by Nick Webb
“Friends. Again.”
Chapter Fifty
Wreckage of Moon El Amin
ISS Vanguard
Bridge
Mullins smiled too. Finally. There was the proof. At least, proof that Quimby would believe, the stupid bastard. “You see?”
“See what?” The president still stared at the screen, watching the two talk—the Dolmasi leader and Proctor.
“Mr. President, have you not studied the briefing on the Swarm that Oppenheimer has surely supplied you with? You do recognize this language, do you not? This very particular wording?”
Quimby swiveled his seat toward Mullins. “I see Proctor defusing the situation, Mullins. In a fashion that, while admittedly a little unnerving, is effective. You’ll note that nobody is firing at each other. Seems like a win to me.”
Oh for god’s sake….
“Mr. President. If you’ve read your briefings—which I’m sure you have—you’ll undoubtedly know that this particular terminology was what the Swarm used. They wielded considerable influence over individuals infected with the Valarisi virus, a process that they called making friends. And once someone was … converted, if you will, or fallen under Swarm control, they became friends.”
Quimby’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced back up at the screen. Good—Mullins could see the little wheels turning in the asshole’s head.
“And now, she’s not only using the same friendship language that was so particular to the Swarm, she’s claiming she’s allies with the Dolmasi, and that she will help them hunt down the humans who are the Dolmasi’s enemies.”
And now for the clincher. “Furthermore, Mr. President, we’ve detected a steady stream of meta-space communications between the ships out there, including the Independence. Is it not clear to you what is happening?”
Quimby stared at the screen, watching the two continue to talk. He nodded slowly. “You were right. I don’t know how, but you were. She’s under Swarm control. So are they. The Dolmasi. Holy shit. I … I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it, Mr. President.”
Quimby turned back to him. “Oppenheimer too?”
“I’m almost sure of it. She’s acting on his orders, after all. And did you see his reluctance to use the meta-space pulse to finally put a stop to this? To end the threat once and for all? He’s complicit. I’m one hundred percent sure he is Swarm-controlled.”
The little wheels churned. Mullins could almost see steam coming from the president’s ears. Good god, people voted for this ignoramus?
“Ok. Do what you have to do.”
Mullins nodded solemnly. “Yes, Mr. President.” He paused. “By the way, Mr. President, we have on board several … warheads. Banned warheads. Anti-matter bombs. Some of the original produced under President Avery during the war. I’d go to prison if I used them and it was discovered, but … you could authorize it. It’s a pretty damn big decision though. Something that none of your predecessors since Avery ever … dared to do.”
At the word dared, Quimby’s nostrils flared. He could play this man like a fiddle.
Quimby’s eyes opened as wide as his nostrils. “I dare, Admiral Mullins. I decide. I make the decisions. And this one’s mine. I authorize the use of anti-matter warheads against the Dolmasi. Do any have meta-space shunts attached?”
Mullins smiled. “Of course.”
“Then you have my authorization. Fire.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Wreckage of Moon El Amin
ISS Independence
Bridge
Captain Volz watched and listened to the negotiations, sitting on the edge of his seat. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath as several points in the conversation until his vision swam a little bit.
It was working. Shelby had done it. She’d actually done it. Qwerty had figured out the Dolmasi language enough to grab their attention, and force them to talk. And now Shelby was actually getting them to stand down.
They might actually win this thing. Win without even firing another shot.
Lieutenant Cobb, the tactical officer, shouted. “Sir! Detecting … oh my god.”
“What?” Volz spun around to face the officer.
“It’s an … anti-matter warhead. It just fired from … somewhere.”
“An anti-matter warhead? Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. The gamma signature coming off it is unmistakable.”
Oh my god, indeed. “Those are banned! What the actual hell? Where did it come from? Where is it going?”
Cobb shook his head. “Unknown. And it’s trajectory is … not towards any single ship. It’s just … going in the general direction of the Dolmasi fleet.”
“Guided?”
“I think so.”
“Take it down. PDCs. Weapons clear. Fire.”
The viewscreen changed to show the exterior of the ship, and Volz watched streams of shells leap off the Independence’s hull, racing towards the warhead. But the missile looped and swerved. It was indeed guided, and had a sophisticated ordnance evasion package to boot.
“Increase rate of fire. Take that thing down!”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Wreckage of Moon El Amin
ISS Defiance
Bridge
“Admiral! Someone just fired an anti-matter missile!” yelled Whitehorse, interrupting her conversation with Kharsa.
She spun around. “Where did it come from?”
Whitehorse shook her head. “Unknown.”
Proctor drilled her eyes into Liu. “He’s here. Isn’t he? Mullins.”
Liu nodded. “It would seem so.”
On half the viewscreen the camera tracked the progress of the missile, which raced out towards the middle of the space occupied by the Dolmasi fleet. Streams of fire from the Independence leapt out, attempting to take it down.
“Lieutenant, fire. All PDCs we have.”
“Admiral? That will give away our position.”
“Do it.”
The viewscreen erupted in even more weapons fire as their own PDC cannons tracked the missile.
But it was hopeless. It swerved and dodged, and when it was in the middle of the Dolmasi fleet, it exploded.
The viewscreen blinked momentarily at the explosion. When it came back on, everything looked the same except for the quickly dimming fireball that had been the missile.
Whitehorse shrugged. “Huh. Whoever shot that wasn’t even aiming at anything. All Dolmasi ships intact and accounted for. Guess we got lucky.”
Something was wrong. They did not just get lucky.
She turned to resume her conversation with Kharsa, but paused when she saw his face.
It was frozen. His eyes open as wide as she’d seen them.
“Vishgane? We’re investigating that missile. Are all your ships ok? I didn’t see it damage any of your vessels but….”
She trailed off. Something was wrong. He wasn’t responding. Just staring at her.
Whitehorse flagged her attention. “Ma’am. I think I know what happened. There was something attached to that warhead.”
Proctor finished her sentence. “A shunt. A meta-space shunt. Like the ones that were on the nuclear warhead that….” She couldn’t even finish her own sentence. The nuclear warhead that Danny’s ship fired at Sangre de Cristo.
“Except … well, ma’am, this was an anti-matter warhead. Fifty gigatons. This completely dwarfs the bomb over Sangre de Cristo, and the one that came out of our own hanger deck and detonated over Earth. And subsequently, the energy released into meta-space was … immense.”
The viewscreen image of Kharsa disappeared.
“Where did he go? Get him back.”
Qwerty shook his head. “Sorry ma’am. They terminated the transmission.”
“Admiral, they’re coming about. Kharsa’s ship and the ones in his formation. They’re advancing on our position.”
“Move us. Keep our heading random. They shouldn’t be able to track us. Buy us some time t
o untangle this mess. Qwerty, keep trying to get them back.”
And on the viewscreen, something else appeared beyond the Dolmasi fleet. Something big.
Something huge.
The Magnanimity. Polrum Krull’s ship.
“Incoming transmission from the Skiohra, Admiral,” said Qwerty, glancing up nervously up at the giant Skiohra generation ship that had just appeared. “It’s a broad-range signal designed to blanket this entire area. Text only.”
“Read it.”
Qwerty’s eyes grew wide. “We have terminated the Ligature. It is gone. You can abuse it no more. Go in peace, Motherkiller.” Qwerty looked up. “That’s all, ma’am.”
And, as quickly as they’d arrived, the Skiohra q-jumped away.
Proctor couldn’t believe it. “They destroyed their own meta-space link. They destroyed the Ligature.” After thousands—tens of thousands?—of years, they’d destroyed their own method of communicating with each other over long distances. Even short distances. From what she knew of Skiohra physiology, the mothers on board their generation ships even used it to communicate simultaneously with the thousands of children living within them, in addition to their thousands of children already born.
The Swarm had used the Ligature for their own corrupt purposes, but at its core, it was still a fundamental part of Skiohra society, despite the fact that it had been used for thousands of years to control the Dolmasi, and presumably the Findiri and Quiassi—though nobody could be sure of that.
Proctor could not keep an involuntary shudder from running the length of her spine. Even at the height of the war against the Swarm, the Skiohra had not destroyed the Ligature. But now, in reaction to humanity’s actions, they had done so. There would be consequences. Of that, Proctor was sure.
Liu glanced sidelong at her. “But what does that mean?”
Proctor stared at the screen, at the assembling Dolmasi cruisers. “It means … that the only moderating influence on the Dolmasi … the only thing that ever kept their warlike tendencies in check… is now gone.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Wreckage of Moon El Amin
ISS Vanguard
Bridge
“Sir, the shunt worked as designed. Nearly forty percent energy conversion,” reported one of the tactical officers near Mullins. He’d let the president sit in the captain’s chair, relegating the real person in charge—himself—to a seat at the tactical station. “Conversion completed within two point five nano-seconds. Resulting meta-space power spike … about fifteen million exawatts.”
“That ought to grab their attention,” said Mullins.
“Sir,” the tactical officer continued, “before the warhead detonated, there was a second source of PDC cannon fire aiming at the missile.”
“Source?”
The officer shrugged. “Unknown. It’s like it came from empty space, near a point here….” He tapped at a spot on the holographic schematic of the local volume of space displayed above the tactical board.
Proctor.
“It’s another stealth ship. Proctor is on it. Only thing that make sense.”
“Good Lord, how many of these things did we build?” said Quimby.
“Officially? Two. The Vanguard, built at Shovik-Orion’s Aegis shipyards at Bolivar, and the Defiance, which should have been in the safe keeping of Admiral Tigre out of San Martin, but it looks like the old softie has turned it over to Proctor.” Mullins looked at the viewscreen at the front of the bridge. “Ah. There’s our cue to leave. The Dolmasi are coming around and forming up into attack wings. Navigation, get us the hell out of here. We can’t have the president in a war zone, after all.”
Quimby looked like he might actually protest. Mullins could see the conflict in the man’s face—on the one hand he didn’t want to look weak, like he was running from danger. On the other hand, people died in battle, and powerful men tended to gain and keep power because they were good at not dying. “Unless, you’d prefer to stay, Mr. President? Watch how the chips fall here?”
A pause, then a forced laugh. “Nothing else to see here, in my opinion. Get me to Britannia. I think it’s time to get the joint chiefs of staff together and have a discussion about how much longer we want Admiral Proctor running around. And Oppenheimer—he should be at Britannia right now anyway.”
Mullins smiled, and gave the signal to the navigation officer. “Most wise, Mr. President. Most wise.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Wreckage of Moon El Amin
ISS Defiance
Bridge
“Admiral, the Skiohra q-jumped away, but there’s something else. Right as they q-jumped into the vicinity a minute ago, there was another q-jump signature from somewhere nearby. Something left just as the Skiohra showed up.” Whitehorse glanced at another flashing indicator on the tactical board, and smiled. “Also, Admiral Tigre just showed up with the San Martin defense fleet.”
Proctor sat back down and watched as the Dolmasi fleet ordered itself into several attack wings. It seemed their mental instability was gone. Gone with the Ligature. And in it’s place, a cold, clear-minded general leading his warriors into battle.
“It was the source of that missile. That other q-jump signature.” She motioned to Qwerty. “Get me Tigre.”
A moment later, Admiral Tigre’s lined face appeared on the screen. “Miguel, how many stealth ships are there?”
“Two.”
“You’re sure?”
“Pretty damn sure. These beauties aren’t cheap, or easy to build. I had one—the Defiance. And, if I’m not mistaken, I believe the other one went to Mullins. The Vanguard.”
Shit. The old bastard was behind it all. Setting up a war between them and the Dolmasi. As a screen and a front, to keep them all distracted while he seized power. It was the only explanation.
“Regardless. We’ve got a situation here. Is your fleet prepped for battle? These Dolmasi look like they mean business, and I don’t think we can talk our way out of it this time.”
“We’re ready. I’ve got seven heavy cruisers and ten frigates. Add in the Independence and the Defiance and we’re about evenly matched.”
Proctor sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of. I’d rather be in a position to kick their ass. But you go to war with the army you have, Admiral.”
“Indeed,” grumbled Tigre.
The first Dolmasi attack wing swung by, unleashing a storm of green anti-matter beams on Tigre’s fleet even as the Independence swung up and around to flank them.
“Zivic, get your ass out there,” she said into her comm.
“Yes, ma’am!” came the reply. And she could have sworn that he added, just as the link cut out, “Finally.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Wreckage of Moon El Amin
Lieutenant Zivic’s Cockpit
“All right people, look alive. There’s five of us and five hundred of them, but keep your heads and we might stay alive,” said Zivic as the five birds lifted off from the tiny hangar deck and blasted out into the void. There were far more than five of them, given that the Independence and the San Martin defense fleet had shown up, and there didn’t appear to be anything close to five hundred Dolmasi fighters, but the true number—the HUD claimed two hundred and thirteen—was enough to pose a problem all the same.
An indicator on the HUD told him that his bird’s extremely long wave radio was receiving a signal. He flipped it on with a blink of his eye.
“Whitehorse to squad,” came Jerusha’s voice through the heavy static. The ELW radio was only used in extraordinary circumstances, and it was Ace’s idea to use it now since it would be difficult to get a spatial lock on the stealthed Defiance using the ELW radio instead of the usual comm signals. But it made for nearly incomprehensible communications. “Orders are to assist … defense of the San Martin flee—. Defiance is stealthed so we’ll … fine. Independence … plenty of fighters, … Dolmasi seem to be focusing … San Martin fleet anyway.”
“Roger th
at,” said Zivic. “On me, people. Ace and Bucket take my three, Barbie and Spectrum on my nine. Let’s go show these bastards what real flying looks like.”
They shot out towards the unfolding battle engulfing the San Martin defense fleet. A dozen Dolmasi light cruisers were descending on the Farragut and the Enterprise, green beams lancing out with terrible destructive power, viciously slicing into the hulls. Zivic winced when he saw a body fly out from one of the gashes in the Farragut.
“Break. Delta formation. Wrap around and take the bogeys out at Z plus one.”
The five ships broke out of formation and looped around and up from the plane of approach, catching a group of Dolmasi fighters by surprise that had been harassing one of the San Martin light cruisers. Three puffed into debris and shrapnel before the others had even noticed the fighters.
“Ace, careful there. Bucket, help her out.” He fired off another few shots at a hapless bogey even as he watched Bucket loop around Ace and blast the tail she’d picked up.
Barbie whooped over the comm. “Take that you flying two-faced dolphins!”
That was a new one. Playing off the word Dolmasi, Zivic supposed. No time to speculate. “Watch Spectrum’s six, Barbie, he’s got a tail.”
“On it, mate.”
Barbie swung wide and up, as if leaving the plane of battle, before he pulled a hard six and pointed “down” as Spectrum shot by with his Dolmasi tail, which quickly exploded in a muted fireball as Barbie peppered it with slugs. “Oh boy, put another shrimp on the barbie,” Spectrum called over the comm.
“Wait … I thought we called you Barbie because your voice sounds girly, Barbie,” said Zivic.
“Nah,” Bucket said, “It’s because of that idiotic catch phrase. What the hell does that even mean?”
