by B. V. Larson
Everyone on the command deck, except for Lorn of course, released a gasp of disgust.
Hands emerged from the creature on the screen. They moved to tap at controls rapidly.
“Identify,” it said.
“Lorn. Captain of Blaze.”
“This does not match our records. Your ship has been reported lost.”
“That’s right,” Lorn said, “I did lose my command. But I captured another and three more to support the first. This ship is my flagship, and I named her Blaze like my first command.”
All three eyes swiveled, looking around our command deck. We all sat in subservient positions, stayed quiet and wore collars.
Somehow, seeing this creature’s eyes move in perfect unison and hearing its odd voice, I knew that the brain buried inside that odd wad of meat was artificial.
“I require confirmation,” the creature said at last.
“Alas, I have none,” Lorn said. “The rest of my crewmen have all died.”
“In that case, you are denied entry into home space. If you disregard this prohibition, the penalty will be destruction.”
Lorn sighed. “I thought it might be so,” he said, “but I did hope to help protect the home world. Very well. I’ll wait until all the planets in this system have been annihilated before I take any further action.”
The trio of eyes roved the command deck again.
“Hold,” it said, and the screen went dark.
“Well, if that creature isn’t the most foul—” Rumbold began.
“Silence!” Lorn boomed. Before any of us could act, he stood up, took two strides to Rumbold and bashed him one across the face. “Do not speak again, dog!” he roared.
I saw Rumbold’s face redden. Blood ran from his mouth. He reached a hand to his belt, baring his teeth.
My hand pushed down his, and I shook my head.
Fuming, the helmsman slumped over his workstation in a quiet rage.
“That’s better,” Lorn said, standing above us. “The controller studies us, and I hope it will see how I run my ship full of defeated Basics.”
Rumbold looked alarmed.
We all looked back at the screen. It was dark, but a glimmer of gray still lit the edge of the projection zone. The channel was still open.
Looking up, we saw our cameras were blue-lit, meaning they were still transmitting.
We all sat like statues for three more long minutes—all of us, except for Lorn. He strode among us like an inspecting god. He shoved people aside, berated them for incompetence, smacked the backs of heads freely and chuckled when his victims winced.
I knew he was enjoying himself immensely. I would have put a stop to it if I could be sure the display was unnecessary—but I couldn’t be sure. If the controller, as Lorn called the creature he’d been talking to, really was observing us, then this act had to be convincingly played.
Lorn was certainly doing his damnedest to make it look real. He was in the middle of slapping Durris around when the screen brightened again.
“You have new orders,” the monster said after running its eyes over us all one more time. “You will proceed to these coordinates. You will fight to the death at that position. If you fail to comply in any way, you will be destroyed by missile bases.”
“That’s not—” Lorn began, but he trailed off.
The screen had gone dark. This time the cameras were turned off, the channel closed.
“Feed cut,” Yamada said, standing up. “Captain, I insist you throw that creature off the deck!”
“That’s right!” Rumbold said, heaving himself out of his chair. “Put him back in irons!”
“Ingrates, the lot of you!” Lorn spat back.
I quickly summoned my marines, and they escorted Lorn below where he sputtered and raged.
“An interesting display,” Durris said, coming up to me and rubbing at the back of his head. “Do you think any of that was really necessary?”
“It’s hard to know,” I conceded. “Lorn might have been enjoying himself, or he might have been behaving in a customary fashion.”
“Well, either way, we now have permission from the Stroj to assist in their defense. I can hardly believe we’ve worked so hard to save such an unpleasant people.”
He had a point, but history was full of times like these. In war, your allies weren’t always noble—or even likeable.
-52-
The variants had been content to allow us to watch them from a distance. They still ignored us as we moved sunward. They ignored all our transmissions as well, including threats, pleas and commands to cease their campaign.
I’d expected nothing else from them, but I’d thought it was worth a try. I used Halsey’s name, proclaimed myself the commander of Star Guard in this system and a dozen other ruses. None of these had elicited so much as a blip of response from the enemy.
But when we moved close to them, at a range of about ten million kilometers, they suddenly took notice.
“Captain,” Yamada called out from her deep-range sensor boards, “the variant fleet is changing course.”
“Commander Durris, plot their new destination,” I said.
“On it,” Durris said, scrambling to work with Yamada’s data.
He quickly came up with a projected cone of probability. It was hard to know exactly what they intended as they were on an angular burn that might end at any point, changing the final result.
“Looks like…” he said, frowning at the maps. “It looks like they’re going to come into far orbit around the Stroj home world.”
“I see,” I said, “let’s put our course on the map as well.”
Four green lines appeared, and they swiftly merged into one. The resulting course line represented our position and projected path. It became clear, as the data grew more precise, that the rogue variants were planning to intercept us.
“They’ll meet us outside the range of the Stroj missile bases,” Durris declared. “They’ve anticipated our move to join in the Stroj defense, and they’re trying to block us.”
I nodded, unsurprised. “Counter actions? What contingencies have you worked out?”
“Um…” he said, “I haven’t had time yet to—”
“Make time. I want answers. You and your staff have thirty minutes to provide them.”
Getting up and stretching, I decided to retire from the command deck. It would be several hours before our fleets were within range. Now would be a good time to take a break before things became heated.
Stepping toward my quarters, I felt a familiar tickle in my mind. My implant was ringing.
The identity of the caller scrolled over my retina. My eyes widened in alarm. It was Okto again.
How did she know I was off duty? I’d begun to suspect she was remotely spying on me, somehow. Her timing had been not only relentless but uncanny of late.
There was no doubt in my mind she was becoming obsessed with me. I could understand it, from the point of view of Beta psychology. Starship captains from her world had few prospects for mates. A man like me, who was of equal status, must have seemed like a rare opportunity to her.
Halting, I felt uncertain as to what to do. If I answered her outside the door of my quarters, she would notice and insist on accompanying me inside. If I refused to answer, it would seem rude, as we were allied captains about to participate in our first battle.
Yamada walked by me then as I stood indecisively in the passageway. She’d chosen to take the opportunity for a break from the command deck at the same moment I had, following my lead.
She gave me a friendly nod, and I reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. She paused, looking surprised.
“Would you accompany me inside for a moment?” I asked her.
“What?” she responded in alarm.
Some time ago, Yamada and I had had a misunderstanding with regard to our social status. She’d assumed I'd been pursuing her, when I hadn’t been.
I’d always found her attractive, but
I also knew that a relationship with a fellow command officer would adversely affect morale aboard the ship. Although such situations weren’t against formal Star Guard regulations, they were frowned upon.
“I have a call coming in from Okto,” I said, “stick around, follow me, and I’ll join you into the conversation.”
Yamada looked confused but nodded anyway. I touched the door to my quarters and simultaneously opened the channel with Okto.
The persistent woman took form directly in front of me. I selected options that would let her be fully aware of my surroundings. I then linked my implant with Yamada’s to share the conversation with her too.
Okto’s expression was predatory. She was wearing less than half her uniform and appeared to have just stepped out of some kind of sauna. I knew that Betas frequently enjoyed hot steam baths.
“Welcome back aboard my ship,” I said, “have you met Lieutenant Commander Yamada? She’s my most trusted assistant.”
Okto tore her eyes from me to stare coldly at the smaller woman.
I could tell from Yamada’s demeanor that she failed to grasp the situation. Then her confused expression shifted into one of mild amusement as she began to understand Okto's reason for contacting me.
“I’ll get right on that, Captain,” Yamada said as she slipped past me into my quarters.
She made certain to brush physically against my person as she passed by. The contact was stimulating and unexpected. I realized I had a natural smile on my face as I followed Yamada into my quarters.
Okto studied us, still without having spoken a word. Her expression had cooled.
“I can see you’re busy,” she said.
“Not actually,” I replied. “I was just having a private word with Lieutenant Commander Yamada before battle commences.”
“This privacy…” Okto began slowly. “Is it part of her required duties?”
The question was odd and somewhat shocking to me. “No, not at all.”
“I serve my Captain happily,” Yamada said, poking her head back out of my cabin and giving Okto a smile.
“I see,” said the towering woman, looking flushed and increasingly annoyed.
I dared to hope that she would drop the call with some excuse, but she didn’t. I don't think it occurred to her as an option.
“Captain Sparhawk,” she said, “I demand to speak to you alone.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is there something important that one of my closest officers shouldn’t hear? I trust her with my life.”
Okto studied each of us in turn. She seemed reluctant to close the channel, but at the same time, she didn’t know what else to say. I was beginning to feel embarrassed for her.
Yamada clearly didn’t share my compassion for the colonist. As I tried to close the communication, she walked up to me and casually snaked an arm around my waist.
I was mildly surprised, but I knew this move was for the best. It was important to let Okto know she wasn’t going to succeed in her attempt to seduce me.
“Duty calls,” Okto said suddenly. “We will continue this discussion later.”
“Very well,” I said in a tone I hoped sounded guileless and friendly. “I’m looking forward to our next meeting. May we both fare well in battle.”
Okto lifted her lip at Yamada and vanished, disconnecting from my implant.
“Wow. I thought she’d never leave. She’s a bit scary,” Yamada observed.
“Yes. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”
Yamada heaved a sigh then flashed a grin up at me. “That was fun. I think I was very convincing!”
I laughed. “You were indeed! Okto’s been plaguing me. You chased her off without breaking our delicate alliance and in a manner that I could never have managed unassisted.”
It was about then that I noticed her arm was still lingering, touching my waist gently.
We looked at one another, and the moment took over.
Having played the part of lovers, and having both entertained such thoughts in the past, it was easy to fall prey to our emotions. Yamada was small, intense and very real. Okto had been like a haunting ghost, a cold domineering figure that pursued me like prey.
She was exotic and sexually intriguing, of course, but the Beta woman had never quite drawn my imagination. I’d been running from her obvious hinting and posturing from the start.
I looked at Yamada again. I’d been in space for many weeks, and she’d always been present, a quiet partner in close proximity.
I’d always known she’d had a crush on me. I’d never taken advantage of the situation. But now, with both of us touching and laughing, I was overcome by the urge to embrace her.
We hugged. We kissed, we touched gently. For a brief period, my mind focused only on my physical need to be with her. All other thoughts melted away.
There was an urgency to our actions as we moved to my couch and began to run our hands over one another. She was smiling, and her eyes shined. Mine must have looked similarly affected.
But at that critical moment, I thought of Chloe. On my recent return to Earth, we’d made certain promises. Out in space, all that seemed distant, but I felt doubt come over me.
Spacers often spent months away from their families and friends. Flings were common aboard every ship. In years past, I wouldn’t have worried about it—but this time I felt differently.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling back and searching my face.
She seemed to know in an instant what I was feeling. She kissed me one more time—on the forehead.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s a good thing, really. I’m happy for you.”
We rearranged our kits hastily as we were due back on the command deck. She left me then, and my eyes searched the walls of my cabin thoughtfully for a moment before I headed after her.
She was right, naturally. It was all for the best. We couldn’t be seen carrying on in front of the crew. It would have been unacceptable.
But most of all, I was glad I hadn’t cheated on Chloe of House Astra.
-53-
When we returned to the command deck, Yamada and I were met with an overload of data.
“There you are Yamada—ah, Captain Sparhawk too,” Durris said. “I need you to look at the projections. I’ve worked out some answers for you.”
I nodded appreciatively. I felt a tiny pang of guilt. I’d been below pawing at Yamada while he’d spent the interval working over difficult ‘what-if’ simulations.
His battle computer had proven itself to be as prolific as usual. He displayed various projected scenarios and outcomes.
“If they rush forward to meet us,” he said, “we’ll encounter them in about four hours. But if they set up their ambush just outside the reach of the Stroj bases, it will take six.”
Shaded areas appeared depicting volumes in space where we could encounter the enemy.
“Yes,” I said, “your numbers look good. But what are the likely outcomes?”
“What, Captain?”
“I’m asking you who will win. How many ships lost on each side?”
“Oh… Well, Captain, we’ll all be destroyed in any of these scenarios. We might damage one of the battleships—but we’ll never reach the carrier.”
I frowned. This was not the data I’d hoped to hear.
“We’ve got four battle cruisers with experienced captains,” I said. “Surely, we can do better than that.”
Durris shook his head. “Our main problem isn’t the battleships, it’s that damned carrier. She’s got better than ten thousand fighters aboard. We’ve been counting them as she destroys each world. She can release up to eight wings with a thousand fighters in each. We’ve never faced firepower like that.”
“Eight thousand…” I said. “What kind of range do they have?”
“Their range is enough to reach us before we’re even in range to hit primary targets. That’s the problem—our being swarmed before we can g
et to the central ships.”
I nodded. I could feel my heart sink inside my chest as I approached his planning table. His glum-faced team surrounded the group-controlled computer. They tapped at it dismally. These staffers were normally animated, but today, no one spoke above a whisper.
“Have they released any fighters yet?” I asked.
“They’ve already launched the first three wings on an intercept course toward our cruisers. We’ll encounter them in about two hours’ time.”
Three thousand fighters? That was more than the Connatic had had in her entire arsenal. No wonder Tranquility Station at Gliese-32 had been overwhelmed.
“Counter proposals?” I asked. “Options?”
“We could turn around and fly out of here,” said a dismal ensign.
“Unacceptable.”
“Well then,” Commander Durris said, giving the ensign a reproachful look, “we need to move to a better location before this fight starts. We have to be within range of the Stroj bases. Without their missiles firing in support and picking off fighters, we’ll have no chance at all.”
I nodded, having already surmised he was going to say exactly that.
“Very well,” I said. “We’ll rise up, out of the Plane of the Ecliptic, and then dodge back down again. We’ll have to do so under heavy acceleration—please tell me we can avoid their fighters by doing so?”
Durris looked thoughtful. “According to the speeds we’ve seen so far, these three wings won’t be able to reach us if we dodge up then down again at high speed. They’re heading in our direction now, having built up significant speed. To turn and maneuver will take them time and fuel. But that really isn’t the problem.”
“Explain.”
“The carrier has five more wings of fighters in my estimation. They’ll only have to release a new wing on an intercept course after they figure out we’re dodging them to address the situation.”
He deftly worked his boards, and clouds more phantom fighters appeared. They moved to meet us before we could get into range of the Stroj missile bases.
