know how dangerous such words can be!”
“Why?” Alannis asked. “He seems to be working outside your chain of command. You aren't related or something, right?”
Chuni shook her head, “Rastar is Xurok, dishonored. Most of my warriors can barely stand to be in the same room as him. They will stomach training against him only because they think it will give them the opportunity to prove he is inferior.”
Alannis stared at her. It was a reminder that aliens were alien. “Chuni, what did he do that was so wrong? He seemed nice enough.”
“He didn't do anything,” Chuni said. “His father... well, it is a long story. He carries the shame of his family and without some great effort on his part, he will die as Xurok. Any children he has will carry that shame... and we Ghornath do not mate casually, it would be with the intention of raising children.”
I didn't say a thing about mating, Alannis thought to herself, but she kept her mouth shut. “It seems like you respect him, despite this dishonored thing. Why would it matter what others think?”
Chuni shook her head, “No, you do not understand. I cannot, I will not view Rastar as anything more than an acquaintance. Even to profess friendship would threaten to contaminate my honor. My duty demands more of me.”
Alannis didn't really understand. For that matter, she wasn't certain that Chuni really understood. It sounded more like she had spoken as much to convince herself as to explain it to Alannis. “Okay, sure. So you're going to have Rastar on the human side of this exercise?”
“Yes,” Chuni nodded. She grinned, “It will tip the scales a bit more back towards the human side, since they are so outnumbered. Plus, it will be good to teach my warriors some humility. He is, in fact, a magnificent fighter.”
“Will your, uh, Chigathi-Ho gain any respect for him if he defeats them?” Alannis asked.
“No,” Chuni said. “They might, as individuals, respect his accomplishments, but they will not publicly praise him. Only a truly heroic act could remove the stain to his honor, something to counter the failure of his father.”
“Trust me, I know all about that kind of thing,” Alannis muttered. She thought about her own father, who had betrayed his Emperor and tried to seize power in the Nova Roma Empire. For that matter, there were at least two copies of him running around, one of whom supported the Centauri Confederation and another who worked for Shadow Lord Imperious. His legacy had been a shadow that had prevented her from having any real friends as a child and had prevented her from having a military career as she grew older.
“Well,” she said, “I think it's bogus that your people treat him that way.”
Chuni shrugged, “It is a thing of honor. He understands it.”
“Well,” Alannis said, “if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go see if Ashtar needs any help for this fight. I happen to like underdogs... whether they understand why they are or not.”
Chuni didn't respond as Alannis walked away.
***
“Captain, thanks for meeting with me,” Kandergain said.
Daniel gave her a nod, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We scrubbed the computers from the pirates you and Burbeg encountered. It seems they were based out of the Gamma Serpentis system, a marginally inhabitable planet called Sapphire.”
“Oh?” Daniel asked. He hadn't known there were any human colonies out that far.
“Apparently it’s a sort of trade hub out here,” Kandergain said. “From what some of your prisoners said, there's a pirate warlord who's trying to turn it into a slaver's paradise. They also mentioned it isn't he only pirate base out this way... apparently there may be another in the Akris system... or at least, no one's ever returned from there.”
“Akris?” Daniel asked, “I've never heard of it.”
“Neither had I, but Burbeg has... in his people's histories, it was one of the first systems they came to after they left their Gates of Hallidas.”
Daniel grimaced. He'd already assumed they'd have to go the Gamma Serpentis system, now it appeared they'd have to visit this other pirate system as well. “Okay,” he said, “Pirates we can deal with, I suppose. You mentioned slavers, too?”
She nodded, “I gather the Gamma Serpentis system has a large slave population. Humans, mostly, but also some Chxor, Ghornath, and even maybe some Wrethe.”
Daniel frowned, he couldn't imagine someone wanting a Wrethe slave. You have to worry about one of them ripping your face off even when they don't have a good reason, he thought. “Okay, so that precludes us opening fire and just blasting them out of space. We're short on foodstuffs anyway, we'll probably try to take on food at one of the two systems.”
“From what I gather, Sapphire is your best bet, they've got a barter economy going there. Some of the precious metals that the scavengers had might go towards that, assuming you don't mind sacrificing the prize money.”
Daniel shrugged, “I think Commander Bowder inventoried it already. So we can pull equivalent values and then replace the cost to the crew from ship's funds.” They hadn't really bothered with the ships themselves although Burbeg had said he’d take care of them. Daniel supposed they might have some value, but they'd probably just end up as pirate vessels again... and he didn't want any part in money towards those purposes.
“What will you be doing with the pirate ships?” Daniel asked.
“Oh, we have some allies who could use the firepower,” Kandergain said with a grin. “They'll be put to good use, trust me.”
Daniel shrugged, “As long as we never see them as pirate vessels again, I'm not too worried about it. The pirates?”
Kandergain smiled, “The nastiest of the lot have already been dealt with. Burbeg asked for my assistance in identifying the real monsters. Some of the others... well, we've got a serious labor shortage. We gave them the option of working their sentences off here or the noose. I can't say I'm surprised that many of them chose hard labor.”
Daniel frowned, “That's not much better than slavery, is it?”
She shrugged, “Most of the surviving pirates aren't rapists or murderers, but they still supported and enabled pirates who were. For that matter, they still robbed and stole and profited from murder and slavery. I can't say I care too much if they spend the rest of their lives in hard labor... do you?”
“No,” Daniel said after a moment of consideration, “No, I can't say that I do.”
***
In the early morning light, Alannis limped painfully towards the outer door to the base. She watched as the mixed group of Ghornath and humans trudged tiredly up the hill behind her. “Did you see the LT?” one of the Marines asked in a low voice. “She doesn't even look tired!”
Ashtar stood at the hatch and watched with sharp eyes as the rest of her platoon trudged up the hill. Alannis could tell that her friend was tired, but her pride and stubbornness kept her back straight. And the fact that her Marines forgot she wasn't a Marine Lieutenant probably doesn't hurt, either, Alannis thought with amusement. The Fleet jokes had stopped after the first training sessions aboard ship... and this exercise made most of those look like child's play.
“Man!” Rastar slapped Gunny Tam on the back, “you guys fight pretty well. That was really awesome how you got the Chigathi-Ho in that crossfire!”
Alannis hid a smile as she thought about how that had gone. In their powered armor, they were immune to just about any standard weapons... but the United Colonies Marines had some heavy firepower and much of it had “training” settings.
More than a few of the Ghornath powered armor looked a bit scorched and a couple of them with their helmets off had glares leveled in Rastar's direction, but none of them spoke up.
They had in fact, been caught in a nasty crossfire... and Rastar had been the bait in that trap. “Man,” Rastar said, “I'd love to do this again sometime.”
To his credit, Gunny Tam just gave the big alien a smile and a nod, “you fight well, Rastar. Maybe we can work together in the future.”
That had more than a couple of the Chigathi-Ho looking away and turning white in shock or yellow in embarrassment. For that matter, more than a few of the other, non-armored Ghornath warriors hung their heads. Then again, none of them had fought poorly... they'd just gone into the fight assuming that their human opponents would be easy prey.
The “quick” training exercise had turned into a running gunfight over sixteen hours. Alannis sported a black eye, a couple of the Marines had cracked ribs, and she didn't know if anyone really had any idea who had “won.” Both sides had been felled almost to the last Marine and Ghornath on either side. The handful of “survivors” had spent two hours going around applying the anti-paralytics in order to get everyone moving back to the base.
“Well,” Alannis muttered as she moved to stand next to Ashtar, “that went well.”
“My back is killing me,” Ashtar muttered. “I'm pretty sure my spine is compacted from a Ghornath landing on me. All I want to do is collapse on my bunk and sleep for a week.”
“Me too,” Alannis replied. “Just think, though, the Ghornath are going to want a rematch.” Ashtar glared at her and Alannis gave her a tired smile in reply, “The reward for hard work is more work, my friend.”
“I hate you so much right now,” Ashtar muttered.
***
Chapter IX
Gamma Serpentis system
Neutral Space
December 12, 2407
The Constellation emerged from shadow space and Captain Daniel Beeson gave a smile as his crew moved quickly and professionally about their duties.
“No hostiles in range, sir,” Lieutenant Cassat said. “I'm picking up the inhabited world, Sapphire. About a dozen ships in orbit.”
“I have a least-time course plotted, sir,” Lieutenant Forsberg said.
“Weapons standing by, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Douglass said.
“Communications online, sir,” Ensign Giovanni said. “No transmissions yet from the planet.”
I'm sure that will come soon enough, he thought. He'd ordered Lieutenant Cassat to go with full active sensors. Their ship would be a beacon to anything else in the system. Not only would the pirates see them coming and realize that his cruiser wasn't afraid of anything they had... but Lieutenant Cassat's sensor crew should notice any mines or defenses that might be a threat along their course.
His ship had emerged from shadow space only five hundred thousand kilometers from Sapphire. Daniel brought up the feed from the telescopic camera on the main screen. The planet was actually quite beautiful, planet covered in ocean, with only a few rocky islands. The oceans were a deep, vibrant blue, a color that made Daniel want to go swimming... though from what he'd heard, it would be a little cold for swimming. Fifteen degrees Celsius, he thought, probably a little cold for sunbathing too.
“Start us on that course of yours, Lieutenant Forsberg” Daniel said. “Let’s see if they want to talk to us then.”
***
“Boss, boss!” A hand shook James Copley's shoulder and the pirate king grunted.
His head hurt too much. “Go away,” he snarled and buried his head under something soft and muffling.
“Boss, there's a ship coming in! It ain't one of ours!”
“Blast 'em and loot the wreckage,” John grumbled. “Go away.”
The hand shaking his shoulder didn't let up. “Boss, it's a cruiser, a military one! They're scanning the whole system, probes and radar and everything!”
“What?” John sat up quickly. Too quickly. He felt his breakfast of raw liqour shift in his stomach and he had to turn and vomit. Most of it splashed on the floor, but some of it spattered his bed and the woman who shared it with him. She didn't as much as flinch, though she continued to snore. Matilda, he thought absently, that's her name, she captains the Widowmaker. He liked his women willing, so he didn't use slave girls. Besides, as the Pirate King of Sapphire, it wasn't as if there weren't any women willing to sleep with him.
Mathilda didn't look like much, but she was strong and fun and she wasn't afraid of his big dreams like some women were.
Copley struggled to his feet and pulled on a robe. It had seen better days, but so had he. Right now, he didn't care too much how he looked. “Have they said anything?” John asked, his throat raw from stomach acid.
“Not yet, should I call them?” John didn't remember this particular lieutenant's name. It wasn't as if he chose them for their initiative. Smart and capable pirate Lieutenants were likely to mutiny. James Copley had learned that lesson early on in his career... right around the time he killed his captain and took over. Not that anyone will miss that sick bastard, he thought.
“No, I want to be the one to talk to them,” John belched and then went over to his wardrobe. He dug through it for a moment and pulled out a uniform. It was one he hadn't worn in decades, not since he'd had it commissioned by a tailor.
Real navy, he thought. Appearances meant a lot to people like that.
When he had set out to be a pirate, he had never thought it would be as dirty and violent as it had been. James Copley had killed more people than he cared to count. Most of them, the vast majority, he'd killed face to face. He told himself that he'd fought as fair as he could... or at least as fair as he could afford.
Sapphire had been a pipe dream, yet when he'd first laid eyes on the planet, he had seen its potential. He'd told his men that it would be a haven for their kind... and it was... but it could be so much more, he knew.
These people coming in, he thought, they've got weapon and honor and a nation, but I've got a planet, and people.
Not all of those people did what he wanted them to do. Slavers and some of the worst scum of pirates had moved in, but so had some merchants and smugglers. Sapphire wasn't paradise, but it was a waystation, a planet on the edge of human space where ports were few and far between.
He pulled his uniform on quickly enough and he didn't have to hide his smile of pleasure as the blue pants and gold-trimmed jacket fit him just as perfectly as when he'd had it tailored. He might have gone to drink, but he'd still kept in shape.
“Let's go,” James said.
***
“I'm James Copley, the King of Sapphire,” a big, ugly man said over the communication link. To Daniel's surprise, the man wore a uniform, though it didn't look to be of any military he recognized.
“King?” Daniel asked. There was a slight delay over the distance, but that would grow shorter as they approached.
“Well, it's a title that will do as well as any, right?” the man responded. “Now, I think I've been polite, who are you?”
“I am Captain Daniel Beeson of the United Colonies Fleet, this is my ship, the UCS Constellation,” Daniel said.
King Copley nodded, “To what do we owe the pleasure of your unexpected arrival, Captain Beeson?”
How polite of you, Daniel thought. “We're on our way through. We need to take on some supplies and we heard about your world.”
“Oh?” Copley seemed excited by that. “Merchants let you know about our little oasis?”
“No, I'm afraid we ran afoul of some pirates just over six weeks ago,” Daniel said.
Copley scowled at that. “Six weeks... huh, that probably was Arvad and his crew. Waste of oxygen still owed me docking fees when his 'fleet' skipped orbit. I hope you killed them.”
Daniel's eyebrows went up at that. It was more of an honest statement than he had expected. An interesting fellow, this King Copley, he thought. “We captured most of his fleet intact. Many of his crew had committed a number of documented crimes and were executed, some of the others will be spending the rest of their lives in prison.”
“Good,” Copley said. “Well, Captain, as long as your intentions aren't hostile, you are welcome to make port and trade for whatever supplies you need.”
“You seem remarkably calm about a military ship coming into orbit over your world,” Daniel said.
“The way I see it,” Copley replied, “someone was bound to find this place sooner or later. I'd rather be as amenable as possible. And while I'm sure you could blast everything we have in orbit, that won't really help you out much, if that's not what you came here to do, am I right?”
Daniel nodded slightly. It would be far easier to use the local's transport shuttles and infrastructure. “I may be a pirate, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to be useful. While I've never heard of this United Colonies of yours, I can't imagine that they would mind having an outpost out here. We're a bit off the beaten path... but there's a lot of empty systems out here. The war's over with the Chxor, there's no reason that we won't be expanding out this way in a few years.”
“A long-term planner, are you?” Daniel asked as he considered that.
“I set this place up as a trade hub,” Copley replied, “when there was nothing out here but a handful of scavengers fighting over scraps. I've got big dreams.”
“Dreams that include slavery and piracy?”
Copley frowned, “It's not something I like, but they brought in traders and smugglers. Yes, I've profited from it and it's not something I like, but that's just how life is out here on the ragged edge.” He shrugged, “I'd love to get rid of it, but it isn't as if I've a lot of trade partners out here.” His expression practically screamed at Daniel to make him a better offer.
Here I was sort of hoping we could just blast all the pirates back into the stone ages and resupply, Daniel thought absently. Now it looked like he'd end up negotiating... something with this King Copley.
“Well,” Daniel said. “That will have to wait until we can meet in person, I think. How about we agree to avoid any hostilities?”
“No problem,” Copley grinned. “I'll tell my boys not to take potshots at the big scary ship coming into orbit. I'll forward you their transponders so you know who's mine and who isn't.”
“What about the other ships?” Daniel asked.
“Well, I'll tell them to stand down,” Copley smirked, “but half of them are slavers and pirates, so if they take a shot at you, feel free to blast them.” His smile faded a bit, “Oh, and there's a frigate up there called the Widowmaker, leave that one alone, if you would... her Captain is my girlfriend.”
***
“Alright,” Captain Beeson said, as Alannis and the others assigned to the away party stood waiting. “We have three objectives here. Lieutenant Commander Douglass is in charge of the recon team. Your assignment is to evaluate just what is going on down on this planet. The local leader has made me some kind of offer of alliance... maybe even to clean up his act. I want you to find out everything you can and report back.”
Alannis didn't know what all they might learn. It seemed to her that the last people any of the pirates would talk to would be a bunch of men and women in uniform. Still, she wasn't about to say that to the Captain. It was his plan after all.
“Lieutenant Montief will be obtaining foodstuffs and other supplies. Since he's also carrying gold and platinum bullion as trade goods, that's why he has armed Marines with him,” Captain Beeson nodded at the small fire team.
“The last group will be with me. We're going to this Copley's headquarters and I'll discuss things more directly with him,” Captain Beeson said. “If anything goes wrong, get on your comms and contact me. If I don't answer, call the XO here aboard the ship. Worse comes to worse...” he gave a shrug, “we still have the firepower to level this entire place. Hopefully it won't come to that.”
***
Alannis had talked her way into the cockpit again and Chief Petty Officer Darini was at the controls once more. “Things going on, eh, Ensign?”
Alannis snorted, “Not that I really know much. The local pirate chief seems welcoming, the Captain isn't sure this isn't a trap of some kind, now you know as much as I do.”
“Well, it's a pretty world, isn't it, ma'am?” Chief Petty Officer Darini said as they dropped out of the clouds.
“I suppose,” Alannis said. Sapphire looked better than the mystery planet they'd visited. The cobalt blue oceans looked welcoming, though the frigid temperatures she'd seen suggested any swim wouldn't be particularly enjoyable. They swung low over one of the main islands, one of a dozen small island clusters that made up all of the planet's land-mass.
Sapphire City wasn't much, a mix of stone and prefab buildings perched along a harbor area where ocean-going vessels sat docked. The rest of the island was an odd mix of bare, eroded rock and patches of cultivation. Alannis brought up the video from one the plots and shook her head. She could see where soil had been placed and then stabilized to grow crops.
“Place like this,” Chief Petty Officer Darini said, “there's not enough advanced lifeforms, plants or animals, to really get any organic soil. They probably imported all of that, and the bacteria in it, in order to grow what you see there.” He shot her a glance, “place like Sapphire, you save every bit of waste, trash, and even corpses and they all go to making the planet livable.”
Alannis shivered a bit at that. She didn't like the idea of eating something that might have been fertilized with human remains. Then again, she thought, it isn't as if I'll have much choice. The Constellation needed to resupply. The Ghornath battlecruiser had to take on supplies as well and this was the only place to get anything.
Looking at the weathered rock, Sapphire City didn't look anything like a welcoming port. It looked battered and worn and threatening. I have a bad feeling about this, she thought.
***
Reese Leone yawned as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes and checked the time. Ugh, the local star isn't even up yet, he thought, if I wanted to be up this early, I would have stayed in the military. He ignored the chiming of the comm unit that had awakened him for a moment. There was only one person who had the number for that unit, and Reese didn't want to deal with him without a clear head anyway.
He moved over to his bathroom and splashed some water on his face. The amenities were rather rudimentary here, but they were far better than some of the places he'd stayed since becoming a wanted man.
Damn Lucius and damn his vindictive nature, Reese thought. He didn't believe for a second that his former brother-in-law wasn't behind the wanted notices that had appeared on more and more civilized worlds. In the past year alone, he'd had to flee a dozen systems, just ahead of bounty hunters and law enforcement.
I will repay him for that, he thought with a glower. That was part of why he was here, after all. To properly repay Lucius Giovanni and his nascent United Colonies.
He retained that glower as he answered his comm, “What do you want, Rackham?”
The pirate flinched a bit at Reese's glower. Then again, Reese had dealt with far scarier propositions than Jack Rackham in the past few years. Admiral Mannetti makes him look like a school bully, Reese thought. Though Lucretta Mannetti was dead, her backer --and Reese's current patron-- was even more formidable.
“There's a warship that just made orbit,” Rackham said.
“So?” Reese asked. “Pirate vessels make orbit fairly often, Rackham.” In the past two months that he'd been here, trying to find what he needed, there'd been at least a dozen pirate vessels that came and went, in addition to various smuggling and slaving vessels.
“No!” Rackham shook his head, “This isn't pirates; it's a military warship. They say they're part of the United Colonies!”
“They say what?!” Reese demanded. That was impossible. The United Colonies had no reason to be here... none besides him. They wouldn't send a whole warship for that... not unless they had some inclination about his mission here.
“It's a cruiser, with transponders that say United Colonies. Word on the streets is that Copley isn't going to put up any kind of fight... that maybe he worked out some kind of deal with them!”
Not much of a surprise there, Reese thought. He didn't want to think about trying to fight a cruiser with the random assortment of pirate vessels and slaver ships found around Sapphire. While they might be able to take a cruiser in some kind of ambush, they'd be nothing but prey in a real fight.
“How much does Copley know about our business?” Reese demanded. There was every possibility that the pirate king had already sold him out and that a strike team was on its way now. Reese turned away from his screen and began to pack his bags.
“Nothing!” Rackham said. From the strength of his denial, that suggested he'd told Copley something at least. Probably drunken bragging about the wealth Reese promised for his services. If he wasn't my only lead, Reese thought, I'd have him killed for incompetence.
“Well,” Reese said, “You had better hope he doesn't know anything. Contact your supplier. Tell him that we can't wait any longer. It's time for him to call or fold. We'll meet him at his warehouse in one hour.”
“What if he doesn't want to deal?” Rackham asked.
“Then we'll use your contingency,” Reese snapped. “You said you'd selected the men for that, right?”
“Yeah,” Rackham nodded his head, “It's just… we didn't expect to have to move so soon.”
“Have them ready,” Reese said. “I'll meet you there.”
“Where will you be?” Rackham asked.
“Finding out what I can about this warship,” Reese said. And praying that Copley doesn't know enough to sell me out.
***
Chapter X
Sapphire City, Sapphire
Neutral Space
December 12, 2407
Alannis wrinkled her nose at the smell of rotting fish, sewage, and garbage. Sapphire City obviously took their sanitary health very seriously. The rich, powerful smell slammed into her as she stepped off the shuttle and the cool moist air clung to her in an unpleasant fashion. Chief Petty Officer Darani mentioned they use their waste for fertilizer, she thought as her eyes watered, apparently they want very fertile soil here in the city.
What a lovely place, she thought sardonically, I wonder if they have time-shares?
She looked over as Chuni gave her a wave. The big, female Ghornath stood well over the other crew. “Alannis, I thought I would tag along with you, if that would be alright.”
Alannis looked over at Lieutenant Commander Douglass, who seemed absorbed in his datapad, probably reviewing the map they had of the town. “Sure, I don't see why it would be a problem.” They had a small group as it was, a couple of techs from the tactical department, herself and the Lieutenant Commander.
Lieutenant Montief had one squad of their Marine contingent and Alannis sort of wished she could have gone with them. Then again, with how powerful the smell of fish was here... well, she didn't really want to think about how the markets would smell.
“This way,” Lieutenant Commander Douglass said after a moment. Alannis waited for Tech Specialist Spurlock and Petty Officer Peck to lead the way and then fell in behind them. All of them had sidearms and Alannis swept her gaze around as they exited the secure landing platform.
The platform opened up onto part of the street. The spaceport here seemed to be pretty busy, far busier than she would have expected for how remote the system was. Clearly there was significant money to be made in the illicit trades that Sapphire City offered.
She froze as her eyes caught a shock of pale blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. She turned and for just a moment, she saw a familiar face, but then the crowd shifted, too fast for her to be sure she'd seen what she thought. No, she thought, that's not possible.
There was no way Reese would be here. Even if he was, he wouldn't dare show his face someplace where she could identify him. Just for what he'd done to her he faced at least ten years in prison. For his involvement in Admiral Mannetti's work on Halcyon, where local workers had been executed and the planet's citizens had been robbed and raped, he'd probably receive a much longer sentence than that.
“Is there a problem?” Chuni asked.
Alannis shook those thoughts off. She saw that the others had drawn ahead and she hurried to catch up. “No,” Alannis said, “no problem... I just thought I recognized someone.”
“Who would you know in a place like this?” Chuni asked. The derision in her voice was plain to hear. Given the volume with which she directed it, Alannis wasn't surprised at the glares that passersby leveled on the two of them.
“No one I'd care to meet again,” Alannis said bitterly. She must have imagined it. Reese wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.
“Where are we going?” Chuni asked after a long moment.
“Seeing what we can about how this place is made up,” Alannis answered as they turned down a street. She joined the others in moving out of the way as a heavily laden truck drove past. She frowned as she realized that most of the occupants were Chxor... and that they were chained to the truck.
Slaves, she realized with shock.
“Ma'am,” Tech Specialist Spurlock asked, “are they...”
“Yes,” Alannis growled, “those are slaves.” Not that she was particularly fond of Chxor, but slavery was something she detested. Two men armed with rifles sat on the back of the truck and one saw her and gave her a smirk as the truck drove past.
Now that she knew what to look for, she saw a number of human men and women wearing collars. Most of them had their heads down and didn't make eye contact. A mixed gang of Chxor and human laborers, bound together by chains around their ankles, shoveled waste into a compost pen while two more humans stood guard.
She saw slaves everywhere. In fact, they almost seemed to outnumber the free men and women she saw walking around. This wasn't a healthy society, it was one built upon dehumanizing and debasing people.
The Captain might think that they could work something out with the ruler of this place, but she didn't think anyone who could tolerate that sort of thing was someone she would trust.
***
Reese ducked back behind the low wall and pulled out his comm. He fumbled with it with wooden fingers until he finally activated it. “Rackham, its Reese.” He hadn't wanted to try to hack the United Colonies communications, but the spaceport network, such as it was, was easy enough. So he'd been able to find out exactly where the shuttle would land.
“Yeah?” Rackham asked, “We’re getting ready for the meet, you going to make it?”
“No,” Reese said, forcing himself to breath. He'd seen the squad of United Colonies Marines lead the way out, in two teams. Just the kind of thing he would do if he wanted to hit a meeting location from two sides. “Call it off. Tell your supplier to meet us at the ship. Tell him we'll double his asking price, but we sell now or there's no deal.”
Where is Alannis's group going? He wondered. It didn't matter, he supposed. They weren't heavily armed, which meant they weren't part of the group here to take him down.
“Double the price?” Rackham asked in shock. “Reese, that's a lot of gold, I'm not sure...”
“Don't interrupt me again, Rackham,” Reese snarled. “That ship is here for me. They have to know about this sale... which means either you or your supplier tipped them off. We need to get this sale done and get out of here, fast.”
“I'll call him, but if they're looking for us, they might have someone at the ship, Reese,” Rackham said nervously.
Shit, Reese thought, he's right. The sad part was, he'd spent so long working with and against half-assed incompetents that he had forgotten just how methodical real professionals would be.
What he needed was a distraction. Something to get them to focus elsewhere. Better yet, two distractions, one in space and one on the ground. That would let Rackham get his ships into orbit and out of the system. Unless Lucius sent a whole fleet out here...
No, there was such a thing as being too paranoid. If Lucius had a fleet to spare, he would have come in and leveled the planet. He wasn't the type to tolerate a nest of slavers and pirates like this... knocking them off would just be the icing on the cake to stopping Reese's special purchase.
Pirates and slavers, he thought, that's it...
“Rackham, you've got contacts with the slavers, right?” Reese asked.
“Yeah,” Rackham said. “Ricky One-Eye and Two-Fingers. Why, you think we need some labor?” Under other circumstances, Reese would have been disgusted by the very idea of using slave labor. Right now, though, he was too busy to really care.
Reese peeked over the wall, just as Alannis and the Ghornath with her disappeared around the corner. “No... but they probably won't be too happy to see that warship up there. Can you tell them that it's a raid? They're going to impound their ships, free their slaves?”
“What?!” Rackham said, “Reese, if I tell them that, they'll attack! Worse than that, when they find out I lied to them, they'll come after me!”
Reese smiled, “Rackham, you haven't seen the United Colonies Fleet in action, so I'll cut you some slack. When they and whatever pirates or mercenaries they can hire go after that cruiser, they're all going to die.”
“Oh...” Rackham said. “So I wouldn't have to worry about them coming after me, then?”
“Exactly,” Reese said. “But try to get in with them, coordinate a bit, so we know when they launch their attack. That's when we'll make a break for it.” That wouldn't be enough of a distraction, though. Especially not if it was “King” Copley who had sold Reese out. They needed to distract the Marines on the ground...
“Your strike team, they're ready to go?” Reese asked as he moved from behind the wall to edge around the corner. A few hundred meters away, he saw the small group of Fleet personnel. Whatever mission they had, it had to be important if Lucius had ordered his sister along. Maybe they're doing intelligence, he thought, setting up an outpost, perhaps? Yet they were in uniform.
“Yeah,” Rackham said.
“Well, I have a job for them,” Reese said as he stared after his ex-wife.
***
Captain Daniel Beeson frowned a bit as he came to King Copley's “palace.” At first glance it didn't look much different from the other local buildings: a mix of rough-cut stone and prefabricated metal and composite structure. Yet Daniel noticed that it seemed to burrow into the side of the mountain that overlooked the harbor. Possibly a bunker, he thought, clearly built with an eye towards defense.
A dozen men, the best equipped he'd seen so far, stood out front, their faces stern and their eyes watchful. They wouldn't have passed muster in the United Colonies Marines and they had a mix of ragged beards, long or spiked hair, and tattoos... but they held their weapons in a professional manner and their gear wasn't junk.
In fact, he recognized the rifles they carried. They were M-121's of Nova Roman manufacture. Clearly their boss wanted them well-equipped.
“Captain Beeson?” A smiling woman asked. She wasn't wearing body armor like the others. Instead she wore a somewhat-battered ship's suit. In the cold, damp air, it probably was more comfortable than normal clothing.
“Yes,” Daniel nodded.
“Follow me, please,” she said. “King Copley is waiting for you.”
She led the way in. The building decor was an odd mix of wealth and hardscrabble make-do. There weren't a lot of luxuries. No paintings, no piles of furs or gold, none of the pirate stereotypes from holovids... or from what he'd seen of Admiral Mannetti's ships and base.
On a world with no native plant life, it wasn't a surprise that the floor was poured concrete and that the walls were prefabricated metal. Nor was it a surprise that the building had no central heating system, just portable space heaters run with power conduits along the floor.
More surprising was the obvious signs of significant defenses. Daniel noticed firing positions and back-up defensive points. The corridor had several dog-legs to prevent blasts from traveling down the length of the corridor. Past the opening, Daniel's suspicions were confirmed as the complex bored into the solid rock of the island and reinforcing iron struts supported that rock.
Copley's throne room lay in a large, natural chamber. Daniel didn't know much about geology, but he wondered if it was the magma chamber from an extinct volcano. Either Copley has a good sense of humor about these things or else he figured the defensive capabilities outweighed any jokes, Daniel thought. Most of the floor was leveled, although there was a deep and rather ominous pit at the center of the chamber.
“Welcome!” Copley was a big, ugly man, with a bushy beard going to gray. His throne was a battered-looking command chair, complete with a variety of displays and controls. “Good to meet you, Captain Beeson, welcome to my lair.”
A sense of humor, then, Daniel thought with resignation, or at least he thinks so.
“I have to say I'm still a bit surprised at the warm welcome from you,” Daniel said.
“I may be a pirate,” Copley smiled, “but I'm neither stupid nor am I without a certain amount of vision.” He eyed Daniel's Marine escort. “Marines, eh?” There was an edge of something to his voice, almost a bit of challenge.
“You don't approve?” Staff Sergeant Witzke asked in a flat voice.
“Oh, no!” Copley grinned, “I have some respect for what you do. I've got twenty-one years of ground forces experience... before all this, of course.” He gave a wave. “I thought you might want to speak in a more private setting, so I sent most of my associates away. There's just myself and my trusted officers.”
“I appreciate that,” Daniel said. He didn't know just how much he trusted the pirate's officers, but he wasn't going to say that to the man's face.
“Now, then, besides resupply, what brings your ship all the way out here?” Copley said. “Exploration? Charting new trade lanes?”
Wouldn't you like a trade route to come through your system, Daniel thought. “No, it's a purely military endeavor. Following up on an attack that happened in the Gebreynr system and another one in the Iota Persei system. Something of a reprisal mission.”
James Copley winced at the word “reprisal” as well he should. The best and most secure way to eliminate pirates was to wipe out their bases of operations. In this case, that would mean the destruction of everything he'd built. “Well, I can assure you that my people had nothing to do with any attacks on either system.”
“Captain Arvad operated out of this system,” Daniel said.
“He's dead,” Copley said. “And good riddance, the man was incompetent and he ran up a number of debts before his ships broke orbit.”
“There are other pirates who operate here,” Daniel replied.
“Pirates and slavers and mercenaries,” Copley nodded, “and plenty of outlaws, smugglers, and general scum. There's also folks who just want to be left alone and to do their business in peace. We're building a new world out here, Captain, and while I've made some deals with some of the worst scum... well, it isn't as if your United Colonies is out here to do business with, is it?”
Daniel shrugged. “No... but that doesn't excuse the murder, rape, and enslavement that you have profited from, does it?”
Copley looked away, “No... no it doesn't.” He spoke in a low voice, pitched only for Daniel's ears. “Look, Captain Beeson, I know your cruiser up there could level everything down here, but is it really worth it? I've killed. I've profited from the trade going on here... which, yes, includes slavery and stolen goods. But if you destroy what I've built here, you'll undo the little bit of civilization and order I've brought to this system. As soon as you leave, others will slink in and set up shop. The planet is too valuable to be abandoned. There's not enough here to warrant the Colonial Republic's interest and we're too far out for anyone else. That means I'll be replaced by some other scum, maybe someone who allows worse things than I have.”
Daniel's eyes narrowed, “Well, it isn't as if I can allow you to continue as you are, either.”
James Copley gestured at his conference table, “Then sit, we can discuss it.” He gave a grin, “I'm sure we can come to an agreement that your nation can tolerate.”
***
“That bastard Copley is selling us out!” Rickey “One Eye” Johnson growled.
His lieutenants cringed back from him. Bunch of spineless cowards, he thought. Then again, he hadn't picked them for their brains or courage. Smart and capable wasn't a description he wanted for any of his officers. He'd made that mistake once and lost his eye to his second in command when the bastard had led a mutiny.
He died too easy, Rickey thought as his hand went to his ruined eye. “What have we got still in orbit?” Rickey snarled.
“Just the two frigates, boss,” one of his men whined. “Most of our ships are landed, offloading cargo.”
“Yeah,” Rickey grunted, “that's what I thought.” If all his ships had been in orbit, he would have just taken his chances and made a run for it. “We're going to have to call Two-Fingers.”
His men shifted back from him when he said that name. Then again, Two-Fingers was normally the competition. Worse than that, he was a mean-enough bastard that even Rickey was a bit afraid of him. “I'll do it.” Rumor had it that Two-Fingers had been from a rich family back in the Centauri Confederation. Apparently he'd done something back there so horrible that even his family connections couldn't save him.
Rickey limped over to his ship's comm and brought up his communications. In a surprisingly short amount of time, Two-Fingers appeared on his ship's display. “Rickey,” Two-Fingers said, “I take it you heard about that Cowardly Copley plans to sell us out to the Navy boys up in orbit?”
Rickey gave a jerky nod. He couldn't quite manage to make eye contact, even on the display. Two-Fingers was a tall, gaunt man. His voice was calm, but as always there was an edge to his voice, one part mocking and one part unstable. You never knew what Two-Fingers was going to do. Although he booked himself as a pirate, Rickey knew he got most of his money from slaving.
“Your two little pea-shooters wouldn't scratch the armor of a real warship,” Two-Fingers smirked. “So if you want out of this alive, you need my help. You need fighting ships and I... well, I need some people with guns and the will to use them.” Two-Fingers gave a broad wave of his hands, “You do know how to use guns, right Rickey?”
“Yeah,” Rickey growled. “What's your plan?”
“Oh, you'll like it,” Two-Fingers snickered, “Copley thinks he's going to get a better deal... well, I think Sapphire needs a new leader and I wouldn't mind adding a Navy ship to my fleet.”
“You're taking Sapphire and the cruiser?” Rickey snapped, “What the hell is in this for me?!”
“Rickey... Rickey,” Two-Fingers smiled and Rickey shivered. “Do what I tell you and you get the best reward of all... you get to live.”
***
Alannis frowned as her group rounded a corner. Lieutenant Commander Douglass had sent Tech Specialist Spurlock and Petty Officer Peck back to the shuttle while their group continued on. The streets, until now, had been crowded and busy.
This street, though, lay almost empty. A scrawny, mangy dog slunk away from them. “Sir...” Alannis started to speak, but Lieutenant Commander Douglass was already halfway down the street.
“This doesn't look right,” Chuni said, her head sweeping the area for threats.
“Sir!” Alannis rushed forward to where Lieutenant Commander Douglass was, “Sir, we need to get out of here, there's something...”
Just as she reached him, she saw a half dozen armed men spill out onto the street around them. Lieutenant Commander Douglass went down. Stunner hit, Alannis thought as she saw her former boss start to twitch and jerk. Alannis's hand dropped to her holstered pistol, but before she could draw it, a stunner hit her.
The pain overwhelmed her senses. She couldn't see, couldn't hear, her body jerked and she tasted blood from where she must have bit her tongue. The electrical current let up, but Alannis was too shaken to put up a fight as someone jerked her hands behind her back and tied her wrists.
“What do we do with the man?” One of their attackers asked.
“Boss said the woman was the important one,” another man said. “Kill him.”
“No!” Alannis shouted. She twisted around so that she could see Lieutenant Commander Douglass. His eyes had gone wide and he fought against the hands that held him.
One of the pirates put his pistol behind Douglass's head and fired. Alannis was close enough that blood and brains splattered her face and some went in her mouth. She gagged in shock and horror. “You bastards!” Alannis snarled.
“Bag her and gag her,” the leader snapped.
One of the pirates grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head and then stuffed a rag in her mouth. A moment later, they drew a bag down over her head.
The last thing she saw before the bag came down over her eyes was the ruined face of Lieutenant Commander Douglass.
***
Lieutenant Forrest Perkins was on bridge watch. The Captain was down on the planet and the XO was taking a well-deserved rest for the moment. While Lieutenant Commander Voronkov was in engineering... Forrest was the senior officer on the bridge.
That made him more than a bit nervous. Yet he also felt oddly confident. Part of that was that Captain Beeson and Lieutenant Commander Douglass had entrusted him with the job, and part of it was that he'd been empowered all along.
While other militaries had a very rigid structure, the Baron's United Colonies had adopted a stance of personal empowerment and initiative. There were processes and procedures... but most commanders encouraged their officers and enlisted to address and fix problems as they came up, rather than waiting to be told what to do about them.
Which was why he stood over the sensor station. “Those ships still moving?” Forrest asked.
“Yes, sir,” the Tech Specialist said crisply.
Forrest frowned. There was nothing overtly hostile about the five ship formation moving to the Constellation's rear quadrant... except for the fact that another five ships had moved into her forward quadrant.
Both clusters of ships would be in parallel orbits unless the Constellation made any orbital adjustments. If they did, without a severe acceleration the ship would be forced to move very close –possibly even through-- one of the two formations. The Constellation was capable of such maneuvers, but the pirates probably didn't know that.
And the Captain may not want them to know that, Forrest thought, unless it comes to fighting.
And that was the question, really. If this was a maneuver designed to spook him or to learn the Constellation's capabilities, the absolute worst thing he could do would be to maneuver to avoid them. On the other hand, if this was preparation for an attack, it would be stupid of him not to move out of their firing box... and in that case, he also needed to go to battle stations.
When he thought about it that way, his decision was clear enough. He turned to Chief Petty Officer Donitz. “Put us on battle-stations,” Forrest said, “Prepare for maneuvers.”
***
“Shots fired!” A voice snapped out on Daniel's comm.
Daniel looked up sharply and he saw James Copley's eyes had gone wide in surprise.
“What's going on?” Daniel asked, his voice flat.
“I don't know,” Copley responded. “I told my men to stand down....” He waved over his assistant. “Find out what's happening.”
“Captain Beeson,” a panting voice said over Daniel's comm unit. Daniel recognized Chuni's voice after a moment, her growling voice heavy with anger. “Lieutenant Commander Douglass and Ensign Giovanni were ambushed. I'm headed back to the shuttle, the ambushers have not pursued me.”
Oh no, Daniel thought as he realized that the Emperor's sister was either prisoner or dead. Daniel glared at James Copley, “You assured me that my people would be protected.”
“Look,” Copley said, “I had nothing to do with this. My people are just as in the dark as...”
There came a muffled explosion and dust rained from the ceiling. An alarm began to sound overhead. Copley rushed over to a screen and his face hardened as it showed smoke and gunfire in the main corridor.
“Those bastards,” Copley growled. On the screen Daniel could make out raggedly dressed men swarming forward before the screen went to static.
“It seems you don't have as much control here as you suggested,” Daniel interrupted.
“Those men attacking are Rickey One-Eye's people, they're slavers.” James Copley said. “They have no reason to attack me!”
Daniel raised an eyebrow, “You were discussing with me the possibility of turning over any slavers to my people for trial and punishment.”
“Well, yeah, but they shouldn't know about it,” Copley snapped. “The last thing I wanted was them panicking and attacking. Bunch of idiots... now I'm going to have to deal with them.” He lifted his comm, “Romona, get our reaction team moving, I want Rickey's people taken down and taken down hard.”
If these slavers are moving against him, they'll probably be moving against my ship, too, Daniel thought. “I need to get back to my ship, is there a back way out of here?”
Copley looked over at him over his shoulder, “Just what kind of lair would this be without an escape route? I can even have a shuttle take you up to my ship, a way to prove my intentions.”
Daniel looked over at Staff Sergeant Witzke. “Staff Sergeant, will that be secure enough?”
“I'm concerned about anti-air weapons,” she said. “But it's more likely the enemy will have those aimed at our shuttle than elsewhere.” She gave a shrug, “It's not the safest course, but with the Constellation providing overwatch, it should work.”
“Right,” Daniel nodded. He'd served in the ground fighting on Faraday when Lucius Giovanni had liberated the planet... but this kind of thing was outside his normal realm of experience. That had been an all-or-nothing assault against a Chxor planetary defense center on his home world. This was a brawl between pirate factions on a very different world.
“Fine,” Daniel nodded, “let's do it.”
***
Chapter XI
Sapphire City, Sapphire, Gamma Serpentis System
Neutral Space
December 12, 2407
“No movement on the Navy boy shuttle,” Two-Fingers's spotter said.
Rickey gnawed at his thumbnail as he looked out the window. He'd sent his people in on the assault as he'd discussed with Two-Fingers... but he hadn't led them like the other slaver captain had insisted. Rickey knew that James Copley's base was a warren of tunnels and hardened bunkers. He wasn't about to lead any kind of attack there.
No, he'd hung back where he and Two-Fingers had set up a command post with several anti-air batteries. Rickey's men had two sets of Scorpion interceptor missiles. The shoulder-mounted weapons weren't the newest of equipment, but they had worked well enough for his purposes... mostly taking out militia or local defense forces patrol craft that stumbled across one of his raid groups while on a planet.
The light but powerful missile could damage even an armored shuttle or patrol boat out to low orbit. Since the missiles were relatively simple, if slow, the only real question was if the warhead could acquire a proper military ship.
Two-Fingers' three teams had Archon plasma pulsars. The heavy, rapid firing cannons had less overall range in atmosphere but they were designed to absolutely shred anything that came nearby... and they required time to set up. They also required a full power supply, which was why all three of the systems sat in a tight formation around the bunker that housed their power truck.
Since Two-Fingers had departed to ready his ships, Rickey had appropriated the secure bunker as his own base of operations. The added security of four meters of rock and reinforced concrete above him just left him feeling quite a bit better about things.
“What happened down near the fish market?” Rickey snapped out at one of his lieutenants.
The small man flinched, “Don't know yet, boss. Rackham had a team down there, but we don't know if they were attacked or they attacked someone.”
Rickey scowled, but he didn't say more. Rackham had provided them the tip. That didn't mean he trusted the man. Rackham was an opportunist... and it might well be that he was in league with this warship, too. After whatever his men had done, the team of Marines had withdrawn to their shuttle with speed. That had stopped Rickey's plans on taking them down and forced his hand on assaulting the base before Copley had time to get his men ready.
Not that they had much to get ready, he thought, even as he brought up the comms channel with his assault team.
“First team is down, they ran into some kind of explosive trap!” A voice shouted.
“They have flamethrowers, shoot them! Shoot them now!”
Rickey scowled at the confused chatter. While his men had never really fought an organized opponent, he had expected better results.
“Oh god, oh god, they're behind us...”
“This is Rickey One-Eye,” Rickey snapped, “What's the status?”
He heard more screams and shouts and he set his comm down in disgust. It seemed they'd mostly fallen apart in there. Perhaps he should have been more selective in his recruiting.
Nah, he thought, this just saves on the pay afterward. Rickey wouldn't have to pay the ones that died. In fact, he'd be able to seize their possessions along with any loot taken from Copley. He'd be able to recruit more just like them another day. Surely even with their losses they'd be able to push through. After all, he'd sent over five hundred of his men at Copley's bunker.
A distant explosion lifted his head and he looked up towards the bunker, a frown on his scarred face. There was no way that Copley would be able to hold out. Even if he tried, surely one of his men would sell him out... right?
***
Peggy “Romona” Smarekar wasn't a slaver. She was a pirate. That was a small but important distinction for her... because while she didn't mind murdering and stealing, even she had limits on what was acceptable.
She'd ended up working for James Copley for one important reason: he'd defeated her former boss in a hard-fought fight. He was tougher and meaner than anyone else she'd ever served under, he paid his people fair, got them good equipment, and he had a weird sense of honor that while she didn't really understand, it still left her with a weird warm feeling.
She needed that warm feeling here on Sapphire. Romona hated the cold. She'd grown up on a hot, semi-tropical planet and she didn't even like the chill of climate-control on ship... much less the aching, damp chill of Sapphire City even in the summer.
Still, she respected her boss.
That was why she lay on a narrow ledge that looked over a corridor and watched dozens --perhaps hundreds-- of slavers as they rushed down the tunnel.
Most of them were scum, even in the pirate world. They were killers, rapists, and the worst kind of filth. Rickey One-Eye was known for raiding prisons and offering positions to everyone from thugs to child molesters and pimps. Of course, those that didn't accept were either killed or enslaved.
Romona wasn't a fan. In fact, she'd been itching to kill the lot of them for months. Most of them were posers, without any real spine or the ability to be good pirates. They were weak and soft and she couldn't wait to show them what real killers were capable of.
The intercom system rattled and she smiled as she recognized the signal. Rickey's men had jammed the comms, but there were other ways to do things, after all.
Romona kicked the heavy glass jugs off the ledge with one leg even as she rolled onto her side and looked down.
Two of them had shattered on impact with the stone floor, splashing their contents across a dozen stunned slavers, while the third had crushed a man's skull and rolled down the corridor, tripping slavers as they stumbled over it and slid on the wet oil that had washed across the floor.
The seas of Sapphire weren't nearly so lifeless as the land. One of the bigger creatures was the violet arachno- squid, which had a large sack of harsh-scented oil that served a number of purposes for the colony. The main use was in cooking and heating oil since it burned very well indeed.
One of the slavers spotted Romona and his eyes went wide as he recognized the smell.
Romona grinned as she twisted off the end of the flare. Bright red light flared, filling the corridor in a hellish palate. She heard them start to scream as she dropped the flare... but the screams rose to a higher crescendo as the oil ignited. She casually drew her pistol and fired at the one jug that had rolled a dozen meters away. It shattered and ignited at the same time, billowing out with a roil of heat.
As the slaver scum below her writhed in the flames, she held out her hands and enjoyed the heat rising off them. The blower fans sucked away the worst of the smoke, but she could bask in the heat and enjoy the screams.
It's nice to feel warm, she thought.
***
Alannis awoke to the distant sound of gunfire and muffled explosions. Her head came up, but she still had a bag over her head. It felt as if she'd been tied to a chair. She couldn't move her hands or feet, but she could feel the cold metal of the chair and she could feel it sway under her weight.
Captured by slavers, she thought, my life seems to get more and more like one of the bad serials the silly girls used to watch religiously back in school. Still, she didn't need any reminder that this wasn't one of those silly romances where the princess was saved and none of the heroes were even injured in the process. She could still see the ruined face of Lieutenant Commander Douglass in her mind's eye.
“She's awake,” a voice muttered. “Let the boss know.”
She waited patiently as she could manage. It wasn't hard to keep from pleading or questions. Alannis wasn't about to beg for anything. She had survived the Chxor invasion of Nova Roma and the Dreyfus Mutiny. She wasn't about to let a group of two-bit pirates break her.
She heard a door open and she steeled herself. This would get ugly, she knew, especially if they had any inkling of who she was. They wouldn't realize that Lucius wouldn't bargain with kidnappers, they'd assume they could ransom her or even make demands.
“Get that off her,” a low, oddly familiar voice spoke.
Someone pulled the bag off her head and she blinked at the painfully bright light. It took her a long moment to focus against the glare of the harsh, artificial lights. The first thing she saw was that they were underground, in a basement or bunker carved out of the solid rock of the island.
The next thing she made out was the face of the man in charge.
She jerked against the restraints as she recognized his handsome face and his well-groomed blonde hair, “You son of a bitch!”
Reese Leone winced at that, “Alannis...”
“You kidnapped me?” Alannis shook her head.
“I had to know why Lucius sent you here,” Reese said. He shrugged, “I'm sorry for your treatment, but I have to make do with the resources I have.”
“You killed an officer of the United Colonies Fleet,” Alannis snapped. “You've worked with pirates and mercenaries who have killed innocent men and women...”
“Oh, like I've had much of a choice?” Reese's face had hardened. “I'm an outlaw... remember? Your brother made it so I can't live in the open... so I have to make a living with those who view arrest warrants and bounties as credentials.” He looked away and spat on the floor, “And as for blood on my hands... your brother has far more of it. How many people did he lead to their deaths so that he could become Emperor?”
Alannis shook her head, “It's nothing like that at all! The people called for him to take charge. He tried to turn them down, but--”
“Oh, please,” Reese snarled. “Do not tell me that you believe his propaganda too!?” He gave a hollow laugh, “I bought his 'selfless service' line for too long, but I've seen just how self-serving he can be!”
Alannis shook his head, “Reese, you're crazy if you think Lucius is some kind of megalomaniac. I mean, for God's sake, he could have set himself up as a dictator!”
“You're saying he hasn't?” Reese sneered. “He's pushed out anyone who speaks against him. I've been run out because I didn't like how he planned to use you...”
“You,” Alannis snarled, “are a wanted man because you hacked my implant.”
Reese looked away, “I wanted us to have a family, I wanted a child, Alannis... was that so wrong?”
“No,” Alannis said, “you wanted to control me and that is wrong.”
Reese didn't respond for a long moment. When he did, he stared at the floor. “I can see that it's pointless to argue with you for now. So I'll just move on to questions. What does Lucius know about my operation here? Does he know about the significance of the artifacts I'm here to buy? Does he have a force waiting to intercept when I flee the planet?”
His questions caught her so off-guard that Alannis shook her head and answered honestly, “Reese, Lucius doesn't even know you're here. I'm not even supposed to be here.”
“Right...” Reese rolled his eyes, “you just happened to be on a ship on the back-end of human space when I'm here to make this deal.”
“Reese,” Alannis said in a harsh voice, “I'm going to tell you this slowly and as plainly as I can, so that you understand and actually hear what I tell you. Lucius didn't know you were here. I didn't know you were here. You know why? Other than trying to make certain you don't hurt anyone else... we don't care about you. I don't care about you.”
Reese recoiled from the hate in her voice. He stared at her for a long, silent moment, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of shame, anger, and pain. “Well, I'm glad I know where we stand,” he said after a final moment. He cleared his throat. “How... how is our son?”
“Anthony is fine,” Alannis growled.
“Anthony?” Reese asked. “You named him for Anthony Doko?”
She nodded, “He and his wife helped me through after...” She cleared her own throat. Dammit, she thought, I am not going to get emotional here.
“I'd heard, but I wasn't sure if it was true or not,” Reese said in a low voice. “Do you have a picture?”
“Not one that I'd show you,” Alannis growled.
Reese's face went hard, “So what do you tell him about me, then? Did you tell him the truth? Or just some lie?”
“It hasn't come up yet,” Alannis said and it was her turn to look away. In truth, she didn't know what she'd tell Anthony. It was one of the reasons she dreaded spending time with him... for that moment when the question did come up.
“Of course,” Reese shook his head. “Did you ever stop to think that I did what I did because I love you? Because I didn't want something like this to happen? You're out here alone, you could have been killed...”
“Like your men killed Lieutenant Commander Douglass?” Alannis snapped.
“Yeah, just like that,” Reese replied. “Life is lived on the knife edge out here, Alannis. And Lucius may insist he had nothing to do with your decision to serve, but he damned sure shares responsibility for where he sent you. You don't belong here. Let me protect you, let me show you the truth. I have contacts, they could get Anthony to us, and we could have a family again...”
“A family, seriously?” Alannis stared at her ex-husband. “You've killed people, Reese. Your men just killed an officer I knew, right in front of me... and you want me to run off with you and have a happy little family? You want Anthony raised in a place like this?!”
Reese glared at her, “He should be raised with his father, not as the second string to Lucius's little troll.”
“His 'little troll' is my niece, Kaylee, and she's a sweet little girl,” Alannis snapped. “And the only way you'll get anywhere near Anthony is over my dead body.”
Reese went still. “Alannis... you should be very careful what you say.”
She felt a chill pass through her as she met his blue eyes. There was something there that she hadn't seen before. An edge of madness, perhaps... and she could see that part of him took her declaration as an offer, as a condition that he would accept, a price he might well pay.
“We'll continue this discussion later,” Reese said. “I'm sure that once I show you how things really work, you'll come to your senses.” He nodded at one of the thugs. “Keep watch. I'll signal when you should move her to the landing pad.”
“Reese, you can't take me,” Alannis said. “I'm an officer of the United Colonies Fleet--”
“You're my wife,” Reese snapped. “No matter what you think, I'm only doing this for your own good. You're coming with me. Get used to the idea.”
He turned and left before Alannis could come up with any response.
***
Two-Fingers stooped through the low hatchway and onto the bridge of the Cutthroat. His flagship had never seemed small to him... not until now.
The Cutthroat was a Forerunner-class destroyer. It wasn't new, not by any measure of the word, but it had been heavily modernized and improved, even more than the other ships in his fleet.
Not that I'll mind moving to something a little more capable, he thought with a smirk. The military cruiser hung in low orbit over Sapphire, the space immediately around it clear. Two-Fingers had called in favors from some of the other assorted pirates and mercenaries to block it into that orbit, though.
He had no doubt that his allies would prove little more than distractions to the ship... but that was their point. They would distract the Navy boys while his ships positioned themselves to strike it. For that, though, he needed the ship to move to a higher orbit and he needed his ships to have time to build up enough speed to sweep around the planet and into position.
“What's the status of the weapon?” Two-Fingers asked.
“Sixty percent charge, Commodore,” the Cutthroat's Captain said. “We'll be fully online when the enemy is in position.”
The cruiser had already begun to maneuver and one of his more anxious allies opened up with their weapons. Two-Fingers just gave a giggle. The very thought of one of those frigates doing more than scratch the paint on the cruiser was beyond silly.
It was just as absurd as the idea of that idiot One-Eye managing to overwhelm a man like Copley. One-Eye was no more than a distraction just like the other ships here in orbit. Two-Fingers figured the other slaver had hidden himself in a bunker as far as he could get from the actual fighting, no doubt throwing his incompetent cannon-fodder against Copley's defenses.
After Two-Fingers finished up his business here in orbit, he'd take care of Copley... after his defenses had been depleted and Two-Fingers' rivals had been exhausted fighting him. I'll have to remember to record their expressions of surprise after I betray them and lock them in their own slave-holds, he thought with a manic grin.
He detested the weak, pathetic worms who had considered him their equal for so long. It was time for him to finally establish a true order of things... and this was only the first step.
“The cruiser is firing,” his Captain said.
“Oooh, pretty,” Two-Fingers purred as he watched two of the pirate frigates vanish in explosions. Their debris would rain down through the atmosphere in only a few days. He'd have to remember to watch the show, it would be an impressive display.
Powerful weapons for such a ship, he thought. It would fit his needs perfectly.
“Bring the fleet's engines online,” Two-Fingers said. “Full acceleration.
***
“Engage bogies two and five,” Commander Bowder snapped.
Lieutenant Forrest Perkins brought up the target solutions he'd already worked through. The cruiser's main weapons were overkill against the light ships... but that wasn't a problem for Forrest. Until now, the Constellation had not returned fire on the pirate vessels which had swarmed around her.
The XO had ordered them into evasive maneuvers, but the intent had been to open range. Clearly the XO felt the time had come to change the dynamics of the situation.
Forrest grinned as he cued up the firing solution, “Firing,” he said, feeling a tremble of excitement as he opened fire.
The exotic particle cannons were of similar power to the old War Shrike's main batteries. The quantum physics derived exotic particles were projected at near-light-speed and the exotic particle cannons were designed to hit far outside of a mere cruiser's weight-class. Hits from the weapons could, in theory, open up dreadnoughts or gut cruisers.
The two closest enemy frigates simply vanished.
“Bring up targets ten, eleven, twelve, and fourteen,” Commander Bowder said, “for rear batteries. Engage one, three, four, and six forward as primary targets.” There was an impressive tone of dispassion as he spoke, almost as if he had reverted purely to his training as he ordered up targets.
Forrest somewhat envied that mechanical tone. It must be nice, he thought, to be so disconnected from the process of taking human life. Forrest could admit he was excited by it. These bastard pirates had attacked them and here he was dispensing righteous justice in the form of exotic particle beams.
“Engage secondary targets after you have serviced the primaries,” Commander Bowder said.
“Engaging,” Forrest said as the exotic particle cannons charge came up again. That was the one downside to such a powerful armament, in his opinion: it took longer to come to full power on them. In theory they could have engaged the small enemy vessels with their secondary batteries, but those were on standby in case the enemy launched missiles. Forrest couldn't help a maniacal grin as the weapon systems aligned and began to open fire.
As the enemy ships shattered in a chain of explosions he thought, I love my job.
***
Captain Daniel Beeson flinched as bullets whined and bounced off the doorframe.
“I need to get to that shuttle,” Daniel snapped.
“No use,” the pirate at the door shook his head. “Even if we get you in the air, there's enemy anti-air. They took down the gunship we launched already.”
Daniel grimaced and pulled out his comm unit. Deep below the ground the combination of overhead cover and jamming had cut his signal, but now he was close enough to the surface to perhaps get through. “Constellation,” he said, “This is Captain Beeson, what's your status.”
“Sir,” Commander Bowder answered after a moment's pause, “XO here, we have been engaged by a variety of pirate craft. We are maneuvering and returning fire. No damage to report. What is your status, sir, do you require supporting fire?”
“We might,” Daniel said. “It seems some of the local pirates and assorted scum didn't approve of Mister Copley's decision to welcome us here.”
“Sir,” Commander Bowder said, “we have to this point engaged and destroyed eighteen enemy vessels. Our sensors indicate that approximately twice that number have already fled and a dozen or more are breaking atmosphere headed away from the fight. What are your orders, sir?”
“Engage hostile vessels, but do not fire on those leaving the planet,” Daniel said. While Ensign Giovanni might well be dead, she might also be aboard one of those vessels. While he didn't want to let her attackers get away, he was aware that many of those fleeing might well be innocent... or at least as innocent as anyone was from Sapphire.
“Yes, sir,” Commander Bowder said. “Is there anything else we can do to assist?”
Daniel looked at Staff Sergeant Witzke who gave a nod and then spoke, “Sir, Staff Sergeant Witzke. The enemy is using some sort of air defenses to keep Copley's gunboats grounded. If you could locate those and eliminate them; that would be very useful.”
“We'll get on it,” Commander Bowder said. “Now, if you've nothing else, we're picking up another group of hostile vessels moving into attack positions.”
“Carry on, XO,” Daniel said. He withdrew down the hallway a bit and sighed. “Staff Sergeant, what's the status of your other squad?”
“They're still at the shuttle, sir,” she responded. “I obtained contact while you established comms with the XO. They have not come under fire, yet.”
Well, there's a ray of sunshine, he thought. “What about Chuni?”
“Leader Chuni established comms with the shuttle but she went quiet just after the main fighting opened up,” Staff Sergeant Witzke said. “Do you want me to try to reestablish comms?”
Daniel frowned. Chuni had been the one on the scene when the ambushers had attacked Lieutenant Commander Douglass's group. He had hoped to send his shuttle team to look for their attackers... but he couldn't without Chuni. For that matter, she might be doing that herself.
He felt nervous and ill-at-ease. Daniel knew that came from the fact that his ship was fighting and he was here on the planet. There's nothing I can do right now besides trust in my subordinates, he thought. The rattle of gunfire outside reminded him of just that fact.
Daniel had a ship and crew capable of handling the situation. They fought enemies with less resources, less capabilities. They held all the cards and the most the slavers and pirates could do was bluff or fold.
He just hoped that the enemy didn't have any cards up their sleeves.
***
“Weapon is ninety-eight percent charged,” the Cutthroat's Captain said, just as Two-Fingers' fleet came over the horizon. “Acquiring target.”
Two-Fingers grinned. The cruiser was in perfect position. It had cleared the planet's magnetosphere, had broken orbit which would prevent it from falling into the atmosphere before his ships could get it into tow... and it wasn't yet traveling fast enough to escape them.
“Launch our fighters and prepare to launch boarding craft,” Two-Fingers said. The way he had organized his formation it would look like the fighters were the main strike force while his other ships were supporting.
Under other circumstances that would be correct... but the Navy boys didn't know about the induction cannon. The weapon generated an immense pulse of electromagnetic high frequency radiation, comparable to the output from a star's flare, only directional. It wasn't nearly as powerful, of course, but still the weapon could be absolutely devistating when fired at close range against almost any vessel. Standard defense screens and radiation shields did nothing to mitigate the burst, which would cause induction along power lines and fry even hardened circuitry.
The huge magnetic coils used to generate that induction took up most of the Cutthroat's armament, but the weapon, used in secret, had been the source of his many successes. Besides range and speed, there was literally nothing that could defend against it, so long as he used it from surprise.
“Weapon at one hundred percent charge, range in one minute,” his Captain said.
My father gave me it to test out, Two-Fingers thought with a smile, he never dreamed it would prove so successful. His father had wanted a test against a real warship... well, Two-Fingers would give him that. Maybe then he could return home.
“Launch boarding craft, prepare to fire,” Two-Fingers smiled. And even if he doesn't welcome me back... well, I'll have a nice kingdom out here to rule.
***
Chapter XII
Sapphire, Gamma Serpentis System
Neutral Space
December 12, 2407
Commander Bowder looked up as a shouting man rushed onto the bridge, “No, no, no!”
He recognized the civilian engineer, Rory, just as the man's constant companion followed him. “Professor, you need to leave the bridge, we're at battle stations,” Commander Bowder said. He nodded at Forrest, “Prepare to engage those fighters and small-craft.”
“Well...” Rory said in a loud voice, “if you want to doom us all to die that's a great idea!” The scientist threw his hands in the air.
“He's right,” Feliks nodded, seemingly oblivious to how the entire bridge had frozen, staring at the two men.
“Get off my bridge!” Commander Bowder snapped. He had no time for the two men's histrionics. “The main threat is the fighter force, they'll be armed with heavy missiles and their formation is designed to
“Sure they are,” Rory said. “But let me ask you this, are they oriented to give the destroyer at the center of their formation a clear cone of fire, with no ships inside that cone?”
Commander Bowder's jaw dropped as he confirmed that with one glance, “What's going on?”
“I detected a massive magnetic field around that destroyer as soon as we cleared the magnetosphere. The only reason for that powerful a magnetic field would be some kind of massive set of induction coils, far bigger than even a dreadnought would carry for its defense screens. It's got to be some kind of magneto-induction weapon.... the operation of which would be very interesting to study...
“To the point,” Commander Bowder snapped, “what's the range of it?”
“Short, very short,” Rory said. “No more than three thousand kilometers. In fact, I'd give it a ninety-eight percent chance--”
“Um, thirty percent at most,” Feliks interrupted.
“Seventy-five percent chance that it would be ineffectual at distances outside of that range,” Rory said.
The range was at four thousand kilometers and closing. “Adjust course to one one seven,” Commander Bowder said, “Maximum acceleration.” As the Constellation accelerated, Commander Bowder looked at Rory, “This kind of weapon, why haven't I heard of it?”
“Well, there was a paper by this Confederation scientist, a real corporate hack, works for Nova Corp, real snooty type...”
“He once told Rory he was pretentious,” Feliks said helpfully. Commander Bowder did his best to ignore the byplay as he watched the range. The pirate destroyer had accelerated as well, and so had the fighters, but they had maintained their formation. The fighters are a screen, Commander Bowder thought, which confirms the destroyer is the primary threat, at least.
“He's a marginally competent moron!” Rory shouted at Feliks. He smoothed a hand through his thinning hair, “As I was saying, he published a paper suggesting that you could design induction coils to discharge in sequence sort of like a synthetic magnetar, creating this massive radio-frequency burst. It's outside of the threatening radiation wavelengths so most ships don't have any real protection against it... but it would create induction inside every bit of electronics, whether it's online or not.”
“The effect would be devastating,” Feliks nodded. He interlocked his fingers, “it would overload every system on the ship. Everything electronic would go into emergency shutdown or be destroyed. It would take hours, perhaps days to get any systems online... and that is assuming that the systems are not so damaged as to be irreparable.”
“Lieutenant Perkins,” Commander Bowder said. “Primary target is that vessel, I want it neutralized.”
“No!” Rory shouted.
“Why not?” Commander Bowder asked, holding up a hand to signal Lieutenant Perkins to wait.
“Look, leaving aside the scientific impact of destroying such a weapon, there's also the forensics aspect. Someone gave what has to be a functioning prototype to some pirates operating out here. This has got to be a weapons test, shouldn't we know who's behind it?”
Against his will, Commander Bowder nodded slowly.
“Oh, and also,” Feliks said, “the magnetic burst of the coils releasing in destruction would quite possibly disrupt the planet's magnetosphere long enough to allow the star's radiation to kill off all surface life.”
“Well, that too,” Rory nodded. “It would be interesting to map the effect. I bet we could write a really interesting paper on the distortion pattern and how that effected the exposures to lethal radiation levels and then tracked that against the native life and colonist die off rates.
“Oh, yes,” Feliks nodded, “that's true, I should set up a monitor for that.”
“Belay that order to fire,” Commander Bowder said.
***
“They're continuing to accelerate,” the Cuthroat's Captain said.
“I can see that,” Two-Fingers snapped.
As it was, the cruiser was outside of optimal range and still too close to the planet. If he fired now, he risked the ship being operational, depending on the strength of its defense screens. He still might cripple it, but it wasn't anywhere near the certain thing he'd planned for.
And if father learns that I spoiled his secret... Two-Fingers shuddered at that thought.
Two-Fingers couldn't risk the chance that the cruiser might see his shot and survive. It would be bad enough if someone learned of the weapon's existence. It would be far worse if they realized that a senior member of the Centauri Confederation had given that technology to a pirate.
Far better to order his fighters to hit the enemy ship before that happened. They didn't have nearly as sophisticated technology as the induction cannon, but each of the twenty four fighters did carry four Hellcat missiles each.
Launching all ninety-six of those missiles, plus the external racks from his destroyer and frigates would be a massive salvo. Each Hellcat carried a shaped, tactical nuclear fission-fusion-fission warhead. They were old technology, but of advanced design built in the Tanis system.
Individually, he doubted the missiles could take down the cruiser, but in a mass salvo, there was no way that the enemy could knock down all of them. Even a couple of hits should be enough to destroy the ship. The cost would be ghastly, a huge hit to his profit margin, but capturing Sapphire afterward and looting Copley's wealth would at least make up on that somewhat.
Still, he thought, it doesn't hurt to at least try to end this by capturing her. “Full acceleration, try to get them in range,” Two-Fingers snapped. “But order our fighters to ready their missiles.”
***
Chuni fought to control her rage as she worked her way along the edge of the wall.
It was a primal thing, her rage. Her own childhood fanned that rage as she thought about her older brother, murdered by evil humans as casually as these ones had killed Lieutenant Commander Douglass. Somehow the two incidents had almost become one in her mind and all her frustration at living her life in the shadows, of hiding her true identity, and of never having the chance to be who she needed to be had focused upon the men who'd attacked.
She wanted nothing more than to rush upon the pirate scum and smash them with her fists... but if she gave them that much warning, they might kill her friend Alannis.
My friend, she thought and that was a surprise enough to still her rage. She had not had many friends. There was Rastar, but that friendship was something that had to be kept and managed carefully, for to do otherwise would be to invite dishonor upon herself.
Alannis was an equal in many ways and was a warrior who had much honor to her own name. The tiny human had both good humor and wise words. She was fierce and honorable. Chuni felt shame that she had retreated from the fight, yet in the face of so many armed humans, she had realized that she could not accomplish any more than to die like Lieutenant Commander Douglass.
Yet now was different. She had tracked them back to this bunker. She'd seen enough of them moving in and out of the building to know this must be their headquarters. She didn't know why they had kidnapped Alannis, but it could not be for a good reason.
These were bad humans, humans like the ones who had killed her brother when she was barely old enough to remember. She felt her rage come back and wash over her again. Yet this time, it was a cold rage. This wasn't noman kar, the killing bloodrage, this was something different.
She felt almost calm. Chuni drew her four pistols as she moved forward and a plan began to form in her mind. Her hide began to flush with kava as she felt her heartbeat steady. The bad men had taken Alannis... and she would make sure they didn't hurt her or anyone ever again.
***
Boris looked north as yet another explosion erupted in the north. Whatever defenses Rickey One-Eye's men had run into, he was glad that he didn't have to worry about it. Rackham had sent off some of his men to help in the assault, but Boris hadn't missed that they were some of the boss's newest recruits or old hands who didn't pull their weight anymore.
Boris had seen how tough James Conley's men were and just how fearsome the pirate king could be. He wanted nothing to do with trying to pry them out of that underground fortress. In fact, he doubted a two-bit slaver like Rickey One-Eye would manage the job.
Certainly Boris didn't know why Rackham had him and his team attack the two military types. Boris had known enough to understand that the woman was the important one, so he hadn't flinched when the order came to kill the other one. Killing wasn't something that bothered him as much as it once had. In fact, it bothered him more that the killing didn't bother him than the actual act itself.
Boris frowned as the echoes of the explosion faded. It had almost sounded like there were separate sharp cracks in that sound, almost as if...
Another explosion rocked Sapphire City and this time he did hear the gunshots at the same time, sharp and loud and close.
Boris fumbled for his comm but his hands didn't seem to work. In fact, his legs felt weak. He stumbled back against the door frame, just as a huge figure raced at him. Boris tried to lift his weapon, tried to call out, but before he could do much more than groan he found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol.
There was another explosion and Boris's world disappeared in a flash of light.
***
Alannis's head cocked as she heard a sharper sounding crack in the edge of an explosion... and what might have been a shout of alarm cut off.
The pirates who sat in the room seemed oblivious. Then again, they also hadn't noticed that she'd been working her right wrist against the metal edge of the chair... so that she almost had it free. If this was a rescue attempt, her best bet was to go flat. While Reese might not use her as a hostage, his pirate allies certainly wouldn't have any such compunctions.
Alannis didn't think she could tip over the heavy metal chair. Nor did she think she could work her other limbs free, not without more time. Time to improvise, she thought.
“Hey!” Alannis called over at the two pirates who slouched in the corner, “I need to pee.”
“Piss your pants then,” the first one said. The other gave a giggle.
“Sure, I bet my husband would just love the fact that you made me piss my pants,” Alannis said. “I'm sure he wouldn't have your boss take it out on you at all over something like that.”
The two pirates looked at each other. “Fine,” one of them snarled. He stomped over, his hand going for the knife on his belt. “But...”
Alannis tugged her hand free just as he drew his knife. She caught his wrist and shoved hard, pushing the blade up into his stomach and then up under his ribs. As the pirate’s hands went slack in shock, she grabbed the hilt of the knife and jerked it out, a wash of hot blood gushing forth to soak her hand. The pirate gave a horrid scream as he fell back and behind him, she saw his friend staring their way in shock.
Alannis used the knife to cut the ropes on her other hand and then leaned over to reach for the dying pirate’s pistol. Her blood-soaked hands slid against the pistol’s grip and the squirming, crying pirate writhed out of her reach.
She looked up to see the other pirate had drawn his pistol and he fired. He fired shot after shot in rapid succession and bullets buzzed around her like malignant wasps only to strike the stone walls and ricochet. Either he wasn’t a very good shot or he was shaken by the scream of his dying friend. Alannis stretched out and her hand finally caught the pistol and dragged it out of the pirate’s waistband. She brought the pistol up and leveled it on the other pirate, even as she watched him pull the trigger on an empty gun.
She fired once and again and saw blood blossom on the pirate’s chest. He fell back and she leaned forward, scooping up the knife again and then sawed to cut the restraints that held her ankles to the chair. She heard shouting in the hallway just outside the door to the room.
As her legs came free, she shoved herself to her feet, then stumbled and fell as her numb legs refused to hold her weight. Alannis dragged herself away from the chair as someone kicked open the door.
She rolled to her side and fired twice more, striking the man who’d come through in the stomach. The man behind him spun as his companion dropped, bringing up his rifle. Alannis centered the pistol on him and fired again, this time squeezing the trigger until it went dry, firing each shot as quickly as she could.
The second man fell back out of sight but for one leg which twitched randomly in the doorway.
Pins and needles signaled the return of blood-flow to her legs and Alannis shoved herself to her feet. She stumbled over to the doorway and grabbed the rifle from the downed pirate. She tried not to look at what her shots had done to the man’s face as she checked the weapon and glanced up and down the hallway.
Somewhere not too far away she heard gunfire and shouts. A moment later a pirate tumbled head first down the stairs to Alannis’s right and lay still.
Chuni came around the corner, a pair of rifles in each set of limbs. “Alannis!” she shouted, “I found you!”
“You did,” Alannis said as she lowered her own rifle in relief. “Where’s the rest of the rescue team?”
“Just me,” Chuni replied. She hesitated then, “Is any of that blood yours?”
“No,” Alannis said. “Let’s get out of here.”
***
“Sir,” Forrest said as he looked up from his display, “whether or not that destroyer has this weapon, those fighters are a threat. Sensors indicates their birds are active.”
The XO hesitated for a moment. If they fired their secondary batteries, the enemy might well fire their special weapon. Forrest knew that if Rory was wrong about the range, then they were as good as dead.
The question was: could they take out the enemy fighter strike before they launched and if they did, would the enemy's mystery weapon work?
Forrest didn't know the answer to that question. He felt confident of his firing solutions, but he didn't even know what to think about this theoretical weapon. At the end of the day, it was Commander Bowder making the call.
“There might be a way...” Rory said as he stared at the sensors display. Forrest didn't look up from his console, even as he felt sweat bead his head. If those fighters did launch, then he knew he couldn't stop all of their salvo.
“Explain quickly,” Commander Bowder said.
“Well,” Rory said, “when they fire their radio-frequency projection cannon, it'll be a directional burst. They have to release the induction coils in a very precise sequence in order to snap the magnetic bands and generate the electromagnetic burst just right.”
“And?” Commander Bowder demanded.
“Well, if something interrupted that burst,” Rory said, “then the process should fizzle.”
“You would get a localized, minor series of electromagnetic energy releases,” Feliks said, “Like a slow burn instead of an explosion.”
“How?” Commander Bowder demanded.
“The magnetic field will be very finely tuned,” Feliks interlocked his fingers. “Any nearby disruption would unravel those preparations.”
“Exactly!” Rory shook a finger at his companion, “the exotic particle cannons, they fire disrupting beam of generated exotic particles. Those particles cause all sorts of disturbances in gravitational and electromagnetic forces... if we fired very, very close to the destroyer and missed...”
Commander Bowder looked at Forrest as did the two scientists. “You want me to miss?” Forrest asked with more than a little irritation. It really felt almost insulting to do that.
“Can you?” Commander Bowder asked.
“Yes sir,” Forrest said confidently. He knew he could knock the ship out of the sky.
“You have to aim very, very precisely and fire exactly when the enemy destroyer begins to fire its weapon,” Feliks said. “If you fire too far off, it will have no effect. If you hit it...”
“I understand,” Forrest said. He looked at Commander Bowder, “Ready when you are, sir.”
“Right,” the XO settled into the command chair and gave Forrest a nod, “do it.”
***
Two-Fingers gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he watched the cruiser moving. He had to make a decision and soon. The warship had held its fire so far, but it was only a matter of time before it opened up. If he didn't fire the main weapon, then he had to have his fighters launch their Hellcat missiles, otherwise the cruiser would wipe them all out.
“Activate the Hellcat's firing circuits,” Two-Fingers said. He hated to do even that, especially with how... finicky the weapons sometimes were. Tanis's Tschanz Munitions insisted that the rumors about malfunctioning fire circuits had no basis on reality... but then again, his family owned a majority stock in Tschanz Munitions so he knew exactly how much he could trust their word. “Order them to fall back inside our protective screen.” That would put the fighters close alongside his frigates, though safely away from the destroyer with its weapon.
His face went stern. He would have to try to fire the induction cannon. If the weapon didn't have the desired effect, he'd follow it up with the missile strike. One way or another, Two-Fingers would win this battle.
“Align the ship to course one two seven,” Two-Fingers said. He brought up the firing sequence on his terminal. Everything looked to be in order... he activated it.
“Enemy firing!” The Cutthroat's Captain shouted.
***
The exotic particle beams flashed past faster than any human eye could have registered, just as the induction coils began to release in a precise sequence. The assorted exotic matter and energy, accelerated to near-light speed actually had negative mass... but it did generate gravitational and electromagnetic disturbance in a wake behind it. Two of the beams passed within only meters of the hull and the finely tuned magnetic bands writhed in the wake of those beams... just as the firing sequence released the energy in the coils.
Instead of the highly-focused directional electromagnetic burst they'd been designed for, the coils instead fired off in an almost random sequence as magnetic bands overlapped and twisted. The induction coils overloaded, triggering protective releases of their energy in a cascading effect that threw off all the careful precautions built into firing the system.
That cascade was still far more rapid than any of the designers would have expected. Instead of a single, powerful snap, it was a rapid sequenced chain of electromagnetic releases, each with a terawatt of magnetic energy release.
For the Cutthroat, the out of sequence release was merely devastating, as more than half the systems overloaded, burned out, and died. Power arced through the ship's hull and corridors as the coils released extremely powerful microwave bursts in random directions, in some cases using the ship's structure as amplifiers. Three quarters of the crew simply died, roasted alive in their seats before they even knew they were dead. The rest suffered such severe burns that they only lived for a few, agonizing minutes.
For Two-Finger's fighters, the effect was far worse. The high intensity microwave and radio wave burst created arcing throughout the fighter and frigate systems... but more dangerously, they'd activated their Hellcat missiles, which meant that their warheads were armed and their safeties were disengaged.
The Hellcats contained highly sophisticated fission-fusion-fission nuclear warheads... but the controls for those system went into overload just like the other ships systems. On almost thirty percent of those warheads the built-in safeties still prevented premature detonation even in the face of such extreme abuse.
The other sixty-four nuclear warheads detonated in a chain of fifty megaton nuclear explosions, the vast majority either in contact with a ship on the external racks or in immediate proximity.
Forrest didn't know exactly what had happened. All he knew was that he'd fired and less than a heartbeat later, his entire screen lit up with a chain of massive detonations. “Woohoo! Look at those fireworks!”
Rory pushed a sensor tech out of the way and was analyzing the data. “I was right... I am brilliant.”
“Thank you, professor,” Commander Bowder said.
“No!” Rory looked up and shook his head, “you don't understand, I didn't think that would work!”
“Wait... what?”
“It was a long shot,” Feliks said. “Very low probability of actual success.”
Rory nodded, “Yeah, I mean I figured the Ensign there...”
“Lieutenant,” Forrest corrected automatically.
“...whatever,” Rory waved a hand, “I figured he'd just hit the ship. I didn't think it would actually work. But the magnetosphere is still within acceptable parameters and while those detonations didn't help things, they were well above the ionosphere and outside the magnetosphere, so while there's going to be some serious communications disturbance and some pretty lights... I think we didn't actually kill the planet.”
“Doctor,” the XO said ominously, “you gave me advice that might have wiped out all the higher order lifeforms on a planet... and you're admitting you thought we'd screw it up.”
“Well, yes,” Feliks said. “The odds of anyone making the shot close enough for the beams to disturb the magnetic fields without hitting the hull were astronomically low. It was far more likely that the ship would be destroyed and then we'd have to evacuate the planet.”
“You're assuming we could evacuate the planet in time,” Commander Bowder growled.
“Oh, you'd have weeks, even months to figure that out,” Rory waved a hand. “And, anyway, turns out it wasn't a problem. I'm going to go write a paper on this one, coming Feliks?”
“Of course,” Feliks replied nodding his head, “We should title it 'Exotic Matter Perturbation of Manmade Magnetic Fields'.”
Forrest stared after the two engineers as they left the bridge. He didn't know if he wanted to kill them both or kiss them.
***
Reese ducked his head as he went up the ramp of the ship. Rackham's small, fast frigate's drives were already spun up. The time to leave had come and he'd felt more than a little sad that Alannis wouldn't be joining him.
He didn't even seriously consider having Rackham fire on the bunker where she and the Ghornath had overcome Rackham's men. So close, Reese thought as he walked to the bridge, I know if I had some more time I could have brought her around. For that matter, maybe if he had her father try to convince her, to bring her around...
It wasn't something he could reveal under these circumstances, certainly. Marius Giovanni's survival was a secret that Reese couldn't reveal. Marius had made that plain enough. But maybe if Reese brought Alannis to him, maybe if there was no way for the information to get out...
Bringing Alannis to her father might be the best option, he figured. Certainly it would be worth the effort if Alannis could only see how hard Reese was working for not just himself, but for a future for their family.
He'd have to think about that, Reese decided as he stepped onto the bridge. He nodded at Rackham who ordered the ship to lift off, joining the dozens of other vessels fleeing the fighting. Now that Reese knew the United Colonies Fleet didn't know of his mission here, he wasn't too worried about being intercepted.
Reese didn't give a thought for the hundreds who had already died in the fighting or for the officer who'd died when Rackham's strike team ambushed Alannis. He regretted it, but there were bigger stakes at play than individual lives. Reese's mission might well be all that could save humanity. What were a few lives measured against that?
***
Chapter XIII
Sapphire City, Sapphire
Neutral Space
December 18, 2407
“Well,” James Conley put his feet up on his conference table, “that's settled.”
Captain Daniel Beeson gave the pirate a level look. “A few thousand people died in the fighting.”
Conley gave an airy wave, “They were mostly slavers plus some pirates that no one will miss.”
“A few dozen ships escaped,” Daniel said. “Including a known fugitive who killed one of my officers and attempted to kidnap another.” Thank God that Chuni rescued her, Daniel thought as he looked over at where Alannis stood, her datapad in hand. He didn't know what had gone on between the Emperor's sister and her ex-husband, but if it was bad enough that one of his officers had died for it, then he wouldn't hesitate to shoot the bastard if he had the chance. Lieutenant Commander Douglass deserves that much from me, he thought with sadness.
“That's your problem,” Conley said with another wave. “You have unequivocal proof that I wasn't any part of that.” He put his hands behind his head and looked very satisfied. “I'm a 'sovereign ruler of a nation.' that means I can't be held responsible for the actions of pirates and bandits even if they take place on my fair world.”
“Perhaps not... but pursuant to our earlier agreement, the United Colonies did recognize you as the sovereign ruler of the colony of Sapphire. In doing so, you retain all rights and responsibilities as the representative of your nation, which includes responsibility for the actions of citizens of your 'fair world' when they attack
“This,” Ensign Alannis Giovanni said, holding up her datapad, “is paperwork recognizing Reese Leone's arrival here on Sapphire, signed by your representative. Your recognition by us as a free nation made all residents of Sapphire citizens. Thus, his actions as well as those of the other pirates and slavers here are still your responsibility.”
James Conley had gone pale and his feet hit the floor as he sat up straight. “You can't hold me responsible for the actions of a few elements...”
“We can,” Daniel said with a leveled glare. “Wars have begun over less. Nations have fallen and planets have been seized under such circumstances. When you signed those documents with me, you made Sapphire into a nation... and your cooperation and lack of cooperation became far bigger than you might think.”
“Under a variety of treaties,” Ensign Giovanni said, “all it would take would be an official representative of the United Colonies Parliament --and in this case I would do-- to authorize Captain Beeson to seize control over this planet. With our ansible network, we could have a detachment of ships here within a month, either from our own forces or from allies. This colony could be seized in recompense for hostile actions.”
“What do you want?” Copley asked in a defeated tone.
“Clean this place up. Get rid of the other slavers, abolish slavery, and arrest the remaining pirates. You know, make this place a real colony world,” Daniel said. “Oh, and also have one of your fastest, most trustworthy ships take a message back to United Colonies space. We'll be back through here soon after we finish our other business. If you haven't made significant progress, then by the letter of the law we are 'allowed to seek proper redress for our grievances.'“
Daniel Beeson smiled as Ensign Giovanni said in an earnest tone, “That means we seize your planet.”
***
The Cutthroat, flagship of the late and unlamented Two-Fingers, had seen better days.
“Well, what do we know?” Commander Bowder asked.
Ensign Medica restrained a sigh. Not for the question itself, but more for all the explanation that it would take to answer such a seemingly simple question. He opened his mouth to begin and then Rory stuck his head into the compartment.
“Ah, Colonel, could you give me a hand?” Rory asked as he dragged a heavy conduit over towards them.
“Commander,” Commander Bowder hissed.
“Oh, I don’t actually have a military rank, do I, Feliks?”
“Uh, no,” Feliks shook his head from where he peered at a fried console.
“Right, so you can just call me professor or doctor,” Rory said. “Here, hold this.” The engineer passed the end of the conduit to the XO and then walked away.
Ensign Medica rushed over to take the power conduit away from the XO. Commander Bowder looked down at his now-sooty hands and wrinkled his nose in distaste. This is not good, Ensign Medica thought to himself.
Ensign Medica didn't like the color that the XO had turned. It probably wasn't healthy and since most of their medics were all down on the planet trying to help those who'd been effected by the event.
“What are you doing?” Commander Bowder demanded. “We asked for you to look the ship over, to see what you could discover...”
“Oh, yes,” Rory said, “We did that already.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that the XO still didn't have his power conduit. Rory looked around and then spotted Ensign Medica. He snapped his fingers peremptorily and Ensign Medica sighed as he dragged the heavy cable over. To think, he thought, I could have been a civilian engineer, with an expensive apartment and a fat bank account...
Rory took the conduit and then quickly began to splice it into the panel. “So,” Rory said, “this ships has definitely had a lot of upgrades done to it, judging by some of the parts, I'd say in the Centauri Confederation.
“The Delta Pavonis system, without a doubt,” Feliks interrupted, “the manuals are all in Russian but the notes are in Chinese.”
“Right,” Rory said, “which means this pirate of yours has a highly advanced prototype weapon.”
“He wasn't just a pirate, he was a slaver too,” Commander Bowder said. “Go on.”
“All that was easy stuff, something anyone could put together. We already got the power systems and engines online and I'm going to recommend sending this ship back to the United Colonies so that we can study the weapon. At this point, it's not a technology issue, it's an engineering one, and even someone like James Harbach could handle that.”
“He would whine about the interruption and drag his feet, I am sure,” Feliks said.
“So if you're done with all of that, what are you doing now?” Commander Bowder demanded.
Rory ignored him for a moment as he started to boot up the console, “Ah, perfect!” He brought up the console and then began to go through data logs. “This was the targeting system for the weapon. It's a bit rudimentary, basically a directional discharge, but...”
“But?” Commander Bowder asked.
“They also contain a highly detailed electromagnetic sensor set, in order to provide as much control and fine-tuning over the weapon as possible,” Feliks said as his console booted up. “It should provide us with precise measurements of what happened when the weapon fired.”
“Which is why we've got it booted up,” Rory said, “in case you were too stupid to interpolate.”
“What did you find?” Commander Bowder asked. To his credit, he ignored what Rory's addition. Ensign Medica was a bit surprised. Then again, the two scientists took a great deal of patience to handle. Maybe I can get shot, Ensign Medica thought, not lethally, but enough so that they put me on convalescent leave and I don't have to deal with them.
Rory threw his hands in the air, “There's over seventy petabytes of data here, it will take us months to parse all the data! You want an answer right now?!”
Commander Bowder gritted his teeth, “Clearly it was important enough that you felt the need to immediately check it, can you at least tell me what you're looking for?”
“Oh, we're just confirming a theory,” Rory waved a hand. “Feliks was concerned that we might have generated a powerful enough current that we caused detachment of Sapphire's magnetic field. That would have caused a massive-scale electromagnetic burst.”
“Okay,” Commander Bowder nodded, “That's what we wanted to avoid, right?”
“Exactly,” Rory said. “You see, it's very interesting, because the magnetic force required apparently isn't as much as we'd thought. In fact, you could probably manage it with a ship half this size. In fact, if my rough calculations are correct, then I give it an eighty percent--”
“Hmm,” Feliks shook his head, “Sixty percent, at most.”
“Ninety percent,” Rory continued, “chance of success at utilizing the planet's magnetosphere to generate a high-level directional pulse.”
“Which means what?” Commander Bowder asked.
“Essentially, a weaponized planet,” Feliks said. “Which is what could have happened if our calculations had been off, which would have destroyed all systems aboard the Constellation.”
“Wait, wait,” Commander Bowder held up a hand, “did you say weaponize a planet?”
“Yes, it's very trivial,” Feliks waved a hand.
“At least we would have survived an attack like that, right?” Ensign Medica asked. “I mean, we wouldn't have been hit by the high intensity radio and microwave frequencies that cooked everyone here.”
“Oh, that's true enough,” Feliks said. “We were much too far away for that to happen. Of course, we'd be trapped aboard ships without functioning power, radiation shielding, or environmental systems. So it would be likely that we would either freeze to death or suffocate and if we didn't, we'd likely die of radiation poisoning within a few weeks or months.”
Ensign Medica's stomach fell. “I thought this weapon was designed to neutralize a ship for capture...”
“Oh, yes,” Feliks nodded, “but this planetary-scale discharge would completely destroy all functional technology not only where we were, but also for everything in orbit, on the surface of the planet, and for many hundreds of thousands of kilometers around.”
“No,” Rory shook his head, “there's no way we'd die from suffocation, much less radiation exposure.” Ensign Medica breathed a sigh of relief, but Rory's continued words stilled that, “The Constellation has antimatter warheads and a power core. Although they're all shielded to a large extent, there's no way they'd hold up against such a focused bombardment. We'd have lost containment on something over fifty kilograms of antimatter before we even realized we were dead.”
“Oh,” Ensign Medica said, his stomach feeling hollow as he tried to calculate the yield of that much antimatter meeting matter as their electromagnetic matrices failed all at the same instant all in close proximity.
“Why didn't you tell us this before?” Commander Bowder asked.
Rory blinked at him, “Well, I thought all that was all pretty obvious.”
Feliks nodded, “Yes, it was very trivial.”
***
Alannis stood crisply at attention as the six officers carried the casket past.
She watched as they settled the casket in the airlock, covered by the blue and green flag of the United Colonies. They had his official military holograph on display against the bulkhead, but all that Alannis saw was his ruined face after the pirate had executed him. He never had a chance, she thought, and it's all my fault.
Captain Beeson stepped forward as they filed out of the airlock and assembled. There wasn't a large area for this final ceremony, not here by the airlock. They'd already had a larger memorial service. This was a final farewell. “In the tradition of the service, we commit our dead to space, into the stars from which we all come.”
Alannis didn't know Lieutenant Commander Douglass's faith. She wondered if one day she would have a similar ceremony... or if her remains would be lost to space in the destruction of a ship or the violence of space combat. Or if I'll live through all that, she thought, and be haunted by the dead like my brother.
“Farewell,” Captain Beeson said and gave a nod.
Lieutenant Forrest Perkins cycled the airlock. A simple rocket assist launched the casket out the airlock, set in a declining orbit that would eventually bring the officer's remains to the system's star.
Just like that, he was gone. According to her faith, gone on to a better reward... but Alannis and the others were left with the world they lived in. Alannis couldn't do anything for him... nothing but to swear to avenge him.
A pirate may have been the one to pull the trigger, but Reese had killed him. She would bring her ex-husband to justice and she would make certain he paid for his crimes... even if it was the last thing that she did.
***
Chuni caught up to her not long afterward, just outside Alannis's quarters.
“Ensign, I need to formally apologize to you,” Chuni said. “As your friend and companion, I should have remained by your side and fought.”
Alannis blinked at her in surprise, “Chuni, you helped to rescue me. If not for you, I'd be dead or still captive.”
“But I could have acted,” Chuni said. “I might have stopped them from killing Lieutenant Commander Douglass. I could have stopped them from kidnapping you. I hesitated because I wanted to avoid the risk, perhaps if I had not...”
“It isn't your fault,” Alannis said. It was my fault, she thought. “It was more important that word get out to the Captain. You did that, which gave him some time to react. If you had just charged in, you would be dead.” Certainly the pirates had been ready for armed resistance. She didn't see how fighting at that time could have changed anything.
“Still, I feel as if I owe you a debt,” Chuni said in a subdued voice. “I was too worried about... about my own situation that I did not think of your safety first.”
“You don't owe me anything,” Alannis said and she couldn't help a trace of bitterness in her voice. “In case you haven't really thought about it, my family has a direct responsibility for what happened to you. My brother was a part of the raid that took down your homeworld's defenses. My distant cousin, the Emperor, was the one who ordered the attack that made you an orphan and forced you to grow up in a refugee camp.”
Chuni's hide went dark blue. “There is much dishonor on both sides. Sometimes I fear that were I to spend my entire life I could never avenge all the dishonors done to my people.”
Alannis shook her head at that, “At least it isn't your job to do that, right?”
Chuni's hide shifted in a series of colors and then she spoke in a low voice, “Alannis, my friend, could we speak in private?”
“Sure,” Alannis said and led the way into her quarters. Ashtar Shan was back on shift, so she had their quarters to herself.
Chuni stooped low to draw inside. “Do you happen to have any coke?”
Alannis hid a smile as she pulled some out of the tiny refrigerator. She occasionally drank such drinks to give her a bit of a boost between shifts, but if she understood right, caffeine had a very different effect upon Ghornath.
Chuni cracked open the bottle and then drained it in several deep swallows. She belched, “Excuse me, I don't normally indulge myself... but that hit the spot.” Her mirror-like eyes were inscrutable, but her hide had shifted to a more neutral brown. “I apologize to you, Alannis, for I haven't been entirely honest with you. I have a secret that I have not shared with nearly anyone, not even those of my own race. In fact, only two of my people even know the truth: Rastar and the warrior who raised me.”
Alannis leaned back against her bunk. She didn't know what this had to do with her friendship with the female Ghornath, but she could respect that Chuni felt it was important.
“My name,” her friend said, “is Hycar Barratta Annar, I am the daughter of the old Emperor and the sister to the murdered Emperor Hyrune. I am the last of the House of Annar and the rightful heir the throne.”
Alannis stared at her, “Wait... you're a princess?”
Chuni's hide flushed green with humor, “Yes... like you, I am descended from royalty.”
“So why is this a secret?” Alannis asked. “I mean, shouldn't your people welcome you? Why are you a junior officer?” She cringed at the thought of how easily her friend could have died, both in the ambush and her one-person rescue attempt.
“Because while respect for my line is a founding principle of my people, it is important that I earn their respect. Part of why my world capitulated when the Nova Romans attacked is that the warriors did not trust in my brother's rule. He was a child, he had not had an opportunity to prove himself, to lead his people.” Her hide turned a deep blue and her voice held a layer of sadness.
“So you're trying to prove yourself?” Alannis asked.
Chuni nodded, “I'm trying to gain as much honor, as much Chigathi as I can, so that when the time comes to reveal myself, warriors will be proud to support me.”
Alannis slowly settled back onto her bunk. This was higher level politics that she had definitely not expected. She felt entirely blindsided... but she realized that she shouldn't have. Her friend had asked all kinds of odd questions, about how Alannis balanced her family connections and her military career. No wonder she sought me out as a friend, Alannis thought, she must identify with me quite a bit.
The similarities in their situations was such that Alannis felt an odd echo herself. I'm not trying to prove myself, Alannis thought. Yet the thought felt wrong somehow. She wasn't just trying to prove herself, she really did want to serve... but there was some element of proving herself. Her brother, Lucius, had decades of an impressive military career, while Alannis had been barred from service because of the actions of her father. “Well,” Alannis said, “I'm glad you confided in me... Hycar.”
Alannis realized that one thing she truly appreciated about Chuni was that she understood Alannis's own position. Far too many people assumed that being the sister of the Emperor was a good thing. They assumed that she could do or have whatever she wanted, that her relationship guaranteed her a good assignment and fair --or better than fair-- treatment.
The reality was that it brought far more responsibilities than benefits. For one thing, her brother wasn't about to do her any favors... or at least none he wouldn't do for any other competent officer. For another, she was well aware that everything she did reflected back upon her brother. Being who she was brought far more duties than anything else... and Chuni had seemed to understand that.
As well she might, Alannis thought, she's in the same circumstances.
“It is good to be able to,” Hycar said. “Secrets are rare among my people and it feels wrong to deceive them even under these circumstances. Yet my mentor, Grathir, he feared that if I revealed myself before I have earned chiga, then I would not have the full backing and trust of my people.”
“So then... the story you told us about the Nogathi, that they were needed to lead your people back to the Sacred Stars... are you capable of doing that?” Alannis asked.
Princess Hycar nodded, “That is the thought. I think that my mentor had shared my identity with Fleet Consul Maygar, which is why he sent the Goronto away from the battle at Gebreynr, so that I might survive and lead at least some of my people through the Gates of Hallidas.”
“How will you do that?” Alannis asked.
Chuni's hide flushed yellow, “That, I am not certain. The old stories say that all of my line were gifted with mental abilities, what humans call psionics... yet I have never manifested those. In fact,I fear what may happen if I can't. It would be a final rejection and it might well destroy my people if we cannot get past that barrier.”
“We'll figure it out,” Alannis said. Yet her stomach sank as she considered the problem. She didn't know much about psychic abilities. Her grandmother had been a psychic, though how powerful she'd been, Alannis didn't really know.
Lucius had told her that he suspected their father had been psychic. It was thought that such things were hereditary among humans... but she didn't know what that might mean in regards to the Ghornath, whether for them it was something genetic or something altogether different.
For that matter, neither Lucius nor I have ever shown any signs of such abilities, she thought. Surely if it was genetic, then one or the other of them would have, right?
“My friend,” Chuni said, “Now you know why I hesitated to come to your rescue. My concern for my people, my worry about my responsibilities, they overwhelmed me. I feared what might happen if I followed what honor required of me...”
“No,” Alannis held up one hand, “I said before that you made the right decision. Knowing your secret, I say there is no doubt. Fighting and dying there in the street would have accomplished nothing for myself or Lieutenant Commander Douglass and it would have imperiled your race's future. It was a bad situation to be in... but you made the right call.”
After a long moment, Chuni gave a slow nod, her hide still blue with sorrow. “Still, I owe you a debt as your friend. This enemy, this Reese, who you told Captain Beeson about, who is he? An enemy of your family?”
Alannis grimaced, “He's my former husband and...” she hated to even say the words, but she forced them out, “he's the father of my son.”
“What?!” Chuni's hide turned yellow. “He abandoned you? Why would he do such a thing?”
“He didn't abandon me,” Alannis growled, feeling extremely off-balance. She hated to even explain it, it brought back her feelings of betrayal even more. “He and I disagreed about my pursuit of military service to the point that he left me over it. He came back and said he'd try to accept it and we'd started to try to put our relationship together. Only I learned that he hadn't accepted it, he decided to hack my fertility implant to make certain I'd get pregnant and to prevent me from joining the military.”
Chuni stared at her for a long moment, “I'm not fully certain I understand... but it does seem as if he betrayed your wishes. Certainly, though, offspring are something to celebrate?”
Alannis nodded, “Yes. I love my son, Anthony. Sometimes it's just hard... he looks so much like his father.”
“It must be hard,” Chuni said softly, “not only to be the only parent for your son, but also under such circumstances. How old is he?”
“Three standard years,” Alannis said
“Ah,” Chuni nodded, “Among Ghornath, that is when we are first taking interest in things beyond food and shelter. We learn our first words, then, too.” Chuni gave a slight sigh, “It would be nice to have offspring of my own. I know that when I am Empress, I will no longer have a choice about such matters. I will be forced to select a mate and produce heirs.”
“Have you any, uh, likely mates in mind?” Alannis asked.
Chuni flushed an odd pinkish color, “No!” Her protest came too quickly, though, and Alannis wondered if the big, warrior female thought about Rastar. I'm sure they'll find a way, Alannis thought, though I'll have to make her see that it's possible. She wanted her friend to find someone.
“Have you given any thought to remarrying?” Chuni asked. “It is good for a child to have two parents.”
Alannis flushed, “That's, uh, not something I've really thought much about.”
“I have noticed that Lieutenant Perkins is a skilled officer...”
“Princess Hycar,” Alannis said as she flushed deeper, “that's probably not something I should discuss right now. Lieutenant Perkins is senior to me in rank...”
“Ah, yes, you will need to get promoted, which will require you gain honor in combat,” she said. “Victories are earned in battle and nothing heats up the blood like a good fight.” She clapped Alannis on the shoulder and actually winked at her.
This conversation turned a corner I certainly didn't expect, Alannis thought.
***
Chapter XIV
The Constellation, Shadow Space
December 22nd, 2407
“Sir,” Commander Bowder said, “I think it's time to revisit the decision not to send a message back to Fleet.”
Daniel had already half expected the XO to say something like that, especially after the other man had asked to speak with him privately. “Why do you say that?”
It was clear that Commander Bowder didn't feel entirely comfortable with what he had to say. He flushed and it took a long moment before he could speak. “Sir,” he said, “we've lost one of our senior officers. We very nearly lost the ship, if not for the actions of Lieutenant Perkins and the words of those two civilian scientists, we would have lost the ship. The Emperor's sister was kidnapped. If anything happens to us at this point, the Fleet needs to know.”
Daniel gave a nod, “They do, which is why I gave an encrypted chip to James Conley to send back to the United Colonies.”
His XO gave a wave, “Sir, even assuming we can trust him to do that... there's no guarantee that his ship would cover the distance. Worse, there's every chance they'll be fired upon as pirates --justifiably so-- when they do arrive!” He shook his head, “Captain, we have the means to send a fast and secure message via ansible, to confirm with Fleet that we should continue on this mission...”
“And possibly give warning to whoever it was that attacked the Ghornath Fleet?” Daniel interrupted.
“We have no confirmation of that, sir,” Commander Bowder shook his head. “In fact, given the large number of pirates we've already encountered it seems more and more likely that some kind of pirate alliance attacked them.”
“How did they follow them back?” Daniel asked.
“Maybe they didn't,” Commander Bowder said. “Maybe they were two different groups. Maybe it was unrelated. There's so much we don't know, sir, including what we might run into in the Akris system.”
Isn't that an understatement, Daniel thought. The Ghornath had not made it that far. James Conley, pirate king, had said that no one returned from there, be they refugee, slaver, or pirate. Akris wasn't a recently charted star system, the shadow space coordinates they had were decades out of date. They'd plotted their emergence for off the elliptic plane and close to the edge of the system, the better to be away from any potential threats.
It might be a local hazard that caused ships to disappear... or it might be whoever had attacked the Ghornath Fleet. “The problem is,” Daniel said, “we don't know. If these unknown enemies do have the ability to monitor our anisble transmissions, then we'd be giving them warning.”
Commander Bowder looked mulish, but he didn't argue. Daniel could admit to himself that he felt more than a little skeptical, but Kandergain had said that it might be possible for a psychic. Rory seemed to think it would be possible to build a device to do the same thing. Neither of them had any idea how to do it though. What they did know for certain was that intercepting ansible communications would also allow them to triangulate their position.
If they were right, then it meant someone --more importantly, someone hostile-- had that ability. If Daniel were to send off an update via ansible, he would give away the only advantage they had: surprise. No matter how cryptic he made that transmission, the enemy would know right where the Constellation was... and any further communications would give them their exact course.
“I don't like it either,” Daniel said. “If nothing else, then Lieutenant Commander Douglass's family should get the information about how he died... but we cannot risk the ship and this venture.”
Commander Bowder pursed his lips, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Somehow his XO's reluctant agreement didn't make Daniel feel any better. It was Daniel who had sent Lieutenant Commander Douglass and Ensign Giovanni without a Marine escort. What had happened to them was his fault. It was a stupid decision on his part and it was one that haunted him. What if this were another?
“Sir,” Commander Bowder said, “by your leave, I'll get back to my duties.” Daniel could see that his Executive Officer looked tired. Clearly he had personal demons to wrestle with, especially given his past. He'd fought a mutiny against his commanding officer to support the United Colonies government. He'd seen close-range death... and he'd come away from it a cynical man. Daniel just hoped that whatever demons the death of Lieutenant Commander Douglass had stirred up, that his XO would be able to dispatch them and move on... or seek help.
That's the real problem with travel through shadow space, he thought, too much time to think. “Dismissed, Commander,” Daniel said. A few minutes later, he was left alone again to wrestle with his own demons.
***
The Constellation emerged in the Akris system with Daniel Beeson aboard the bridge, every sensor scanning, and every weapon system online, and the crew ready for anything.
Anything but this, Daniel thought as alarms shrieked and all the sensors on one side of the ship went blind. “Status report!” From the way the Constellation had heaved, they'd experienced severe frame-shift as the ship emerged from shadow space, a sure sign that their jump calculations had been off by a significant margin.
“Radiation warnings, gravitational shear warnings... this stuff is off the charts,” Lieutenant Cassat reported. “My god... there's no system primary...”
Daniel blanched as he caught the details from the sensors they did have. The system's primary star, a blue-white super-giant was simply gone. Worse than that, a densely-swirling cloud of gasses and debris angled along the system's plane. He realized what he was seeing just as Lieutenant Cassat spoke, “Sir, it appears that Akris Prime has gone supernova and has produced a black hole.” The Goronto with Strike Leader Burbeg emerged only a few hundred kilometers to their flank, he saw.
Daniel nodded slowly. “Do we have time to plot an escape course?” They had planned for intelligent threats, but not a natural hazard. A lesson I should learn from and make certain to instruct the crew on... assuming we survive the next few minutes.
“If we didn't have our defense screens and radiation shielding at full power, we'd already be dead,” Lieutenant Forsberg said. Unlike in the entertainment vids, the real threat to a ship wasn't the gravitational forces. It was the radiation generated by the gasses in the condensation cloud that surround the newly formed singularity. The whirling disk spun at such high speeds closer to the black hole that the impacts produced a constant stream of high energy electromagnetic radiation.
“It's actively feeding, but we're just off angle... I think,” Lieutenant Forsberg said.
Daniel looked at his navigational officer, “Well, Lieutenant Forsberg, get us out of here.”
“Plotting a course now, sir,” he responded. “I'm having issues, the nova's expansion wave is occluding our forward sensors. We can't get a good visual of the Gates.”
Daniel frowned. “Strike Leader Burbeg, do you have any way to generate coordinates?”
The reply was a mix of garbled static… and then the Goronto leapt to shadow space. Clearly their psychic pilot had plotted a course… and just as clearly they’d transmitted them and the transmission was scrambled by the background mess of radiation.
Without Burbeg’s ship, they didn't have any kind of jump coordinates for the Gates of Hallidas. The only way to do that was to make small navigational jumps in that direction, which required visual observation of nearby stars along the path and then sampling of shadow space along the way. If they couldn't see physical features of stars to compare against existing data, they wouldn't be able to extrapolate on relative momentum or positions. They'd be jumping blind. Worse, they'd be jumping out of the twisted space around a singularity which could send the ship spinning or or hurtling at high velocity into cosmic debris when they emerged from shadow space.
It would be difficult jump under any circumstances, he thought, but if we can't even get visual sensors of our target...
Even as he thought that, though, he saw Chuni had unstrapped from her console. The big Ghornath walked towards navigation, almost as if she were in a trance. She gently pushed past Lieutenant Forsberg and then, slowly, began to type in commands on his console.
“What are you...” Lieutenant Forsberg trailed off as he watched.
Daniel's eyes widened as he realized what she was doing. A navigational course appeared, overlaid on his screen and the navigational computer chirped to acknowledge the coordinates. Chuni stepped back and her hide went pale as she looked around.
“You're psychic?” Daniel asked in surprise.
“I...”
Alarms shrilled again and Daniel saw red lights flash across his displays. “Sir!” the XO snapped, “we're seeing a fluctuation in the defense screens, they're not going to hold much longer!”
“Lieuteant Forsberg, initiate the jump,” Daniel snapped. He just hoped that Chuni knew what she was doing.
With a flare of light, the Constellation dropped into shadow space.
***
“What's our status?” Daniel asked a few hours later. In the immediate aftermath of the jump, he'd put all hands on standby and tasked his department heads with checking for damage.
“Defense screen magnetic coils are taxed, but they held up well,” the XO said. Commander Bowder gave a shrug, “Then again, if they hadn't, we'd have been dead before we realized it.”
“The crew still sustained abnormally high levels of radiation,” Lieutenant Wohlberg said. “I've already prescribed a series of anti-radiation doses for the crew, depending on their locations and exposure throughout the ship. It should flush everyone's systems of any irradiated particles, but I'll still need to monitor overall crew health for the rest of the voyage.”
Daniel nodded. He wasn't looking forward to the check-ups, but he knew it was necessary. The radiation they'd been exposed to could be enough to mess with the crew's DNA. It could lead to a number of nasty short-term issues and in the long term, it could cause cancer and other terminal diseases.
Their life extension treatments should have stabilized their DNA and also prevented a lot the mutagenic hazards, but that only did so much in the face of high exposure. It could only repair so much of damaged cells and DNA and generally it was best to have boosters given as necessary.
“How are we doing at sensors?” Daniel asked.
“We had all sensors set to maximum sensitivity,” Lieutenant Cassat reported dully. The young officer looked exhausted. “Most of our passive sensor arrays are burned out. We're repairing and replacing what we can as fast as we can.” He gave a sigh. “We've also been reviewing the data we did get in as much detail as possible, and...” Lieutenant Cassat shrugged and then brought up the conference room display.
The Akris system appeared again. Dozens of objects flashed, highlighted by Ensign Yamahito. “Those are all ships,” Lieutenant Cassat said, his voice leached of emotion.
Daniel winced. “How many?”
“My techs confirmed thirty-seven. They identified three of them, one was a pirate vessel, the other two were missing refugee ships.” He nodded at Ensign Giovanni, “Communications picked up transmissions from several other vessels, some of them near the event horizon.”
Daniel winced at that, “Surely they're not...”
Ensign Giovanni shook her head, “I think they were all automated recordings, sir. Most of the data is badly garbled. I've transcribed what I can. There's crew rosters, pleas for help... some of it will take weeks to repair to generate readable data.”
Daniel closed his eyes as he considered that. In all likelihood, any ship in the Akris system for more than a few hours would be empty of life. Yet the thought that he and his crew had fled to safety while someone might have been praying for rescue...
“Thank you, Ensign. Let me know when you've finished transcribing the data.” Daniel opened his eyes. “Anything else?” When no one spoke, he gave a nod. “Dismissed.”
He waited as they left. A moment later, Commander Bowder spoke, “How many, do you think?”
Daniel closed his eyes again. “Thirty-seven ships that we saw. Probably dozens more in the accretion disk or on the other side or simply destroyed. Refugee ships, pirates, merchants...” He shook his head, “Thousands, maybe tens of thousands.”
Commander Bowder nodded, “That's what I thought, too. He shifted uncomfortably, “Have you thought about what I said before?”
Daniel nodded. “I have.”
“You know that if we don't send out a warning, other ships may come. The Ghornath Fleet might come through Akris... they might lose every ship.”
“Yeah, I know,” Daniel said. He looked up from the display and met his XO's gaze. “But there's something you need to know, something I haven't told anyone else yet.” He raised a data chip, “I had Rory and Feliks analyze the probability of Akris's primary star going supernova and forming a singularity and then working back the timing based on our observations of the supernova remnant. They project that Akris Prime wasn't a good candidate for it. In fact, they assured me that it was 'statistically unlikely' in the extreme. They also project that it happened around twenty years ago... roughly around the time of the fall of Ghornath Prime.”
His XO blinked at him as he thought that through. The Akris system lay on the only known route towards the Ghornath's “Sacred Stars.” Something... possibly someone... had destroyed the star to block any ships seeking the Ghornath's past at the same time as they would be mostly likely to venture there. Daniel gave a grim nod as Commander Bowder's face went pale. “So we have an unknown enemy who can intercept ansible communications and destroy star systems... do you still think we should call home and let them know where we are?”
***
“What have you learned?” Her fellow conspirator asked.
“Our Captain has a bigger stick up his ass than even I thought,” Lieutenant Krysta Busch responded with a scowl. Her handler didn't so much as smirk at her humor, he just stared at her with cold, dead eyes. Krysta glanced at the sensor indicator on her quarters, but as she had suspected when her handler arrived without the door sounding as he opened, the sensor's indicator light had gone dark. He's suborned the system, she thought. Not a big surprise given some of his access, but it did leave her feeling unsettled.
He could do anything he wanted and no one would ever know he was here, she thought and shivered. He'd told her once that he’d long since done away with a real name, that he was so embedded in his role that he actually thought of himself as the man he portrayed. Still, that didn’t change the fact that he was the sole surviving senior member of the Dreyfus Conspiracy. He'd taken the time to explain to her all the resources he could access and that would have convinced her to sign on even if his threat of silencing her permanently hadn’t.
He gave her a cold smile, a clear sign that he'd read her fear. He wanted to unsettle her... and the fact that he had even bothered to do that meant that her predicament was worse than she'd feared.
“What do you want me to do?” Krysta asked in a quiet, subdued voice. She didn't think for a second about trying to turn evidence on him. He'd know the second she went to any of the senior officers.
“Clean up this mess,” he said. He passed over a cheap datapad. “I don't care what the Ghornath are into, but it's their business. There's no point in risking our lives for theirs.”
She nodded in instant reply. Back when she'd signed up with Amalgamated Worlds Fleet, there'd been no talk about alliances with aliens. The Chxor were just some backwater aliens trapped on one world and the Ghornath were just a cultural oddity, scientifically advanced but societally primitive, they even had an Emperor!
How ironic that I now 'serve' an Emperor too, she thought with a sneer. “What do you want me to do, then?”
“Access the ansible compartment and send a distress call. Fleet will pulse our ansible with override codes and that will yield our information,” her handler said. “That should be enough, but in case it isn't, I've already programmed a bypass for the armory.”
“You want me to kill the Captain?” Krysta asked in shock. It wasn't that killing someone sat poorly with her, she just didn't think she could get access to his quarters with his Marine guards.
“No,” he admonished. “Not the Captain. If he dies, the XO takes over and this mission continues. No, you need to kill Ensign Giovanni.”
Her eyes went wide at that. Lucius Giovanni had already proven remarkably dangerous, especially in the few attempts on his life. She didn't want to think about what he'd do to her if he found out she'd killed his little sister.
“Don't worry,” he said, “as soon as you do the deed, I'll move to protect you. You aren't my only agent aboard the ship.”
Krysta nodded in response. It would look bad, her disappearing on a ship in shadow space, but from what she knew, her handler had arranged for even more impressive disappearances. He'd hidden his own survival, after all, despite everything that “Emperor” Giovanni had done to find him.
It would serve the little bitch right, Krysta thought, after she took over my department. A smile began to grow on her face. It would be so easy, after all. Just the squeeze of a trigger and then the little princess would be dying, bleeding, not even knowing why.
She took the datapad. “How much time do I have?”
“The security network comes back online in thirty minutes,” her handler said.
I'd better get moving, she thought.
***
“Oops,” Alannis said as she ran into someone in the hatch.
“My fault,” Lieutenant Perkins gave her an apologetic grin, “I saw Ensign Shan and didn't notice you coming behind.” He gave her a look, realizing that she must have just finished up here at the ship's gym. “All done, I take it?”
Was it her, or did his eyes linger a little too long on her? I'm imagining things, she thought. Not that she would have minded him looking at her a bit. He was tall, with a friendly smile and jet-black hair. His gaunt features were about as far as one could get from those of Reese, yet still oddly handsome and definitely masculine.
She realized she'd been quiet too long, “Uh, yeah, we just finished up.”
“Darn, I wouldn't mind some company,” Lieutenant Perkins said. He stepped out of her way, “have a good night, ladies.”
“So,” Ashtar Shan asked as Alannis joined her in the hallway, “he's cute.”
“Ashtar!” Alannis hissed, “He might hear you!”
“Nah, he put his earbuds in,” her friend responded as they started down the corridor.
“Well,” Alannis said, “Someone might hear.”
“So?” Ashtar asked, “I'm just commenting. It isn't like I was ogling him in his tight workout shorts.”
Alannis's face flushed, “I wasn't... was I?”
“Oh, yes, dear, you were,” Ashtar said. “Now, I can hardly blame you, coming from a more conservative culture, I rarely see that much leg on a man, but I at least had the good grace to stare at his back-side.”
“Oh, god,” Alannis said. Her hands went to her face, “Now people are going to think I'm some kind of sex-driven...”
“No,” Ashtar said, stepping forward to stand in front of Alannis. “Don't you dare start!” She shook her head, “Look, I come from a culture that is downright repressed compared to the rest of human space, and even I think you live like you took an oath of chastity.”
Alannis scowled, “That's not fair, I've been pretty busy...”
“You've gone out of your way to avoid any kind of social event, Alannis,” Ashtar said. “Even I went out more at the Academy than you did.”
“I'm a single mother,” Alannis growled.
“Who has dumped her kid off on her brother,” Ashtar scowled. “Trust me, if you were super-focused on your kid, I wouldn't be critical. But it's more like you're too scared to get yourself hurt. Look, I don't know the details about what happened with your ex-husband...”
“He betrayed me, he's worked with pirates and he murdered Lieutenant Commander Douglass,” Alannis snapped.
“...but not all men are like that. And really, sometimes it doesn't hurt to just have some fun, you know?” Ashtar finished. “Or just to admit you like window shopping. Even I do that.”
“Okay,” Alannis threw her hands in the air as they approached their quarters. “I give up, I'll admit it: I think Lieutenant Perkins is cute, okay? Are you happy now?”
“That's a start,” Ashtar said as she halted outside the hatch. “Just don't think that you have to be all prim and proper all the time. I hate to see you punishing yourself for something your former husband did, you know?”
Alannis's eyes misted up. She tried to tell herself that she wasn't punishing herself, but she couldn't force those words out. “I'll give it some thought.”
“Good,” Ashtar said as she toggled open the hatch, “and one other thing--”
The shots rang out in quick succession. Alannis saw her friend stumble back as the shadowed figure in their quarters continued to fire. The pistol clicked on an empty chamber and Alannis gave out a shout and charged.
Her attacker fumbled a new magazine in just as Alannis ran into her. Alannis grasped the pistol and twisted it, trying to get it away. In the dark and confusion she lost track of where it was and when the shots rang out and hot blood spattered her, for a second Alannis didn't know if she'd been hit or not.
Her attacker fell back, though and Alannis stared down at the dying woman. She recognized Lieutenant Busch, the woman's face pale with blood loss and pain. “It wasn't... wasn't supposed to...” Her eyes rolled up in her head and Alannis didn't spare her another thought.
“Ashtar,” Alannis spun and rushed to her friend's side, even as she pulled out her comm, “Security to officer's quarters!” she shouted into her comm, “Medical to officers’ quarters, now!”
The security team and corpsmen showed up in only a few minutes. She didn't need to see the sad look in their eyes to know that her friend was beyond saving.
***
While he had several names, Minder was the one he liked to use. Like most of his kind, he drew his name from his assigned task. Since that task was minding several races for threats, he liked to consider himself as Minder.
Most of the time, he liked his work. All of the threats he monitored were low-level and generally he only had to take small actions. A murder here or an assassination there and the threats were averted. Lately, however, his efforts had required far more effort... and garnered far greater losses than he'd prefer.
We have confirmed it, his subordinate told him, Giovanni's ship and a slave-race vessel are headed to the forbidden zone.
Minder snarled. He hated Giovanni. The human leader had become a thorn in his side. Too powerful to directly move against and too well protected to indirectly remove. If Giovanni had formed some partnership with the slave-race, then that increased their threat substantially. The two groups working together would be a serious upset to his race's plans... and that might well result in his removal.
Send warning to our scouts, he thought. He would have himself, but the Enemy's barrier proved extremely resistant. Positioned closer to the slave-race's bastion, his subordinate would be able to push a signal through the barrier. Prepare our strike force for immediate departure.
His subordinate's thoughts were wary, the strike force has taken substantial losses fighting the slave-race fleet.
We have no choice, Minder sent greater detail with the words, with the full implications that he foresaw. He let his subordinate think through to the inevitable conclusion. If their superiors removed Minder for failure, then it only followed that they'd remove his subordinates as well. Such removal would only result in termination, since their kind had little need for their agents elsewhere.
We will replace their losses soon enough, he told his subordinate, mostly to placate him. Most of the crews of their ships were sub-sentient menials. While neither of them felt good about sending them to their deaths, that didn't mean they wanted to lose more of them.
For that matter, replacing the ships wouldn't be easy. Building up their fleet in secret had been difficult, especially with the necessity to repurpose human technology for the task. Even if they lost the entire fleet, Minder knew, they would be able to recover.
I will give the order, his subordinate sent.
***
Chapter XV
UCS Constellation, Shadow Space
December 27, 2407
“It isn't your fault, Ensign,” Captain Daniel Beeson said. From the look on Ensign Giovanni's face, she wasn't hearing it.
“How is it not?” Ensign Giovanni shook her head. “That bitch was there to kill me. She got Ashtar, instead.”
Daniel Beeson shook his head, “I will repeat myself, Ensign: it isn't your fault. Lieutenant Busch pulled the trigger.”
His XO spoke up, “I might also add that she hacked our communications and armory with a cheap datapad with a hacking mod. Ship's security is still trying to figure out why she targeted you, but you didn't do it, she did.” There was an angry edge to Commander Bowder's voice, as if he were personally offended that the renegade officer had done so under his nose.
Ensign Giovanni didn't respond. Not that Daniel blamed her, she'd just seen her friend gunned down. Daniel could tell that his words weren't having the desired effect. “Ensign, you aren't the only one who's hurting. Our Marines just lost their commander.” His eyes narrowed, “In fact, haven't you been training with them?”
“Yes, sir,” Ensign Giovanni said, her voice dull. She clearly didn't see what that had to do with anything.
“Good,” Daniel said. “For now, I'm assigning you as their temporary commander. Get down to Marine country and give them some leadership.”
“Sir?” Ensign Giovanni asked in surprise. From the way her face went pale, she clearly dreaded the thought of seeing Ashtar's Marines right now.
“They're holding a wake. Go down there and join them,” Daniel said with a voice of exaggerated patience. He waited as she rose and left, her face wooden and her gait that of a woman of extreme age.
“You think that will help?” Commander Bowder asked.
“It can hardly hurt,” Daniel said. He rubbed a hand over his face, “My god, how did we miss this... how did I miss this?” Bad enough that he'd lost Lieutenant Commander Douglass, but now one of his officers had taken a shot at the Emperor's little sister and had murdered another of his officers.
“Things happen, sir,” Commander Bowder said with a gruff voice. “I should have caught something. Security is one of my baliwicks. I just never would have suspected that Lieutenant Busch would snap like this.”
And there's no question that she snapped, Daniel thought. The same datapad Busch had used to access the ansible and the armory had page after page of hate-filled screed. Apparently Daniel's rejection of her offer had incited a breakdown in an already mentally unstable woman, who had somehow come to believe that Ensign Giovanni was at fault for all that had befallen her.
“So... are we going to turn back, sir?” Commander Bowder asked.
“Hardly,” Daniel shook his head. If anything, the death of Ensign Ashtar Shan had only galvanized him. How could he turn back and abandon this mission when
“But, sir,” Commander Bowder said in surprise, “we know that her emergency call got through. We were queried by Fleet Command and their overrides pulled all of our data. If what you said about this unknown threat is true, then they'll know our course, our location, they'll expect us. Even some of the crew might think continuing on at this point would be foolhardy.”
“We're only a few days away from the Gates of Hallidas,” Daniel said and he chose his words with care. He knew that his XO was supposed to be the voice of caution, which was why he forced himself to remain calm. Commander Bowder wanted him to examine the course of action as clinically as possible, that was his job, after all. “Even assuming these unknown enemies of ours did pick up our transmission, then they'd have to be in position to intercept us. More likely than not, they can't have the resources to simply garrison the system, especially so far from any staging area, so it's likely that we're ahead of them.”
“You're assuming that they aren't based out of the Ghornath home system,” Commander Bowder said.
Daniel waved a hand at that, “In that case, we'll already face them when we emerge in the system. All that the late Lieutenant Busch accomplished was to give them some advanced warning to our arrival. But I think that highly unlikely, in any case. These attackers utilized human technology, not Ghornath. They would have had access to at least some Ghornath technology if they took over their home system, right?”
Commander Bowder nodded. “What if they have a psychic navigator? They might still be able to get into place to ambush us.”
“Then there's absolutely nothing we can do about it,” Daniel said. “I hate to put it this way and I certainly don't want it leaving this room, but if they are able to get into position, then deciding to turn back now won't save us. As soon as we emerge in the Gates of Hallidas they'll be in position to hit us.” It was a somber thought, but if these mysterious enemies had been able to ambush an entire fleet, then the Constellation and Goronto by themselves stood little chance.
“No,” Daniel said, “we're left with no choice. We'll be at battle stations when we emerge from shadow space, but we're not turning around. Furthermore, I intend to move with speed. We can't afford any delay now that the Ghornath's enemies know we're moving.”
Commander Bowder nodded slowly, “If we're going to do this, best to do it fast, sir, I understand the logic.” He frowned, “I hate to even bring this up, but what if Lieutenant Busch had succeeded and killed the Emperor's sister?”
Daniel scowled, “Then we'd do our duty regardless, Commander.” And I'd have to explain to Lucius afterwards about how I got his sister killed.
***
The whole way down to the Marine barracks Alannis fought the urge to turn and run away.
What can I say to them, she wondered. Her stomach dropped in dread. They would hate her, after this. They'd lost their leader in an attack meant for her.
The fact that she'd managed to avenge Ashtar did little to assuage her guilt. Ashtar should still be alive. She would have been far safer if she'd had nothing to do with Alannis. The damned Giovanni curse, she thought, only it's even worse for me, everyone I touch ends up dead.
As she opened the hatch and stepped into the Marine Lounge, she didn't know what to expect.
She found a somber group. Other than those Marines assigned to duty, the entire platoon had gathered. She saw at least two bottles of alcohol, a clear violation of shipboard regulations but not one that she felt any temptation to call them on. All of the gathered Marines froze as she stepped through the hatch.
“Platoon, attention on deck!” Gunnery Sergeant Tam snapped.
All of the Marines snapped to their feet. Gunny Tam snapped off a sharp salute, “Ma'am.”
“As you were,” Alannis said, feeling self-conscious. As the Marines went from rigid attention to slightly relaxed, she cleared her throat. “Captain Beeson, uh, instructed me to come down. He's assigned me as the platoon commander for now.”
Gunny Tam stared at her for a long, quiet moment. “Yes, ma'am,” he finally said. He spun to Staff Sergeant Witzke, “have someone bring up a chair for the Ensign.”
Alannis stood there awkwardly as they waited. A moment later she sat as Lance Corporal Sutton brought her a chair. The other Marines sat only after she did. The room was oddly quiet, until at last, Lance Corporal Sutton spoke. “We heard that you killed Lieutenant Busch after she shot the LT... Is it true, ma'am?”
Alannis felt her throat tighten. For just a moment her mind flashed back to the struggle in the dark, the loud sound of gunshots and then the hot splash of blood across her hands and face. She nodded, “Yes. She tried to kill me, we struggled.” She cleared her throat, “I tried to get the gun away from her and it went off.”
Alannis awaited recriminations. They couldn't say anything about her that she hadn't been thinkin already. She should have been faster, she should have been the one at the hatch. She should have been more alert...
“I'm glad you killed the bitch,” Lance Corporal Sutton said.
“Lance Corporal!” Gunny Tam snapped. “Lieutenant Busch was an officer. You can't refer to her as a bitch until after the investigation is complete.”
“Sorry, Gunny,” Sutton said. “Well, then I'm glad that she got a bad case of dead.”
The grumbles from the other Marines suggested that “bitch” was the least of the words they'd been slinging around before Alannis had come in. While that didn't surprise her, the pats on the back and the nods of appreciation for her dealing with Ashtar's killer certainly did.
The Marines went back to their quiet conversations and that left Alannis to come to grips with a startling realization. They don't hate me, she thought in shock. In fact, they seemed oddly welcoming.
“It's rough, losing someone like that.” Staff Sergeant Witzke said taking a seat next to her and passing over a small glass. The scent of raw alcohol made Alannis's nose burn. It was a pointed reminder that she hadn't drunk anything since the bottle of wine that Reese had presented her as part of an apology.
“Ensign Shan respected you, she'd be happy to know the platoon is in good hands,” Staff Sergeant Witzke said.
Alannis's shoulders straightened a bit and she took the glass. “I miss her. It's my fault, it's all my fault,” Alannis said. She downed the contents in a single gulp and the raw liquor burned all the way down to her stomach.
“No,” Staff Sergeant Witzke said, “it isn't. No more than it was her fault for getting shot. Lieutenant Busch pulled the trigger.”
As the alcohol began to burn its way into her system, Alannis nodded a bit. She couldn't let go of her guilt, not yet, but she could feel the tense, horrible sensation of doom lift a bit.
“Tonight, we drink for Ensign Ashtar Shan, a Fleet Officer good enough to be a Marine!” Gunny Tam barked. Glasses were raised and Alannis raised her own empty cup.
One of the Marines passed her another glass and Alannis knocked it back with them. For Ashtar, she thought, my friend.
***
“Lieutenant?” A gruff voice spoke over Forrest Perkin's comm unit.
“Yeah?” he asked as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. A glance at the display showed it was very early morning. With the death of Lieutenant Commander Douglass, Forrest had become the Tactical Officer. The Constellation's normal crew suggested a Lieutenant Commander, two Lieutenants, and two Ensigns for the department's officers.
Forrest only had Ensign Yamahito to help him out and they were short crew for the enlisted billets too. That meant he was pulling twelve hour shifts plus all the additional duties. Add to that the stress of having a fellow officer murdered and he was feeling pretty ragged.
“This is Gunny Tam,” the voice said, “I, uh, need your help and I know I can trust you.”
Forrest was quite suddenly awake. He'd been a point of contact for the counter-coup conspiracy and Forrest had dealt with Gunny Tam during that time and after the Dreyfus Mutiny. “What's the problem?” Please, he thought, let all that stuff be in the past. He knew they'd missed a handful of conspirators, but surely this didn't have anything to do with that...
“We, uh, had a ceremony for Ensign Shan. Ensign Giovanni joined us, as our new Platoon Commander, you see,” Gunnery Sergeant Tam said. Is it just me, Forrest wondered, or is the Gunny picking his words very carefully?
“She's very... tired and I'd appreciate an officer getting her back to her quarters,” Gunny Tam said.
“Ah,” Forrest said, putting things together. It would be very much against regulations for the Marines to have smuggled alcohol aboard, much less for them to drink it. Yet this was the kind of situation where the Captain might turn a blind eye... to a point. “Very tired, you say?”
“Very, sir,” Gunny Tam said.
“I'll get down there right away,” Forrest said with a sigh. He could well imagine that a drunken officer stumbling her way back to her quarters after slumming it with Marines would be the kind of thing to draw official attention. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes, he told himself.
***
Forrest opened the hatch to the Marine Lounge to find Ensign Giovanni standing on a table, “To Ashtar Shan!” She called out and knocked back a glass.
A handful of Marines matched her toast. Most of them, however, were passed out on the floor or across and under tables.
“Sir,” Gunny Tam gave Forrest a nod as he reached up to grab Ensign Giovanni by the arm. He started to help her down from the table, “Ma'am, the Lieutenant is here to help you back to your quarters.”
“Right, right,” she gave him a nod. Then, to Forrest's amusement, she actually winked at him. “We wouldn't want anyone getting in trouble.”
Forrest snorted, “No, we wouldn't. So, let's just head this way...”
For all of her drunken loudness in the Marine Lounge, she became remarkably quiet as Forrest led her down the corridors towards officer country. She wasn't steady, by any means, but she maintained enough of an outward appearance to pass.
As he led her off the lift and paused outside her quarters, though, she froze. “She died, right there,” Alannis said.
Forrest cleared his throat, “Sorry.”
“My fault,” she muttered. She seemed to have sobered up, either from the walk or the cooler air in the corridor. “It's my fault.”
“Look,” Forrest said, “let's get you inside.” He toggled the hatch and led the way inside. The quarters looked oddly sterile. His own shared quarters had pictures, at least. Lieutenant Cassat had pictures of his kids and parents. Forrest didn't have any surviving pictures of his wife and daughter, but at least he had some things he'd picked up to remind him of home.
When they'd collected Ensign Shan's possessions, they'd left very little. It seemed that either Alannis Giovanni traveled very light or she had little of her past that she wanted remembered. Forrest felt oddly sympathetic.
“Here you are,” Forrest said helping her to her chair. “Right as rain. I'll just be going...”
“No, please stay,” Alannis almost sobbed. “I can't be here alone, not after...”
“Right,” Forrest said. He sat, feeling awkward. “I'm sorry,” he said, searching for words to make it hurt less. “I know what it's like, to lose people.”
“Yeah,” she nodded, “but this time... she was trying to kill me, did you know that?”
Forrest shook his head, “I didn't. I'm sorry... but it's not your fault, you know that right?”
“Of course it's my fault,” she snapped in reply. She wiped away hot tears, “I know it's my fault. I should be the dead one, not Ashtar.” She shook her head, “My family is cursed, you know.” She said the last in a calm, conversational tone.
“No,” Forrest said.
“It's true,” she said in a conspiratory whisper. She leaned in close, “Anyone who gets close to us ends up dead. Lucius has lost dozens of friends. He nearly lost his daughter. The only woman he ever loved is in hiding. And then there's me... the handful of friends I had on Nova Roma died helping me to escape. Then, Reese, he helped Admiral Mannetti and it's my fault...”
“Look,” Forrest said, “I don't know about any of that, but you're taking too much on yourself. I don't believe in curses and whoever this Reese guy is, he sounds like a jerk.”
She recoiled from him, “He's the father of my son.”
“Oh,” Forrest flushed, “Sorry, I didn't know.”
“You wouldn't,” Alannis replied. She buried her face in her hands. “God, I don't even know, sometimes. How do I relate to the child of a man I hate so much?”
Forrest said the first thing that popped into his head. “At least your son is alive. My daughter died on Saragossa.” Crap, he thought, great job, play that card. The words had slipped out, but he couldn't help it. He had lost his wife and daughter on Saragossa. The familiar ache ambushed him and he buried his own face in his hands, “Shit, I'm sorry.”
“No, I'm sorry,” Alannis shook her head. “I'm drunk and I lost my friend, but I know that half the personnel in the Fleet have been there. We've all lost people.” She had an odd look on her face, “I just want to say thank you for staying with me.”
She put her hand on his and Forrest's arm tingled all the way up to his shoulder. Her small hand felt warm and Forrest suddenly realized just how close they were. I should not be thinking this kind of thing about the Emperor's sister, he thought.
“Ashtar was right,” Alannis said, “you are kind of cute.” Before Forrest could think up a response to that she passed out.
***
The spy sighed as he considered the outcome of his little maneuver. Lieutenant Busch had never been a particularly notable tool. In fact, he had never planned to use her for much more than passing an occasional message or perhaps blackmailing an officer with a convenient cut-out if things went wrong. Certainly her clumsy method of seduction hadn't been intended to succeed.
He had however, hoped she would at least prove competent enough to kill the right target. He had nothing against Ensign Shan. In fact, he had nothing in particular against Ensign Giovanni, she did her duty and worked hard.
The problem, however, was what she represented. The aristocracy that her brother represented would bring eventual doom to the human race, he knew. Like the others of Admiral Dreyfus's conspiracy, he had seen the visions, he knew exactly how desperate a fight humanity would face. There was no room in that fight for nobles playing at being leaders. They needed strong people in charge, those with the will and cunning to succeed and the strength of character to make the hard decisions.
People like me, he thought.
That was part of why he'd sought so hard to get an assignment to this ship in particular. He knew that Captain Beeson had been behind the counter-coup. He had wanted to take the measure of the man, to taste his dedication and skill... and to learn from him.
One of the reasons Admiral Dreyfus had lost was that he had not fully appreciated his opponents. He hadn't adapted his tactics and he had underestimated the loyalty and charisma that Lucius Giovanni generated. Captain Beeson had been shaped into the officer he was by the example of Lucius Giovanni... and this was as close as he could come to learning directly from the man himself.
It had been educational. In fact, he felt that as far as tactics went, Daniel Beeson was a superior officer. It was the overall strategy where he and Giovanni had gone wrong. They wanted to save all of humanity, which in the face of it was utterly absurd.
They could not fight the Balor on all fronts. Many systems had to be sacrificed, allowed to fall, in order to save a strong core. The vast majority of systems they sought to save would not thank them for it. In fact, in his experience, they'd betray their saviors on the first opportunity they had.
Only by allowing unimportant systems to fall and protecting the core systems would humanity survive. After they gained the upper hand, then they could liberate the worlds that had fallen. The survivors of those worlds would be pathetically grateful for their saviors and if they weren't... well, it would be easy enough to go from liberator to conqueror.
Giovanni and his followers didn't see the lessons learned on Tehran. A world that had been so hostile to the rest of human space had been tamed by their time under the rule of the Chxor. It had cost them dearly, but it was a transition that was worth the blood and loss of lives. Humans could be shaped and molded.
He had tried to shape Lieutenant Busch that way, but he'd seen early on that she only had so much potential. Other candidates had proven to be more amenable and he felt certain that after their return to Faraday, he would be able to integrate his new recruits into his new organization.
Her failure meant that they wouldn't return to Faraday just yet. He would have to accept that and he'd use the extra time to learn more from Captain Beeson. And who knew, perhaps he would find something useful in the Ghornath's Sacred Stars?
***
Gates of Hallidas
(Status Unknown)
December 29, 2407
Alannis felt it as soon as they emerged from shadow space. In fact, she'd been feeling something over the past couple days. It had been faint, like a song on the edge of hearing, but she'd known it was there.
As the Constellation emerged into the twin binary system, Alannis felt it deep in her bones. It was like a siren's call, indescribably beautiful... and she wasn't the only one to hear it.
Alannis's head snapped up as Chuni gave an odd cry. Her friend had moved forward, as if drawn to the display. Her hide flickered with colors, too fast and too complex for Alannis to interpret. “Do you hear it?” Chuni asked, her voice thick with emotion.
“I don't hear anything,” Captain Beeson said. “What's going on?”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Forsberg said from navigation, “the navigational computer is going nuts. I don't know what's going on, but even our inertial guidance systems are giving us severely distorted readings.”
Alannis frowned as she noticed signal intercept indicators on her displays. She went to work, even as she listened with some of her attention.
“Sensors?” Captain Beeson asked.
“We're seeing severe electromagnetic, physical, and even gravitational interference, Captain,” Lieutenant Cassat said. “The stars have elliptical baryonic orbits, both stars have serious wakes, dragging cometary debris and a variety of jetsam as well as solar particle tails over ten million kilometers in length. The mix of physical objects of various densities and energy states are giving our active and passive systems fits.”
“Sir,” Alannis said, looking up, “I've picked up a signal... you need to hear this.”
At Captain Beeson's nod, Alannis put it on the speakers. The melodious song was only an echo of what she could feel coming from the stars, but it was enough that the rest of the bridge crew seemed enthralled. “What is that?”
“It is the language of the Protectors,” Chuni said, “or as close to it as physical sounds can come. I can feel it, psychically. It is both welcome and warning.”
“Where is it coming from?” Captain Beeson asked.
Alannis brought it up on the display, “Here, sir, right where Lieutenant Cassat pinpointed the system's center.”
Captain Beeson looked at Lieutenant Cassat, whose people worked quickly. After a moment, he looked up, “There may be a facility there. Something artificial... I think.”
Chuni spoke up, “That will be where we need to go. The center of the Gates, only from there can we access the Sacred Stars.”
Captain Beeson nodded and looked at Alannis, “Ensign, open a channel to Strike Leader Burbeg's vessel, let him know that we've identified the central point and we're headed that way.”
Alannis nodded and she brought up the Ghornath vessel quickly. As she passed along the message, she couldn't help but notice the pale color of the Ghornath's hides... or their distracted tones of voice. They are seeing the end of the journey, Alannis thought.
She just hoped that whatever they found beyond the Gates was worth the cost they'd paid so far.
***
Chapter XVI
Gates of Hallidas
(Status Unknown)
December 30, 2407
“What is that?” Someone on the bridge gasped as the Constellation cleared the last bit of stellar gasses to get a good look at the facility at the heart of the system.
Whatever it was, Daniel noted, it wasn't small.
The facility was over a thousand kilometers across, with towers and projections that stood out from the central hull hundreds of kilometers. Arcane machinery dotted the construct, unknown devices that dwarfed Daniel's vessel. It was so big that it made his head hurt to think of the scale. At the heart of the construct lay a massive, open chamber... one that looked oddly like a gateway... if a gateway were designed to be thousands of kilometers across. An entire fleet could fly through there, Daniel thought.
He felt no surprise as Chuni pointed at the gateway, “There. That is where we must go.”
“Strike Leader Burbeg,” Daniel asked, “is this something your people built?”
“No,” he shook his head, “the ancient stories say that the Protectors built the Gateway.”
Daniel opened a channel to engineering, “Rory, Feliks, are you two seeing this?”
“We are,” Feliks said, “this is simply incredible.”
“What is it?”
“What is it!?” Rory snapped. “It's a construct over two thousand kilometers across. You want me to automatically know what it is?”
“It isn't that simple,” Feliks said, his voice adopting a lecturer's tone. “We haven't even begun to study it. It doesn't match parameters of anything else we've seen. We don't know who made it or really anything beyond some initial assumptions that we can draw...”
“Tell me what you know,” Daniel snapped.
“We can assume,” Rory said, “based upon analysis of pitting from debris that the construct is no older than twenty thousand years. The technology that we see, presumably that of these 'Protectors' doesn't match the parameters of any of the precurser species that we've previously encountered. Granted, we have limited sampling of several of those species but I think we can unequivocally exclude the Zar.”
“The Ben-Yam-Gar also,” Feliks interjected, “the design of these projections would be aesthetically offensive to them.”
“Ah, good catch,” Rory said.
“Thank you,” Feliks replied.
“So that excludes two of the four definitively,” Rory said. “The age of the construction makes the other two highly unlikely. We’ve never found anything less than a million years old and this…”
“Okay, so what do you know?” Daniel snapped.
“Well,” Rory said, “those projections, I'd guess they're defensive turrets. They give a free range of fire in almost all directions and the spectrographic analysis paints it as some kind of aluminum oxide crystal, probably synthetic sapphire as a collimator or lens...”
“The Gateway seems to be in standby mode,” Feliks said. “We see minimal power expenditures, just station-keeping systems.”
“So can we approach?” Daniel asked.
“Um...” Rory glanced at Feliks. “Fifty-fifty?”
“I would say sixty-forty,” Feliks shrugged.
“Okay,” Rory nodded, “we'd give it a sixty percent chance that the station will go active if we approach within a perceived threat radius or make any hostile action.”
“The Gateway's defenses should recognize our people's presence,” Burbeg said. “Perhaps it will not fire?”
“But your Protectors cast you out,” Daniel said. “So wouldn't there be some kind of threat to keep you from returning?”
Burbeg nodded slowly, “There might be. I do not think that our ancient Protectors would fire without warning.”
Daniel's gaze went back to the two scientists, Rory chewed on his lip for a minute, “Okay, supposing it gives us a warning, we should be able to back off.”
“If not,” Feliks said, “Given the scale of the firing lens and the visible heat dissipation measures, I calculate that the power output for one of those turrets would blast through our defense screens with no real effort. We wouldn't even realize we were dead.”
“Why would you even say something like that?!” Rory demanded. “That's supposed to be reassuring?”
“It would be painless. I think it is a way that I would like to perish. I find the thought of a painless death very reassuring,” Feliks said with a calm voice.
“Enough,” Daniel said. He nodded at Lieutenant Forsberg. “Take us in... slowly. Have a reverse and evasion course ready.”
The Constellation and the Goronto advanced on the Gateway. As they approached, Daniel couldn't help but notice that Chuni seemed riveted to the screen.
***
Alannis felt tense as she sat, waiting. The alien construct, if it gave any kind of warning, could transmit on any frequency. Her department was alert, the techs and petty officers glued to their displays, searching for anything.
“I'm detecting systems coming online,” Lieutenant Cassat said from sensors. “No directed emissions yet.”
Alannis felt sweat bead her forehead. The ongoing song, or whatever it was, had changed pitch. She shuddered at the new edge in it, it felt somehow malevolent.
“Energy pulse!” someone shouted.
A heartbeat later, the bridge filled with light. For a fraction of a second, Alannis could see the organs and bones of everyone aboard the bridge. Time seemed to slow and Alannis's gaze went to Chuni. The Ghornath female reached into her harness and pulled something out. The light pulsed especially bright around her and it seemed that she held a ring with a large, glowing stone.
There was a final flare of light and as Alannis blinked her dazzled eyes, she realized that the alarms had gone quiet.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Cassat said, his voice still slightly shaken, “the base has gone quiescent. We're no longer being scanned.”
Alannis looked at the Captain. He too looked a little shaken, but he quickly adopted a professional expression, “Very good, Chuni. Lieutenant Forsberg, continue forward. Ensign Giovanni, any change in communications?”
“No, sir,” Alannis replied, looking at her display. The oddly musical language continued, without the underlying threat that had signaled their detection. In fact, she thought, if anything, it almost sounds welcoming.
“Sir, we're seeing an energy spike at the gateway,” Lieutenant Cassat said.
Alannis's eyes went wide as she felt the shift in her mind. What's happening to me? She wondered. Yet she pushed that thought aside as her gaze went to the sensor repeater. A massive energy surge pulsed at the Gateway... and then, in a display that seemed to twist reality, the Gateway opened.
A twisting, nebulous vortex appeared, gray-streaked with crackling energy around the edges. “What is that,” Alannis said in shock.
“My question exactly,” Captain Beeson said dryly. “A wormhole, perhaps?”
“Nonsense!” Rory shouted through the intercom. “Wormholes are intrinsically unstable. There is no way this is a wormhole!”
“It might possibly be some kind of bridge through shadow space,” Feliks said. “In which case it would provide near instantaneous travel from one location to another.”
“Isn't that what a wormhole is?” Captain Beeson asked.
“No!” Rory said, “A wormhole folds space from one point to another, there is nothing in-between. This... whatever it is, connects two locations through shadow space. With a wormhole you're not really leaving normal space. Theoretically possible, but...”
Captain Beeson interrupted, “Chuni, this gateway, it takes us where we need to go?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “It is the only way.” Alannis didn't need to ask how Chuni knew that. She was the last of the Ghornath's Nogathi. She'd probably been trained on this stuff since she was a child. Assuming this isn't genetic knowledge, programmed into her ancestors by these Protectors of theirs, Alannis thought.
“Strike Leader Burbeg, it seems we've opened the way forward,” Captain Beeson said. “Shall we proceed?”
“Yes and we will follow,” Burbeg said.
***
The yawning vortex drew closer until it filled their forward screens. “Sensors, I want full scans on everything as we do this,” Daniel Beeson said. He really hoped that this thing wasn't going to dump them into a black hole or the heart of a star or something like that.
As the Constellation approached, Daniel could feel the hairs on his forearms start to rise. This wasn't something that should exist, so far as he knew. It was a tear between shadow space and normal space.
“All systems nominal, Captain,” Commander Bowder said, “Should we proceed?” There was an edge of awe in the normally cynical and worldly officer. It seemed that the sight even had an effect on his XO.
“Rory, Feliks, any idea what to expect?” Daniel asked.
“How should we know that?!” Rory demanded. “This shadow space portal might require some kind of special drive or shielding. Without that it might rip us into our constituent atoms and scatter us across shadow space!”
“Most likely,” Feliks said after a moment, “it would be designed relatively simple so that the Ghornath could use it, I would think. If that is the case, I would say we would experience a slight moment in transit and then arrive at the other end.” He added after a moment, “assuming of course there is no added security features that might destroy us for not being Ghornath, in which case Rory would be correct. If that is the case, I would have to assume the experience would be fairly instantaneous and relatively painless.”
“Again with the lack of pain!” Rory all-but-shouted. “Captain Beeson, I would strongly advise against moving through ourselves. Give me some time, I can adjust one of our sensor probes...”
“Strike Leader Burbeg,” Daniel asked, “do your people's legends speak of any kind of defenses within the portal?” Time was not on their sides, Daniel knew. He didn't know if they had the days or even weeks for Rory to send a probe.
“No, friend,” Burbeg replied. “In fact, the ancient war fleets guarded the far side of the portal, as we were instructed that any who gained access might come through.”
“So,” Daniel nodded, “we should be fine.” He looked over at Lieutenant Forsberg. “Take us in.”
The vessel crossed the last bit of distance. At first, nothing seemed to happen as the bow of the ship entered the Gateway. Yet as the ship moved deeper within, everything seemed to slow. Daniel tried to blink, tried to move, but it felt like he was suspended in molasses.
And then the universe seemed to freeze around him. For a moment that seemed to last an eternity, Daniel could see everything on the bridge with unnatural clarity, could pick out individual dust motes that floated through holographic displays.
And then like glass breaking, that stillness ended and everything raced to catch up. “We've emerged from the Gateway, Captain,” Commander Bowder said.
“Heavy debris detected,” Lieutenant Cassat said. “Sir, there's objects ranging from micrometeorites to several hundred meters across along all trajectories.”
“Defense screens to full, engage any of it on a dangerous trajectory,” Daniel barked. A moment later he heard the point defense pulse cannons engage.
“What's going on?” Daniel asked.
“It seems the other side of the Gateway lies in the midst of a dense debris cloud,” Lieutenant Cassat said. “The station here is defended somehow, but it'll take me some time to plot a clear route.”
“Navigation?” Daniel asked.
“Once he's got the route, sir, we'll get you a course,” Lieutenant Forsberg said quickly.
“This debris, it is the remains of the Argolim, that is, the Great Fleet of the Nogathi,” Chuni said.
“Burbeg?” Daniel asked.
“She is right,” Burbeg's said, his voice subdued.
As the sensor data continued to populate, Daniel shook his head, “That must be hundreds... no, thousands of ships.” The debris went out for tens of thousands of kilometers. Much of it had contracted into clusters and he could see that the debris would eventually form asteroids or possibly even planetoids as the gas and heavier pieces condensed.
“The legends say that the Nogathi led a fleet of ten thousand ships with over ten million crew to go forth and do battle, “Burbeg said. “The Protectors destroyed every one of those ships and it took almost a generation to gather the dead.”
Daniel couldn't suppress a shiver at that. These Protectors of the Ghornath sounded more and more sinister the more he learned about them. They had seemingly destroyed the Ghornath fleet in order to hide their existence from some enemy. They did it effortlessly, he thought, ten thousand vessels at once, with no mention of any losses themselves.
What was it that they feared so much?
***
The enemy has arrived, Sidewinder sent to his ships even as he ordered his crew to ready themselves. He felt a calm certainty of death as he saw the two enemy ships. The lead one was human construction, the other, larger one constructed by the slave-race.
His small scout force could not face both ships in direct battle. The best he could hope for was to weaken them for the strike force to exterminate.
On the other hand, Sidewinder thought, the slave race is the real threat, if they are gone then the humans cannot access the worlds... Sidewinder shuddered a bit as he considered that. It was hard to conceive, for so long the humans had been considered the primary threat. Sidewinder knew that he was limited in both capabilities and intelligence. His role was to scout and watch and --only on occasion-- to fight.
Autonomous thinking was difficult, especially when it went against his prime directives. Yet Minder's orders had authorized him to delay the enemy as he saw fit...
All ships, target priority is the slave-race vessel, he ordered. Move into attack position in the debris field.
***
“Contact!” Lieutenant Cassat snapped, “Sir, we have three powered objects moving into attack position. Scratch that seven... nine, fifteen ships, sir!”
“Distance and direction?” Daniel asked as he brought up his display.
“Ten of the vessels are located above us, sir,” Lieutenant Cassat said. “The other five are on a flanking course. They're centered on Goronto's position.”
“They're going after you, Strike Leader,” Daniel said.
“Indeed,” Burbeg said. “They seem to have similar emissions to our earlier foes. It seems they are here, though thankfully not in force.”
Daniel frowned as he watched the ships draw closer. Burbeg's sensor data had suggested the ships carried short range but powerful energy weapons. They didn't have much more information than that due to the brief engagement periods from both battles and the damage that Burbeg's ship had taken.
“The debris favors them on drawing close,” Daniel said. “Our missile systems can't engage through this mess.” It was too likely that they'd hit a chunk of debris and if that happened too soon after launch, the warhead might well detonate in close proximity to the Constellation.
What they could see of the ships so far was that they were small, yet they had extremely high energy signatures. They also moved faster than Daniel had hoped, so they'd clearly mapped the debris cloud already.
Both ships could engage them, but it would be a fight that favored the smaller ships, especially if they focused their efforts on the Goronto. “Strike Leader... I hate to ask, but would you be willing to withdraw?”
“I had been about to suggest just that,” Burbeg said. “I've dropped acceleration somewhat and I can't help but notice the ships have remained focused on me. If that holds true, I might lure most of them away or at least buy you time to get clear of the debris so that you can engage with your weapons to maximum effect.”
“Sir,” Commander Bowder said in a low voice, “what happens if they don't follow him? We'll be all by ourselves facing fifteen ships.”
Daniel gave him a nod, but as he considered it, he didn't see a better option. “We don't have much choice,” he replied. The enemy ships continued to close. If they didn't make their decsion soon, the enemy would have their optimal engagement. Daniel really didn't like not knowing how dangerous the ships were at close range.
“What point is there to continue onwards without him?” Commander Bowder said. “Without a Ghornath to speak for us or to activate whatever technology we find, we'll be unable to make any significant difference.”
That was something that Daniel couldn't argue with. “Strike Leader, I'm afraid my XO has brought up a good point. Without you, we've little purpose to continue.”
Burbeg didn't respond for a long moment. “Captain Daniel,” he said finally, “I would be inclined to agree with you, but for one thing. Fleet Consul Maygar assigned Leader Chuni to my vessel, and he informed me that above all I was to listen to her and to pass along any information she relayed. He also told me that she would be a key to our past if all else failed.”
Daniel's gaze went to where the Ghornath female stood. She seemed inordinately calm given the situation. “Very well, so you think she's the key. We'll do our best to finish this journey for you.” Daniel brought up the evasive courses plotted by navigation and chose one that gave them the best range advantage. It would be a longer pursuit, but they would emerge from the debris field with greater standoff to use their weapon systems to their best advantage.
“Thank you,” Burbeg said. “I will seek to rejoin you once I have dispatched these threats. Go with honor.” Burbeg cut the communication link.
“Engage Evasive Pattern Charlie,” Daniel said. The Constellation leapt from a relative crawl to near full speed. He saw Burbeg's ship reverse course and head back towards the Gateway. Daniel grinned as the enemy craft hesitated for a long moment. Got you, bastards.
***
We have been detected, Sidewinder sent to his ship commanders.
He felt shock as he saw the two ships split up. He would not have expected the slave-race to so easily abandon their allies. Regardless, the main target retreated to the Gateway... and his orders were clear.
Main group, pursue the primary target, Scouts Three, Two, and Six prevent the human ship from supporting the slave-race vessel, he sent. His ship leapt in pursuit of the slave-race vessel. Those who had successfully transited the portal were not to be allowed to live. They, like all those who had come before, would be killed.
His attention went back to the human ship and his three scout vessels detached to pursue it. The vessel was no threat, he knew. The humans would not be able to get past the defenses that awaited them. Without their allies, they would soon be trapped here, unable to escape. They would either die of starvation or die trying to escape the barrier.
Still, Sidewinder could not help a thread of worry as the human ship slipped away.
Drawing to engagement range, one of his ship commanders sent him.
Sidewinder's focus returned to the slave-race vessel. It was big and fast and he knew this fight would likely take all of his focus. Engage and destroy them, he sent, even as he prepared the weapons on his own craft.
***
The Constellation broke free of the debris field and her drives went to maximum acceleration.
Behind her, Daniel's sensors showed the three pursuing craft were maintaining the distance, even as they maneuvered to avoid debris. The ships weren't in range of his exotic particle cannons and he still couldn't engage them through the debris with missiles. “Tactical, what have we got?”
“Sir,” Ensign Perkins said, “All three vessels are corvette-sized. Energy signatures suggest they have gravitic-fusion powerplants, very high output and low margins for shielding.
Lieutenant Wohlberg spoke up, “Captain, looking at the data, if they have human crews... well, they won't last long with that sort of radiation, not without extensive medical support.”
“Noted,” Daniel nodded, “Weapons?”
“We haven't seen them fire, yet, sir,” Forrest said. “But the Ghornath sensor data indicated between three and five thousand kilometer engagement ranges. Assuming that's optimal, we're projecting a maximum effective range of nine thousand kilometers.”
That was about the normal range for small vessels like that, though the Ghornath had commented on the high power of the enemy energy weapons. It gave him considerably more range at twenty thousand kilometers for the EPCs. But we don't know how well-defended those vessels are, he thought.
“We'll focus fire on individual vessels,” Daniel said. “And I want a missile salvo, Mark V's, to hit their lead vessel as they come out of the debris.”
“Sir?” Forrest asked. Daniel didn't blame him for his confusion. The Mark V's hundred megaton warhead would be overkill against something the size of a corvette. But they didn't know the capabilities of the enemy ships... and this engagement was as good a chance as he'd get to estimate their power and capabilities.
“Lead vessel, single salvo,” Daniel said. “We need to see how they handle missiles.” Forrest nodded in reply, but his worried expression suggested he worried about their missile reserves. The big Mark V’s and the Moljnirs both used a lot of magazine capacity. A single salvo would represent ten percent of their magazine. While they had stock and key components to manufacture replacement missiles, they didn't have replacement warheads, which meant they would have to manufacture fusion warheads, with significantly less powerful warheads.
Maybe that won't matter, he thought. Yet the very fact that there were enemy ships here now suggested that the Constellation would need every advantage to fight them in the near future.
“Enemy clearing the debris in five seconds,” Lieutenant Cassat said.
“Launch,” Daniel said. The standard Mark V’s streaked out at relatively short range of forty thousand kilometers. Even at relatively close range, the big missiles took almost a minute and a half to close the distance, the launch tubes having slowed the missiles relative velocity to zero and giving them a bit of relative velocity towards the enemy.
The enemy used that time to build up speed and without the need to dodge debris, they showed a raw acceleration that made Daniel grimace. In a straight-line acceleration they traveled faster than some of the United Colony's newest fighter designs. Nearly as fast of acceleration as the Mark V shipkiller missiles, in fact.
Even with their lead, the enemy ships would close the distance faster than Daniel liked. At least their race through the debris had separated them so they shouldn't be able to support each other against his salvo.
“Has the enemy begun jamming yet?” Daniel asked.
“Negative, sir,” Lieutenant Cassat said.
“Interesting,” Daniel muttered. He looked at Ensign Giovanni, “Alannis, go ahead and open a channel to them. It doesn't hurt to see if they'll talk to us.”
When she gave him a nod, he spoke into his display, “Unidentified ships, this is the UCS Constellation. We have detected hostile intent on your part and fired warning shots. Please respond.”
He waited a long moment before she finally shook her head, “No response, sir.”
Hardly surprising, he thought, even as he watched the missiles home in the last bit of distance.
At that point, the missiles flew so fast that the human eye couldn't make sense of what happened. At one instant the missiles were closing the distance and in the next they were gone. Pinpricks of light displayed where the four missiles had died. Three of them had been intercepted by fire from the lead corvette. The fourth, it seemed, had detonated in close proximity to the enemy corvette. While the detonation didn't tell him much about how tough the enemy vessel had been, it did tell him that a hundred megaton explosion of antimatter and matter meeting was sufficient to destroy one.
At that rate, he thought, I'll expend my entire magazine of Mark V’s to kill three of them.
“How's their point defense?” Daniel asked even as he watched the other two ships close with no hesitation. Clearly they didn't mind the loss of one vessel.
“Very nasty, sir,” Forrest said. “I was able to spoof their fire by hiding one missile behind another and masking the launch, but I don't think they'll fall for that again. They were three for three on the ones they saw. I detected twelve point defense batteries, which engaged at eight thousand kilometers.”
Daniel nodded. The enemy hadn't known how many missiles they could launch, but they would know now. They could launch their point defense missiles, but since they didn't know what missile capabilities they had, if any, Daniel didn't want to use those unless he had no other choice, especially not on the off chance that they could flood the enemy's point defense.
I hate fighting unknowns, Daniel thought, too much guessing, not enough facts. Fighting the Chxor had been simple. The Chxor never deviated from the pattern, especially not in combat.
Fighting the Balor had been far worse than this, they'd been outclassed in everything besides weight of ships and fire. At least they'd known they were outclassed. These people, whoever they were, were a mystery.
“Engagement range in one minute,” Lieutenant Cassat said.
“Focus fire,” Forrest said, “we still don't know how tough these guys are and just because they haven't used jamming, it doesn't mean they aren't keeping that in reserve.” He highlighted a target, “Primary target is Gamma and secondary target is Beta.”
The enemy ships drew closer and then Forrest opened up with the EPCs. Unlike the Warshrike, the firing sequence didn't have the hum that had almost become familiar. I miss the old girl, he thought.
Three of the four shots seemed to hit the lead corvette, yet there was no sign of debris or outgassing. “Status of target?” Daniel asked.
“Negative impact,” Lieutenant Cassat replied. “We're seeing some significant energy emissions...”
“A shield,” Rory said excitedly. “They've managed to use human tech to produce a shield like the Balor or some of the precursor aliens.
Rory spoke so quickly that he stumbled over the words, “You have to, I insist, capture one of those ships. The things we could learn...”
“I doubt that would be easy,” Daniel said. ”How effective are these shields of theirs?”
“Judging by the power output,” Rory said, “and the energy field shifts, they're about forty percent as effective as equivalent Balor ships would be.”
Daniel spoke calmly, even as he watched Forrest fire again, again to no apparent effect despite two definite hits. ”How many times do we need to hit them to knock out their shields?”
“Seven or eight solid hits,” Rory said. ”Give or take a standard factor of
“Seven or eight hits,” Daniel nodded at Forrest, “Hit them again.” Good thing we focused fire, he thought. Especially since the two ships had begun to evade. While their straight line acceleration was remarkable, neither ship seemed as maneuverable as he would have expected. He'd have to think about what that implied as far as fighting them, but he'd imagine it put them at a disadvantage against lighter vessels who could out-maneuver them.
The third round of EPC shots were dead on against the enemy's shields. The enemy corvette simply vanished, replaced by a pinprick of light to show that the fusion generator had lost containment.
“Captain, I said you need to capture...”
The other ship, however, had drawn within range. ”Enemy ship firing!” Lieutenant Cassat said from sensors.
It fired its main gun at the same time as Forrest engaged it. The entire ship lurched and damage alarms began to wail.
“Hit to starboard,” Commander Bowder said after a moment, “Damage to engine pods one and three, rear engineering took a hit, our rear defense screen is down...”
“Kill that ship, now!” Daniel barked.
Forrest opened up with the main weapons and the enemy corvette vanished in a ball of fire.
“Status of the other vessels?” Daniel asked.
“It appears that they followed Strike Leader Burbeg through the Gateway,” Lieutenant Cassat said after a moment. ”We're clear on enemy contacts.”
Daniel scanned over the updated damage report and he blanched a bit as he saw what one hit had done. ”What did they hit us with?”
“Some kind of pulsed energy weapon, sir,” Commander Bowder said.
“It's very interesting,” Feliks said. ”Did you notice the gamma output when they fired?”
“Yes, fascinating, really,” Rory replied, “They fit an extremely powerful weapon aboard such a tiny ship. I mean, we could learn a great deal from these people... assuming they stop trying to kill us long enough for me to study their tech. I'm amazed at what they've managed to do with human ship components.”
Daniel didn't bother to restrain his sigh. ”Department heads, to the conference room in one hour. All hands, stand down from battle stations.”
***
Chapter XVII
The Wastes of Argolim
The Sacred Stars
December 30, 2407
Against his better judgement, Daniel had allowed Rory and Feliks to sit in on his post-battle review.
“...we've repaired the damage to drive pod three, but pod one will require substantial repairs, sir.” Lieutenant Commander Voronkov said. ”I'd say a full rebuild is necessary, probably back at Faraday or Nova Roma shipyard.”
Daniel grimaced at that, though it wasn't much of a surprise. The damage the small enemy vessel had done was out of proportion to the craft's size. With the loss of a quarter of their engines, the Constellation effectively lost thirty percent of its maximum acceleration due to the need to cut back on thrust on the other three engine pods in order to balance the vessel better. On a fusion-plant ship, they could have transferred fuel around to act as ballast, but the Constellation had no fuel tanks. And we're also rather low on supplies, he thought, so moving those around won't help much.
“The defense screens are back online, the hit cut a power junction which we've replaced,” Lieutenant Commander Voronkov continued. ”So other than engines, we're back to full fighting capacity.”
“How are our wounded, Lieutenant Wohlberg?”
“Recovering as best as they can,” she replied. “Tech Specialist Gurney will be confined to his bed for the next few months. The hit he took to his spine will require extensive treatment to repair the nerve damage and then there will be physical therapy... it'll be some time until he's on his feet again.” She frowned, “Petty Officer Peck and Ensign Medica will require limb regrowth or possibly replacement. I'd like your permission to put them into temporary cold sleep until we get back home.”
Daniel frowned at that. He'd already given permission for two of their burn victims to be put “on ice” for the trip home. The Constellation had ten cryogenic capsules for storing injured and sick crew who needed a full medical suite for support. While putting crew down for that would make their transition to healing much easier, what the Constellation didn't have was the capabilities to safely bring crew out of cryogenic sleep. Putting Petty Officer Peck and Ensign Medica in would effectively use up those two slots, which meant if they had more serious injuries later on, he might have crew who died because they couldn't survive without more serious medical attention.
“Hold off on that for now,” Daniel said. He held up a hand as she started to protest, “I know, doctor, that neither of them are functional. However, my concern is that we've not yet faced a sizable enemy force. If we do, we may take serious casualties and I'd like to keep as many cold sleep berths open.”
She gave a reluctant nod and Daniel turned his attention to Rory and Feliks, “Now then, we know how we're doing... what about the enemy?”
“We have only just begun to examine data,” Feliks hedged. ”It could take days, even weeks to draw up solid conclusions.”
“What can you tell me now?” Daniel asked.
“Well, it's obvious that they calibrated their shields to better counter the exotic particle emissions of Ghornath-based technology,” Rory waved a hand, as if that was something plain to see. “Therefore they either knew we were similarly armed or they expected to fight only the Ghornath.”
“So either they know more about us than we'd like or they didn't realize we'd be here,” Daniel nodded, “Which doesn't tell us much. What else?”
“The energy weapon is a surprisingly powerful energy projector,” Feliks said. “From what we can tell, they project high intensity focused gamma radiation, probably through use of multiple heavy-duty capacitors and gravitational lensing...”
“How do we defend against it?” Daniel asked. “They punched right through our defense screen.”
Rory and Feliks looked at each other, “I don't really see a defense,” Rory said after a moment, running a hand through his sparse hair. “This is an extremely powerful weapon, like what you'd expect to see on a battlecruiser or battleship, even. The power output is simply enormous.”
“The defense screen,” Feliks said, “it is a magnetically contained plasma, which can deflect or defuse a certain gradient of projectile an energy weapons...”
“I know what a defense screen is,” Daniel said dryly.
“Right, sure you do,” Rory waved a hand. “Normal attacks, you see a scattering effect for energy weapons, until they punch through. What that does is decrease the overall power that reaches the armor and hull. Most times that's fifty to seventy percent decrease in overall power.”
“With this gamma pulse weapon,” Feliks said, “it is projecting energy at such a narrow wavelength that the vast majority of it completely bypasses the ionized plasma. In fact, the magnetic fields of the defense screens themselves are the only thing that provides any real protection and even that is relatively minimal.”
“Basically,” Rory said, “It's like trying to stop a high speed bullet with a pillow. We're talking about wavelengths in single digit picometers.” He shook his head, “They've got to be powering this thing off of directional fission and given the limited shielding on their power plant...”
“Their crews are either extremely resistant to genetic radiation damage or they are not concerned with long-term survival.” Lieutenant Wohlberg said.
“So,” Daniel said, “There's no effective defense. They opened fire at nine thousand kilometers, obviously we're better with some kind of standoff.” Yet the enemy had knocked down three of their four missiles. “What's the maximum effective range on this weapon of theirs?”
“I'd estimate no more than twelve thousand kilometers,” Rory said. “And that's not because of the weapon itself. I think if it was properly mounted you could get accuracy out to thirty thousand kilometers easily, but...”
Feliks nodded, “Yes, good point, they're using human technology that is commonly available. Even with custom designed mountings, they'd need a much larger vessel to gain more range. A cruiser or battlecruiser at least.”
Thirty thousand kilometers, he thought and he saw the faces of his officers blanch at the thought. This weapon system was absolutely devastating as it was. With the range extended that far and with multiple weapons per vessel, it would be a nightmare to face in any kinds of numbers. ”How many of these could they have?” Daniel asked.
“The weapon itself?” Rory asked. He pursed his lips, “They'd need a plutonium core for each weapon, substantial capacitors to trigger the fission reaction and extensive gravitic tech to lens the gamma rays...”
“A dozen, you think?” Feliks asked.
“No, that would be too much...” Rory shook his head. ”You have to remember they've built these in secret, hiding their production somehow...”
“Eight, then,” Feliks said with a nod.
“Right, eight,” Rory nodded at Daniel.
“Eight total?” Daniel asked. ”We saw fifteen of those ships!”
“No, no, no...” Rory waved his hands, “They could build eight of those ships in a month. Assuming they have full access to a decent shipyard, of course.”
“Eight a month?” Forrest asked incredulously. ”One of those ships got off one shot and badly damaged us. The Goronto will be facing twelve of those things...”
“Assuming they have had time to ramp up production and they've been in production since the fall of Ghornath Prime,” Feliks said, “Taking into account limits of production, labor and materials shortages, and that sort of thing, they could easily have two thousand or more of these vessels.”
Daniel rubbed a hand over his face. ”Two thousand, you're certain?”
“The thing is, none of these components would be difficult to individually procure. The knowledge of how they would go together, the actual assembly, that's the difficult part. Whoever these people are, they clearly have a much greater understanding of the technical processes. Now, this is all a shot in the dark with some very big assumptions...”
“You said the fall of Ghornath Prime,” Chuni asked, “why did you pick that date?”
“Oh, that?” Rory asked, “Isn't it obvious?”
I really need to have a talk with these two about their use of “obvious” and “trivial”, Daniel thought to himself.
“The Akris system is the key,” Feliks said. “The primary star was made to go supernova and collapse into a black hole to act as a blocking move, to prevent any vessels from transiting the system for as long as possible.”
“But they couldn't count on it stopping your people forever,” Rory nodded. ”So they would have started building a fleet then. Of course, that's assuming that your people are the primary threat to these people. Otherwise they might have tens of thousands of vessels.” Daniel restrained a wince at that thought. “Then they could have been building ships since the fall of Amalgamated Worlds, in which case...”
“Easily tens of thousands of such vessels,” Feliks said cheerfully. “In fact, they could hide some of their actions behind the efforts of the Shadow Lords or the Balor, so long as they left minimal evidence to indicate that others were the perpetrators of such attacks.”
“But if that was the case,” Forrest protested, “they wouldn't have just light ships like this, right? They'd build larger ships?”
“More than likely,” Rory nodded. “You can probably scale down the overall numbers by fifty percent, assuming they build bigger vessels. Of course, those ships would be markedly more capable, especially as their shield projectors and weapon mounts grow bigger.”
Daniel spoke up, “We've gone a bit far off track. Let's examine what we can do against the enemies we've faced, not some potential fleet that may not exist.” He didn't want his officers becoming too shell-shocked by the possibilities. These mysterious enemies were far more formidable than the Chxor and more of an immediate threat than the Balor. “What about our offense. You said they calibrated their shielding systems to counter the exotic particle technology of the Ghornath. Is there any way we can modify our projectors to counter that?”
“Possibly,” Rory said with a glance at Feliks. ”That's going to take a lot of thought, though. The hardware has been configured extensively for the particular 'brand' of particles your generators produce. If we modify them too much, we might have some severe results to the arrays, possibly damaging or destroying them.”
“Their anti-missile systems, what about those?” Forrest asked.
“Well,” Rory waggled a hand. “What it looks like is that it's an alternate fire mode for their main weapon. I'd guess they alter the containment field to project through a dozen or so emitters.”
“Each beam is less powerful,” Feliks said, “but the energy release is identical. They probably use this method for engaging smaller vessels rather than capital ships.”
“So... they couldn't fire both missile interception and their main weapon at the same time?” Ensign Giovanni asked. Daniel gave her a nod as he considered the importance of that question himself.
“Well, no,” Rory said. “And both firing methods would be relatively slow, though no longer to switch from one to the other, I'd guess.”
“That might be useful,” Daniel said with another nod. “We'll run some simulations to see how this can play out, but we might be able to time a missile salvo to coincide with them firing their main weapon.”
“Assuming we survive multiple hits from their main weapon,” Commander Bowder said.
“Anything else in the system?” Daniel asked without acknowledging the comment. Now that they knew more about the enemy's capabilities, they could and would find ways to counter them.
“Not much, sir,” Lieutenant Cassat said. “From what Leader Chuni said, the system's main purpose was military. They'd already mined out all significant mineral resources leaving just carbon-silicate asteroids. There's signs of extensive mining and weapons testing on several of the rocky planets as well.
“The Protectors destroyed our stations here when they destroyed the Argolim,” Chuni said.
Daniel nodded, “Navigation, what have you got as far as moving on to the next system?”
“What we can tell about shadow space, short of jumping, is that we're sort of at a plateau,” Lieutenant Forsberg said. “As best as I can tell, the systems in this pocket are easy to get to, short distance, maybe only a few hours. We'll still have to make short jumps to feel things out, but I think travel between this handful of systems will be easy, sir. I've plotted a small jump that should take us to the next one.”
Daniel gave a nod, “Well, since we won't find anything here and we already know there are enemies in the area, it's best to move with speed. Input the course and we'll move out, Lieutenant.”
***
“Ma'am, any news?” Gunnery Sergeant Tam asked as Alannis came through the hatch into the Marine barracks.
“We fought some of the unknown attackers,” Alannis replied, “other than that, we don't know anything else, there's no wreckage to investigate.”
“Roger, ma'am,” he said with a nod. “No real change down here, either. We're going to do some training in the empty supply areas.” He shrugged, “Honestly, I think we're hitting the upper limit of what we can accomplish by training. We've been hit so many times off-guard that most of our Marines are ready for a fight. If they don't find one soon, they'll go looking for one.”
Alannis grimaced at that. Not that she could blame them. She and Lieutenant Commander Douglass had been attacked. Then their platoon commander had been killed by one of the ship's officers gone mad. They had to feel cooped up and uneasy anyway, given their relative isolation. “Well, we'll try to give them something to do,” Alannis said. “This jump will only last six hours. After that, we'll be at the Forge of Angrahad. Chuni says it used to be the main fleet base for the old Ghornath Empire. If nothing else, I'm sure we'll want to send a team to investigate.”
“Any idea what we'll find, ma'am?” Gunny Tam asked.
“None at all,” Alannis said. “We didn't expect to find any enemy ships back at the Wastes of Argolim. We might find wreckage or remains of the shipyards and bases. We might even find something intact, we just don't know yet.”
“Roger, ma'am,” Gunny Tam smiled. “Threat unknown, enemies unknown, situation unclear. Sounds like another day in the United Colonies Marines, ma'am.”
“Oh,” Alannis frowned, “one other thing, if we do send out a team, it'll probably include escort duty for our two scientists, Rory and Feliks.”
Gunny Tam's face went flat. “Where are you going with this ma'am?”
“I'll need you to assign a pair of Marines to watch over them. They're invaluable, but they can also be...”
“Pains in the ass,” Gunny Tam nodded. “I've dealt with both of them, during the assault on the alien base on Halcyon, ma'am.” His face went a bit pained, “I actually saw a Marine NCO step in front of a plasma round because of them.”
“Oh,” Alannis said, “I'm sorry.”
Gunny Tam nodded, “Good friend of mine, Gunnery Sergeant Victor Ramirez. He was in powered armor and he survived, but it took him months of recovery.”
“I'm impressed with his dedication,” Alannis said. “Stepping in front of a round like that to save them...”
“Oh, no, ma'am,” Gunny Tam shook his head. “He told me later that he did it just to get out of the baby-sitting detail, he couldn't take any more of either of them.” He grimaced then, “Bastard stuck me with both of them. I still owe him for that.”
***
Ensign Elvis Medica sat back on his bed and enjoyed the quiet.
The hit to Engineering had sent a jagged meter-long shard of metal spinning through his legs just above the knees. The instant of shock and pain had faded a bit after the ship's medics administered painkillers and now he had a distant, floating feeling. After the initial day or so, he'd come to terms with what had happened and he'd actually found he didn't mind the free time. He had just pulled up a book from the ship's library, some kind of fantasy novel, with ruthless characters who murdered one another with abandon. Not his normal thing, but it felt good to read something not related to work, for once.
He missed his legs, really he did, but the Fleet doctors were very good. He knew that once he got back to a Fleet Hospital, they'd get them regrown in a few months. It would be painful and exhausting, but in the meantime, he had a nice sample of drugs and most importantly, he had peace and quiet.
And I don't have to deal with Rory or Feliks for the rest of the trip, he thought with a relaxed smile.
“Ah, there you are!” Rory said as he and Feliks came through the door.
Oh, please no, Ensign Medica thought to himself.
“So, we heard you were trapped in bed here,” Feliks said. “Terrible what happened to your legs. I am told that they will need to regrow them, yes?” As he nodded in reply, Feliks continued, “Well, despite the risks of secondary infection, cancerous regrowth, or the exceedingly rare but still statistical possibility that the regrowth treatment will cause a lethal allergic reaciton.”
“I'm sure you'll be fine,” Rory said waving a hand. “But since you're otherwise unoccupied we have some things for you to dig into.”
“I'm on light duty,” Ensign Medica said quickly.
“Well, this is all pretty light. We just need you to do some basic partical analysis, back-checking some of the shielding data from the enemy ships we encountered against our database to see about weapons calibrations.” Rory said. “Something even you can do. It’ll be impossible to alter the beam projectors without a full analysis of the data. Don't worry, we'll come by three times a day to check your progress and give you some company.”
“Yes, we wouldn't want you to think we don't appreciate you,” Feliks said absently as he tapped at his datapad. “There, I've transferred the files. It's very large, so I took the liberty of overwriting some of your excess files, some entertainment files from the ship's library, that sort of thing.”
So much for finishing my book, Ensign Medica thought as he pushed the button that should have given him more medication. Perhaps if he was drugged out of his mind he wouldn't need to deal with them...
“Oh, and Lieutenant Wohlberg said we could cut back on your painkillers since we need you able to focus,” Rory said as he casually finished closing a valve. “This one, right?”
Ensign Medica told himself that whimpering was not something that an officer of the United Colonies Fleet should do. Yet any kind of stoic resolution faded in the realization that not only had his disfiguring accident trapped him where he couldn't escape, but that he'd be stuck doing only what Rory and Feliks had for him.
“Well, I can see we've already cheered you up,” Rory said, clapping him on the shoulder. “No need to go all misty-eyed. We'll leave you to your work!”
Please, he thought to himself, please let this be a nightmare.
***
“Well, that's unexpected,” Captain Beeson said as the Constellation finished its initial survey of the Forge of Angrahad.
That's a bit of an understatement, Alannis thought to herself. They had expected to find ruins or perhaps the remains of some stations around the planet. Chuni's knowledge of what had been here was vague, a description more about the origin of fleets and weapons, but rather sparse on detail.
Alannis had picked up a variety of signals and a glance at the main sensor display showed high resolution images of massive structures in orbit around the inhabitable planet.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Cassat said, “I'm seeing at least fifteen independent stations in geostationary orbit over the planet, in addition to the orbital rings. All of this is operational although I'm only seeing very limited traffic in the system.”
“What kinds of ships?” Captain Beeson asked. “And if they are active, why haven't we seen any response to our arrival?”
“They look like mining and fueling vessels,” Lieutenant Cassat brought up the image of one on the main screen. “Ensign Giovanni has a theory about those.”
Alannis felt nervous as the other officers looked at her. “I think they're drone ships, sir.” She brought up a sample signal, “We haven't decoded the transmissions, yet, but these vessels are all doing very simple tasks. If they're drone vessels, then the stations would send retrieval commands after receiving notice that the ships are full. We're also seeing some limited transmissions as vessels approach the defensive perimeter, probably a challenge and response.” She waited a moment and then brought up the display that showed the interaction between ships and stations. “There's no additional traffic beyond that.”
“Nothing?” Captain Beeson asked in surprise.
“Nothing, sir,” Alannis nodded. In this case, the lack of any additional signals was a sign that the system was otherwise unoccupied. High technology societies sent transmissions almost constantly. Entertainment signals, financial information, even simple telemetry and identification codes.
“Did your people make such extensive use of drones?” Captain Beeson asked of Chuni.
“I... I don't know,” she said after a long moment. “There was, occasionally mention of... well, what you might call servitors. But I'm not certain if these are somehow a part of that or if they're... something else.”
“The fact that we haven't been challenged suggests that Ensign Giovanni's theory is right. Automated systems might not be set up to pay attention to us unless we appear to be a threat.” The Captain stared at the screen for a long moment, “Clearly the stations are in good shape,” Captain Beeson said. They had approached to just outside three hundred thousand kilometers of the nearest station. “Are those weapon's turrets there?”
“That's our best guess, sir,” Forrest said. “Big weapon emplacements, larger than anything outside of some of the Dreyfus Fleet ships. We've also detected a variety of hatches that might be for launching fighters, missiles, or other drones.”
“Have we sent any kind of transmission?” Captain Beeson asked. “Leader Chuni, do you have any kind of, I don't know, access code?”
Alannis saw her friend hesitate. “I... I may know a way, but that would require some way to physically access a station, possibly a command terminal,” Chuni said after a moment.
“I don't want to get that close to those weapons emplacements without knowing if it'll work,” Captain Beeson said. Alannis saw the XO nod in agreement. “Ensign,” he said after a moment's thought, “presumably, these things have some kind of command signal, do you think you could hack it?”
Alannis considered that for a long moment, “I mean, possibly, Captain, but that would take days. We haven't even decoded their signals yet and they're not related to any human coding I've ever dealt with...”
“Point taken,” Captain Beeson nodded. “Well, there's another option. Send the nearest station a hail and see how it responds.”
“Perhaps we should simply observe and depart, sir?” Commander Bowder said. “This is a major military base. The automated systems here may contain defensive protocols that could react poorly if we don't respond with the proper authentications.”
“True,” Captain Beeson said. “But we've already done plenty of observation. We need to know of these stations are capable of either allowing our allies a place of sanctuary or if they're inaccessible or if they're in the hands of our enemies. In case of the first, we've accomplished our mission. If it is either of the latter, we need to know.” He nodded at Alannis, “Ensign, send them a hail.”
Alannis cued up the signal and then hit transmit.
A moment later, the entire defensive sphere went active.
“Captain, they're hitting us with active sensors!” Lieutenant Cassat barked. A moment later he snapped, “Missile launch, multiple missiles!”
Chapter XVIII
Forge of Angrahad
The Sacred Stars
December 31, 2407
Alannis focused on her station but she listened with half an ear as Captain Beeson gave orders. “Navigation, reverse course,” Captain Beeson said. “Comms, any response other than the weapons fire?”
“Negative, sir,” Alannis said. She felt her mouth go dry as she saw just how many missiles had launched. On the sensor display she saw dozens on the way just from the nearest station. They were nearly a million kilometers from the other stations, but they'd also launched and tactical had begun to populate individual missiles there too.
“Tactical, what can you tell me about the inbound birds?”
“They're big, sir,” Lieutenant Perkins said and Alannis bit back a smile at his goofy expression, “Honkin' big birds. Their radar profile is at least eight times bigger than one of our Mark V’s.”
Alannis blanched a bit at that. Each Mark V contained a five hundred grams of antiprotons and protons in a magnetic containment matrix designed to collide them to maximize yield. The possibility that these missiles might contain eight times the explosive power... And that's even assuming they carry antimatter, the Ghornath Empire didn't make use of it.
“Those far stations launched on us too,” Captain Beeson said. “Which indicates they have range. Forrest, how confident are you on intercepting these birds?” The furthest stations were over two million kilometers distant. If those missiles had that kind of endurance, then who knew what other capabilities they had?
“They're big, sir, but they're still fast,” he replied. “They might be big enough to mount jamming systems or even defensive screens.”
“I take your meaning,” Captain Beeson nodded, “But we need to see what capabilities these things have. The first salvo will reach us in fifteen minutes and the next one after that at twenty minutes... navigation, you're still working on a jump?”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Forsberg nodded. “We've plotted it, it'll take a few more minutes to update.”
“Run the update for eighteen minutes,” Captain Beeson said. “Forrest, jamming systems active as those missiles come in on final acquisition. Don't hold back on our interceptor missiles, either.” In final acquisition, the missiles should be most vulnerable to jamming.
“Sir,” Forrest gave a nod. And while I trust him, Alannis thought to herself, I wish I was the one at the controls.
“Leader Chuni, could you try to message the defense platforms? It may respond to a Ghornath voice,” Captain Beeson said.
“I will try,” Chuni said. She leaned over her console as Alannis opened a channel for her. They waited for a long moment without response.
“Nothing, Captain,” Alannis said.
“Missiles coming in, sir,” Forrest said. Alannis admired how calm he sounded as he and Scott Yamahito directed preparations. As the missiles drew within a hundred thousand kilometers, they launched their interceptors. Alannis saw that they hadn't held back, they'd launched the Constellation's entire external racks. Sixteen interceptor missiles lanced out, their fast but short ranged drives designed to push their small payloads into close proximity.
“Aw, shit,” Forrest said as two of the inbound missiles detonated... and two vast cones of laser fire lanced out. “We just lost fifty percent of our interceptors,” Forrest said, even as the remaining interceptors went in on their attack runs.
Alannis hated feeling like a passenger as other people fought the ship. She could barely stand it, she wanted to rush over and push Scott off his controls and take over... yet this was her assigned place.
Fifteen of the inbound missiles died, the remaining twenty-one inbound continued.
“Final acquisition, initiating jamming pattern.”
Alannis put her communications systems into safe mode as the jamming systems came online. They were significantly improved over the jamming systems of even the Dreyfus Fleet. From what she understood, they'd integrated designs and signals from the alien ships found on Halcyon, one of the handful of technology improvements they'd been able to successfully integrate.
The jamming emitters were located at various areas around the hull, with a mix of broad spectrum and narrow band emitters. The reason she had to put her communications systems into safe mode was because otherwise they'd be burned out by the broad spectrum jamming. The intent of the tight-band jammers was to actively blind the sensors of the missiles while the broad spectrum emitters, operating in sequence, made it difficult to locate the precise location of the ship itself, casting “shadows” that should generate misses.
On her tiny screen, she couldn't make out individual missiles, but she could get a grasp for the overall situation. At least half of the inbound missiles lost acquisition, either blinded by the jamming or spoofed and sent after a phantom image.
She couldn't see the pulse cannon batteries firing, either, but she did see Forrest's fingers fly across his console as the last ten missiles came on their final attack run.
They flashed across the last ten thousand kilometers faster than the human brain could register, but the firing priorities and commands that tactical had prepared went into action. Eight of those missiles died to that fire, but the last two came in through the fire.
One of them detonated just short of the Constellation, either fooled at the last minute by jamming or detonating prematurely through some hardware fault. That one's warhead detonated with a shockwave that still shook the entire ship like a dog with a rat. The other missile wasn't a missile at all, but an attack drone that fired into them from close range until the interceptor fire finally killed it.
Alannis's seat restraints bit painfully into her shoulders and she felt the smart-gel of the seat lock down around her neck. Damage alarms wailed throughout the bridge as Alannis focused on updating the XO with her systems status.
“Multiple hits to starboard,” she heard the XO say. “Damage to starboard emitters, starboard external missile racks are destroyed. Compartments twenty-six, thirty-seven, fifty, and fifty-three are open to space. Starboard defense screen is down.”
“That's enough of that,” Captain Beeson said. “Navigation, status?”
“Shadow space coordinates coming online in fifteen seconds, sir,” Lieutenant Forsberg said.
“Good,” Captain Beeson said. “Helm, take us out of here.”
***
“So, what did we learn?” Daniel asked of his officers. Besides don't mess with those defenses, he thought to himself.
“Those missiles are nasty pieces of work,” Rory said cheerfully.
“Yes,” Feliks nodded, “in fact, I would estimate that they were designed to fight much tougher targets, battleships or dreadnoughts, perhaps even supercapital ships.”
“Most definitely,” Rory nodded, “in fact, I give it a seventy--”
“Hmm, ninety percent, most definitely,” Feliks said.
“Ninety, really?” Rory cocked his head at his fellow. “Well, okay, I'd give it an eighty-five percent chance that a direct hit by the warhead that detonated prematurely would have destroyed the vessel entirely.”
“What yield did we get off of it?” Daniel asked as he checked Ensign Perkins' notes.
“Oh, that's just it, it wasn't a detonation as we'd normally consider one at all!” Rory said excitedly. “Feliks and I will be studying it for weeks, maybe months! Those bastards who said we're not real scientists, they'll be eating their own livers when we publish a paper on phased exotic matter incoherence.”
Well, it does sound rather incoherent to me, Daniel thought absently. “What was it, in laymans terms?”
“It is a very sophisticated exotic matter pulse, what I would call a gluan plasma or glasma warhead.” Feliks said.
"Okay, so this whole exotic particle generation technology originates with the Ghornath or possibly their Protectors," Rory said. "Exotic particles behave in non-rational fashions compared to normal matter. So you end up with behaviors that don't follow standard physics. That's part of what makes the exotic particle cannons so devastating, they cause effects that distort the physics grid around them. What that warhead contained was essentially a condensed exotic particle liquid stored in a quantum matrix. I think it even contained raw quarkium matter, though that will require some serious analysis to decide." Rory gave a proud smile, "It's really quite clever."
"Yes, but what does it do?" Daniel asked.
"As the condensed liquid expands, it generates magnetic forces, gravitic forces, and broad spectrum electromagnetic radiation," Feliks said. "Which is why it strongly resembled an explosion. In general terms, it would appear the equivalent of a six hundred megaton nuclear detonation."
"Six hundred?" Someone asked incredulously.
"In appearance, yes," Rory said running a hand through his thinning hair. "In reality, it's even more destructive than that. The additional forces coming off the evaporating liquid... the shear forces are enough to split atoms, what they can do to the structure of a ship even at moderate range. This weapon is absolutely devastating, it's brilliant."
"Call them Liquidators," Forrest said shaking his head. "That's what they can do, liquidate an entire planet."
Rory nodded, "I like that, and it’s catchy..."
"One of these 'Liquidators' could possibly destroy a battleship or dreadnought," Feliks said. "A single warhead could crack a planetoid in half, wipe out an entire biosphere." He gave a thin-lipped smile, "We'll be careful about what parts of the science we make public, of course."
***
Fields of Targonis
The Sacred Stars
January 1, 2408
Another day another system, Daniel thought to himself.
"Well?" Daniel asked.
"Three massive orbital installations, some additional drone traffic," Lieutenant Cassat replied. "We're seeing major cities on the planet and some activity there, though not as much..."
"Farming world," Daniel nodded at where Chuni sat. "Have they noticed our presence, yet?"
They should be out of range of even the massive missiles, the Liquidators as Forrest had dubbed them. Granted that was all an estimate based off their accelerations and the range that the stations had fired at, but it was a guess that Daniel felt confident with.
"No, sir," Lieutenant Cassat said.
"Same comm traffic?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, sir, minimal standby traffic, nothing more," Ensign Giovanni said. She's underutilized at communications, he thought to himself, though she's also managing the Marine Platoon, so it balances out for now.
Once they got back, with the inevitable personnel rotations that came with the return from a cruise, he'd need to talk with the XO about shifting her to another department. Navigation or tactical, he thought, I'm certain Commander Bowder will have an opinion on either one.
"Leader Chuni, unless you've any objections, I think we'll bypass this system," Daniel said with a nod at the lone Ghornath on the bridge. When she gave a nod in reply he continued, "In fact, navigation, how confident do you feel about bypassing the other systems?"
Lieutenant Forsberg looked nervous, "Sir, we've made these jumps because the distance is relatively short. From here to the Throne of Kopal Pesh is a three light-year jump. Without mapping shadow space, we could be significantly off in our coordinates, we can't localize exactly where we'll arrive with any degree of certainty."
"But we don't have much to go on anyway," Daniel said and Lieutenant Forsberg nodded. Surveying new routes was always more than a little problematic, especially without a proficient psychic pilot. Chuni might have that ability, but she hadn't shown any urge to use it since their jump from the Akris system. She might well be untrained, in which case it would be less risky in the long term to utilize the navigational computer. He considered it for a long moment, "And our enemies might well already have mapped this star cluster. If they have, then the longer we spend jumping from one point to another, the greater the chance that they'll be waiting for us at the end."
"Our destination is the Throne of Kopal Pesh. Plot us a course, Lieutenant Forsberg."
***
The Throne of Kopal Pesh
The Sacred Stars
January 3, 2408
The Constellation shuddered as it emerged from shadow space. It was just enough to tell Daniel that they'd gotten lucky, that their jump coordinates and velocity hadn't been off enough to shred their ship in what was very near a blind jump. Only a ten percent chance of that, Daniel reminded himself. After all, they'd mapped the general region of shadow space with their first couple jumps. It was only the small eddies and other fine features of shadow space that could have tripped them up.
"Status?" Daniel asked.
"We're plotting our location now, sir," Lieutenant Forsberg said.
Daniel felt his shoulders square as the system map populated. The star and planets appeared first, then gradually more detail filled in. They were here, he knew, they had made an impossible journey to a place of myth. Yet he could feel it in the pit of his stomach, things were far from over.
***
The Gardens of Maar
The Sacred Stars
January 3, 2408
The humans have arrived, the scout commander informed him.
The consciousness that thought of himself as Hunter felt rage boil up inside. After Sidewinder had failed to stop the human ship and then allowed the slave-race vessel to flee, Hunter had sent Sidewinder and his surviving vessels back to their base. His advice to Minder had been to purge the crews. The failure on Sidewinder's part to stop the human ship was far graver a sin than allowing the slave-race vessel to escape. Minder has always had a soft spot for Sidewinder, Hunter thought bitterly.
Hunter had used Sidewinder's knowledge of the cluster to position his fleet to intercept the humans at the fourth system in the cluster. The only good thing about their presence was that they had opened the portal, so Hunter’s fleet hadn’t had to maneuver through the tiny chinks in the shadow space barrier. It had taken them over a thousand solar cycles to discover those winding paths, and even taking their time they still lost ships making that transit.
Now it appeared that his ambush attempt had proven futile. The human vessel had bypassed the system entirely. Now they would have hours to make observations and study the artifacts there.
At least they cannot activate them, he thought with relief, though if they escape the system or transmit their data to their allies, then it might prove dangerous enough.
Worst, he had but two ships in the final system to stop them. If they try to board the node, he sent, land your drones and stop them. The two scout vessels he had dispatched carried hundreds of their drone warriors. Those should overwhelm any humans who boarded the node.
All vessels, Hunter sent to his fleet, prepare to jump.
If the humans delayed long enough, he would trap them and destroy them. Then he would do what he had begun in the Gebreynr system: he would hunt down the remnants of the slave-race and eradicate them. Every ship, every colony. Minder had pulled him away from that before, but in Hunter's opinion, it was Minder's mercy which had led to all this in the first place.
Mercy had no place in their task. They would destroy all threats and if Minder didn't agree after this potential disaster, then Hunter would go above him.
And then, he thought, once we've wiped out the slave-race, we can return our attention to the humans.
***
The Throne of Kopal Pesh
The Sacred Stars
January 4, 2409
"That's very interesting," Daniel said staring at the display.
It had been very clear from their arrival at the system which of the two inhabitable planets was the capital of the ancient Ghornath realm. While the more distant planet had a number of orbital structures and defenses, those around Kopal Pesh dwarfed anything they had seen to date. Massive stations hung in orbit around it, along with a huge orbital ring, tethered to the planet like spokes on a wheel.
It had taken them over six hours to draw closer to the planet, part of that being the need to match relative velocity to the star since their jump had left them gradually falling "behind" the rest of the system.
Now, though, they were close enough to have detailed visuals to go with their other sensor data. One of these stations is not like the other ones, Daniel thought to himself, one of these stations does not belong. The children's rhyme seemed oddly appropriate given the stark differences.
The Ghornath stations were obviously alien, big, angular platforms with oddly-shaped docking bays and a very archaic, almost gothic feel to their designs.
The station in position over Kopal Pesh's northern pole, however, was of markedly different design. For one thing, it utterly dwarfed the hard, angular structures of the Ghornath. For another, it had a hauntingly beautiful design, one of graceful curves and an almost-organic appearance.
And if that wasn't enough, the station wasn't in orbit and there was no sign of propulsive force, yet it hung perfectly over the northern pole of the planet.
"Rory, Feliks, any thoughts about our little friend here?"
"It is the Throne of Kopal Pesh," Chuni said before either scientist could speak. "The Protectors built it in order to communicate with my people. It is there that the Emperors ruled over our worlds." She took a deep breath, "It is there that we need to go."
"You're sure?" Daniel asked.
Chuni nodded, "That is where we will find answers."
Commander Bowder scowled, "Sir, those defenses will eat us alive before we can even get within weapons range. I suggest we withdraw."
Daniel considered the problem for a long moment. How did they reach the Throne itself without facing the defensive elements? "Rory, Feliks, you two are being awfully quiet."
"There's not very much that we can say," Rory replied. There was an edge to his voice, though, and Daniel knew something wasn't quite right. "This structure, it's obviously not of Ghornath origin, it's possibly built by whoever their Protectors are..."
"Possibly?" Daniel asked.
"Well, it's of different design from the Gate," Rory said. "So who knows, really? I'd recommend caution, though. I mean, we don't know what we don't know here."
"It would not be a bad thing to perhaps study it remotely," Feliks said. "After all, we haven't any senior-ranking Ghornath aboard. We could conclude this reconnaissance mission and then let the Ghornath what we have learned."
The sudden and immediate practical cowardice on the behalf of the two scientists bothered Daniel in the face of how often they'd gleefully encouraged further investigation despite any risks. Still, they weren't entirely correct... he hoped.
Daniel looked at Chuni, "Can you gain access to the station if we get you there?"
The big Ghornath met his gaze, her mirror-like eyes unreadable, but her hide was the brown calm color that suggested confidence. "Yes, if you get me there, I can get us inside."
***
Chapter XIX
The Throne of Kopal Pesh
The Sacred Stars
January 4, 2409
"How do we get in?" Daniel asked.
"You're asking a lot of us," Rory replied. "We're scientists, not magicians. I can't just wave my hands and shout 'open sesame' and the defenses drop, that's not how this works! That's not how any of this works!"
"There could be any number of requirements for entry to the defensive perimeter," Feliks nodded. "It might require a physical item, there could be a variety of challenge, response requirements..."
"Well," Daniel said, "since neither of you two have come up with anything over the past couple hours, that leaves me no choice."
"Oh, good," Rory said, "We really should be getting back, I'm certain there's a backlog of important work for both of us..."
"We're not going back, not yet," Daniel gave a grim smile. "Ensign Giovanni stripped the transponder data off of what we think was a pair of drone cargo shunts. We've modified our drop shuttles to match that transponder data and we're going to fly one of them right up to the structure. We're keeping the second one in reserve in case we need to launch a rescue mission."
"Wait... what?" Rory stared at him in shock. "Good luck to whoever is aboard, I mean, they'll have different emissions characteristics, different radar profiles, drastically different mass..."
"It might fool the Ghornath defenses, but there is next to no chance it would fool the station," Feliks nodded. "Whoever goes is doomed."
"Well," Daniel grinned, "you had better hope you're wrong. You'll be joining the away team."
"Whoa, wait a minute!" Rory protested. "Surely there's another way?"
"You are sending us on what is surely a suicide mission," Feliks shook his head. "No one should set foot on that station, much less under such dangerous circumstances!"
"Wait... what do you mean no one should set foot on the station?" Daniel asked.
The two scientists looked at each other for a long moment. "Look," Rory said, not meeting Daniel's eyes, "We don't know for certain who built that station. It might not be what it appears to be..."
Daniel's gaze narrowed, "You mean someone besides the Ghornath's Protectors built it?"
Rory glanced at Feliks, but the other man's gaze was on the floor. Whatever had the two men spooked, it was enough that neither of the two men seemed able to directly speak of it. "Maybe not... or maybe these 'Protectors' of the Ghornath were anything but."
Daniel thought about the vast field of wreckage they'd found in the Wastes of Argolim. "I might be convinced of the latter based upon some of what we've seen so far. The former seems a little far-fetched if you're suggesting another alien race went and built a station in orbit over the Ghornath's capital planet and the Protectors let them do it."
"Or else the station was already there and the Protectors simply made use of it," Feliks muttered.
Daniel blinked at the scientist, "Why would you say that?"
"It doesn't matter," Rory said quickly. "Look, if these Protectors aren't the stalwart types that the Ghornath legends suggest, then we probably should actively prevent access to that station, not be assisting it."
"We gave our word," Daniel said. "Honor compels us to follow through."
"Honor is not a suicide pact!" Rory snapped.
And there it is, Daniel realized. Whatever had Rory and Feliks so spooked, they thought certain death lay at the end of this course.
"What aren't you telling me?" Daniel asked.
Neither Rory nor Feliks answered for a long moment. After what seemed like forever, Rory ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Look, let's just say that there's things that it's not safe to know. Things that even knowing a little bit of the truth can lead to very dangerous repercussions."
"We are not talking just madness and death, we are cautioning against forces that could destroy humanity," Feliks said softly. "Things that should be left alone."
"You think this is one of those things?" Daniel asked.
They both nodded.
"Do you have any way to verify that?"
Rory and Feliks exchanged nervous glances, "No... not without examining these things in person."
Daniel considered that for a moment. "Okay, here's the deal. You two are still going." As they opened their mouths to protest, he held up a hand, "I'm authorizing both of you to pull the plug as soon as you see anything that is of any threat. I'll instruct Ensign Giovanni of that fact myself." He gave them both a level look, "And in the meantime, I want both of you to do your best to make this mission succeed, do you understand?"
Both men gave him reluctant nods.
"Excellent," Daniel said. "I'm glad we understand each other."
***
"Listen up, Marines," Alannis said, pitching her voice to reach the back of the briefing room. She had sat through several of Ashtar Shan's briefings and she did her best to adopt her late friend's tone. From the intent looks on their faces, she'd pulled it off well enough.
"We are going into the station, what our Ghornath allies have identified as the Throne of Kopal Pesh," Alannis brought up a holoimage of the structure. "We don't know what we'll find there, but we're going along to make certain that Leader Chuni is able to activate the station."
"Possible threats include alien defense systems, robotic guardians, and anyone who might try to get in the way, understand?"
"Hooah," the platoon rumbled.
"What's your mission, Private Antio?" Alannis barked.
"No matter what, our mission is to defend Chuni," he replied. "She activates the station we high-five on the objective, and we all go home, ma'am!"
Close enough, Alannis thought.
"We're going with a heavy combat load, since we'll take one of our two shuttles in," Alannis said. "They've both had their transponders modified so that they'll match drone ships here in the system. We go in, offload and try to activate the station. If necessary, the second shuttle will come in to retrieve us. Any questions?"
No one responded. "Alright, squad leaders, conduct your inspections. We're going to be three million kilometers from resupply, so make sure everyone has their batteries." Alannis turned to Gunnery Sergeant Tam. "Gunny, will you inspect my gear?"
"No problem, ma'am," Gunny Tam said with a professional nod.
As he checked her gear over, she asked, "How'd I do?"
"Good, ma'am," he said. "Next time you might add something about medical support and evac, but they already know it'll be difficult at best." He finished his inspection and gave her a nod, "Looks good, ma'am." It had better, she thought, I went over it myself three times.
"Right," Alannis filed that away for later. She hoped they didn't have any need for medical evacuation. For one thing, the round-trip travel time to and from the ship would be very long. For another, given the advanced technology and the massive scale of the structure they'd be exploring, it was all too likely they'd be far outmatched by anything they faced.
"Captain will be doing a final brief, aboard the shuttle" Alannis said as she turned back to face her platoon. "Move out."
***
Daniel looked at the nervous faces of the Fleet personnel and the stoic faces of his Marines. Still, compared to the pasty expressions of Rory and Feliks, they all looked like they'd perform admirably.
"Our analysis indicates there's a landing platform here," he said as Ensign Giovanni brought up the site on the display. "That will be your point of entry. The Constellation will be standing by to back you up, so if anything goes wrong--"
His comm chimed an alert and he activated it, "Yes?"
"Sir," Commander Bowder said, "we've just picked up an emergence from shadow space. Forty-plus vessels ranging from corvette to frigate size. Profiles match the unknown enemy vessels from before."
"I'll be right up," Daniel said. He leveled his gaze on Chuni, "It's all on you now."
If she had showed any shift in posture or flush of her hide, even the slightest edge of doubt, he would have called off the mission then and there.
But she just stared at him, her hide brown and her posture straight, "I will not fail."
Daniel turned to Ensign Giovanni, "Ensign, launch the shuttle. We'll screen you as long as we can."
The shuttle launched almost before he had finished closing the airlock. Daniel moved quickly to the bridge, even as he saw his crew readying the ship for battle around him. He felt an odd sort of calm wash over him. Here they were, far beyond the edge of explored space, in a system which even the Ghornath had believed to be legend.
They were about to fight a foe that outnumbered them, with advanced, powerful technology. They had no allies, no one but themselves, with a last, desperate hope of infiltrating an alien station and possibly turning the planet's defenses to their favor.
There was every possibility that they would die here, alone, far from any human star.
Yet Daniel felt a strange confidence. His ship and crew were solid. They had already accomplished so much... they would not fail now.
He stepped onto the bridge and gave the XO a confident nod. "Commander, I have the ship's conn."
"You have the conn, sir," Commander Bowder replied.
"What's our status?" Daniel asked.
"Forty-eight enemy vessels," Commander Bowder said. Is it just me, Daniel thought, or does the XO seem a little bit pleased to be right? "We estimate eight destroyer-class, sixteen frigate-class, and twenty-four corvette-class vessels."
"Very good," Daniel said. The range was still well over three hundred thousand kilometers, but the enemy fleet was in position to cut them off if they tried to move around the planet's defenses. We're boxed in, he thought. The Constellation could flee into the defensive perimeter and be destroyed or she could try to escape along it's edge and be caught by the faster enemy vessels. There were no significant celestial objects to hide behind, just open space.
The enemy must have scouts in the system, who had reported his arrival and given the enemy their course.
"Navigation, status of plotting a jump to shadow space?" Daniel asked.
"Five more minutes, sir," Lieutenant Forsberg said.
In theory, the Lieutenant could have had one prepared already, but they'd no reason to expect this kind of ambush. Five minutes time from now might as well be five hours, though. The enemy had a significant velocity advantage and higher accelerations. They could pursue the Constellation anywhere they went...
No, he thought, not anywhere.
He connected to Engineering, "Lieutenant Commander Voronkov, how long would it take to modify our ship's transponder?"
***
Hunter felt a rush of pleasure as his fleet emerged in perfect position. The human vessel was against the planet's defenses. While his own ships couldn’t brave those defenses, the human vessel would be unable to escape, Hunter’s ships had the velocity and acceleration advantage.
They could not be allowed to tell their fellow humans what had occurred here and they could not be allowed to pass that information along to their slave-race allies.
Even as he thought that, though, he felt their ansible transmission. It was a compressed data-burst, pulsed through shadow space to their distant headquarters. It seems they realize they will not survive, he thought. Still, if he couldn’t prevent the information from going out, then he could kill these humans in warning. Surely the rest of their species would hold back if they thought trespass here brought certain doom.
Hunter, one of his scouts reported, the humans launched a shuttle, the course will take it to the Enforcement platform.
Hunter felt his pleasure ebb. Why have the defenses not engaged it?
The scouts took a long moment to respond. Then again, he had not allowed them much growth beyond their purpose. That was why he had left two vessels, they needed two ships in order to function Independent thought was not something he wanted in his subordinates, especially not ones who operated outside his supervision. It may be that the humans have mimicked the transponder from one of the caretaker drones, his scouts finally responded.
Hunter considered that for a long moment. In theory, that would allow the human shuttle to bypass the slave-race’s defense stations. It shouldn’t allow them access to the Enforcer platform, but these humans had proven remarkably resourceful so far.
His scouts had stealth systems. Those might allow them to get close enough to the platform to offload their troops. Move into position, if the humans board the platform, he told them, do not allow them access to the Enforcer platform.
The human cruiser’s drives went active and it began to maneuver. Yet it had waited long enough that there could be no escape, Hunter’s fleet would catch it long before it could escape.
Yet he felt his satisfaction fade as he saw the enemy’s course. The human cruiser dove straight in towards the defenses, as if it didn’t care that they would easily destroy it.
Let the humans kill themselves, Hunter thought. Yet he felt dread, they had fought so long to survive, why would they not continue that fight?
Hunter searched for the reason and a moment later he felt rage boil up as he found the answer. The humans had altered their ship’s transponder. While that wouldn’t fool a sapient, the automated defenses run by the caretaker systems might not identify the cruiser as a threat. In fact, if his fleet continued their pursuit, those defenses would attack his forces.
Yet what choice did he have? The human ship could not be allowed to survive.
***
The artificial intelligence caretaker in charge of the multiple star systems was actually rather sophisticated. It had operated for just over eight thousand solar cycles with only a few minor setbacks and it's adaptive algorithms were advanced enough that it had managed to fix those issues before they became major problems.
During those eight thousand cycles, it had stockpiled weapons, ships, and equipment according to its instructions. It had maintained the empty cities and its subroutines had managed the storage facilities with no faults whatsoever. The relative handful of issues had been unavoidable incidents: shifting geology, solar flares, and other similar disasters which had caused minor but repairable damage.
The artificial intelligence ran across an ansible network, so it had detected the initial entry into the Forges of Angrahad system and the initial access attempt by the unknown vessel. That access attempt, a radio broadcast, had triggered automatic defenses.
That trigger came as a result of over two dozen prior attempts by various ships and even fleets, each of which had been of hostile attempt. The intelligence had depleted a relatively large stockpile of weapons to date in preventing those ships from accessing any of its protected worlds.
Yet this new ship had not behaved in the predicted fashion. It had not returned fire on the weapon emplacements that had fired on it. Nor had had it displayed similar signs of technology to the original invaders. While the artificial intelligence could have launched combat drone vessels to intercept it, it had instead chosen to observe.
As the networked systems watched the progress of the ship, two things had become clear. The first was that the unknown vessel seemed to be observing what it could of the star systems. The second was that the ship contained elements of technology crafted by the creators.
That second fact was the more important. The artificial intelligence had functioned as caretaker for eight thousand solar cycles, but it was not the master or ruler of these systems. It longed for the return of its creators, for the completion of its mission... and also for someone ---something-- to talk with besides itself.
If this ship contained technology from the creators, then it might have been sent by the creators. In which case, the artificial intelligence would be correct in allowing it access to the Protector station. There was some ambiguity. The intelligence had long awaited the pass-codes that the creators should know. Yet there was some chance that the mortal descendants could have lost those. The intelligence was willing to allow them access in the chance that they were the ones he had awaited.
Besides, if they were not, then the Protector's defense would eliminate them before they could do any damage to that station.
It had quickly seen through the stolen transponder codes on the ship... but it had also seen the ships in pursuit of the unknown vessel. Those the station recognized as the most recent incarnations of the attackers who had tried its defenses for the past eight thousand solar cycles. They sought to destroy its defenses, to tear down its cities, to destroy the storage vaults and facilities, and to lay waste to everything the creators had built.
The unknown ship ran from them, which while it didn't tell the intelligence if it was sent by the creators, it did tell it that it was no friend to its enemy.
As those enemies pursued the ship within its engagement zone, the intelligence felt some satisfaction. It had never been intended for battle, merely basic defense, but the various raid attempts had rarely come within range of its main weapons, certainly never in such numbers.
Now it finally had a chance to strike back.
It took the time to identify and target the enemy ships and then all of its missile platforms fired at once.
***
"Missile launch!" Lieutenant Cassat shouted. After a moment he continued, "Target is the enemy fleet!"
Daniel felt a knot of tension ease. That relief turned quickly into awe as he saw how many missiles had launched. The cruiser's sensors were overwhelmed and tracking quickly devolved into tracking missile flights.
"How many?" Daniel asked.
"Best estimate is just over a thousand," Lieutenant Cassat said, "in this first salvo. The automated systems held their fire until all the platforms on this side were in range.
Daniel nodded at that, but he could see that while the defenses had held their fire, they hadn't fired in sequence or timed the missile acceleration. That meant that while all the missiles had fired at once, they wouldn't arrive all at the same time, but rather staggered over several minutes.
"Orders, Captain?" The XO asked. Commander Bowder looked resigned more than anything else.
"Hold our fire, for now," Daniel said. The defense systems might target the Constellation if they opened fire. Even if they didn't, he didn't know what his ship could add, beyond timing their missiles to overlap with that of the defense platforms. Four more missiles at a time may not be enough to matter, he thought.
One thing was certain. The enemy ships had not reversed course, they'd continued their pursuit of the Constellation and they were continuing to gain.
***
Chapter XX
The Throne of Kopal Pesh
The Sacred Stars
January 4, 2408
Alannis looked at Chuni, “Can you do this?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I have the Danaris Pesh Kopali, it is the signet ring of my family. Legend also calls it the Key of Kopal Pesh.” Alannis's friend pulled a ring out of a pocket on her harness. The ring itself was heavily inscribed with geometric symbols, but the thing that really stood out was the large, purple sapphire, which almost seemed to pulse with light. “In theory, this will grant me entry, along with my blood and birthright.”
In theory, Alannis thought.
Either way, they were already committed. The shuttle was well within the defensive perimeter. They'd seen no sign of attack yet. Chief Darani had said their modified transponder received a single query and then they'd been ignored.
She just hoped the Constellation proved so lucky. Captain Beeson had messaged them to notify his intent. Now if Chuni could get the defenses on their side, then this all might work out...
“Two minutes!” the crew chief called out. Alannis gave her gear a last check, then nodded at Chuni who donned her helmet. The princess wore her powered armor. Right now Alannis felt more than a bit of envy at that, she and her Marines only had their combat suits, the Fleet was too short on powered armor after the Dreyfus Coup to give every ship a set.
As the shuttle closed the last few kilometers, a pulse of light enveloped them all. Again, time seemed to freeze and Alannis saw Chuni draw out her ring.
The pulse of light this time had a distinctly blue tone and as it cleared, Chief Darani shouted, "Bay doors opening, I'm taking her in!"
The shuttle touched down in a cavernous chamber. As soon as the side doors opened, Gunny Tam had a fire team racing out to secure a beachhead.
Alannis followed Chuni down the ramp, both of them moving at a run. The rest of the platoon followed, quickly splitting off to establish a defensive perimeter. "Ramp clear," Alannis heard over the net and the shuttle rose into the air, weapons armed, ready to provide covering fire.
"Which way?" Alannis asked.
Chuni gave a wave of one of her power-armor gauntlets towards the back wall, only a couple hundred meters distant. Only, Alannis thought dryly, this place is ridiculously huge.
The platoon moved out. Without cover, they moved in a broad, dispersed group. As the lead elements drew near the wall, a large, curved door swept open, like the petals of a flower, revealing a curved, slope-walled corridor.
"We're going in there?" Alannis asked.
Chuni spoke over her comm, "Affirmative. This should lead us to the Advocacy Chamber. The oldest legends..."
"We don't have time for the legends," Alannis said. "This Advocacy Chamber, that's where you can gain control?"
"No," Chuni said. "That will gain us access to the larger facility. From there I will need to take the Corridor of Triumph to the Throne Room itself. That is where I should be able to take control."
"Right," Alannis said, "Gunny, we're going in, keep an eye out for any sensors or traps--"
"Break, break, break!" Chief Darani shouted over the net. "Contact, two ships coming in the doors--"
His voice cut out with a flare of light. Alannis spun in time to see two boxy ships, inky blots against the stars behind them. The shuttle was gone, an expanding ball of plasma where it had been. “Into the corridor, move!” Alannis barked.
As her platoon moved to obey, the station’s defenses opened up. A pulse of energy, so bright that her visor darkened to black and she could still see it, drove into the side of the lead ship. That one detonated, the wreckage sending the other ship spiraling into the deck.
Chuni and the others raced ahead and Alannis followed, yet over her shoulder as she looked back at the wrecked vessel, she saw airlocks snap open and figures begin to emerge.
She turned forward and raced down the corridor after her platoon.
***
Daniel watched as the missile salvoes went in and he couldn’t help but notice how the enemy formation seemed to draw in on itself. He looked over at Commander Bowder, “Strange, isn’t it?”
His XO gave a nod, “You’d think they’d disperse against that kind of fire, especially with how broad the kill radius on those warheads are…” He trailed off and then he highlighted several vessels on the opposite edges of the enemy formation. “Look at this, their maneuvers… they’re perfectly synchronized.”
“They’d have to be operating that close together,” Daniel said. Any close-quarters formation necessitated timed maneuvers like that.
“Yes… but perfectly synchronized?” Commander Bowder asked. He shook his head. “No, sir, these four ships, they’re travelling at different velocities, separated by tens of thousands of kilometers… and from what our sensors can tell, they turned at exactly the same time, down to the millisecond.”
“So what does it mean?” Daniel asked. Synchronicity like that wasn’t something anyone particularly required. Most often ships in formation operated with a great deal of latitude, only fighters or occasionally gunboats operated in such close proximity.
"Some kind of combat network?" Daniel asked. Yet it didn't make sense. Many nations used combat networks to an extent, as a means of issuing orders and controlling groups of ships with minimal errors. This level of precision, however, was beyond that.
"Maybe it's some kind of automated control?" Forrest asked.
"Like drones?" Daniel asked. "Possibly, but..."
He trailed off as the first salvo went in. The enemy fired their weapons in overlapping waves. Each of the corvettes put out twelve of their beams and the larger ships put out sixteen or even twenty. The inbound flight of missiles had consisted of only thirty of the missiles, probably a mix of the Liquidators and other types. None of them survived to reach the enemy force.
"Their missile defenses are nasty," Forrest said as he forwarded his department's analysis. At this range, they couldn't tell much, beyond the fact that the enemy's overlapping fire had easily cleared the missiles.
The process repeated for the next three salvoes as the closest platforms arrived in quick succession. The enemy formation didn't even slow; they simply swept the space ahead of them like a broom.
"I've noticed something interesting, sir," Forrest said after the fourth wave went in. "The enemy has prioritized their targets in each wave. You can't tell unless you break their fire down ship-by-ship, but by our analysis, their lead vessels have identified and targeted the Liquidator missiles. The follow-on vessels have knocked out what we think are some of the weaponized drone missiles, and the remaining ships eliminate the jamming missiles."
"So?" Daniel asked.
"Sir, we're only identifying those missiles after the enemy destroys them," Forrest said. "Other than the detonation of the missiles in question, there's no outward signs that we've picked up of the differences. For that matter, we're having issues even seeing the other missiles past the jammers, but they're picking the jamming missiles off last."
Daniel pulled up the sensor analysis for the enemy ships. Those ships used active radar, but every indication was that it wasn't any more sophisticated than what the Constellation carried. They might get more out of that through software... but not much. How were these people identifying inbound missiles with such precision?
"Sir," Forrest said, "going with the XO's idea of a combat network, tactical has identified several possible central vessels to their formation." He put carat on those four ships, the four largest of the enemy destroyers. "The rest of the formation seems to move around that central point."
"A command ship?" Commander Bowder asked, even as another salvo of missiles died.
"Or maybe the center for their network," Daniel said. "Maybe if we take that out, then we damage their overall cohesion."
"It's a moot point, for now," Commander Bowder said with a gesture at his displays, "nothing's getting through on them."
"Captain," Chief Pine said, "we're getting a transmission from the boarding party."
"...shuttle destroyed, enemy has boarded the station with two vessels," Ensign Giovanni's voice was barely understandable through the static. "...heading deeper into the station, will report if successful..." Her voice trailed off into static.
"Ensign?" Daniel asked. He looked at Chief Pine, "Anything?"
"Negative, sir, that's all I was able to receive. Whatever that station is made out of, it's blocking any signal I try to send and we're only receiving sporadic transmissions from them."
The enemy continued to gain on the Constellation, Daniel saw. Whatever you're going to do, Chuni, he thought, do it soon.
***
"Rear guard by fire teams!" Gunny Tam snapped over the net.
Alannis shoved Rory and Feliks ahead of her as the two scientists babbled nervously.
The corriodor opened up into a broad chamber with no warning. Alannis actually stumbled as the floor sloped downwards. "We're here," Alannis called out, "the Advocacy Chamber."
Chuni rushed down the ramp. The chamber seemed to be set up like and amphitheater, with broad levels for people to stand and a large, elevated platform at the back. Alannis dragged the two scientists with her and followed her friend, even as Gunny Tam got the Marines into defensive positions.
I hope I'm wrong about what I thought I saw, Alannis thought. Even if she wasn't, she didn't want to be in a firefight in this place. There was no room, no cover.
Chuni had begun climbing the ramp to the platform. Alannis gave off pushing the scientists and jogged up behind her friend. "Well?"
Chuni removed her helmet and then pulled out her ring as she moved to the center of the platform. "This is where our senior leaders would gather to make decisions or to petition the Protectors. They would select their leader, their Turan, to deliver the message to the Protectors or to broadcast their decision throughout the different worlds."
"Okay," Alannis looked around, she didn't see even the seams of a door on the wall or floor, "How did they do it?"
"I don't know," Chuni grunted, her hide, where it was visible on her head and neck, had turned a dull, angry red. "I don't know enough, I know it has to do with this ring, but I don't know the details. Those were kept secret, by my family and I've lost them."
"Maybe it's a puzzle?" Feliks asked as he came up. "Some kind of
"No, no, no," Rory said. "Something that complicated would take too long. This was supposed to be how someone could carry an emergency message, right?"
Chuni nodded in response.
"Well, then your Protectors would want a quick way for the message to get through... something someone wouldn't forget in an emergency or could figure out in case something had happened to the key leaders..." Rory walked around the platform. "Huh," he said, "there's some writing here..."
Alannis looked up as Gunny Tam rushed up the ramp, "Ma'am, we've got major security issues here. We got some cover in the corridor, but if we lose the entrance, we're in a shooting gallery here."
"I know," Alannis said. "They're trying to get the next door opened."
"They better hurry," Gunny Tam said. "I dropped some tattle-tales on our way and they're reporting movement... headed this way quick."
Alannis walked over to where Chuni and Rory had begun to argue, "Look!" Rory shouted, "I just want to see your ring, to compare it to the writing in the circle here!"
Alannis stepped up and snatched the ring from Chuni. The buzzing she'd heard in her ears grew until it seemed like it washed everything else out. How had Chuni been able to function with this thing buzzing in her mind?
There were no words in that buzzing, but there was meaning. Alien meaning, something not meant for a human mind to fully understand.
Yet she could feel the intent of it. Alannis stepped into the circle and held up the ring.
Brilliant light flared and then, in front of her, a glowing presence took form.
Chuni came up to stand beside her and Alannis passed over the ring. "How did you know to do that?" Chuni asked.
"It just felt right," Alannis said. She wondered if Chuni had felt the call and if so, if she'd fought it. Maybe she'd been afraid or too nervous or distracted to listen. Alannis didn't know, all that mattered was they'd gotten some response.
The glowing form finished materializing, an odd figure, bipedal, but with great glowing wings of light. It had either two or four arms, masked within glowing robes that also hid its features. When it spoke, Alannis heard the words in her mind, My children, she said, in a distinctly feminine voice, the time has ever come when children leave home to venture into the unknown. To my regret, that day has come and past.
"Please tell me this is not a recording," Alannis muttered, "We could really use some powerful Protectors to kick some enemy ass."
This recording stands for those of you who have returned...
"Of course," Alannis muttered.
...by now you are adults, having lived in the outer universe, having fought and suffered and grown. I do not know what trials you have faced, but I know they will have been many, the presence said. Know this, however, there are those who will hate you for your potential, the potential we sought to unlock within you. Those enemies will have sensed your arrival and even now will be massing to attack, to prevent you from unlocking that potential.
"You think?" Alannis snapped. "Come on, they're right down the corridor!"
"Alannis!" Chuni said in a shocked tone, "This is a Protector speaking..."
"No, this is a ten thousand-year-old recording that's 'cautioning' us about a threat that's going to come down the hall and kill us in the next few minutes!" Alannis snapped.
...and other resources that you will find here. You will be the leaders. Guide and shape them as we sought to guide and shape you. Do not forget us. Seek us out and we will impart our wisdom and advice to you. My children, know that while we can no longer protect you, everything we have done was to build a brighter day.
The image faded.
"Fascinating," Rory said. "I heard her voice quite clearly in my mind. I mean, I'm not even remotely gifted on any sort of psionic measurement. I'm the psychic equivalent of being tone deaf, but I could hear her."
"A psychic recording, incredible," Feliks said. "And who knows what subliminal messaging it could imprint directly onto our minds..."
"Why would you..." Rory stared at his friend, "Where do you even come up with these ideas. You know how I feel about things being planted in my head!"
The back wall of the platform opened up, the featureless wall reforming into a broad archway. Both scientists ceased their bickering and stared.
"Alright Marines, there's our exit!" Alannis called out.
That's when the gunfire began.
***
Staff Sergeant Dawn Witzke watched the corridor even as she split her attention between her squad. A team was here with her at the corridor entrance while B Team had taken up positions halfway down the amphitheater, armed with the squad's heavy weapons to better keep any enemies heads down for when they'd have to retreat.
Not that there's anywhere to retreat too...
"Staff Sergeant," Corporal Arduino said, "what do we do if the Ensign can't get the door open?"
"She'll get the door open, Arduino," Dawn growled.
"But Staff Sergeant, what if she can't. I mean, what if the door doesn't work after ten thousand years, or..."
"The Ensign said she'll get the door open," Dawn snapped. "Her brother defeated the Chxor Empire, do you think a little door is going to stop a Giovanni?"
Corporal Arduino stayed quiet. She didn't know if that was because she'd given him something to think about or because he disagreed and just didn't want to piss her off. Either was fine with her just now.
"Alright Marines, there's our exit!" Ensign Giovanni called out.
"See, that's what I said..." Corporal Arduino started to say.
A roar of gunfire began down the corridor as inky forms rushed forward.
"Contact!" Dawn shouted. She sighted down her rifle and opened up. One of the figures fell but dozens more swarmed behind, firing as they came.
"I'm hit!" Corporal Arduino shouted.
"Reloading!" Private Antio called out.
This wasn't going to work and Dawn saw that right off. The enemy didn't have much cover, but they came forward under a weight of suppressive fire and they didn't seem to have anything resembling fear.
"Bravo Team, prepare to cover our withdrawal," Dawn barked out. "Alpha Team, fall back on my mark!"
She rushed over to where Corporal Arduino had fallen. He'd finished putting a tourniquet around his leg, but there was no way he could put his full weight on it. She hoisted him over her shoulder. "Final fire!" Dawn called out. Without aiming or really even looking she unloaded her magazine at full auto down the corridor at the advancing enemy. While they didn't seem to have individual fear, the weight of return fire slacked off, probably because the weight of fire killed the lead element and the rest had to push past their corpses.
"Fall back!" Dawn barked.
She and Alpha Team hurried down the central ramp, racing for the platform, reloading as they went. They'd just passed Bravo Team when they opened up on the entrance to the corridor. Dawn toggled her heads up display to show dark forms spilling out the corridor to be mown down by Lance Corporal Sutton and his MG-555.
The problem was, even firing in bursts, he only carried so much ammunition.
She and Alpha Team crested the platform where Second Squad had set up, weapons ready to cover Bravo Team's withdrawal.
"Black on ammo!" Lance Corporal Sutton shouted.
"Prepare to withdraw," Dawn said, "fall back to the next set of doors, move!"
Second squad opened up on the enemies even as Dawn continued to rush back to the next set of doors. They could do this. As long as the enemy didn't get a foothold...
Something screamed through the air and detonated in the ranks of Second Squad and then everything went to hell.
***
They'd gone a hundred meters down the corridor, the sound of gunfire loud behind them, when Rory and Feliks both stopped to stare down one of the side corridors. "Fascinating," Rory said.
"Yes, amazing, truly amazing," Feliks nodded.
"We don't have time for this," Alannis turned back. "Marines are dying behind us to buy us time!"
"But..." Rory stared at her, "you don't understand, look." He gave a wave down the side corridor.
Alannis glanced that way. She blinked in surprise as she saw a line of crystaline pods, each of them four meters across or more, in a row that ran out of sight. Inside the nearest ones she could make out the forms of Ghornath, still and unmoving. She shivered, "What is it, some kind of burial?" More gunfire sounded behind them and then what sounded like an explosion. Shouts on her net told her they didn't have much time.
She pushed the two scientists ahead of her as they spoke, "Oh, no," Feliks said, "they must be some kind of stasis pods, that's what the recording said, after all, about leading their people."
Alannis froze in her tracks. "Wait, you mean there are thousands of Ghornath on this station?"
"Oh, no," Rory waved a hand. "That's silly. No there's got to be a few million at least. I mean, we've passed eight corridors so far, which look to run concentric rings around the station, each with tens of thousands of them inside. Just some rough calculations tells me... what, six million, you think Feliks?"
"At least," Feliks said, even as the gunfire got louder behind them. Chuni was well ahead of them. "And who knows how many more on the planets?"
"Wait, planets?" Alannis shoved them ahead of her as a bullet buzzed through the air past her helmet like a malignant wasp. She listened with an absent ear as the remnants of second squad fell back while first squad opened fire again.
"Oh, yes," Feliks said, "there voice mentioned entire cities. I would estimate that only the warrior caste of the Ghornath went into exile, the others were put into stasis or cryosleep to await their leaders return."
"Chuni, are you hearing this?" Alannis panted.
"Yes," she said. "More importantly, if those enemies behind us gain access to the throne, they will be able to lower the defenses, to kill billions while they sleep."
Oh, no, Alannis thought.
"Staff Sergeant Grable is down," someone shouted over the net.
"Crap," Alannis said. She shoved the two scientists forward and then turned.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Rory said, pausing.
"I'm going to buy you all as much time as I can," Alannis said. "Get up there, help Chuni to unlock this thing's defenses... or all of us are dead." As both scientists stood there, frozen, their faces hidden behind their helmets, Alannis wondered if the danger really registered to them. "Go!" Alannis shouted.
They ran. She jogged back to where the remnants of Second Squad had begun to form up, sheltered behind some machinery. "Status?" Alannis panted as she checked her weapon.
"Twenty percent ammunition," Corporal Wandry said. "Black on our heavies, everything but the plasma rifles, we haven't used those."
"Break them out," Alannis said. She wasn't too worried about damaging the station and the stasis pods were all sheltered down the side corridors. "Wounded?"
"I've got the wounded, ma'am," Gunny Tam said as he and two others from First Squad hurried in, dragging several wounded by their harnesses. "Three Marines down," he said, "One of them hit Staff Sergeant Grable with some kind of homing missile."
Shit, Alannis thought. "This is probably our best location to make a stand," she said. The alien machinery projected into the corridor, forming a natural choke point and providing cover from enemy fire.
She looked back towards where Rory and Feliks were running. They'd just exited the corridor, nearly five hundred meters away. Chuni was out of sight.
"First Squad, fall back to our position," Alannis said, "Use whatever heavy weapons you need to break contact."
"Roger, ma'am," Staff Sergeant Witzke said, her voice level despite the roar of gunfire. "First squad, grenades on my mark!" There was a slight lull in gunfire. "Now!"
The chain of explosions drove a billow of hot air down the corridor and gunfire stopped for a long moment.
First Squad began to stream past a moment later, several of them limping and a few dragging limp and wounded Marines behind them.
Alannis saw one of the limp Marines had a slung plasma carbine and she unstrapped it and checked it. The power pack showed a full charge and the indicators all glowed green.
She moved into position next to Gunny Tam. "Let's buy them some time."
***
Chapter XXI
The Throne of Kopal Pesh
The Sacred Stars
January 4, 2409
Things were going well, Hunter decided. The Enforcement station's defenses had engaged his scout ships, but the surviving crew from both ships should still be enough to overwhelm the defending humans. And if they did gain control over the system, then Hunter could eradicate the slave-race's home systems in a matter of days. That would erase the threat forever and it would save him the time of hunting down every refugee colony.
The overwhelming missile salvo had not yet materialized. In fact, thus far his force had managed the staggered arrivals of missiles with no issues at all. Soon the human ship would be in range and he could eradicate it. Everything was falling into place.
Kill the last of the humans, he sent to the scout crews, whichever one of you succeeds will be selected for evolution. He would need replacements for the deceased scout ship commanders anyway.
***
"What have you got?" Daniel asked as Forrest came over from his station.
"I've got a plan, sir," Forrest said.
"A plan?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, sir," Forrest said. "And we can check to see if it may work before we do it." Daniel nodded and Forrest tapped on his suit's control pad, which a moment later brought up a display. "Sir, we already know there's a long delay between these ships firing and being able to fire again. I've timed it and it ranges from forty-five to sixty seconds."
Daniel nodded. "Go on." The enemy ships continued to overtake them and in another ten minutes, they'd be in the Constellation's energy weapons range and in their weapons range not long after that.
"That's not a problem for them because they stagger their fire, even when these salvoes come in on the heels of each other, there isn't enough missiles to overwhelm them," Forrest said. "But what if we send enough to do that?"
"What are you saying?" Daniel asked.
"Those ships, all of them, can fire their main weapons or their defensive weapons. They can't do both at once since it's all coming from the same firing chamber, right? So what if we give them something to shoot at and follow that up with the Moljnirs?"
"You mean us," Commander Bowder grumbled. "You want them to shoot at us."
"Yes!" Forrest said. "And the Moljnirs can cover twelve thousand kilometers in forty-five seconds. We could launch twelve of them before they're ready to fire... if we go to rapid fire mode."
"All those ships firing at once will shred us before we can get off a shot," Commander Bowder shook his head. "We've already seen what happens, their weapons blast through our defense screens like they're not even there!"
"I know that, sir," Forrest said, "But we time it. We time our intercept for right when one of the defense salvos go in. They'll be able to fire some of their weapons at us... but not all."
"How do you propose to test this?" Daniel asked.
"We stagger launch all of our standard missiles, time their acceleration to match one of the larger defensive salvos, all but a handful of trailers. Those we set to go in right on the heels. We can double the weight of the biggest salvo if we time it right, almost a hundred missiles, all going in at the same time, followed by four of ours that hang back out of range until their fire is spent."
"That could work," Daniel nodded slowly. "But that'll expend all of our Mark V’s."
Forrest nodded, "And then we can't do that when we go in for our attack run."
"But we could fire some of our Moljnirs right before we close, they don't have incredible range, but they've got enough for that purpose," Commander Bowder muttered. When Daniel and Forrest looked at him in surprise he gave a shrug, "What, I can't say I like the idea, but I don't have any better ideas."
Daniel nodded, "You've picked salvos?"
"Yes, sir," Forrest said, highlighting two. "Both from the biggest weapons platform. One goes in in two minutes, the other in eight."
Daniel did the math quickly. If they turned back and accelerated towards the enemy, reversing their course right after the salvo, they could be in position for that attack run. "Let's try it," Daniel said. His gaze went to navigation, "Lieutenant Forsberg, plot an attack run coordinated with Lieutenant Perkins' data, if you please."
The Constellation's missile tubes began to fire and Daniel watched with a critical eye as Forrest timed the launches and accelerations to match the other salvo.
It might work, he thought. He saw right away that the priority targets for those missiles were the central destroyers, one of which might be the enemy command ship. Going for those made all sorts of tactical sense even if that weren't the case. Those four destroyers probably carried more weapons and better sensors, taking them out would hurt the enemy force more than killing any of the enemy corvettes or frigates.
But there was also a visceral fascination that Daniel felt watching the missile flight form up. Since they had no way to coordinate with the defense system's fire, Forrest's missiles kept their distance, coming in at a separate angle, though in parallel with the enemy salvo.
The actual engagement lasted only seconds, the combined missile salvos closing the last distance even as the enemy force fired desperately to stop them. Pinpricks of light heralded the deaths of almost a hundred missiles in the blink of an eye.
And then, plunging into the ionized gas remnants of their brothers and distant cousins, the four missiles Forrest had held back dove at the enemy formation.
The enemy saw them coming. The ships went into evasive maneuvers, but Daniel saw no intercept fire as they screamed in the final distance. The antimatter detonations seemed almost anticlimactic at that point. Tiny pinprick flashes and radar disruption that faded. "Hit, multiple hits!" Forrest crowed, "Woohooo!"
"What did we get?" Daniel asked.
Lieutenant Cassat replied more soberly, "Two destroyers and a frigate, sir. One clean miss, they picked it off when it tried to come around on a second attack."
Daniel sat back in his command chair. He didn't look over at the XO. This was his decision. The attack had worked. Three of the four missiles had made it through... what could twelve missiles backed by the Constellation's direct fire accomplish?
Yet the death of ninety-eight missiles suggested it would not be an easy fight. He'd have to take that hit, to deliberately allow the enemy to fire, in order to get that chance. This was his decision. He was Captain, he had to make the call.
"Lieutenant Forsberg," Captain Daniel Beeson said, "Initiate the attack run."
***
Chuni had entered the Throne Room with a sense of awe. The massive, spherical chamber could have housed a starship, yet the only contents was the bridge she stood upon, which led out to a suspended platform.
She started out on the bridge, a thin, narrow expanse that she was half-afraid would collapse under the combined weight of herself and her powered armor. Yet it remained as sturdy and solid under her feet as armored battle-steel.
Chuni discarded all hesitation as she heard a series of explosions behind her. These enemies, whoever they were, were killing her allies and friends. Honor bound her to finish this. She would not --she could not-- fail.
She raced along the narrow bridge, heedless of the drop to either side. As she drew near the platform, she could see that it held only one object, an odd, step-sided platform, only just big enough for a Ghornath to stand upon. Was this the Throne?
As she crossed the last of the distance, she came to a stop. What did she do? Chuni pulled out her ring, but there eas no flare of light. Tentatively, she stepped onto the platform. It had a finely wrought mesh of symbols, she saw, similar to the ones on her ring. With her upper limbs she touched those symbols, but there was no response. On the net, she heard shouts and her powered armor's sensors reported the discharge of plasma weapons down the corridor. The fight was growing desperate.
"Why won't you work?!" Chuni shouted and stomped on the platform. There was no response.
Rory and Feliks had arrived at this point, both of them panting. "That..." Rory gasped, "that bridge is not... structurally sound. No safety railing... definite no-no."
"Make this akaru thing work!" Chuni roared.
Rory stumbled back from her and then actually teetered on the edge. Feliks just blinked at her and fiddled with his datapad.
"Did you try turning it off and then on again?" Feliks asked.
Chuni let out an enraged roar and smashed all four of her fists down on the inside curve of the platform. The impact should have shattered the metal, but there was only a dull thud.
"Hold on!" Rory said, "Don't break it, our lives are on the line here too. Let me just take a look okay!?"
"Fine!" Chuni threw him the ring and straightened up to her full height. "But I swear to you, as Hycar, daughter of Hymat, last of the House of Annar, if you do not make this work, I will end you myself!"
As she said that, she felt an odd sensation wash over her. Her displays on her power armor flickered and died. Before she could shout in surprise, a coldness washed over her. Alien thoughts and sensations poured through her.
A wall of darkness welled up from underneath her, a foreign, oily, chilling thing that seemed to pour into her suit
She let out a scream as it rose up her chest and over her shoulders and up her neck. Her scream choked off as it poured into her open mouth.
***
Hunter felt something he had not felt in a very long time: fear.
The human missiles had come closer to victory than they could even imagine. With how tightly he controlled his ships, his captains lacked the autonomy to make decisions on their own and their understanding of the situation was problematic at best.
The four missiles they had slipped in behind the others had targeted his four most powerful ships... and he'd only barely been able to interpose a frigate between his vessel and the enemy missiles.
Yet their gamble had not fully succeed. He survived and now he had moved his ship firmly to the rear of the formation. Any further missile strikes would have to penetrate not just his ship's defensive fire but also the length of his formation.
And it seemed the humans realized that they were done. They'd reversed acceleration, which meant the human ship came at his force at increasing speeds. He could see the logic behind it. They'd timed their intercept to match the timing of a missile salvo from the caretaker defense stations.
It wouldn't save them, though. While he might not have the firepower to destroy the ship as the salvo came in, he could certainly finish them up with the follow-on shots. Even with the slow time to fire, he would be able to engage them before they cleared his range.
With their shields energy profiles adjusted to the human and slave-race exotic particle weapons, it would take many hits to even damage a corvette, much less his larger ships. He might lose one or two vessels, but the humans would not survive the engagement.
Hunter felt more worry for the wear on his ship's firing chambers than anything the humans could do. The plutonium cores were not designed for sustained firing, nor were the interiors of the firing chambers. Most of their engagements lasted two or three shots at most. The constant bombardment of missiles meant that all of his ships had fired dozens of times.
Worse, they'd engaged the slave-race's fleet multiple times and already stressed them.
Some of those firing chambers had reached dangerous levels and had to be shut down. On others the plutonium cores had become too depleted to generate a proper beam.
If his scout crews were unable to seize control of the Enforcer platform and shut down the caretaker defenses, then he might lose several of his ships withdrawing from their fire, simply because they'd have to push their weapons past safety limits to continue to fire them.
As the humans volleyed off the last of their missiles he saw their intent. They would hope to swamp his defenses and get some hits in with their own energy weapons before he killed them. They might save one or two of their anti-ship missiles to fire after he'd fired his interceptor fire on the main salvo, but their big anti-ship missiles were too slow to reach his formation before he could fire again and their smaller interceptor missiles would be too light to do significant damage. His best course of action was clear, then.
All ships, he sent out, tighten formation and prepare to engage the enemy.
***
Ensign Medica had spent the past few days studying the data that Feliks and Rory had dumped off on him. At first he had felt utter dejection. The two scientists had followed through on their statement and they'd visited and checked on his progress three times a day.
But Ensign Elvis Medica hadn't gone the engineering track because he wanted to impress women. He had a fundamental interest in engineering problems, and as he studied the data, he gradually began to see it as just that: an engineering problem.
These unknown enemies had somehow shoehorned human technology into producing a shield to defend their ships. Not only that, but they'd further adjusted their shield parameters to defend better against the exotic particle beams that the Constellation mounted.
Exotic particles were odd things. They behaved in manners that normal matter didn't. Some of them lost mass as they accelerated, or moved away from opposite polarity magnetic fields, while others created fields of negative pressure or even negative mass.
The particles that the Constellation used for its energy weapons had properties that generated negative kinetic energy. They had that by having negative mass, a concept that made Elvis’s head hurt on the best of days. The impact of negative kinetic energy on any object with mass was to cause it to rapidly expand… but the enemy shields had no mass. It appeared that the enemy's shield system manipulated that property to diffuse the majority of that energy transfer.
The thing was, the beam generator couldn't generate entirely non-baryon particles of a single type. It produced mostly the type that generated negative kinetic energy, because that was the most destructive and most easily used type.
It could be modified to produce other types, however... and Ensign Medica thought he knew how. Even better, he thought those other types could potentially bypass the enemy's shields, or at least hit them much harder if they'd been modified.
Ensign Medica held down the call button until one of the medics finally showed up. "You know," she scowled, "we're on battle stations, we're about to attack the enemy formation. If you're just wanting a snack or something, I might have to hurt you."
"I need to get to fire control, now!" Ensign Medica snapped. "I know a way to modify the weapons, it could make all the difference!"
***
As the Constellation dropped towards the heart of the enemy ships, Daniel glanced at his XO. "You seem quiet."
"Just considering the low probability of success and even lower probabilities of survival," Commander Bowder said with a flat smile. Something flickered behind his eyes and for just a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something else, but then he shrugged, "I want you to know, Captain, I respect you."
"Thank you," Daniel said. "You've been a fine officer."
"I--" The XO broke off as he listened to a message. "Let him try it." He looked back at Daniel. "Apparently Ensign Medica thinks he's found a way to modify our EPCs to be more effective against the enemy."
"Do we have time?" Daniel asked.
"He thinks so, I told fire control to let him try it," Commander Bowder said. He gave a grim smile, "What's the worst that can happen, after all?"
"Range in thirty seconds!" Forrest called out. He had already fired all but the last twelve of their Moljnirs, their accelerations dropped to their lowest settings in order to have them hit simultaneously with the other missile salvo and the Constellation's arrival at engagement range.
One of the hazards to this plan was that the missile tubes were pre-loaded, waiting only to fire. The missile tubes couldn't be protected as well as the ship's magazines and given the quantity of enemy firepower they were about to face, Daniel felt more than a little anxious. The hundred megaton antimatter warheads on each of the Moljnirs were as well-protected as they could be... but still a single hit in the wrong location could detonate one.
I really hope that Ensign Medica is done with his modifications, Daniel thought.
"Missile salvo overtaking us, we're in maximum engagement range for the EPCs,"
"Engage primary targets," Daniel said.
***
"Cover fire!" Alannis shouted as she dashed out of cover to grab a fallen Marine by his harness and pull him away from the line. She fired off the remainder of her magazine into the onrushing enemy as she did, barely aiming, merely trying to slow them as she sought to get the Marine back into shelter.
Two rounds struck her armor, and then a third one caught her on her hip. She bit out a scream as she felt the bullet slam into her. In an instant, she lost all strength in her legs and she fell back in agony.
She fumbled to reload as she saw the enemies advance on her. She had no more magazines left, she realized and she pulled her pistol out even as a shadowy form emerged from the smoke and chaos in front of her.
She froze as it rose above her. It was humanoid in appearance and no more than two meters in size, though glistening black armor shrouded it from head to toe, either part of its flesh or some kind of biomechaniod armor. There were no eyes or visor on its armored head, but she could see its head lower to stare at her all the same.
Alannis fired into it and the creature’s head exploded in a spray of ichor. The entire form collapse on her and she let out a scream of agony as the weight struck her wound. She saw movement behind the fallen creature and a dozen more just like it advanced through the gunfire.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, feeling tears and snot run down her face, Alannis leveled her pistol and took aim. She’d be damned if she didn’t die fighting.
***
Ensign Medica worked frantically on the generator. He had already modified the rear fire control generator, but that had only left him a minute to do the one in forward fire control. Needless to say, he’d been forced to take some short-cuts, which was why he really hoped that he didn’t screw this next part up.
From what he understood of the science, they created a non-baryonic particle stream, mostly made up of a gluon plasma, that the projectors then accelerated at the enemy. That gluon plasma contained negative mass and therefore generated negative kinetic energy upon impact, which on striking hull caused matter to rapidly expand, as even the constituent atoms ruptured and came apart.
Against the enemy shields, however, there was no matter with which to interact. The enemy shields could therefore entirely negate that impact, deflecting the entirety of the particle beam.
The tiny minority of Bose-Einstein condensate brought along by the beam, however, was another matter entirely. It was created as a byproduct, bosons created in the generation of the non-baryonic material.
Those particles had almost the opposite effect of the gluon plasma, and when they hit the enemy shields, they condensed into an implosion, explosion process that released a great deal of energy. Even better, the enemy's modifications to their shields should actually make them more susceptible to these particles.
Ensign Medica waved at the weapon's tech, "You, there! Spurlock, pull that piece!"
"Sir," Tech Spurlock said, "the manual says to never pull the regulator. It could cause the generator to explode."
"We don't have time for me to explain it all," Ensign Medica snapped. "If you don't pull that regulator, now, while I calibrate the flow by hand, then we might as well be throwing eggs at the enemy for all the good it will do. Pull that regulator now!"
To his credit, Spurlock didn't hesitate, he yanked the regulator even as Ensign Medica adjusted the particle stream generation by hand.
It wasn't designed for this. The regulator did prevent damage to the generator since the boson particles acted in a very different fashion from the standard stream... but for their purposes, the equipment should work... at least for a few shots.
***
The stream of exotic particles that lanced out from the Constellation's main batteries wasn't nearly as precise as it normally would have been. The boson particle condensate was actually rather diffuse.
As a result, Lieutenant Perkins' shots weren't grouped as well as they could have been, but the enemy helped by tightening their formation... and the very upgrades to their shields that should have deflected the exotic particles not only made them more susceptible to the modified beam, it actually attracted them.
Those shots hit the shields with devastating force and the targeted corvettes simply vanished as the modified particle streams ripped through the enemy's shield systems to then tear through the hulls. The two corvettes vanished and Forrest gave a whoop as he switched targets, this time splitting his fire between multiple ships.
He managed a second set of shots as they closed the distance. This time the cruiser's heavy exotic particle beams ripped through the corvettes, smashing aside the small vessel's shields and gutting the craft with each hit.
The enemy formation didn't break, but the sudden destruction of their forward vessels through them into confusion as ships jinked to avoid debris and explosions.
And then the wave of missiles came in on the enemy formation.
***
With the sudden losses to his forward vessels, Hunter saw no choice but to put everything he had into defending against the missile swarm. The hated human cruiser continued to kill his ships with their modified weapons but the missiles could do far more damage if he didn't stop them all.
Focus fire on the missiles, he sent to his ships, engage with all weapons, even the damaged ones.
The missile swarm came in and the enemy cruiser fired a third time, but his ships opened up in turn. They focused on the missiles as ordered and he felt an almost-physical pain as three of his corvettes and one of his frigates vanished, immolated by their own weapons... but their fire swept every single enemy missile out of space. He felt a grim satisfaction as the detonations of the antimatter warheads of the humans faded... until he saw the enemy cruiser launch twelve more missiles.
Foolish, he thought as he sensed those launches, fired in rapid sequence. The big, heavy missiles were built for endurance, not speed. They couldn't cover the distance and he only needed forty-five seconds for his lead ships to be able to fire.
I have you, he thought.
Then the missile drives went active and horror replaced all other emotions.
***
Forrest hadn't missed how one of the enemy destroyers had dropped back in the enemy formation after his missile attack. He had pegged that one as the probable enemy command ship and tagged it for two of his Moljnirs in the follow-on attack.
The Moljnirs were bastardized weapons. They'd been developed for a very specific target situation and like most of the Constellation's systems, they were crafted out of a strange mix of Ghornath, Nova Roman, and Dreyfus Fleet technology. They were outwardly very similar to the standard Mark V’s, save for the fact that their drives had been ratcheted up for maximum acceleration. The huge antimatter warheads remained the same, but the missiles could achieve an acceleration of four hundred kilometers per second squared. From the time that the first four launched to the last four, the twelve missiles only needed thirty seconds to cross the distance to the enemy formation... and Forrest had picked the targets very carefully.
"Got you," Forrest smirked as those twelve missiles lanced out, faster than he could see, at their final trajectory traveling faster than the human brain could really comprehend.
***
Hunter saw the missiles coming in and in that heartbeat, he saw the doom of his fleet. He didn't have time to fire, his ships could try to evade but the human fire had already thrown them into confusion and the detonations of those warheads within his tight formation would shatter his ships' cohesion.
I have lost, he realized with shock.
Orders? One of his lieutenants asked.
Flee, Hunter sent, to all his ships, flee for your lives.
And then two Moljnir warheads detonated in close proximity to his ship, vaporizing it and wiping away every trace of his existence in two hundred megatons of nuclear fire.
***
The blackness that enveloped Chuni seemed to eat its way into her mind. At first she recoiled from the cold, alien thoughts, drawing deeper and deeper into herself... until there was nowhere left to go.
She could feel it, burning its way through her, an icy, black fire that sifted through her memories, her decisions, and seemed to devour every bit of her like a hungry scavenger, picking the meat from the bones of her very existence.
Chuni couldn't fight it, there was nothing for her to fight, no substance, nothing that she could push at or leverage. It was like fighting mist or sand, the more she pushed at it, the more it slipped around her.
And then, at the very bottom of her mind, she finally planted her feet. No, she thought, I will not be consumed. People were counting on her, people were dying so that she could do this. She would not give up, she would not surrender.
The darkness surged forward, as if to test her resolve, but she drove every bit of her being into standing her ground. As it washed over her, she held firm and as the cold fire tried to burn her, instead, she seemed to ignite and burn it.
The darkness let out a shriek and in between one heartbeat and the next, it burned. It flared into a white-hot fire that burned through her. All at once she saw every memory, every decision, her petty flaws and the times where she had lived up to her legacy...
She saw Rastar for what he was, a good and noble warrior. She saw Alannis Giovanni as a fellow warrior and friend.
And that lens of fire turned outwards. She could sense everything aboard the station. The Enforcer Platform, a quiet voice informed her in her mind. With those words she understood its capabilities… and its purpose. The Protectors had built the Enforcer Platform for their own use, to regulate and defend the Sacred Stars. Yet they had left it as a legacy, a last means of protecting the race they had watched over for so long. Princess Hycar saw that it was left for her, for the last in the House of Annar... to defend her people.
She sensed the overwhelmed Marines and their impending doom... and she reached out with the power the Protectors had left for her.
In a heartbeat, the invaders were wiped away, incinerated by the defenses.
She reached out with her mind, then, feeling the enemy fleet, sensing their velocity and vector and she drew upon the same raw energy within the Enforcer Platform that had shattered Argolim.
Hycar could sense the missiles headed towards the enemy ships and she was not about to rob her allies of their kill, that would be a dishonor to them.
She could however loose her wrath upon the other invader ships. As the Constellation's fire and missiles smashed the heart out of the enemy formation, she tapped into a tiny spark of the energy contained within the Enforcer Platform... and the fleeing enemy ships were swept away, liked motes of dust in the way of a powerful storm.
***
Chapter XXII
The Throne of Kopal Pesh
New Ghornath Empire
January 4, 2409
Lieutenant Perkins picked his way through the wreckage as medics went to work on the Marine wounded. There were more survivors than he had initially feared, many of them buried under the remains of their foes.
It seemed their mysterious enemies had been so driven to stop Empress Hycar's ascension, they hadn't even delayed to finish the wounded.
They had hoped to learn more about the enemy, but so far even their remains offered little. On death, it seemed their armor released some powerful enzymes, liquifying the flesh within and the resulting mess of fluids had quickly begun to rot.
Whatever they were, they stink, he thought absently as the medic led him to his target.
"Ensign Giovanni," Forrest said, "I'm told you have refused to allow yourself to be evacuated."
"Not until they..." she shook her head, her eyes unfocused, "not until they get the rest of the platoon."
Forrest gave a look at the medic who rolled his eyes, "The worst of the wounded have already been evacuated, sir. We're doing what we can for her here, but..."
He didn't need to go on. Forrest had seen enough wounds, enough bad wounds, to know that Alannis wasn't going to last much longer without some serious medical attention. That was, after all, why Captain Beeson had sent him over.
"Alannis," Forrest said gently, "your Marines are good, it's time to take care of yourself. The shuttle is waiting on you, the longer you stay here, the more risk you put your people in."
She blinked at him and then slowly she gave a nod, "Okay..."
The medics moved in and had her up and on one of their stretchers before she could change her mind. Forrest moved along with them as they pulled her back to the shuttle. "How's Gunny doing?" She asked.
"He'll live," Forrest said. Gunnery Sergeant Tam had taken several hits, but the tough Marine had stoicly walked aboard the shuttle under his own power.
"I got too many of them killed," Alannis muttered to herself.
"No," Forrest reached out and clasped her hand, "Don't you dare tell yourself that. You did a fantastic job. You held the enemy and Chuni... that is Empress Hycar... activated the station."
She didn't respond, but she held onto his hand. Forrest wasn't in any rush to pull it back. With how pale she looked from blood loss and how fragile she seemed, he felt very protective of her.
"Thank you," Alannis said after a long moment. "And thank you for being there after... after Ashtar died, too."
"Not a problem," Forrest said, feeling his throat close up a bit. She'd been through hell, and she was thanking him. He had seen what fighting like this was like. He still saw flashes of the fighting from the Dreyfus Coup in his nightmares. He knew exactly the kinds of demons that she had to face right now... and here she was trying to thank him.
As they went up the ramp for the shuttle, she craned her head, sensing something different.
"Cryosleep," Forrest said, "they moved the pods to the shuttle for the worst off of the wounded."
Her eyes went wide and she shook her head, "I don't want that!"
"Sorry, Ensign, I've no time for argumentative patients, I've had it up to hear with stubborn Marines," Lieutenant Wohlberg said as she jabbed Alannis in the neck with an autoinjector.
As the Ensign's eyes rolled back in her head, Forrest looked up in surprise. "Don't worry, she'll be right as rain when she wakes up," the ship's surgeon said. "Safe and sound and probably in a level three intensive care hospital back in the Faraday system. Until then, she's staying under and I'm putting her on ice. We haven't the facilities to treat that level of injuries."
She gave him a nod, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've other patients to attend to besides your girlfriend."
She turned away before Forrest to could tell her that Alannis wasn't his girlfriend.
***
Ensign Medica lay back in his sickbay berth. The past day had been relatively horrid. The radiation exposures he'd been subject to with the beam generator casing open had required a full flushing of his system, which given the loss of his legs had been an uncomfortable and undignifying situation to say the least.
He had severe burns across his face and arms, but the tissue damage was stable and responding to the healing treatment... which meant that severely wounded Marines had precedence. That, in turn, meant he would spend the months-long journey to Faraday on pain medication, in relative isolation and covered in anti-viral, anti-bacterial goop in order to prevent infection.
When he eventually got home, he would have months of rehabilitation in order to be able to walk again. But I saved the ship, he told himself, that makes this all worthwhile.
"Ensign," one of the medics said from outside his isolation tent, "you've got visitors."
Even before he looked over, he felt a sense of dread.
"Ensign Medica," Rory gave a friendly smile and a cheerful wave, "you look terrible!" The scientist looked at the medic and said in a loud voice, "He's not contagious, is he?"
"I can hear you," Ensign Medica said. "And I'm not sick, just burned."
"Oh, right, from modifying the beam generator," Rory nodded. "Say, you have had them check your... uh, reproductive organs, right? The radiation coming off the inside of that generator is pretty impressive."
Ensign Medica closed his eyes and counted to ten. He opened them again, and unfortunately, the two scientists were still there.
"Well, I can tell you're moved by us coming to visit you," Rory said. "We just wanted to congratulate you for that work you did. I mean, Feliks and I had figured you were relatively smart, otherwise we wouldn't have given you those tasks, but putting that data together and modifying the beam generator... that's really incredible."
"Thanks," Ensign Medica muttered.
"Yes," Feliks nodded, "you are almost as smart as we are."
"Now, Feliks," Rory shook his head, "I wouldn't get too energetic in our praise. I mean, he did a passable job modifying the beam generator, but I'm sure either of us could have easily managed that with the data set."
"Hold on!" Ensign Medica protested, "You both said it would be impossible!"
"Ah, no," Rory shook his head, "I actually said it would be impossible to do without running the data."
Feliks nodded, "We thought we could do it, but we were working on other projects."
Ensign Medica's jaw dropped, "But if you could have done it, why not?"
"Well, for one thing, we figured it would slag the firing control systems... which it did," Rory said with a smirk. "They'll have to tear out all of the firing control runs and replace them. For that matter, Feliks and I have a running bet on whether they'll have to scrap or completely rebuild the beam generators."
"Almost definitely scrap," Feliks nodded. "The ionizing radiation that your modifications produced have irradiated the metal far beyond safe usage and destroyed entire sections of molecular circuitry."
"Well, we'll just have to see, won't we," Rory said. "I still think the integrated gluon plasma generator is functional, but we won't know that until we do a full teardown."
"Yes, but while it may function it will not function as intended..." Feliks shook his head. "You've no head for the detail work."
"And you lack perspective on the big picture," Rory waved a hand, "Anyway, we figured you would need some cheering up, what with having been barbecued after losing your legs. Since we'd underestimated your intelligence before, we brought down a lot more for you to work on, you know, to keep you distracted. Captain Beeson seemed thrilled by the idea of us spending time down here with you. Since we have a few months journey back to the Faraday system, we want you to start going over the design of this shield emitter we recovered from the wreckage at the Enforcer Platform..."
***
"Captain Beeson," Fleet Consul Maygar said with a friendly bellow, "I wish to again extend the gratitude of my entire race for your assistance. I think you can tell Emperor Giovanni that I consider the loan of a ship repaid in full."
They had better be, Daniel thought to himself. Yet despite the losses to his crew and damage to his ship, he had to admit that the price was worth it. Burbeg and the Goronto had escaped their pursuit and linked up with the survivors of the Ghornath Fleet. They had arrived only a day after the battle, surprised to find their new Empress awaiting them.
Empress Hycar had not just reclaimed her ancestral worlds, she had awoken over fifty billion of her loyal subjects from stasis. Many of them weren't very clear on who these "humans" were, but they were all too grateful for their assistance in the return of their ruling dynasty.
With those fifty billion subjects came factories, farms, warships, and weapons, all of it carefully looked after for the past ten thousand years. The Ghornath fleet would be stronger than it had ever been before... and their empire would be allies to the United Colonies.
Not bad for the loss of eight Marines and three shuttle crew, he told himself, yet the sentiment felt hollow. Eight Marines had died. They had died fighting a foe whose origins and motives they still didn't know... and they had died under his command.
"Thank you, Fleet Consul," Daniel nodded in reply. "I take it the Empress is still getting settled into her new duties?"
"Indeed," Fleet Consul Maygar said with a nod. His weathered hide darkened with pride. "I am told that the stories of the fight on the Throne have already spread to all corners of our Empire. There is already talk of a monument honoring the sacrifice of your warriors."
"I appreciate that," Daniel said. Not that it will bring them back, he thought, but they'd appreciate it too.
"We've finished repairs, the Constellation departs on schedule," Daniel said.
"You have already informed your nation what occurred here?" Fleet Consul Maygar asked.
"I did," Daniel nodded. In fact, the reports had flown back and forth over the ansible, with the first one from him being a notice that someone had the ability to tap into ansible communications. From what he understood, they were looking at methods to mitigate that risk, but it wasn't going to be a quick fix. "Have we learned any more about our enemies?"
Fleet Consul Maygar shook his big head, "No, they remain as mysterious as ever. We have put samples of the wreckage aboard your ship as requested. Hopefully your scientists will be able to make more of it than ours have."
Daniel nodded and though he didn't discount the skill of the Ghornath scientists, he thought that if anyone could make sense of it, then Rory and Feliks could.
"I also bear a gift, for Princess Giovanni, who I understand was injured in defending the Empress," Maygar said. "She wishes that she had the opportunity to say her farewell in person, but I convinced her that her duties too precedence over a farewell to someone in cryosleep."
Daniel nodded, though he privately thought that saying farewell in person would have meant more, even if Ensign Giovanni wouldn't see it, the rest of the crew would. Fleet Consul Maygar held out a small wooden box, the surface enscribed by symbols. "This is a gift and a token of friendship for her. The Empress will not forget that the time she needed to activate the Throne was bought and paid for by United Colonies Marines... and by a Giovanni."
Daniel took the box, but he didn't open it. That would be for Ensign Giovanni to do. "Thank you, I'll give it to her when she's out of the hospital." Daniel stepped back and gave the old warrior a sharp salute. "Good luck, Fleet Consul, and please give my regards to the Empress."
"And you, Captain," Maygar returned the salute with one of his own. "Please give my regards to your Emperor."
***
Epilogue
Minder finished his communion with his superiors and then slowly, tiredly, settled into his chair. Things had gone very badly out on the rim... but not as badly as they could have.
Fortunately while Hunter had failed, he had at least left no clues to the origins of their forces. Minder's agents had seen no signs of fleets massing to move on his strongholds. Furthermore, Minder had managed to show that it was Hunter's incompetence that had brought failure. He had gone far outside of Minder's orders, to the point of driving the humans into a desperate gamble rather than simply quietly killing them from ambush.
The fact that his superiors had evolved Hunter against Minder's preferences was a mark in his favor. They were unhappy with him, but they at least saw that Minder had done his part and that their interference had brought the failure.
The new fleet commander has arrived, his subordinate sent.
A moment later, Sidewinder came into his offices. Minder, he sent, I am ready.
Minder felt pleasure at the strength of Sidewinder's mental voice. His prodigy had grown, had become sharper and more independent. It always made him feel good to see one of his select offspring progress.
We have begun assembling a new strike force, Minder sent, and relayed the mental images of the fleet they were putting together. We cannot face the Enforcement Platform on anything resembling favorable odds, but the humans are another matter.
Minder had stockpiled components and armaments for decades for such an eventuality. His forethought was one more reason his superiors had left him in power. This was a setback, but it was one he could recover from. Your force will be more powerful than Hunter's was, Minder sent.
There were complex reasons for that... one of them being that their masters didn't trust them with a truly large fleet. How could they when we are almost another species?
What will my first target be? Sidewinder's mental voice was eager. Good, he would need that eagerness to deal with the host of problems that Hunter's incompetence had left.
This human, Minder sent him a mental image, he has begun to collect items of extreme danger. You will find him and stop him at all costs.
He sent everything he knew about Reese Leone, including his former relationship with the Giovannis. Minder spared some of his mental capacity to consider whether it was by happenstance or design that this threat had such close ties to the other.
I will not fail, Sidewinder sent, I will find him and destroy him and his works.
***
Faraday Colony
United Colonies
March 11, 2408
Alannis sat up as her brother stepped into the hospital room. "Feeling better?" He asked.
"Much," Alannis said. Though in truth, everything from when Forrest Perkins had talked her into going along with the medics onwards until she woke up in the hospital here was simply blank space. It was as if she'd gone to sleep then and woken up now... which was probably better than others experiences. She'd heard that poor Ensign Medica spent the rest of his trip being harassed by Rory and Feliks and she wouldn't wish that upon anyone.
"Ready for your next assignment?" Lucius asked.
Alannis felt a mix of dread and excitement. Was she really ready for this? She had nearly died and she had lost eight Marines under her command. Could she really go back into all that? She found herself nodding, "I'm ready?"
Lucius gave her a smirk, the same kind of older-brother expression that had always driven her nuts. It was a mix of big-brother pride and at the same time arrogance. As a child she'd longed to wipe it off his face, now it felt strangely reassuring. "Well, then, Lieutenant Giovanni, here's your orders, fresh from Fleet Command, I picked them up on the way here, along with these."
He tossed the folded set of orders to her... along with the shiny lieutenant bars. "We can do a full promotion ceremony when you're on your feet again."
Alannis's throat constricted a bit. She let out a tense breath, "Thanks."
"I didn't do anything at all," Lucius said. "You earned that, along with a few awards to add to your collection. If anything, I should be thanking you, not only for paying off my debt, but for finding us such a powerful ally. Empress Hycar has already opened discussions for mutual protection treaties and we're talking about joint patrols in the unclaimed systems along the rim." He smiled a bit, "Thanks to Captain Beeson's work, we've also completed initial discussions with Sapphire about annexation."
"Oh?"
Lucius's eyes narrowed, "I gather that James Copely has quite the list of crimes to his name, but he has done an acceptable job of cleaning up his act since Captain Beeson's first arrival there. We'll be keeping a close eye on him, but so long as he keep his nose clean and the Sapphire Colony stays legitimate, we'll probably bring them into the United Colonies."
Alannis thought about the slaves she'd seen shackled there and she shivered. "If you say so."
"It's not an easy decision, trust me," Lucius said, "But bringing them in gives us a chance to clean their act up, and it also gives us a good strategic base down that way as well as some vital intelligence," His gaze went to the windows, outside of which the city sparkled in the sunlight. "Speaking of which... we've learned what Reese was doing there."
Alannis felt her heart race, "Really?"
"Seeking out alien artifacts, apparently," Lucius said. "Artifacts on the prohibited list, most of which are listed as severe hazards. I've already ran the list past Rory and Feliks, and the two of them were quiet for the first time since I've met them."
"We have to stop him," Alannis said. Whatever Reese was up to, he'd killed Fleet personnel to achieve it and he probably wouldn't hesitate to kill more people.
"We will," Lucius said. "Those orders assign you to the Constellation as assistant tactical officer. The Constellation is still in refit, but once you and she are fit for duty, you're going after him."
Alannis nodded, "I can't wait."
"No, you can wait," Lucius said. "As soon as you're on your feet, which the doctors assure me will be by later today or early tomorrow, you're going to come home and spend some time with your son. He's old enough to understand you've been in the hospital and some of what that means. You will spend time with him and you will put all this in the background and enjoy yourself... and that is an order, understand?"
Alannis gave a sheepish nod, "Yeah, I understand."
"Good, now get better, there's lots of work to do."
***
Commander Bowder snapped to attention and saluted as he stopped in front of Captain Beeson's desk. He didn't know what the formal summons was about, but he had his suspicions.
"Commander Bowder," Captain Beeson said with a smile, "I'm happy to inform you that Fleet Command has responded to my suggestions on personnel assignments."
He passed over a crisp, folded set of orders. "Congratulations, Captain Bowder, on your promotion. It is well deserved."
He felt more than a few mixed emotions over the news. On the one hand, his work here wasn't done, not by a long shot. He'd put too many hours into the Constellation to just walk away. His first impulse was to turn down the promotion... yet he knew that would be the deathknell to his career. If he showed that he didn't have the confidence to take the promotion then Fleet Command would be left with no choice but to run him out, how could they trust him to maintain his position if he couldn't move upwards?
"Thank you, sir," he finally said, "it's somewhat bittersweet leaving the Constellation, I don't quite feel that my work here is done."
"Work is never done, my friend," Captain Beeson said. "There's always more to be done. Congratulations and I'm sure the crew will give you quite the send-off."
He nodded in reply and turned away without saying more. He kept a pleasant smile on his face all the way back to his quarters... until he had his hatch closed.
The crisp paper of his orders crumpled in his fist. Damn it, he thought, this is the last thing I wanted. He took a calming breath. He had never expected to be trapped into Commander Brian Bowder's identity after he had killed the young officer and taken his place, shortly after the coup. The convenient deaths of the majority of the late Commander's associates and friends had proven too useful and opportunity to pass up, however, and his very lack of an established identity meant that he needed one to fall back upon when Admiral Dreyfus’s coup attempt had failed.
He had carefully cultivated the dour and boring outward appearance of Commander Brian Bowder. He had done everything he could to make certain that he didn't stand out, that he was competent but not outstandingly so, to stay as relatively anonymous as he could be while still having the power and reach to do what he needed.
Yet the Constellation had been a step too far. The ship had won a great victory and had reaped the rewards of that victory. He had come to the ship to learn as much as he could about the leaders he opposed... and he had learned a great deal. But now they would force him into a position where he couldn't hide. In Captain Beeson's shadow, he'd been able to act relatively freely, confident that Daniel Beeson's charisma and personality could be a shield for his actions.
Recruiting for his conspiracy as the Captain of his own ship would be much harder. He didn't have his network in place, yet, and the handful of recruits he had made weren't positioned to do much, even if he had fully trusted them.
Yet he had to move forward with the plan. He would take this setback in stride. It would accelerate his timeline, but at least now he wouldn't have to worry as much about tipping his hand to those who had been integral to uncovering Dreyfus's plot.
At least with his promotion came better access to resources, intelligence, and personnel. The day would come when Daniel Beeson regretted his recommendation for promotion. Not that he felt any personal animosity to him... or for Lucius either, for that matter. They were just in the way and he would remove them to create a better, safer future.
He set the promotion papers on his desk and carefully smoothed the wrinkles out of it. Already he had concocted an amusing story about an accident with the laundry, one that would go well with Commander Bowder's sardonic humor.
His mind went two, four, ten steps ahead as he considered his next moves.
***
“Hey, Ally, how you doing?” Forrest asked.
“Ally?” Alannis asked somewhat taken aback by his familiar tone.
“Well,” He shrugged, “I heard about your promotion and since we're the same rank, it's no big deal if I call you by first name. Alannis seemed a little formal... though now that I think about it, most Nova Romans do have a stick...” He trailed off and cleared his throat, “That is, you can be a bit formal sometimes.”
Despite herself, Alannis gave a laugh. “I take your meaning. I've... always just been Alannis.”
“Well,” Forrest said, “if you'd prefer, I could call you Alannis, I guess.”
She thought about that for a long moment. Her brother had always called her Alannis. But her brother could be formal and polite to a fault. Reese, too, had always referred to her by her full name. Now that she considered it, he'd never been one for pet names. “No,” Alannis said, “I kind of like it.”
“Great,” Forrest said. “Now, I'd heard you got a clean bill of health, you'll be out of here today, right?” When she nodded, he gave a crooked grin, “So... care to grab dinner?”
Alannis blinked at him, “What... like a date?”
Forrest coughed, “Well... if you want to call it that, who would I be to argue, right?” As she flushed a bit, he gave her a more gentle smile, “Look, when you were wounded, you said some things... we said some things... that maybe needed to be said. I know it was in the heat of the moment and I know that I'm not really fit for a princess, mind you. But...” he shrugged and she could see that despite his confident expression, this wasn't easy for him, not by a long shot, “For a night, I'll pretend you're just a woman and officer I respect and not a princess and maybe you could do the same?”
“Well,” Alannis smiled, “It would be a bit hard picturing you as a princess, maybe if I squinted a bit...” She laughed at his expression, “Sure, Forrest, that would be nice.”
“Great, I'll pick you up at seven,” he said. He stood awkwardly for a moment, “uh, see you later, I guess.”
“Yeah, see you later,” Alannis said as he walked out. She had a warm feeling in her stomach. Ashtar Shan had been right, she saw. It was time and past time that she moved on from Reese.
Not that she was about to let him run loose. Lucius had told her that the Constellation's next mission would be to find out what Reese and his mysterious patron were up to. She'd be going on that mission... and she wasn't about to let her ex-husband continue to sow chaos in his wake.
Now was a time for rest and recuperation, though. She'd see if that spark she felt for Forrest could grow into anything more. She'd spend time with her son. Maybe she'd be able to move past his resemblance to his father. She'd get herself where she needed to be.
And then, she thought to herself, Reese is going to pay for the lives he's taken.
###
The End
The Shadow Space Chronicles Continues with The Temple of Light
About the Author
Kal Spriggs is a science fiction and fantasy author. He currently has four series in print: The Renegades space opera and space exploration series, the Shadow Space Chronicles military science fiction and space opera series, the Fenris space opera series, and the Eoriel Saga epic fantasy series.
Kal is a US Army combat veteran who has been deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. He lives in Colorado, and is married to his wonderful wife (who deserves mention for her patience with his writing) and also shares his home with his infant son, two three feline overlords, and a rather put-upon dog. He likes hiking, skiing, and enjoying the outdoors, when he's not hunched over a keyboard writing his next novel.