Another enemy indicator disappeared from the grid and immediately a new alarm flared into life then quickly subsided. Hec assessed the problem. “That was only a proximity alarm. That last ship was pretty close before it blew, nothing penetrated our beefed-up shields, but we lost about ten percent in available shield power. A little closer and we would have felt it.”
Owens asked, “That much from one small ship?”
Hec answered, “The fuel, when ignited has a big enough bang to blow the reactor and make a rather effective nuclear bomb. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t on the receiving end. It looks like the strategy is to get two or three ships to detonate close enough to overload our shields; then the remainder can finish us off.”
“Even with our new souped-up engines, we can’t outrun ‘em. They’re practically all engine with very little incremental mass. We, on the other hand are hauling plenty of extra mass. They must only be using rudimentary tracking; that’s why they needed us to fire a weapon, so they could lock onto its source. They probably don’t even have onboard computers, so they’re effectively flying by the seats of their pants and that’s making it damn hard for me to anticipate their course changes.”
Owens stared at the tactical display. The tiny ships continued to bob and weave while making slow progress in closing the distance to his ship. His heart raced as he watched their deadly pursuit. He thought furiously, desperate for an idea. He was once again painfully reminded he wasn’t a qualified space combat pilot. He was a ground-pounding detective by trade.
Hec continued to fire at the pursuing ships but was unsuccessful in taking out any more targets. As he was watching the tactical grid, a sudden thought struck Owens. He quickly asked, “You didn’t mention their shields; they have no shields?”
“No shields,” Hec confirmed. “It does it look like they have a little extra plating at the noses of the ships for micro meteorite strikes, but that’s about all I could determine. Not much protection but then they don’t expect to be out there that long, so why add unneeded mass?”
Owens felt a surge of hope. He remembered something from his briefing on the new weapons’ mods. “Quick, give me manual control of the rail guns.” Hec complied and a different weapon’s grip emerged from the armrest as his holo-screen displayed the new weapon’s options. Thumbing the small trackball built into the grip, Owens selected the option he was looking for and immediately began firing. A few moments later, a red diamond on the display began to slow then disappeared from the tracking image, quickly followed by another, then another. One-by-one, the diamonds disappeared from the holo-display until finally, no ship registered on the Holmes’ scanners. In a span of thirty seconds, they had all been destroyed.
Hec remained silent for a moment and then began to talk rapidly. “I would say ‘nice shooting’ if it weren’t for the fact you cheated.” The AI griped.
“Hey, I didn’t cheat,” Owens protested. “You could have used the rail gun. Why didn’t you?”
Hec sniffed, “There was nothing in the spec data that indicated the rail guns had been touched. Obviously, someone failed to update the specs. I see they can now handle multiple projectile salvos.”
“Actually, according to my briefing, they weren’t modified at all. They simply provided us with additional military-class ammunition for the rail guns; several types, in fact.” Owens smiled, patting the weapon’s grip. “I took a chance and used the shells designated for anti-personnel. The anti-personnel shells are actually designed to ward off space-to-ship boarding parties using armored space suits. Once the shell covers about two kilometers, it breaks up into a cloud of a hundred or so of ferro-ceramic balls. Even a class-five hardened space suit would be shredded.”
“Hmmm, class-fives are pretty tough,” Hec commented.
“Well, I figured since those ships didn’t have shielding and only cursory micro-meteorite protection, the anti-personnel shells should penetrate the hulls. And, of course, with such a weapon, you don’t need to be a sharpshooter.”
“It seems our benefactors neglected to include that information in the inventories. I wonder what else they neglected to mention. So basically, you used a high-tech shotgun to do in the bad guys.” Hec mused. “That was pretty quick thinking on your part. It was a bit sloppy, but I’ll admit it was pretty effective.”
“Thanks, but they should have been disabled, not completely destroyed. I don’t understand why they disappeared from tactical.”
“Oh, I don’t think you destroyed them,” Hec countered. “Your ‘shotgun’ wouldn’t have breached every fuel tank. Some should have remained intact. I surmise they did it to themselves.”
Owens asked, “How?”
“They must have been equipped with something similar to a ‘dead man’s switch,’ something that would activate a self-destruct either manually if the pilot remained alive, or automatically if the pilot became incapacitated.”
“Let me guess, so once again we have no clue as to the identity of the attackers,” Owens fumed.
“But,” Hec said, “there is one bit of good news.” Hec then reminded Owens they had complete, detailed, multiple scanner recordings owing to Owens’ previous order before the destruction of the decoy mine. Even so, Owens directed Hec to begin a search for ship debris and any remains of the pilots on the chance there might something traceable back to whoever was responsible for the attacks. But before they could begin the search pattern, a message was received from an approaching military ship.
“The cavalry has arrived and again they were just a tad too late. A Captain Sands is inquiring if we need assistance. You want to talk to him Boss?”
Owens laughed, “No, but put the good Captain through anyway.”
A husky but clearly feminine voice filled the control room, “This Melina Sands, Captain of the CPSS Foxhound. We received your distress call and observed a number of explosions in your vicinity. Do you require assistance?”
Owens thanked Sands for the offered assistance and outlined the events that had led up to the explosions. Captain Sands was both shocked and intrigued by the attack strategy. It was primitive by modern military standards, yet it could have been successful had not it been for Owens’ creative use of the rail gun. She congratulated him for his unique solution.
Sands contacted Neven’s office and sent a data packet describing the attack. Not long after, she received a message from Neven and relayed it to Owens. The message contained orders for Owens to return to Denbus for a detailed debriefing on the incident. But before Owens could get underway, the Captain first insisted on sending over her chief engineer to check for any damage. After passing a damage assessment, the Holmes was given permission to depart. As he prepared to leave, Sands informed Owens the Foxhound and another ship, the Mantis, would conduct the search for debris.
After transmitting the scanner recordings to the Foxhound and Neven, Owens directed Hec to take them back to Denbus. Hec returned to the parking orbit they were assigned previously. A shuttle was waiting as they made orbit. Soon Owens found himself back in Neven’s office and for the next two hours, Owens went over the events that took place during the latest attack. He finished his account for the third time, and Neven finally was satisfied. He assured Owens all of the government’s considerable resources would be brought to bear on the attacks. Like Hec, Neven had concluded the two attacks were related.
“I wish we had more time to investigate before you depart, but the Golstar request was quite specific about the time-frame in which they expected you. With the time it took for ship’s modifications, we have used up a good portion of your margin to get there.” Neven looked at Owens with unconcealed concern.
“We hadn’t originally planned for it, but you are now going to be provided an escort to the outer boundary of the quarantine. It’s already been arranged; military destroyers have been dispatched for your additional protection. But we won’t use a standard escort deployment. Instead, a number of ships will position themselves at pre-plotted subspace emers
ion points along your route. They will stand-off far enough provide an illusion that you are traveling solo but should still be close enough to come to your aid if necessary.
Owens nodded, “I’m not going to fight you on this one. Your proposal sounds like a good one. I’m an ex-cop, private investigator, not a combat pilot. Crude as it was, that attack almost succeeded this time. I’ve been extremely fortunate to have made it through these attacks in one-piece. Frankly, other than what I’ve recently experienced, I don’t have any space-combat background and I might not be as lucky the next time. I don’t want to test the ‘three’s a charm’ theory, so I’ll use all the help I can get.”
“Very good, I will have the pre-charted points at the randomly selected locations provided to your AI within the hour,” Neven said briskly. “I’ve also arranged for a freight tender to replace the ammunition you expended. It is already waiting. As time is increasingly of the essence, I suggest you now rejoin your ship.”
Owens had made no mention about discovering the bugs placed in his ship. Neither did Neven speak of them being disabled. Still, thinking about the bugs, Owens turned and left before Neven could extend his hand.
CHAPTER 15
The Preservers of the Way met at the appointed time. They waited with much anticipation. The Leader was to give them news of the latest attack against the enemy of the state and they were hopeful that the news was good; that the Grand Patriarch’s agent had been eliminated. They could then turn their attention to the Grand Patriarch himself; a problem in need of quick resolution. They had been standing on the cold stone floor for some time and a degree of impatience began to creep into their quiet whisperings.
As was the Leader’s habit, the hooded figure observed the members from a place of concealment in an alcove adjacent to the meeting room. The Leader watched and listened through hidden devices as the whispered conversations began to rise in volume. Just before they reached the point of open discussion, the Leader quietly entered the room unannounced. Unhurriedly, the Leader walked into the center of the room. All conversations quickly died and no sound other than the swish of the leader’s robe brushing the stone floor could be heard. The Preservers moved to form a semicircle.
The Leader raised gloved hands in benediction and in preparation to the Litany. The leader’s deep, synthesized voice echoed off the bare walls. The Leader began without preamble.
“We are gathered in fellowship and worship under the...”
“Light of the Way,” the members intoned.
“We cannot stray from the true path if it is illuminated by the…”
“Light of the Way.”
“In righteousness, may we always be bathed in the…”
“Light of the Way.”
“We seek to protect and preserve the purity of the…”
“Light of the Way.”
“All false doctrines shall wither and die when exposed to the…”
“Light of the Way.”
“Our enemies shall be blinded by the...”
“Light of the Way,” the voices grew stronger.
The litany continued for twenty-eight more verses and ended with, “We shall be all victorious in defending the…”
“Light of the Way,” the voices rose to a crescendo and then abruptly stopped.
Diminishing reverberations of the synthesized voices continued a moment more, and then all was quiet. The Leader stepped back with hands now lowered. The Leader always enjoyed this time and with head bowed, allowed the silence to lengthen. As the silence stretched to minutes, the tension in the room became tangible once more. Just before it transformed into the subtle noise of quiet whispers and low murmurs, the Leader raised one hand, stepped forward and was again the sole focal point of the assembly.
The Leader’s hand slowly lowered and with hooded head still bowed, solemnly began, “Brothers and sisters, I bring you distressing tidings. As your Leader, it falls upon me to announce that again our agents have failed to destroy the threat. Though their cause was just, our comrades have fallen. Our limited intelligence underestimated the dark agent’s armaments. We must now confront him on our home ground. He cannot, will not, withstand the cleansing Light of the Way.” The leader paused and looked up to the large, glowing sphere suspended in the center of the ceiling.
“The Founder in his wisdom has provided divine guidance in showing us the path to the Light of the Way. We have survived and flourished these centuries because of his great foresight and planning. In his name, we do battle. In his name, we must persevere in defeating this dark threat to the Light. It will now fall directly to us to repel the encroaching darkness. I trust that you and those who follow you in our cause will not fail.”
The leader’s eyes, the only feature visible behind the hooded mask, turned toward the assembled. As one, the members dropped to their knees and began to chant the epic poem, ‘Warrior of the Light.’ The Leader nodded to all and was pleased. Such sheep, the Leader thought. With the last line ended, the Leader said, “And now my brothers and sisters, we must attend to the practical matters of planning our ultimate response to the threat.”
They all rose again to their feet. The Leader looked to the tallest member of the group known as the General. Although no member’s identity was revealed in the inner circle, the Leader knew the one known as the General was indeed in the military; not as a general but a colonel with aspirations well beyond his station. The General provided military support and planning. Many hidden within the military were ardent supporters of the Preservers.
The Leader called to him, “We have need of your unique insight, our General. You have been tasked with leading the campaign here on Berralton. For the benefit of the inner circle, please counsel us on the strategy you intend to employ for dealing with this man now known to us as Janus Owens. The tall, robed figure strode forward, his hood rippling with his rapid advance to the center of the semicircle. He nodded crisply to the Leader then turned to the others and began to describe his plan for dealing with Owens, becoming increasingly animated as he spoke.
The General received occasional comment from some of the other members. The Leader stepped back and listened. Suggestions were made and modifications considered. Some were accepted; some were rejected. The Leader asked a few pointed questions designed to trigger comment from other members and guide the planning along a preferred path. In the end, all agreed to the course set by the General’s plan.
“It has been decided that no more attacks from space will be initiated,” the Leader concluded. “We will now concentrate our efforts on a ground attack as outlined by the General.” The Leader then called for an end to the meeting but before the group made to leave, with voice raised, the Leader dismissed them with a simple warning, “Failure cannot be allowed. We must prevail in preserving the Light for without it, there is only darkness.”
● ● ●
Later that evening, not far from the location of the Preserver’s earlier assembly, the Grand Patriarch paced back and forth in his receiving room. His expression was set in furrowed concentration; he was oblivious to the other occupants of the room. Sharné and Talin watched nervously, not daring to interrupt his thoughts. His steps finally slowed until he stood motionless, staring at nothing.
Still not looking at either Sharné or Talin, he said, “They have gone farther than I could have ever imagined. A second attack on Janus Owens! They left the protection of Golstar again to attempt an assassination, but this time in a system with a Confederated Planets’ Government Center! I would not have credited the opposition with such resolve or foolhardiness. They risk exposure to Confederated Planets.”
His face became clouded with anger and his voice continued to rise, “They have known what we were about to attempt all along... every step we took!” He opened his hand and revealed several small disks appearing less than a centimeter in size with fine wires trailing.
His voice lowered, but the icy displeasure remained. “When your standard electronic sweeps faile
d to reveal any hidden surveillance apparatus,” he looked at Talin, “I then had these rooms physically searched. My agent eventually came up with these. These crude listening devices are ancient technology but still very effective.” He dropped them on the floor and ground the tiny disks under his heel.
He kneaded his forehead with his fingertips, “It is time to admit the plan is in real jeopardy. We now know the opposition has been aware for some time there is plan afoot. This latest move is another attempt to prevent its success by employing the most extreme measures imaginable. Though these preemptive strikes have so far failed to remove Janus Owens, they have succeeded in alerting him and hopefully, he will remain vigilant.”
Sharné ventured a question, “What will you do now?”
“Their recent actions severely impact our original strategy.” He looked at the large book on the corner of his desk and shook his head sadly. “It might have actually worked had it been given the chance. After Owens had been verified to have all the key attributes, our plan was tailored to his profession and moral code.” The Grand Patriarch swept the book off the table in disgust.
He looked at Sharné. “If the plan had worked as I envisioned, the quarantine with Confederated Planets would be maintained without interruption. Now it appears we will have to rely on an abbreviated version of the plan. In doing so, I will be forced to take additional steps to ensure the fear and respect we have benefited from all these years will continue unabated. Should Confederated Planets ever suspect the true situation…” his voice trailed off.
“We can no longer afford to be circumspect.” He frowned at Sharné. “Your role has changed. I still want you to be my representative, but now it will be simply to greet him in your official capacity as Keeper of the Way. I expect you to follow diplomatic protocol on his arrival. He’ll likely be expecting this and it will set him more at ease. Once he is aboard your ship, you will give him his task; that part of the plan remains unchanged. Your personal involvement will be more limited than your original role. We will need to discuss the details later.”
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