Archangel One

by Evan Currie

A brave thing to do, he supposed, but not terribly effective or intelligent on the surface. If he wanted to get to the planet, going through the destroyer wouldn’t be a challenge, and the other captain had to know it.

  “I wonder.” He turned, eyes narrowing as he examined the augmented view that existed around them.

  “What is it, Commander?” Gordon asked.

  “Either our friend over there”—Steph gestured to the icon of the destroyer in the distance—“is brave but not too bright, or he’s distracting us from reinforcements.”

  “Excuse me?” Gordon asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “Putting his destroyer between us and the planet is symbolic, and he knows it,” Steph said. “We could go through him in a heartbeat.”

  “Seems like something your Commodore Weston might do,” Gordon suggested mildly.

  “Eric would only do that if he thought he had a chance, or if he had no other choice, neither of which fits the current situation,” Steph said as he tapped in a few commands. “In this situation, gravity is your friend. I’d park myself upwell of the potential enemy, just in case I needed to use the added potential energy of the star as one last arrow in my quiver.”

  “What good would . . .” Gordon blinked. “You’d ram them?”

  “As a last resort, yes, but potential energy converts very quickly into kinetic energy in space for whatever use you might have. So what I’m wondering is whether our friend out there is gutsy but stupid, or . . .” Steph trailed off, smiling as he spotted something on the visual scanners. “Maybe he has backup approaching from the shadow of the gas giant right there.”

  Gordon leaned forward and looked at where Steph was gesturing. “All I see are glints of light. Are you sure?”

  “Three more destroyers,” Steph said. “Not enough to take us based on what we’ve scanned of the locals, but I’m glad to see that our potential employers aren’t stupid.”

  Gordon nodded. “Interesting play, that, by the way. I wouldn’t have thought of it, I have to admit. But then I cut my teeth on intelligence operations leading up to the Block War, not in the age of sail and pirates.”

  Steph chuckled. “Unfortunately, everything I know about modern intelligence work, which is limited, I have to admit, is useless in this case. We don’t have any sort of exchange with the Imperial worlds, which makes classic infiltration impossible. We need a legend if we’re to gain access to the Empire without them being overly suspicious of us.”

  “A merchant group might be lower key,” Gordon said.

  “It might,” Steph agreed. “But we’ll learn more this way, even if we don’t actually gain access to the Empire itself.”

  Gordon had to concede the point. “It will be interesting, I’ll say that.”

  “That it will,” Steph said, pausing as an alarm sounded, announcing the approach of the destroyer. “I think we’re on. Game faces.”

  “I’m always in my game face, Commander.”

  Berine Gael

  Auran shook his head as he leaned over the communications display. “No My Lord, I do not have any idea who they are. We have nothing that matches on our computers. I was rather hoping that the central systems in the capital might have more.”

  “I’m afraid not,” the man on the screen said seriously. “I’ve ordered a complete scan through all of our systems, including the ones that don’t exist, if you understand my meaning . . .”

  Auran nodded slowly.

  “I understand,” he said finally. “What are my orders?”

  “Find out what they want,” Lord Peruma told him firmly. “His Majesty is interested in why an unknown squadron of starships would intervene on our behalf. Possibly they have something against the Belj. However, they didn’t pursue when the destroyers fled, so that seems unlikely. At the moment, we want to know why above all else.”

  “Assuming I determine the cause is in keeping with Kingdom security?”

  “Then we’ll have something to discuss with them, I suppose, Commander. First, however, see to the current needs of state.”

  Auran nodded. “Very well, My Lord.”

  The signal went dead, leaving Auran to stare at the display for a moment before turning around and walking to the front of his overwatch position.

  “Very well,” he repeated, but louder for the rest of the crew. “Signal the unknown squadron and Mr. . . . Teach.”

  Archangel One

  “Captain Teach, I presume.”

  Steph ignored the strangled snort behind him while he examined the man on the projected image before he responded. “That’s correct. Commander Auran?”

  The man nodded curtly. “I have been instructed to thank you for your intervention with the Belj starships, Captain. I would be remiss if I didn’t wonder exactly what made you choose to do so?”

  “Call it . . . a job interview,” Steph said. “We’ve recently found ourselves at a bit of loose ends, and steady employment would go a long way to keeping the lights on.”

  Auran looked quizzical at his choice of words but didn’t comment immediately.

  “You are mercenaries, then,” he murmured after a time.

  “I prefer the term ‘privateer,’ personally,” Steph said with a wide smile.

  “That word means little to me,” Auran admitted, puzzled.

  “Local turn of phrase. No matter, ‘mercenary’ will do, I suppose.”

  Steph noted that the commander killed the audio as he turned to speak with someone offscreen, and quickly did the same.

  “Thoughts?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “He’s perplexed, probably as much by your bluntness as your odd word choice,” Gordon said, “but there’s interest there.”

  “I’d be surprised if there weren’t,” Steph said. “The Auto and her crew did some decent probes of the nonaffiliated star colonies out here, and this one is the weakest of the bunch. They’re really only independent because the others keep fighting over the scraps, as best Passer’s people could tell. They need every running gun they can get.”

  “Agreed. That doesn’t mean they can be trusted.”

  Steph snorted, finding the very idea hilarious. “I can’t say that I’ve ever met a government that could be, including my own. Too many moving parts, as a rule.”

  Gordon couldn’t exactly gainsay that statement, as much as he’d have liked to. The commander was right, sadly. A large, multiperson entity like a government might be filled with ninety-nine percent trustworthy people, but that remaining one percent would screw you every time.

  The sound came back, bringing Steph’s attention forward once more.

  “Assuming we were interested in such services as you might provide”—Auran hedged around the statement, making it hard for Steph not to smile—“what might your expected fees be?”

  “I’m certain we would be able to work something out, Commander,” Steph said. “I—”

  A sound of a throat clearing behind him caused Steph to glance over his shoulder as Gordon stepped into the range of the communications system.

  “And who might you be?” Auran demanded, looking at the new figure.

  “Gordon,” the spook said firmly. “Squadron purser. And I believe you know what our fee would consist of.”

  It was everything Steph could do not to look at the other man in consternation as he tried to figure out what fee the man was talking about.

  Auran, however, seemed to relax slightly at those words, though he also became somewhat more somber.

  “You are speaking of a valuable commodity, Mr. Gordon. How can we be certain that your services are truly worth that?”

  “I believe we’ve proven our mettle here today,” Gordon said. “We can handle any duties you might expect of a squadron massing far more than our tonnage.”

  Auran nodded slowly. “A moment.”

  He cut the audio again, and Steph instantly did the same.

  “What was that?” he demanded, turning to hide his face from the alien commander.

/>   “Every small principality has some product that they’re particularly proud of, generally something that functions as a tent pole to the local economy,” Gordon said. “It’s easier to let them do both sides of the negotiation as much as possible, given that we don’t know enough to make demands.”

  Steph couldn’t exactly argue with that, at least not until he saw the outcome of the negotiations.

  “A little heads-up next time would be appreciated,” Steph said. “Clear, Purser Gordon?”

  The spook smiled thinly. “Clear, Commander.”

  Berine Gael

  “Are you following the discussion, My Lord?” Auran asked as he watched the supposed mercenaries on his display out of the corner of his eye. Even without audio, their interactions made some things about them clear.

  “Indeed, if they are what they claim, this could be a much-needed respite,” Peruma said.

  “And if they’re not, this is likely a trap intended to cost us greatly. Mercenaries are rarely trustworthy.”

  “Engage them for a short-term mission,” Peruma ordered. “The assault here was likely a distraction as much as anything else. Our analysts indicate that the crystal mines are most likely the true target.”

  “No one knows where those are,” Auran said sharply. “Surely you’re not suggesting that we allow these mercenaries to learn of the location.”

  “Of course not,” Peruma said. “This is what I want you to do . . .”

  It took a while before the audio came back. When it did Steph turned forward as he returned pickups on his side as well.

  “Yes, Commander Auran?” he asked respectfully.

  “We do have a short-term operation that you may be able to help us with,” Auran said stiffly.

  Gordon stepped forward smoothly, smiling pleasantly as he did so. “Then why don’t we discuss details, Commander?”

  Chapter 13

  NACS Odysseus, Deep Black

  “All systems clear from transition, Commodore. Squadron has reported in, all accounted for.”

  Eric nodded to the report. “Thank you, Commander. Any signs of enemy presence?”

  Miram shook her head. “Nothing to this point, sir, but we’re still gathering data.”

  “Understood, as you were, then,” Eric said as he looked over some of the incoming scans on his own, briefly skimming the results.

  There was nothing there, of course—well, not beyond the normal sorts of things they’d expect to see upon transitioning into a new system. Gravity signals were already filtering in from across the system, locking down the location of large objects with relative precision. None were making any odd changes in orbit that might indicate a ship in motion, which meant practically nothing unfortunately.

  Hiding a ship, or even many ships, in the area of space that your average solar system occupied was both challenging and easy, depending on the situation. If you had no particular tactical concerns, you could hide a fleet without concern. Just stay off the system’s ecliptic by a decent degree, away from the path of the planets as they orbited the star, and it would be all but impossible for anything but the most intense and obvious scanning attempt to pick you up.

  You would also be, inevitably, so far out of position from any object of strategic value that mounting an intercept would require an act of God.

  So the Odysseus task group was largely ignoring those sections of space for the moment, and focusing on places that would present a strategic or tactical problem as they continued forward in their examination of the system.

  Even so, it was an immense section of space, and all but a tiny fraction of a percentage of it would be inevitably empty.

  If nothing else, we’ll get excellent survey scans of the system, I suppose, Eric thought wearily.

  This was the third system they’d transitioned into since leaving Ranquil, hunting the presumed Imperial group that was harassing Priminae sectors. The first two had turned up empty, and that was fine by him. The crew was still working up to full efficiency, and he’d rather not test them to destruction before absolute necessity forced his hand.

  Even as that thought crossed his mind an alarm sounded, and Eric started cursing himself.

  Goddamn you, Murphy, you Irish bastard.

  “What is it?” he demanded, striding across the deck.

  “Emergency transponder signal, Commodore,” Miram said tersely. “Priminae encoding.”

  “Signal general quarters, bring the squadron to combat readiness.”

  “Aye sir,” Miram answered instantly, turning her head just slightly. “Sound general quarters!”

  “General quarters, aye!”

  The alarm began to ring through the ship and the squadron beyond as Eric focused his attention on the scans of the system before them, wondering where . . . and if, the enemy was present.

  Imperial Eighth Fleet Command

  A soft alarm brought Helena to the command deck at a brusque pace. “Report.”

  Her executive officers stiffened at her voice, the senior present automatically turning.

  “We detected a gravity shift near the edge of the system, Fleet Commander,” he told her. “Normally, we would have considered it likely to be an outer planet, unlikely to be of any concern; however, there were . . . anomalies.”

  Helena strode over. “Explain.”

  She listened as he spoke, but her eyes were locked onto the scans coming in through the fleet’s long-range scanning systems. The data was intriguing, to say the least.

  “The gravity source came from nowhere on our sensors, ma’am,” he said, sounding confused. “It flagged as a likely sensor failure, but when we did a systems check, everything tested as functional.”

  “Where did it come from?” she asked, now confused herself. She could see what he was referring to on the data stream, and there was definitely something there that made no sense at all.

  “Uncertain. We’re running the scans back, trying to determine that, but the only thing we can think of is some sort of stealth system.”

  That was a worrying thought.

  If these anomalous people have the ability to fully stealth their gravity signature, that would go a long way in explaining the fleet commander’s failure at subjugating them in the last incursion.

  The problem with that idea was, of course, that stealthing a gravity signature was supposedly impossible. Gravity could be twisted and tamed, otherwise a ship the likes of an Imperial cruiser could never approach a populated planet. The gravity of her singularity core would utterly disrupt any populace with tidal forces the likes of which no one wanted to live through. However, it was quite impossible—supposedly—to disguise the quantum signature of any universal mass.

  You could make the universe treat mass in different ways, similar to how one might convert matter to energy and vice versa, but that did not in any way negate the fact that the mass existed.

  “Figure it out,” she ordered, eyes tracking the course of the objects they’d detected. So far they appeared to be on a ballistic trajectory, making for what would likely be a deep pass through the system.

  Nowhere near our position, damn it all.

  She honestly would have been surprised if the two forces had been on a converging approach, of course, but it would have made things easier. Given the sheer scope of space, that was all but a fantasy.

  “Signal the fleet, have them stand to for combat operations.”

  “At your orders, Fleet Commander!”

  Belj Fleet, Deep Space Within the Free Stars

  “Commander Hirik, what in the abyss happened to your squadron? Our intelligence indicated that the Star Kingdom destroyers were all out of position to intercept.”

  Hirik nodded cheerlessly in response to the admiral’s words. “They were. However, a squadron of unknown vessels performed a fast intercept using the local star to disguise their approach from our visual scanners.”

  “That would hardly have impacted gravity sensors.”

  “No, Admiral. Howe
ver, they were extremely low visibility on those scanners. We missed them in the interference of the multiple planetary bodies near their position,” Hirik admitted. “They were small, fast, and extremely powerful.”

  The Belj admiral, one Sudecki Mir, scowled deeply as he considered that statement and looked over the computer records.

  “This does not sound like the Star Kingdom,” Mir said. “They should not have resources of this nature. They’re generations behind our technical capacity, Commander.”

  “I have read the intelligence brief, Admiral. I cannot explain it,” Hirik said.

  Mir growled but waved the commander’s screen off, leaving his deck in silence for a moment as he considered the situation.

  “Sub-Commander.”

  “Yes, Admiral?”

  “What are the indicators showing?” Mir asked, walking across the command deck to the strategic display.

  “All signs show that the plan did precisely what we intended,” the sub-commander confirmed. “The Kingdom recalled the available destroyers in an attempt to cover the capital planet, as predicted. We had pickets monitoring the withdrawal. Everything appears to be in order.”

  “And yet,” the admiral muttered grimly, “our vanguard squadron has returned with barely two of the destroyers at full capacity, and two nearly destroyed. That was not in the calculations.”

  “There are unknown variables,” the sub-commander admitted. “However, everything we can monitor is effectively at the expected optimum outcome.”

  “And yet, should it be?” The admiral examined the data, eyes flicking from point to point on the displays.

  That was the question he had to answer. Should the indicators be as expected given the unknown variables? It didn’t seem like they should, but if they were just dealing with one set of unknowns, it was possible, he supposed. The issue was that he didn’t have enough to tell him if that was the case.

  Mir had to make a call, but didn’t have the information he needed to do so. He hated such situations. However, he was aware of just how badly they needed the computational crystals that only the Kingdom could produce in high enough quality to compete with Imperial technology. Without those crystals, the Belj Empire would soon lose influence and assets to their enemies.