Fulcrum Gun (Savage Stars Book 4)

by Anthony James

  He followed trail after trail and eventually found what he was looking for.

  “The construction yard,” he said. “Lieutenant Burner, I’m sending you the details.”

  “That’s less than six hours from here, sir.”

  Recker pushed the controls hard forward and the Fulcrum accelerated. “Set a course,” he said, switching the propulsion to mode 2. The battleship’s velocity gauge climbed like it would never stop.

  “Course set,” said Eastwood. “The ternium drive is warming up.”

  Having spent what seemed like forever flying from place to place, hoping to stay one step ahead of the Galactar, Recker found himself struggling to restrain his newfound optimism. The Retribution project wasn’t even completed and it seemed more likely that the construction yard was in ruins, especially since the Meklon were gone from this area of space.

  Whatever the problems, Recker was set on this new course and determined to see where it would lead.

  Chapter Nine

  At the beginning of the six-hour flight, the simulator output predicted that the Galactar was potentially five hours behind, still without taking into account the lightspeed transitions of the seventy-eight transports. The estimation was unexpectedly low and from Eastwood’s expression, Recker guessed that his engine man was heartily sick of the simulator’s apparently anomalous results.

  “It’s tempting to delete the software and just do what we’re doing, sir.”

  Recker agreed. “Don’t delete it, but don’t use it again unless I tell you otherwise. I’ve also had enough of it.”

  “I hoped you’d say that.”

  “Me too,” said Larson. “I’ve been thinking too much about estimated times and simulated probabilities. It’s a distraction.”

  The other members of the crew made similarly affirmative noises and Recker felt a weight lifting. He could deal with unknowns – when he had no choice – but when a computer program began taking ever-changing guesses at the minutes by which his life was measured, then it simply added unnecessary pressure to an already stressful situation.

  With the order given, Recker vended a drink and a tray of nutritionally balanced mush from the bridge replicator. The walls nearby were still caked in Lavorix blood and he idly scraped some off using the toe of his boot.

  Once at his station, he renewed his search of the Meklon top-secret data, spooning in bland pap from his tray as he did so. The aliens had been constructing a prototype weapon and Recker found a series of 3D models which he studied for a time.

  “Looks purposeful,” said Aston, when she called up the same files.

  “It does,” said Recker, scanning through the extensive list of associated documentation. “Like it could put a hole clean through a small moon.”

  In appearance, the device – named Tri-Cannon by the Meklon – was little more than an enormous turret, with a main housing almost fifteen hundred metres wide, eighteen hundred long and with a height of a thousand. Barrels protruded from three openings in the sloped front face. The centre barrel was two thousand metres in length with a two-hundred-metre bore, while the side barrels were twelve hundred metres long, but with a three-hundred-metre bore.

  Four rows of four launchers occupied the flat, top plate of the Tri-Cannon, with the size of the ejection chutes suggesting they held something that packed a punch. Recker opened the technical specifications for the launchers and discovered they each carried a nuclear missile.

  “Nukes,” he said.

  “I guess every species goes through the same phase of discovering dirty explosives,” said Aston. “Then they find new and better stuff and the old crap gets forgotten.”

  “Until the shit hits the fan and they go back into the storage bunker and haul out the nukes again,” said Burner.

  “This Tri-Cannon looks like a kitchen sink kind of weapon,” said Aston. “Throw everything at the enemy and cross your fingers something works.”

  “I hope there’s more to it than that, Commander,” said Recker, continuing his forage through the tech specs. “The entire device operates from a permanently overstressed ternium power supply,” he said. “The two side guns fire projectiles that appear to be coated in the same overstressed ternium they used for the engines.”

  “I’m trying to figure out what the centre barrel fires,” said Aston.

  “I don’t recognize any of the…” Recker began. He leaned closer and stared at a four-by-four arrangement of modules housed inside the turret at the base of the centre barrel. “These might be mesh deflector generators,” he said. “I saw the one from the Vengeance when they extracted it.”

  “According to this file, the main gun is called Shield Breaker,” said Aston.

  Recker sat back. “It’s easy to get carried away looking at the intended result of the Meklon’s work,” he said. “Let’s not forget that it isn’t finished and even if it was, we don’t know how it operates.”

  “Nor do we know if it’s going to work,” said Eastwood. “The Meklon didn’t get a chance to test it.”

  “I don’t care - this Tri-Cannon gives us something to aim for,” said Recker.

  “Have the mission goals suddenly changed, sir?” asked Burner. “Just half an hour ago we were searching for a way home. Now, I get the impression you’re asking yourself how you can commandeer a prototype alien weapon and use it against what is far and away the most powerful warship we’ve ever encountered.”

  “I can’t settle for mediocrity,” said Recker. He laughed. “Sometimes I wish I could.”

  “The reason I ask about the mission is because the new star chart data tells me where the Meklon interstellar headed.”

  “Another Gateway?”

  “Yes, sir. I don’t know if the interstellar made it through, but they left for a Gateway that wasn’t on the Fulcrum’s standard star charts. It’s less than a day’s travel from here.”

  “I know I’m wasting my words by saying this, but we could use it to return to Excon-1,” said Eastwood.

  “It’s an option,” said Aston.

  “Who here thinks we should head for the Gateway?” asked Recker. “That’s a question, not a vote.”

  “You know we’re all going to say maintain course towards the super-weapon,” said Burner. “If we can destroy the Galactar before it reaches HPA space, it’s going to be a poke in the eye for the Lavorix.”

  “That’s exactly how I see the situation, Lieutenant.” Recker activated the motor on his chair and it swung around so he was facing his crew. “Any other input?”

  “The technical data is detailed enough that we could build our own version of the Tri-Cannon,” said Eastwood. “So even if we head through the Gateway, we’re not abandoning our chance of copying the weapon.”

  “Something like that will take years to pull together, Lieutenant. Even with the head start offered by these Meklon documents.”

  “Four, maybe five years.” Eastwood shrugged. “Less if the underlying tech is similar enough to our own.”

  While they talked, Recker continued poking through the data files. He unintentionally stumbled upon something which made his blood run cold and he read it twice before bringing it to the attention of the others.

  “The Meklon have intel files on both the HPA and the Daklan,” he said. “The files contain lots of information.”

  “They did know about us,” said Aston.

  “This confirms it,” said Recker, opening a linked file. He closed his eyes for a moment when he saw the contents. “If I’m reading this correctly, they located several of our planets.”

  “Which ones?” asked Larson sharply.

  “It’s not clear, Lieutenant. Obviously the Meklon don’t know what we name our planets and I can’t identify them from the details I have here.”

  “What do they know about the Daklan?”

  “Plenty more than they know about us,” said Recker. “Planet locations, estimates of fleet size, estimates of fleet capabilities. Threat level.”

  �
�How did they rate the Daklan as a threat?” said Aston. “Out of curiosity.”

  “Low,” said Recker. “It’s not clear if that’s based on technological advancement or a combination of factors.” Something else caught his eye. “The file was first created forty years ago.”

  “What about the file on the HPA?”

  Recker checked. “The earliest date I can find is from thirty-five years ago,” he said. “They rated us as a low-low threat.”

  “Because we’re so friendly and all,” said Eastwood.

  “We’ve got better at warfare since then,” said Fraser dryly. “Maybe the Meklon should reconsider how they rate us, now that they’re extinct.”

  “Feeling underappreciated, Lieutenant?” asked Aston.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Anyway, the Meklon are only confirmed extinct in this sphere of their territory,” said Recker. “We know they hold – or held – plenty of other spheres.”

  “I doubt they’re thriving, sir,” said Burner.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” said Recker, continuing to read. He found something which made him swear. “The Meklon believe the Lavorix also know about the Daklan and the HPA.”

  “They already destroyed our planets, sir.”

  “More accurately, they destroyed targets from long range, Lieutenant Fraser. We have no evidence the Lavorix ever came to Fortune.”

  “Either way, it’s bad news,” said Aston. “I haven’t found any indication of motive yet. I’d be interested to learn why the Meklon and Lavorix are fighting.”

  “I’ve only found passing mention of it, Commander,” said Recker. “The Lavorix are apparently interested in life and that’s the only reason I’ve come across so far.”

  “You don’t write the history of a war while it’s still ongoing,” said Burner.

  “The Meklon have been fighting for a long time,” said Recker. “Some of these files are more than a century old. I’m sure the Meklon have plenty to say on the subject, I just haven’t found it yet.”

  “I doubt it’ll be documented in top-level military files, sir,” said Eastwood. He made a gruff sound and scratched at the buzz cut which had grown out days ago. “I guess this rules out any lingering thoughts you might have had about heading for that Gateway.”

  “That it does, Lieutenant,” said Recker. The confirmation about the extent of the Lavorix’s knowledge was still sinking in. “At some point – probably soon – the enemy will decide they no longer need to waste time hunting down the last few Meklon. At that moment, they’re going to turn their eyes and their fleet towards either the HPA or the Daklan.”

  “Let’s hope the Meklon are holding on in some of these other spheres,” said Burner.

  “If they were, do you think the Lavorix would have left the Galactar here? It’s overkill for a mopping up exercise.”

  Burner took a nonchalant swig out of whatever foul brew it was he’d obtained from the replicator. “In which case, we’d better blow it to pieces before we go through that Gateway for our triumphant homecoming.”

  “As easy as that,” said Aston.

  “I didn’t say it would be easy, Commander, but don’t forget - the Lavorix are dealing with the best. They’ll rue the day they messed with us.”

  “Damn right they will,” said Recker.

  He resumed his examination of the Extinction Protocol files. More time had passed than he’d realised and it wouldn’t be long before he’d be required to give the order to break lightspeed. Lieutenant Eastwood had already stated the journey deviation would be enough that a final, short duration lightspeed transit would be required at the end of it.

  In truth, Recker was becoming tired of the hoops he was having to jump through, yet they weren’t so onerous that he was willing to give up the method. Not while the Galactar was out there.

  When the time came, Recker gave the order and the Fulcrum exited lightspeed. There was no near miss with a planet, a star or anything else and, when the sensors came online, he was relieved to discover the battleship was far from anything.

  Further delay offered no benefit and he commanded the ternium drive be readied for the final, three-minute journey to a solar system the Meklon had named Darva-17. The data on the star indicated it was unremarkable, as were most of its satellite planets. Bar one – Ystarn – where Recker hoped to find something he could use against the Galactar.

  The lightspeed drive fired and Recker itched to find what state the Tri-Cannon had been left in. He was aware that if the Meklon were dead, then the weapon itself was likely destroyed with them - in which case, he would order the Fulcrum to the Gateway on the updated star charts.

  If escape were the outcome and the Galactar was left behind, active and undamaged, Recker doubted any of his crew would be pleased. None of them wanted to die, but they’d rather it happen fighting the enemy than have it come to them inevitably in the future. Any doubts Recker had that the Lavorix would savour their victory against the Meklon were gone. This new enemy was coming and when it happened, they’d be as ruthless against humanity and the Daklan as they had been against the Meklon. Recker was utterly determined to prevent it happening, whatever it took.

  A faint shudder and an increased droning from the propulsion heralded the imminent switch over to the sub light engines. Recker took the controls and readied himself. His intuition bells were ringing and he had no idea what they presaged.

  Chapter Ten

  The moment Recker felt the Fulcrum enter local space, he gave the engines full power and began evasive manoeuvres, while Burner and Larson waited for the sensors to come online.

  “Sensors up!” said Burner. “Starting the nears.”

  “Searching for Ystarn,” said Larson. “Got it! We came in on the nose, sir. Five million klicks from the surface.”

  “Nears finished – no threat detected,” said Burner. “Increasing search sweep radius.”

  The following seconds were tense and Recker didn’t reduce the battleship’s velocity until he was sure that nothing was close enough to fill the Fulcrum’s armour with missile craters.

  “We’re against the clock, folks,” he said, trying to keep the urgency from his voice. “Lieutenant Larson, focus on the planet. There’s a Meklon facility down there and the documentation doesn’t give us any more precise directions than that.”

  “On it, sir,” said Larson.

  Recker kept the Fulcrum at a steady thousand kilometres per second and piloted it in a tight circle which made the walls groan and caused his seat to creak faintly. Planet Ystarn wasn’t much to look at – a roughly Earth-sized sphere that was too far out from its sun to have a chance of life forming any time soon.

  The cold surface was part mountainous, part cratered plains of grey and red stone, while the atmosphere was predominantly nitrogen and carbon dioxide. All told, it was nowhere from which to send a lightspeed postcard home. And for some unfathomable reason, the Meklon had chosen Ystarn as the best place to construct a weapon they hoped would save their civilisation from the otherwise unstoppable Galactar.

  “I’ve located a base, sir,” said Larson. The dejection in her voice was an unwelcome note. “It’s not much to look at.”

  “Show me.”

  Larson didn’t need telling and she already had the feed up on the left side of the bulwark screen. Distance made the details indistinct, but not so much that it was difficult to evaluate the outline. “A ten-klick square of alloy with buildings around the perimeter,” she said. “I can see what looks like six transports parked around the edge of the landing strip.”

  “Massive transports,” said Eastwood. “They could have hauled in enough materials to build a couple of battleships in those things.”

  “I think these smaller shapes are shuttles, sir,” said Larson. “Probably designed for lifting, judging from their sizes.”

  “We’ve got transports and lifter shuttles, but no construction trench and no sign of a Tri-Cannon,” said Recker. Disappointment came in a surg
e. “Can you enhance the feed?”

  “Yes, sir. I don’t think it’s going to reveal anything we can’t see from here.”

  “I’d like to know if there are any bodies,” said Recker.

  “We’re too far away to detect anything so small.”

  “What about other bases? Have you completed your surface sweep?”

  “I’ve run a top-level scan over the entire visible side of Ystarn – anything significant and I’d have spotted it.”

  “Which means if there’s another base, it’s on the blind side of the planet,” said Recker.

  “Would you like me to plot you the most efficient course that will let us complete a whole-surface scan?” asked Burner.

  Recker didn’t answer for a moment while he considered the options. “Bring us out of silent running and find out if the base mainframe is operational,” he said at last. “Now that I’m on a new security tier, maybe it’ll answer questions.”

  “We don’t know if the Lavorix got here before us, sir. They could be listening,” said Burner. “I know this is meant to be top-secret Meklon stuff, but they either voluntarily abandoned the Tri-Cannon and went elsewhere, or they’re all dead. I know which one my money’s on.”

  “Sir?” asked Larson, waiting for confirmation on the silent running.

  “Hold for a moment.” Recker pursed his lips. “It’s strange how they parked those transports. There’s nothing in the central five-klick area.”

  “An underground facility?” said Aston.

  “Could be.” Recker reached for the controls. “Let’s find out what we can see at two million klicks.”

  Larson got in quickly with her next finding. “I’ve located several missile emplacements in the area surrounding the base, sir,” she said.

  Recker paused. “I’d expect every base to have surface defences.”