by Chris Fox
10
Lena
Ziplining was a new experience for Nolan, but there was something exhilarating about sailing over the strange jungle. He landed at the base of the wall next to the others—and if his landing wasn’t as graceful as Hannan’s, at least he wasn’t embarrassed.
“The beacon is sixty meters past the wall, outside whatever that structure is,” Hannan said, peering around the wall and into the courtyard.
“Movement?” Edwards asked. The big man had been quiet since Duncan’s death.
“None. The beacon is just sitting there. I don’t see any movement. It’s possible whoever set that thing has already been taken,” Hannan said. She turned to Mills, who was crouched on the other side of the gateway leading into the courtyard. “Get high, Mills. See what you can see.”
Mills nodded, then trotted down the wall until he reached a broken section. The speed with which he ascended shocked Nolan. Sure, their armor gave them an advantage, but these people were incredibly skilled. Given the 14th’s reputation, that shouldn’t have been the case.
“Edwards, advance inside. Follow the wall and keep a bead on that beacon,” Hannan ordered. She stepped inside the courtyard, sinking to one knee behind a fallen column. “That leaves the beacon for you, Commander.”
Nolan took a deep breath and walked into the courtyard. Part of him expected to be disintegrated, but nothing stirred as he approached the little metal ball. He stopped next to it, peering down at the flashing red light on the side. He reached down and picked it up.
“It’s Tigris make,” he yelled over his shoulder. “I’m guessing it belonged to a science team, given the debris we found when we first arrived in system.”
“You’re correct, human,” came a feminine voice from behind him. Nolan whirled to see a figure crouched in the shadows. He couldn’t make out much, but he spotted a golden tail swishing around her shoulder. Her accent was clipped and polished, something like human British. “I set the beacon, and I was a member of a science team dispatched to these ruins.”
“You were using us as bait,” Hannan yelled, rising from cover and stalking toward the figure.
“You’re more perceptive than I was led to believe Marines of the 14th fleet could be,” she said, finally stepping into the light. She had thick, golden fur and a well-muscled frame. Leonis Pride nobility, Nolan was certain. “I apologize for the deception, but it was a necessary one. The rest of my team has already been taken and, unless someone capable of rescue showed up, I was planning on hiding indefinitely.”
“How long have you been here?” Nolan asked. He re-holstered the pistol he’d unconsciously drawn when she’d first spoken.
“Four days,” the Tigris said, holding up a four-fingered paw. She approached slowly, her nose twitching as she crept closer. “We were researching until yesterday night, when the strangers arrived. They had three ships, and began loading in anyone they could catch. They had teams of…well, invisible soldiers. Those soldiers gathered everyone, and took them into the ships.”
“How did you escape? They seemed pretty thorough,” Hannan asked, eyes narrowed. Nolan noticed she was still gripping her rifle, as if ready to fire.
“I was blessed by Tigana,” the Tigris said. She blushed. “My team was documenting the surface ruins, and I was the only person below. We came because this place began emitting a signal just a few months ago—a signal older than should be possible, as it predates the Primo empire. We wanted to discover the source.”
“How did being underground help? Didn’t these things go inside?” Nolan asked. He knew he wasn’t getting the whole truth, though he accepted what she had said so far.
“They did,” the Tigris said. She glanced at the entrance to the structure dominating the compound. “I discovered the source of the signal. It was coming from a communications array deep inside, and it appeared to be powered by a stabilized singularity. That’s tech we’ve only seen in the Helios Gates, and I realized that it would probably mask other signals. I hid near the generator, and they never came for me. I guess it worked.”
“Do you have a name?” Nolan asked.
“Lena of Pride Leonis,” the Tigris said.
“Lena, there’s no way to soften this. Your vessel has been destroyed. We can give you a lift off this rock, if you’ll give us a full report about everything you encountered here,” Nolan offered. He didn’t really have the authority to transport her anywhere but, as she was the only viable lead, a white lie seemed acceptable.
“I’d expected as much,” she said, ears drooping. “The Revelation wasn’t built for war. I’m willing to tell you everything I know. I had a lot of friends on that vessel. I’ll do whatever I can to see that whoever is behind these attacks is brought to justice.”
“Lena,” Hannan asked, drawing the Tigris’s attention. “Did these things take anything but people?”
“Not that I saw, though they did search the ruins. I got the sense they were looking for something, though I don’t know what. I couldn’t understand their language,” Lena said, shrugging apologetically. “It’s possible they were seeking something in the ruins but, whatever it was, they didn’t find it.”
“Thanks for your candor,” Nolan said, reaching for his comm. He thumbed it. “Johnston, this is away group one. We’ve recovered a single refugee. We’re returning to the ship.”
“Holy shit,” Edwards said, drawing Nolan’s attention.
A ship broke the jungle cover in the distance. It was unlike anything Nolan had ever seen.
11
Void Wraith
Nolan snapped his visor down and set it to Record. What he was seeing was surreal. A ship easily twice the size of the Johnston hovered over the jungle, its metallic blue surface different from anything Nolan had encountered. The ship was curved, with two pincher-like wings extending from a central body, in a sort of stylized V.
“Uh, what is that thing doing?” Hannan asked. No one answered.
A deep thrum passed over them, something powerful just beyond the edge of hearing. Then a small blue light formed between the wings. The ball grew larger until it began to crackle and spark, then the weapon discharged. The ball shot into the jungle, vaporizing another section of the ruins. Nothing remained but a smoking crater.
“Let’s move,” Nolan said. He didn’t pause, just broke into a full sprint. The others followed, including Lena. No one needed to ask why.
The thrumming grew more powerful, and Nolan realized why. The ship was approaching.
“Pick up the pace, people,” Hannan yelled. She broke past Nolan, sprinting for the tree line. Nolan willed his exhausted muscles to work faster, but both Edwards and Mills burst past him.
Lena matched his pace, and she seemed just as winded as he was. They kept moving, adrenaline and fear motivating them forward. The thrumming grew louder still, but Nolan didn’t risk a glance over his shoulder. He saved everything for the run ahead of him, giving a sigh of relief when they finally reached the jungle.
He slid to a halt next to a massive tree with a million roots, and finally risked a glance back the way they’d come. The strange ship was now hovering directly over the ruins they’d just left. A ball of energy had already begun to grow, and Nolan winced when he realized the kind of destruction it would leave.
The ship fired, and the resulting explosion vaporized the ruins. The wave of destruction continued outward, expanding toward the jungle. Nolan took a deep breath, and made his peace. He watched the energy approach, then finally stop a dozen paces from the tree line. When it was done, another crater had been created. The ruins were gone, and so was the surrounding valley.
“It’s leaving,” Hannan said, pointing skyward. Nolan followed her finger.
The ship was breaking orbit, and heading directly toward the sun.
“Should we warn the Johnston?” Edwards asked.
“No,” Nolan said, absently. He was still staring at the retreating ship. “It will take several minutes for our transmissi
on to reach them, and by that time it’ll be too late to plot an intercept course. After what we just saw, I do not want to reveal our location. We’ll wait for these things to leave, then shuttle back to the Johnston. Dryker can decide what to do with all this.”
12
Report
Captain Dryker entered his quarters in a foul mood. He closed and sealed the hatch behind him, then sat heavily on his bunk. What the hell had he just gotten mixed up in? The ship that had left Mar Kona had been unlike anything recorded in mankind’s brief sojourn as a spacefaring race. It was possible that the Tigris or the Primo might know more about them, but he wouldn’t be allowed to contact them outside diplomatic channels. Especially given that they’d just destroyed a Tigris warship.
New races didn’t just suddenly appear, especially new races with technology that rivaled or exceeded the Primo. It was a conundrum, and one he simply didn’t have enough data to analyze. So he gave up for the time being. Dryker laid down, fluffing the flat, shapeless pillow as much as possible.
“Captain, this is CIC,” Juliard said, her voice coming from his comm.
“If we’re not under attack, it can wait,” he said, pulling off one of his boots and tossing it in the corner.
“Admiral Mendez would like to speak to you, sir.” Juliard’s tone conveyed a great deal about the urgency.
Damn it. Dryker had served under Mendez in the last war, and he still owed the old man.
“Put it through,” Dryker said, picking up the tablet from his desk and routing the call there. The green and white logo for the Quantum Network appeared, and a moment later the admiral’s face sprung into existence. His dark hair now sported a few patches of grey, especially in his thick beard.
“Ahh, Jim. I’m so glad I was able to reach you.” The admiral gave him a warm smile. He snipped the end off a cigar, holding it between his thumb and forefinger rather than lighting it.
“What’s this about, Manny?” Dryker asked. He pulled off his other boot and tossed it in the corner.
“Why don’t you tell me, Jim?” the admiral replied, raising a thick eyebrow. “I’ve got a report from your XO claiming he was pushed into a combat situation that could have wiped out everyone aboard the Johnston.”
“You were the one who told me he was some kind of prodigy,” Dryker said. He tugged off his Fleet jacket and dropped it on the floor. “You and I both know he’d never have been busted to the 14th if he hadn’t been sleeping with your daughter. Nolan’s spent the last four years learning to fight Tigris and Primo alike. He knows their vessels, their tactics, and our capabilities better than anyone. He also performed extremely well during officer testing, ranking in the top 3% of his class. He’s OFI material, through and through. I needed to see if all that was bullshit, or if he was as good as you claimed.”
“And if you’d been wrong? If he’d frozen up?” Mendez shot back. His gaze hardened. “The kid’s right, Dryker. It was reckless.”
“We play by different rules out here. Even if we didn’t, the vessel I had Nolan engage was a privateer, not the Claw of Tigrana,” Dryker countered. He stopped undressing and faced the tablet. “The 14th isn’t given anything in the way of resources, and you know it. Our only prayer is making the best use of the little we’re provided. I’m getting ready to retire, Manny. This kid will likely replace me in the next year. I either need to get him up to speed, or wash him out. I’m tired, and I don’t have a lot of options. Besides, I’m not falling for your bullshit. I know you too well.”
“What do you mean?” the admiral said, leaning back in his chair. He was focused on his unlit cigar, and didn’t meet Dryker’s gaze. That told Dryker everything he needed to know. Manny was playing games.
“I just reported the wreckage of two Tigris ships in human space. I’ve included data about new technology, and potentially a new race,” Dryker said. He waited until Manny met his gaze before continuing. “One of the vessels destroyed was science-class, which means the Leonis Pride is going to be pissed. When they find out we have one of their royal family on board, they’ll be even more pissed. Yet you haven’t brought up any of that. You’re grilling me about a routine command decision concerning my XO. What the hell, Manny? Stop playing games. Why did you really call?”
“All right, if you want to play it that way,” Mendez replied. He withdrew a silver lighter, lit his cigar, and took two experimental puffs. “The Tigris have lobbied our embassy to turn over the UFC Johnston. Since the admiralty knew that would mean the deaths of the entire crew, we sought another option. Apparently, the Primo are willing to intercede. They’ll provide a neutral meeting ground, and will render judgement once both parties have presented their findings. You’re to report to Theras Prime and turn yourself over to the Primo.”
“What?” Dryker said, blinking. “Are you serious, Manny? We just encountered a new race, one that appears to be wiping out human colonies. Mar Kona was gone. Every last person. And you want me to waste time playing politics?”
“You’re damn right I do,” Mendez snarled. He leaned closer to the screen. “Do you have any idea how dangerous the Primo are? You’ve tangled with the Tigris, and you know how outclassed we were in the last war. Go back three more centuries. Have you ever heard of the Seraphinium?”
“No,” Nolan said, unsure where the admiral was going with this.
“Exactly. No one has heard of them, because the Primo wiped them out. They destroyed an entire race, because that race broke a treaty with the Tigris,” Mendez explained. He paused to take another puff, and seemed calmer when he spoke again. “The Tigris are claiming you broke the treaty. Do you see where that puts us?”
“Okay, I see why you’re concerned,” Dryker allowed. “But what about the evidence we can present? Surely the Primo will realize that there’s a new player.”
“Evidence?” Mendez scoffed. He shook his head. “There is no hard evidence, just a grainy video of a ship lifting off. You claim these aliens self-destructed, and can’t bring back so much as a single one of these alleged plasma weapons.”
“It may not be hard evidence, but you’ve got the word of my CO, and of my Marines,” Dryker countered. “The kind of plasma weaponry they saw doesn’t exist anywhere, that we know of. It’s more advanced than the Primo. You can’t tell me that doesn’t alarm you.”
“What I think doesn’t matter. Evidence does,” the admiral said. “Someone’s going to pay for this, Dryker. I don’t want it to be you.”
“Give me time to find harder evidence. Just a week. Then we can kowtow to the Primo. They’re a patient species. Embassy can keep them occupied for a little while,” Dryker pleaded. He hated that he was doing it.
“I can’t,” Mendez said, looking genuinely regretful. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigar. “You know I’d like nothing better, Jim. I just can’t do it.”
“Manny, OFI sent me to Mar Kona to investigate for a reason,” Dryker said, wishing he had a glass of brandy and eight hours of sleep. “You had to know something was out there.”
“All we knew was that the colony hadn’t reported in for three days,” the admiral said. He leaned closer to the screen, spearing Dryker with his gaze. “You still can’t tell me what happened to those colonists.”
“I can’t get answers if I turn myself over for prosecution,” Dryker shot back. He tried to keep his tone even, but it wasn’t easy. He knew he had a bad temper. That was what had landed him in the 14th, after all.
Mendez sat up straight. Manny was gone, replaced by The Admiral.
“You are required to take your vessel to Primo space. I’m giving you a direct order,” Mendez said. He paused, letting his words sink in. “I can’t protect you on this one, Jim. Get to the coordinates provided, and get there quickly. Maybe we can salvage something out of this disaster.”
“Of course,” Dryker said, nodding. “We’ll head to Theras Prime with best speed.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” the admiral asked, leaning back and making his next w
ords just a little too casual. “Did you recover any artifacts from the ruins?”
“I told you, the ruins were destroyed by whatever this vessel was,” Dryker said. Why would Manny be interested in the ruins?
“Fair enough. Get here soonest, and I’ll do what I can to protect you.” Then the admiral terminated the connection.
Dryker had no intention of heading to Primo space. He’d already been a scapegoat once. This time, he was going to get to the bottom of this, whatever it took.
13
Kathryn
Kathryn paused before Admiral Mendez’s door, waiting for the retinal scanner to identify her. Its green beam passed over her eye, then chimed as it went dark. She waited for several tense heartbeats as her arrival was relayed to the admiral. Mendez was her direct superior, and he was notoriously hard to please. More than one career had been ended by a visit just like this one, and the fact that he was her father didn’t mean that she’d be spared. She’d seen, with Nolan, exactly how harsh he could be.
“Enter,” called a voice from within. The doors slid open of their own accord, and Kathryn was admitted to the admiral’s office. She gave the place the kind of once-over every OFI agent was trained to do, looking for anything out of place, anything that had changed.
Her father sat behind a wide mahogany desk flanked by massive bookshelves. Those shelves contained real books, mostly classic literary pieces. The titles ranged from Moby Dick to War and Peace, though there were also more than a few tactical volumes like Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and Michael Ragan’s Tactics & Strategy Unchained.
“Do you know why I’ve called you here, Lieutenant Commander?” Mendez asked. Lieutenant Commander, not Kathryn. Her father stared impassively at her, perching behind his thick black beard like an assassin about to ambush prey.
