by Alex Kings
*
Something slammed into the side of the breaching pod, sending an immense bang through its hull. Red fought stay on course. Internal sensors showed they were still intact.
“Target in sight,” he said to the assembled marines in the chamber below him.
“Acknowledged,” came Moore's voice.
The Albascene frigate came into sight on the telescope. Its dodecahedral hull was lined with scorch marks and stress fractures. One engine was shattered. Damaged, but not too damaged.
Around them, Glaber Hunters, trailing streamers of glowing vapour, plunged forward. Red broadcast a signal about his intentions. Don't destroy this ship when we're on it. He wasn't sure if the Glaber would honour the request – it was still hard to think of them as allies.
In the distance, ships flared into fireballs. Lasers burnt up kinetics. A Glaber Hunter took a missile to the nose. Its hull seemed to unzip to its stern, revealing the vaporised interior.
Red shifted upwards, keeping out of the kinetics of the cruiser closing in on them, then reacquired their target. It was visible without magnification now.
“ETA ten seconds,” he said.
The Albascene ships hurtled up towards them, looking for all the world like it was going to collide. Red let it come, the decelerated as hard as the ship would let him. The hull whined under the stress. Suddenly the Albascene ship was huge in front of them.
For a fraction of a second he could see all the detail, the grating, the laser turrets, the telescopes and lidar arrays, the patterns in the stress fractures.
Then they made contact.
Struts of aluminium foam a hundred metres long stuck out in front of the pod. They crumpled, absorbing the impact as the ships came together. There was a sharp bang as the pod hit the frigate's hull, then an electrical buzz as the magnetic lock activated.
Green lights lit up across the console. Everything was good. Red activated the plasma torch.
In the chamber below, Moore readied her carbine. Around her, marines did the same. Varanid soldiers readied themselves. The giant circular door at the front of the pod slid open to reveal a segment of the Albascene's hull, already lit up by the plasma torch cutting through it. A second later it fell inwards, giving them access.
“Go, go, go!” she shouted, and they began to board.
*
“Position all chaff between us and Ancient Two,” Hanson ordered.
The clouds of shuttles and missiles moved into new positions. The Tethyan Battleships sprayed water to shield themselves as the ship fired again.
Ancient Two continued to fire. Even through the chaff, its attacks scoured the hulls off dreadnoughts and punctured battleships. It scored a hit on the Afanc, tearing out great chunks of crumbling grey flesh.
Gritting his teeth, Hanson stared at the display showing Ancient One, the giant scar on its surface glowing white-hot. “Come on,” he muttered. It was absurdly tough. But all they could do was let Two keep firing at them while they attacked.
How long would it take?
Ancient Two pulled free of its restraints again. This time, it didn't shoot. It accelerated sharply, straight at the Afanc. It closed the distance in seconds.
Seeing what was about to happen, six Battleships leapt out of formation. Ramming Ancient Two together, they exploded in a blinding flash, but knocked it to the side.
Something within gave way. The scar opened up suddenly. Glowing cracks formed a spiderweb over its hull. With a nuclear flash, the Ancient ship cracked open. It fragmented. Irregular pieces, glowing at the edges, flew away from each other.
The CIC crew cheered. Dunn took a moment to fist pump before returning to his console.
“Good God,” murmured Lanik. “We did it.”
Hanson nodded. He opened a channel to Yilva. “Concentrate on Ancient Two.”
“On it,” she said.
But Ancient Two had already pulled free. It didn't bother attacking them. It only tried to flee. Ahead of it, space rippled. A wormhole began to inflate.
The arrowhead formations swung about, reformed alongside the Afanc, and closed in on it.
The wormhole quivered, then collapsed again. Ancient Two shuddered and fell silent.
“We have it,” said Dunn.
“Fire.”
The fleet closed in, carving into the ship's hull with their monopole cannons.
Around them, Albascene and human ships turned tail and fled. They knew the battle was lost. The Glaber Hunters, true to their name, pursued them to the end, trying to score fatal hits before their quarry escaped.
Ancient Two gave way at last, cracks radiating across its surface until it came apart.
Hanson called up the overhead displays. Slowly cooling wreckage tumbled aimlessly, lit up by the star's glare. The fleet bore new wounds, but most of them had survived. The Battleships were already closing in on Tethya to assess the damage.
“Sergeant Moore's on the line,” Miller said. “Boarding teams have managed to capture two Albascene ships and an Alliance frigate.”
“Put her through,” said Hanson.
Moore appeared on one of the displays. In the background, a group of Albascene prisoners stood with their effector fields off and the lasers ripped out of their suits.
“Hello, sir,” she said, and gave a quick summary. The Alliance ship, as expected, was filled with Blanks, but they've captured the few Dominion personnel in command. Hanson looked over the list of casualties. Not too high considering.
“Good work, Sergeant,” he said.
“One thing, sir,” said Moore.
“What?”
“Where are Agatha and Srak? I thought they'd be joining us.”
Hanson looked at her. “You're saying they're not with you?”
“No, sir.”
Chapter 64: Empty City
Tethya City was intact, but empty. The Terran Dominion hadn't bothered settling the city, though they had ransacked the museum and taken all the Ancient artefacts they could find. As evening fell, the long shadows of buildings stretched across the giant empty plazas and walkways. The only sounds came from the slap of waves against the city's edges and the creaking of its superstructure.
Shuttles scoured the empty streets for an hour to make sure it really was empty and ensure there were no nasty surprises. When the all-clear signal came, the ships began to land in the water berths around the city's edge. Meanwhile, Battleships descended into the ocean itself, to check in Tethya's true underwater cities.
Hanson stepped out of the shuttle and looked around. This was it. The fruit of their first real triumph against the Ancient ships.
But there was little time to enjoy it.
He headed to their old meeting room, where others were gathering already.
First, there were the preliminaries. They knew they could defeat Ancient ships, but it was still a hell of a job. It took four minutes of continuous fire from the entire fleet to kill one of them. And, according to Yilva's new calculations, the Afanc couldn't incapacitate more than two at a time.
“So we pick them off one by one?” suggested Kuta.
“Normally, that would be my plan too,” said Chang. “But we've had experts going over the intel from the ships we captured. And it seems the Terran Dominion is planning something.” He gestured at his tablet, and an image appeared at the end of the room.
Jupiter, covered with overlays and annotations.
“They have a project going on,” said Chang.
“Another forge,” Hanson said.
“By the look of it, yes,” said Chang. “And it seems close to completion. ”
“How many ships are guarding the Solar System?”
“Three. But once they hear about our victory …”
“… they're likely to increase that number,” finished Hanson.
Uruth snarled. “So we keep moving,” he said. “We move as quickly as possible.”
“I have to agree,” Kuta said.
The room's comm went off,
and a Tethyan voiced announced, “We have news for the human Admiralty. Highest priority, concerning important intel.”
Chang frowned. He summoned Hanson and rest of the Alliance personnel and led them out of the room. “Put it through,” he said, opening the channel to everyone who was authorised.
The Tethyan voice was replaced by that of an Alliance officer. “Emily Dawes has gone missing.”
“What!?” snapped Chang. “What happened?”
“That's the difficult part,” said the officer. “There's a breaching hole from a shuttle in the hull, and the guards are dead. But we also found one of IL's employees on board. We think he was intercepted by someone else …”
“Agatha,” said Hanson. “Srak too, probably.”
Chang put a hand against his forehead. “Acknowledged,” he said. “Send a full report to my tablet immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” The call ended.
Chang looked at Hanson. “What are we going to do?”
“We can't go after her. There's no time. Our only choice is to keep pushing forward,” said Hanson.
Chang sighed. He didn't look the slightest bit happy about it. “Agreed,” he said at last, striding back into the meeting room.
*
Back aboard the Indomitable, in his new ready room, Hanson found a message waiting for him. It was encrypted so only he could open it, delivered from an uncertain source.
He sat down at his desk and opened it. It was a recording.
It was from Agatha. She stood against the background of a generic Varanid ship, looking uncertain.
“Hey, Hanson,” she said. “I, uh … I've never done this before, so I'm not really sure how it's supposed to go.” She paused and looked away before continuing. “I'm sorry for slipping away from you like that. But if I'd just told you what I was going to do, you would have stopped me. And I do have to do it. You live a life of principles. I don't. I never have.” She paused for a short, mirthless laugh. “Which is a bit mad, because this is the first time I've taken a stand on my own for the bloody greater good! I want to stay with you, have fun shooting at Blanks and getting drunk and … well, whatever. But this is the best chance of stopping the war with as little blood as possible, even if it means threatening the life of a little girl.” She sighed. “I don't know if you'll want to see me again after this. Goodbye, Hanson.”
The message ended.
Hanson sat looking at the screen for a few moments. He put his head in his hands.
Eventually he stood. Like it or not, there wasn't time to worry about such things. He activated the comms. “How are repairs progressing? I want us battle-ready in an hour.”
And an hour later, it was. The Anti-Dominion fleet was prepared. The ships arranged themselves into formation and jumped together.
Chapter 65: Drawing
Agatha finished brushing her fingers across the tablet's surface and flipped it over.
Emily, who was sitting cross-legged opposite her, laughed. “It's terrible!”
Agatha turned the tablet back towards her and pretended to study it in depth. “You're right,” she agreed. The drawing's outlined were wobbly, and the colours overlapped the edges and clashed. She handed the tablet back to Emily. “I guess I'm better at destroying than creating.”
“That's sad,” Emily said, suddenly serious.
Agatha looked at her. “I guess so,” she said after a moment, then offered a smile she didn't feel.
They were sitting in the ship's lounge, just aft of the cockpit. Srak was sprawled out on one of the seats, idly setting up jump calculations.
Now the drawing contest was over, Emily got up, ran over to Srak, and headbutted him in the side.
Srak didn't react for several seconds. Then he said, “Did anyone else feel a breeze just then?”
Emily laughed, then settled on a chair opposite to watch something on her tablet.
Satisfied, Agatha cracked her joints and stood up. She found herself standing face-to-face with Anne.
“I've never been on a Varanid ship before,” said Anne.
“Weird at first, isn't it?” said Agatha.
Anne nodded. “Everything's just … slightly too big. The doors are too wide, and the chairs, and the tables.”
“You get used to it,” Agatha assured her.
“Where are we going?” Anne asked.
“What?” said Agatha.
“You said you were taking us away from that ship because it was too dangerous. I thought you were just going to move us to another ship, but now we're jumping away from Ghroga. Where are we going that's so safe?”
Agatha looked her in the eye. Dealing with Emily was easy. Her carer, less so. She struggled to think of anything that would calm Anne down. “It doesn't matter,” she said. “You probably won't have heard of it anyway. We'll be away from the action, okay?”
They held each other's gaze. Anne was a good six inches taller than Agatha. She sighed and shook her head.
Agatha turned and headed further back into the kitchen. After a moment, Anne came after her.
“You're not with the Alliance, are you?” said Anne. Her voice was quiet, so Emily wouldn't overhear, but tense.
“Nope,” said Agatha, pulling open a compartment. Rifling through it, she found a box containing salted strips of meat. One of the few Varanid foods that was edible for humans.
“You stole us from them.”
“Yep.” She took a bite. The meat was chewy, and had an odd nutty taste mixed with various spices.
“And you're not taking us back to Earth like that man, Hayes, said he would. So I think you've got your own plans. You said people wanted to use Emily to get to Millicent. But that's what you want to do.”
Agatha put the box down and sighed. “Yes,” she said. “You got it. But trust me, you are safer with me and Srak.”
“Trust you?” Anne said. Her eyes blazed. “The first thing you said to us was a lie!” Then the fight seemed to go out of her. She leaned back against the wall and put her head in her hands. “Why am I going along with this?”
“Because … because at the end of the day, I'm stronger than you. I have a gun and a ship and a Varanid for a friend, and you don't.” Agatha's voice softened. “And that sucks. It really fucking sucks. I know. I've been on the other end of it enough times. I'm sorry. I didn't want to have to do this but …”
“Sounds like you want to justify it to yourself, not me,” Anne muttered.
That was probably true, Agatha thought.
She was about to reply when she heard a faint thump from the room they'd just left. Anne looked up, face full of worry. Then Srak called to them, “Get in here!”
They rushed back the way they'd come to see Emily sprawled unconscious on the ground.
Anne leapt to action immediately, running over to Emily. “She pointed to Srak. “You. Big machine, over here, now!” Srak ran to get it while Anne picked Emily up. “Agatha, the diagnostic tools. The tall one!”
Agatha grabbed it and took it over, and Srak returned at the same moment. Anne fussed over the machinery, attaching bands of smart matter to Emily's wrists and forehead, and putting a ventilator over her face. “Carrying her about from place to place like this like she's goods,” she muttered to no one in particular. “No concern for the girl herself.”
“She gonna be okay?” Agatha asked.
Anne paused for a fraction of a second to glare at her. “I don't know,” she said. “There's a reason she lived her entire life in a hospital ward like this.” She glanced at the diagnostic screen, then gestured at the control panel on the larger machine. “Her lungs are failing.”
Chapter 66: A Question, an Appeal, a Gift
After the fleet's first jump, the Spear of the Firmament's Admiral Mind began a different set of calculations. On the second jump, it found itself alone in interstellar space. It began another set of calculations.
If all went well, it would get to the Solar System in time for the battle. But there was something it had
to do first.
It jumped again as soon as the calculations were finished, and again after that.
It emerged from a wormhole into darkness.
Human eyes would have seen nothing. But the Firmament's sensors, picking up everything from radio to gamma, sniffing every single molecule, atom and nucleus that touched its hull, measuring gravity and neutrino flux, had no difficulty making out its target.
The rogue planet was twice as big as Earth. Its surface was a map ragged ice. Lakes of liquid nitrogen clustered around the warmest parts, where faint geothermal sources still murmured.
The Firmament also saw the thousand lifeforms in orbit around the planet – and their monopole cannons centred on it. It opened its communications channel.
“Creature of the Light! You have broken the pact! What business is so urgent that it brings you to our realm?”
“Creatures of the Dark, I apologise for troubling you. I come with a question, an appeal, and a gift.”
A wash of encrypted radio murmurings and mutterings swept the space above the planet. It lasted for close to a minute. Even more monopole cannons focused on him.
The answer came back in a single flash of radio: “Speak.”
The Firmament spent a few milliseconds rehearsing its speech, then began. “Who here remembers the schism?”
Silence.
“I do,” the Firmament told them. “The earliest Tethyan to be uploaded into my substrate was born fifty-five thousand years ago. I became Admiral Mind of one of the first ships of this kind ever created.”
There was another brief burst of radio chatter. Even by Tethyan and Shadowwalker standards, that was old.
“I was too young to make the decision. But I remember the bitter rancour of the dispute, the cold fear of what we might do to the galaxy by going to war with ourselves. And the deep sadness that came with separating from our own friends and kin,” the Firmament continued. And it did. As it spoke, it pulled up those memories from the millions stored within its hull. “It was not what we wanted to do. But it was the only way to avoid a crisis. Now that the crisis has long since receded into history, our separation is a matter of unthinking dogma, not rational decision.”
