The Star Wizard

by Benjamin Douglas

  “Shhh!” Gavin pet the gun. “Don’t listen to the mean boy, girl. He doesn’t know.”

  They all took extra chargers and jogged back into the corridor.

  “Where’s Kepple?” Gavin asked.

  “Dunno,” Van said. “Shuttle?”

  “Nah,” Bryan said. “Probably still on the bridge. Man doesn’t know guns, but he’s no coward.”

  “Hmm. Shall we head down to the lower decks, see if we can pick a few of them off her belly?”

  Van stopped, her hand moving up to her earpiece. She shook her head. “We’ve been summoned. Bridge.”

  Gavin sighed. Oh, well. Sooner or later he’d be forced to see action today. He knew these drones.

  They didn’t take no for an answer.

  ---

  “Cease your attack! Callsign god-maker initiated! Cease your attack at once! Repeat: cease your attack!” Kepple was barking into his comm. God-maker? Must be trying to trigger an override in the drones, Gavin reasoned.

  Good luck.

  Kepple spun on his heel. “Ah! Dolridge, I need you. We’ve got company.”

  “More, Sir?”

  “Ha. Ha. Yes, a ship has just popped up, scans are failing to identify but she looks like a heavily modded Fleet battleship. I’ve got a pretty good guess at who she might be, and if I’m right, you’re going to want to be here to liaise.”

  The deck rocked from an explosion, and Kepple cursed. “What was that?”

  “Just lost another deck, Sir,” Smith said. “Seven is completely gone, open to space.”

  “Bulkheads on eight?”

  “Sealed, Sir.”

  Kepple squinted at the viewscreen. “She’d better come in shooting,” he muttered.

  She did.

  A flash of light, and a tiny shower of detritus flew passed the front cam. Tactical showed one of the many tiny red blips wink out.

  “Was that one of theirs?” Kepple barked.

  “Aye, Sir!” Smith said. “Incoming vessel took it out!”

  “Can we see her?” Gavin asked.

  Kepple nodded, and Smith pulled up a magnified image of the ship. He immediately saw what Kepple meant. She had turrets sprouting out from around her turrets. They didn’t look like blasting guns. Kinetics? She got another volley off, as if to clarify. Gavin grinned at the sight of the heavy artillery zipping out into space and wiping out another drone.

  “She almost looks familiar,” he said.

  “I thought the same.” Kepple fiddled with his console and opened a ship-to-ship livefeed. “Unidentified ship, who do we have to thank for your assistance?”

  The viewscreen flashed static for a moment, then coalesced into the image of a bridge only slightly less chaotic than the one on which Gavin stood. He did not know that man in the command chair, though he seemed familiar. He certainly was young to be sitting there.

  “This is Captain Lucas Odin and the Kuiper Fleet Starship Fairfax. Good to be home. Let’s see what we can do to pick some of these things off your back.”

  Kepple heaved a sigh of relief. “We’d appreciate that, Fairfax.”

  Gavin’s eyes scanned the screen and fell upon a familiar face. She was leaning back in her chair, a joystick gripped tight in both hands, her eyes focused on her readouts. He only barely kept himself from blurting out her name. Now was not the time to distract Lieutenant Caspar.

  He did laugh quietly at the irony, though. He’d come out here in the first place to warn her that the Council was coming for her. Now, after days of resigning himself to the fact he would die long before he could reach her, they had found each other, but were both about to be killed by the same enemy they had last faced together.

  Bitter irony.

  “Flint,” Kepple said, “why aren’t we taking some of these things out?”

  The gunner raised his hands, exasperated. “I’m trying, Sir! Blasting guns seem useless, and you know the kinetics on this girl are impossible!”

  “Why’s that?”

  “They’re just… just… old, and barely maneuverable, and—”

  “Agent Dolridge,” Kepple said. “You have experience with old kinetics?”

  Gavin suppressed a smirk. “Sir.”

  Flint rose to his feet, huffing. “Be my guest.”

  “I’ll do my best.” It had been a long time since he’d sat at a gunning station. He unfasted Stella’s harness, set her down on the deck beside the chair, and settled in. The controls hummed to life under his hands, and he smiled. Not too long, he hoped.

  “Kinetics are under submenu C,” Flint said, pointing at the console.

  “Thanks.” He armed the heaviest artillery he could find.

  “Geez,” Flint said, “you won’t be able to swing those around at all! Might want to start with something a little lighter. Not that you have many options. I recommend the—”

  Gavin blocked him out, taking his time to line up his targeting with a piece of empty space off the bow. A strand of the swarm was filing past at regular intervals. He began counting, feeling his finger itching at the trigger.

  “—but if you really need the power, you should still downgrade at least to a—”

  He squeezed.

  The force of the shot almost rocked them for just a fraction of a second. Gavin smiled, watching the kinetic round speed away. It found its target. One of the drones in the strand fell out of line, taking another with it in a tiny explosion.

  “Yes!” Kepple roared. “Again!”

  Flint fell silent.

  The stream adjusted, the drones fell into a new pattern, and Gavin had to recalculate. He didn’t mind. This was what he lived for. He took a deep breath and held it, counting the new intervals. This was his sort of puzzle.

  Another shot, another explosion, another drone down.

  “That’s some fancy shooting,” Odin said over the comm. “I don’t suppose you’d care to target the drones that have noticed our own?”

  Gavin glanced at tactical and saw that a small squadron of drones had broken off from the swarm and were heading toward the Fairfax. He entered commands for the guns to come around and track them, and groaned. Flint had been right about their maneuverability. Slowly, painfully slowly, the heavies began creaking around to face the Fairfax.

  “Sir,” Gavin said, “can you bring us about? I can’t get the shot from here.”

  “Smith?” Kepple asked.

  “Engines at half-power and falling, Sir.”

  “Make it happen!”

  “Sir.”

  The ship began angling toward the Fairfax. Gavin began targeting and counting intervals. One thing to be thankful for, he supposed—their AI may mean they adapted quickly, but they weren’t as erratic and unpredictable as a human foe. He found the pattern, held his breath, and squeezed the trigger.

  And missed.

  “Dammit,” he growled.

  “Sir?” Smith said. “They’re massing for another attack!”

  The words were barely out of his mouth when the swarm descended on them again—this time not for their lower decks, but for their guns.

  Chapter 13

  “Caspar…?”

  Lucas fought to keep the edge of panic from his voice. On the viewscreen, they saw that three of the incoming bogeys were down now—two from Caspar’s guns, one from the Councilman’s ship. But three more were still incoming, and closing the gap at a frightening speed.

  Caspar growled as she strafed open space with medium kinetics, shooting wide. “Mediums aren’t handling well, Sir! Getting low on heavies, though!”

  “Moses,” Lucas said, “can anything be done to increase our medium gun efficiency.”

  Beep. “Yes, Sir. You can let me shoot.”

  Caspar guffawed. “Is he serious?”

  Lucas frowned. It had never come up, because most ships didn’t keep a true AI running on the computer. “Can you do that?” he asked.

  “Certainly. Permission to target incoming drones.”

  “Granted!”


  It was over in a whir of shots and flashes. Moses took out the three remaining drones in seconds, all with the mediums. Caspar tossed up her hands. “Well, I’m out of a job.”

  “We’ll get you a pension,” Lucas said, his eyes still on the empty space where the drones had been a moment before. “Moses, can you take out the whole swarm?”

  “Insufficient munitions aboard. I could potentially do significant damage with missiles, but not at this time without risk of destroying the other ship.”

  “Hmph.”

  “Fairfax?” The Councilman’s voice was tense over the comm. “We could use a little more help, here.”

  “Steady as she goes, Randall.” Lucas scratch an itch on his neck. “Moses, I want you to target and pick off the drones you assess to be doing the greatest damage. Lieutenant, the heavies are yours.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  They came in with guns blazing.

  The first salvo was a thing of beauty. Drones winked out left and right, and the cam view lit up like a masterpiece of fiery death. The next salvo was almost as good. They may not have had enough bullets onboard to take out every last drone, but they had enough to put Hive in its place. Or so Lucas hoped.

  By the third salvo, however, the efficiency of their attack began to diminish. “What’s going on?” Lucas barked.

  Beep. “Hive is employing Hive’s advanced learning capabilities and adapting to our tactics, Captain.”

  “Then switch up tactics,” he said. “Moses, Caspar, flip-flop. Moses, take the heavies. Caspar, back to mediums.”

  “Sir!”

  The fourth salvo showed some improvement, but still wasn’t back to the stunning success of the first two. Lucas frowned. He couldn’t win a battle of attrition with diminishing returns. They’d simply outfly him until Fairfax was out of bullets.

  They’d gotten off their fifth attack when the first of the drones got to their shielding. That slowed them down just a little—Rome had fortified that, too—but Lucas had seen these drones shred other ships like cheese. He didn’t hold out much hope that they would be put off indefinitely.

  “Moses, what’s going on down there?”

  Beep. “Two drones have attached themselves to the ship outside of engineering, and are currently attempting to penetrate the hull with high-energy particle beams.”

  Lucas’ eyebrows raised. “Lasers?”

  “Sir!” Caspar called over her shoulder. “I’ve seen this before. If they get in, they’ll space us or gas us, incapacitate us somehow and kill us all. Permission to set off an EMP.”

  “But that will take our guns offline, Lieutenant, and we don’t have the kind of juice to take out the whole swarm with one pulse.”

  She cursed under her breath. He was right.

  “Moses,” Ada said, “are the ship’s wireless relays near the drones’ current location?”

  Lucas spun, remembering she was there.

  “They are.”

  She looked at him. “We could localize a pulse on the hull itself. Take guns offline for a minute, they should be alright.”

  “Electrify the hull?”

  “And you electrify the drones.”

  “Moses?” Lucas said. “Do it!”

  “Sir!” Caspar protested.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. You’ll just have to be toothless for sixty seconds.”

  “That’s a long time to be unable to defend ourselves.”

  The guns went silent, and a brief flash lit up the viewscreen. It went dark immediately after. Then, seconds later, the cam view came back online.

  “I have sent a pulse from the relays to the hull,” Moses announced. “It appears to have rendered the two drones inoperative.”

  Lucas heaved a sigh of relief. “How long till guns are back?”

  “Approximately thirty seconds.”

  They sat in silence, counting the ticks in their minds. Randall kept them arcing in a wide semi-circle around the Councilman’s ship and the swarm. Close enough to come in shooting when the guns came back; far enough, hopefully, to evade attack until then.

  There were still twenty seconds left when the swarm’s formation mutated, a huge bulge of drones bubbling up and breaking away from the Councilman’s ship. Breaking for the Fairfax.

  Lucas cursed loudly.

  “Ten seconds till guns are online,” Moses said.

  “ETA for the enemy?”

  “Five. Four. Three.”

  “ALL HANDS, BRACE!” Lucas yelled. His hands gripped the sides of the chair till they were so tight they cramped.

  Then, all in an instant, the drones stopped. They came to a complete halt mere meters from the hull of the Fairfax. As one, they rotated, facing away from the ship, and sped back to join the swarm. The swarm regrouped and shot off into space, leaving the Fairfax and the wrecked ship behind.

  Lucas let out the breath he’d been holding.

  “What…?”

  “Sir, I’ve intercepted something,” Ada said from the comm station.

  “Livefeed?”

  “No, no… it’s a much narrower transmission. And the data, it isn’t… well, it’s just code, I think.”

  “On-screen.”

  Lines of familiar-looking code populated on the viewscreen. It looked an awful lot in construction like the medical commands they had discussed earlier. Lucas frowned. “Moses, did you do this?”

  Beep. “Negative, Sir. This code came from an unverified source. It seems to have called Hive back in-system.”

  “I’ve got that other transmission cleaned up now, too.” Ada spoke as if it couldn’t possibly matter less, which, Lucas mused, was probably the case. Hive was gone—for now. It was time for search and rescue for survivors on the other ship. “I think they were just trying to call the drones off. Not sure why they thought that would work. Huh. Wonder what the callsign’s for.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  The audio crackled to life again, much clearer this time. Lucas recognized Kepple’s voice. “Cease your attack! Callsign god-maker initiated! Cease your attack at once! Repeat: cease your attack!”

  The hairs on the back of Lucas’ neck stood up. He and Caspar shared a look.

  “Wasn’t that the callsign he used to get us past the Ceres blockade?” she asked.

  He opened a ship-wide comm.

  “Private Mulligan, report to the bridge, on the double!”

  Beep. “Sir, it may interest you to know that Private Mulligan is no longer onboard the Fairfax,” Moses said.

  Lucas’ brow darkened. “Anyone else missing?”

  Beep. “Darren is also gone. They have taken Cupid.”

  Ada cursed vociferously.

  Chapter 14

  Rylea’s drones still frozen in place, the rest of the swarm came straight for their hopper. Erick cursed under his breath. It seemed to be taking all her concentration to hold the three she had. What could she do against that many more.

  Rylea frowned, then swept a hand to the side. The three drones held enthralled all exploded.

  “Rylea…?” The swarm was closing on them.

  Rylea took a deep breath through her nose, brought her hands together, and plunged them forward, as if she was diving into water. The drone swarm broke and divided, passing around on either side of the hopper. For tens of seconds, they were surrounded by the things. Then, in an instant, they were gone, all flown past and speeding back in-system. Rylea dropped her arms, opened her eyes, and flopped back in her seat.

  “Here,” Erick said, handing her a mug of water.

  “Where’d they go?” Cyclops muttered. “Girl, did you send them away?”

  She shook her head, catching her breath. Cyclops grabbed a wad of her hair and yanked her head back, snarling in rage. “Call them back! Now!”

  With a primal cry, Rylea stretched out one hand, sending Cyclops flying to smack into the back wall of the cockpit. He crumpled to the deck, coughing.

  “Leave her alone!” Erick yelled.

  It’
s fine, her mind-voice said. It sounded quiet. Weak. He can’t hurt me. Just surprised me, was all.

  I won’t let him bully you, Erick thought.

  Rylea smiled and chuckled mirthlessly, wincing.

  Cyclops pulled himself up to a sitting position on the floor. “Rylea,” he said, “I’m sorry I startled you. I’m a violent man. But you can read my thoughts. You know the cause for my concern.”

  She squinted at him a moment, then shook her head. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t send them away. I sensed something, though.”

  “What?”

  “Something… like a voice, like a man, but speaking to machines, not to men.” She sighed. “We’re too late, aren’t we?”

  Erick put the pieces together. “Is it him? The one you’re both so worried about—the reason we came out here in the first place? He has control of those things now?”

  Cyclops shrugged. “If so, we are all well and truly screwed. Huh.” He pulled out his flask. “Sure you don’t want a drink, kids? Might be one of your last chances to taste anything. All the color’s going to get sucked out of the universe by that monster.”

  Erick sat in the seat Cyclops had vacated. “What’s this?” There was an incoming feed blinking at the console. He opened it, setting to accept audio only.

  “Private Mulligan? Are you there?”

  It was a man’s voice, younger than Erick would have expected from someone in command of a ship like either of the two left behind by the drone swarm. He opened his mouth to speak, but Cyclops rose quickly, placing one hand on Erick’s shoulder and leaning over to swipe and accept video.

  The speaker appeared on the viewscreen, a young man in Captain’s stripes. He sat strapped into his command chair. When his eyes met with Cyclops’, they narrowed.

  “Good to see you, Odin,” Cyclops said with a grin.

  “Cyclops. Would that I could say the same. So you do know my name, after all?”

  Cyclops shrugged.

  “Were you the ones that called the drones off?”

  Cyclops glances at Rylea. She shook her head.

  “No,” he said, “much as I would love to claim credit for saving one of Rome’s ships, that wasn’t us.”