Alpha Fleet (Rebel Fleet Series Book 3)

by B. V. Larson

  I hesitated. I had an idea—but everything I knew about enemy behavior was classified. There had been secrecy breaches here at the base, enough of them for me to take secrecy seriously.

  “Dammit, man!” Jones said. “I know I’m only the base goon around here—no one tells me anything. But I deserve to know I’m going to die, if that’s how this is about to go down.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He was my friend. I’d saved his life, and he’d saved mine in the past. But to see him here, now... it was odd. He was the security chief of the interior tunnels. Not here on the general external base.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him. “Why aren’t you down in the tunnels watching the transmat?”

  He looked startled. “I thought you knew,” he said. “They brought me up here to help convince you to take that base job Vega wants to place you in so badly. You know… an old friend talking up a shit assignment.”

  I almost laughed, and I relaxed. Walking over to stand beside him, I looked at the table. The rift had widened like a dilating eye.

  “You recognize those stars?” I asked. “Seen through the rift? That one is red—and damned big.”

  “Uh...” he said. “You think it’s Antares?”

  I nodded. Over the recent years, everyone had gotten pretty good at astronomy. Antares was a red supergiant. It was so large our sun would look like a dot of light if the two were close enough to compare. Located about five hundred lightyears from us, it was used as a beacon for navigation during long jumps.

  “That means they’re coming from a beacon point,” Jones said thoughtfully. “They’re probably from an even more distant starting location, if they had to use the beacon as a first step to get into our neighborhood.”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “But you haven’t told me who you think—” Jones said.

  That’s when I clocked him. A hard right to the jaw. It was a sucker-punch, and I felt bad about it the moment I’d launched it.

  Jones was my friend, as I said, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t Jones.

  The man fell, knocking aside a few chairs. He was on his hands and knees, not quite flattened.

  “How did you know?” the man asked.

  “I just knew,” I said.

  “Liar. I gave myself away somehow.”

  I didn’t know his real name—but I knew who he was. To me, he’d always been Godwin.

  “Godwin,” I said, putting my hands on my knees and leaning over him, “are those your ships up there? Are you invading my world?”

  He shook his head and rubbed at the blood dripping from his face. Already, the pigment of his skin was changing. His head was shifting shape, becoming smaller. It was an amazing process to watch.

  “Can I get up?” he asked. “Or are you in a punchy mood today?”

  “I am, but you can get up.”

  I backed up a wary step, and he rose to his feet. “I’m not going to let you do that again,” he told me. “That’s the third time you’ve struck me without warning.”

  “As I recall,” I said, “you came at me with a knife the first time.”

  “Yeah... well okay. Two times, then.”

  His transformation continued as he spoke. It caused him to slur his words somewhat. Lt. Commander Jones was an older, black guy. He was large, but not flabby. This new figure, Godwin, was Caucasian and average in build, height—everything. Right then, that struck through to me. Perhaps if Godwin could change his shape, he’d chosen a very average appearance in order to blend in.

  “You’re still playing the spy?” I asked him. “While some kind of armada is about to violate our local space? Can’t you understand why I might be jumpy?”

  Godwin—because he was Godwin now—eyed the display hanging over the conference table.

  “You’re scared,” he said. “You hit me out of fear?”

  “Yes, I guess I did—but I’d call it caution mixed with outrage at your attempt to fool me.”

  He tore his eyes from the display and looked at me. “Do you know that you’re the only human who’s ever spotted me? You’ve done it three times, too.”

  “You’re a spy,” I said. “You can change your appearance, but you can’t change who and what you are. I know you now. I’ll always know you.”

  “Disconcerting... but anyway, I’m here to help, not hurt. The ships coming to visit aren’t from my worlds.”

  “Ships? More than one?”

  “A handful at first. Many more if you won’t comply.”

  I stared at him. “And what demands will these ships present us with?”

  He shrugged. “The usual, I guess. Surrender of sovereignty. Perhaps a regular tribute of wealth. Political and military obedience, at the very least.”

  As he spoke easily of unthinkable humiliation for my planet, my blood ran cold.

  “How did you know they were coming?” I demanded.

  “We know what’s happening in this system. We watch you constantly. Normally, we don’t interfere—but this could be big.”

  I frowned at him, trying to think. “So you are the Nomads? The people the Imperial Kher ran out of the galaxy?”

  His eyes flashed in anger then. I’d struck a nerve. That impressed me, as I’d injured this being on several occasions, and he’d never seemed to be overly angered at any of those moments.

  “That’s what they call us,” he said in a low tone. “Your ancestors were our friends, long ago. Trading partners. But they violated every deal we ever made and stabbed our backs when we were weak. We retreated—but we’ve never been beaten.”

  I nodded, absorbing this. I’d already begun recording the conversation with my sym. I knew it would be considered valuable intel by our spooks.

  “The Imperials aren’t my people,” I pointed out. “We Rebel Kher—we’re different. You’ve said it yourself. Besides, they’d slaughter us just as soon as they would you.”

  He nodded slowly. “All right then, I’ll give you some information. The ships coming today are Rebel Kher—like you. They were friends when the Imperials came against you, but now, they think the Imperials are in retreat. They think they can dominate you, and they will most likely succeed.”

  “We have ships,” I said. “We’re not helpless.”

  He shook his head. “They have more.”

  I frowned. “What should we do?”

  He shrugged. “What all conquered peoples do. Fall on your knees, pretend obedience, and plot for the day the tide turns. Survive so that your children may—”

  I wanted to hit him again. Perhaps he sensed that, because he flinched away and stopped talking.

  “Never!” I told him. “We’ll not bend a knee when threatened. You should know us well enough to be aware of that by now.”

  He shrugged, stepping back. “My message has been delivered. I came to try to get you to see reason, but I failed. My work is done here...”

  He turned to go, but I reached out and hauled him back. He looked me up and down in irritation.

  “Why should I let you leave?” I asked. “Why shouldn’t I march you to the stockade right now?”

  “I doubt you have a prison on this planet that could hold me,” he said with a hint of arrogant pride. “But I’ll give you a reason to save us both the inconvenience. Think about it, Blake: I came here to find you. I gave you valuable information. What did you give me in return? Pig-headed boasting and a bloody mouth.”

  “Yeah...” I admitted, “that’s pretty much how it went.”

  “Well then, can you imagine a situation in the future where I might know something Earth would like to hear about?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yes, I guess so. You’re offering to come find me and pass me intel? As a back-channel?”

  “I’m promising nothing. I’m pointing out facts that should be more than obvious.”

  “All right,” I said, letting go of him. “One more question, and you can be on your way. I won’t sound the alarm for ten minutes.”

>   “You don’t have that long.”

  I blinked, and I glanced at the projection of the rift that still spun over the conference table. It hadn’t changed, but I had the feeling the lull wouldn’t last long.

  “Why’d you choose me?” I asked him. “Why me, Godwin?”

  “You have more imagination than most of your kind,” he said. “And besides, when the invaders come, they’re going to ask to talk to you. I thought it would be best to communicate with you because you’re about to become directly involved in this interstellar confrontation.”

  Interstellar confrontation? That sounded suspiciously close to war to my ear.

  Were we about to go to war? The thought was grim. I’d seen dozens of scorched worlds with exterminated populations turned to ash.

  “Go then,” I said. “I have to think. You’ve got one minute to...”

  I glanced back, but he was already gone. Had he stepped out into the corridor? Gone invisible?

  It hardly mattered. Godwin had left me with a giant pile of shit, and I knew that my recording of his statements wasn’t going to solve anything. No one was going to want to surrender on the advice of one ghostly alien.

  =3=

  Striding out into the hallways, I found the place deserted. People had all moved to their battle stations. The base was on full alert, and no one had been assigned to stand around in the conference room on the top floor.

  I felt a little left out. I wanted to find Hammerhead, gather my crew and scramble—but that wasn’t going to happen. Hammerhead was parked in orbit now, at a station in geosynchronous freefall over Europe. I still felt like she was my ship, but very few people seemed to agree with me.

  It was frustrating, but all I could do was walk to the nerve center of the base and look around for a way in. Tactical Operations was for approved personnel only, especially when we were on a war-footing, but I figured if I showed up, someone might invite me into the party.

  Being able to watch the events unfolding above me via my sym was no comfort. I wasn’t able to take action. Knowing nothing would have been better. Sometimes, ignorance truly was blissful.

  “What are you doing here, Captain Blake?” a twitchy serviceman asked me as I approached the building.

  “That depends on General Vega,” I told him. “We were in a private meeting when all this broke. Is he inside?”

  The man flinched when I mentioned Vega’s name. The General had a reputation for chewing on people who got in his way. I could tell the guard was trying to figure out his next move. If he stopped me, he might have to deal with Vega if I was in fact supposed to go inside. On the other hand, if I was just another unauthorized tourist in the command center, things may go even worse.

  In the end, he decided to play it safe. He shook his head.

  “I can’t let you in, sir. We’re under lock-down. Sorry.”

  “No problem,” I told him, giving him a nod.

  Turning away, I stepped out to the concrete columns along the narrow, curving drive out front and leaned against one of them.

  “Uh… sir?” the guard called out. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

  “Not right now,” I admitted. “I don’t have an official post in an emergency on this base. My post is up there, aboard Hammerhead… but they aren’t letting me fly her today, either.”

  The guard fell silent for a moment, but I could almost hear him fidgeting.

  “What’s going on, sir?” he blurted at last. “What’s really happening? Are there alien ships up there? Above the clouds?”

  I closed my eyes and sent my perception up through an army of computers and satellites. At last, I found one that had optics focused on the rift.

  A ship had appeared since the last time I’d looked. As I watched, another ghosted into view behind it.

  They were big vessels—heavy cruisers by the look of it—but they were moving in cautiously. Perhaps they knew we had a few ships of our own.

  “They’ve shown themselves,” I told the guard, turning to look at him. “I can see them with my sym. Two ships have just arrived. More might be coming.”

  He looked like he might shit himself, but I didn’t think this was the time to comfort him or laugh at him. This was go-time.

  The guy took in two panicked breaths, glancing upward then flicking his eyes back down to me.

  “Go in, Captain Blake,” he said at last. “You know these aliens better than anyone on Earth. Do something. Stop them, blow them up—anything!”

  I gave him a reassuring smile and nodded as I walked past. He had an inflated view of my capabilities, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “I’ll do what I can,” I said.

  Inside, the command center was a genuine charley-foxtrot. Everyone was tense, nearly panicked, but they couldn’t really do anything other than shout at each other demanding more information.

  The base commanders at Cheyenne didn’t have any direct authority over our collection of phase-ships, that team was inside the mountain itself, but we were in the loop as far as current events went.

  Glimmering imagery hung over our heads, displaying the scene I’d already formulated in my mind with the help of my sym, but their version was much higher resolution. There were numbers—ranges, velocities, course vectors—superimposed on everything.

  Three of our phase-ships were already within reach, and six more were inbound. Within minutes, the intruders would be surrounded.

  But it might not matter. The alien ships outclassed us. If they brought in more—even just a second full squadron—we’d be hopelessly outmatched.

  None of this seemed to impinge on the circle of staffers surrounding the projected scene. They were working up fresh numbers, reporting anomalies and waiting to see if they would be called upon to act.

  “Not much we can do about it if they start shooting,” I offered, stepping up to the projection table and standing there nonchalantly.

  Several officers glanced my way.

  “Captain Blake?” Gwen said. She’d been assigned here months ago, as she hadn’t been holding out for space duty. Right now, that fact made me envy her. “When were you called in?” she asked.

  “A couple of years ago,” I said. “By the Rebel Kher.”

  She released a little puff of air. “You think that’s who they are? How can we be sure?”

  “Those aren’t Imperial ships,” I pointed out. “They’re some kind of independent. Either they’re Rebel Kher from another nearby world—or we’re really in trouble.”

  “What will they do, sir?” another staffer asked me.

  “How should I know, Lieutenant? I’m a spacer, not a mind-reader.”

  They stopped asking questions then, and I was glad they’d skipped over asking me if I belonged here. They’d all assumed someone had brought me in—and that was true, but I didn’t think any of them would respect Godwin’s authority to give orders.

  Gwen pointed at the projection then, making a hissing sound of worry between her teeth. A third ship had appeared. The third ship took its place in a line with the other two. Together, they moved toward Earth at a stately pace.

  I felt a tickling droplet of sweat under my arms. How many more ships were coming to this party? Already, they had more firepower than all twenty of our phase-ships combined. All we had was the surprise factor, as our ships could maintain stealth until they engaged. But for all we knew, these aliens could see us anyway. There was no way to tell from their actions so far.

  “Are they pinging at us?” I asked.

  “Negative,” Gwen said. “It’s all quiet up there. Maybe they have no idea we have ships of our own.”

  “Why would they send three heavy cruisers, then?” I asked. “Why not just one ship loaded with bombs?”

  Several sets of alarmed eyes fixated on me.

  “You think they’re going to do that, Captain?” the watch officer asked.

  “I’d have to know what world they came from to divine their intentions.”

/>   The officer looked me over. “I’m not sure you’re cleared for this—but I don’t know if that matters anymore, either. Here’s what we’ve got so far: They’re Kwok ships, manned by Grefs—at least, that’s who they usually use. I understand this particular group of primates refuse to serve as anything other than officers.”

  “Kwok ships…” I said, thinking hard. “That’s Admiral Fex’s homeworld…”

  All of a sudden, I got a sick feeling. Before my ship had been mustered out of the Rebel Kher navy, one of the last things I’d done involved Admiral Fex. Secretary Shug had placed him aboard a ship full of Grefs… That decision had been made based on my accusations against Fex.

  “Hmm…” I said, watching the ships as they approached. “If I were you guys, I’d assume these vessels are hostile.”

  “You do know something, then?”

  “Just Admiral Fex, his people the Kwok, and the Grefs themselves… well, they don’t like humans too much. The last time we were in contact with them—it went badly.”

  Memories flooded over me. We’d shot Grefs with disrupters until the smell of their burnt hair lingered for days.

  The watch officer stared at me for a moment, then he contacted General Vega.

  That made me wince, as he mentioned my name during his report.

  “General, it’s the considered opinion of this ops team, including the expert you sent us, that they’re hostile. What’s that, sir? What expert…? Why… I’m talking about Captain Blake, sir.”

  My smile lingered, but it was pasted on by now. The watch officer listening closely, then turned slowly to frown at me.

  “General Vega would like a word, Captain.”

  “I bet he would,” Gwen commented.

  I shot her a glance and tapped into the conversation via my sym.

  General Vega seemed pissed off about something.

  “Blake? What are you doing away from your post? A war is about to start—”

  “I don’t have a post on this base, sir,” I said, “but I’m technically still Hammerhead’s captain. If you wish, I’ll scramble to Geneva and—”

  “Your post is a faculty office!” the General boomed in my ear. “Now, get out of my control room and toss me back to Commander Tenet.”