“Yes,” the Zaketh replied with a confident nod, pointing toward the communication console. “If your changes to communications function as promised, we should be able to convince any approaching ship that this is still a Yakiir vessel under the command of Captain Barrek. The hole in our starboard side should actually assist with our deception – our having just fought a battle, sustained damage and suffered injuries will do well to explain away any minor discrepancies and missing crew members. Why… what do you expect will happen next?”
“I am hoping that at least one ship from the other side will come through and supply us with additional information,” Adam told him expectantly. “If we’re fortunate they will want to travel somewhere, hopefully to one of the home worlds. If we are ordered to escort them, that would suit me just fine as we would get to see a so-called ‘foothold system’ up close and map it. However, even if they order us to proceed to our next target we should still be able to gather the information we need.”
“How?” Vasten was genuinely curious, since Adam had been deliberately vague about their next move.
“Because the programming for missile number two is incomplete,” noted Adam with a wry smile. “That tells me at least part of our next objective is contingent upon the success or failure of this one. If the ship or ships that come through leave us here to continue on to target number two, they should at least tell us what to do in order to obtain the rest of the programming for our second warhead.” He shrugged. “If they don’t, that means we’ll be expected to rendezvous with another Yakiir vessel prior to moving on to our next target.”
“I don’t like this idea,” grumbled Cren Hollis under his breath. “Meeting up with other Yakiir vessels sounds like a good way for the Yakiir on board to have their loyalties tested.”
“Believe me, meeting up with one or more additional Yakiir warships isn’t my favorite option either,” Adam admitted reluctantly. “I’m hoping this Caucus is as methodical as its reputation and that they’ve got everything planned out for this mission. So far all indications are that they have done exactly that.”
On the screen, there was almost nothing left of the original star except for a lengthy, oblong cluster of shattered, stellar material consisting primarily of hydrogen and helium fuel that was currently in the process of igniting all at once. It looked like the remains of a huge, shattered egg, except now with millions of lengthy, exploding tendrils probing steadily outward from the western hemisphere, demonstrating to everyone watching the immense power of the quashing weapon’s electromagnetic pulse. A steady stream of telemetry continued to scroll by on the inside of Adam’s eyeball, allowing him to monitor the status of the star’s destruction while the Ali Rinai’s crew watched from afar. This was a staggering event to witness, one that he would never forget as long as he lived. It had been one thing to hear stories about the destruction of entire stars within the Wasteland and to view the various nebulae left behind in the aftermath. It was another matter entirely to actually observe massive destruction on that kind of a scale.
“There goes the Point-to-Point activation sequence,” he pointed out to the others. “The wormhole is forming, and the weapon is activating its homing beacon.” He turned away from the window to face them. “Whoever is on the other side will wait for the radiation in the area to subside to a safe level and then send whatever ships are waiting through to our side. It’s time to go to work, fellows.”
*
It took nearly forty-five hours for the initial surge of the dying star to fade to the point where the crimson red glow of the surrounding nebula clouds faded gradually to a dull orange. Throughout that timeframe, Adam ordered everyone to finalize last minute preparations for contact with the Yakiir and their Kuth allies. Once again, the starboard cargo bay was sealed in order to better protect the final remaining quashing missile. Armor and rifles were disbursed to soldiers in all three clans comprising the mixed crew of the Ali Rinai. On-duty crews rotated in quick, six hour shifts that allowed them time enough to eat and get plenty of rest. It was easy for the new Captain not to worry, since the Science Lab staff back on Tranquility Base continued to monitor data relayed to them through his implant via the Command Center computers. As soon as the signal emanating from the weapon in play changed, he was promptly notified by the current Sentinel on duty.
That proved to be Dr. Karen Simmons, her soft words entering his mind during a quick meal in the Mess Hall. Rising almost instantly, he tossed his nearly empty plate into a large bin and headed for the exit. Tapping the ear transceiver he wore for intra-ship communications, he requested that Snee Vasten and the four Crasel meet him once again in the Command Center. Moving swiftly, he was the first to arrive and immediately directed his attention toward one of the huge windows. There were still a few soft reds to be seen within the nebula clouds, but most of the ferocious glow had long since dimmed back to a dull orange. The star itself would continue to collapse for years, its former, multi-billion year lifespan snuffed out in the blink of a few days by the massive outburst of energy from the quashing weapon.
“What’s happening?” asked Cren Hollis as he and the others entered the large, spacious Command area and its circular row of computer workstations. “What is it?”
Adam’s smile was both nervous and excited. “The weapon just received a response signal from the other side of the wormhole,” he informed them. “Someone on the other side is preparing to cross over. Their ETA is less than five minutes.”
Snee Vasten poked his head in a moment later, nodding affirmatively toward Adam to signal him that all final preparations were complete. “We’re ready,” he stated confidently.
They waited patiently for almost a half hour before the Ali Rinai’s motion sensors detected other vessels in the area. “They’re tiny,” noted Tran Wuu, standing next to a pair of on-duty Zaketh, also watching over their shoulders. “One, two, three…” he trailed off as the small ships continued arriving, but in bunches this time.
“Fighter cover,” guessed Vasten with a smirk. “That’s what I would do if I were them… I’d first make certain that the area was secure before flying any valuable assets into it.”
To allow for proper study of the star’s destruction over the past few days, there were several different settings programmed into the telescope. Adam reached out impulsively and activated the camera feed that was locked onto the transit wormhole’s location. Tiny moving dots were clearly visible, and – his curiosity getting the better of him – he remotely adjusted the telescope, ordering it to zoom in closer on its target coordinates. “Would you look at that?” he gasped with astonishment.
The small ships did indeed appear to be fighters, but they were also unlike anything he had ever seen before. Each of them was shaped like a flying, four-fingered claw with its palm facing down. Everyone studied the sinister, gray-hulled fighter craft curiously along with the bright green alien markings painted on their outer hulls. Arte Kasik shot Janney Stox a dirty look, pointing a stabbing, accusatory finger at the talented but superstitious warrior. “Don’t say it,” he cautioned sternly.
“I can’t help it, mate,” countered Stox with a frightened, nervous laugh. “Mott’s Ghost, but that’s a sight.”
“There are at least three dozen fighters,” Vasten informed them a moment later. “More contacts. At least two larger vessels are coming through now. Three, four, now five…” He trailed off, watching the larger targets on the motion sensors trundle along after the speedier, smaller fighters. “Nine capital ships in total, similar in size to this one. That’s quite a convoy they’re running out there.”
“Why would they do this?” asked Hollis with sincere curiosity. “Why would they go to all this trouble to move so many ships and people over to our space? Wouldn’t it just be easier to steal our resources and return them to their home?”
“Their home is dying, almost gone by now,” responded Adam grimly. “Long, long ago traffic through these wormholes may have gone both ways, but probabl
y not for tens of thousands of years now.” The image of Bok’s dream and a sky with only a small sprinkling of stars here and there returned. “They must have estimated that there was only a hundred thousand years or so left for them to act, and so they came up with a plan that would take about half of that time to complete. They came here intending to escape to a new home, one much younger than their own.”
“What do the larger ships look like?” wondered Arte Kasik, peering over Adam’s shoulder at the image transmitted to them from the telescope.
Adam shifted the zoom outward a little more, revealing more and more of the area now populated by moving ships. “They look like blocky, rectangular bricks of various sizes all stacked on top of one another… a lot like… this one,” he declared with a dark chuckle. “Are you guys starting to see where the resources for your never ending war have been coming from?” He noticed the look of concern on all of their faces – even Snee Vasten looked shocked. That was when he felt the first touch of Karen Simmons’ unseen presence in his mind. [“Thomas wants you to run a detailed scan on all of those ships, but the fighters in particular,”] she informed him. [“When they draw closer, look out a window and study them. Your enhanced eyesight will pick out more details than normal vision with the implant’s assistance.”]
[“What would draw that much of his curiosity?”] asked Adam silently. The others remained completely unaware of his sudden interaction with his friends back at Tranquility base. Currently they were too busy watching the area’s newest visitors move steadily closer to the Ali Rinai.
[“He’s wondering if their weaponry is standard bullets and rail pellets, or whether or not they’ve managed to weaponize a version of their pulse weapon over and above a missile warhead. If that pulse weapon can be fired from those ships, your vessel could be destroyed in the blink of an eye.”]
[That is an excellent question,”] Adam admitted with concern. [“I will try and get an answer for you.”]
[“Thomas also wants to set up a private, shipboard transit in your quarters at the next available opportunity,”] she told him. [“He is very interested in the unknown material you found in the warhead.”]
“That’s it,” Vasten spoke up suddenly. “Nine larger ships in total have moved through the wormhole, and another squadron of fighters has emerged to cover their rear.” He glanced up at Adam, completely confounded. “Nine ships and a couple of fighter squadrons… that’s it? What kind of people would destroy an entire star simply to move a total of nine large ships into our space? That’s totally insane.”
“Try looking at it from their point of view,” shrugged Adam in response. “These ships hold a couple of hundred people each, and there are nine of them. Let’s estimate 2,000 people per trip. My friends believe that they’ve been at this for more than 46,000 years, destroying approximately four to five stars per year, on average.” He shook his head with disgust. “If you do the math, theoretically they could already have moved more than four hundred million Kuth into the Wasteland. And that’s not counting the front end of this project, during which time they were destroying stars on their side of this ‘bridge’ of theirs to get here.”
“Your numbers are assuming a maximum of nine ships comes through during each explosion,” Tran Wuu pointed out. “How long can that wormhole stay open?”
“As long as they can drain enough power out of that exploded star,” concluded Adam, shifting his gaze toward the science workstation. “If this is indeed everything that’s coming through, then it will no doubt shut down very soon. You can bet they have defenses in place and waiting on the other side, just in case.”
Snee Vasten turned toward Adam, clearly puzzled. “I still don’t completely understand,” he admitted with his usual frankness. “The history of the clan wars in this spiral arm is pretty well documented from generation to generation. All of the clans used to fight each other with equal ferocity, and all of them used to quash stars in order to deny resources to other clans and prevent them from establishing footholds in suitable star systems. Why is it only recently in our history that the Kuth threw their support solely to the Yakiir when they could have done so way back in the very beginning?”
The point caused Adam to think carefully before answering. “I’m only speculating,” he said finally, “but for the majority of this project, the primary objective seems to have been to move ships and resources into your space. Thus backing one clan would actually slow the process. Providing resources, including quashing weapons, to all clans allowed them to speed up the transfer of personnel and resources from their side. Whenever any of you quashed a star, their end of the wormhole probably appeared in the same place, probably nearby their home world. If they had convoys like this one that were prepped and ready to go, then they simply moved through each time there was an opportunity. With Point-to-Point technology available, who cares where in the Wasteland they emerge? The Caucus has been monitoring and manipulating the entire war from the beginning, using the battles between your people to shrink the humanoid population here while theirs steadily increases.”
A loud bleeping noise suddenly sounded from the transceiver attached to Snee Vasten’s belt. He cussed and removed the device, studying its small screen and the flashing red lights curiously. “Someone is already trying to open unauthorized communications with the newcomers,” he told them, swearing loudly. “I think it’s only one person, but it could very well be more than one.”
Adam smiled reassuringly. “Take the men you need and go get them,” he ordered, watching the other man nod firmly. “The computer will identify their location in seconds and automatically relay the data to you.” Vasten continued cussing angrily as he vanished swiftly back out into the main corridor.
“How is this going to work?” asked Janney Stox curiously. “Blazes mates, if we are betrayed from within we have no chance. Sooner or later, someone from an enemy ship is going to want to board this one.”
“That’s not your problem soldier,” snapped Adam. “Allow us to do our jobs.”
Stox studied him respectfully. “Aye sir. I’m just a little rattled by all of this, if you know what I mean.”
“Believe me,” Adam told him. “I know what you mean.”
An alert sounded from the communications board, notifying him of an incoming transmission. Touching the workstation’s keyboard, he used the language translator from his implant to decode the message. You are ordered to pull alongside the lead ship in our convoy and dock with us for inspection, he read silently to himself. If your ship is up to the task, we will send you on to your next target as scheduled. Reply with all standard identification protocols and security codes within five minutes or you will be fired upon.
“What is it?” asked Hollis, noticing the tight lines of his face.
“They want me to answer with the proper security codes or they’re going to start shooting at us,” he said, doing his best to keep his friends informed. “That’s no problem, since I was able to decrypt the data they’re expecting right out of the Captain’s personal files. But it also sounds as though they want to send a boarding party aboard to make certain everything here is shipshape.” He shook his head with obvious concern. “I don’t like that idea, but I also don’t want to try and break away from them unnecessarily, because then they will know for certain that something has definitely gone wrong.”
“What do we do?” The blood had drained from Arte Kasik’s face at the prospect of actually encountering any of the Kuth face-to-face. It was obviously not a meeting he was looking forward to.
“For now, we stall,” chuckled Adam. “After that, there are plenty…” He trailed off as another series of electronic chirps and whistles sounded from the console relaying telescope footage to the command center. [“Adam,”] Karen Simmons’ voice sounded in his mind once again. [“Data relayed to us here is showing that something else is coming through the transit wormhole,”]
[“A minute ago that wormhole appeared to have been expanding away to nothing,
”] he protested quietly, sending the proper codes as requested by the convoy. Then he moved swiftly over to the telescope workstation and began studying the new telemetry as relayed to the Command Center. Carefully watching the location of the latest transit carefully, he saw suddenly why the wormhole had grown so large.
“What? What is it?” asked Tran Wuu, noticing Adam’s astonished expression.
“Something else came through.”
“What? Another ship?”
He waved casually toward the windows, eyes still studying the information displayed on the workstation’s computer screen. “Take a look for yourselves,” he suggested.
The four Crasel did just that, moving over toward the windows so that they could look out upon the dusty, glowing orange clouds of gas and stellar dust still floating around the dying star, tightly encircled by the larger, cooler purple ones. Except that there was a new, easily spotted shape there now… a dark circle in full silhouette that appeared to be a small dot on top of all the glowing orange dust. Along its eastern hemisphere, a slender silver crescent betrayed the sunlight illuminating the surface area from the opposite side. At first the small group of soldiers refused to believe that they were indeed seeing what they were, in fact, seeing. Then they moved even closer to the windows in an effort to get the best angle. “It cannot be,” gasped Janney Stox. “Mott’s Ghost, tell me what I’m seeing is an illusion of some sort.”
“It’s no illusion,” concluded Adam while moving away from the console in order to join them near the windowed area. “Our convoy from the other side of the wormhole appears to have brought an entire planet along with them.”
Tran Wuu just looked at him and stared. “Maybe they’re not wasting as much of that dead star’s energy as we thought they were,” he commented, exhaling in disbelief.
The Pathfinder Trilogy Page 58
