Empires in Ruin

by Anthony James

  The only thing missing was a handrail.

  Approaching the steps, Recker took a deep breath. Each tread was a metre wide, but very shallow and he considered turning so that he could descend backwards.

  Movement in the sky east caught his attention and he spun towards it. A transport had come from nowhere and it flew across the plating at a slight angle which suggested the vessel was damaged or its pilot an incompetent.

  “Shit, it’s going to hit us,” said Private Drawl.

  The shuttle didn’t collide with the squad, though its landing was far from perfect. Its legs hit the Aeklu’s plating and, still moving, the vessel scraped its way to a juddering halt fifty metres away.

  “What the hell?” asked Recker, irritated by a combination of the shuttle’s arrival and the treacherous steps he was about to climb. “Sergeant Vance, find out who’s in that shuttle and chew their ear.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Vance hadn’t made it more than a handful of steps when the transport’s side door opened and a figure jumped heavily to the ground.

  “Lieutenant Eastwood reporting for duty, sir. I thought you might need some assistance.”

  “Damn right we do, Lieutenant. And when this is all over, maybe I’ll teach you how to fly a shuttle.”

  Feeling suddenly much better about the situation, Recker descended the steps without giving them any more thought. The Lavorix had installed an airlift all the way through the armour and it was accessed from the platform. A thump of his palm on the security panel called the car from the depths below. Instead of watching the closed door, Recker offered his hand to Aston as she followed him down. Then came Larson, Burner and last member of his crew, Eastwood.

  “Good to see you again, Lieutenant,” said Recker, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

  Eastwood’s face was even more lined than usual, though he otherwise appeared in good health. “I didn’t think I was going to make it, sir. Not after that last Extractor and not after all those Lavorix troops started dropping from the sky.”

  “A story for later,” said Recker. An image of an ice-cold beer appeared in his head from out of nowhere and he felt pangs of longing. “We’ll make time – I promise.”

  The lift arrived and the door opened to reveal a car large enough to accommodate the entire platoon. Recker hurried inside while the soldiers descended the steps. Having gone through so much crap, first in the Daklan war and now in this war against the Lavorix, nobody wanted to die falling off the Aeklu’s steps, and the platoon took extra care. Fully understanding, Recker kept his mouth closed and allowed them the time they needed.

  “That’s everyone in,” Vance announced.

  Recker was at the panel near the door and he selected the lowest level. He felt the surge of acceleration as the airlift’s gravity field propelled the car towards its destination. Despite the technicians being ahead of schedule, he knew there was plenty to do and he hoped they’d pulled off a few miracles to make the spaceship flight capable.

  The lift stopped and the door opened onto darkness. It wasn’t a good sign.

  “Where’s the light switch?” asked Private Raimi.

  Turning on his helmet torch, Recker stepped into the corridor and listened. Creaks of flexing metal came from everywhere, the ebb and flow of the sounds making him think of an ancient wooden ship sailing the wide oceans of planet Earth. He didn’t know if the Aeklu had always been like this, or if the detonation of the Dark Bomb and the shipyard’s imperfect reconstruction had affected its structural rigidity in a way which couldn’t have been predicted.

  Underlying everything was the angry note of its propulsion. To Recker’s ear, it sounded lumpy and coarse, yet he knew exactly what the Aeklu was capable of. The warship’s ternium drive output exceeded the combined output of every vessel in the HPA fleet.

  The admiration Recker felt was tempered by his knowledge of how the Lavorix had used the Aeklu to murder and destroy. He was sure the Meklon were not the first species made extinct by this massive spaceship and the other five Laws of Ancidium, though he was determined they’d be the last.

  “It stinks of Lavorix,” said Private Carrington, emerging from the lift and making a few exaggerated sniffing noises.

  The Aeklu did have a distinctive smell and, though Recker knew it was impossible, it was as though the alloys had become impregnated with the scents of its former masters. He drew in the odours through his helmet filter and wrinkled his nose. A staleness permeated the Aeklu, as if it were constructed ten thousand years ago and had overseen the lives and deaths of five hundred generations of Lavorix as they hunted through the universe for life energy to charge the Ancidium for war.

  “I don’t like it,” said Drawl. He tapped his gauss rifle against one of the walls. “Feels like we’re only borrowing this ship from its real owners.”

  “The Lavorix are going to have to come through you if they want it back, right, Private?” said Recker.

  “Hell yes, sir. I’ll put a bullet through every alien bastard – present company excepted – who even thinks about setting foot onboard.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” said Recker.

  “Which way to the bridge, sir?” asked Corporal Nelle Montero.

  The pause outside the lift hadn’t been more than a few seconds and Recker was glad of it since he’d forgotten the way. Now Montero had asked the question.

  “I’m checking the map, Corporal.” Recker told everyone the truth. “This is the first time I’ve been inside the Aeklu,” he said.

  “I thought the HPA would have…” said Raimi.

  “It was less than two hours ago that I was given the command,” said Recker.

  “Damn,” said Private Hunter Gantry. “So how did you know the way in?”

  “Plans and schematics, Private,” said Recker.

  “What are our precise goals here on the Aeklu?” asked the broad figure of Sergeant Shadar.

  “This is a reactive mission, Sergeant. It’s possible a bunch of Lavorix soldiers made it inside, so we’re going to secure the bridge.” Recker took a deep breath. “We drove away that new Law of Ancidium but lost most of our fleet in the process. If they come back, we’ll be in the shit.”

  “The enemy will not permit the Aeklu or the Verumol to fall into the wrong hands,” said the Daklan.

  Despite Shadar’s comparatively lowly rank, he possessed a high degree of insight into many things, and in this, the Daklan reflected Recker’s own thoughts.

  “Whatever happens, the enemy won’t let us have these spaceships,” Recker agreed. “And whatever happens, we can’t let them be recaptured.”

  “The fight will continue until one side or the other loses,” said Shadar.

  Deep down, Recker had known this would be the case from the first moment he heard about the enemy capital ship’s arrival in the WDE421-3T system. The Laws of Ancidium were too potent to let go and too much of a threat for the Lavorix to leave in the hands of the HPA and the Daklan.

  “Come on,” said Recker, indicating in the direction of the warship’s nose.

  He set off, his mind working overtime as it tried to predict the coming minutes and hours.

  Chapter Eleven

  The interior of the Aeklu wasn’t much different to any other warship Recker had commanded. While the passage along which he led his platoon was wide enough for three soldiers to pass, and with a ceiling high enough for the Daklan, many of the side corridors were single file only.

  They came to no doors and saw no sign of technology. No glowing panels were fixed to the walls and there were no console stations to monitor the underlying health of the hardware modules. In this, the Aeklu was the same as every warship in the HPA fleet, though on a monstrously larger scale.

  From his discussions with the shipyard workers and the plans they’d drawn up of the interior, Recker had learned that the Aeklu was more or less solid ternium, with room to transport far fewer Lavorix than one might have imagined given the overall size of
the vessel.

  This solidity gave the spaceship an estimated mass of 2.5 trillion tons – a figure enormously greater than anything produced by the HPA, anything planned by the HPA and anything which the HPA military would likely have ever conceived of building. Yet here it was, sitting in a construction yard in defiance of all logic which said such a warship could never be created.

  And still, after ten months of extensive investigation and exploration, nobody knew where several of the main hardware modules were located, even though the reconstruction involved tying in the HPA control systems. How they planned to get everything talking, Recker had no idea and he could only hope the technicians had figured things out.

  “I’ve patched into the internal comms,” said Burner. “The lights may be out, but at least the comms are working. Some of the comms, anyway. I’ll run a full audit once we reach the bridge.”

  “Is anyone else patched in?” asked Recker, wondering uncharitably if all the technicians had run for cover when the enemy arrived.

  “I can’t find any receptors, sir,” said Burner. “However, my suit comms won’t allow me to locate private connections to the network.”

  “Aren’t they supposed to be refitting this ship with HPA kit?” asked Private Steigers. “I haven’t seen any sign of the work.”

  “The new control hardware goes on the bridge. The tie-in work happens throughout the interior,” said Recker. He spoke the words confidently, to hide his concern. Maybe the shipyard’s progress wasn’t so advanced as he’d been led to believe.

  They came to a flight of steps which led to the bridge doors and Recker heard retreating footsteps from the top. Instantly, the soldiers were ready.

  “That wasn’t Lavorix,” Recker growled. “This is Captain Recker!” he shouted through his helmet’s chin speaker. “Show yourself!”

  “Captain Recker?” came the uncertain reply. “I’m Lois Roy – one of the lead technicians assigned to the Aeklu.”

  “We’re coming up,” said Recker, not in the mood to parley from the bottom of the steps.

  “Okay. Good,” said Roy.

  Recker ascended twenty steps to a four-metre landing space. Ahead, twin protective blast doors had partially retracted into their recesses. A wall panel dangled from a hole in the wall and a silvery cable disappeared into the opening. Someone had plugged a handheld device into the panel and left it on the floor nearby. The tablet’s screen was on, suggesting it had been abandoned in a hurry.

  One of the shipyard technicians poked a head cautiously around the edge of the doorway and then emerged.

  “Captain Recker.” It was Roy by her voice. She was younger than he expected, or maybe he was just getting old.

  “You’re aware what’s happening outside?” asked Recker.

  “Yes, sir. We didn’t receive orders to leave, so we stayed put.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I think maybe some of the other guys took their chances out in the construction yard.”

  Recker cut to the chase. “I’m about to fly this warship out of its trench, LT Roy. What works and what doesn’t?”

  “I don’t know how to make the answer straightforward, sir.”

  “Try.” Recker brushed past and onto the Aeklu’s bridge, where two other technicians were busy studying readouts from handheld diagnostic equipment.

  He absorbed the details – the bridge was a rectangular area, about ten metres by six, which made it rather more compact than Recker had imagined. A feeling of age and emptiness clung to the place and it made his head swim.

  So much death.

  Clearing his head, he looked around. The shipyard had installed a total of ten standard warship control consoles and four others were lined up against the left-hand wall, awaiting connection to cables which protruded from holes in the floor. A multitude of screens covered the forward bulkhead, every one of them blank.

  The last of the old Lavorix hardware had been removed days ago, though Recker saw a few sheets of alloy housing on the floor near the right hand wall, which looked suspiciously like they’d been cut up with a good old-fashioned angle grinder.

  “It’s been flight capable for weeks, sir – that was the priority fix,” said Roy, hurrying after Recker as he walked towards the command console. “All the other stuff…” she waved vaguely at the consoles and the holes in the floor, “…that’s what takes the time.”

  Recker turned and gestured at his crew, indicating they should find their stations. “So what you’re telling me - without telling me - is that you don’t know what works and what doesn’t.” Recker arrived at the command console, which was front and middle of the bridge. He leaned over the seat and studied the console screens. The lines of data on each one indicated the console was in diagnostic mode.

  “Yes, sir,” said Roy. “Getting something like the Aeklu working isn’t the same as plugging in a cable and…”

  “I know,” said Recker, not unsympathetically. He’d been around warships long enough to have learned plenty about the construction process. “You have installation and tie-in plans that ensure nothing is overlooked and after that comes the configuration and testing.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Roy, evidently relieved that she wasn’t about to be reprimanded for simply doing her job.

  Recker turned her way and noticed the tiredness in her features that even the Frenziol couldn’t hide. She’d probably been working twelve hour shifts for months.

  “The enemy capital ship has left Trinus-XN,” he said. “One way or another, they’ll be back and the Aeklu is one of only two ships capable of facing them.”

  Roy shuffled her feet. “What you see on the bridge is the last of the physical work. We’ve had a few teams working on configuration, but the testing hasn’t started.”

  “There’s been no testing whatsoever?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, damn. I thought configuration and testing went hand in hand?”

  “Not on the Aeklu, sir. We were instructed to put off the testing until last.” Roy attempted a smile. “Every technician has at least ten years of experience, sir.”

  Recker wanted to swear, but it wouldn’t have done much good. He tried to see the positives. “A skilled technician should get the configuration right first time, every time.”

  “Yes, sir.” Roy’s face told the story.

  “Let’s pretend the testing is finished, Lead Technician Roy.”

  “There’s three of us here on the bridge, sir, and another five teams scattered around the Aeklu. I can order them to move straight onto testing.”

  Recker took the command seat and switched the console into an operational state. He linked his suit computer to the HPA hardware and fed in the command codes Telar had provided earlier. Those codes were sent to the Lavorix backend systems and that, in theory, was enough to allow him control over the warship. He looked once more at the waiting LT Roy.

  “This ship is coming out of its trench as soon as my crew and I are ready. I’d guess you have less than ten minutes.”

  “That won’t be enough, sir.”

  “I know. If you can fix the bridge door so that it closes, I’d appreciate it.”

  “What about these other four consoles?” asked Roy, pointing towards the equipment awaiting installation. “I was about to summon one of the lifter bots and have it drop them into position.”

  “You’re out of time,” said Recker. “Besides, I don’t have enough crew to fill the existing stations.” Aston had taken the adjacent station and he turned to make sure the others were seated. They were.

  Roy didn’t leave and Recker guessed she was waiting for him to spell everything out for her. He obliged, though his patience was rapidly running out. “Speak to the other teams and let them know I don’t want them pissing about switching the hardware into different states while I’m flying the damned spaceship. After that, fix the door and keep out of the way.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll do that.” Roy hastened off and Recker forgot about her at once.

&nb
sp; “Are you online, Commander?” he asked.

  “Everything seems to be tied in, sir,” Aston replied. “I’ve got links to the weapons systems.”

  “Any failures?”

  “Amber lights on several gauss repeaters, amber lights on several of the missile clusters, amber lights on all of the particle beams, incendiaries available for deployment, tenixite converter available to fire a depletion burst, but showing a red on anything other than the lowest setting.”

  “The Lavorix used up most of the Aeklu’s supplies of ternium ore before we captured the ship,” said Recker. “The bay holds a few million tons and it was in the plans to bring some more onboard, but that was last on the list. What about the topside gun?”

  “The big one,” said Aston. “The backend weapons system name it the Toll, and there’s a red light on it.” She smiled. “But the targeting and activation facilities are available anyway.”

  “Expect to see a lot more inconsistencies like that one, Commander.”

  “Just what we need in battle.” Aston shrugged and continued her pre-flight routines.

  “The shipyard checked out the magazine for that main armament,” said Eastwood. “We’re carrying eleven projectiles and they’re ternium-accelerated like the ones on the Tri-Cannon. Except these ones have a mass of 1.96 billion tons.”

  Everything about the Laws of Ancidium was on a colossal scale and Recker could only nod at the figures and be grateful he was no longer on the receiving end of those slugs. He put the gun from his mind for the moment – the flight preparations couldn’t wait.

  “Lieutenant Burner, we’re waiting for those sensors,” said Recker.

  “Yes, sir, they’ll be online in a moment. Someone got a few wires crossed and the menu for the topside arrays accesses the data analysis tools instead. It’s taking a few moments to unravel.”