by Alex Kings
Sorrel sighed. He was about to speak when he was interrupted by Yilva.
Yilva had been talking to Vyren over the comms, exchanging frequent, short, fast comments in Isk about the work. Now she all but bounced out of bed. “Got it!”
“What?” said Hanson.
She held out her tablet. “I decrypted it. The ship's database. And …” She skimmed through it. “There is somewhere it has been visiting a lot recently.”
Hanson looked at it. This could be it! IL's base of operations …
Before he could go further, the comm chimed. “Lanik to Hanson.”
“Hanson here. What is it?”
“We've just got an alert from Sol. The SIS headquarters has just been attacked.”
Hanson went cold. “Status?” he asked. “Do they have the artefact?”
“No, sir. The attack was unsuccessful. But …” Lanik paused. “Hold on a moment, sir. We're getting another update.”
Chapter 58: Obsessive
Ten seconds after a shuttle on a collision course was shot down in front of the SIS headquarters, expert systems throughout the building had classified the event, found the appropriate response as specified by official SIS classified policies, and begun prep work. Any such course of action would have to be signed off by real humans – the senior staff – of course, but that was little more than a formality.
Once such classified policy had been criticised by almost everyone who learned about it, but through a combination of bureaucratic tangles and institutional inertia, had never been removed.
A shuttle was prepared: triple armoured, but inconspicuous. Tiers 1 and 2 of SIS assets, the most important and most highly classified were prepared for transport.
Elsewhere, Schwarz sat in a shuttle of his own in the docks, speaking into his comms.
“Status?” he asked.
“I've handed the car over,” said the voice on the other end. “I'm making my way back now.”
He checked his watch. “You've got four minutes. Make sure you're here in time. I won't delay the attack for you.”
“Understood.”
Schwarz cut the line and called up another.
“I have the car,” said the monotone synthesized voice of a Blank. It recited a series of positions to within the metre and times within the second.
It was all to Schwarz's satisfaction. “Go,” he said, then cut the line.
He set about checking his shuttle's grapple, making sure everything was in working order. He was, by nature, an obsessive man, and given the importance of this mission he couldn't afford to have a single thing go wrong.
A couple of minutes later the doors to the docks slid open, and a woman stepped through. She glanced around, looking hurried and slightly anxious, then saw his shuttle and ran over.
Schwarz opened the door for her. Once she was inside, she breathed a sign of relief and checked her watch. Schwarz closed the door without speaking and went back to checking the grapple.
In the main dome, the triple-armoured shuttle, fully loaded with cargo, emerged from its berth and took to the air. To anyone watching, to anyone not in the know, it looked like any other vehicle.
The second Blank sat in an ordinary car, six articulated wheels firmly on the ground. Hand hovering an inch above a button on the control panel, it watched the shuttle approach.
The shuttle reached its closest approach, three metres above the car, and two metres to the side.
The Blank hit the button.
Inside the car, a collection of sixteen microfusion reactors, engineered into shaped charges, overloaded simultaneously.
The car came apart. An expanding shock of plasma hit the armoured shuttle before anyone nearby had time to react to the noise, and kicked it at well over 200kph into the nearest building. Already half-melted, the shuttle tore open.
Schwarz felt the kick of the explosion through the shuttle. The wall separating the docks from the main dome lit up blinding white for an instant, fading quickly to red. A moment later it crumpled and folded like hot wax.
He kicked the shuttle into action. With the wall collapsed, he could fly straight through into the main dome without having to break through it.
The other side was a firestorm, a hellscape. Little real fire, but everything stone and metal was glowing red. The dome had been punctured in a dozen places, and air still whistled past as the burned healing mechanisms struggled to work.
Schwarz ignored it and flew onwards.
The epicentre of the blast was nearby unrecognisable. The block had been flattened. There was nothing but glowing rubble and shrapnel. The air outside was still hot enough to boil water. It was impossible to see his prize.
Another tiny fragment of Ancient technology in the shuttle sensed the presence of an ally and began to call out. The shuttle's systems listened to it, and gave the directions to Schwarz.
There. Amongst the rubble, he saw saw the opened carcass of the armoured shuttle. It was the only thing around here that had retained any semblance of its original shape. And lying by its side, entirely unharmed, was the Ancient artefact.
Schwarz lowered his shuttle over the artefact and picked it up with the grapple.
Now they just needed to escape. The element of surprise was on his side – especially as it manifested as a gigantic fireball. But he'd already have attracted attention by flying right for the epicentre. He guessed he had less than a minute to get out before someone in orbit got suspicious and either shot down him or his ride.
“You there?” he called over the comms.
The luxury liner replied quickly, “Descending now.”
Schwarz flew upwards and punched through one of the sheets of smart matter covering a breach in the dome. As soon as they were in the open air of Mars, he accelerated straight upwards as fast as the shuttle could handle.
On the sensors, he saw the liner plunging down through the atmosphere to meet him.
Shuttle and liner levelled out their respective ascent and descent, and met about twenty miles above the surface. Schwarz flew the shuttle into an open bay behind the liner and came to halt.
The liner began to pull upward again. Schwarz could hear its jump engine charging. He glanced at the shuttle's rear view, which looked out through the open hole they'd flown into, and showed the rapidly receding Martian surface.
A boom echoed through the liner and the shuttle. The view of the surface shuddered.
Someone had finally clued up. They were being fired on. Another boom, then another. Three in quick succession. Knuckles white, Schwarz gripped the arms of his chair.
The Alliance navy versus a single luxury liner. They couldn't take much of this. He watched as a molten piece of the hull tumbled back behind them. The liner shuddered again. Their ascent slowed.
The entire liner groaned. Schwarz felt something tugging on his insides. Mars distorted suddenly, like it was viewed through a fisheye lens, as it contracted to become the view back through the wormhole they'd just exited. The wormhole vanished, leaving an empty starfield.
Schwarz sat back and sighed with relief. They had the artefact, and they were safe.
Chapter 59: Engage Immediately
The update came on the bulkwave soon after.
Robinson City had been attacked. Four hundred dead, close to a thousand injured. Fortunately, the dome, though punctured, was intact.
But the Ancient artefact had been lost.
Hanson had insisted on leaving sickbay as soon as the news had come through. Now he sat in front of his tablet while Admiral Chang gave him the details.
“How was this possible?” he said at last.
Chang sighed. “Interstellar Liners had contracts at the highest levels of the military. Philip Pierce himself was a close friend of dozens of people in key positions. We knew he had detailed knowledge of our operations … but with IL gone, there just wasn't enough time to fix it all.” He spread his hands. “We're even having trouble repairing our ships fast enough without IL.”
&
nbsp; “Well, then,” said Hanson. “We have one last chance. We think we may have uncovered the location of IL's new base of operations. It's six hours away.”
Chang checked the details Hanson sent. “You're the closest ship, human or Tethyan,” he said.
Hanson sighed. “And we're racing against the clock. Again.”
“It looks that way,” said Chang. “But you said you have a Tethyan battleship with you?”
“Yes, sir. And we've already destroyed most of Pierce's heavy dreadnoughts.”
“Then it seems to me that you have enough firepower to easily overwhelm Pierce's forces. At least until he gets his hands on another Ancient ship. If the battleship is willing to accompany you, engage immediately.”
“Yes sir,” said Hanson.
*
By the time they reached the reconnaissance stop six light years away, Hanson had returned to the CIC. Aside from the occasional twinge, he was fine.
The sight through the long range telescope reassured him. No measly lone station around this star: Several dozen human ships moved in formation – luxury liners, frigates, research vessels – along with a collection of larger stations and weapons platforms. Nearly everything IL had taken was there. The whole arrangement bustled with activity.
It wasn't something he'd want to go into alone. But with the monopole cannon, and with the Firmament by his side, those ships posed no match for him.
“Prepare a precision jump,” he said. “We go simultaneously with the Tethyans. We'll flank them: The Dauntless goes in ahead of the orbital curve, the Tethyans go behind.”
The Admiral seemed happy to let Hanson direct the operation, and assented to the attack pattern.
“Jump,” ordered Hanson.
Chapter 60: All of Them
Pierce stepped out of the Oracle's room, breathing deeply. He felt, once again, energised, powerful, willing to take on the whole galaxy. The Mars raid had been a success! He'd gone straight to the Oracle with the good news, and it had finally rewarded him.
Smiling to himself, he stopped by his window and looked out at the stars.
Still no ideas for constellations.
He pulled himself away from the window and went to his desk. There was no reason to let that get him down now. Once he was settled in his leather chair, he called up their most recent arrival: An Albascene ship.
“Arka,” he said. “I trust you're settling in well?”
Arka nodded. His eye was growing back quite nicely. “Good operation you have here, Pierce,” he said, almost begrudgingly. Then he grinned. “I hear you've had your own success.”
Pierce nodded.
“Then all we need do is wait a little longer, and then watch as our enemies fall before us,” he said with evident glee.
“Effectively, yes.”
“Good. I'm sick of the Tethyans.”
“How is Eulen doing?”
Arka laughed. “Cowering! You said he was an assassin?”
“We've had many successes with him.”
“Hah. Likes to hide in the shadows. Now he's lost his cover, he's shy!”
“I'm sure he'll come around,” said Pierce. “He became our man for the extra pay. Once he realises we're offering power and prestige beyond anything he could imagine, he'll be fine.”
Arka responded with a non-committal grunt. Likely he didn't really care what Eulen did.
“I won't keep you,” said Pierce. “Soon the universe will be ours.”
He hung up and went to the bookshelf. After a momentary longing glance at the window, he averted his eyes and went to select a book.
He was just in the process of taking one out when his tablet blared. Not its normal sound – the special this is urgent and requires immediate attention sound.
Leaving his book behind, he strode across the room and picked up the tablet. “What is it?”
Millicent was on the other end. She spoke hurriedly but clearly: “Two ships have just jumped in, flanking us. One's a Tethyan battleship. The other … it's the Dauntless.”
All of Pierce's cheer and confidence drained out of him. He didn't show it: Always act the leader, even in the worst situations. Especially in the worst situations.
“Level one escape procedures,” he said, gesturing at the tablet to switch the channel to an audio system in his collar. Walking across the room, he kept going. “Prepare the decoys. All of them. Set timer for one minute. Tell our man to change course and keep heading corewards. And you, Millicent, meet me in Airlock Three thirty seconds before that. Start countdown now.”
“Yes, Mr. Pierce,” said Millicent. A moment later, a shipwide alarm started warbling.
Pierce cut the channel. In the Oracle's room, he grabbed the ragged artefact and shoved it in a leather bag. Not the most dignified method for his mentor, but he was sure it wouldn't mind.
He paused for a fraction of a second, looking around his room. Once again, he had to leave his life behind in pursuit of his goal.
But there was no choice. He went for the door.
*
Aboard the Dauntless, Hanson studied the command console.
None of the ships had moved against him, apart from an automated weapons platform which he had quickly destroyed. So far, in fact, there had been no sort of coherent response at all.
To a degree, it was to be expected. The Dauntless had jumped in less than a minute ago. It was likely that many of the people had been taken off guard and were still scrambling to put together a response. Hanson waited, but he remained alert, in case there was a surprise move against them.
His initial hail was still being broadcast on repeat: “This is Captain Hanson of the SAV Dauntless. You're surrounded and outgunned. Stand down immediately.”
Alongside it, the Tethyans offered a pithier version: “Surrender or be destroyed.”
He could, of course, just start shooting. But as a matter of principle, he didn't want to turn this into a bloodbath unless he had to. That wouldn't concern the Tethyans so much, not when it came to Ancient technology, but there was another more strategic reason for holding fire. Some of these ships and stations might hold valuable intel. If they were destroyed, it could be lost.
“We've got activity,” said Dunn. “Readings indicate they're charging jump engines.”
“Which?” asked Hanson.
“All of them.”
Twenty-eight ships.
A tiny smile curled Hanson's lip as he realised what was going on.
Gazelle strategy. Faced with a superior hunter, everyone runs together. Someone will certainly die. You just have to cross your fingers and hope that the lion will target one of your friends, giving you time to escape.
In which case, it was just a game of chance now.
Hanson spoke quickly: “Target the most powerful ships first. One with the monopole cannon, one with the lasers, one with the kinetics, one with nukes. Fire at will.”
*
Simultaneously:
A chaos of staff running back and forth down the corridors. Pierce found Millicent waiting for him at the airlock. His bag caught her eye.
“Go, go,” he told her in a calm but urgent tone, ushering her into the ship. He followed, and the airlock closed behind them.
He checked his watch as they moved down the corridor.
Time for one last message.
“Arka,” he said over the comms.
“Pierce!” roared the Varanid. “What is going on?” He would be on the station now, away from his ship and not assigned an escape protocol. “What is going on?”
“A hitch,” said Pierce. “That's all. Now listen carefully. I don't have much time. We will come for you, I promise you. Try to stay alive. But in return, I need you to destroy the computer cores on that station.”
Arka snarled. “Fuck you, Pierce.”
Pierce's voice went cold. “I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that is just an unguarded outburst. I'm sorry that there is no time for you to escape, but you can still make
it through this. If you do as I say.” He cut the channel without waiting for a response.
In the background came the rising hum of the jump engine spinning up.
Millicent, standing beside him in the corridor, hugged herself nervously. She was scared, confused, uncertain, but still she followed him. Pierce appreciated that.
The ship finally undocked with a clang. A moment later came a voice over the comms. “Prepare for jump. All hands, prepare for jump.”
Pierce closed his eyes and calculated the chance he'd survive the next fifteen seconds.
*
Simultaneously:
Arka stared at the tablet he'd been speaking to. After a moment, he hurled it against the wall.
The sapphiroid didn't break, but the tablet ricocheted off the wall with a sharp crack, then tore into a boxy piece of human furniture on the far side of his quarters.
“Bastard!” roared Arka. “Underhanded, conniving, verminous, slimy, manipulative bastard!” Each word he emphasised with a punch to the door. On the final bastard, the door tore open entirely and fell open into the hall.
Arka closed his eye and gave deep rumbling growl from deep his his throat. Deep in his heart, he knew the truth: At this point, all he could do was hope Pierce did come back for him. So the only sensible option was to continue doing as Pierce wished.
His eye shot open suddenly.
The signal from the human vessel. It was Hanson, wasn't it?
Hanson had survived!
Maybe, Arka thought to himself, he would actually get a chance to kill Hanson, even if he couldn't stop the Tethyans.
He'd just have to be smart about it.
Chapter 61: Attack
Twenty-eight ships.
Silvery threads lanced into two of them, destroying them before they could even activate their engines.
