The Pike Chronicles: Books 5-8 (Pike Chronicles Space Opera Book 2)

by G. P. Hudson

  Colonel Bast felt their presence the moment his ship landed in this system. The Cenobi were here. Not physically, of course. They had given up their bodies long ago. But within their technology. They swam through the billions of satellites surrounding the system’s red giant star, simultaneously occupying each flat panel, and others just like them in other star systems. He felt their gaze as his ships passed, and their silent question.

  Do you all feel them? Bast asked, through his brain chip’s connection to the Chaanisar on board.

  Yes, came the simultaneous response from his crew.

  What about you, AI? Are you aware of the Cenobi’s presence?

  I see their technology, said AI.

  That is not what I meant. Can you feel their presence?

  No, I cannot, said AI.

  Your AI is a computer program, not a life form, said a new voice in Bast’s head. One he instantly recognized as belonging to the Cenobi. It cannot sense us as you can.

  Bast looked around the bridge with a questioning glance. Each crewmember returned it with a nod, confirming that they too heard the voice. Does this sense have something to do with the modifications you made to our brain chips the last time?

  Yes. The modifications allow you to speak to us.

  I didn’t have any problem speaking to you last time.

  That was because we connected with you. Through this modification, you can sense our presence when we are near, and can initiate communication if you so desire. If you were to reconsider our previous offer, for example, you would have the means to contact us.

  Thank you for the modification, but we have given you our answer.

  To your detriment. Your position is misguided. We offer you eternal life and unlimited power. How can you turn that down?

  You assume that we want to live as you do. This is where you are mistaken.

  No. It is you who are mistaken. You are sentimental. Attached to your corporeal form. It limits you. Constrains your understanding of all that is possible. You exist within limits. We offer unlimited freedom.

  Bast shook his head. You deceive yourself. You exist within algorithms and machinery. While this is the source of your power, it is also your prison. Do you even remember what a cool breeze felt like against your skin?

  We have retained all our memories. We can relive any experience.

  To relive an experience is not the same as having one. As I have said before, our implants were used to enslave us. The last thing we wish is a greater merger with technology.

  Are you sure?

  Bast gasped, along with every other Chaanisar in the fleet. The flood of information overwhelming. What is happening? Stop! What are you doing to us?

  The Cenobi answered. We are providing the understanding you lack.

  Bast dropped to his knees, hands clawing at his temples. It’s too much! Make it stop!

  It is but a conduit. Control its flow. It is in your power to do so.

  Bast felt as though a spike was being driven through his mind. I don’t know how.

  Will it.

  What?!

  You are technology’s master, not its slave. Wield your will and tame it.

  Not knowing what else to do, Bast tried to follow the Cenobi’s instructions. With some effort, he discovered the solution. He had viewed the sensory onslaught as something the Cenobi were doing to him. As such, he had pleaded with them to stop. Instead, he reframed the context and tried as the Cenobi suggested. To his surprise, the flood slowed. As each Chaanisar followed his lead, he felt their relief. Understanding followed. Then awe.

  By nature of their implants, a Chaanisar was used to simultaneously dealing with multiple sensory experiences. At any given moment they might be processing information from the ship, each other, and even AI, all while going about their duties and interacting with the non-augmented members of the fleet. But this was like nothing any of them had ever experienced.

  What is all this? Bast said as he tried to sort through the endless stream of information.

  Our eyes, said the Cenobi.

  Bast began to understand, just as his mind closed in on the system’s red giant star. He focused on its majesty, and was awed by its power. Suddenly he realized that he could feel the star’s power as if it was his own. The Cenobi were harnessing the star’s energy. Taming it.

  Look deeper, said the Cenobi. Find the others.

  At once Bast saw all the stars under Cenobi control. It left him breathless.

  You could have this, said the Cenobi. All of it.

  Bast saw the cluster of stars at the center of the swirling Andromeda Galaxy. Millions of them, circling a supermassive black hole. Then he saw the Cenobi plans to envelop the galactic center and harness its power. For a moment, he thought the plans impossible, but the Cenobi showed him that they had the means, and the intent, to make it a reality.

  Join us and become a god, said the Cenobi.

  Feeling more comfortable, Bast explored the Cenobi’s reach. With a mere thought, he moved across the Andromeda Galaxy, from one star system to another. The experience was humbling. While the different races fought for control of this galaxy, the Cenobi had quietly conquered it.

  You misinterpret what you see, said the Cenobi. The other races seek conquest, control of each other. We merely seek enlightenment.

  It was then that Bast saw it, and his exploration came to a stop. A great Var fleet. He didn’t know how, but he knew they were coming. He had to warn Admiral Pike and the rest of the fleet.

  Join us. Free yourself of these concerns. Why trouble yourselves with these meager conflicts?

  Thank you for allowing us to see through your eyes, but we cannot abandon our people. They need our help.

  To give up so much, for so little in return….

  As quick as it came, the Cenobi stream disappeared, leaving Bast struggling to regain his bearings. Once he had, he opened a comm. Within moments, Admiral Pike’s face appeared on Bast’s display, “Admiral,” said Bast. “We have a problem.”

  Chapter 7

  “A Var fleet is coming, Admiral,” Colonel Bast said urgently.

  “How do you know this?” said Jon, puzzled by the Chaanisar’s message.

  “I saw the fleet. The Cenobi shared their sight with me.”

  “Shared their sight? You mean they contacted you?”

  “Yes, Admiral, but we don’t have time. I will explain everything later. We must prepare for battle now.”

  Jon didn’t need coaxing. He had learned to trust Colonel Bast, and this situation was no exception. “Sound general quarters, all ships.”

  “General quarters, general quarters. All hands man your battle stations,” Commander Henderson announced over the ships public address system to the entire fleet. A blaring klaxon accompanied the alert, and the bridge glowed in red light.

  “Jumpspace disturbance detected,” said the computer. “Enemy vessels identified. Initiating jump bomb strike.”

  As the enemy armada appeared, there was nothing to indicate that the jump bombs hit their marks.

  “Report,” Jon said, his blood beginning to boil.

  “Jump bomb strike had no effect,” said Henderson. “The Var shields are preventing the jump bombs from landing within their ships.”

  “Are they having any effect on the shields?”

  “Negative, Sir. It appears that the shields have blocked the bombs from landing anywhere near their ship.”

  “Prepare a high yield nuclear jump bomb strike,” ordered Jon. “Detonate the bombs just outside the Var shields.” Based on the previous battle with the Var, nukes appeared to be the only sure way to disable those shields.

  “Sir, the Freen have jumped into close proximity with the Var,” said Henderson. “It puts them within the nuclear blast radius.”

  “Damn it,” said Jon. “Hold the nukes, but continue with the conventional jump bombs. Same targeting parameters, just outside the Var shields. Fire at will.”

  This time the Var shields glowe
d orange with each jump bomb detonation. But to Jon’s frustration, the hulking black warships withstood each strike, shields remaining intact. The Var ships roared to life in response. Crimson bursts of energy surged forth from the black guns. When they hit the Freen vessels, the energy didn’t reach the hulls. Instead, it dispersed, spreading around the ships until it dissipated, causing no damage.

  Jon opened a comm with Commander Booch, and he soon appeared. “Commander, why have you jumped in so close with the enemy?”

  “We are your Honor Guard,” said Booch, as if that explained everything.

  “But we gave you our jump bomb technology.”

  “It is useful, but the Var would counter its effects by closing with our fleet. That puts the Foreseen at risk.”

  Jon was beginning to understand. The Freen were trying to tie up the Var, and keep them at a distance, and out of range of Jon’s battle group. While the Freen were outnumbered two to one, Jon’s ships could continue using the jump bombs to lend support from a distance.

  “Launch bombers,” ordered Jon. The Freedom’s bomber squadrons had just been upgraded with the added protection of Freen shield technology. Their heavy torpedoes might help to bring down the Var shields.

  “Bombers away,” said Henderson.

  “We’re sending our heavy bombers for additional support. I’ll see what else we can do. Pike out.” Booch vanished from the comm, and Jon turned his attention to his tactical display where his bombers appeared as they jumped in. Each one launching their heavy torpedoes before jumping back to the Freedom to rearm. Clenching his fists, he studied the Var shields as the torpedoes struck. They took on the now familiar orange glow but remained intact. Jon could only hope that the Var shields were weakened.

  A new development proved far more worrisome. With the Freen ships outnumbered, the Var were now moving to flank them on the one side. The Freen had focused their fire on the Var center, to disable those shields quickly, but that left them vulnerable on their flank. The Var took advantage of their weakness and closed in.

  Jon had seen enough. “Commander, notify the rest of the battle group that we are going to jump in and close with the enemy.”

  “Yes, Sir. Relaying message.”

  Jon activated his tactical jump display, overlaying a grid onto the surrounding space with a corresponding set of coordinates. He touched a spot on the grid just behind the Var fleet’s center. “Helm, initiate short range jump to selected coordinates.” A moment later the viewscreen filled with the Var fleet, as the battle group jumped in directly behind the enemy. “Fire at will, all weapons.”

  All seven ships in the battle group came to life, as energy weapons, missiles, and rail guns lashed out at the enemy’s rear flank. The jump bombs continued to pound the Var shields, and the Freedom’s bomber squadrons resumed their sorties.

  Commander Booch appeared on Jon’s comm screen again, this time flapping his arms in protest. “Why have you put yourself at risk?” the Freen commander demanded.

  “I’m not going to stand by and watch your ships get slaughtered.”

  “Correct. You should leave this system, while we engage the Var.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m not going to run away like some coward.” While the jump systems were depleted, they could still use the FTL engines to escape. But it would mean leaving the Freen to a certain death, and Jon had no intention of abandoning his new allies.

  “You are the Foreseen. Your destiny is greater than any one battle. You must escape.”

  “Sorry, Commander. I’m not going anywhere. And if it’s all the same to you, I’m a little tired of hearing about my destiny.”

  “You are the Foreseen. Your role was determined long ago. We are your Honor Guard. We will do our part. We will lay down our lives so that you can continue. It is all as it should be.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The Freen commander cocked his head. “What is the meaning of this word. There is no translation.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” said Jon. “What I mean is my actions are not dictated by some prophecy, regardless of how much you believe they should be. I make my own choices. I dictate what happens. And I have chosen to stay and fight, so deal with it.”

  “No. This is a violation. A sacrilege. It cannot be permitted.”

  “Am I the Foreseen?”

  “Yes.”

  “And are you presuming to dictate to me?”

  Booch tilted his head sideways and flapped his arms with renewed vigor. “No, Exalted One. I am but a servant.”

  “Really? You do not act like one.”

  “Forgive me, Exalted One. I forgot my place.”

  “I’m not running away. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Exalted One.”

  “Now I suggest we focus on winning this battle so that I can fulfill my destiny.”

  “Yes, Exalted One.”

  “I am sharing my tactical display with you.” Jon circled his finger around a group of Var ships. “We are going to focus our fire on this group of ships in the center. Our combined firepower should allow us to break the Var center and link up. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “Let’s get to it.”

  The fleet retargeted its weapons, aiming for the handful of Var warships in the center. The enemy shields were powerful, but they proved no match for the fleet’s combined firepower. The targeted ships’ shields blazed a brilliant orange before finally collapsing. The fleet continued to hammer the prone vessels with an unrelenting onslaught until ultimately, each one blew apart.

  The Freen moved quickly to fill the gap created in the Var line, and join with Jon’s battle group. The maneuver was successful, but not without cost, and two Freen ships on its exposed flank were destroyed in short order. But the Var line had been broken, and the fleet now had at least a chance, however slim.

  “Jumpspace disturbance detected,” said the computer. “Enemy vessels identified. Initiating jump bomb strike.”

  “What?” said Jon. “On main viewscreen.”

  The viewscreen transitioned to display the new arrivals, and Jon’s heart sank. A second Var fleet had arrived, much larger than the first. Any hope they had was lost.

  Chapter 8

  “Initiate nuclear jump bomb strike,” ordered Jon. “Maximum yield. Targeting only the shields of the second Var fleet.”

  “Yes, Sir. Readying nuclear strike,” said Commander Henderson.

  The second Var fleet steadily advanced on Jon’s position. Soon they would be in weapons range, leaving Jon’s ships outnumbered by a good four to one margin. A nuclear strike was the only option left. He needed to disable as much of their shields as possible before they closed in. With any luck, they would destroy a few ships, but the hard truth was that he would still be woefully outnumbered.

  “Nukes away,” announced Henderson.

  On the viewscreen, the second Var fleet illuminated in blazing white halos as the ships’ shields absorbed the nuclear blast.

  “Again. Hit them with another nuclear strike,” said Jon, as concussions repeatedly rocked his ship. With foreboding, he glanced at one of the many bridge displays, this one indicating that the Freedom’s shields were down to thirty-five percent. The pounding they were taking would soon bring down his own shields. He didn’t need to pull up the numbers on the rest of the fleet to know that they were all facing the same conditions.

  The second Var fleet accelerated just as the second nuclear strike hit them. Their shields once again burned white hot, but this time several of the halos collapsed, leaving the ships exposed. Unfortunately, they were entering weapons range and had no opportunity left to inflict more damage. Moments later, their great black guns came to life, hammering the Freen ships closest to them. For the Freen, this was too much to bear. Shields went down on multiple vessels. Detonations soon followed, as ship after ship buckled under the weight of the Var onslaught blowing ferociously apart.

  “Hit them again,” said Jon. “Maximum yield.”


  “Sir?” said Henderson.

  Jon understood his XO’s concern. The Var were close enough that there was a substantial risk of the nuclear blast hitting his ships. Their situation was desperate, however. “Do it.”

  “Yes, Sir. Nukes away.”

  The jump bombs hit, immediately destroying several of the Var warships. Others were left visibly damaged, the hulls gaping as they vented debris into space. Some of the Var ships lost their shields, while others held, glowing bright white. An indication that they had at least lost some integrity. The fleet continued to advance, and their guns continued to fire. The nuclear blast had the adverse effect of further weakening several Freen ships, which the Var opportunistically targeted to hasten their demise. As the Var continued to close the gap, the option of a fourth nuclear strike was taken off the table.

  “Shields below ten percent,” said AI. “Failure is imminent.”

  On his tactical screen, Jon noticed something peculiar. The Chaanisar were breaking off and accelerating, heading straight for the second Var fleet. Jon opened a comm with Colonel Bast and Colonel Steeg, and their stern faces appeared on his comm display. “What the hell are you two doing?”

  “It is the only way,” said Bast.

  “What do you mean?” said Jon. “Why are you breaking formation?”

  “We intend to sacrifice ourselves to destroy the enemy.”

  Jon was stunned. “A suicide attack?! No. Out of the question.”

  “Forgive us, Admiral,” said Colonel Steeg. “But we respectfully must disobey your orders.”

  “Unacceptable. There must be another way.”

  “There is no other way, Admiral,” said Bast. “You know as much. It is the least we can do, after all you have done for us. It has been an honor.”

  “Sir, something is happening to the star,” said Henderson.

  “On main viewscreen,” said Jon, wondering what else could go wrong.

  The viewscreen reoriented to focus on the systems red giant star, which at first glance looked like it was becoming even larger. But Jon quickly realized that it wasn’t the star itself, but the Cenobi panels surrounding it. They seemed to be expanding, pulsing outward. Suddenly, a flash of blinding light burst forth from the panels, and everyone on the bridge shielded their eyes. The viewscreen went dark in response.