“Excellent. Belay that order, Corporal. Ochrim, lead.” Husher repositioned his assault rifle, using it to nudge the small of the scientist’s back.
The Darkstream security personnel watched them leave the landing bay, most of them looking pretty angry.
“You’re a crazy person,” Davies whispered to him.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“Sure, but you’re acting in Captain Keyes’s name. You’ve ruined our relationship with Darkstream forever.”
“Who needs a relationship with them?” He sniffed. “Besides, Caine would have done the same thing.”
“No, she wouldn’t.”
“If you’d like my opinion,” Ochrim said, “I think you made the best of an unfortunate situation. Millions of lives hang in the balance, after all. Possibly even billions.”
“Thank you, Ochrim. That’s very principled of you.” Considering it was your shoulder about to get blown out. Husher glanced at Davies. “See?” He nudged the Ixan’s back with his gun’s muzzle. “Move a little faster, won’t you?”
Since the illusion of gravity was provided by Ocharium evenly distributed throughout everyone’s clothes and bodies, the designers had seen no need to hold onto antiquated notions like “up” and “down”. Instead, Darkstream employees could be seen working on both the “floor” and the “ceiling,” with long metal bars halfway up the walls, used to “fall” to the opposite level when changing orientations.
Notaras and her mercenaries trailed behind the trio at a safe distance. Husher liked that better than having them running off to receive further troublesome instruction from Steele.
As the strange procession moved through corridor after corridor, station personnel stopped whatever they were doing to gawk. Husher watched their eyes light up at seeing Ochrim, though their expressions quickly turned to fear when they noticed the goon holding an assault rifle to Ochrim’s back. And I thought my military career couldn’t sink any lower. Turns out this is rock bottom.
At least, he sure hoped it was.
Ochrim’s master control system for every UHF ship’s wormhole generator resided several levels down, near the core of the station. The room that contained it was small and out-of-the-way. Its ceiling was not in use as a floor, making it a novelty at Darkstream headquarters, and at its center—the room was circular—stood a pedestal atop which sat a simple console. Husher had expected the master control to take the form of a vast apparatus, but everything in here looked pretty regular.
“See those containers?” Ochrim pointed at stacked rows of black cubes encircling the shaft of the pedestal. “Each of those contains a micro-wormhole leading to a UHF ship’s wormhole generator. Someone used this console to upload the configuration that killed the crew of the Buchanan.”
“Can you ensure the integrity of the remaining ships?”
“I doubt I have enough time to inspect each ship remotely.” Ochrim glanced at the door, which Husher had closed and locked. Notaras was almost certainly waiting for them on the other side.
“Then why are we here, Ochrim?”
“I expected to have more time. But there is another way. Whoever used the control maliciously will have tried to cover their tracks, but I installed this console with subroutines that run covertly, logging all activity. Unless you know what to look for, you’d never know they were there.”
“Great job. So, you can tell what ships your master control was used to compromise?”
“Yes. But I can’t ensure it isn’t misused again.”
Husher nodded. “That’s why we’re going to destroy it once we’re finished. Now get to work.”
Chapter 43
Review Board
Though he knew full well just how unpleasant the conversation with Admiral Carrow would be, Keyes couldn’t help but feel a measure of pride. The Providence had accomplished exactly what she’d set out to do: find a way to stop the war. With wormhole generation back online, the Fleet was poised to restore galactic stability once more. Hopefully we can do it in a way that makes us less hated, this time.
Of course, the Buchanan incident had turned the Wingers into berserkers, and humanity’s military capabilities didn’t seem to factor into the aliens’ decision to launch an all-out offensive. Keyes prayed for a way to placate them that didn’t involve obliterating every Roostship. That process probably began with exposing the agents who’d arranged the catastrophe. Heads would roll—Darkstream heads and Fleet ones.
And then there’s the Ixa. If they had warships, and weapons new to warfare, what else might they have? Not dark tech. If they had that, they’d have used it already.
A chilling thought. With the ability to generate wormholes wherever they pleased, the Ixa could carpet every human colony with nukes. It could happen without warning. They don’t have it. They can’t.
“Keyes,” Admiral Carrow spat the moment his gaunt face appeared on the console.
“Hello, sir.”
“Do you have any idea what deep shit you’re in?”
“Surely no deeper than the shit I would have been in had I not discovered the fifty-two agents intent on the destruction of my ship.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“We visited the Kaithe, Admiral. They uncovered the traitors for us, and those that survived are cooling their heels in my brig as we speak.”
In record time, Carrow’s face flushed crimson. “You allowed the children inside your heads? That’s strictly forbidden by Fleet regs!”
“I had no choice. I’d already found out about the traitors from other intel, and approaching the Kaithe was the only way I could come to trust my crew again.”
“What other intel?”
Keyes took a breath. “We had a Fin come aboard.”
“You brought a—” Carrow cut himself off as he bracketed his face with his hands and appeared to squeeze his own head rather tightly. “I don’t know how you got a Fin onto a spaceship, and I don’t want to know. You are so out of line it isn’t funny.”
Oh, I don’t know. If you look at it in the right light… Keyes suppressed a smile. Husher’s rubbing off on me. “Sir, that’s not all. I have reason to believe that agents within Darkstream and the Fleet collaborated to bring about this conflict with the Wingers.”
“Why in the world would they do that?”
Despite how much the admiral’s unflagging skepticism aggravated Keyes, it boded well. It means he might not be among the traitors. “I’m assuming it’s to increase Darkstream profits, with some kickback for anyone in the Fleet who helps. I just can’t believe any human would help the Ixa.”
“The Ixa? What have the Ixa got to do with anything?”
“They’re mobilizing, sir. We encountered one of their warships out here.”
“They aren’t supposed to have—”
“I know. But they do have them. And I have the records to prove it. The warship’s captain, Teth, spoke of killing the Galactic Amnesty Council’s monitors. He mentioned purifying all the Ixan hybrids.”
“Christ…” Carrow cleared his throat. “That’s one of the main things they were there to prevent.”
“Let’s hope it isn’t true. But it bears investigating.”
“It will have to wait. We’re mobilizing almost half the Fleet and sending them into the Bastion sector. We’ve been testing our wormhole generators all along, and it looks like they’re finally stable again.”
“I know. We made them stable.”
Carrow tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.
“We have Ochrim with us. We took him to Darkstream headquarters to access the master control he built for them. He ensured that what happened to the Buchanan will not happen again.”
“How did you find…? Never mind. That was good work, Keyes. It’s not going to prevent you from getting hauled in front of a review board to answer for all your protocol breaches, but it was good work.”
“Sir, you said you’re sending half the Fleet. Is th
at really necessary, just to take out the Wingers? Surely a quarter of our ships would take care of their Roostships, especially with dark tech fully online again.”
“The Gok have allied with the Wingers.”
Keyes blinked. The Gok and the Wingers? “I see.”
“Yes. Which is why I find your report about the Ixa particularly disturbing. Both our old enemies are in motion once more, it appears. But we’re taking every precaution. The rest of the Fleet will stand ready on the other side of the Larkspur-Caprice darkgate, should backup be needed for any reason. But we expect that the mere sight of half our ships appearing out of fully-functional wormholes should give our enemies pause.”
I expect it should. “Sir, if you’re truly taking every precaution, then you will allow me to command the Providence as we join you in engaging the enemy. With two species aligned against us, maybe even three, it makes sense to ensure our victory in every way possible. Afterward, I will submit to the review board’s judgment.”
Admiral Carrow scratched his cheek as he considered. “Fine. We go to battle in four days—can you make it for then?”
“We’re already well underway. In the meantime, I’ll send you a full report on everything we’ve learned, including details about a new weapon used on us by the Ixa.”
Carrow nodded. “God speed, Captain Keyes.”
Chapter 44
Killing Machines
The Providence emerged from Pirate’s Path, and right away her sensors detected the enormous fleet, comprised of Wingers and Gok, arrayed between Thessaly and the Larkspur-Caprice darkgate.
From the Captain’s chair, Keyes sniffed. No doubt the enemy wanted to pressure both targets at once—the colony and the darkgate. Their posture suggested a threat to two assets vital to humanity.
But at least one of those threats was a bluff. Darkgates were of far more value to the aliens than they were to humanity. Without access to dark tech themselves, the darkgate represented their only avenue of striking back into human space. If humans had never given them darkgates, they would still be exploiting naturally occurring wormholes, which destroyed the ships that passed through them a certain percentage of the time. Besides, if they take out that dark gate, the energy release that results will probably wipe out their entire fleet.
Nevertheless, the Fleet was taking every precaution, and so would he. “Sound general quarters,” he said. “Set condition one.”
“Yes, sir,” Arsenyev said, and when she spoke next her voice came out of coms and loudspeakers all over the ship. “General quarters, general quarters. Set condition one.”
“New wormholes detected,” the sensor operator said, “well out of enemy weapons range. I’ve never seen so many opening in one place. The computer’s counting nine hundred and seventy-one.”
One for each ship. “Bring up a visual and magnify,” Keyes said. “Full-screen.”
“Yes, sir.”
The image sprang onto the viewscreen just as the first ships were nosing through the wormholes. Much smaller and sleeker than the Providence, modern designers had optimized them for taking advantage of all the capabilities dark tech offered. Whereas Keyes’s ship was meant to act as a mobile army and fleet unto itself, the Fleet’s newer ships, each equipped with a vast arsenal, were intended as invincible killing machines, capable of attacking with impunity or appearing out of thin air to exploit vulnerabilities. The First Galactic War had been won when UHF ships warped over two significant Ixan colonies simultaneously, weapons fully charged, and wiped them out from orbit.
As strongly as he felt about humanity’s abuse of the power dark tech afforded, he couldn’t help the thrill that ran through him as he beheld the sheer might on display. It’s much better to be on the side of so much might than opposed to it. Everything else aside, that one thing is certain.
“Something’s wrong,” the sensor operator said.
Keyes’s eyes stayed glued to the viewscreen. He felt a twinge of fear in the pit of his stomach. “What is it?” Although he’d already begun to suspect.
“Sir, the ships aren’t doing anything. They aren’t trying to establish contact with the enemy, as planned. They aren’t even reorienting to engage them. They’re just drifting.”
“Coms, attempt to establish contact with Admiral Peters aboard the flagship.”
The CIC crew waited in tense silence as the Coms officer leaned over his console and spoke. “Providence to Caesar, come in. Do you read me, Caesar. Caesar, come in.”
On the viewscreen, a series of brief explosions could be seen as two of the ships collided with each other. Several of the crew gasped. Keyes brought a hand to his throat, where he tasted bile.
“C-captain?” Arsenyev stammered, white-faced.
Everyone was staring at him. Waiting for him to tell them what to do.
“Nav,” he said at last, and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat. “Nav, take us back into Pirate’s Path. This system is lost.”
Chapter 45
Interrogation
Keyes ordered the brig guards to yank Ochrim out of his cell and into an interrogation room. Before they went in, he placed a hand on Husher’s shoulder and locked eyes with him. “Listen to me. Everything points to that Ixan as the perpetrator of one of the worst atrocities in our history. If we’re right, he just killed over seven hundred thousand men and women. But no matter what he says or does, we will follow the Amnesty Conventions during this interview, do you understand me? No harm will come to that bastard until he is properly tried and sentenced to death in a public court.”
The young officer blinked. “I’m not for torturing prisoners, sir.” He appeared to hesitate for a moment. “That said, I admire your restraint.”
Keyes gave a bitter chuckle. “Save it. We’re not in there yet.”
The guard opened the door for them, and they filed in, with Keyes in the lead. Ochrim twitched when he saw them, his handcuffs rattling against the table where he sat.
The two Fleet officers did not join the Ixan in sitting, instead taking up positions on the other side of the table and regarding him in silence. Perhaps it was an effective tactic. But for his part, Keyes simply did not know what could possibly be said.
So Husher spoke first. “Did you do it?”
Ochrim’s nostrils contracted to tiny dots, which Keyes knew signaled discomfort. “I know there’s nothing I can say to improve your opinion of—”
“Did you do it? Did you sabotage those ships even as you pretended to protect them?”
The cuffs rattled again as Ochrim repositioned his scaly hands atop the table. “I installed a timer. For less than a week, the wormhole generators functioned properly, which lulled your Admirals into a false sense of security. But when the timer ran out, my virus went to work on every Fleet ship. Their generators will now produce only wormholes that destroy any organic matter passing through them. Not only that, but my virus destroyed the generators’ ability to be reprogrammed. They are locked in this way. To harness dark tech again, humanity would have to essentially reinvent it.”
Husher shook his head slowly. “How did you know how long to set the timer for? You had to be impossibly precise.”
The Ixan returned his gaze, but did not answer.
“Tell me!” Husher yelled, slamming the table with both palms. Ochrim didn’t flinch.
Keyes placed a restraining hand on Husher’s shoulder. “So you are working for the Ixa,” he said to Ochrim.
“I work for the galaxy, Captain.”
“Wait,” Husher said. “You’re telling us this was all for some ideal? You don’t like how we’ve used what you gave us, so you killed seven hundred thousand people—as what, as punishment? To think the media always portrayed you as such a saint. Such a savior.”
Ochrim slowly shook his head. “You misunderstand me. The Ixa will prosper because of what I’ve done. At the end of all this, the Ixa will straddle the galaxy, uncontested. Which I view as an unfortunate outcome, by the way.�
�
Keyes and Husher exchanged looks.
“I don’t get it,” Keyes said. “You’re saying you massacred innocent people to achieve an outcome you consider unfortunate.”
“It was the only way.”
“The only way for what?” Husher spat.
“For the galaxy to continue existing at all.”
“You sound like a lunatic.”
“This isn’t something you’re able to understand right now, but hear me: I have made the most ethical choice available to me. I made it decades ago, when I first gave humans dark tech. Even then, I knew what I would bring about this day.”
Husher planted both his hands on the table and leaned toward the alien until they were inches apart. “That sounds like a cop out to me. If we’re not capable of understanding something, it’s because you’re not giving us the information we need to understand it. But I don’t think there’s anything to get, other than the fact that you’re a monster.”
“You’re right, First Lieutenant—you are missing some information. You will receive it, but not today. For now, all I can say is this: the Prophecies are true. And whatever you do next will only be another step in fulfilling them.”
Chapter 46
The Chain of Command
Silence followed Admiral Carrow’s remark, and a coldness gripped Keyes’s stomach.
“Excuse me?” he said to the feed of Carrow’s face, displayed by a screen next to one that showed Fleet Admiral Dawson’s fleshy countenance. Around the conference table, the assembled Providence officers sat stiffly, avoiding eye contact with their captain.
“I said your career is over. The admirals called an emergency meeting and submitted their recommendation to a formal review board, who approved it. We need every ship we can get right now, so the Providence will remain active, but you are removed from duty effective immediately.”
“On what grounds?”
Carrow emitted a drawn-out sigh. Even over the micronet connection, which they were patching through from the Captain’s quarters, the admiral looked tired. “Do you need me to spell it out for you, Keyes? Your actions led to the death of seven hundred and twenty-one thousand and nineteen of our people.”
Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1 Page 14
