God Ship (Obsidiar Fleet Book 3)

by Anthony James

  “Fire,” said Blake. “Lambdas only.”

  Hawkins acknowledged and sent the launch command. Lambda missiles burst from their tubes and sped towards their target. Blake’s tactical screen filled with tiny dots.

  “Fire again as soon as reload is complete.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The second salvo followed the first, and another four hundred advanced missiles twisted and turned through space towards their target.

  Blake intended this as a probing attack, to see if he could prompt a response from the enemy ship. The response came quickly. A wave of invisible force rippled outwards from the Gate Maker, expanding in all directions. The first salvo of missiles met this wave and a moment later the second wave did the same.

  “Those missiles are dead,” said Hawkins. “Guidance and detonation systems gone.”

  The wave enveloped the ES Abyss, sending needles bouncing from one side of their gauges to the other and back again. Three of the eight processing cores went straight to one hundred percent utilisation and remained there for a second before slowly dropping.

  “What the hell?” asked Quinn. “That was like the anti-missile system we’ve seen Neutralisers and the Vraxar battleships use. Except that one was far more powerful.”

  “I want another launch – stagger it this time. Lambdas, Shimmers, Nukes, Lambdas, Shatterers. Then try and hit them with a particle beam.”

  It took a few seconds for Hawkins to set up the firing pattern. Once done, she triggered a sequence which would launch the missiles in a set pattern. The crew watched anxiously as the warheads headed through space.

  “They’ve used that energy wave again,” said Quinn.

  “Let’s hope they can’t use it too regularly,” Blake replied.

  The energy wave trashed six hundred inbound missiles and sent the warship’s instrumentation into a temporary frenzy of misreads. The ES Abyss was equipped with a rapid-reload mechanism for the Lambdas and it spat them out in a near-continuous stream. It was the Shimmers and nuclear missiles which Blake was most keen to hit the target and he clenched his fists, willing them onwards.

  “There’s another energy burst from the Gate Maker,” said Quinn. “And a fourth.”

  “Shimmers and nukes have been disabled.”

  “Damnit!” snarled Blake, thumping his fist down.

  “If you want my opinion, they aren’t even trying, sir,” said Quinn. “There was only a two-second interval between those last two energy bursts.”

  “I’m going to use the particle beam,” said Hawkins. “There’s no overcharge without the Obsidiar core.”

  “Give them the front and rear, Lieutenant.”

  The ES Abyss’s front and rear beam domes hummed and thumped. Invisible lines of energy connected the warship and the Gate Maker for a split second before the discharge was complete.

  “That’s done…absolutely nothing?” said Pointer.

  “Looks like,” replied Hawkins.

  “There’s a slight increase in their hull temperature where we hit them,” said Quinn. “They’re either dispersing the energy internally or our particle beam is being broken up when it travels through those energy bolts its giving off.”

  “At least it’s defensive only,” said Blake. “I’m sure it would have fired at us if it was capable. Turn the Bulwarks on it.”

  “The Bulwarks are set to automatic,” said Hawkins.

  The ES Abyss was fitted with eighty-four of the large-bore, high velocity cannons. It could only bring fifty of them to bear on the Gate Maker at the same time. The rapid-fire thrum echoed through the walls and hundreds of thousands of projectiles streaked towards the enemy ship.

  “They’ve got an energy shield,” said Quinn. “We might knock it out eventually.”

  “Not before the Bulwarks burn out and shut down,” said Hawkins.

  “Maintain fire at thirty percent of maximum, Lieutenant.”

  “Roger.”

  Lieutenant Cruz cleared her throat. “I’ve joined the monitoring drones’ local comms network.”

  “Patch us through to New Earth Central Command Station,” said Blake.

  “The drones are waking up from ultra-low power sleep. It’s going to take a minute before they’re warmed up.”

  “Tell me when you can make the patch.”

  “The output from the Gate Maker has just made a big jump, sir,” said Quinn.

  The intensity of greens and blues climbed noticeably on the viewscreen. Not only that, but the lines of energy leapt progressively further and further away from the centre. The colours dimmed and Blake thought for a moment it was the sensors adjusting the brightness for comfort. It wasn’t.

  “The blues are fading out,” said Pointer.

  “And the greens are darkening.”

  “I get the feeling we’re too late, sir.”

  “There are only nineteen drones on the network, not twenty,” said Cruz, more to herself than anyone.

  “We’re going to have to do something,” said Blake.

  “No, there are twenty drones, one of them is still offline for some reason.”

  “Forget about the drones, Lieutenant.”

  Blake knew there was only one course of action open to them. Their weapons were ineffective against the endless reserves of the Gate Maker. Time was running out and he was certain the Vraxar were close to forcing open the wormhole. The only hope was a high-speed collision into the Gate Maker’s shield in the hope they could overload it and make the enormous spaceship vulnerable to missile fire.

  “It’s not offline, it’s being held offline,” said Cruz.

  With his hands tightly on the control bars, Blake prepared to turn them in towards the enemy spaceship.

  “Oh crap!” said Cruz.

  She was another of the crew who rarely swore and her exclamation was enough to jar Blake to attention, though not enough to stop him beginning his manoeuvre.

  “We need an SRT! Now!” Cruz shouted.

  “What?” said Quinn. Too late, he saw the fleeting fission cloud of a spaceship arriving from a short-range jump of its own.

  Blake pulled the control bars hard left, his new course fixed in his head. Nothing happened. The lights on the bridge flickered, went out and returned. One-by-one, the crew’s consoles shut down. The distant pounding of the Bulwark cannons stopped, leaving the bridge utterly quiet.

  “Neutraliser,” said Blake. “How?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “It was out near one of the monitoring drones. I didn’t catch it straight away,” said Cruz glumly.

  “Not your fault, Lieutenant. We were acting under pressure and it was my choice for us to make the quick lightspeed jump towards the Gate Maker.”

  “I’m tapping into the residual power,” said Quinn. “We’re not going to have many options.”

  “I know,” said Blake. “I’d like to see what we’re facing.”

  The consoles came online, though most of the screens showed only partial information and many of the warship’s facilities were offline, inactive or just plain inaccessible.

  Pointer was able to get something from the front sensor array. “Check this out,” she said. “It won’t look great.”

  The warship’s sensors couldn’t focus over long distances when they were running off the residual power which remained in the Gallenium engines. On this occasion, the enemy spaceship was close enough to make out the details.

  “Look at the state of it,” said Hawkins.

  The Neutraliser was badly damaged. Much of its front nullification sphere had deformed from the effects of heat, whilst its main connecting struts were bent as if they’d been subjected to intense flames which had warped the metal. Blake guessed what this spaceship was.

  “It’s the Ir-Klion-6,” he said. “It’s the one Fleet Admiral Duggan told us about.”

  “The final vessel of the twelve which brought Ix-Gorghal through,” said Hawkins.

  “That may be the last Vraxar Neutraliser in Confede
ration Space, and here it is, right where we didn’t want it.”

  “Tough luck for us.”

  “Are any weapons available?”

  “I might be able to get a few Lambdas chambered. It’ll take out the final residual power.”

  “Best hold off. Can we get a message out through those monitoring drones?”

  “I think so. We won’t be able to hold a channel open, so it’s outbound only.”

  “Fine – make command and control aware of what we’ve found.”

  “Do you want me to pass on any recommendations, sir?”

  “I don’t think so. They’ve got people who’ll know what to do.”

  “I’ve sent the signal and received an acknowledgement from the drone telling me it has been successfully relayed.”

  “What do we do now?” asked Hawkins. “And why haven’t they killed us?”

  “I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

  “I’ve got a good idea why that is, sir,” said Pointer. “They’re waiting for Ix-Gorghal. Tassin-Dak wanted information from us, but he had no way of getting us away from the Abyss. This Neutraliser just needs to hold us here until Ix-Gorghal arrives. The Vraxar said he was carrying a billion soldiers and we can’t hold off that many.”

  “Ir-Klion-32 had a good few million as well,” said Blake. “When it comes to numbers, we’ve got one hundred and twenty soldiers onboard, plus crew.”

  “How long until Ix-Gorghal gets here?” asked Hawkins.

  “Anything from thirty minutes to two hours,” said Quinn, not making an effort to sound convinced at his own estimation.

  “We can’t just give up!” protested Cruz.

  “Who is giving up?” asked Blake. “Get through to the troop’s quarters and tell everyone to get suited up, if they aren’t already dressed.”

  The internal comms system used hardly any power and Cruz had no problems sending the command. While she was busy, Blake walked to the bridge locker and began dragging suits off the rack and dropping them onto the floor. There were also gauss rifles and pistols, as well as a couple of grenade belts. He picked out a rifle and tested its weight.

  “Our turn,” he said, pulling a suit up over his uniform. “Leave your consoles and come over here.”

  The others joined him in a group, fighting to get into the spacesuits as quickly as possible so they could return to their stations.

  The lights on the bridge brightened slightly and Blake saw lists of numbers scroll across several screens. He dashed to his console and attempted to access a few of the spaceship’s critical systems.

  “Are we back online?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so,” said Quinn, scratching his head.

  “What’s happening?”

  “There’s inbound comms,” said Pointer. “The source identifies itself as Ir-Klion-6.”

  Blake was rapidly becoming accustomed to surprises and this one was no more a shock than several others he’d experienced recently.

  “What do they want?”

  “To speak to you.”

  “Of course.”

  The connection was made and a Vraxar from the Neutraliser spoke through the bridge speakers. The tones were unmistakeably similar to those of Tassin-Dak and a picture was starting to build in Blake’s mind about the aliens’ command structure.

  “I am known as Renklan Vir,” said the Vraxar. “I command the Ir-Klion-6.”

  “I am Charlie Blake and I command the ES Abyss.”

  “Ix-Gorghal comes and Tassin-Dak is not happy at what you have done.”

  “Aren’t we all children of the Vraxar? Or is that just the kind of crap you inject into the minds of conquered species?”

  “Your words mean nothing. We have come and we will subject your race to conversion. Insolence is of no consequence.”

  “I assume you desire more from this conversation than a casual exchange of minor insults?”

  “I have been instructed to bring you to the Ir-Klion-6. This time you have no choice in the matter, since we have disabled your Gallenium engines and therefore your ability to launch your weapons.”

  “We have an Obsidiar bomb,” said Blake, testing his luck again.

  The Vraxar laughed. “There is no Obsidiar bomb, else you would have used it on Ix-Gorghal.”

  “Why would we allow you to bring us to your ship?” asked Blake. “Are you suggesting we voluntarily permit ourselves to be subjected to your truth drugs, followed by a conversion into one of your rotting soldiers?”

  “Not everyone, Captain Charlie Blake – we only need you. The rest we will allow to leave on one of your shuttles.”

  “In spite of your success when it comes to murdering other species, you don’t have a very good grasp of persuasion, do you?” asked Blake. “Let me enlighten you - in order to be successful at persuasion, it is vital that you make the other party believe what you say.”

  The Vraxar laughed again. It was the all-knowing sound of someone who had the upper hand. “What do you have to lose? Either we kill you or we let you go.”

  “I don’t intend being the one to tell you where to locate the rest of the Confederation’s worlds. You won’t find anyone here willing to betray our entire species.”

  “Your denials are only delaying the inevitable. Ix-Gorghal is in your territory and soon our Gate Maker will create an opening for thousands more of our fleet. We have the databanks from your warship Determinant and eventually we will unravel the secrets they contain.”

  “If everything is going so smoothly you won’t be too disappointed when I tell you to piss off, will you?”

  The connection went dead.

  “I think you annoyed him, sir,” said Pointer.

  “We’ve taken a particle beam hit aft,” said Quinn. “And now a second one.”

  Hawkins laughed. “It doesn’t look like they’re going to wait around for Ix-Gorghal to get here, does it?”

  “Their commanders are easily angered,” said Blake. “It’s something to bear in mind for the future.”

  The damage reports appeared on Blake’s screen. The Abyss’s armour plating had dissipated most of the heat, leaving the spaceship with only minor additional damage. As he watched, further reports were generated.

  “They’ve turned their dark energy beam on us as well,” said Quinn. “Two hits and they’ve put a big crater in our starboard side.”

  “The bastards are leaving us with just enough power to see what they’re doing to us and not enough to do anything about it,” said Pointer.

  “There was no choice,” said Blake simply.

  “You don’t need to say anything else, sir,” said Hawkins. “No one deals with the devil and comes out a winner. The only thing Renklan Vir had to offer was death and there was nothing you could do to change it.”

  “Definitely,” said Quinn. “I don’t even think he expected to get anything out of this. All he did was show there’s cruelty underlying the Vraxar. There’s a race amongst them who controls the others and they aren’t in it just for survival – this is something they enjoy.”

  “That’s what I thought as well,” said Cruz. “That conversation was part of a stupid game and we’d lost before it started.”

  Another particle beam hit the ES Abyss and another. The Neutralisers differed in how many beam domes they had fitted and the Ir-Klion-6 had twelve visible. They fired sporadically.

  “Renklan Vir is stretching this out on purpose,” said Blake.

  “Yep.”

  The Galactics were excellent damage soaks and the ES Abyss absorbed many direct hits. The warnings on Blake’s console turned to red alerts, which then became critical alerts. Several of their sensor arrays were disabled, followed by the navigational system. Finally, the life support system shut down entirely. Meanwhile, an alarm pealed incessantly on the bridge, accompanied by a strobing red light. The alarm was just loud enough to make conversation uncomfortable and Blake shut it off.

  “Keep me updated on our status,” he said. For all the good
it’ll do us.

  Pointer was able to bring up a feed showing the upper section of the heavy cruiser’s hull. It was an unrecognizable mess of burning metal and rivers of molten alloy.

  “Here’s the rear view.”

  The Abyss was leaving a trail of orange sparks and a streak of flame across the blackness of space.

  “It would be beautiful if I didn’t know what it was,” said Hawkins.

  “They’ve more or less burned out the engines,” said Quinn. “Even if they stopped firing now, the Space Corps shipyards won’t be able to repair us.”

  Blake felt something catch in his throat. The ES Abyss was a proud warship and it was terrible to see it being hacked slowly to pieces and unable to respond.

  “We’ve had a breach into the lower maintenance decks,” said Quinn.

  “Do we have enough power to seal the area?”

  “Yes, sir, it’s closing off.”

  “Any casualties?”

  “None reported.”

  “Tell the troops what’s coming,” said Blake. “Wait. It needs to come from me.”

  “I’ll get you through.”

  “Lieutenant Holloway?”

  “Hello, sir. It’s getting hot down here. We’ve been looking at the sensor feeds.”

  “This is the end, Lieutenant.”

  “Is there anything we can do, sir?”

  “I’m afraid not. We’ve got no power for weapons or escape and the enemy captain is determined to fire upon us until we are destroyed.”

  “I would have liked a chance to fight.”

  “I’m truly sorry, Lieutenant. It’s a soldier’s lot.”

  “Maybe in the next life, huh?”

  “At least the next life isn’t going to be as a Vraxar.”

  Holloway gave a laugh free of bitterness. “That’s something to celebrate.”

  “There’re a few of the guys who’ve had a good run. Tell them I’m sad it had to come to an end.”

  “I know the ones you mean, sir.”

  “I’m sad for everyone, not just those.”