“And,” Jade continued. “The Third Fleet would counter-attack. Your ships might fail to destroy the weapon.”
“When a whole world is at stake—”
“And we don’t know if the only version of the weapon is on Covenant. What if there’s another? Nahanni,” Jade said, putting as much into the words as she could, “you must trust me. Let us handle this. We will return to Covenant and see that the weapon is destroyed, and that the co-ordinates of Nessh’uarin vanish from human knowledge.”
“What can that one do?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“If Nessh’uarin is destroyed, there will never be peace. We will be devastated, but we have other worlds. We will fight until the last Gara’nesh is dead.”
“What did you once tell me true peace was, Nahanni, and how it could only happen when both sides acknowledged the other to be equally creatures of the First One? We are in this together. We are partners.”
“If my people survive, are we to live as exiles and fugitives among the stars?” Nahanni said.
The Gara’nesh’s deep-set eyes burned into her own. Jade could almost feel his confusion and hurt, his desire to trust, but the hesitation to do so. Would she be able to leave the fate of the Earth in the hands of a Gara’nesh?
“Would the Maker-of-all allow his people to perish? Give me a chance, Nahanni. If your fleet attacks, the war will continue for certain.”
Jade wondered what was going on behind the unblinking eyes. The sense of Nahanni’s alienness returned full force, as it hadn’t since the first time she’d met him.
“Please, Nahanni. We’ve come so far. We can’t turn back now. Our people are meant to be friends and brothers, not enemies.” She clenched her fists. “If you wish,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper, “I will give you the co-ordinates of Earth—our home world.”
“Jade!” Kuchera gasped.
She ignored him and concentrated on Nahanni.
“Jade!” Kuchera repeated.
“It’s fair,” she said tightly. “We know the co-ordinates of Nessh’uarin.”
“But—”
“Trust has two sides, Troy.” She faced the alien. “Nahanni?”
Slowly, the Gara’nesh extended a digit.
Jade stretched out her index finger, but halted the movement centimeters from Nahanni’s.
After a long pause, Nahanni said, “The co-ordinates are not necessary. This one will trust. But only for one of your days. If this one does not receive word that the weapon is destroyed, Ambassador Halaffi will be informed.”
“Agreed.”
Nahanni touched her fingertip, the temperature of his digit uncomfortably warm. “Do not fail, Jade Lafrey.”
“I won’t,” she said, with more confidence than she felt. “God willing, I won’t.”
She watched as Nahanni rose and tottered back down the docking link to his own ship.
Inwardly, she shook. She’d offered to give Earth’s co-ordinates to a member of the enemy race. Years of training had conditioned her against such a treasonous action. Part of her trembling was relief that Nahanni had refused the information. Part was shock that she’d even suggested the exchange. Part was that she knew she’d been right to do so.
“We have our work cut out for us,” Kuchera remarked.
Jade gestured the two men towards the bridge. “Then we’d best be at it.”
By the time they were seated on Starwind’s bridge, the docking link had been severed. Nahanni’s ship moved off, heading away from the white dwarf to a safe distance for transition.
The delicate vessel dwindled from sight.
Then, with a blaze of light, Nahanni’s ship disappeared. Jade stared into the viewscreen at the starfield. She wondered if she would ever meet the Ship-keeper again. Or would this corner of the galaxy plunge deeper into irrevocable war from which no peace could ever be salvaged?
“Do you think he will keep his word?” Emmers asked from the pilot’s seat.
“Yes. But I hope I didn’t promise more than we can deliver.”
“We just have to make certain we succeed.” Emmers’ voice was soft. He, too, was watching the fading aura from Nahanni’s ship.
“Shouldn’t we be going?” Kuchera asked.
“Never arrive together, never leave together,” Jade replied. “We’ll wait a few minutes.”
“Ma’am!” Emmers exclaimed. “Ship on scan!”
Jade swung towards him. “Where?”
“Just transitioned! Bearing down fast. Range 500,000 kilometers and closing!”
“Somebody found us,” Kuchera said.
“Their weapons are armed!” Emmers continued.
“Shields up!” Jade snapped. “Get us moving!”
“Ma’am—it’s a—”
“I know what it is! Move!”
Emmers’ hands played over the console. Starwind accelerated.
“What is it?” Kuchera asked, trying to see the scan readout.
“Star frigate,” Jade replied.
“One of theirs?” Kuchera gasped, suddenly pale.
“Ours. And judging from appearances, they mean to kill.”
Perched like a vulture on the bridge of Star Frigate Vindictive, Major Blair Iverson rubbed his chubby hands together. A malicious smile puckered his cheeks. For once, the pain in his wrist gave him pleasure, throbbing as if in anticipation of revenge.
“There she is,” he purred. The screen showed the slender Starwind silhouetted against the nameless planetoid.
“Now I’ve got you,” he muttered. “Dead to rights.”
The transition residuals from a Gara’nesh ship were still evident. Consorting with the enemy. Treason. Court martial. Death penalty.
“Starwind taking evasive maneuvers, Captain,” the tactical officer said to Vindictive’s commanding officer. “Raised their shields.”
“What are your instructions, Major Iverson?” Captain Robert Ullie looked over from his command seat towards the Political officer.
“Destroy it.”
The captain stared.
“Destroy it, I said!” Iverson shouted.
“Standard policy is to attempt contact—”
“No!”
“Starwind is Jade Lafrey’s ship, isn’t it?” Ullie asked.
“Starwind is run by an enemy of the Hegemony, Captain!”
Ullie exchanged a glance with his first officer.
Iverson intercepted it. “What’s the matter, Captain?” he sneered.
“You know very well,” Ullie replied.
Iverson flushed. “If you don’t like taking orders from me, then remember what Admiral Gellner told you. My instructions are to be followed.”
Ullie sighed. “Very well, Iverson. Weapons to bear, Mr. Cray. Flank speed, helm.”
“What about their shields, sir?” Cray asked.
“They won’t last long,” Ullie replied. “Not against us.”
Iverson smiled. He enjoyed being able to give orders to superior Naval officers. It was a habit he could become used to.
Starwind swelled rapidly in the holoscreen.
“Prepare to fire,” Iverson heard Ullie say. He readied himself for the enjoyment of Jade Lafrey’s death.
“They’re on us!” Emmers brayed. “We can’t stand up to a star frigate’s firepower!”
Jade’s mind raced. Behind her Kuchera’s rapid breathing blew heat on the back of her neck. Her hands left sweaty streaks on the console.
Adrenalin coursed through her. Her heart pounded.
Then, in a flash, her mind cleared.
“Take us down, Rick.”
“Down?”
“The planetoid,” Jade said. “Now!”
Emmers complied.
Starwind dived, shredding the space that distanced her from the airless planetoid.
Jagged peaks and spears of rock reared towards them.
“What are you doing?” Kuchera gasped.
“You’ll see. I hope.”
Jade re
ached out and tapped on the console. Starwind's insystem drive crescendoed as she accelerated faster.
“We’ll crash!” Kuchera hid his face from the devastation rushing towards them.
A black needle of rock thrust upward, ready to impale them.
“Now!” Jade commanded. “Pull us out!”
Emmers nodded in sudden understanding.
Scant kilometers above the wicked spikes, the ship curved, following the arc of the planetoid. The cratered rubble blurred beneath them. Starwind's structure groaned. Jade clung to her seat, conscious that Emmers and Kuchera were doing the same. The blood drained from her head as the inertial compensators whined in protest.
“What are they doing?” Iverson shouted. “What?”
Ullie didn’t raise his voice. “Circling the planetoid, by the look of it.”
“Why?”
Ullie cast him a scathing look. “Why do you think?”
“Don’t just sit there!” Iverson frothed, the veins at his temples bulging. “Do something.”
“Range, Mr Cray?” Ullie asked.
“Extreme limits for the lasers, sir. Too much spread for the coil guns.”
Ullie looked from the screen to Iverson’s engorged face. “Target lasers and fire, Mr. Cray.”
“Firing now, sir.”
Starwind shuddered.
“They’re firing on us!” Kuchera gasped.
“What did you think they were going to do?” Jade retorted. “Deliver flowers?”
Starwind shuddered again, harder.
“Hit!” Emmers said.
“Damage?”
“Minimal. Roessler-space commlink.”
The star frigate disappeared from the screen, hidden by the planetoid’s bulk.
“Take us out.” Jade said. “Full acceleration.”
Starwind streaked away from the planetoid.
“What now?” Emmers asked.
“Pray that we bought enough time,” Jade replied, “and that we’re out of range of their lasers long enough to reach a safe distance for transition.”
Emmers nodded. “Good thinking, ma’am."
“Let’s hope it’s good enough.”
“Can’t you cut it closer?” Iverson snapped, standing close to Captain Ullie.
“No,” replied Ullie, equally sharply. “A star frigate isn’t as maneuverable as a scoutship.” His lip curled. “There are such things as inertia and angular momentum to be considered. They don’t pay any attention to Politicals.”
Iverson glared.
The massive star frigate swept in a large arc around the planetoid. The screen cleared.
Starwind was a bright pinpoint of receding light.
“They’re getting away!” Iverson screamed.
“Out of range, sir,” the tactical lieutenant reported.
Iverson swore.
“Full speed, helm,” Ullie ordered.
Vindictive surged ahead.
“They can’t outrun us,” Ullie said. “We’ll catch them. Unless—”
With a burst of rainbow light, Starwind transitioned.
Troy Kuchera wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, leaving a dark stain on the fabric. “That was close.”
“Too close,” Jade agreed. “You’re pale.”
“Don’t I have a right to be? It’s not every day that I’m faced with between being burned to a crisp or smeared across the face of a planet.”
Jade turned to Emmers. “Good flying, Rick.”
“Thanks, ma’am. That was a good idea.”
Jade laughed wryly. “It was my only idea. Were we able to ID that frigate?”
“I’ll pull up the records.” Emmers busied himself. After a moment, he said, “Vindictive.”
“Bob Ullie’s ship?”
“Registry confirms. Captain Robert Ullie.”
“I know Bob Ullie,” Jade mused. “This isn’t like him. He’s acting under orders.”
“But whose?” questioned Emmers.
Blair Iverson swore with a ferocity and comprehensiveness that left Captain Ullie blushing, hardened as he was.
Iverson rounded on the frigate captain.
“This is your fault, Ullie! You let them get away!”
Ullie’s clean-cut face darkened. “Don’t be an idiot, Iverson!”
“I’ll have your stripes for this!”
Ullie laughed. The action only served to make Iverson even more angry.
The Political officer pointed a stubby finger. “You can laugh now, Captain, but you won’t be laughing when we get back to Covenant.”
“Point of fact, Iverson,” Ullie said. “Your orders were followed to the letter. Any of my officers will confirm that. Take a look.”
Iverson ran his eyes around the bridge. The faces were grim, hostile. Iverson felt acutely out of place, the only maroon uniform in a sea of blue and white.
“If I were you,” Ullie said pleasantly, “I would be extremely worried about what Admiral Gellner thinks of your failure.”
“We’ll see about that, Ullie,” Iverson said. “Set course to return to Covenant.”
“I would be delighted,” Captain Ullie said.
The non-ness of Roessler-space swirled across the screen. Jade thought the colors infinitely pastel compared to the grim grey of the planetoid.
Or the grimness of her mood at this moment. It was bad enough holding Kuchera’s life in her hands; now, knowing the location of the Gara’nesh homeworld, she held the alien race’s very existence within her grasp.
Humanity had the chance to end the war, once and for all.
But at the cost of another intelligent species’ very existence. To drive a species to extinction went against the grain of her being.
But what was the alternative?
If she succeeded in destroying the Hegemony’s doomsday weapon, what then? What if the Gara’nesh were to go on and win the war, perhaps developing a doomsday weapon of their own? Would she have committed the ultimate betrayal of her own kind?
Would the Gara’nesh exterminate humanity?
Jade Lafrey, traitor.
She made no move to exit Starwind's bridge. Neither did Kuchera or Emmers. They remained seated, as if each needed the presence of the others.
Once a weapon was used, it could never be un-used.
If the Hegemony had developed a star-killer, eventually the Gara’nesh would, too.
She had a vision of stars exploding all across the galaxy, of supernovas incinerating the habitable worlds, until none remained.
Dead planets circling dead stars.
The extinction of life.
She looked at her hands.
There it lay; the fate of the galaxy.
Neither her training nor her Faith had prepared her for this.
“I have a question,” Kuchera said, breaking the silence. “If the purpose of this plot is to destroy the Gara’nesh homeworld, then why not just do it? Why go through all of this farce?”
Jade pulled her mind away from her worries. “As I said earlier, those in control of the weapon may be afraid to use it without provocation. Even though the supernova might seem to be a natural phenomenon—and blue-white stars do have a shorter life span than yellow ones—we can now assume from the readings we took at Markher 12 that the star-killer leaves a distinctive Roessler-spatial signature. Eventually, knowledge of the weapon would leak out.”
“OK.”
“The second would be for delaying tactics. If the weapon isn’t quite operational, they may be playing for extra time.”
“Makes sense,” Kuchera said. “We should let Member Maricic know.”
“How?” Jade asked. “The Roessler-space commlink is down. Unless there’s any chance of repairing it?” She directed her question to Emmers.
“I don’t think so, ma’am. Look at this.” Emmers pulled up a visual of the damaged area.
Black streaks mottled the hull, burned into the tough metal. The commlink—what remained of it—was a molten and shapeless blob of met
al and composites.
“I could send a repairBot out, but…”
“There’s no chance of fixing that,” Jade commented ruefully. “We’re lucky it was only the commlink and not the drive vanes. Let’s just hope we arrive at Covenant before anything happens.”
“So who’s behind this plot to destroy Nessh’uarin?” Kuchera asked. “Gellner?”
“Yes,” Jade replied. “I’d be very suspicious of Admiral Gellner. Lewis Gellner,” she repeated, the name bitter in her mouth, “whom I thought would have been above such a scheme.”
FOURTEEN
The scene at Covenant appeared unchanged as Starwind re-entered the Gamma Hydra 4 system. The two huge fleets still defied each other across a billion kilometers of space like dogs snarling over a bone, waiting for the boldest to make the first move. The Gara’nesh fleet lay in a threatening battle formation, the Third Fleet more dispersed, except for the nucleus of Remorseless and her sister ships Wrathful, Dominator, Desolation, Vindicator, and Indomitable.
Starwind fled towards the waiting ships.
“Vindictive just transitioned astern,” Emmers reported, studying the scan readout. “She must have made better time than we did.”
“Not surprising,” Jade replied. “Without our drive upgrade she’d have been here waiting for us.”
Jade studied the ship dispositions. “Take us straight in.”
Emmers’ eyebrows elevated. “Against directives, ma’am.”
“A scoutship is hardly a star frigate,” Jade explained. “And the hangar bay is big enough.”
The comm panel blared a recorded message: "You are entering a restricted zone. Leave the area or you will be fired upon. Repeat: You are entering a restricted zone…"
Emmers said, “Call from Second Admiral Vespage, ma’am. Scan shows Remorseless is underway on an intercept course. She’s arming. Vindictive is closing fast.”
Jade grimaced. Starwind couldn’t hold her own against one star frigate, let alone a pair of the Hegemony’s most modern warships.
“Put Vespage through.”
“Without the Roessler-space relay, there’ll be a time lag,” Emmers said.
“Thanks for the reminder,” Jade replied.
Wreaths of Empire Page 28
