At least, that was his prayer.
Epilogue
No Matter What
“What do you see?” Jake asked the destroyer’s sensor operator. The Melvin was the first ship through the wormhole, and moments after transitioning, the sensor operator’s face had gone white.
“It’s…gone.”
“What’s gone?” In the chaos of battle, Bronson hadn’t told them where in the Milky Way he was opening the darkgate, and Jake hadn’t asked. He’d been too busy watching the aged warships’ desperate defense, wondering whether he would need to get in his mech to go outside and join the fight.
“We’re in the Sol System. I can see Mars, Venus, and we’re right next to Earth…they’re all there, but there are supposed to be multiple colonies in the system, too. Those are all gone.”
Jake’s neck tensed, and he stared at the sensor data the officer was putting up on the viewscreen.
“I thought we won the war against the Ixa,” Ash said from where she sat strapped into an observation chair, a couple over from Jake’s. Her voice came out hoarse—she was still recovering from Roach’s brutal attack outside Vanguard, but she’d wanted to be outside her mech for this, awake. Still, she’d grown quite thin, and her skin had acquired a frightful pallor. She needs rest. She probably hasn’t eaten since before the fighting on Valhalla.
“Ma’am, we’re getting a transmission request,” the coms officer said to the captain.
“Put it through.”
A man with a white-speckled beard appeared on the screen, squinting at them. “Who are you?”
“I’m Captain Vanessa Harding, Darkstream military. Who are you?”
“Darkstream,” the man repeated, his voice full of wonder. “You…you’re back?”
“Some of us. Would you please identify yourself?”
“I’m Aden Shy, a project manager for the Earth Terraforming Initiative. No one’s supposed to be in this system—not until the terraforming process is finished, which won’t be for another couple centuries. And you’re definitely not supposed to use a wormhole to get here, or anywhere, for that matter. The law is pretty clear on the use of dark tech. As a government employee, I’m afraid it’s my duty to report you.”
“That was the first instance of dark tech the company has used in twenty years,” Captain Harding said, neglecting to mention the Majorana-infused decks included in everything Darkstream had put in space. “We had a pretty good reason for opening a wormhole. We were attacked by a species that wiped out most of our population. We’re the only survivors, as far as we know. That same species, who identified themselves as the Progenitors, claimed that they unleashed the Ixa on humanity, and now they plan to come for our species themselves.”
Shy opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he said, “This is well above my pay grade. I can send a message to my next higher-up, but from the sounds of it, you’ll want the very highest levels of government.”
“That would be ideal,” Harding said. “What happened to the colonies of the Sol System, Mr. Shy?”
“Why, the Ixa wiped them out. Along with a lot of other systems. Wow.” Shy gave his head a slight shake. “You have a lot of catching up to do, don’t you?”
“It would seem so. How long will we have to wait before you hear from your superior?”
“Hard to say. The way things are these days, with the amount of bureaucracy we have, things can take a while. Having so many different species all wrapped up in the same government doesn’t help matters too much. That said, this seems pretty important. I bet they’ll want to send someone to speak to you right away.” Shy cleared his throat. “What happened to you people, out there?”
“That’s almost certainly going to be classified,” Jake cut in. He unstrapped himself from his seat and made his way to between the Captain’s chair and the CIC’s main screen. “I’m Seaman Jake Price, and I command a team of heavy assault mechs. We’ve encountered multiple enemies outside the galaxy who are powerful enough that deploying mechs against them is likely our only chance of victory. We have the technology to build mechs, and we’re going to need a lot more of them, but we’re willing to share the schematics. We even have an unused mech we’re willing to give you. Tell your superior to pass that up the chain.”
Should get their attention.
Jake turned to find Ash smiling at him, looking satisfied. He nodded at her, returning the smile.
He had no idea what would come next, and the intel they had to share with the rest of humanity on the Progenitors was limited at best. But he did know that Oneiri Team was back, and no matter what confronted humanity next, they would be there to help stop it, together.
Thank you for reading! Want free books?
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What happened on Eresos?
Onslaught reveals a shocking secret from Chief Roach’s past, when Darkstream first took Eresos with the help of Tessa Notaras.
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Supercarrier tells the story of the wars that led to Darkstream’s exit from the Milky Way Galaxy, and it’s Book 1 of the Ixan Prophecies Trilogy.
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Chapter 1
Providence
“Providence, this is 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 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, Husher thought to himself.
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 thought.
He 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, 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, 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 to 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?”
“Listen and learn.” Caine started doling out orders, her small frame exuding confidence and authority. “Our mission is to reach the city center 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.”
Mech Wars: The Complete Series Page 74
