Tethered Worlds: Star in Bankruptcy

by Gregory Faccone

  “Perigeum squadron going aggressive,” the tac officer said. “Reuleaux triangle formation.”

  The bulging triangle of ships continued point-first toward Aventicia, with the First Cruiser firmly ensconced in the rear waiting for its moment to strike out.

  “I think it's time, captain,” Kord said.

  “Alpha Squadron, battle stations,” Arceneaux ordered. “Cascading wall formation. Form up on the Thunars and the command cruiser.”

  It was a good choice. Each mini-wall, a triangle of three ships, would be anchored by one of their heavy ships and act as an independent fire group. Although the dusty command cruiser, purchased by a Far Worlds up-and-comer from Castellum's mothball fleet, would be an under performer at best.

  More likely a big target.

  He wondered if Castellum regretted the sale now that so much ship replenishment was necessary after the Incursion at Windermere.

  The entire situation, in the span of a few short minutes, had turned unfavorable. Even if Mason somehow kept the Svals at bay, Alpha Squadron had little chance against the P-stars backed by the First Cruiser. The latter would be practically invulnerable because of those two hybrid Aegis destroyers.

  Their march toward the heart of the system was looking unstoppable. Slowing them might be their best outcome barring the unforeseen... or a miracle.

  It's happened before.

  Kord looked to the jetty. If the Trade Union turned hostile it would be all over for Aventicia Defense. Without their galleons to coalesce around, they'd be chased out of the system.

  It was coming together in Arceneaux's eyes, too. “The galleons have to launch!”

  ▪ ▫ ▪

  Blue lines glowed along the tapered barrel of the First Cruiser's Artemis cannon. They glowed brighter than before. The ship was finally at full power, and ready to reach out with unstoppable might.

  It drove its point home, literally, as it sliced though the restricted space of the once impregnable banking world. Civilian ships were bailing out of Aventicia's infrastructure ring by the dozen. Haulers pushed off early. Shuttles bolted for the nearest beam to the surface. Commships dashed for hilltop.

  Aventica Orbital Patrol, which wouldn't approach an enemy warship at grister-point, couldn't control the near-panic. Aventicia Defense was also in crisis. Frenzied comms bounced from ship to ship. The backbone of their fleet were the galleons, but only one was out in space. One had been stolen by the Svals, and six lay crippled and locked down in the Jetty.

  As for the Banking Confederation's Confidence Fleet, they were finding their tactical position most troublesome. The system was scrambling before a series of events no one could have predicted. Almost no one. For the pivot upon which this chaos rested was the First Cruiser, but that ship's true loyalty was to itself.

  On the flag bridge in its massive central hull the architect of this spectacle reveled. Janus didn't consider himself a schemer. That was petty. He was a grand planner. Humanity would move into the future regardless of who was at the controls. They could walk with him, or stumble with buffoons like Parium or the failing Cohortium Magistrate Van Buren.

  Tone deaf fool. If those two ran things civilization just might swirl down into a singularity.

  The First Cruiser was more formidable than the sum of its weaponry. It was a mobile fortress, indestructible within its Aegis escorts. A platform from which he could exert his will. He would eclipse the Sojourners of old, wielding great power from their mighty castle ships.

  His father had fought the Sojourners, back when they took to the battlefields. He engaged them right on their home turf at Neumanus. For while the masters of mystic could only be matched by their fellows in combat, they were but individuals. They fell to the power of organization and numbers.

  But behind those numbers was a bitter price. Janus scowled, and swallowed back a sudden rise of bile. He would make them pay, and ironically with their own technology. For this time mystic was on his side.

  He stood before the command chair, relishing a panoramic VAD. Mystic hybrid Aegis destroyers, their own blue lines glowing along their hulls, guarded his flanks. And he stood upon the most powerful gun in space... barring mystic craft of old.

  Why must there always be that exception?

  He looked behind him. The display showed a war-era ship with glowing golden lines signifying its full mystic construction. Let the Archivers tag along and see the fruits of their tech. They came through at last after all the funding he'd shunted their way. Bitterness toward them could be overlooked today.

  A beautiful face suddenly popped into his grand vista. The priority VAD was, in this case, an interruption he relished.

  “This is Vittora Wilkrest, civilian representative of the Asterfraeo based Confidence Fleet. We've been asked by the Banking Confederation to watch over Aventicia as they navigate this time of temporary crisis. As this is sovereign Banking Confederation territory, and intentions have become unclear, we must ask forces belonging to the Trade Union, Svalbergen Blacksea Corporation, and Perigeum Starmada to withdraw to hilltop immediately.”

  His rapt attention was broken by another presence invading his space. He whipped around into the face of Leisal. She was staring at the priority VAD, her irises fluctuating wildly between her dull gray and reddish brown.

  “What are you doing wasting cycles with that stupid expression?” Janus scolded. “Confirm which ship she's on you ingot.”

  “We've heard the intent of the Perigeum regarding what some are calling a coup attempt,” Vittora continued. “Until more evidence regarding this becomes clear, Perigeum and all outside forces will stand down and not interfere with Aventicia's internal matters.”

  He smiled at the woman, while ignoring her message. Many interlocking cogs were turning according to his plotting. He glanced over his shoulder. He didn't need concerns about a malfunctioning android interfering. A private comm interrupted. Although unpleasant, he had to receive it... for now.

  He switched his station to private and sat.

  Vizier Kartoosh's dour face appeared. His attire looked the same, although he'd changed the color of his business collar to a barely-glowing, dull green.

  “Blending in with the locals, Kartoosh?”

  The man was unperturbable. “Many here on the surface are exorcised by the Shadow Board. A few riots have spontaneously erupted in a number of major cities.” A mirthless twinkle crossed Vizier's eyes. “Who knew so much dissatisfaction with the current regime was seething beneath Aventicia's placid surface.” He briefly looked off to the side. “I see the Blacksea Corporation is back. They seem poised to thin forces... ah, shall we say, hindering your progress?”

  “Perhaps they prefer the demon they know to a group of lawyers wielding a Law and Commerce Fleet.”

  Vizier allowed a thin smile. “We don't strive for popularity.”

  On that they were successful. Janus hated the man. At the Jetty, two groups of ships faced off.

  “Just see to it your people chase off the flies until the wind has settled.”

  “We can and will live up to our commitments. However, if something larger than a fly were to launch... well, unlike the brutes from Svalbergen, my associates are less likely to engage in profitless battle.”

  Janus narrowed his eyes. “We both have associates needing to be kept in line. Don't disappoint me.”

  “Aventicia's executives are suitably disturbed by the coup attempt. They're ready for change, for a new board amenable to our organization, and perhaps a new chairman. That is, of course, if you're the one who restores order.”

  A tactical alert chimed. Janus cut the comm. Perhaps in this new future they were crafting, he'd never have to see that man again. His panorama zoomed to the Asterfraeo group. Boxes and information lines flickered across the display.

  “Gimmelstau.”

  A VAD with the man's face appeared with no delay. But it bore little resemblance to his earlier incarnation. His gray hair was slicked and in place. His uniform
neat. Even his eye seemed less... squinty. He was a reflection of the First Cruiser's new crew. Those playing before were serious now. Those not playing were gone, or dead.

  “The Asterfraeo force is moving toward us faster than predicted,” the captain said. “While their split ruins our plan to double-end them, it still works in our favor. Their halves pose limited threat to our force, or the Svals.”

  “Keep on, captain. Don't slow for engagement until you absolutely must.”

  So there was boldness among the Asterfraeo flunkies. But it would take far more than three non-Sval Thunars and a dusty command cruiser to beat his force. A new indication highlighted one of the Thunars. Leisal's designation as the source of the transmission.

  He'd baited a mangy cur for trapping, but he might also nab a lioness. He allowed that thought to linger before clearing privacy mode. Leisal was standing at her station. Her android hair style, sporting that huge roll, suddenly straightened. It flopped down only to weave itself into braids. Just as quickly the braids unraveled and the original hairstyle rebuilt.

  She caught him looking and offered the vapid, bubbly smile of Leisal.

  Janus reengaged privacy mode.

  “Dysig.”

  The android was a fine piece in Sytorra mode, but the development process was becoming burdensome.

  Dysig appeared. “Prime Orator.”

  His complexion and eyes looked artificially stimulated, as if the man had not slept in some time. But his countenance seemed excited.

  “Your slag of an android is malfunctioning. I'm not a drakking bitsmith but even I can see the personalities are clashing.”

  “There might be some minor bugs.” Dysig looked to the side and his eyes darted. “Yes, my monitoring has detected iris coloration variance. I'm sure I can—”

  “The thing's hair just changed and reset before my eyes, and it seems oblivious.”

  Dysig's countenance sank fast as his eyes continued scanning. “Oh... Uh, I'll have to do a deep restructuring after this is over.”

  Janus bit back a retort and a threat. The link-head was important for the plan.

  “I need an adjutant. Is she up to the job or do I need to send her down to you?”

  “I'll make some gross adjustments. They should hold until we wrap this up. She may be a little off personality wise, but her functionality will be fine.”

  “It better be. What about the Jetty?”

  Dysig's face re-lit. “I control all its systems, even weapons. I have their bitsmiths running in circles. At least the ones not trapped in some dark side passage.” He chuckled. “They've rebooted one galleon sixteen times.” The man could be insufferably smarmy. “It keeps failing right at the last minute. So tragic.”

  “It's in your best interests to see that they continue to fail. Don't scorch this up.”

  The galleons were too valuable to lose, and too dangerous to loose, until under his authority.

  Janus stood, shutting Dysig's comm with a dismissive wave. The unconventional collection of parties he'd gathered to fulfill his ambition was stranger than fiction. No one but him knew all the secret deals, and no one would believe them anyway.

  Behind him, the Confederated Comm shill began his report.

  This aught to be good.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  THE FIRST CRUISER RISES FROM THE ASHES

  ALONG WITH THE PRIME ORATOR'S PEACE EFFORTS

  Aventicia, Banking Confederation

  Keats Keating

  Confederated Comm staff writer. 336/2615

  The Prime Orator continues negotiations to stabilize Aventicia, the Banking Confederation hub within Perigeum space. The System has not only become a crossroads of conflicting interests, but now a potential coup attempt. Janus has accomplished the impossible by bringing forth a salvage of his First Cruiser. His desire is to thwart armed threats from within and without that endanger our financial system. The Trade Union, a collection of concerned parties, continues to watch the Aventicia Defense escort fleet with their own flotilla. Like Janus, their concern is Aventicia's starmada falling into the wrong hands.

  But the Prime Orator has greater concerns. “When the Banking Confederation's pressure to conform Aventicia constitutes sending an Asterfraeo war fleet, we will most certainly step in. We haven't contended with the Asterfraeo Territories and fought for our principles all these years to hand over a key financial hub to their belligerency.” Markets are rebounding across the Perigeum with the news of the First Cruiser's miraculous rebirth. Even the reappearance of the dreaded Svalbergen Blacksea Corporation has not diminished the exuberance.

  “Someday we might achieve peace with Svalbergen,” the Prime Orator stated. “Until then, I'm content to let them be a thorn to Asterfraeo forces that may be coercing Aventicia's Governing Board. We're a long way from the Palisades. The Asterfraeo is out of their sphere of influence.” Janus believes there are too many unanswered questions. He has dedicated himself, at great personal risk, to the reformation of Aventicia before he leaves office. No additional Perigeum Starmada units will be called upon beyond his diplomatic escort, as to not risk the long-standing treaty with the Banking Confederation.

  ▪ ▫ ▪

  Aurora was doing well camouflaging one of history's great space-fighting gems. The faceted crystal ceilings of her passages were dark, even dull. Drones had been ordered to open panels and leave equipment strewn about. Jordahk looked over his shoulder. Zoraida was still too keen to take it all in despite these efforts. His uneasiness grew.

  “Darren mentioned your transport was a Shade Momentum charter,” Jordahk said. “Won't there be trouble for misplacing it in a potential war zone?”

  “It's just a tool.” The disinterest in the subject was a contrast to her eyes. “Shade Momentum owes me more than that for their Fruilieste contract.” Her vision switched, boring into him again. “You seemed rather exorcised at the actee.”

  “The entire premise was wrong.” Jordahk tried to play it off as historical inaccuracy. “Centurions usually fought alone in their specialized ships.”

  “You know a lot about mystic.”

  He shrugged. “I am a relic hunter.”

  “And also an imprimatur. Why are you hiding it?”

  “More like I'm not advertising it.”

  She motioned toward his wrist. “Is that how you obtained your mystic compy?” Jordahk started to make an innocent face of denial. “Please, it's obvious.”

  “Uh, it's complicated. I don't really own this compy.” Could he possibly be more vague?

  “I have a line on one. Should get it soon.” Her eyes gleamed. “So powerful. How is it?”

  “This one's a handful.”

  That deserved an understatement award. Wixom and Max. The strange entity, Judicum. Pops's data construct, Ohrias. And now CraArch. His wrist was becoming a personality convention.

  The final causeway to the bridge was a beautiful piece of architecture, even compacted and folded. Past it, layers of hatch pulled aside revealing a control center too quiet. Pools of light made soft circles around the captain's chair and officer stations. The forward viewport was reduced to a small, dull square showing Concourse in little detail.

  Jordahk moved without pause to the command chair, not because he thought himself worthy of the succession of captains Aurora had been graced with, but because he didn't want Zoraida to grab it. He ordered up a tactical overview, and a crisp, 3D VAD, out of place in the current surroundings, came to life.

  Jordahk's brows furrowed. “The Perigeum flagship? What's going on?”

  “Hmph. The Svals are back,” Zoraida said. Of all the crazy things comprising the current tactical situation, including the reborn First Cruiser bearing down on them, that was her first reaction? “I've got to get back to our fleet.”

  “Perhaps you've noticed Janus's ship and his rather aggressive formation of Perigeum Starmada are cutting us off. Our fleet is splitting.”

  My father's caught on two fronts!

 
Zoraida was nonplussed. “Even I know you're supposed to avoid doing that.”

  Kord would see them move. It was best to stay off the comm until there was something to say.

  “Since I'm running a taxi service, we'll swing wide by the Jetty. Maybe I can pick up who belongs in this chair.”

  The Aurora burst forth with enviable acceleration. It was smooth and kept ticking higher.

  “What kind of ship is this?” Zoraida asked.

  “Just an old corvette with an exceptionally fast star keel.”

  “So what did you do at the Egress Incident? Fly this ship?”

  “No, no. Darren described it well enough. Some small action in space which distracted our opponents.” She seemed too eager to accept that he played a role, and too dismissive of his downplaying.

  Zoraida scrutinized the tac VAD. “Apparently the loyalty of Aventicia Defense and the Jetty are suspect. The Trade Union is keeping a close watch.”

  “You make it sound rather altruistic for a Confidence Fleet rep.”

  “What are you implying?”

  Jordahk gestured to the group of ships surrounding the carrier and three cruiser-class monsters. “I think everyone knows they're Consortium. And if it's a Law and Commence Fleet, they'll be looking for any legal edge to move in.”

  Zoraida lifted one eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  Alarms interrupted them. “The Jetty is going weapons hot!” Aurora said.

  “What? Who are they firing at?” Jordahk asked.

  “It's the Trade Union,” Max said.

  Bright pinkish beams lanced out into space from the asteroid base. The Trade Union flotilla had kept themselves out of effective range. It was wise considering the fusion-based power of a stationary emplacement. Even so, the beams sliced passed escorts to slam into two of the cruisers. Shield plasma arced away from the ships, making a spectacular show, but causing little damage.

  The Trade Union sprang into action, hardly needing to modify their already aggressive formation to attack. The warship from another era, the mighty mystic carrier reconfigured. The cavernous receiving bay below and aft, extended outward. The ring expanded too, pulling away from the giant vertical fin of decking scaling beyond its height. The bays opened.