by Alex Kings
Once Adams was working, he called up another channel. “Hanson to sickbay. How are things going down there?”
Dr. Sorrel's voice responded: “Some minor trauma injuries from the jump, and a few cases of hyperthermia, which we're treating now. We have eight fatalities in total.”
Hanson nodded. “Very well.”
“Also, Lieutenant Dunn is awake. You should have him back in the next half hour.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Next up, it was Adams again. “I'm sorry to say we're set to float in space, but not much more than that. Our weapons are out, both sublight and jump engines are out, only the port lidar is functional.”
“What about communications?” said Hanson.
“Lightspeed only. Our bulkwave burned itself out trying to pingback a message shortly after we jumped.”
“A message?” said Hanson. “From whom?”
“We don't know. It was lost when the bulkwave went down.”
Hanson looked over the command console. Some of the displays were still damaged. “So we can't move, and we can't call for help?”
“That's about the size of it, sir.”
“Any chance of repairing them?”
“Not away from a dock,” said Adams. “I've asked Yilva, but she can't come up with anything either.”
“Then we need some other way of sending a signal.”
“We're working on it, sir, but the prospects don't look good.”
The command console chimed. Lank strode over and checked it.
“What is it?” said Hanson.
Lanik frowned. “It's hard to tell with the current state of our sensors, but I believe we have a jump-in.”
Hanson strode over. “Any idea what sort of vessel we're dealing with?”
“To small to be the Tethyans,” said Lanik. “Other than that, it's impossible to tell.”
The console chimed again. Signal incoming. Hanson put it through.
Operative Serafin appeared on one of the displays. “Hello, Captain,” she said. “You look like you could do with some help.”
*
Millicent stood in front of a wall-sized screen watching Earth. From up here, it looked placid, calm, indifferent to the spectacular change in government that had just taken place.
For the moment, they were safely ensconced in a luxury liner, which itself was inside one of the larger cavities of an Ancient ship. By means of the connector artefact, they had direct control of the Ancient ship from the liner's CIC.
With her middle finger, she pushed her glasses back up her nose. She was smiling, she realised. Pierce had been right.
They'd won.
Everything was fine.
He'd allowed her to send a shuttle down to London. (Going to the surface in person was too much of a risk, he'd said.) It should be reporting back now. And then she'd finally get to talk to Emily.
An incoming message icon flashed on the screen.
Chapter 7: Testing in the Field
Together, the two ships limped towards Tethya. The Black Cat was small, but incredibly powerful for a ship its size. It positioned itself at the Dauntless's nose and opened wormholes big enough for the both of them. It also transmitted sensor data, so they had some idea of what was going on around them.
En route, Serafin told them all she had learned about the Shadowwalkers, the Ancients, and their history. “Though I'm not sure how knowing this helps us,” she said over the comms.
“And the Shadowwalkers won't join us in battle?” asked Hanson.
“It doesn't seem very likely.”
Yilva, meanwhile, lapped the information up. “There is a chance,” she said, hanging from the ceiling in Vyren's pool. “We might be able to use it. I do not have a plan, but the beginnings of an idea, perhaps. It might work, it might not –”
“What is it?” Hanson said.
“Ancient technology talks to other Ancient technology. That is our big lesson. If we could get in on that conversation, we could stop those ships, or confuse them.”
“So if we had Ancient tech of our own, maybe we could override Pierce's control?”
“Or hinder it, at least,” said Vyren. “The idea's worth pursuing.”
Soon after, they reached Tethya. It was immediately obvious something was wrong. The CIC fell silent as the crew watched.
There was the usual busy traffic, ships of all races flying to and from Tethya city, dwarfed by the immense Tethya battleships. But alongside them, there was something else.
Hundreds of Alliance ships orbited the planet. Hanson frowned at the data. There had to be over half the entire Alliance fleet stationed here.
The realisation dawned on him. This was the entire Alliance fleet. They'd lost Earth.
“We're getting a hail,” Miller said at last. “From the Untamed.”
“Put it through,” said Hanson.
Admiral Chang's face appeared on the displays. He nodded gravely. “James. It's good to see you. We all thought you were dead.” He paused and sighed. “You can see what's happened. We should talk.”
*
The Tethyans had taken the Dauntless in for repairs. Given the extent of the damage, it would take several days for them to finish. By the time they finished, Hanson supposed, it would be more Tethyan than human.
Meanwhile, he and the crew were stuck on Tethya City.
The streets and corridors seemed to have more Alliance officers than ever before. They milled about, murmuring together in dark voices. Hanson understood how they felt. To lose Earth, and to an enemy who had been hiding in the shadows only weeks before. The universe felt like it had been turned upside down.
And more than that, there were the family and friends left behind. The last time he had seen his parents had been … well … too long.
He met Chang on a plaza outside a coral-like Tethyan building. They shook hands, while in the background another Tethyan battleship rose from the seas, water rolling off its hull, then hurtled upwards.
“They're growing more ships,” Chang said. “As quickly as the planet can handle. They admitted it. They're scared. The Goddamn Tethyans are scared.”
“They should be,” said Hanson.
It was time. They headed inside.
The conference room was irregularly shaped, with pale light diffusing from the organic walls. There was no table. Tiny canals snaked across the floor. Whenever someone made to step over them, a bridge of smart matter leapt out.
Along with Hanson came Lanik, Yilva, and Serafin. Chang was joined by a few other admirals and captains. Several Tethyans swam in the canals. And the Tethyan Admiral of the Firmament joined them over the comms.
The Tethyan Admiral spoke first. “We are in a difficult position. The Ancient ships outclass anything else in the known galaxy. They could attack any planet, any outpost, and we would be powerless to stop them.”
A silence fell across the room.
“Then why haven't they?” said Chang.
“Lack of resources,” said Hanson. “When we saw the first Ancient ships emerge, we hit the planet with monopole cannons to try and destroy their production facilities. If we succeeded, it may be that Pierce can't build any more ships.”
“Admiral Chang,” said the Firmament. “How many Ancient ships were in the Solar System when you left?”
“Thirteen.”
“We saw no more than thirteen ships emerge from the planet. It is possible that these are the only ships Pierce has. A single Ancient ship can destroy any other vessel in a single shot. But its rate of fire is comparatively slow. Furthermore, it is only one ship. If it is occupied fighting one fleet, a second fleet could take some other action. The same problem occurs for higher numbers – two Ancient ships would have trouble with three fleets, and so forth.”
Chang nodded. “So Pierce doesn't want to spread his ships too thinly. If he wanted to control every militarily powerful system, he could only have one ship in each.” He rubbed his chin. “He'll also have a problem controll
ing Earth. He might dominate space, but when it comes to manpower, he's going to have a hell of a time controlling ten billion people.”
“He was breeding the Blanks to deal with that problem,” Hanson said. “But we've killed most of them.”
“So he will want time to consolidate his power,” said the Firmament. “He may find a way to build more Ancient ships. If not, he can breed more Blanks. With them, he can crew human ships and have them fight alongside the Ancient ships to deal with the numbers problem. From there, he will be in a position to conquer the galaxy.”
“So how can we stop him?” asked Chang.
“Monopole cannons can damage Ancient ships, but their effectiveness is limited,” admitted one of the Tethyans.
“We have an idea,” said Hanson. He looked across the Tethyans, and at the image of empty water that represented the Firmament. “But before we get to it, there's something you should know.” He nodded to Serafin.
Serafin stepped forward. “I have met your cousins,” she told the Tethyans. “I call them Shadowwalkers. They call themselves creatures of the dark.”
The tentacles of every Tethyan in the room flicked open slightly and changed colour.
“How?” said the Firmament.
Serafin recounted her story. The Tethyans remained silent throughout, and for some time after.
“I remember the split with the … Shadowwalkers, as you call them,” said the Firmament. “But the memory is distant, a fractional part of my being.” It paused again.
It was the first time Hanson had ever seen the Admiral uncertain. He could see why. For centuries the Tethyans had acted as the wise and powerful guardians. They had even come to believe themselves. Now they were being faced with these embarrassing incidents from the past, a reminder that they, too, had a history of bitterness and discord.
He decided to move on. “Yilva?” he said.
Yilva stepped forward. “According to the Shadowwalkers, every piece of Ancient technology will try to communicate with every other piece of Ancient technology in range. So what happens if we try and talk to Pierce's ships?” She leapt upwards, grabbing an outcrop of coral on the ceiling. Her tail danced about in excitement. “Maybe we can control them. Or if we can not control them, maybe we can distract them: Pierce tells them one thing, we tell them another, they get distracted.”
“I don't know if that qualifies as a plan,” said a Tethyan.
“No, it does not!” said Yilva. “I need research! I need computing power. I need Ancient tech to work on! I need … well, testing in the field, probably.”
Testing in the field. In other words, going to battle with an Ancient ship and trying out a half-baked plan to see what happens.
“This could be crucial,” said the Firmament. “You may have access to all the resources on Tethya City.”
Yilva grinned. “The artefacts in the museum?”
“Yes.”
“Now,” said Hanson. “Whatever comes of this plan, we need all the allies we can get.”
“We will fight by your side,” said the Firmament.
“Thank you. What of the other races?”
“I will arrange a call with the Albascene ambassador for you as soon as possible.”
“Well, that's a start.”
Chapter 8: Liar
Millicent tapped on Pierce's door. A second or two passed. She knocked again, harder. She banged on it, in fact.
The door slid open.
Pierce's fatherly face looked down at her. “Millicent! What is it?”
The words didn't want to come. “They … ” she began and stifled a sob. “Emily! They've taken her!”
Pierce brought her in for a hug. She resisted for a moment, then gave in.
“I know,” he said. “I saw the report. I'm sorry, Millicent.”
They separated, and while she was fixing her glasses, Pierce continued.
“It was always a possibility. But I tried to avoid it. I thought if we attacked quickly enough, they wouldn't have time to pick her up. But … they moved faster than I expected.”
Millicent stepped back a little and caught his gaze as he spoke. There was something off in his tone.
You're lying! she realised. You didn't think this through at all. You didn't make any contingency plans like you usually do. The only thing on your mind when we attacked was to get hold of Earth as quickly as possible.
She wanted to accuse him of lying right there, but first her natural shyness, then a sense of prudence held her back. She nodded. “I need to find her,” she said.
Pierce nodded slowly, stepping back into his new quarters. On a table in the corner of the room, she caught sight of something covered in a sheet. It was irregularly-shaped, about the size of a head.
“We will find her,” Pierce said. “But you know we need to be cautious. You saw how Hanson destroyed our construction facilities. But I promise you, we will come for them! We have control of the shipyards here, and we've already begun growing more Blanks. We will take every system, every planet in the known galaxy, one-by-one, until there's nowhere left for them to hide her, and no reason for them to keep her. But this will only happen if we keep working. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Pierce,” she said meekly.
He guided her to the door. “Millicent,” he said, “I know you can do this.”
Walking down the corridor, her head seemed to hold a storm. But her eyes were clear at last. She saw now what Pierce had done. For all his warmth, he had merely given her a pep speech and told her to get back to work.
She sat down at her desk and glared balefully back the way she'd come. What had happened to the old Pierce? He was driven and ambitious, certainly, but compassionate too.
It didn't matter, she thought, as she started looking through the resources on her tablet. She'd have to do this on her own.
*
After the meeting, Hanson stayed behind with Chang and the Firmament. The reply came directly from Laikon, the Albascene home world: The Albascene's senior ambassador had agreed to talk with them on short notice. “As expected,” said the Firmament.
There was no screen. A circular image of an Albascene appeared, apparently floating in front of the wall. This Albascene was notably different from any Hanson had seen before. Its suit was decorated with all manner of medals and ribbons and other official-looking ornaments.
“A rare message direct from the Tethyan admiralty,” it said calmly. “I am honoured. How may I assist you?”
“I trust you have heard of the situation over Earth?” said the Firmament.
“We have,” said the Albascene ambassador. “An unfortunate violent coup. My sympathies go out to the humans affected. And I hope the situation is resolved soon.”
Hanson stepped forward. “We believe we have a shot at resolving the situation before Pierce moves on to attack other worlds, but we need allies. The Tethyans have pledged to help us.”
“How interesting,” said the Albascene ambassador.
“Would also be willing to help neutralise the Ancient ships?”
“No,” said the ambassador. “We will not be involved in this conflict.”
The Firmament spoke again: “This situation involves a small group of humans using Ancient technology. Therefore it does not concern only the humans, but every species. It does not fall under the Pax Galactica. That is why we are willing to fight together.”
“I understand that,” said the Ambassador. “However, the Albascene Nation has no interest in joining you.”
There was a pause. For centuries, the Albascene had been all but loyal lapdogs to the Tethyans, the civilisational equivalent of a starry-eyed boy worshipping his older brother. For them to now decline a request from the Tethyans did not bode well.
“May I ask why?” said Hanson.
“Certainly,” the Ambassador said mildly. “As you have said, this involves Ancient ships. We do not wish to provoke their anger. Moreover, the Albascene Nation currently has problems of its own which r
equire attention. The matter is settled, and we will not change our minds. Are there any further matters you wish to discuss?”
“That is all,” said the Firmament. In that deep, rumbling voice, Hanson could almost detect a tone of resignation.
“Thank you,” said the Albascene. Its image promptly vanished.
“Well,” said Hanson, “that could have gone better.”
“It could,” agreed the Firmament.
“Tethyan-Albascene relations seem to have deteriorated,” said Chang.
“Yes,” said the Firmament. “It is because of the Petaurs Ms. Yilva freed. When they came to live in Tethya City, the Albascene tried to repatriate them. I stepped in to guarantee the Petaurs' freedom, as we agreed. The Albascene objected strenuously. They consider it a national embarrassment. Since then, their relations with us have cooled considerably.”
“So you finally told them what they were doing was wrong, and they're sulking,” said Hanson. He sighed. “We really do have the best timing, don't we?”
Chapter 9: Night on Tethya
Night had fallen. Tethya's six tiny moons, ranging from a dusky red to a chill cobalt grey, lay scattered across the sky. Battleships in low orbit showed up as lines of bright blue stars sliding towards the west.
Hanson stood on a platform at the edge of the city. He was exhausted from hours of meetings, but not actually tired. He stood at a gritty coral railing, listening to the waves. The sea looked like obsidian. A breeze smelling of salt slowly picked up, then fell away again.
Footsteps came up behind him.
“Hey,” said Agatha.
“Hi.”
As soon as she reached the railings, she dropped down and sat with her lands hanging over the edge. “Remember that bar where we first met and the Glaber attacked us?”
Hanson smiled slightly. “Yeah. What about it?”
“I went there with Srak. They closed it down!” She laughed. “I asked around, and apparently it was part-owned by Hive Shrike. When they went down, so did all their side businesses.” She laughed.
