Capital Starship (Ixan Legacy Book 1)

by Scott Bartlett

  His voice lowering, which made several people in the crowd lean forward, Husher said, “You have not chosen a safe place to live. You’re about to experience the horrors of war first-hand, in a way the public has never experienced them before. I wish it weren’t so. But in this universe, you do the best you can with what you have, as unfair as that might be. If you’re a fighter, then you don’t let unfair limitations stop you from achieving your goals. You work to conquer them, one by one. Right now, life has given me a warship full of civilians and a chance to stop a deadly enemy from gaining a foothold in our galaxy’s backyard. I’m going to take that chance. Because mark my words: this war will be fought for the survival of every species in this galaxy, and keeping ourselves safe is not worth giving up the chance to save them.

  “There’s been a lot of talk about oppression lately—about how some groups have it worse than others, how they’ve been treated unfairly, and how maybe they’re still being treated unfairly even now. I’m not here to debate which species have it better than others. But I am here to say that trying to tear each other down is not the way we make things better. That only weakens us, and leaves us even more vulnerable to catastrophe. If we’re to survive what’s coming, we need to put aside our animosities and band together. We need to work together, because right now, we’re at risk of not having a society to share at all. But if we can manage to unite, and if we can manage to win, then we can grow. And if we do that, then we can all become stronger and more prosperous, as one people. All of us.”

  The applause that followed was much more lengthy and robust than Husher had expected. It only came from about half the crowd, and it didn’t last nearly as long as the booing had, but it was something.

  When it died down, he added, “Given Dylan Chancey’s treachery, every policy enacted while he was mayor is now rescinded pending further review, and that review will wait until after the coming battle. As for the creation of zones closed to humans, Tumbra, or any other species—I will do everything in my power to oppose that, and if I am ever blinded or weak enough to allow it to happen again, I will resign. That divisive bullshit has no place on my ship.”

  Nodding, Husher began to step away from the podium. Before he could, Penelope Snyder’s voice blared from the crowd, amplified by a bullhorn: “Does this mean you’re instituting a military dictatorship, Captain?” she said.

  He leaned into the microphone again. “It means you chose to live on a warship that is now going to war. Feel free to call that whatever you like.”

  With that, he left the podium and began to leave Cybele.

  But Snyder wasn’t done. “Your daughter is still alive, Captain Husher,” she said into the bullhorn.

  Slowly, Husher turned, and as he did he could feel an incredulous grimace twisting his features. What insane tactic is Snyder using now?

  “That isn’t funny, Ms. Snyder,” he bellowed, without the aid of the podium’s microphone.

  “It wasn’t a joke,” Snyder answered. “Your daughter’s alive, and she’s standing right here.” Her hand lowered to rest on the shoulder of a young woman, and it took Husher a couple of seconds to recognize Maeve Aldaine.

  As their eyes met, Husher felt like he was drifting away—as though he were hearing the growing murmurs of the crowd through a long tunnel.

  Snyder seemed half-crazed under the best of circumstances, and what she was claiming now was absurd. Yet, as he gazed into Aldaine’s widening, ice-fleck eyes, the same color as his own, he knew beyond a doubt that what Snyder had said was true.

  Chapter 50

  Old School

  They sat alone in the wardroom, where Husher’s officers had done him the decency of giving them privacy. Either they’d heard the rumors about Snyder’s claim already, or they nevertheless sensed the conversation’s importance. Husher felt grateful to them either way.

  “How?” he said, looking from Snyder to Aldaine and back again. He’d already offered them food and drink, but they’d both declined.

  “I’m wondering that, too,” Maeve said. “Was this really the best way to tell us, Penelope?”

  “Apologies, dear,” Snyder said. “The captain left me with no choice.”

  “By which you mean you realized that you were down to your last card to play in your attempts to control this ship,” Husher said.

  Glaring at him, Snyder said, “If you want information from me, maybe you should start treating me with some respect.”

  “Putting aside the fact that I have no respect for you, I already know you’re going to tell me. If you don’t explain how this came to be, I definitely won’t believe you, and the card you’ve played will have no value whatsoever. So let’s stop wasting time. How did this happen?”

  Before Snyder spoke, Maeve did, staring at Husher. “My mother always told me she barely knew my father. She mentioned that she was married to you, once, but that you divorced and then she hooked up with someone at a party—that I was her ‘happy accident,’ and she didn’t want my father to know about me because she didn’t think he’d make good father material.”

  Husher narrowed his eyes. “Sera? Hooking up with someone at a party?”

  “I didn’t think it seemed like her either, but I just figured I didn’t know her when she was that young and maybe she’d changed. I never once entertained the thought she was lying to me, as she’s my mother.” Aldaine glanced at the bulkhead for a moment, then back at Husher. “The reason I wanted to conduct your Implicit Association and Bias Test was because I knew mom had been married to you, and I wanted to know what you were like. To see whether what everyone says about you is true, about how old school and regressive you are.”

  Husher gave a tired chuckle at that. “And?”

  “Turns out you are, yeah.”

  Raising his eyebrows, he turned to the university president. “How did this happen, Snyder?”

  Lips pursed, Snyder said, “Sera told me about the night your house was bombed. Maeve’s babysitter was inside when it happened, but Maeve was at her playmate’s house, down the street.”

  “Iris.”

  “Hmm?” Snyder said, head tilting sideways.

  Husher looked at his daughter, the slow wonder of this situation still dawning on him. “Your birth name was Iris.”

  “Yes,” Snyder said. “Sera changed that before she was old enough to know the difference, to make sure word of her survival wouldn’t reach you.”

  “That name does seem familiar to me,” Maeve said, and she spoke the word slowly: “Iris.”

  Snyder cleared her throat. “Anyway. Maeve had been invited for supper to her playmate’s house, and the babysitter messaged Sera to ask her was it okay, which she said it was. The playmate’s mother heard the bombing, of course, and when she saw whose house it was she called Sera.”

  Snyder paused, and Husher realized he was leaning forward, his eyes fixed on the woman’s face. “Sera told her not to tell me Iris had survived,” he said.

  “Indeed. She knew that if the Gok had tried to kill you once, they could easily try it again. For Maeve’s protection, she wanted to get her far away from you. That was the reason for the divorce. To protect your daughter.”

  Slowly, Husher shook his head. Part of him understood what Sera had done, but another part of him resented her deeply for it.

  “Of course, when Maeve expressed her intention to study at Cybele U, Sera was horrified, and she contacted me to explain the situation. She didn’t even know me, but she’d been following my work, and she believed she could trust me. Over the years leading up to Maeve’s enrollment, Sera and I kept in close touch, and we became friends. I promised her I would do everything I could to make both Cybele U and the Vesta as safe for her daughter as I possibly could.”

  Husher’s gaze drifted to his daughter once more. Iris. Maeve. She’d helped Snyder in her efforts to make the Vesta safe; efforts which Husher knew weren’t just about Maeve, or even just about the students. Snyder did what she did to push the world closer to
her vision for it, and in doing so, she increased her own influence and power. Husher didn’t believe everyone who shared her goals had that thirst for power, but he was convinced that Snyder did.

  “Captain Husher,” Snyder said, and her tone told Husher she was about to administer her final blow “If you won’t turn the Vesta around to keep the people of Cybele safe, will you do it for your daughter?”

  Husher met Snyder’s piercing gaze, and then he turned to study Maeve’s unreadable expression for a long moment.

  He looked at Snyder again. “No.”

  Chapter 51

  Unbridled

  As the Vesta transitioned into realspace beyond the outskirts of the Concord System, Husher experienced an odd mix of grim resolve and…well, and excitement.

  He’d never enjoyed the act of making war, but he understood its necessity. Certainly, he didn’t live under the illusion that every war through history had been necessary or even warranted, but he knew that sometimes war was needed to stand up to an enemy who couldn’t be negotiated with, who wanted to destroy your way of life or simply to kill you.

  Despite what he considered a realist’s perspective on armed conflict, today, he felt excited. And why shouldn’t I? The coming engagement would mark the first time since the advent of capital starships that their unbridled might would be unleashed. The first time a capital starship captain would not be forced to adhere to ROEs that offered the upper hand to the enemy on a silver platter.

  It wasn’t the most noble sentiment he’d ever felt, Husher knew that. But he was excited to see what the Vesta could truly do. Besides, since he’d already determined the warships in the Concord System were hostile, he was technically still observing the IU’s ROEs. Hopefully, I can get them to see it that way.

  “Multiple Gok contacts just outside the asteroid belt, sir,” Winterton said. “Teth’s vessel has made an appearance as well.”

  “How many Gok ships?”

  “Twelve, but they’re spread thin, with several light minutes between most of them.”

  “The Ixa and the Gok…” Fesky muttered. “Two species that have never had any trouble getting along properly.”

  Husher glanced at her. “Neither have you and I, Fesky. Mostly, anyway. We’ve always had each other’s backs. You haven’t let Snyder get to you enough to forget that, have you?”

  The Winger clacked her beak, then lowered her voice so only Husher could hear. “Well, to be fair to Snyder, you’re still pretty annoying sometimes, human.”

  Husher chuckled, then toggled his Oculenses till they showed him a tactical display. After a few seconds’ scrutiny, he saw the obvious angle of attack. It was a bit too obvious, which probably meant it was the one Teth wanted him to take, but Husher was content to play the Ixan’s game long enough to feel him out.

  For a moment, he wished there’d been enough time to outfit a squadron of Pythons with the ability to enter subspace, but that would have involved a lengthy delay, and probably returning to an IU system. It occurred to him that passing on that game-changing technological innovation would depend on whether he achieved victory, here.

  No pressure.

  “Kaboh,” Husher said.

  Slowly, the Kaithian turned to face him. “Captain?”

  “Am I going to have any trouble getting you to follow my orders during this engagement?”

  “As long we’re clear that I am merely following orders, and that your actions have almost certainly already destroyed your career—then no, Captain. You won’t.”

  That’ll have to do, I suppose. “In that case, set a course straight at Teth’s destroyer and the two Gok cruisers flanking it. Bring engines to seventy percent power.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tactical, I want port and starboard Hydra broadsides at the ready. Depending on how the other Gok ships react, we may need them.”

  “Aye, Captain. Commander Ayam just reported that all Python pilots are ready and standing by to scramble.”

  “Very good. Coms, make a shipwide broadcast advising all civilians to secure themselves and family members inside the safety harnesses provided to each residence.” In Husher’s experience, people normally kept the restraints affixed to a wall in a closet somewhere, since they didn’t like the visual reminder that the Vesta was a warship and might actually find herself in battle someday. I just hope no one threw them out. If anyone had, they were likely in for a rough ride.

  The necessary orders given for now, Husher sat in the command seat, back straight, and watched on the display as his supercarrier neared the opposing ships.

  He felt he was doing the right thing, deep down in his gut. And in his experience, whenever you felt that way, you usually were.

  Chapter 52

  What It Means to Tangle

  “The Ixan destroyer has loosed a fifty-missile barrage and has begun to withdraw into the asteroid field, sir,” Winterton said. “She’s yet to come about, though. This doesn’t look like a full-fledged retreat to me.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t,” Husher said. “Teth’s trying to bait us. But we should focus on the immediate problems first. Tactical, let’s show those Gok cruisers what it means to tangle with a capital starship that’s actually able to fire on them. Loose four Hydras each in a formation that blankets the area around those targets with potential firing solutions—say, twenty kilometers along both the X and Z axes. Make sure the missiles are programmed not to target enemy missile fire. Our point defense turrets should take care of most of those, though I’d like forward laser projectors set to point defense mode, to be safe.”

  “Aye, captain.”

  Winterton turned from the main display toward Husher. “Sir, the cruisers just added missile salvos of their own to the destroyer’s. Twenty-five missiles apiece have joined the incoming barrage.”

  “Coms, relay orders to Commander Ayam that he’s to scramble Pythons at once. Tell him to prioritize the Gok missiles as targets, and that I’ll have further orders for him once he’s finished with that.”

  The CIC officers with tasks to complete bent to their work, and Husher watched on the tactical display as his plan unfolded.

  Over the next ten minutes, he saw something on the display that startled him: things were going exactly the way he wanted. Both traditional and laser point defense systems worked together to start mowing down the incoming robots the moment they were in range, and Pythons in tight formations swooped in to pick off the more conventional Gok missiles on the large barrage’s flanks. Apparently, none of those had been programmed to prioritize fighters as targets should they appear, given that they just sailed dumbly toward the Vesta’s hull until they were obliterated.

  “Hydras ready to fire on your command, Captain,” Tremaine said.

  Husher nodded. “Fire Hydras.”

  “All Gok missiles have been neutralized,” Winterton put in. “The Pythons are starting work on the ordnance from the destroyer now. The chances of any robots getting through to the Vesta are extremely low.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Husher said, though he still felt bewildered. One of the only constants of space combat—and of warfare in general—was that plans never retained their original form after coming into contact with reality. A warship captain who was going to survive was one who needed to have Plans B, C, and D ready to go, and a captain who planned to survive for very long needed even more than that. Staying ready to turn on a dime was part of the job.

  The Gok cruisers seemed to spot the missiles targeting them, since they attempted to maneuver out of the way, but they weren’t ready for the Hydras splitting into several smaller missiles. The Gok had never seen weapons like these, since they hadn’t been around during the Gok Wars, and the species’ military intelligence was even more useless than the IGF’s intelligence.

  When the four Hydras split into thirty-two smaller missiles, the enemy cruisers scrambled to shoot them all down, using their own rockets in conjunction with point defense systems.

  But
it was far too late. The smaller missiles still packed quite a punch, and even two would likely be enough to take down the enemy ships.

  Far more than two made it through. Of the first volley, eleven missiles bypassed the target’s defenses, and of the second, thirteen.

  Both missile cruisers came apart in violent eruptions, the flames of which were swallowed almost instantly by the airless void of space.

  The Vesta’s CIC erupted into cheering and fists pumping in the air. Husher’s heart rose at that, and for the first time, he realized just how long it had been since he’d heard that sound inside a Fleet warship.

  “Be mindful of shrapnel from those cruisers,” Husher said to Winterton, and when he spoke, the cheering died down. He didn’t like to dampen the celebrating, but they were the only vessel in a battlespace beset by an unknown number of enemies, after all.

  “Aye, sir,” Winterton said, though he’d been among the first to resume scrutinizing his console’s readout.

  “What’s the destroyer’s posture?” From the tactical display, Husher could see that Teth was still retreating, but the data overview there only told him so much.

  “Steadily accelerating in reverse, though she hasn’t yet come about to face the inner system.”

  Husher nodded. Still not committing to a full retreat. Again, he wasn’t surprised. The asteroid belt was the perfect place to lay a trap for the Vesta. “Conduct constant active scans of the asteroid field as we enter it, Winterton. I want to know the instant something pokes a head out from its hiding place. And Coms, order Ayam to have his birds performing recon flybys behind asteroids big enough to conceal a warship within the range we’ve seen from the enemy.”