Alpha Fleet (Rebel Fleet Series Book 3)

by B. V. Larson

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I charged you with finding out why we couldn’t jump wherever we wanted to. Why were your calculations so far off?”

  “The answer is so simple even you can understand it,” he said. “The swarm threw us off.”

  When he said that, my face froze. I did the math in my head—not the advanced calculus, mind you, I’m talking about the basic addition.

  Creating a worm-hole was a tricky business. Getting a rift started was relatively easy. You aimed a device at a point in space and ripped a hole in it. That wasn’t much more than an application of intense warping to very tiny region.

  The real trick came when you were placing the end-point of your tunnel at the precise coordinates in normal space that corresponded to where you wanted to go. It was like firing a rocket at an angle—lighting the thing off was easier than getting it to land exactly where you wanted it to.

  What we used to perform this trick were guidelines, mostly large gravity-wells. Big stars served this purpose in most cases. We weren’t interested in their radiation output, brightness, etc. We were only interested in their gravitational pull. That recognizable constant could be used to guide our placement of an end-point across the lightyears.

  Knowing all this, I immediately understood what Abrams was talking about.

  “Gravity-drones…” I said. “Of course. They were all around us, not close enough to distort our ship’s position, but plenty close enough to ruin our calculations.”

  “Exactly,” Abrams said, nodding. “The first time we jumped, I ignored the data the AI was feeding me. The computer’s numbers made no sense—however, the AI clearly knew about the spheres and had compensated.”

  “Right,” I said. “It all makes some kind of sense now… but the second time—we didn’t come out on target then, either.”

  “Oh yes, we did.”

  I frowned. “But we weren’t targeting the Diva system. We didn’t even know it existed.”

  Dr. Abrams gave me a thin smile. “No… but the AI did. The truth was, if I’d taken the numbers the first time, or the second time—or the tenth time for that matter, we would have ended up right here.”

  “The AI is compromised,” I said. “It’s programmed to take us right here.”

  “Yes, we’ve discussed this before.”

  “But it’s conclusive now—can she hear us?” I said, looking around at the dim-lit walls of chamber.

  “No. I took the precaution of banning the AI cameras and sensors from this deck.”

  “Well done. I’ll do the same on the bridge. What do we do now?”

  He shrugged. “We form a rift, fly through it, and head home. What else?”

  I thought about it. “You’ve done the math on that—without the computer?”

  “Now that I’ve compensated for these gravity-warping spheres, yes. We can go wherever we want to.”

  My lips compressed into a hard line. I felt that a hard decision was on my shoulders.

  We could bug out. We could leave Lael and her handful of phase-ships at will. They could deal with the spheres plunging down toward the ninth planet.

  I knew that option wasn’t going to leave a satisfactory feeling in my gut. Sure, the Imperials had wiped out hundreds of our worlds. Why shouldn’t we do the same to them when we got the chance?

  But still, I was having a hard time with the concept of killing a planet full of civilians. Lael’s ships—they weren’t going to be able to destroy this swarm. They just didn’t have the firepower, or the numbers.

  The Nomads had used me. They’d used me as a tool to strike a hard blow, probably a deadly one, against an Imperial world. What’s more, they knew Earth would be blamed for the attack, not just them.

  We’d been manipulated. We’d been tricked into playing the part of an ally, rather than the safer role of the bystander. We were being dragged back into this war on their side.

  With every passing second I spent thinking about it, I became increasingly pissed off.

  =41=

  Abrams had gone back to his work. After a few minutes he turned to find me still standing behind him, and I was still cursing under my breath.

  “Godwin, you alien prick…” I said to no one in particular.

  Abrams gave me a crooked smile. “It is difficult to accept the fact one has been played, is it not, Blake? On a number of occasions, I’ve felt the same way you do right now.”

  “I bet you have,” I admitted.

  “You may not realize this,” he continued, “but I pride myself on my intellect.”

  I almost choked, but I managed to change it into a cough. “You don’t say, Doc?”

  “Yes, it’s true. It is a sin, you know—pride, I mean. The Christians would call it the greatest of all sins.”

  I nodded, only half-listening. Most of my mind was focused on a heavy decision. Should I let the Nomads destroy Diva, or should I try to stop them?

  “Pride leads to downfalls. I would only give you one word of advice: don’t let pride be your guiding light.”

  With that, he turned back to his box and continued toying with it.

  “That’s real helpful, Doc,” I told him, approaching his box. “What are you doing with this thing now, anyway?”

  “Idle foolishness,” he said without looking at me. “Do not be concerned.”

  My frown shifted. When Dr. Abrams told you to calm down, it was generally way past time to panic.

  “Hmm…” I said, examining his work. “Why not just put the damned thing on your head and activate it?”

  “I value my brain more highly than you do, apparently.”

  “That might be true…” I admitted. “Tell me, what are the most likely effects one would suffer?”

  He looked at me speculatively. “Your recent memory may vanish.”

  I nodded. “I know about that one. What else?”

  “You might die.”

  “Die? That’s it? You just fall over dead?”

  “No, not exactly. You would become a puddle of strange chemicals on the deck.”

  We stared at each other for a second. Suddenly, I was beginning to get what he was saying. “You think this thing—this circlet of metal—is how the Nomad comes and goes? What evidence do you have of that?”

  He shrugged. “There must be a way. There must be a receiver. The technology is very advanced, but even a fusion reaction needs a generator to contain it. I know he used our transmat system on a number of occasions. More recently, when he visited us repeatedly—including on this vessel—there was no transmat available.”

  I stared into the glove box. The power that gleaming circle of metal might have—it was amazing.

  “Why are you telling me this now?” I asked him, suddenly suspicious.

  “It was something you said. About not caring too much about your brain.”

  I looked at him, aghast. “You want me to put it on and test it, don’t you?”

  “I did not say that. What you suggest would be a reckless act.”

  “Damned straight it would…”

  “But…” he continued, “it would be highly revealing. I’ve done everything I can without a human subject.”

  “Why not try a housecat or something?”

  He didn’t say anything. I looked at him accusingly. “You already tried it, didn’t you?”

  “Non-human subjects have been fruitless. Possibly, it will not work at all for anything other than Nomads. We just don’t know.”

  “But you still want me to try it. Why not one of your lab coats? You seem to have plenty.”

  “They have proven disloyal in this instance.”

  I chuckled. “You mean they told you to fuck off and try it yourself, right?”

  “That is a crude representation—but essentially accurate.”

  “Hmm…” I said. “I’m the captain. I can’t risk my life. To do so would be irresponsible.”

  “Good point,” he said smoothly. “Perhaps you could find a voluntee
r among the crew. Surely, they can’t all be worthy of their keep.”

  “Wow, you are an ice-cold prick, you know that, Doc?”

  “Again with the pointless insults. I’m a man of science. Without me, you would not be standing on this deck. You would not be making these decisions. Earth would have no ships to send into space at all.”

  “Yeah, yeah… you and some sneaky aliens are owed a great deal. But that doesn’t change what you are.”

  He fell silent, and I stared at the circlet. At last, I sighed. “I can’t do it now—probably never. I’ve got critical decisions to make. Help me make the right calls, Doc. What would you do?”

  “About the swarm and the Imperials? That’s an easy one. Fall back from the swarm a little. When they get close to the ninth planet, form a rift and jump back to Earth. With thousands of bombs zeroing in on their world, the enemy will not have time to worry about us.”

  I shook my head. “That’s some cold shit.”

  He shrugged. “They are the enemy. They will not rest until they’re tired of killing us. Perhaps, if we kill a few of them now, some of their bloodlust will drain from them.”

  Leaving Abrams behind, I walked back to the tubes. I was more disturbed and uncertain than ever. What was the right move to make? I didn’t feel certain about any of my options. Abrams’ advice was sterile and horrid—but he was right. The Imperials had killed countless Rebel Kher. Had the situation been reversed, they probably would’ve slaughtered every human on Earth without a qualm.

  But being a human, I was plagued by doubts and worse—hopes. I dared hope for a real peace, for an end of hunting parties coming out of the Empire to wantonly destroy lesser civilizations.

  When mercy was shown, it could sometimes change the nature of a relationship between peoples. Perhaps this could be a new beginning…

  There was more to my thinking than that, of course. There was the other side of the equation, the negative side. If Earth was seen by the Imperials as hostile, we were more likely to be targeted the next time they came to our stars for adventure and sport. But if we’d done them a good turn, well… maybe they could be convinced to go elsewhere.

  Even that solution was grim to contemplate. We’d be hiding, ducking low, hoping the bear ate the next guy. Was that really all we could do?

  The situation was maddening.

  I was so lost in thought I didn’t even notice a huddled shape at my feet. I almost stumbled over the body of Lt. Rousseau. She was motionless, stretched out on the deck in an empty passageway.

  =42=

  Immediately, I knelt to check Lt. Rousseau’s vitals. Her heart was still beating. There were four matching red lines on her face, and they told me the story: She’d been attacked.

  Drawing my weapon, I looked around. The passage was quiet.

  Kneeling again, I tried to rouse the lieutenant.

  “Sarah?” I said softly. “Are you all right?”

  It was the classic, inane question people always asked when they found someone who’d been knocked flat. Obviously, she was not all right.

  She rolled onto her back and moaned softly. Her hand came up, pressing her wrist to her cheek. It came away bloody, and she looked at the blood with bleary eyes.

  “Captain?” she said.

  “I’m sorry about this,” I said. “I should have seen it coming…”

  “It was Mia,” she said, still looking dazed. “She attacked me… She told me I had to be—to be your second girl. I didn’t understand what the hell she was talking about, and she became angry.”

  I nodded. “Right… So she hit you harder?”

  “That’s right. My confusion threw her into a rage.”

  I heaved a sigh. “She’s not human. Sometimes I forget that.”

  Lt. Rousseau lifted herself up on her elbows. I tried to help her, but she pushed me away.

  “I’m not going to be your sex-slave,” she growled.

  “I wouldn’t suggest it.”

  “Especially not with that fuzzy bitch of yours around…”

  That comment made my eyebrows rise speculatively. Was she saying that she might be interested in the post if Mia wasn’t involved? I decided this would be a bad time to ask for a clarification.

  Trying not to admire her form as she got to her feet, I apologized again and told her I’d discipline Mia for this.

  “No,” she said. “That wouldn’t be right. She’s Rebel Kher. We’re effectively at war with the Imperials again. Like it or not, getting brained by a rival is part of the game now, right? You said we had to get used to this sort of thing, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah… but… where are you going?”

  “To the gym. She’s not going to sucker punch me like that again.”

  Lt. Rousseau stalked off, and I watched her go. Sometimes, I felt like I missed human women. This was one of those times. Mia was fantastic, but… she caused problems. She was different.

  “That one cannot be first girl!”

  Whirling around, I saw Mia standing in the passage behind me. She was better at sneaking around than any human I knew of. I guess that was part of her heritage.

  “Dammit, Mia. You can’t go around attacking bridge officers out of jealously.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said so, and I’m the captain of this ship.”

  She pouted for a moment. “I will not be second girl,” she repeated. “Never again. I will fight for my position.”

  “Mia, you’re not going to have to share me with anyone. That’s not expected of you. I’ve explained this before. Human males—”

  “Human males are just like Ral males,” she finished for me. “You’re Kher underneath. Kher males all have the same instincts. Don’t lie! I’ve been watching you. I’m always watching you.”

  “That’s not—”

  “You called her Sarah. When you touched her—you called her Sarah. That is a term of endearment for that one.”

  “It’s her first name.”

  “Right. But you never call Dalton by his first name. When have you ever touched his cheek gently, as if caressing an infant?”

  “Well… but…”

  “So don’t lie! Ral has a different ratio of males to females, but the game is the same. I just want you to know that I will not be second-girl. I would return to Ral first. If you take her, and I am still first-girl, I can accept that—but I will not be happy. I will mark her face whenever I want to, just as I’ve done today. That is my right.”

  After this little speech, she marched off as well. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just watched her stalk away. At least she’d gone in the opposite direction that Sarah had chosen. I didn’t think this would be a good time for these two to meet up again.

  Sarah...

  Mia was right. I was using Lt. Rousseau’s first name in my thoughts now. I felt something for the girl, and she felt the same way about me. I’d often noticed there was a certain light in her eyes when we looked at one another.

  Heaving a deep sigh, I pushed all these distractions from my mind and headed toward the bridge again. I told myself firmly that my personal life would have to take a backseat. I had much bigger problems to deal with.

  Reaching the bridge, I pondered my immediate problem. The swarm of gravity-drones still surrounded us, and together we were plunging toward the ninth planet like a pack of gleeful hounds. The drones clearly meant to destroy the target world.

  There were a few options I could think of. I could fall back, as Abrams had suggested, and try to escape. If we timed that move to coincide with the final approach of the drones, the Imperials would be too busy trying to save themselves to worry about one human ship full of cowards.

  We had four hours left, so I decided to try another more palatable option: diplomacy. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try to talk to the Imperials again.

  “Lael,” I said, transmitting in the clear. “We have to discuss the fate of the local Imperial world.”

  There was a hesitation,
but it was less than a minute long. I’d been just about to repeat my words when she answered me.

  Lael looked harried and angry. Her voice tones matched her appearance.

  “You…” she said, spitting out the word. “Why do you insist on gloating like this? Isn’t a billion deaths enough to sate your lust for glory?”

  “What…? Hold on, it’s not like that. I’m trying to figure out a way to get out of this situation.”

  “Ah… the blood-bargaining. My staff has been wondering if you’d try some last minute extortion before the final moments. Apparently, the more pessimistic members of my crew were right.”

  “No, they weren’t,” I said firmly. “I’m just contacting you to let you know I’ll help if I can.”

  “Help? How might you help?”

  “I don’t know… maybe we could divert the spheres before it’s too late.”

  “Divert? All you need to do is change course. They follow you like their mother.”

  I shook my head. “It looks that way, but that isn’t what’s happening. The spheres—”

  “They are protecting you! They do not strike you, even while you are in their midst. Don’t pretend and lie, Leo Blake. I know you. I know you are in an alliance with the Nomads.”

  “We were used,” I said patiently. “These spheres struck a Terrapinian ship we were flying with before they forced us to come here.”

  “What do you mean, forced you?”

  “We had to create a rift to escape. Our navigation was compromised, and we ended up here.”

  “Why would the Nomads bother with such a complex plan?”

  “Well, they needed my ship to open the rift for them to begin with. The spheres can’t jump between the stars on their own.”

  “All right,” Lael said in a purring voice. Her tone had shifted dramatically, and that put me instantly on edge. “Let’s say I believe you. Let’s try an experiment. Fall back from your little friends. Let them move away from you, and you’ll have proven your words.”

  She had a good point. How could we work together if I couldn’t demonstrate I wasn’t in control of the swarm?