Reckoning: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 3

by Scott Bartlett

  “But Leonard,” said Captain Cho of the Vanquisher, “our planetary defense groups have no hope of holding off such an onslaught on their own. If we can be allowed to back them up—”

  “You’ll spring the Ixa’s trap. It’s clear that splitting up is exactly what they want us to do. The moment we fragment the fleet, they’ll send in reserve forces to ensure they outnumber us even more.” Keyes sat rigidly, trying to keep the disdain he felt for his fellow captains out of his voice. “Ask yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. Is your desire to split up the fleet really about the most effective tactics? Or is it about your desire for me to give you leave to defend your respective home systems? We’ve all suffered losses in this war. Sol is gone. Humanity’s home system, gone. But if we split up this fleet, all of humanity will fall. That, I can guarantee. And if you try to split up the fleet, I will consider it mutiny, which is the last thing our species needs.”

  A silence followed as he peered around the room. From their whitening faces, and their downcast eyes, he saw that none of them wanted mutiny. He also knew they understood the need for unity, on some level. Now he just needed to get them to haul that reality to the fore and look it in the face.

  Captain Cho spoke up again, evidently struggling to maintain eye contact with Keyes. “My children are in Peony, Leonard. If you won’t allow me to defend them—”

  “Peony will fall, yes. More systems are going to fall. There’s no avoiding that. It tears my guts apart to say so, but we need to choose which system to save based on strategic reasons alone. If we allow sentiment to cloud the way forward, we are lost.”

  Captain Vaghn stepped away from the bulkhead. She was one of the only captains in the room not seated. “Feverfew has the most connecting systems, and it’s the closest to the Ixan home system. In my view, we must secure Feverfew first.”

  Nodding, Keyes said, “My thoughts exactly. Does anyone have a different view? Remember, we will only entertain ideas that are completely free of sentiment. We cannot afford to favor anyone’s home system.”

  None of the others spoke. They saw the sense in Feverfew’s selection, that was plain on their faces, but so was the pain of abandoning their homes to the Ixa.

  Into the lull, Fesky stepped forward, keeping her wings close to her body to avoid nudging her neighbors. “Captain, while we’re in transit to Feverfew, I’d like to seek your permission to work on modifying a squadron of EW fighters. If I can be assigned this one squadron to experiment with in the coming engagement, I think I can exploit a weakness in the drone fighters.”

  “Granted, pending my review of your plan,” Keyes said.

  Fesky clacked her beak and retreated to her spot against the bulkhead.

  “If no one else has anything to bring up, we’ll call this war meeting adjourned.” For once, Keyes had trouble meeting the forlorn gazes of the captains under his command, many of who knew they were likely leaving loved ones to perish. But he forced himself to meet their eyes.

  “I have something,” Captain Vaghn said. “We currently have no admirals in the UHF. The entire admiralty was gathered in Sol, and none of them survived. This will probably be interpreted as a move to ingratiate myself to Captain Keyes, but I don’t care about that perception, because this is a necessity. The fleet needs an admiral, and now that Command is gone, there’s no way we’re going to get one unless we elevate one ourselves. This is unorthodox, but I nominate Captain Keyes. He’s already in command, and though we may not like some of the decisions he makes, I’m sure none of us would want to be the one who has to make them. There are very few people I would trust with the fate of humanity. I’ve known Captain Keyes since we served together on the Hornet in the First Galactic War, and he is one of those people.”

  “I second the nomination,” Captain Cho said right away. He didn’t look up, though. His eyes were glued on the conference room’s table, looking wistful.

  “All in favor?” Vaghn said.

  A chorus of dozens of voices saying “Aye” filled the room. Within minutes, the captains not present transmitted their votes as well, and there were zero “Nays.”

  With that, Captain Keyes became Admiral Keyes.

  Chapter 43

  Keepers of the Peace

  After Davies’s death, Wahlburg had found it hard to care about anything. But now, as much as he hated the filthy Ardentists who’d joined the supercarrier’s marines, he had to hand it to them—they’d helped him realize there was something he did care about: the Providence, and serving on her. They did that by defiling everything that made her special.

  “Wow, what a coincidence,” one of them was saying right into Wahlburg’s face. The insurgent’s back was to a mess table. “What a surprise, that your so-called captain would choose a Commonwealth system to defend while he takes the fleet farther and farther away from the Bastion Sector. What a surprise, that our home is being left wide open for the enemy to incinerate.”

  The radical had been speaking loudly enough that everyone in the crew’s mess had stopped eating; the clatter of cutlery against plates was gone. “The old man is your captain too, you Ixan-worshiping cretin,” Wahlburg said. “And he’s doing what’s right, not what’s easy, which is exactly how we do things here. He’s not leaving Bastion for the Ixa to have their way with because it’s a worthless backwater, he’s doing it to win the war. The fact that it’s a worthless backwater is a separate issue.”

  That did it. Wahlburg’s insult succeeded in finally sparking the powder keg that had been heating up in the crew’s mess and corridors for months. The insurgent whose home he’d insulted took a swing at him, while two others charged.

  Ducking back from the radical’s haymaker, Wahlburg darted in with one of his own, sending the man staggering back. Wahlburg crouched just before his next assailant reached him, but she was quick, shifting her weight to drive a knee into his abdomen.

  A table of nearby marines leapt to their feet and ran in before Wahlburg’s third attacker could reach him. A couple more Ardent-worshipers were joining the fray by then, and they clashed with Wahlburg’s allies.

  That was all it took. The entire crew’s mess erupted in fighting, and even some of the noncombat crew joined in, though Wahlburg doubted that was a good idea. Still, he appreciated the unity, and it got him riled up. He threw himself at the nearest insurgent, tackling him to the deck. The insurgent managed to shove him off, and Wahlburg scrambled to his feet, coming back around with his hands raised.

  The Wingers present kept out of the fighting, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. Much more surprising was the Gok’s refusal to participate. Their entire table had returned to eating, pausing only to repel a private from Engineering who’d stumbled into them—one of the Gok shoved the man away dispassionately, sending him stumbling in the opposite direction.

  Watching that was amusing, but it almost got Wahlburg knocked down by a bench, which two radicals were carrying between them and using to sweep marines off their feet.

  When he saw that, he almost went for his pistol, but he restrained himself. Instead, he grabbed the end of another bench and upended it on top of the radicals as they passed, knocking theirs to the deck and clobbering one of them.

  “What’s going on here?”

  The voice that boomed through the crew’s mess was unmistakable. It was Admiral Keyes. Everyone froze, and a deathly stillness fell over the throng. Even the Gok stopped eating.

  Trying not to look at the bench he’d used to take down an Ardent-worshiper currently moaning on the floor in pain, Wahlburg slowly spun around to face the entrance, where Keyes stood, taking in the scene, his face icy. Husher stood on his left, and Fesky on his right.

  “Who instigated this disgrace?” Keyes demanded.

  A flurry of finger-pointing ensued, which didn’t leave out Wahlburg and the insurgent he’d traded insults with, but which also included a lot of crewmembers who were innocent. Relatively speaking.

  Within a minute, Keyes had identified twenty marines
, who’d all been pointed at by someone. “All of you are going to the brig to cool your heels until I have time to deal with you, which won’t be until after the coming engagement. You haven’t only disgraced yourselves and this ship today. What you’ve done also amounts to a betrayal of humanity, since your squabbling distracts from the war effort. Everyone here in this room will be logged, and if another brawl occurs, the rest of you will be sent to the brig or confined to quarters. So I suggest you all become dedicated keepers of the peace.”

  With that, Admiral Keyes spun on his heel and marched out of the crew’s mess.

  Chapter 44

  Too Easy

  Husher followed Keyes back to his office, barely containing his outrage as they strode through the corridors. But he knew they couldn’t afford to hurt crew morale by arguing out in the open, and so he waited until they were inside the admiral’s office. Keyes likely knew what was coming, and he didn’t have to let Husher in, but to his credit, he did.

  “Go on, then,” Keyes said. “Say what you feel you need to say.”

  “I worry about how we’re going to fare against the Ixa.” Adrenaline coursed through Husher as his shoulders rose and fell.

  “And why is that?”

  “With all due respect, it’s because I think you’ve lost your compass.”

  “Lucky I have a good Nav officer, then.”

  “Seriously, Admiral. I’m not kidding. What you just did, the way you handled that brawl—it was too easy. Throwing Wahlburg and the others in the brig, without any evidence other than the accusations of their crewmates? It was a temporary solution for tensions that you know will continue to simmer. And what’s much more worrying is that you threw Wahlburg in the brig now, when it was easy, but not when he brutalized a civilian on the Vermillion Shipyards. Because you considered that too inconvenient. Too inconvenient to uphold the principles you used to live by.”

  “This isn’t about convenience, Husher.” The admiral’s voice had gained an edge. It’s about military expedience. There’s a difference.”

  “I’m talking about justice, Admiral. Can you see what you’ve become? This isn’t just about Wahlburg. It’s also about your decision to let Darkstream go, despite their crimes, despite that you must have known they’d keep on using dark tech. You’re reaching a point where you’ll be no better than what the admiralty was—what the old UHF brass was. Serving your own near-term self-interest, with no thought for long-term consequences. And if you don’t step away from the edge, there’ll be no going back.”

  “This is different. I’m not trying to make money for some corporation. I’m trying to save humanity.”

  “It’s not different. This isn’t about saving humanity for you anymore. You’re serving your own self-interest, just like they did. It just so happens that you care about vengeance, not profit. And you’re breaking every principle you once had to achieve it.”

  Keyes nodded slowly. “I’ve kept my patience with you this far, Husher. But I don’t think that’s going to last any longer. Get out.”

  “I—”

  “Get out.”

  Husher saluted, maintaining eye contact throughout, and left.

  Chapter 45

  The Strings of History

  The moment they entered Feverfew, Keyes ordered Werner to put up a visual on the CIC’s main viewscreen, of the battle raging around Zakros, the system’s only colony.

  Despite its solitude, the planet was a vital one. It held resources beneath its crust that humanity would be mining for another century at least—provided they controlled the colony for that long. With four darkgates, the system was also of incredible strategic importance. And over ten billion people lived on Zakros.

  The others think that isn’t a consideration for me. But it is. The fact that this is one of the most populous systems matters.

  At any rate, high population and strategic importance tended to correlate.

  Taking the allied fleet to Feverfew also meant they could quickly respond to an attack on neighboring Caprice, another important system.

  So far, between Zakros’ robust orbital defense platforms and its well-trained planetary defense group, along with what remained of the UHF battle group assigned to defend the system, they were keeping the Ixa at bay, preventing them from attacking the planet itself. But that wouldn’t last long, and Keyes gave even odds to them holding long enough for the allied fleet to reach them at their current speed.

  “Nav, set a course that pulls us ahead of the main fleet. We need to reach the Ixa sooner, or risk them getting at the civilian population. Send orders for some of the faster ships to match our course and acceleration profile.”

  The Providence had more powerful engines than most of her allies, since she had never relied on dark tech, as most of the UHF warships had. Some of the newer Roostships could keep up, though, provided the supercarrier didn’t max out her engine power. Some UHF corvettes, as well.

  Sending a battle group ahead led by the Providence reduced the risk of civilians dying, but it brought other risks, and they would have to engage carefully, applying just enough pressure to take some off of the colony.

  The Ixan presence in Feverfew was large, over two hundred ships, and Keyes almost winced at the thought that they represented just a tiny fraction of the enemy’s total forces. The footage from the fall of Coreopsis had proven that, and even it may not have featured the entire Ixan fleet.

  All this time, ever since the First Galactic War, humanity had assumed itself dominant. All this time, the Ixa had been building up under the guidance of a superintelligence, no doubt optimizing their resource use and implementing new technologies for producing and harnessing energy.

  All this time, Baxa had been pulling the strings of history until at last he wove them into a tapestry depicting humanity’s downfall.

  As two dozen allied ships screamed ahead of the rest, cutting their transit time by over two hours, Keyes quietly fell victim to his own thoughts. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but this war was not looking good for them. The Ixan numbers were bad enough, but with a superintelligent AI commanding them, the very thing galactic law had prohibited for so long…

  He gave himself a shake, dislodging his pessimism for a time. He could only do what he knew how to, which was defend humanity as best he could, while keeping as many people alive as possible.

  The tactical display showed the Ixa had finally abandoned their support ship ruse. It also showed them respecting the presence of the Providence, devoting seventy ships to confront the approaching allied battle group while the rest continued to pressure Zakros.

  Wary of Hellsong missiles, Keyes carefully engaged the enemy warships.

  Chapter 46

  On the Fly

  Well before the Roostships’ Talons and the Providence Air Group clashed with five squadrons of Ixan drone fighters, Keyes ordered Khoo to launch a targeted missile barrage at them, with three Banshees for every drone.

  It was a lot of missiles, but he knew each drone would also unleash a parasitic microcoupler the moment it went down, and he didn’t feel like losing Condor pilots today. No more than are necessary to save Zakros, at least.

  This way, Fesky could deal with the wave of microcouplers first before engaging what remained of the drone fleet.

  “I also want you to use our primary and secondary railguns to randomly distribute kinetic impactors throughout the drone fighter formation, Tactical. We can’t match the spread from one of their new missiles, but we can make their evasion attempts much hairier.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Coms, I’m sure this will be a redundant order, but redundancy saves lives in battle. Order Fesky to remind her pilots that using lidar to detect and destroy incoming parasitic microcouplers is paramount. Every single Condor will be carefully inspected, using visual sensors and lidar, before I let it back inside my ship, to make sure it isn’t carrying any more nasty surprises.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  There. He’d
done everything he could for his Air Group. Now, it was up to the Providence and the rest of the forward battle group to see what they could do about the seventy Ixan ships that had moved to confront them.

  Briefly, he wondered whether these were being directly controlled by Baxa. If what Husher had told him about his conversation with the superintelligence was true, Keyes had to assume they probably weren’t under the AI’s direct control.

  According to Husher, Baxa wanted revenge on the Ixa for limiting him and keeping him prisoner. Keyes didn’t know what that revenge might look like, but the attacks on human systems had begun just as the superintelligence escaped, which suggested these Ixa were likely operating autonomously.

  With another look at the tactical display, Keyes spotted something that made him think the Ixa definitely weren’t under the control of a superintelligence. The seventy ships sent to fight him, which were now minutes away from primary laser range, had spread out across the allied battle group’s port-side flank instead of interposing themselves between Keyes and the rest of the Ixan fleet.

  He could understand the thinking behind the maneuver. Human ships were known for their generous supplies of Banshee missiles, which they weren’t shy about using in battle. Whoever was commanding these seventy ships probably didn’t want to risk stray missiles getting past them and hitting the vulnerable backsides of the larger Ixan fleet. So they’d moved to a position where that wouldn’t be a problem—where stray missiles would simply speed past into empty space, wasted.

  But the move relied on the assumption that Keyes was sufficiently worried about the seventy ships that he wouldn’t invest time directing his main weapons at the Ixa pressuring Zakros.