Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1
Page 1
Contents
Copyright
Traitor
Epigraph
Chapter 1: Providence
Chapter 2: Thessaly
Chapter 3: Contact
Chapter 4: An Engaged Citizenry
Chapter 5: Darkstream
Chapter 6: UHS Buchanan
Chapter 7: Fesky
Chapter 8: Roostship
Chapter 9: No Micromanager
Chapter 10: Space to Breathe
Chapter 11: Spank
Chapter 12: Larkspur-Caprice
Chapter 13: Collision Course
Chapter 14: Shadow
Chapter 15: Two Fingers
Chapter 16: Ambush
Chapter 17: Coffee Station
Chapter 18: Ek
Chapter 19: Questions
Chapter 20: Insubordinate
Chapter 21: Conspiracy
Chapter 22: The Children
Chapter 23: Strange Diplomacy
Chapter 24: Ocharium Barrier
Chapter 25: One Thing at a Time
Chapter 26: Copilot
Chapter 27: Caine and Ryerson
Chapter 28: Blackwing
Chapter 29: XO
Chapter 30: Check the Action
Chapter 31: Chicken
Chapter 32: Madcap
Chapter 33: Negotiations
Chapter 34: Tyrannical Dogs
Chapter 35: Prophecy
Chapter 36: Article Fifteen
Chapter 37: Five Minutes
Chapter 38: Captain Teth
Chapter 39: Incoming Transmission
Chapter 40: Ochrim
Chapter 41: HQ
Chapter 42: Hostage Situation
Chapter 43: Review Board
Chapter 44: Killing Machines
Chapter 45: Interrogation
Chapter 46: The Chain of Command
Chapter 47: Oh Two Hundred Hours
Chapter 48: A New Golden Age
Chapter 49: Flying Monkeys
Chapter 50: The Wrong Question
Chapter 51: Into the Fray
Chapter 52: The Battle of Larkspur-Caprice
Chapter 53: Four to One
Chapter 54: Rain Hellfire
Chapter 55: The Galaxy Is Watching
Chapter 56: Gone Rogue
Chapter 57: Legitimacy
Chapter 58: War Room
Chapter 59: Faith
Chapter 60: The Quality of a Breath
Chapter 61: Home
Chapter 62: A Head for Battle
Chapter 63: Weapons Manifest
Chapter 64: Wingleader Korbyn
Chapter 65: Stealth Tech
Chapter 66: Broadside
Chapter 67: Hot Landing
Chapter 68: SNAFU
Chapter 69: Surprise
Chapter 70: Toast
Chapter 71: Breach
Chapter 72: Kamikaze
Chapter 73: On My Mark
Chapter 74: Scattershot
Chapter 75: At Any Cost
Chapter 76: Brave Bastard
Chapter 77: Impact
Chapter 78: Rolling the Dice
Chapter 79: Stims
Chapter 80: Berserkers
Chapter 81: We Hold On
Chapter 82: Company
Chapter 83: Backs to the Void
Chapter 84: Descent
Chapter 85: Flockhead Bytan
Chapter 86: Overridden
Chapter 87: Diplomacy
Chapter 88: Trust
Epilogue: Victory
Dedication
Acknowledgments
SUPERCARRIER
© Scott Bartlett 2016
Cover art by Tom Edwards (tomedwardsdesign.com)
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 License. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0
This novel is a work of fiction. All of the characters, places, and events are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, businesses, or events is entirely coincidental.
Traitor
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and read Traitor for free, the prequel to Supercarrier, the moment it’s available.
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Tell the doomed not to hide
Tell them not to fear
Their borrowed day is done
And panic does not become them
Their struggling will hasten the fall
Their hope will darken the void
Their rage will expose their primitive roots to the stars
Ardent’s chosen will bring the universe salvation
It will begin with the soulless vessel sinking
-The Ixan Prophecies
Chapter 1
Providence
“Providence, this is the Gadfly. Requesting permission for landing. I have Captain Vin Husher aboard.”
“It’s First Lieutenant, now,” Husher said, but the freighter captain had already taken his thumb away from the transponder. The man reddened at his mistake, but to correct it would prove even more embarrassing, for everyone.
“Gadfly, this is the Providence. You are cleared for landing on Flight Deck E.”
They watched as the supercarrier grew bigger on the viewscreen—even larger and more beat-up than it looked in the news vids. Still, the sight made his skin tingle. No one could deny the ship’s majesty—or its quiet dignity, with massive primary flight decks spread out like wings. Or its menace. The Providence bristled with artillery.
Command kept the old juggernaut out of sight as much as possible, but the public demanded to be kept updated on Captain Keyes’s doings. Just knowing he was out there, completing missions without reliance on dark tech, made people feel safer.
Having recovered somewhat from his cringeworthy flub, the freighter captain attempted to make amends. “It’s been an honor having you aboard, First Lieutenant Husher.”
Husher suppressed a bitter chuckle. The freighter captain had barely spoken during the journey into the Bastion Sector, and only once since they’d entered the Larkspur System, to tell his passenger they’d arrived. But silence was better than other types of treatment Husher’s name had earned him in the past.
“It’s been a pleasure traveling aboard the Gadfly,” he said. “I’m sorry you were commandeered for the purpose of transporting me. I hope the Fleet’s compensating you for your time.”
“They compensated me,” the freighter captain said. “Some.”
Not nearly enough to make up for lost profits, I’m sure.
Flight Deck E sat empty, and no one came out to direct their landing, apparently confident that it would be pretty hard to screw up. A strip of dim lights offered a half-hearted suggestion of where to touch down, and the freighter captain took it, executing a much gentler landing than Husher would have expected.
By that time, Husher had already donned a pressurized suit and was waiting near the airlock, where he’d clipped himself to the bulkhead in case the freighter’s landing had been closer to his expectations. The captain reappeared just as Husher finished entering the temporary security code he’d been given to open the airlock.
“I wanted you to know…I was a boy when your father took the fight to the Ixa. He was my hero, back then. I-I don’t believe what they say about him. I don’t think he was a traitor.”
“I do,” Husher said, punching the button to open the airlock. He stepped inside and turned
to lock eyes with the captain as the bulkhead came back together. The hiss of departing atmosphere began.
A row of inactive Condor fighters caught his eye as he walked through the void of Flight Deck E. The Ocharium nanites in his suit and his cells attracted the captured Majorana fermions in the deck, keeping him firmly anchored and simulating one G. For a moment, he wondered whether floating away might not be a better fate than getting consigned to this ship. According to research he’d conducted aboard the Gadfly, only two of the Providence’s eight flight decks saw very much action. I’ve been consigned to a museum, not a battleship.
Husher stepped out of the flight deck’s airlock to find a woman dressed in full fatigues waiting for him on the other side. He chuckled. “Expecting a battle, Sergeant?”
“Actually, yes.” She was having trouble hiding her disdain for him, and her eyes narrowed as they lingered on his facial hair. “In the Bastion Sector, there’s always a battle on the horizon. You’ll learn that soon enough. In the meantime, I’m here to take you to the captain.”
“Lead on, then, Sergeant Caine,” he said, reading from her nametag.
For all the ship’s size, the corridors that networked the Providence were incredibly cramped. Atmosphere was expensive, after all, mainly due to the cost of hauling it up from a livable planet’s gravity well. Dark tech had enabled many things, but it hadn’t been much of a boon to life support systems. So the parts of the ship where the crew lived and worked were kept as small as possible.
“First Lieutenant Husher reporting for duty,” he said once he was inside the Captain’s office. The room was sparsely decorated—a photo here, a certificate there. Husher snapped off a salute.
“At ease. And close the hatch.”
Husher did so, turning to stand with his feet spread apart and his hands folded behind him. He was not invited to sit. Instead, Keyes took a moment to study him.
“A beard,” the captain said.
“Yes, sir. I grew it during my voyage on the Gadfly. Do you like it?”
“It looks fine. It’s also against Fleet regulations. I want it shaved.”
“But you’re no stranger to skirting Fleet regs, sir. At least, if your reputation is any indication.”
Keyes fixed him with his famous impassive stare—the one he always wore in the news vids. It was bracketed by bushy eyebrows. “I’m also no stranger to having my orders carried out efficiently and without question. That goes for battle ops and it goes for how my crew present themselves—to each other, to their allies, and to the enemy. Shave the beard.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your arrival comes as something of a surprise. Fleet Command chose to notify me a mere five hours ago, despite that you’ve been on your way to the Larkspur System for days. Reading between the lines, I take it your reassignment to the Providence is meant as an additional disciplinary measure, on top of your demotion. Is that how you see it too, First Lieutenant? Speak freely, please. I would know your mind.”
No problem. “Well, considering the Providence is understaffed, underfunded, basically on its last legs—”
“My ship is not on its last legs.” Suddenly, Keyes’s stare was anything but impassive, and sweat gleamed on his dark skin. The captain’s broad shoulders rose and fell with deepening breaths.
“You asked me to speak freely.”
“And now I’m inviting you to stop. Given your sudden arrival, I have to quickly figure out where you’ll fit in. For now, I’m sending you planetside under the command of Sergeant Sera Caine, who you just met.”
“Planetside?” I just got here.
“Correct. Thessaly, to be specific.”
“But I’m a Condor pilot.” Not to mention a ship captain, before I was demoted.
“Your files say you have some skill in diplomacy.”
“Xenodiplomacy. I minored in xenodiplomacy. Thessaly is a human colony.”
“Nevertheless. Those skills may come in handy. And it can’t hurt to get some on-the-ground combat experience.”
“Combat experience?”
“Do you plan to parrot what I say a lot, First Lieutenant? Yes. Combat experience. Sergeant Caine is leading a strike against a band of radicals who have been attacking Ocharium mining operations in the Caspar region. You’re to accompany her. Are we clear?”
“Clear, sir.”
Except, Husher was only clear about one thing. Keyes is hiding something from me.
Chapter 2
Thessaly
Whenever Husher went on a mission in the Bastion Sector, the same thought always ran through his mind: So much bloodshed over one mineral…
This time was no different, as he entered the shuttle and looked for an empty seat. To be fair, Ocharium wasn’t just any mineral. Basically everything contained it, or at least everything that went into space. There was exactly enough Ocharium in any given object so that it interacted with a Majorana-infused floor as though in a one-G environment.
After Husher strapped himself into a crash seat, he couldn’t help eyeing the coal-black reentry suits encased in plastic at the back of the shuttle. They were meant to enable the wearer to survive a fall from space in the event of a critical shuttle malfunction, but they’d only ever been used by one person, resulting in his death.
A marine strapped in across from him apparently felt the same way. “Admiring Fleet’s idea of a safety precaution?”
Husher nodded. These suits looked like the latest version, but he wasn’t convinced they were any better than their predecessors. “We had them in our shuttles too, back on the Firedrake.”
“Firedrake, huh? What was your position there?”
“It was…” My first command. My last command. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
To Husher, the reentry suits symbolized everything wrong with Command. The way they rushed new technologies without properly considering the consequences.
The shuttle shuddered and bucked as it entered Thessaly’s atmosphere. “Engage active sensors,” he heard Caine say near the front of the shuttle. “I want to feed the AI as much intel as possible before it suggests a landing site. Limit its range to within five kilometers of the target. And tell our escort of Condor pilots to keep their eyes peeled, in case the radicals scramble fighters of their own.”
The shuttle’s AI would be a weak one; more a collection of advanced interdependent algorithms than a self-aware intelligence. Strong AI was outlawed, but it hadn’t always been that way. Humanity had been on its way to developing strong AI when they’d made first contact with an alien species.
The first Winger Roostship entered Earth orbit and sent down emissaries to tell humanity what had happened when Wingers had almost developed a strong AI—the near destruction of all life in the galaxy. Ever since, galactic law had prohibited their creation.
It turned out it was impossible to control a superintelligence, no matter how meticulous the programming. Go figure.
Humanity had come far, since then. In return for their cooperation in the matter of the AI, the Wingers had offered to help them ascend into the stars, to enter the galactic community. How mighty the Wingers had seemed to Husher’s ancestors.
How things have changed.
Before they departed the shuttle, Sergeant Caine directed Husher toward the small weapons locker near the exit. “Take your pick, and grab an ammo belt. The guns fire Darkstream-issue bullets, Ocharium-enriched, but Captain Keyes refuses to take their smart guns.”
“Dumb guns. Gotcha.” Husher lifted an assault rifle from its rack and checked the action.
“I assume you know how to use one of those?”
“I mean, I completed Basic.”
“Uh huh. I want you in the center squad. Just keep your ego in check and don’t do anything stupid, all right?”
“How do you divide up your platoon?”
“Listen and learn.” Caine started doling out orders, her small frame exuding confidence and authority. “Our mission is to reach the city cente
r and take out the radicals’ base of operations. Davies, your squad’s on point, and I want more responsiveness than I got out of you last time. Trust your gut, and don’t hesitate to keep me informed of potential threats, even if they seem unlikely. I’d much rather get some bogus information with my intel than walk into danger I know nothing about.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Caine’s dark brown ponytail whipped about as she picked out others in the crowd. “Ryerson, bring up our rear. Those Ardent-worshipers know this terrain way better than we do, and they’d like nothing more than to stick it to our ass. Wahlburg, I’m sending your squad roaming. Radio in about anything you stumble on that might interest me.”
Wahlburg was grinning. “So, if I find an Ardent-worshiper who’s your type…”
“Can it, Wahlburg. Watching you try to hit on Davies is more than enough comedy, for my taste.”
The marine platoon produced a chorus of Os, and then Caine raised her arm. “Move out!”
Four squads poured out of the shuttle and deployed according to Caine’s orders, fanning out through the blistering city. Husher stuck close to Caine, feeling far removed from any possibility of actual combat. So much for getting experience…
They huddled near the corner of a building while one of their squad peered up and down the street for signs of danger. Sweat had already begun to build up under Husher’s helmet and slide down his face.
“How am I supposed to curve my shots with this old-fashioned load-out?” Husher whispered to Caine.
“You don’t. The Ocharium repulses the axions in the air behind the bullet, speeds it up, but nothing else.”
“Wow. Feels almost like I’m back in the twenty-first century.”
“It’s a compromise between the old man and Command. He takes their bullets but not their smart guns.”
“Why not, though?”
“Because smart guns can be turned off.”
“Only by Command. Right?”
“Are you always this chatty on a mission? Come on.” Their scout had given the all-clear, and they jogged around the building, holding their weapons at the ready.
Gunfire sounded from up ahead, and Caine’s hand leapt to her helmet. “Davies! Sitrep!”