The Sentinel (The Sentinel Trilogy Book 1)

by Michael Wallace

  “This is one ship of a whole fleet. We have new tactics, new weapons. We’re working with the Hroom now. We only want to share what we have, use your resources to knock the buzzards out of the sector. Maybe wipe them out for good.”

  “Fight here, with our people, not in your own systems.”

  “Apex knows where you are, and they won’t rest until they wipe you out. Your battle station is compromised.”

  “We were hidden before you came.”

  “Stupidly,” she said. “Build a fortress and keep it hidden while your home world is destroyed? That makes no sense.”

  He didn’t answer, so she pressed on.

  “You’re blocking our transmissions. We tried to tell you of our peaceful intentions, but you were preventing us from doing so. Why?”

  “We only demand your surrender. Nothing else matters.”

  “You didn’t demand a damn thing. You tethered us and tried to board. And how did that work out for you, anyway?”

  “A temporary problem,” the man said. “You’re caught and you can’t get away. We’ll come again.”

  “And we’ll knock you back in the dirt when you do. How many of your men and women are dead or prisoners because of your stupid attack?”

  “It doesn’t matter. We have more crew than you.”

  “Not if you lose them at a ten to one ratio. It’s only a question of time until you can’t even defend your own base.”

  “We will see.”

  His English was improving moment by moment, the strange elements to his sentence structure vanishing, with less searching for words.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  She didn’t expect him to answer, but he defiantly met her gaze. “Jeremy Megat.”

  “An English first name and a Chinese last name. Did you know that on Earth, Singapore was part of the British Empire? Albion was settled by the Anglosphere: Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and some Americans. Our ancestors were allies before. They could be allies again.”

  “Megat is a Malay name, not Chinese,” he answered. “It was a mixed colony of people. And your people were colonizers on Earth. Exploiters of Malay and Chinese alike. They wanted us only as labor for their empire.”

  Tolvern didn’t know the history, but it didn’t matter. It was hundreds of years ago, and carrying those grudges into space was ridiculous. She was getting nowhere, and had to figure out how to reach someone more reasonable than Megat.

  “Who is your commander, and how can I talk to him?”

  Megat didn’t answer.

  “Who sent us the message?” she pressed. “The Fibonacci sequence?”

  A twinge in his expression. “Nobody sent a message. Our base is a silent sentinel. It does not send messages.”

  You fool, I can see you’re lying. It’s all over your face. Someone sent that message, and you know it.

  Instead of voicing this aloud, she said, “I want to talk to your commander. If he tells me to my face that he wants nothing to do with Albion, that he wants to sit here rotting away, then we’ll leave.”

  “You won’t leave. We are taking your ship and seizing your crew.” Megat smiled. “That is only a question of time, as you say.”

  #

  Tolvern returned to the bridge to discover it empty. Smythe and Lomelí were down in engineering, as was Capp, and even the pilot was out, down in the gunnery, using his nav chip to help recalibrate guns that had been knocked off their carriages. A tech had come in and stripped open several consoles, leaving exposed wires and hardware boards. Strips of cut cable lay across the floor.

  The viewscreen showed the gas giant off starboard, around which both they and the battle station were slowly orbiting. A vast, swirling eye lingered below them, a storm that could have swallowed the entire planet of Albion whole. Other moons and asteroids reflected glints of the distant sun, and icy rings encircled the planet in a swath that arced from top to bottom on the viewscreen.

  She changed the view to port. Now the Singaporean battle station dominated the screen.

  Megat’s so called “silent sentinel” was a series of interconnected rings, with unidentified globules on the interior and two hexagonal structures stacked on top of each other on the exterior, glowing a cool blue like backlit sapphires. Turn off the filter that was cutting out the sun, and that light would disappear. The entire structure would look like background space, melting into whatever it was viewed against. And the illusion wasn’t purely visual; there was spectacular cloaking technology that hid them from passive and active scanning, too. The Admiralty would love to get its hands on that tech.

  The station was large, maybe three times the diameter of Blackbeard, bow to stern. Plenty of living space in those globules, and maybe in the hexagons, too, although that was where the main weapons had appeared, bristling, to wipe out the Apex lances in a spectacular display of firepower.

  But unlike Royal Navy fortresses, which were dug into captured asteroids or small moons, the whole structure was artificial, and frankly, looked fragile. No doubt that was illusory, but it seemed to rely on secrecy and overwhelming firepower, not defense. Sure looked like it could use a navy task force to keep the buzzards at arm’s length.

  Why were they so unwilling to accept help? It didn’t make sense.

  And then there was that message she’d received. The Fibonacci sequence. It was almost like the Singaporeans were trying to lure Blackbeard in all along, trying to snare her for their own purposes. Strip her for parts and crew, apparently. Except was that worth blowing her secrecy? Because Apex had also learned the location of the battle station, as it turned out.

  “You’re schizophrenic, my friend,” she said, as if the battle station were a person standing in front of her. “You don’t know what you want, do you?”

  Barker called from the engineering bay. “I still need a couple of days, Captain. But I can keep us from explosive decompression, that’s something. Do you want me to send someone out to do some cutting?”

  “I’d rather not tip our hand until we’re ready.”

  “Not talking about the tether or the gravity net. But we’ve got these hoses sticking out of us—so long as they’re attached, we’re at risk of more boarders. If I cut ’em off, that gives me more crew to work with. No need for a bunch of our best workers to stand around holding rifles and picking their noses.”

  “Hold on, let me take a look.”

  Tolvern, still alone on the bridge, manipulated the display. There was no way to get a view of what Blackbeard looked like gripped in the battle station’s embrace without sending out a sensor probe, which she didn’t want to do. But she brought several cameras in for a tighter view and could see a stretch of the hull, at least.

  Three large tubes plunged into Blackbeard, snaking over from one of the globules attached to the station’s outermost ring. It looked parasitic, like the station was a giant creature attaching a trio of proboscises to drain its prey of fluids.

  “You still there, Captain?” the chief asked. Tolvern imagined his mustache twitching impatiently. “Apologies, but I don’t have time to wait on your musings.”

  “Don’t cut the lines,” she said.

  “Yeah, all right. Your call.” He didn’t sound pleased. “I think we’ll hold together without them, though.”

  “It’s not that. Is Capp around? Is she busy?”

  “She’s strapping into a powersuit, going to haul out some broken pipes. Are you cooking something?”

  “Keep working,” Tolvern said. “I’ve got an idea that might buy you some more time.” She switched channels. “Capp, you there?”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” A grunt, then, to someone else. “No, not like that! Gimme the bigger clamp. The big one! Cap’n, I say we haul out those Chinese and make them do the grunt work. And if one of ’em gives me any lip, I’ll clock him upside the head. In fact, I wouldn’t mind giving all those fools a good beating. Did you know they killed Yatz? That’s right, the new guy took a bullet. Eighteen ye
ars old, three months in the navy, and poor kid is already a goner. I’d like to take them Chinese and—”

  “Shut up and listen, Capp.”

  “Aye?”

  “You’ll get your chance to land some blows sooner than you think. Are you up for some more fighting?”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I am.” Capp sounded instantly alert. “I hate this messing around fixing stuff while we wait for ’em to smash it all up again. What are we talking about?”

  Tolvern explained what she was thinking, and why. Capp listened silently at first, but when the captain got to the good part, she let out a whoop of joy.

  “Damn right!” Capp said. She was already shouting at someone to get her out of the suit when the call ended.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Commander Li figured he’d be challenged as he led the Openers toward the command module. His sister had enjoyed plenty of time to consolidate her rule. Already, she’d taken over fire control, expelling several Openers and shooting two who resisted.

  Li had four others with him, including Hillary Koh. All were armed, three with shotguns, one with a grenade launcher, and Li with a pistol he’d collected from his quarters. He’d entered his rooms, fearing that they’d been ransacked and his sidearm stolen from its cabinet, but they were untouched. Anna had been too busy to get to it.

  The five of them curved around the outer ring from the detention block, startling two women who had a wall disassembled and were messing around in a suspicious way with wires and computer boards. The women ran for it, and Koh threatened to shoot them in the back if they didn’t stop. Li ordered Koh to hold her fire.

  They soon discovered what the women had been about. The central transportation conduit was shut down, preventing an easy trip to the ring along the rail line. But nobody had yet disabled the service conduit, and they put on breathing masks and traveled in the airless expanse that passed behind the main conduit. Soon, they were on the inside, approaching the command module, and had yet to be challenged. Where was everybody?

  “Hold here,” he told the others as the corridor bent around a corner. “Try Swettenham one more time.”

  Koh had kept up a mumbled conversation through her com link as they picked their way through the battle station. She’d been taking and sending all manner of calls, organizing her own people for the uprising. Maneuvering them into parts of the base not yet under Anna Li and Jeremy Megat’s control.

  Some of her expected allies had not answered, including Li’s second in command, Harold Ang, who’d apparently been sent out of the command module. Neither did Dong Swettenham, their only other man on the inside. Koh thought he’d already been purged, but Li had his doubts. Who would Anna replace him with? The best communications people were all Openers.

  “Swett, are you there?” Koh tilted her head. She let out her breath in a hiss. “There you are! I thought they’d taken you out. Where the devil—? Yeah, uh huh.” She turned to Li. “He’s alive, he’s still on the inside.” Her face darkened as she listened on. “There’s been an attack.”

  “On who?” Li demanded. “Us or them?”

  Koh didn’t answer. She listened for a moment, nodding, as if Swettenham would be able to hear nods over the com. “Got it. We’re there in sixty seconds. Keep your head down when we enter.”

  She turned to one of the others, the man named Hwang, whom Li had originally sent to the power plant to keep him out of the way. “You have that charge? Good. Swettenham disabled the blast doors, but he can’t get to the entrance—we’ll need to knock it down to get in.”

  “Hold on,” Li said. “What’s going on here? I demand to know.”

  Koh turned to him. Her gaze was calm, almost lizard-like with her eyes half-closed. Once again, he felt as though he were being pushed aside, and wondered if she would even bother to answer his question or would tell him to shut up and stay out of the way.

  He’d be needed when she took over the base. If she took over the base, that was. If not, Anna had already shown herself happy to use him. Either way, Li would be a puppet for the winning side, to lend legitimacy while heads rolled, while rule was consolidated. Then tossed into the recycler with the rest of the surplus crew.

  “You still want us to take the command module, right?” Koh asked. “Or did you change your mind? Don’t tell me you want to leave your sister in charge—she’ll get us all killed.” Koh studied his face as she said this. “Good. I didn’t think so, but for the love of your ancestors, can you stop being so indecisive?”

  Koh stopped and looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. Li realized he was still in charge, thank God.

  “Yes, carry on.”

  “We’ll only have surprise for a moment—we’ve got to get in and take them out before we lose it.” Koh turned to Hwang and the others. “Ready? Anyone you see, you shoot, got it? On my count.” She gestured with her rifle. “One . . . two . . . go!”

  They charged, and pistol in hand, Li ran after Koh and the others. They came around the corridor and down the final passageway. He’d expected a half-dozen of his sister’s people to be guarding the door, but there was only a single man with a shotgun. He was barely paying attention, and had only begun to lift his weapon before Koh and two of the others fired. Li brought his pistol up, but it was already over, the opponent slumped against the door in a smear of blood.

  “Blow it down,” Koh told Hwang as she took the gun from the dead man’s hands and tossed it to Li. “Only one guard,” she added grimly. “Better than I hoped.”

  Li holstered his pistol and gripped the shotgun, which was still warm with the dead man’s body heat. His heart was pounding, his stomach tight, but a strange calm had come over him. There were no decisions to be made here, only to follow Koh’s orders as she sent him into battle. He could do this, follow orders. Shoot and kill if needed. It was making the decision to kill that sent him spiraling into a black hole of doubt.

  Meanwhile, Hwang unhooked an explosive charge about the size of his fist from his belt. He peeled off a piece of adhesive tape from the back of the charge and pressed it against the door. The charge wasn’t shaped properly, having been taken from a collection of mining supplies, but it was more than enough to knock down the door, assuming Swettenham had disabled the heavier blast doors on the other side. Otherwise, they’d be stuck outside.

  Once the charge was in place they ran back the way they’d come to take cover. Koh wasted no time once they were around the corner, pulling her computer from her hip pocket and punching in the command. Li gripped the shotgun under his arm to free his hands, which he then slapped over his ears. A muffled explosion went off.

  And then they were racing back down the corridor toward the command module. The blast had knocked a hole in the doors, a gaping, smoking opening big enough to slip through. Li was the last one inside. By the time he got inside the command module, a burst of gunfire was going off, someone was shouting, and fire suppression systems sprayed foam at the burning doorway. The air smelled of gunpowder, burning plastic, and chemical retardant.

  “Hold your fire!” Koh shouted. “It’s over.”

  That was unnecessary, as the shooting had already stopped. Li saw Swettenham through the clearing smoke, his back against the wall, holding his leg and groaning. The doors were open on the far side, and there was nobody else in the command module, either dead or alive.

  Koh swung the gun over her shoulder and rushed to the downed man, cursing. “Who shot you? Which one of them did this?”

  “You did, you idiot,” Swettenham said through clenched teeth.

  Li went to Swettenham. He turned the man’s leg to look at the wound, which was on the inner thigh. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Don’t touch me. Ow, please.”

  Koh moved to the far door and poked her head out to inspect the far corridor. She glanced back and took in Swettenham’s wound. “A little higher and you’d be peeing sitting down.”

  “You shot me! Weren’t any of you
listening? I was yelling over the com. I tried to tell you—they all ran away when the blast went off. There was nobody else in here but me.”

  “Sorry, that’s my fault,” Koh said. “I gave the order. Why didn’t you keep your head down like I told you?”

  “I did! I was behind the commander chair. You were just shooting so wildly.” He said all this through gasps of pain.

  “Some of the shot must have ricocheted,” Li said. “Come on, stand up, it’s not so bad. A few small pellets is all, and they hit on a bounce. You’re barely bleeding. We need you at the computers.”

  Swettenham grimaced as Li got him to his feet and helped him into one of the chairs at the communications console. Koh took another seat. Hwang and the other three took position by the door, guns at the ready in case the Sentry Faction mounted a counterattack.

  “I thought for sure Anna and Megat would put up a fight,” Li said. “Why did they run off?”

  Swettenham’s face was regaining some of his color. “There were only three of them, they couldn’t put up a fight.”

  “Who?”

  “Your sister and a couple of others. Megat is gone—I’m sure he’d have stood his ground. What about the guard at the door?” He glanced at the far side, where they’d blasted their way in. “You took care of him?”

  “I still don’t get it,” Li said. “Anna was taking control of the whole base a couple of hours ago, and now she’s run off. Why didn’t she put up a fight?”

  Koh shook her head, looking equally confused. “One guard and only three enemies in the command module. Maybe we overestimated the strength of the Sentry Faction. They were cowards when it came right down to it.”

  “You’re wrong,” Swettenham said. He was grimacing again, the fingers from one hand digging into his leg near, but not on, the wound, while his other hand worked the console. “While you were out in the ring figuring out how to mount an operation with five Openers, Megat and Engineer Li got fifty crew members armed.” He tapped his finger on the console and nodded toward the viewscreen. “There’s your answer.”