Commander Junius did not reply, though his eyes stared back at Virgil Prime resiliently.
“It would be an act of war, sir,” said Commander Junius soberly. “But the Rotham have already declared Renora as one of their own systems, an Imperial world, sir! And these ships are, by their own admission, heading for the Angola Systems. That is very near Renora. We have standing orders to destroy Rotham ships heading into that sector of space.”
“Orders from whom?” asked Virgil Prime; he knew the answer but was setting up his reply.
“From Queen Kalila Akira.”
“Yes, exactly, from a woman who claims to be the Queen of the Empire. And indeed, to many worlds and starships, she is the queen. But to even more, she isn’t. Dozens of worlds have refused to take a side in the emerging conflict, along with hundreds of starships—including ours. Meanwhile many others openly defy her claim. Even the Imperial Assembly on Capital World, representing every planet in the Empire, refuses to recognize her. In fact, they have declared her an Enemy of the State. Do you really think orders from her are binding?”
“I… I don’t know,” admitted Commander Junius. “But she is an Akira, the last one left.”
Virgil Prime folded his arms and looked at Commander Junius with pity. Using his body language to demonstrate to everyone watching how weak Commander Junius’ argument was, the idea that Kalila’s accident of birth entitled her to command the fleet, despite the government’s instance otherwise, was ridiculous.
It wasn’t quite enough to completely stymie Commander Junius, however. “The Assembly has yet to elect a proper king. Which means the governance of the Empire rests on the shoulders of the late king’s last living heir.”
“There is certainly a succession crisis,” Virgil Prime admitted. “And the Empire is being torn apart into factions. Civil war is coming. That is unavoidable. But if we fire on these Rotham ships, it won’t just be civil war that is stealing the lives of our citizens, it will be foreign war, pitched battle against the mighty Rotham Republic. With things as fragile as they are, would you seriously have us be the ones to spill first blood and start another Great War? Blood of civilians no less.”
This seemed to take Commander Junius completely aback, and to Virgil Prime’s relief seemed to win over the other humans. From their body-language he could tell he’d gotten their attention and made them think twice.
“Sir,” said Commander Junius meekly. “I have family on Renora. Or… at least… I think I do. I haven’t heard from them in a while. And I don’t think Kalila would order us to fire on ships heading to Renora without there being a good reason.”
“There is a good reason. She wants to frighten the Imperial worlds who haven’t yet declared a side to choose her, so humanity can unite against the common threat of the Rotham menace. A threat that, as of now, is only imaginary. But I promise you, if we fire even a single shot, that imaginary threat will transform instantly into a real one. And then there will be war across the galaxy. All Kalila needs is an incident.”
After considering this final point, Commander Junius nodded. “I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to second-guess you.”
“It’s quite all right,” said Virgil Prime amiably, but still in a commanding tone. “I value your judgment. Now, Mister Reynolds, if you’ll kindly transmit instructions to the Rotham convoy that they may resume course.”
His subordinates obeyed. Allowing the Rotham convoy to continue on its mission. Unknowingly executing the will of the One True God.
Chapter 11
“Sorry for the intrusion, Commander, but you asked us to alert you.” A voice crackled over the comm. “We’re twenty minutes from our destination, at present depth.”
Summers had to blink a few times to regain her bearings. She’d been ripped from an unusually deep sleep. After a moment, the disorientation passed.
The voice over the comm continued, “currently we are at ninety-one percent potential, all systems operating within accepted parameters.” Summers recognized the voice, it belonged to Midshipman Petersen, the Green Shift ops chief.
Summers climbed out of bed and pressed the comm. “Thank you, Midshipman. Is the stealth system active?” She’d given very explicit orders that the ship was to activate stealth and maintain radio silence long before reaching the DMZ.
“Yes, sir,” replied Petersen. “The stealth system is engaged and functioning normally. No one should be able to detect us.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said. Though, truthfully, she’d started to think of the stealth system’s ability to shield them as less of an umbrella and more of a parasol, considering the number of times it had failed to adequately hide them. But, she supposed, it was still better than nothing. So long as she didn’t allow herself to be lulled into a false sense of security.
She changed her clothes and headed to the bridge. By the time she got there, they were about fifteen minutes from their destination, with Green Shift still on watch.
Cassidy Dupont was the first to acknowledge Summers’ presence as she stepped onto the deck. The younger woman gave up the command position immediately and saluted; the others saluted too. Summers returned their salutes.
“Any updates?” asked Summers as she took her seat at the center of the bridge.
“Nothing unusual to report,” said Cassidy. “The nearest ships are common civilian cruisers and freighters. Normal commercial traffic, mostly. We did spot one military convoy of three destroyers, but they seemed to be on a standard patrol.”
“Any sign that they noticed us?” asked Summers.
“No sign. They held course and did not attempt to hail us, or scan us, or anything.”
Summers nodded. “Any comm chatter?”
“Nothing unusual,” said Cassidy. “Not that we picked up anyway.”
Very good. Summers pressed the tips of her fingers together. “Mister Tully,” she turned her chair to look at the fat civilian who occupied the pilot’s seat and wore the comm headset—undoubtedly bending it with his massive head.
“Yes, sir?” He looked back at her, his forehead slick with sweat. Summers wasn’t sure if the perspiration was from jittery nerves, or the result of heat from his many folds of unnecessary insulation that baked him where he sat.
“Please notify the bridge officers of the White Shift to report to their stations on the double. Once they arrive, you and Mister Peterson along with Mister Roy are dismissed.” She turned her chair to look briefly at the other officers. The Green Shift ops and defense officers were still strangers to her. And she was not particularly interested in having them manning those critical posts when the ship finally dropped out of alteredspace. Especially since she was anything but convinced they’d be invisible to whatever hostile ships were out there.
“Right away, Commander,” said Mister Tully. He relayed the orders to the lower decks.
“As for you, Midshipman Dupont,” said Summers, turning to look at Cassidy—who was undoubtedly the most competent officer of the shift. “You shall remain here to observe.” Summers wanted Cassidy to benefit from the experience as much as she could, to help season her as a command officer. And, Summers figured, Cassidy would be useful in a pinch. Her ops knowledge was second only to Mister Iwate Shen. And Summers wasn’t yet convinced that man was ready for duty. During the previous shift, though he’d performed his job adequately, something about him had struck Summers as emotionally or mentally checked out. Considering that they were about to drop into a potentially very dangerous situation, and ops was arguably the most important station on the ship, Summers didn’t want to have to pin all hope of success on Shen. If he showed even the remotest degree of sluggishness or incapacity, she would remove him and instate Cassidy on the spot.
“Aye, aye,” said Cassidy. Summers nodded toward the XO’s seat next to her and Cassidy took the hint and sat. There was no reason for Cassidy to remain standing the whole time, and honestly Summers preferred to have Cassidy sitting next to her than the buffoonish Acting XO. Beside
s, Miles would need to take the defense post now that she’d dismissed Mister Roy. And Summers didn’t feel like taking the station herself, although she was perfectly qualified. Mister Donaldson was the new White Shift defense officer, and he would undoubtedly report to the bridge with the others, but considering the inherent danger of the situation they were about to enter, Summers preferred to have Miles at the defense post. Sure he was a complete idiot for which the universe owed the human race both an apology and an explanation, but he was also, admittedly, damned sharp with the ship’s guns.
By the time the others arrived, and replaced the Green Shift officers, they were only seven minutes away from their destination. Summers ordered Sarah to keep the ship’s depth and trajectory steady. As expected, Miles whined about Cassidy being “in his chair” but once it was made sufficiently clear that Summers intended for Miles to sit with his big sweaty fingers curled around the ship’s guns, he stopped complaining and took the seat he was most used to. The only place on the whole damn ship he belonged, the only tiny fraction of a reason that even remotely pretended to justify his presence on an Intel Wing starship.
“ETA three minutes,” reported Sarah, giving them reports at regular intervals as instructed.
“Final check, all systems,” commanded Summers. She’d gotten a status report not two minutes prior but it didn’t hurt to check again. Especially since she knew she had to be ready for anything once they dropped out of alteredspace; they all knew it.
“Jump depth ninety-one percent and holding. All systems prepped for alteredspace exit, stabilizers and braking thrusters report ready,” said Sarah. “Comm traffic silent.”
“Shields are unpowered but ready for action,” said Miles, looking more than a bit trigger-happy. “Missiles loaded, guns loaded, and beam weapon is ready to charge. We’re armed to the teeth and ready for a fight, Your Mightiness.”
Summers narrowed her eyes at Miles’ use of the honorific, which was a kind of insubordination in its own way. But she didn’t have the luxury of rebuking him just now. “What about the stealth system?”
“Engaged and running like a champ.”
“Very good,” Summers next looked to Iwate Shen. Who seemed… almost distracted. He had a somber look to him and appeared absent-minded, as if off-in-space somewhere unraveling the mysteries of life, the universe, and everything else, perhaps not ready for action. When he didn’t provide a status report, Summers was sorely tempted to have Cassidy replace him then and there, but somehow she found the patience within herself to give him one more chance. “Mister Iwate,” she said.
“Yes, Commander,” said Shen, snapping back to attention. He shot Sarah a strange look as he twisted his chair to face the center of the bridge. Summers made eye contact with him, thinking there was something different about the man’s brown irises. Almost a hint of redness to them, though it was probably just her imagination…
“Status report,” she said in an even tone.
He spun back to face his computer screens. “All systems are good, critical systems such as defenses and life support are ready to receive auxiliary and tertiary power if needed.”
“Very good, Lieutenant. Make certain you’re ready.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Forty-five seconds,” said Sarah.
“Standby for alteredspace exit,” said Summers. “Keep your eyes on your systems, especially Lieutenant Iwate and Mister Brown.”
“Acting Executive Officer Brown,” Miles mumbled.
Summers ignored him. She took a moment to steel herself mentally, wanting to be ready for whatever situation they found themselves in once they arrived. She then looked over her officers, pleased to see that they appeared ready for action. Sarah was focused on initiating their transition from alteredspace to normal space, and was no doubt standing by to guide the ship into emergency maneuvers should the need arise. Shen seemed checked back in and focused on his computer screens. Miles sat on the edge of his seat, no doubt itching to blow something up. And Cassidy sat next to Summers, clearly eager to help in any way she could. Summers smiled at her, glad to have her presence of mind and levelheadedness as a sort of check against Miles’ idiocy. Mister Donaldson was there too, standing uselessly. He’d no doubt expected to be seated at the defense post since he was technically the current White Shift defense officer. Summers had ordered him to remain in case she needed to remove Miles from the post, or if the large oaf of an officer proved otherwise unable to serve.
“Ten seconds,” said Sarah. “Nine. Eight. Seven…”
Summers locked her eyes to the 3d display. Currently it was blank, except for a projection of the Nighthawk at the center. She wondered what they would see once they dropped into normal space.
“Three. Two. One.”
A splash of stars suddenly filled the window, as if painted by a swift brushstroke.
“We have arrived in normal space,” announced Sarah. “Braking thrusters have fired, current position one-one-three-nine-point two-seven-seven by three-three-six-mark-four by nine-one-nine-mark-one. All stop.”
“Defense systems?”
“Stealthed, shields down, weapons standing by,” reported Miles.
“Ops,” said Summers, “what do we see?” Her eyes flicked back to the 3d display but it still showed blank. Certainly there had to be something out there.
“We are twenty-two point three million mc’s from the local sun. In this system, there are over four million objects larger than one kilometer in diameter,” said Shen. “Composition: silicate rock, nickel, iron, and carbon with trace other elements. The nearest object is seven point three million mc’s away from our current position. Computer confirms we have arrived at the edge of the Kynar Asteroid Field.”
It’s about time, thought Summers. “Do we see any ships?” she asked, wondering if the ships carrying the isotome weapons were still in the system.
“Impossible to tell for certain,” said Shen. “Our scanners haven’t identified any yet, but there could be one or more ships hiding within the asteroid belt. A small starship’s mass would be impossible to distinguish from the asteroids, and visual and radio scans could be equally frustrated. We’ll have to comb through the asteroid field in a circuit to know for certain.”
Summers nodded. “What about alteredspace jump signatures?”
“None that I can detect. Though there are signs that might indicate the remnants of a very faded, or very distorted, series of jump signatures. It is likely that any alteredspace jump signatures have faded beyond recognition.”
Unfortunate but not unexpected. Nevertheless, Summers remained hopeful; she knew the jump signatures of the isotome bearing vessels all coalesced to this point. Which meant someone was here or soon would be, they had to be! Which made this system, and any clues it would reveal, the best lead they had to chase down and destroy weapons far too deadly to be in the hands of mere mortals.
“Very well, commence search of the asteroid field. Lieutenant Winters, accelerate us to sixty-thousand mc’s per second. But slow us down appropriately once we risk striking the debris.”
“You got it,” said Sarah. She still wore her inappropriately cropped uniform, despite her knowledge that Summers disapproved. Unfortunately, a rebuke would have to wait.
The position of the stars in the window seemed to move as the ship changed angle and accelerated.
“I have something,” said Shen. “At least… I think it’s something.”
Summers nodded to Cassidy, indicating that she should go investigate what had gotten Shen’s attention.
“Is it a ship?” asked Summers.
“No,” said Shen. “It’s a radiation source.”
“A weapon?” asked Summers.
“No, it’s a natural source of radiation. There appear to be several small, dense pockets of thorium distributed throughout the asteroid field. Considering the entire field, thorium composes less than a thousandth of one percent. However, near those pockets of thorium, there is enough natural
radiation to confuse a starship’s sensors. If there is something near any of the thorium asteroids, something no larger than a starship, then odds are good that a scan of the asteroid field wouldn’t detect it. Even from close range.”
“Even with scopes as advanced as ours?” asked Summers.
“Yes, probably.”
“Perfect little hiding places…” mused Summers thoughtfully.
“Yes, I think so,” said Shen.
“Suppose they are hiding there, either the isotome weapons or the ships carrying them, how would we discover them, if our ship’s scans won’t pick them up?”
“It would take a while but we could do two close orbits, laterally opposed by ninety-degrees, of each significant thorium object and could inspect them visually.”
“You mean we have to look out the window to see if they’re there?” asked Summers. “Detect them with the naked eye?”
“That and use the standard optical telescope,” said Shen. “I’m not saying it won’t take a while. But if they are out there, and that’s where they’re hiding, that is the only way I could guarantee that we would find them. After all, it’s not like they can literally become invisible.”
“True,” admitted Summers. “Though neither can we. If we’re that close, close enough to see them visually, then that means they would be able to see us as well. Stealth system or not.”
“Yes that’s probably true,” said Shen. “The hull of our ship is black and that should help us a little, but ultimately you’re right. If we move close enough to see them, then they will likely see us too. And the element of surprise will be lost.”
“What do you think, Midshipman Dupont?” asked Summers.
Cassidy looked away from Shen’s screen, which she’d been reading over his shoulder, and turned back to Summers. “I agree with him. If there’s anyone out here, that’s where they’d be.”
The Phoenix War Page 16
