Resolute Glory (The War for Terra Book 8)

by James Prosser

  “How do we get home?” asked the same crewmember. “I mean, if we got here, we can get back, right?”

  “For that I’m going to turn this over to our chief engineer,” Chang said. “Mister Booth? Would you care to explain our status?”

  “Aye, sir,” Booth said, standing to see over the crowd. “To put it simply, I have no idea what the hell is goin’ on with the ship. We’ve got power, but the M-space engines are dead. I think we burned out the generator when we … uh … passed through.”

  There was another round of murmurs as the information raced through the crew. Josh looked around, already knowing most of what the captain was saying, but worried about the crew’s reaction. Chang had been the captain of Resolute before Lee Pearce, but he had been gone for a long time. Repeated orders which put the ship and crew in harm’s way had soured the relationship between the ship and the admiral over time, and the current situation was becoming dire.

  Throughout the briefing, Alice had been quiet, staring at her hands. As the admiral tried to calm the crew, her head came up and the trails of tears glistened on her face. She looked more vulnerable than he had seen her since she was returned from the Ch’Tauk. He knew she had taken them here, and why.

  “So we’re dead in space? With no way home?” asked Gregor, the burly Russian security guard. “This does not inspire us with confidence.”

  “We are assessing our options and determining the best course of action from here,” Chang replied. “I have a plan to conserve our energy supplies and—”

  “Why are you even here?” called the crewmen from before. “You’re not our captain anymore and we aren’t in your fleet.”

  “Until we can return to our own universe, the chain of command must be preserved,” replied Chang. “I have agreed to remain in command until we can—”

  “Agreed with who?” called back the crewman. “You have no right to get us all the way out here and then tell us we can’t get home.”

  The crowd began to rise, angry shouts bellowing across the room. Chang took a step back, covering the small gray alien with his own body. Josh stood and moved forward. He had never seen the crew acting this badly, but he admitted he could hardly blame them. Demsiri, too, had stood and turned to the crowd. He raised his hands to try to calm the angry mob. As Josh stepped forward, he had a decision to make. Instead of joining the angry crew, he stepped in front of the crowd and tried to raise his hands. The crowd roared at him and the admiral behind him. Of all the things he had thought would happen on this mission, being on the wrong side of a mutiny was not one of them.

  “Everyone shut up!”

  The crowd was silenced by the shout from Alice. The woman had cleared her tears and was now standing to face the crowd. She held her hands by her side, not wanting to show her weakness, but Josh could sense the pain as she tried to make fists. The authority contained in her voice was the one shout that could have instantly quieted the crew, but there was still anger coming in waves.

  “Admiral Chang didn’t bring us here,” Alice said. “I did.”

  There was stunned silence as the crew digested what their friend had said. With her short hair plastered to her skull, and her bandages, Alice looked angry and defiant. Josh could see the fire in her eyes reignite as she glared back at the crowd.

  “I brought us all here for one purpose and that’s to get our captain back. If you’re wondering who put this man in charge, it was me. He tells half-truths and orders good people to their death, and I’ve tried to kill him on more than one occasion … but he’s our best chance to get Lee Pearce back in one piece, so if any of you want to take him on, just remember you’ll have to take a number and wait in line, because I get first crack at him.”

  The room was silent for a long moment before the first person laughed. Not the jeering cackle of a challenge, but a much needed release of energy that swept the room. The sight of the blond woman with bandaged hands standing before an entire crew wanting to mutiny was simply funny. After a few seconds, Alice too joined in the laugh, a cathartic gesture which seemed to calm and bond the crew again. When the movement began to peter off, the captain stepped back to the podium to address the room.

  “Look,” he began, “I know I’m no one’s favorite person right now, but I’m here to help you get your captain back. If you can all just have a seat, maybe we can—”

  “Captain!” Demsiri cried as the little gray alien slumped to the floor. The crew, now one unit and much calmer, surged forward to the dais while Demsiri held his hands out to push the concerned mob back. He tried to examine the alien, running his fingers along its bulbous head trying to find a pulse. He looked back up to Chang with a shrug.

  “I have no idea what’s going on here,” the doctor said. “This thing isn’t like anyone else I’ve ever examined. His biology is completely different from ours.”

  “I am fine,” came a voice in their heads as the white-on-white eyes opened. “You may step away now. The transition to this universe was more … stressful … than I realized.”

  “I’d like to take you down to the sickbay just in case,” Demsiri said as the creature rose from the floor. “I may not know anything about your biology, but I still want to keep you under observation.”

  “I believe I can be of more assistance here,” the creature replied, his skin tone lightening but still showing gray pigment. “While I still have the chance.”

  “Let him stay, Doctor,” Chang said. “I really do need his help.”

  The doctor stepped away from the alien as it rose further from the floor. To Josh’s eyes it was still weak, but gaining strength as he watched. Alice had moved to one side of it and now approached. She knelt down to look the creature in the eyes. There was a moment where Josh thought the two might have been talking. Alice moved her head as if considering something and the creature acknowledged her with a nod. When the woman moved away, the creature looked to Chang and waved a thin arm.

  “Alright, people, let’s get back to the briefing,” Chang said, pushing the crowd back to their seats with his voice. “We’ve still got a lot to cover and I’m not sure how much time we have.”

  That elicited a few murmurs again from the crowd, but a glare from Alice quieted them down. Gregor sat closer to the front this time, apparently not satisfied with the explanations he had been given. Josh remained standing by the podium. He knew what would probably come next in the briefing, and wanted to be ready. Alice took a seat on the dais near the gray alien, who hovered nearby.

  “Let’s start with the biggest question,” Chang began. “Where are we? For this, I need Commander Goldstein to explain. Josh?”

  Josh stepped to the podium and activated the projection. The lights dimmed and a series of stars appeared around the room. His pilot instincts knew the scene before him was wrong, but it was his job to explain why. As the crowd looked around, Josh caught sight of the ship’s flag hanging at the back of the room. Since most of his experience had been in the chairs, he had never really looked at the banner. A black background hosted a red sun blazing in the darkness. The image so caught his attention the admiral had to tap him to regain his focus. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

  “Thank you,” Josh said. “The universe we are in now is structurally the same as ours, proving the existence of parallel realities. The main difference is age. Based on what I can tell from initial scans, this universe is approximately two trillion years older than our own.”

  More noises from the crowd as Josh rotated the image. Where there should have been billions of stars, there seemed to be only a few in the dark sky. One star in particular rotated into view. It was swollen and angry, with a reddish tinge to its light. As Josh tapped a few more keys, a series of concentric rings formed around the giant. The rings were evenly spaced nearer to the inside, but further away the spacing became wider. He tapped a few more keys and a series of rings appeared inside the red giant. A blue dot appeared outside the corona of the star floating in the void.

>   “You are here,” Josh said. “The inner planets are gone, swallowed by the sun as it began the process of nova. I’m guessing they used some of the energy here to fuel the bridge from our universe that we closed. Earth, Mars, Venus and Mercury are all gone, if they even existed here. The gas giants don’t appear to be in the right place either. We have picked up traces of debris closer to the star that we think might be the remains of the Gizzeen fleet. Closing the bridge must create some kind of pressure wave on this side. The feedback took out hundreds of ships.”

  More tapping brought up images of the living vessels torn apart by unknown forces. They varied in size but not shape. Each was an armored creature which had been ripped apart by tidal forces. Separated arm-like projections floated in a decaying orbit around the star. Josh couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Gizzeen. If this fleet had made it through, Earth and all her allies would have been destroyed, but seeing any fleet torn apart was difficult for someone who had lived their life in space.

  “Do you think that’s all of them?” a voice asked from the dark. “I mean, did we get ‘em all here?”

  “We doubt it,” Chang replied, stepping to the podium. “These may just have been the closest to the event horizon when it collapsed.”

  “Was there any sign of…?” Alice asked, choking up slightly as she spoke. “Was there anything from our side?”

  “No,” Chang replied curtly. “There was no sign of Captain Pearce’s ship among the debris.”

  “Then how do you know he’s still alive?” asked Gregor. “We are here on a goose chase then?”

  “Captain Lee Pearce is alive,” said the voice of the Engineer. “He is coming.”

  “All heads turned back to the little alien. He had moved forward to float near Chang, and his voice resonated in everyone’s head. Josh pulled the view back out from the debris to show the system again. As stars passed out of view, he caught sight of the flag again and its red sun. It appeared now to be mocking them.

  “What do you mean?” Chang asked the small alien. “How is he getting closer?”

  “Admiral Chang…” The voice of the comm officer on duty rang out in the small briefing room. “We’ve got incoming vortices on long range scans.”

  “Show me,” the admiral ordered. “Josh, put it on the projection.”

  Sensor data from the bridge began to feed into the holographic projection. The orbital lines faded and new images appeared further out from the swollen sun. As the data formed, Josh felt his mouth open in amazement. Thousands of vortices, each shimmering in a golden whirlpool of light, opened at the edge of their sensor range, each vortex vomiting hundreds of ships. One central vortex disgorged a massive vessel, a hundred times the size of Resolute. The ship took a position at the front of the convoy as more ships joined the new fleet. Josh traced the path of the ships and saw Resolute directly between the star and the enemy.

  “Oh God, they’re coming back,” Alice said, standing to look at the Gizzeen ship. “They’re going to reopen the portal.”

  “Captain Pearce is coming,” said the voice of the Engineer. “You should prepare.”

  26

  Courier Ship Kissinger

  The first thing Farthing saw as his ship shed the energy corona was thousands of insectoid vessels of all sizes circling the world he called home. The single moon of Vadne was behind the planet as the home fleet leapt from M-space to join him. Surrounded by a cocoon of firepower and sleek silver ships, Farthing felt confident but nervous. His objective was not in orbit, but on the surface.

  He knew the Chancellor well enough to know that as soon as the Vadne fleet engaged the Ch’Tauk, his father’s life would be forfeit. Communications from the surface were one way, with no signals being broadcast that weren’t military or government controlled. He assumed the people on the surface had little to no idea how many enemy vessels were hovering over their heads. Ch’Tauk control of his planet was nearly complete, and what little intelligence they had suggested the resistance was at an end. This assault was all or nothing for the felinoid species, and every last one of them had vowed to fight to the death.

  “Attack pattern Gamma,” the voice of the marshal erupted from the speakers. “Pick your target, move on. All ahead.”

  It was a simple order, but one the entire fleet had been preparing for. Farthing’s ship, under-gunned but fast, was to provide cover fire for one of the larger assault ships. He lacked the projectile weapons of the Vadne ships, but the plasma cannons would be able to slow down the Ch’Tauk long enough for the bigger guns to finish them. He tapped a key and a tactical map appeared on the screen ahead, isolating the enemy ships and minimizing every other vessel but the one he was escorting. The escort surged forward on the order and Farthing issued the command to follow.

  “Mister Caesar,” Farthing said, “reinforce shields and bring weapons to bear. Target engines and weapons systems and don’t let up. We’re not there for the kill shots.”

  “Aye, sir,” the human replied. “Shields are at full plus twenty powers. We may not be able to deal much, but we can certainly take a hit. Following Sirocco in.”

  The Terran need to name ships had not been lost on his pilot. Beside him at the shared console, Caesar had designated their assault escort as Sirocco on the area map. Other colorful names had appeared for the Vadne ships as they moved closer to the enemy fleet. Behind him, Ralep was calling out distances and relaying information from the fleet. It was a steady stream of chatter and it helped ease the captain’s mind. It was one thing to trust your ship, but a whole other thing to have faith in your crew. The three of them, despite having only been together for a short time, had become a small family of rogues among the Vadne fleet, and it felt good.

  “Get us out in front,” Farthing ordered. “I want to stay on that ship’s nose and clear the path.”

  Taps on the console pushed the ship forward. As ordered, the Kissinger surged under the bigger ship. Farthing noted the Ch’Tauk fleet moving away from the planet. A quick calculation showed the first engagement was only moments away. He spread his sensor net out to keep an eye out for flanking ships as the Sirocco nosedived into the battle. It was a trait of his people to plunge straight at an enemy, striking with speed and power rather than stealth. There had been times when Farthing had wished for more of the behavior from his human friends, but Lee Pearce had always been one to advance bodily into battle. The maneuvers always satisfied his predatory instincts, and this time was no exception. He could feel the snarl as he exposed white teeth. His crest rose in anticipation of the first volley of plasma bolts.

  Bolts of green energy slammed into the Sirocco’s shields, flaring space around the Kissinger an emerald gold. The Ch’Tauk fleet hadn’t waited for strategy or cunning, they had turned and opened fire with every ship they had. On his tactical map, Farthing saw the Vadne lines spread but hold under the all-out assault. The first volleys from the felinoid weapons lanced away from the fleet and into the enemy lines. Smaller fighters ruptured as the carbon composite rods sliced through hulls, leaving only shattered debris. The larger Ch’Tauk ships took the hits and kept firing. Within seconds, space had turned into a kill zone, the area between them the no-man’s land where hundreds would die.

  “Fire at will,” Farthing ordered, taking over the navigation duties as Caesar began firing the cannons. “I’ll keep us ahead of the Sirocco, but out of their line of fire.”

  “Sir,” Ralep called from behind. “Marshal is ordering defensive pattern Omicron. Sirocco is ordering us off.”

  “Already?” Farthing said. “We shouldn’t be changing this early in the battle.”

  Farthing twisted the ship into a roll, narrowly avoiding outgoing fire from the bigger ship behind. The change to a defensive pattern was unusual in the early stages of battle, but he assumed the marshal had a plan. She had turned out to be a truly remarkable woman and a valiant commander.

  They had not spent a long time with each other. Vadne mating was not the long affair Terran m
ating had become. The biological urge to couple had been satisfied and his own anxiety lessened. After, he had spent time in the medical bay of her ship and been diagnosed with a form of stress disorder. His sense of smell had been damaged, and only time would heal the wound. On his own world, it would have condemned him to a life as a pariah. Here, on this ship, it left him smelling a strange burnt odor, but still able to function.

  “Where’s the nearest attack wing?” Farthing asked, scanning the tactical map. “We need to form up and get ready.”

  “Mark two-one-two,” replied Caesar. “Designate Wing Three. It looks like we’re the ones being escorted now.”

  Kissinger moved closer to the smaller attack fighters. Ch’Tauk energy bolts skimmed off the shields, the deck beneath their feet rumbling. The ship carried no engineer as it was not supposed to be in combat, and its missions were typically short. If the relay systems overloaded, they were dead in space.

  Farthing carefully avoided the blasts and moved in behind the smaller ships. Vadne fighters were little more than single person darts with projectile throwers mounted in the nose. Kissinger’s job in the pattern was to fire the plasma cannons around the fighters and distract the oncoming Ch’Tauk ships. The fighters, meanwhile, would clear the way and act like a spear through the enemy lines.

  The wedge moved slowly through the Vadne defensive lines, weaving in front of and behind the larger ships. Farthing kept a careful distance between the Kissinger and the fighters. He was faster, but they could turn and maneuver quicker. The Ch’Tauk were closing in fast, pummeling the Vadne ships with energy bolts. As Farthing drew his ship to the center of the lines he saw the strategy. The Ch’Tauk had aligned them in a picket line moving towards the Vadne fleet. The home defense forces had arrayed themselves out, with the outer edges slowly drifting forward. The Ch’Tauk were being drawn into a pincer move. It seemed the marshal had learned some strategy from the humans as well.