Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3)

by Isaac Hooke

  “Valor agrees to continue playing dead,” Barrick replied. “For now. But when the hull is breached, he’s going to power on and turn another side toward the enemy at the very least.”

  Jonathan sighed. “Fine.”

  A minute later Barrick announced that the laser had fired again, striking the same spot.

  “Has the Artemis emerged from hiding yet?” Jonathan asked.

  “No, but one of the alien advance probes is halfway to the closer asteroid, David, so I expect we’ll hear from the Artemis shortly.” He paused. “A kinetic kill missile just emerged from behind the asteroid.” The aliens were able to distinguish between nukes and kinetic kills by the heat signature.

  Jonathan frowned when he heard the news. He felt the launch was a touch too soon.

  Given the position of David, the kinetic kill was fifty thousand kilometers from the final laser segment and the closer dart ship, T1. More than enough time for the laser to adjust its firing position and take out the weapon. Then again, perhaps it was a wise move on Rail’s part, as it was drawing attention away from the Talon; Rail would have known by now how much of a loose canon Valor could be, and she must have imagined the alien captain would be arguing with Jonathan to remove their ship from the line of fire.

  “The heat signature of the Artemis just lit up our passive sensors,” Barrick said. “It’s maneuvering in front of David.” He paused. “The asteroid is moving, too. Very slowly. But it’s moving.”

  The robot teams aboard the corvette had secured a long tow line to the rock before the battle. Those teams had drilled the hook into the outward-facing rim of the asteroid, and after a few test runs to determine the feasibility of the set up, the Artemis had flown around to the back to hide. Even with its engines and life support shut down, the irregularly shaped asteroid had barely concealed the residual heat signature of the craft.

  “How fast?” Jonathan asked.

  “She’s brought it up to ten percent of maximum thrust,” Barrick answered. “Eleven. Twelve. The speed is stabilizing. The Artemis just launched four more kinetic kills, and eight mortars. The craft is repositioning itself behind David once more.”

  Jonathan nodded. Things were going somewhat to the plan...

  “Location of Goliath?” he asked.

  “Otter says the farther asteroid just crossed the five thousand, five hundred kilometer mark off the starboard bow of T2.”

  The Galilei and Artemis had teamed up to alter the course of Goliath much earlier, and that asteroid had been steadily drifting inward on a diagonal vector toward T2’s current location six hundred thousand kilometers from the Talon.

  “The Galilei has emerged from hiding,” Barrick said.

  In a lucky break, the Goliath had an old mining tunnel big enough to fit the Galilei, which had allowed the corvette to escape detection by the advance probes. The Talon had tested the security of the location with its own telemetry probes.

  “It looks like they’ve cut loose their tow line, given the distance they moved out from behind the cover of the asteroid,” Barrick said.

  Jonathan nodded. The Galilei wouldn’t need to tow the rock, not at that range. Besides, in test runs the Delta V requirements necessary to move Goliath on its own had proven inordinately high, so he had advised Rodriguez to discard the tether at the earliest opportunity. The Galilei had remained connected only in case the opposing ships halted somewhere far removed from the expected position.

  “T2 is issuing emergency thrust,” Barrick said. “The Galilei just fired its heavy lasers.”

  At the five thousand, five hundred kilometer mark, the intensity would be enough to cut a gash halfway through the enemy ship.

  “Damage?” Jonathan asked.

  “Otter says T2 appears to be completely disabled,” Barrick answered. “The Galilei is accelerating toward the closest lens segment of the laser ship...” A segment that was a hundred thousand kilometers away.

  Valor had explained through Barrick earlier that at least one ship was needed to power the laser ship, and it could do so from any of the segments. With T2 gone, that meant eliminating T1 was the highest priority.

  Also, because of the design, the individual lenses could not repeat the laser backwards, so even though the Galilei didn’t have an asteroid to protect it, the corvette was in the clear, at least until it reached the firing range of the first segment.

  “The first segment fired again,” Barrick announced. “It’s taken down the closest missile.”

  “What about the other four missiles, and the hemming mortars?” Jonathan asked.

  “Still in the game, thirty-five thousand kilometers from the targets.”

  “And the Artemis and David?” Jonathan asked.

  “Forty-eight thousand kilometers from the targets,” Barrick said. He glanced at Jonathan from behind his faceplate. “Valor wants us to power up and join in the hunt.”

  “Not yet,” Jonathan said. “Tell him to follow the plan.”

  “He’s insistent...” Barrick said.

  “Hold him back!” Jonathan said.

  A moment later, Barrick said: “I think I’ve calmed him down.”

  The minutes passed tensely. The laser ship continued to fire, taking down the incoming missiles one by one. Then it focused on the asteroid, David. Fortunately for the Artemis, the rock was solid throughout, and the thick iron ore would take some time to penetrate at that range.

  When the asteroid reached the thirty thousand kilometer mark from the targets, the Artemis emerged, and rotated another side of David to face the laser before returning into hiding, prolonging the durability of their shield.

  Meanwhile, from its position five hundred and fifty thousand kilometers away, the Galilei launched a missile and mortar spread. It followed that up with another, slower volley of mortars to use as a shield for itself.

  While not an immediate threat to T1 and the laser ship, that second attack triggered the flight reflex in the enemy.

  “They’re accelerating,” Barrick announced. “Heading straight for the Talon.”

  “That’s right,” Jonathan said, mostly to himself. “Fly precisely where we want you to. Come to daddy.”

  “The laser is changing attitude, as is the escort,” Barrick said. “They’re reorienting toward the Talon.”

  Jonathan nodded grimly.

  “The Artemis emerged from cover,” Barrick said. “They’ve fired another couple of kinetic kills and mortars... and it looks like they’re diving back behind David. The laser segment is turning away from the Talon.”

  “That’s what we want,” Jonathan said.

  “Though T1 remains pointed at us.”

  “But they’re still too far away to cause any damage,” Jonathan said.

  The Artemis continued to fire missiles sporadically as the laser shot them down. T1 kept its nose pointed toward the Talon.

  “The targets are approaching the latent missiles,” Barrick announced. Those were the missiles Jonathan had placed at the start of the battle, meant to appear as exhausted mines. “They’re currently ten thousand kilometers away, at a seven o’clock position to the targets.”

  Come on, Rail, activate them, Jonathan thought.

  A few moments later Barrick said: “The waiting missiles are eight thousand kilometers away, at an eight o’clock position to the targets.”

  Come on, Rail!

  He was ready to break radio silence.

  “The latent missiles have activated,” Barrick announced.

  Jonathan exhaled in relief.

  “The targets are turning toward the new threats,” Barrick said.

  “That’s right,” Jonathan commented. “Turning their backs on us. Tell Valor he can power us up. Let’s go hunting.”

  The red filaments in the bulkheads glowed brightly as the bridge hummed back to life.

  “Valor is swinging our nose around,” Barrick said. “He’s accelerating.”

  “How far to the enemy?” Jonathan asked.

  �
��Twenty thousand kilometers,” Barrick replied.

  “Tell Valor to fire when within range,” Jonathan said.

  Barrick nodded. “Valor says he intends to.” He paused. “The missiles launched in a previous volley by the Artemis are converging on the targets. They’ll come within range at roughly the same time as the latent missiles.”

  “The enemy vessels are going to have to make a choice,” Jonathan said. “Keep their backsides exposed to us so they can shoot down all those incoming missiles, or turn around and take a hit so that they can fire on us.”

  “Looks like the escort ship is turning its nose to face us,” Barrick said. “While the laser segment remains aimed at some of the incoming kinetics.”

  Jonathan smiled grimly. “The choice has been made...”

  He found it hard to still the pounding in his veins. Tinnitus in his left ear pulsed in sync.

  Got to get that corrected sometime.

  “Enemy range is fifteen thousand kilometers,” Barrick said. “They’re opening fire.”

  “Damage?” Jonathan said a moment later.

  “They’ve eaten away some of our nose section,” Barrick replied. “But the particle cannon is still intact.”

  Jonathan nodded.

  Barrick’s eyes defocused. “A missile just impacted the aft section of the escort ship. Another. A third. Another missile just struck the laser segment... Otter says it looks like the escort ship has lost half of its reactors. It’ll take twice as long to recharge their particle cannon. Four minutes, instead of the usual two.”

  “Unless they’re bluffing,” Jonathan said. “And purposely shutting down reactors to alter their heat signature. In any case, transmit a message calling for their surrender.”

  Barrick took a moment to reply: “Otter says there is no response.”

  “I guess there’s no point in maintaining radio silence anymore,” Jonathan said. “Artemis, Galilei, do you read?”

  Because of the range, and the interference from the radiation belts, and the fact that there were no telemetry drones out there to act as repeaters, he received only a garbled reply.

  Three minutes later Barrick announced: “We’ve closed to within nine thousand kilometers.”

  “Why hasn’t Valor fired?” Jonathan said.

  Barrick shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  The seconds ticked past. Jonathan kept expecting the enemy to unleash its particle weapon first, because the four minute recharge interval Otter had come up with had to be an estimate.

  Thirty seconds later Barrick announced. “We’ve closed to eight thousand kilometers.”

  “Fire, damn it,” Jonathan said.

  “He says not yet,” Barrick replied.

  Jonathan gritted his teeth. The seconds ticked past. He clenched his gloved fingers.

  Fire.

  Barrick glanced at him.

  “He’s firing,” the telepath said. Then: “They cut the escort ship clean in half.”

  Jonathan thought he understood why Valor wanted to wait: to cause as much damage as possible.

  “Update me on the laser segment,” Jonathan said.

  “Otter tells me it appears heavily damaged from the missile strike,” Barrick replied. “Though of course it’s completely useless without another ship to power it.”

  “And the disabled T2?”

  “The ship is still floating in the void, six hundred thousand kilometers away. Valor is asking for their surrender.” Barrick paused. “We just got our answer.”

  “What was it?” Jonathan asked.

  “The vessel self-destructed.”

  Jonathan tilted his head. “Nice.”

  The laser ship detonated a moment later, along with its remaining segments.

  twenty-six

  After the battle the Galilei collected its undetonated missiles, and then the ships gathered to take stock of their inventory. The Artemis had expended roughly half of its kinetic kills and mortars, while the Galilei had lost only a few mortars. Neither ship had wasted any nuclears, leaving them with three each. Overall it was an entirely reasonable expenditure, considering the victory.

  Jonathan reminded himself that luck had played a large role. Nonetheless, he allowed himself some credit for the triumph, because even the best stratagems often involved a roll of the dice at some point.

  The journey to the next Slipstream was estimated at six days. Though the Talon could have arrived in four and a half at its top speed, Valor agreed to limit the maximum velocity of his ship to that of the corvettes.

  When they cleared the radiation belts, Jonathan had the corvettes radio ahead to the Dragonflies hidden behind Anvil Rappel III. A hidden telemetry drone in orbit above the planet relayed his orders to the shuttles, instructing them to move the Gate back to the Slipstream above the nearby Anvil Prime. Galileo promised that by the time the alien-human fleet arrived, the Gate would be in place. Jonathan told the AI that if there was time, a couple of the Dragonflies were to fly down to the razed surface of Anvil Prime afterward and search for survivors. He felt more inclined to render assistance to any refugees there as compared to Prius 3A, given that a) the pursuers had been eliminated, b) NAVCENT very likely knew about the invaders by then, and c) the planet was directly above their route.

  The corvettes flanked the Talon, keeping a little over thirty thousand kilometers away at all times, well within range of the comm node aboard Dragonfly 1, which remained stowed in the hangar bay. That was closer than the forty thousand klick distance the AIs originally intended to maintain. Jonathan took that as a sign of trust. Either Captains Rail and Rodriguez had managed to sway the AIs to his side, or the actions of the Talon in the last battle had done all the convincing that was needed. Then again, at thirty thousand kilometers both ships were still well outside the range of the alien particle cannon.

  The AIs had requested he continue the transfer of the full data files, and Jonathan complied. When the transmission finally completed a day and a half later, the AIs thanked him and said not a word more on the matter. They made no mention about his mutiny attempt against Admiral Knox, none whatsoever. He supposed the AIs had concluded the board of inquiry would handle his punishment. And rightly so.

  Jonathan remained in the berthing area of the Talon for most of the journey. He evolved some semblance of routine. Wake up in the morning. Don the helmet. Unzip the tent. Walk to the open latrine. Relieve himself in the suit. Empty the drainage canister into the latrine. Retrieve the gruel the aliens had left in the airlock. Return to the tent. Zip up the fabric. Take off the helmet. Eat. Immerse himself in VR courtesy of his aReal. Don the helmet and repeat all of the previous actions. Again. Then take a dump and empty the suit’s fecal collector in the latrine. Return to the tent. Sleep. Start the process anew the next day. All under the watchful eyes of the Centurions, and likely the Talon’s own AI.

  He felt very much like a prisoner. It was a bit of a warm-up, he supposed, for days to come. His current experience wouldn’t be too far removed from being locked up for mutiny, should it come to that.

  He missed the philosophical conversations with Robert and Maxwell. The limited AI in his aReal didn’t have quite the conversational abilities of either of them. Sometimes he tried conversing with the combat robots that had stayed behind, and while their AIs were more advanced, they were programmed to kill, not talk. It was like trying to pick up an uninterested girl; the conversations were very one-sided.

  Barrick visited occasionally, but their talks were mostly superficial. Jonathan was always glad when the telepath departed.

  “How are you holding up?” Rodriguez asked over the comm one time.

  Jonathan had to chuckle. “You mean alone, on an unfamiliar ship, surrounded by aliens of questionable allegiance and robots who would rather kill than talk to me, with the only other human aboard a telepath who would probably take over my mind if I ever forgot to wear my helmet before leaving my tent? Good, all things considered.”

  Rodriguez’s return la
ugh arrived a moment later. It took electromagnetic waves a tenth of a second to traverse the thirty thousand kilometer distance between the ships, but factoring in the multiple layers of error-correction and redundancy to account for the packet loss, the lag increased to about a second either way, even with audio only.

  “What do you think we’ll find on the other side of the Slipstream?” Rodriguez said. “King Arthur’s resting place?”

  Jonathan smiled. “Hardly. The system is only Avalon in name, not reality. The real Avalon, just like King Arthur, never existed. Only war awaits us on the other side, my friend. War and battle. Such is our fate. And then when we are done fighting, we’ll be arraigned by the same people we fought for. I will be, anyway.”

  “Are you always so dour?” Rodriguez said a moment later. “Arraigned. It’s an inquiry, not a trial. It’s a wonder Commander Cray can put up with you.”

  “It is indeed,” Jonathan said. “He was probably very glad to see me go.”

  “Delta Avalon,” Rodriguez said. “Delta. Fourth brightest star in the constellation.”

  “That’s right, change the subject.”

  Again Rodriguez laughed. “We can keep talking about how your first officer dislikes you, if you want.”

  Jonathan grinned. “No.”

  “Do you know which constellation Delta Avalon belongs to?” Rodriguez said.

  “Avalon, obviously,” Jonathan said.

  “Do you know where it is in the night sky?” Rodriguez pressed.

  “No.”

  “I’ll give you a hint,” Rodriguez added. “It’s not a constellation visible from Earth.”

  Jonathan felt his brow furrow. “I thought all stars were named for Earth constellations.”

  “Most of them are, but this one is different. You see, after the Foot of the Centaur was colonized, when the first wave of inhabitants looked into the sky they saw a constellation that bore a likeness to an apple tree. They named it Avalon after the fabled island from Arthurian legend that was covered in perennial apple trees. The Avalon constellation. The colonists lobbied the United Systems to have the name officially accepted, and eventually the government capitulated and the involved stars were renamed. It was the first time a constellation visible from another planet superseded the names previously assigned to a set of stars from Earth.”