Oh! James, please wait.
James felt his heart in his throat, and his hands started to shake. He spoke out loud to the four walls of his cabin:
“My God she has forgotten.”
The phrase ‘the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few’ started to go round and round in his head.
Tristain re-established the telepathic contact via Thera.
James, we have designated Cassiopeia’s avatar to link with the flagship’s systems. She is downloading the necessary information now using Thera as a relay. She can continue with spoof reports once the normal Sinestrian communication is jammed.
James sighed with relief. Thank you, Tristain.
James checked with Thera she had all the necessary shutdown codes for the Sinestrian fleet and waited.
The last few hours seemed to drag. Thera ceased feeding the solar activity information to the Sinestrian fleet. James noted the hurried activity on the flagship as the fleet prepared for departure to League space.
Suddenly, the ships of the League started to appear just out of range of the massed fleet of Sinestrians and Cartigians.
Now, Thera!
The computers on the Sinestrian fleet all shut down. The ships immediately started to drift, some banging into one another; from the view port James thought it looked a little like a crowded billiard table with the balls slowly hitting one another and ricocheting off in different directions. A celestial ballet but without music.
Thera, jam all their transmissions!
Yes, James, it is being done.
James heard running feet down the corridor towards his cabin door.
Thera, I think you should get me out of here fast!
James felt the now familiar sensation in his stomach and found himself standing in the AI’s bunker. He was in the lounge area; he looked around. “I feel a bit isolated here, Thera, is it possible to monitor what’s going on?”
He was suddenly standing above the opposing fleets, a disembodied consciousness hanging in the vast reaches of space.
Twenty-One: Battle
The bridge of the heavy cruiser buzzed with activity. Octavian checked the system status from his position on the command chair. He had spent the last two weeks drilling the Sicceian crew to clear the ship for action stations. They had practised with computer simulations, various possible battle situations. The gun and missile crews had also practised using their target drones.
Octavian was satisfied with the way the crew had shaped up. The ship was new, just out of the Sicceian shipyards, built to the latest specification. The changes from the ships he had known were impressive.
They were minutes away from returning to normal space. The crew were all at their stations. Everything was ready, weapons were charged and the missile tubes loaded. They were suddenly looking at the stars the crescent of a planet to their right a couple of hundred thousand miles away. In front, a vast fleet that outnumbered them three to one. League vessels were appearing round them as their Star Drives were shut down.
As they grouped, part of the fleet opposing them started to drift out of control, some ships crashing into one another. The rest started to turn towards them. Octavian had twenty-five other ships under his command. They were tasked with meeting the enemy fleet head on and splitting it, pushing right through then turning onto the rear of the enemy. The rest of the League ships were separated into two sections; they were each to close in from the left and right.
Octavian ordered full throttle. He felt his ship surge forward. He kept the tactical in front of him. As they came into range, he commanded all weapons to fire at will. The other ships behind them did the same. The heavy armour of the Cartigian ships took a lot of concentrated power before it was breached. However, being taken by surprise their fire was not accurate. Octavian ordered the helm to take avoiding action and the ship moved from side to side to impede the enemy’s weapon lock. The Cartigian ships veered away as Octavian’s group of ships pressed home their attack. It seemed the whole of space was filled with ships, flashes of laser fire and missiles added to the confusion.
Octavian grabbed the arms of his chair as his ship lurched to one side. He leant forward. “Damage control?”
“Yes, sir, compartments are being sealed.”
The ship lurched again, and the port side weapons control console sparked, the gunner thrown to the deck.
The smell of burning and smoke stung his eyes and caught in his throat, causing him to cough. One of the bridge crew emptied a fire extinguisher on the console. The injured crewman was carried off. Octavian wiped his eyes and checked the tactical; the port lasers were knocked out but the foreword and starboard batteries and missile systems were still functioning.
An enemy ship exploded in front of them. The foreword section spun away, hitting one of Octavian’s ships head on; it also exploded from the impact. Octavian jumped, he felt his ship lift and roll sideways. The helmsman managed to bring it under control, but they were heading towards a large enemy ship.
The helmsman started to take avoiding action.
“Hold your course! He must be the one to turn. When he does give him everything we have.” Octavian willed the helmsman to hold her course. Everyone watched in fascination as the distance between the two ships closed rapidly. They were preparing for the impact when the enemy ship pulled up to go over them.
“FIRE!” Octavian shouted the order.
The underside of the enemy ship was raked with laser bolts, and three missiles hit home. It rolled away to the port side, crippled; it would take no further part in the battle.
They were suddenly through the enemy fleet. It had seemed like an age but in reality was probably no more than five minutes. A few miles in front of them drifted the helpless Sinestrian fleet. Octavian smiled, the Sinestrians were right to be concerned about what a planetary AI was capable of. It was fortunate that Tristain had activated Thera when she did. He returned to the tactical display. Their charge through the enemy fleet had caused the centre to scatter. Unfortunately, four of his ships had been lost but many more of the enemy fleet had been taken out.
He ordered his ships to split into two groups then to systematically work their way back through the enemy fleet from the rear. They were to concentrate on taking out their engines. Octavian attacked a large battle ship; they were weaker when attacked from behind. His gun control aimed at the three main engines, and they must have had a lucky shot as the whole rear of the ship exploded. Unfortunately, part of the stern and one of the main engines spun, end over end towards them. The helmsman tried to take evasive action, but it was too close. The heavy engine struck Octavian’s ship just below the bridge. Octavian covered his face with his arm then there was blackness.
Tristain commanded the section of the League fleet that was to attack the right flank of the Cartigian fleet. Her father, on the flagship, commanded the section on the left. As Octavian split the enemy, Tristain and her father’s ships dived on the enemy flanks. The enemy scattered as they turned away to avoid the League ships that were diving on them. This made them easy targets. The League ships devastated the Cartigian fleet. The Cartigians that still had a functioning Star Drive jumped away. The remaining ships surrendered.
Tristain relaxed in her command chair. Her Mylian crew cheered, and she smiled. “Well done, everyone.”
She liked the Mylians; they accepted her for what she was. She could not work with a Sicceian crew.
Octavian? Tristain heard nothing. She turned to her communications officer.
“Please contact the Calista.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Well?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, there is no response.”
Tristain felt her heart miss a beat. Father?
Yes, Tristain?
Do you know what has happened to the Calista?
Wait a moment.
Tristain held her breath.
Tristain?
Yes?
She could feel the sorrow in her
father’s thoughts. She gripped the arms of her chair, fearing the worst.
I’m sorry, but his ship has been badly damaged. There are some survivors, but the bridge has been totally destroyed. All the bridge personnel are dead.
She shook her head; the time they were together raced through her mind. One detached part of her mind asked herself. Why do I feel this way? She wanted to go to her ready room and be alone so she could sort out her feelings. There was however, too much to do picking up survivors, securing prisoners, and assessing salvageable ships. Many hours passed before Tristain could retire to her cabin. She threw herself on to her bunk exhausted, and lay for a little while staring at the ceiling. She felt unaccustomed emotions well up and to her surprise found herself crying. She turned her face to the wall, and eventually fell into an exhausted sleep.
Thera returned James to her bunker. He sat back for a moment while his senses adjusted to being back in his body.
“Bloody hell! That was a grandstand view.”
“James, I will land all the Sinestrian ships, but you should talk with them first. I can give you Guardian armour and the latest weapon systems. I have downloaded all the necessary updates from Cassiopeia, and I will project you on to all the ships so you can order them to disembark.”
A belt appeared on James’s waist.
“The armour and tactical computer is tuned exclusively to you. You use your telepathic ability to activate it.”
James sensed the battle armour tactical computer connect to his mind. Thera downloaded instructions as to its use and limitations. James was staggered by the capabilities of the suit and its weapon systems. He unfolded it – there was a shimmer around him, and he was encased in a servo-assisted armoured battle suit. A full tactical display appeared just like a normal head up display inside his helmet, but it was being fed directly to his mind.
Thera said, “James, are you ready? You will not be recognised because of your helmet.”
“OK, I’m ready.”
James, you are visible on every Sinestrian bridge.
“Sinestrians, your ships will be landed and you will disembark a ship at a time. You will be allowed only personal items. Your quest of cleansing the galaxy of synthetic life forms is over.”
OK, Thera, please transport me to the bridge of the flagship.
James felt the now familiar lurch and was standing on the flagship’s bridge. The Admiral jumped out of her command chair. The bridge officers drew their side arms.
The Admiral held up her hand. “Hold your fire.”
She turned to James – he was shocked at how old she looked. The last few hours had taken their toll.
“What do you intend to do with us, Guardian?”
“This world will be your home until the Empress has been taught the error of her ways. The ships will be left in orbit around the fifth planet of this solar system. The AI will ensure their safekeeping.”
The Admiral frowned “This planet did not have a functioning AI when we were here before.”
“It was activated a few months ago.”
“We had a person onboard who was meant to deal with the AIs – what happened to him?”
“He has been taken care of, Admiral, and is no longer your concern. I need you to ensure all your crews disembark in an orderly manner. Your communication systems will be reactivated for you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“The ships are totally under the control of the AI, so they will land one at a time. We would prefer not to put a contingent of marines on the ground to force the crews off each ship, but we will if we are forced to. Everything will be monitored by the AI to ensure you don’t try anything. Nothing will get past her, so I advise you to comply fully. Your ship will be the first. Once everyone has disembarked, the life support systems will be shut down. Anyone who remains on board will quickly die. Please inform all your captains.”
The Admiral did as James had requested.
Thera, you can commence the landing sequence for the Admiral’s ship.
Yes, James.
There was a slight vibration as the main engines fired. The ship started to move towards the planet under the full control of the AI. James stood watching the bridge crew. They sat at their posts, but had nothing to do as the planetary computer had full control of the ship’s systems. He noticed one or two were eying him up. He faced them one at a time, and they looked away; he could sense their discomfort and hate tinged with fear. He stood in silence.
The ship lurch gently under his feet as it touched down.
“Admiral, please order the crew to disembark.”
She nodded and, using the ship’s intercom, ordered all the crew out. After a short period a group of forlorn men and women stood a short way from the ship. Thera had landed the ship on the outskirts of a deserted city. Some buildings had started to crumble but many looked to be still intact. In the distance were low wooded hills. Over to the right, ripples on a large lake glistened in the sun.
Thera, have all the crew disembarked?
Yes, James, sensors show the ship is empty.
Right, please remove the ship and park it in orbit around the fifth planet.
The crew stood and watched as their ship closed its access ports. The engines fired, the ship rose into the blue sky, and was soon out of sight. Other ships had landed, and their crews were disembarking. As each ship’s complement was checked, the ship rose, and another took its place.
James turned to the Admiral, who was now standing a short way from him.
“You will be provided with temporary shelters and food whilst you get yourselves established on this empty planet. Everything will be overseen by the Planetary AI. Thera, please introduce yourself to the Sinestrian Admiral.”
There was a slight shimmer and a female figure stood before them. James could see from the expression on her face the Admiral was taken aback by the AI standing in front of her.
Thera inclined her head to James and turned to the Admiral. “Under the command of the Guardians, I will monitor you and assist if necessary while your people establish a viable colony.”
OK, I will leave them to you now, Thera. Please transport me back to the bunker.
Twenty-Two: Retaliation
Ilithyia shifted in her chair, attempting to ease the ache in her back; at least the sickness has passed, she thought to herself.
The role as one of the Empress’s aides had proved to be easy, for which she had been grateful, especially for the first couple of months when she was often sick. Now she was starting to get bored.
Her primary task was commander of the Empress’s communication centre that monitored communications to and from the various fleets scattered around Sinestrian space. As the main battle fleet carrying James was out of contact while their Star Drive was engaged she did not know anything of their progress. She sighed, stood and stretched her back.
The main screen in front of her suddenly burst into life. She sat down in surprise. There would normally be another hour before she had to go round each flagship in turn and get the latest mundane updates.
She stared open-mouthed at the screen. The bridge of the ship was badly damaged. She could see smoke rising from a couple of the command consoles and crewmembers were lying on the deck either injured or dead.
It was the junior Admiral in command of the small fleet patrolling outside of the nebula bordering Gunard space. She had a gash on her forehead and wiped blood from her eyes with a trembling hand.
“Ilithyia?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Good, please tell the Empress all our ships have been destroyed. We were barely able to get away.”
“Get away from whom – what has happened?”
There was a sound of an explosion, the Admiral looked off to one side out of camera shot. “I don’t have much time left. We were just patrolling the area as normal when space seemed to boil. Without warning there were ships all around us. We didn’t stand a chance. There were far too many of them, half
the fleet was destroyed in the first few seconds. The tactical computer reported THOUSANDS of ships.”
“Who was it?”
“The Gunards! It seems they are heading towards Ventensia, the nearest inhabited planet.”
The ship the Admiral was on suddenly lurched. She looked off camera again.
“Oh no…” She gasped – a metal plate flew through the air and sliced her head clean off. Her body stood for a moment, blood pumping, then collapsed. The ship shook again and the screen went dead.
Ilithyia sat for a moment, hardly breathing. She shuddered and retched then swallowed in an attempt to contain the nausea. The last thing she wanted was to be sick at her post. She looked round. Other officers in the communications room had heard what was going on and had gathered round her screen. Their faces where white; they all looked like she felt, in a state of shock.
She stood. “I have to tell the Empress. You,” she pointed at one of the junior officers, “monitor my screen for me please.”
They all stood aside for her as she walked out of the communications room to find the Empress.
The Empress was walking in one of her many formal gardens. She turned towards Ilithyia as she hurried up. Her greeting froze on her lips.
“Ilithyia, whatever is the matter? You look like you have seen a ghost!”
Ilithyia took a moment to catch her breath.
“Madam, the fleet patrolling Gunard space has been destroyed – apparently overwhelmed by a vastly superior Gunard fleet.”
“Gunard? Impossible, they are no more than pirates!”
“I’m afraid it’s true, Madam; and the Admiral, before her ship was destroyed, plotted their likely course, towards Ventensia.”
“Inform Ventensia that a hostile fleet is on its way and dispatch as many ships within range of the planet as possible. The planet has a strong defensive shield so there should not be a problem.”
“Yes, Madam.”
Ilithyia saluted and rushed off to do as the Empress had ordered. When she reached the communication centre she contacted the Governor of Ventensia. The Governor was not at her office and had to be located. Once her aides had located her, Ilithyia informed her of the impending Gunard attack. The Governor was dismissive of any threat from the Gunards, she also assured Ilithyia that she did not need more ships as they had at least fifty capital ships patrolling their system. However, if the Empress ordered it then more ships would be welcome, but she was sure it would be a wasted journey.
Guardian Generations Page 21
