Eye of the Abyss

by Michael Formichelli

“Ah, that.” She licked her lips. “Family’s tough, but you ain’ got that luxury.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’ consider him family now. Seems he was a bit eager to take your place, an’ he let that enemy spy go, right?”

  He nodded.

  “So what would you do to someone who wasn’ a relation who did that?” she asked.

  “I see where you’re going with this.”

  “Well?”

  “The traditional punishment is death by drowning.” Could he really do that to Aki’s husband? Did he really deserve it?

  “There’s your answer. I assume you don’ have to drown someone in space.”

  Ichiro swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Spacing is an alternative aboard a ship.”

  She nodded.

  Before he could argue against execution the door chimed. Tengu picked up his head and sniffed at the air.

  “Enter,” Ichiro said.

  The door dilated open and Europa walked in. The green and red helix on her lapel shimmered in the dim cabin light.

  “Am I interrupting something?” she asked with an odd look at Armstrong. He felt her go from cool to hot with aggression and had to wonder why. Was she jealous of Armstrong? Why would that be?

  “Where’s your brother?” Armstrong crossed her arms before her chest. her emotions walled off so fast it felt like a smack in his face. What was going on here?

  Tengu snorted loud enough to startle the two women.

  “Up on the bridge,” she answered Armstrong while looking at Ichiro. “We’ll be entering your home system soon.”

  “What brings you by?” he asked.

  “I volunteered to bring the news of our impending arrival to you in person,” she said.

  “And?”

  “And I wanted to give you some advice.”

  He cocked his eyebrow.

  “We’ve been thinking, and we know you’re going to want to reveal yourself to your people when we arrive at Taiumikai. We think it might be a bad idea,” she said.

  He and Tengu stood up.

  “They have a right to know I survived.”

  “You don’t know who attacked you, not really. Revealing yourself will allow them to adapt to your survival. It is a tactical mistake.”

  “It was Daedalus. The defense network recordings made it obvious.” He frowned.

  “Protector of the Confederation, Admiral of the Confederate Fleet, and the child of your mother’s family suddenly decided that one of the greatest forces for good in the Confederation had to die? We don’t agree.” Europa shook her head.

  “When you put it like that…” Armstrong trailed off after seeing his look.

  “I admit it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it was the Abyssian’s ship that fired on my home world.”

  “That is not open for debate,” Europa said. “We just think something is not adding up here, and we shouldn’t rush to judgment.”

  He scowled. “So how does that affect whether or not I should speak to my people?”

  “Given the means by which you arrived at Phykor, we are thinking whoever attacked you thinks you are dead along with your planet,” she said. “If they think their target is destroyed, you will have an easier time ferreting out your true enemy.”

  “It makes sense, but what if my enemy really is Daedalus?”

  “Then that will become obvious as time moves on.” She pursed her lips.

  “Again, it’s hard to see how it isn’t. Who could take control of an Abyssian ship?” he asked.

  “Was the Abyssian the only person on board when it attacked?” Europa asked.

  He frowned. “No, but I highly doubt Praetor Graves or Agent Khepria would be responsible for something like this.”

  “So there were two Abyssians and an agent of some kind? What was this Khepria an agent of?” Europa asked.

  “The CSA, but—”

  “Forgive me for the interruption,” she held up her hand, “but the CSA is under control of the Barony—which is itself under control of your House’s most hated enemy.”

  His mouth opened and closed without sound. Could Agent Khepria have been responsible? Nero trusted her, that was obvious, and Setha trusted Nero, so he extended the same good will to her. Was that a mistake? Setha had not said anything about her to him, and it wasn’t as though he really knew her. A conversation on Elmorus didn’t count as knowing someone. Still, it didn’t feel right.

  “How could a CSA agent take over an Abyssian ship? Daedalus’ programming is said to be unhackable,” he said.

  “Nothing is unhackable. I know,” Europa countered. “If you don’t believe me, ask Tanaka-san.”

  He shook his head. “That’s all the evidence you have? Until I see something more, I’m afraid it’s not enough.”

  Armstrong cocked an eyebrow. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, but she said nothing.

  “That’s your prerogative, of course,” Europa said. “I admit I could be completely wrong. I’m sorry if I offended. A man in your position should be careful and keep his mind open to the unpleasant.”

  He felt himself twitch. “Is that all, then?”

  She bowed. “With your permission, I will return to my brother on the bridge.”

  He nodded and watched her go. Tengu looked back at him, and to his complete surprise, followed Europa out.

  “That’s odd,” he said.

  “I’m with your cerberai. She’s got a point,” Armstrong said. “It don’ make much sense for Daedalus to attack you, does it? Why? What threat are you to it?”

  “None. Still, the evidence suggests it is the only possibility.”

  “Unless she’s right about Agent Khepria.”

  “You met her, she didn’t seem to be an agent of our enemies. I didn’t get that impression at all, and Setha would have told me to watch out for her if she was.”

  Armstrong stroked her chin. “So if that ain’ what happened, what did?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And that’s why her advice makes sense. What would it hurt to lay low an’ wait?”

  “My people have just suffered a great tragedy. They need me.” He sighed.

  “They need leadership, but it don’ have to be you just yet. Besides, someone else has just declared himself their leader, right?”

  Ichiro glared at her. “My uncle? He’s a traitor. You’re not suggesting I allow him to continue in that role? There’s no way. Leaving him in control would legitimize his deal with Zháo. I can’t allow that.”

  Armstrong cocked her head to the side for a moment, then nodded. “I can see that, yeah. How about Tanaka? He’s the next highest ranking to y’all, right?”

  He opened and closed his mouth once before responding. “And my father did trust him.”

  She nodded.

  “I guess it could work, but—”

  “I don’ envy you,” she cut in. “You got a lot of tough choices ahead, but maybe Freakshow Part One there does have a point.”

  “What?”

  “It’s what I call those two—never mind. The advice is sound. It’s what I’d do, for what it’s worth.”

  “You don’t think Nero or Agent Khepria had anything to do with this, do you?” The thought chilled him.

  “No, not Nero, and that’s not the sense I get about her either, but somethin’ happened on that ship. Until we know what did…” she shrugged.

  “Keep our options open. Right.” He nodded. “That’s some pretty sound advice. My father would’ve said the same.”

  Her cheeks turned ruddy. “Don’ go flatterin’ a girl now. You might give me the wrong idea.”

  He blinked, feeling his own cheeks flush. “Ah, yes. Well, I’m headed up to the bridge.”

  “See you there.” She bowed.

  Ichiro entered the bridge just as the ship exited the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. Placed in the fore-section of the ship, the oval chamber lacked gravity, and he floated in through the iris of its bulkhead door. The la
rge crescent of the captain’s chair, presently occupied by Tanaka-san, sat at the center of a balcony overlooking a spearhead-shaped pit. The terminals within were half-occupied by men and women in Shiragawa SDF uniforms. In the center of the consoles a large holographic projector displayed a tactical map displaying six orbital rings and a golden star that Ichiro recognized as his home system. His eyes could not help but look to the second orbital where his home, which should have been marked by a bright blue dot, was black. He shivered and closed his eyes for just long enough to steady his emotions.

  The twins were already here, seated in small chairs to either side of Tanaka-taisa. They leaned over and gave him a nod with their blond heads.

  “My lord.” Tanaka unstrapped himself from the command chair so he could bow by holding on to its armrests. “Welcome to the bridge. As you can see we’ve just arrived and are waiting for the tactical computer to analyze the situation.”

  Ichiro stopped himself on the balcony’s railing and held on. Tengu, wearing magnetic bands just above his paws, padded onto the bridge behind him. Armstrong followed after, arresting her forward momentum as he had. He nodded at her, then looked up at the display as it filled in details about the space around them. The positions of the defense satellites would be hidden from them until they received the ship’s IFF, but the major installations on the various moons and planets would be revealed as soon as the computer parsed out their signals from the background radiation.

  “Do you care to send out a greeting message to the surviving colonies?” Tanaka asked in an even tone that reminded him of Mamiya-san’s demeanor.

  He used the railing to turn his body just enough to look at the twins. They met his gaze with even, passive expressions but he could feel their tension, and knew they were waiting to see if he would take their advice or not. He licked his lips and turned to the plated wall of the dome enclosing the bridge.

  “Can we get a view of the stars?” he asked.

  “Of course, my lord.” A moment after Tanaka-san’s response the plates of the dome shifted and slid back in an arc that unveiled the starscape from the edge of the operations terminals to a point above the captain’s chair.

  “Thank you,” he said, staring out through the transparent polymer between them and the void. He took in a deep breath and let it out through his mouth. “I think I’ll wait for now and see the situation before addressing my people.”

  The twins both smiled, and he felt their approval. It pained him. He knew they were right from a tactical standpoint, but this felt immoral. He should be giving his people hope, stability,, not leaving them in the dark.

  “Very good, my lord,” Tanaka-san said with a gleam in his eye. Apparently he was also on board for the wait-and-see plan.

  “Hail the colonies, though. Address them as captain of this ship. I want to know their statuses.” Ichiro pressed his lips together, recalling the countless tactical and strategy classes his father put him through. “The Taiumijin are a people with a warrior past, and so their leader must be a warrior born and bred,” he said. At the time Ichiro resisted the lessons, but now the need was more than apparent.

  “Channel open. Attention all SDF and civilian installations of the Taiumikai system. This is Tanaka Kenji, Captain of the TSDS Kageryū-maru, acting on behalf of the Shiragawa leadership,” he said with a nod at Ichiro. “Please report your status on this channel.”

  “Thank you, Tanaka-taisa.”

  “The first of the colonies will receive the message in 58.1 minutes,” Tanaka reported.

  “All right. I’ll—”

  The sharp pinging of an alarm cut him off. He gave Tanaka a confused look, then faced the holographic display. Red and green dots now speckled the space around the system, all clustered around the inner three planets. He interfaced with the ship’s computer and the information flowed into his implant.

  “We have hostiles in the system?”

  “Yes, my lord. The computer just identified their radiation and IFF signatures,” Tanaka said. “Their signals identify them as Yulong Gongsi forces. Radiation signatures classify them as Skellys-class cruisers, support craft, and Star-Raptor-class aerospace fighter-bombers.”

  Ichiro’s mouth went dry. Yulong Gongsi space was hundreds of light-years away. In order for them to have arrived so quickly they must have already been en-route, or been waiting to attack in nearby space. That they were here, killing his people, meant they were allied with Zalor, or Daedalus, or had an agenda of their own. He couldn’t know which right now, but there was one person on board who might. He gritted his teeth. His uncle would have a lot to answer for, but it would have to wait. He did a quick run-down of the colonies in the system and picked out the most populous.

  “Set a course for the Hoshimori colony and power up the AlCas drive,” he ordered. “I want all weapons and aegis fields ready as well.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Tanaka answered.

  Armstrong gave him a grim-faced nod. Tengu snorted, staring straight ahead at the holographic display. It zoomed in on the inner-most planet in the system.

  “Here, you should have this,” Europa said, unstrapping herself from her seat. She pushed off it and floated to the railing.

  “No, my lord, please take mine.” Tanaka got out of the captain’s chair and moved over to occupy the seat Europa vacated.

  “Don’t you need to control the ship from there?” he asked.

  “My lord, I am a CEL. I can control the ship from anywhere. The command chair is where you belong.” Tanaka strapped himself in and bowed his head.

  After a moment he pushed himself over to the large crescent seat. He used its armrests to lever himself into place, and its restraint harness flowed over his body. His vision filled with translucent readouts showing him the ship’s status, heading, and targeting systems. Everything he needed to direct the battle was right there in front of him. He need only will it and the ship would do as he commanded. It was a heady feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. He had training, but this would be his first real battle. He felt his stomach churning like a school of fish.

  Tengu barked, and looked up at him with firm, glowing-green eyes. A sense of confidence flowed from them to fill his body.

  I can do this, he thought.

  “My lord, all aerospace drones report ready status. All weapons batteries and missile crews report ready,” Tanaka said.

  “All right. Let’s—”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Enéas said.

  “—but isn’t it customary to make a speech before battle?” Europa finished.

  Armstrong nodded. “It is.”

  Ichiro licked his lips. “Okay. Patch me into the ship’s intercom system.”

  “Done,” Tanaka-san said.

  He took three breaths, collecting his thoughts. The captain’s seat allowed him to see both the tactical display and the people working under it. All eyes were fixed on him. This was his first battle-speech, his first speech at all, he realized. He had to make it good. He wrapped his hand about the hilt of Hoshinagi and stilled his mind.

  “Crew of the Kageryū-maru, this is Mitsugawa Ichiro. As you all know, thirteen-days ago our home was attacked for reasons beyond our understanding. The enemy struck us hard, it is true, killing many Taiumijin without warning. The enemy, and those without honor who ally with them, now seek to take advantage of our supposedly weakened state and finish us off once and for all. What they do not realize is that they have awakened a sleeping dragon. They will not find the people of Taiumikai to be cawed by their cowardly strike, but will find us full of resolve and ready to avenge our families and loved ones. We will show them that a wounded dragon is far more dangerous than they ever could have imagined. Today we will show them that the will of our people can never be broken. Today we bloody our claws on with the corpses of our enemies. Today we show them that those who seek to destroy the Taiumijin will reap only sorrow and regret. We will show the galaxy that the Taiumijin are courageous, strong, and eternal. Battle-station
s! Bonzai! Bonzai! Bonzai!”

  He cut the transmission, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I think—”

  “Good speech,” Armstrong said before he could speak more. She raised her thumb to him.

  “We agree,” Europa said.

  “Good speech.” Enéas nodded.

  “Well done, my lord.” Tanaka stated. The battle-station alert blared over the ship’s speakers. “AlCas jump in five, four, three, two, one—”

  The stars became a spiral of twisted starlines around the ship and vanished in a flash of blue-green radiation. The armored plates slid back over the transparent viewport, and the tactical display was replaced by a countdown clock showing four seconds and nine-AU until their destination. It counted backwards until both numbers reached zero, and the Kageryū-maru appeared in a burst of Cherenkov radiation near the innermost planet of the system.

  “Aegis up,” Tanaka-taisa reported. “Acquiring targets.”

  The tactical display blinked and came back showing the planet of Hoshimori off to one side, a blue triangle representing the Kageryū at its center, and a host of red and green dots in a swarm around them.

  “Launch fighters and engage the enemy attacking the colony. Target the nearest hostiles and have the Kageryū provide support to our ships,” Ichiro said. His heart was racing. He could barely feel his sweat-soaked palms. This was it, he spent hundreds of hours in simulators learning tactics and strategy from the time he was a boy, but this was his first true battle.

  “Yes, my lord. Issuing orders.”

  The air on the bridge filled with the chunk-chunk sounds of the magnetic catapults firing delta-shaped, Tetsutaka-class drones out of the Kageryū’s eight launch tubes. The space between the bridge and the first habitat torus became a cloud of swarming fighters that, like a flock of birds, gathered together before darting off as one in a long, bent line.

  “Drones away,” Tanaka reported. “Three Skellys-class cruisers detected in geosynchronous orbit of the main colony. We seem to have caught them unawares.”

  “They may also be wondering how it is a capital-class vessel is this close to a planet without crashing,” Enéas added.

  “Don’t let them have an opportunity to react. Target them with all weapons batteries and open fire,” Ichiro said.