The Carina arm was mostly Lem Bataan territory, and as far as he knew their diplomats had reported no such intruders to the Imperial Combine. Since their culture was at peace with the Empire — friendly, even — the Lembas surely would have made contact had their borders been breached, especially by a threat so hostile as the Shaeld.
While there was no doubt that the Shaeld were active on the Perseus arm, all he could reasonably claim to know was that they were tangling with the Viskr to some degree, and that their reach on Perseus possibly extended throughout the Junta’s territory. The nearer portion of Perseus — the extent which ran parallel with Orion — was mostly Imperial space, from the Crab Nebula all the way downstream to the point where the Orion arm terminated. Out beyond that region, the Perseus arm was a smear of unexplored star systems, dwindling off into the great dark and reaching vainly for the companionship of the Outer arm.
So, he reasoned, if they were attacking us from the Perseus arm, our worlds there would have reported their activity.
Would they though?
I told you. Don’t put thoughts like that in my head.
Worlds are falling silent. Why not the Perseus colonies?
Caden did not reply. He swiped at his holo, asking for a series of gate pings on some of the lesser colonies on the downstream Perseus arm: access denied, of course.
He sighed.
Inspiration struck him. A unified comms connection would show that any given gate was still active, that it was probably business as usual in the local system.
Who do I know on Perseus? He asked himself. Who can I try to contact?
He closed his eyes and slapped his own forehead. Moron! There was no need to carry out such a test, for Disputer had been able to connect with the gate near Damastion. The gate was still there, and still working. The problem was that nobody at home was answering the call, and right now nothing on the more distant Perseus arm of the galaxy could possibly tell him anything about what was happening on Damastion.
You need to stop messing with my head, he told the Emptiness.
You’re doing it yourself.
Am I?
He laid back on the bunk, and thought about what waited ahead of him.
Guathelia.
Silent for more than a week now, and the last known position of the ICS Vehement. Nobody could say with any certainty what had happened on that far-flung world, but to Caden’s mind it seemed unlikely that both the ship and the planet had developed communications problems at the same time. The planet was probably already lost to the enemy, the ship likely captured or destroyed. Even a Vantage-class carrier would not stand for very long against the mountainous vessels he had seen suspended over Meccrace Prime.
He wished he could have told Thande more about the operation, if only just to get her views on it. Nobody else who he had contact with had encountered the enemy’s ships up so close. At least, not en masse. It would be interesting to know what chances she gave the task force should they find Guathelia was blockaded.
Fleet Command certainly seemed to be sure that the planet was occupied by the enemy, in fact from what he had gleaned of their plans they were counting on it. Commander Operations was quite adamant that nothing was more important than learning about the craft — or devices — they were calling ‘grounding splinters’, and finding out why the Shaeld Hratha were dropping them across the many worlds.
Caden could not agree more.
Whatever their purpose, any splinters on Guathelia would have been there for twice as long as those that had fallen to the ground on Meccrace Prime. Twice as long at least, to do whatever they were supposed to do. If Ren were still alive, and the splinters were a threat to him…
The information recovered from Guathelia might well be his only chance.
• • •
Caden arrived at the command deck moments before the jump from the wormhole’s terminus. Thande glanced up, made eye contact as he strode through the security hatches, and beckoned him to her. The hatches rumbled closed behind him; he was glad to see that Thande was taking no chances with shipboard security since the disaster at Meccrace Prime.
“Conventional drives?” Thande said.
“Primed and ready to take over, Captain,” came the reply from Helm.
“Time on exit?”
“Less than one minute.”
Caden threaded his way through the control stations and arrived at Thande’s side.
“Briefing is at Fort Shalleon,” he said. “We’ll need to clear security within the next two hours.”
“We need to get parked up first,” Thande said. “From what I hear, there may be some congestion around the fortress.”
He smiled. “That’s true. If necessary we can shuttle over to them.”
“Approaching boundary,” said Helm. “Standing by for exit protocol.”
COMOP passed a warning tone throughout the ship.
“Take us out when you can, Helm.”
“Captain. Powering down primary collimators in three, two, one… exit.”
Caden’s eyes flicked up to the main viewport, and he found himself holding his breath while the familiar backdrop of interplanetary space ripped across his view. His stomach flipped, his vision blurred, the roar of primordial eternity deafened him for the merest fraction of a split second.
“Report…?” Thande said. Caden thought he could hear a note of expectation in her voice.
“Local stellar locks confirmed. Pulsar locks… pulsar locks show a distinct skew.”
Thande tutted. “What’s our location?”
“Working… almost three thousand klicks from where we should be.”
“Damn.”
“Does that matter?” Caden asked quietly. “Space is pretty big.”
“It’s four times the error margin for a jump like this,” Thande said. “Far outside the radius that was checked for us. We’re lucky we didn’t become enmeshed with a lump of rock.”
“Four times the error margin…?” Caden asked.
Thande ignored the question. “Helm, take us in to the fortress and request docking instructions. COMOP, get on the horn to their engineering section. Find out if they’re aware of any ongoing problems with wormhole travel or the gate network. This is getting ridiculous.”
Now that her orders had been handed out, she turned back to Caden.
“Yes, four times the error margin. I gather from your expression that you don’t see the problem.”
“Not really,” he said. “Isn’t a bit of unpredictability just part of interstellar travel?”
“If this had been an unbound jump from Herses all the way to the Sagittarius arm, then I would not be concerned at all; we would expect the mouth of the wormhole to wander a considerable distance from the targeted destination. But it wasn’t. This was a bound jump. The Shalleon gate was supposed to anchor the mouth of our wormhole in a specific location.”
“So why are we here and not there?”
“No idea,” said Thande, “but I’m starting to think we have a serious technical issue, and the last thing I need right now is for Disputer to be sent to dry dock for deep analysis.”
“Captain,” COMOP said. “Fort Shalleon says that it’s not just us. This appears to be a widespread issue.”
“Any word on the cause?”
“They don’t know. They say the ships involved in the operation will now be jumping to the destination in two stages, to reduce the final error margin. They’re also requesting our navigation logs, along with a full dump of any recent diagnostics.”
“Send it all.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Caden raised an eyebrow. “Well, I guess you don’t need to worry about being left out of the operation.”
“How so?”
“It’s not just Disputer. I doubt that Fleet Command will be grounding multiple ships when they need them so badly.”
“I hope you’re right… would you look at that!”
Thande pointed, and Caden looked again
out of the main viewport. The ship had come about and was now headed directly for the system’s fortress.
Steadily growing in size, the mighty station was encircled with thin, silvery rings.
Caden had travelled aboard Imperial Combine starships many times during his career, but the trips on which he had occasion to be on the command deck during a rendezvous were relatively few in number. All too often he would be on the flight deck preparing for a drop, or in a hangar bay checking over the assets and personnel assigned to his objective.
Today was turning into something of a special treat.
The rings, so threadlike and delicate from afar, began to resolve as Disputer came closer to them. Caden could now make out individual large frame vessels; a dreadnought here, a heavy carrier there. The smaller shapes dotted between them were still unidentifiable, but he knew already that they would be battleships, frigates, cruisers, destroyers, and no doubt the faint blurred lines that passed between them evidenced all manner of support ships.
He tried to estimate the number of ships. Hundreds. Maybe even thousands, if one counted the myriad contingency craft.
“Well,” said Caden. “I knew Fleet was planning to go all-out in this endeavour, but I didn’t imagine they meant quite on this scale.”
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Thande said. “Puts Mibes into perspective.”
“And that was to repel an occupying force.”
“Those dreadships are more formidable than anything the Viskr Junta has.”
“They certainly are. It’s gratifying to see that Command has taken the hint at last.”
“They may have been slow on the uptake, but they really aren’t stupid.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest they are,” said Caden. “Just that they have taken their time responding to this threat.”
Thande sighed. “I can’t argue with that. But it would appear that this is where it all changes.”
“I hope you’re right. I don’t want to hear of any more mysterious blackouts or disappearing ships. All I want to hear about now is that we are taking up the fight.”
“Captain, harbour control has ordered us to join the ships in the outer ring. We’re to send our delegation for the briefing across to docking hub five.”
“Thank you COMOP. Have a shuttle prepared. The XO will have command of the ship while I am gone.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Caden could not help but smile to himself as he followed Thande across the command deck, through the heavy hatches, and out into the passageway beyond.
“Things are moving at last,” he told himself.
— 05 —
Heaven’s Playground
Villium Grande!
Euryce knew the words of course; she lived in Villium after all, and it was all Papa had been talking about for weeks. She was still not sure quite what the whole phrase meant. He had been regrettably non-specific, despite his unbridled enthusiasm.
But she knew what Aerospace Centre meant. Everyone in Villium knew that; it was about the only major attraction in the whole town.
She trailed after Mama, clinging onto her hand lest they become separated. Euryce had already experienced being alone in a crowd before, and had no desire to repeat the episode.
“Maishan! Over here!”
Euryce could not see him, but she knew her father’s voice. Mama steered them towards the shout, threading through the crowd, and Euryce caught a glimpse of an arm waving above heads, a flickering holo programme clutched between his fingers to draw more attention.
They found him, and squeezed between the other spectators who begrudgingly made space for them.
Lasan and Brex kindly relieved Euryce of the bags of Star Raiders which she had clutched to her body with her left arm.
“My favourite,” said Brex, and ripped his open straight away.
Lasan stared at hers thoughtfully, and placed the bag wordlessly in her pocket.
“Did we miss anything?” Mama asked.
Euryce looked up at her father.
“It’s not started just yet. Just one of those clowns prancing around on the strip for the kids. I don’t know why they bother; only the front row can even see him properly.”
“Slow down Brex,” said Mama. “Last thing we need is you being sick all over yourself.”
“Again,” said Papa. He and Euryce sniggered.
She opened her bag of Star Raiders and popped one in her mouth. It fizzed immediately, melting on her tongue in a joyously sickly froth.
A hush fell over the crowd, and she barely noticed. She was reaching for another sweet when the sky exploded.
A noise greater than anything she had ever heard cracked the heavens, and she had the vague notion that something grey-green had shot across the sky in front of the crowd, close to the ground.
The crowd cheered enthusiastically.
“Mama, Eury dropped her Raiders,” Brex said. He sounded as though he expected to be rewarded for pointing it out.
Euryce looked down. She was holding the bottom of an empty bag. It had flopped over when the craft startled her, and the contents were spilled out on the grass beneath her feet.
“We’ll get you some more later,” said Mama. She turned back and pointed excitedly over the heads of the people in front.
“Here,” said Lasan. She took her own bag out of her pocket. “I didn’t really want them anyway.”
Euryce smiled at her. Lasan was by far the quieter of Euryce’s older twin siblings, but she had her moments.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” a voice boomed. “Welcome to Villium Grande Aerospace Centre, for the seventeenth annual air-space vehicle show. And in case you missed it folks, that thunderclap you just heard was the new DA-42 Makepeace assault bomber, the engines of which are manufactured right here at Kementhast, at the Kenita-Deng orbital factory.”
The crowd seemed pleased that their own planet’s industry had contributed to the construction of such an impressive craft, and it was given a robust round of applause.
“That particular bird is destined for the carrier Stiletto, but don’t worry folks: it’ll be touching down on one of the display pads at the end of the show.”
A much quieter round of applause.
“We’ve got some great displays lined up for you all, including an appearance from a certain formation pilot you all might just know—”
There were whoops and hollers from the crowd.
“—But before we get to that, let’s give it up for the incomparable… Duelling Daggerhounds!”
Euryce had no idea what daggerhounds were, much less duelling ones.
She hummed to herself, popping Lasan’s Star Raiders into her mouth, while the crowd made ooh and aah noises over something she could barely see. The sounds of engines rumbling back and forth rose above the voices of the crowd, and she hummed around them as though they were a part of her own nonsense composition.
Brex and Lasan, on the other hand, were both enrapt.
As the afternoon wore on, Euryce began to get restless. Several different displays had now been paraded past, involving various numbers of various different craft performing various dramas, and she was well and truly bored.
“Papa,” she tugged at his jacket. “Can we go yet?”
“Soon, Eury,” he said.
She pouted.
The commentator’s voice boomed out again, and Papa’s attention was drawn away. Euryce had stopped listening, but whatever it was the loud man said, it prompted Papa to actually jump up and down. Even Mama looked thrilled. Papa turned back to her again.
“Come here Eury,” he said.
He reached down and picked her up, lifting her onto his shoulders.
From that vantage point, matters were slightly different.
She could see the whole strip, a safe distance away from the barriers that contained the crowd. The whole aerodrome, the control towers, a squadron of tactical fighters which had already set down on one of the pads. A strange little truck was crawling along
one of the strips farther out, towards a huge naval landing craft, and it reminded her of a kind of bug she often found in the garden.
“Here they come!” Papa shouted.
Euryce looked around, confused. Where? And who?
Papa pointed towards the horizon, to Euryce’s right, and she squinted at the low, drab clouds which lay there.
She saw them: five tiny black dots, which looked as though they were moving slowly into the sky, diagonally left.
And then without warning they got bigger and bigger, and thundered past high above the crowd, and the sound of their passing put the Makepeace to shame.
At first it was a rushing sound, while the craft were already passing, then in their wake there was the crack of a planet being shattered, and the roar of an angry god.
She felt the warm air pushing against her.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have seen a lot of fine craft today, including some of the Imperial Navy’s latest and greatest birds, but now Villium Grande is proud to present to you the stars of the Commerce Authority’s civil aerospace formation team: the Kementhast Conquerors!”
The crowd roared.
Euryce was aware of the words being spoken, but did not listen. She sat atop Papa’s shoulders, her mouth hanging open, transfixed by the craft which had shot into a vertical loop — separating as they went — and hurtled high into the sky to prepare for another pass.
“And piloting the lead plane, the bird with the golden wings, is of course our very own Roima Gotharom!”
The crowd roared again, this time for longer.
The planes began to converge, flying upside-down, and started to drop towards the airfield. Euryce was sure they would be dashed apart on the ground.
They flipped over, pulled up, whooshed low along the strip in tight formation.
As they passed, she saw the flare of sunlight burning brightly on the gold-painted wings of the centre plane, the one right at the front. She fancied she had seen the pilot.
“Few people realise this folks, but Roima Gotharom began her flying career as a Flight Operations Assistant on a mining ship. How times have changed for her!”
There was a round of applause in admiration of the local girl come good.
Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars) Page 68
