Superdreadnought- The Complete Series

by C H Gideon

  He was supposed to be on his way home to a hero’s welcome and a nice warm berth in the Medusa shipyards. The thought of seeing the Queen after all this time made him feel like a star-struck teen—or at least what he assumed a star-struck teen would feel like. He could lay his victory and his spoils at her feet and have a well-earned rest. Then he would head out into the void again, doing what he was built to do: burn Kurtherians from the skies.

  Instead, he was stuck here in the middle of nowhere, trying to find his way home like a lost puppy. Hardly the victorious return he’d anticipated. He stomped around the circumference of the bridge, glaring at every crew member he passed.

  He stopped at Navigation. “Anything?” he growled.

  Geroux looked up, wide-eyed. She’d grown used to Reynolds’ quirks, but she’d never seen him prowl like a caged animal before. It made her nervous.

  “Leave them alone, Reynolds,” Jiya said, coming to her friend’s rescue. “They can’t get anything done if you’re pouncing on them every three minutes and twenty-seven seconds.”

  “It was three minutes and twenty-two seconds this time,” Tactical said. “He’s slipping.”

  “Fine!” Reynolds threw up his hands. “Jiya, you have the conn. Call me when you figure it out.” He stomped off the bridge.

  “Reynolds to the bridge.” Comm’s voice echoed through the ship.

  Reynolds, passing the door to the bridge for the fifty-seventh time, turned and stormed in. “Did you do it? Where are we? Have you laid in a course for High Tortuga?”

  Asya held up both hands. “We can’t answer all those questions at once.”

  “Sure, you can,” Reynolds said, throwing himself into the captain’s chair. “The answers are yes, here, and yes.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Jiya said.

  “Why not?” Reynolds asked, his voice quiet and deadly.

  “Because—” Jiya started, but Takal stepped forward.

  “We have located our current position in relation to the Chain Galaxy.” The old man looked at the android. “You aren’t going to like this.”

  “Just tell him already!” Tactical moaned. “Stop drawing it out like the previews to a reality TV show!”

  Takal gave Reynolds a blank look.

  Reynolds waved a hand, telling him to ignore the other AI personality and continue.

  The scientist nodded at his niece. She activated the big screen to show a familiar starscape and a picture of the SD Reynolds. “This is Dorayas. We believe some unknown component in the Dorayas solar flare interacted with the Gate drive at the moment of jump.” Lines flashed out from the depiction of Dorayas and hit the simulated Gate, causing it to spin. “It didn’t actually spin. That’s artistic liberty.” Onscreen, the ship sailed into the spinning Gate and zinged around like a pinball. “It multiplied the effect of the Gate technology, throwing us farther than expected.”

  “I’m so glad you took the time to design these lovely graphics,” Reynolds ground out, his teeth clenched in an effort to keep from screaming. “But where the fuck are we?”

  Takal flicked his fingers, and the view zoomed out. A green arrow appeared, pointing to Dorayas. “As you can see, this is where we were.” The screen zoomed out again. The arrow stayed the same size, but the Dorayas system shrank until it was a miniscule point in a fuzzy cluster of white: the Chain Galaxy. “This,” a blue arrow appeared on the left side, pointing to a spiral of stars. “Is where we were trying to go. The Devon system. And this—” The screen zoomed out and out until the two galaxies were a tiny smudge in the top-right corner of the screen. A red arrow appeared in the bottom-left corner. “This is where we are.”

  Chapter Two

  The crew stared at the screen in silence.

  “That…we…what?” Asya spluttered.

  “Are you saying we’re a billion light-years off course?” Reynolds asked, his voice deadly quiet.

  “One-point-zero-two-six-five-billion light-years, to be exact,” Takal said. “Well, not exact, but more precise.”

  “The margin for error is about—” Navigation began.

  “At this distance, I think Takal’s estimate is close enough,” Reynolds said. “At our current maximum Gate distance, it’s going to take a hundred thousand jumps to get home.”

  “Unless we can replicate the multiplication effect!” Geroux said. “If we can figure out how that flare multiplied our distance, maybe we can work out a way to replicate it.”

  Takal nodded. “Gulg technology increases the distance we can communicate. Maybe we can use a similar process to increase our Gate distance.”

  “Great, get on that,” Reynolds said. “In the meantime, let’s start for home. Ensign Alcott, calculate the first jump.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ria said, jumping into her seat.

  While the crew reported status across the ship, Reynolds slumped in his chair. This delay would cost them years if Takal couldn’t figure out how to increase their reach. He felt a need to be home now.

  “Coordinates calculated and locked in,” Ria said.

  “Are you ready to proceed?” the XO asked.

  “Make it so,” Reynolds said, but this time he felt no pleasure at the words.

  “All systems are green. All hands confirmed at battlestations,” the XO said. “Activate the Gate, Ensign.”

  The Gate opened, and the ship sailed through the wormhole. Stars shifted as they entered the new reality.

  “How quickly can we go again?” Reynolds asked.

  “As soon as the next set of coordinates is entered,” the XO said. “Navigation, I hope you’ve started plotting those.”

  “Way ahead of you!” Navigation said. “I’ve got us plotted back to High Tortuga already. But unless you want to get lost again, I suggest we take the time to make sure we landed where we think we did.”

  “And did we?” Reynolds asked, adding a human-sounding sigh. As an android, he didn’t breathe, but he’d been experimenting with the non-verbal noises humans made.

  “Uh, no, sir,” Ria said, her voice shaking. “We’re only six light-years from our previous location.”

  “What? Why?” Reynolds jumped up from his seat, unable to stay still.

  “I don’t know why, sir,” Ria said. “But readings of the local stars show we only moved six light-years.”

  “Comm, get Takal back up here!” Reynolds snapped.

  “He’s on his way,” Comm said.

  “At six light-years per jump,” Navigation began, “returning to High Tortuga will take approx—"

  “Shut up!” the entire crew yelled.

  “I’ve started diagnostics on the Gate drive,” Takal said as he hurried onto the bridge, staring at a wrist computer. “It looks like micro-abrasions on the cerebral cortex impeded our Gate distance.”

  “Can we fix it?” Reynolds asked.

  Takal hemmed and hawed for a moment. “We can, but we’re going to need some materials we don’t carry on the ship.”

  “Maybe we can call for help,” Jiya suggested. “The Gulg might be willing to bring us what we need. Or transport it to us.”

  “Good idea.” Reynolds turned to Comm. “Get on the horn.”

  “I’ve already tried to contact Xyxl,” Takal said. “I thought he’d be interested in the modifications to the Gate drive. But we’re too far away to reach him.”

  “I thought Gulg tech was supposed to allow us to talk to anyone in the universe!” Jiya said.

  Takal grimaced. “That might have been a slight exaggeration. No one imagined we’d ever get this far away. I sent a message to Xyxl, but I predict it will take about three years to reach him.”

  “I’m picking up unusual signals,” Maddox said.

  “What kind of signals?” Reynolds asked.

  “I hope it’s some Kurtherian butt to kick,” Tactical, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, called.

  “I’m not sure,” Maddox said. “Putting it on speaker now.”

  A low keening filled the bridge,
curling the hairs on the back of Jiya’s neck. “What is that?”

  The moan slid up into a shriek.

  “That sounds like something being tortured,” Jiya said.

  “That’s what you said about my music,” Tactical muttered.

  “We’ve got incoming!” Jiya stabbed a finger at her screen.

  “We’re ready for them,” the XO said. “Gravitic shields at full power.”

  “Comm, try to make contact,” Reynolds said. “Ria, prepare to maneuver. Tactical, warm up the weapons systems.”

  “Railguns online,” Tactical said instantly. “Can I activate the ESD?”

  “No! Not yet,” Reynolds amended. “We’re in a galaxy we know nothing about. We won’t fire on anyone unless they fire on us first. And we never use the ESD as a first resort. Last resort only. Are you yanking my chain? If I had a chain, I’d think you were yanking it.”

  “Or if they’re Kurtherians,” Tactical stuck in.

  “If the Kurtherians have gotten this far, we’re in bigger trouble than we thought,” Reynolds said. “Report!”

  “We have three unidentified ships, sir,” Maddox said. “Two destroyer-sized chasing a smaller vessel.”

  “I’m getting a response from the smaller ship,” Comm said, “but the translators are having difficulty with the signal.”

  “The destroyers are firing!” Jiya said. “Hit!”

  The moaning through the speakers spiked into another shriek.

  “That’s coming from the smaller ship,” Comm said.

  “Is that the signal you’re trying to translate?” Asya asked.

  “No, that sound is coming from the ship itself,” Comm said. “I’m getting another signal from inside, presumably from the crew. Nothing from the attackers.”

  The ship screamed again, then the noise dropped to a whimper.

  “Another direct hit!” Jiya cried. “The smaller ship is not firing back. I-I think it’s hurt.”

  “Disabled?” Reynolds asked.

  “No, although it is slowing.” Jiya shook her head. “But I think that sound is the ship getting hurt. Destroyers are firing again—” The scream of the ship interrupted her.

  “I’ve got a translation. The smaller craft is sending a mayday!” Comm said. “Putting it onscreen.”

  “Tactical, get me a firing solution on those two destroyers,” Reynolds said. “I want them disabled the moment they’re in range.”

  “Wahooo!” Tactical howled. “Enemy targeted. They’ll be in range in ten…nine…”

  The viewscreen cleared, and a quadrupedal being appeared on the screen. Its head and shoulders were roughly humanoid, but its lower body resembled a lion. Bandages decorated its arm and both front legs, with a pale, silvery fluid leaking through. A long, thin tail whipped back and forth in apparent agitation.

  “This is Captain Xonera of the partnership Threfol. We are under attack! Terubine destroyers are injuring the Threfol. We require immediate assistance!”

  “Two…one. Destroyers in range!” Tactical cried. “Blasting those cockwombles from the skies!”

  “Targets at your convenience, Tactical,” Reynolds ordered. “Ensign, prepare for evasive maneuvers.”

  “Firing!” Tactical sang. Lasers lanced across the void, slamming into the destroyer’s shields. Light flared and sparkled.

  “Direct hit, but their shields are holding,” Jiya said. “The second destroyer is peeling off and heading toward us.”

  “Fire at will,” Reynolds said.

  “Eat hot lead, fuckers!” Tactical said. “I am the Avenging Angel of Death!” The railguns fired. Projectiles exploded against the bow of the ship, ripping through the shield like tissue paper.

  “Direct hit. Their shields are down,” Jiya reported. “Second destroyer is disengaging.”

  “That’s right, run away like a little girl!” Tactical said. “I will hunt you down!” The next blast ripped away the stern of the ship and its atmosphere vented, along with clouds of debris. The railguns pounded the fleeing ship, shredding it. “Eat that!”

  “Target destroyed.”

  “Ensign Alcott, bring us around to face the other destroyer,” Reynolds commanded.

  “Yes, sir! Coming around.”

  “Take them out, Tactical,” Reynolds said.

  “They are dust!” Tactical replied. “Die, die, die!” The lasers and railguns fired afresh, raining blast after blast onto the enemy.

  “Tone it down, Tactical,” Maddox said. “I can’t hear the reports.”

  “I think you can stop shooting now,” Jiya said. “They really are dust.”

  “That was too easy,” Tactical complained. “I need a real challenge.”

  “Comm, how can we understand their language?” Jiya asked.

  “Universal markers, standardizations, grammar that has a distinct pattern, and we’ve tapped their internal communications to give us a broad sample of language to decrypt. We might be missing some vocabulary, but overall, I’d say ‘good job’ to Reynolds on his masterful adaptation of this addition to our language database,” Comm replied.

  “You mean you?” Jiya wondered which Reynolds, or how much Reynolds, was involved in one thing over another. She didn’t have to worry about it since they all worked toward the same goal. She smiled and nodded toward comm, raising her coffee cup in a salute.

  “The alien ship is hailing us,” Comm said.

  The bridge of the other ship appeared on screen again. Silvery fluid leaked down the captain’s face from a gash on the temple. Smoke obscured much of the view, and the loud moans ramped up in volume.

  “Comm, can you turn down the crying?” Reynolds asked privately.

  “On it.” The moan faded to a barely audible undertone.

  “This is Reynolds, captain of the Superdreadnought Reynolds. Were those two destroyers the only enemy craft tracking you? We don’t see any others on our scans.”

  “They are brigands, Captain Reynolds,” the alien captain replied. “They hunt in pairs, stalking and attacking unwary travelers. They stake out territory and waylay all who cross their path. As such, we are unlikely to attract the attention of more in this sector. But Threfol is badly injured.” Behind the captain, smoke drifted, obscuring the other occupants. “We must return to Serifity so she can heal. I know not what others might accost us upon our journey.”

  “Just Reynolds, please,” the android said. He muted the connection. “Can they use our Pod-docs?” he asked Takal.

  The old man scratched his chin. “These creatures don’t appear to be energy beings like the Gulg. The system works for all of the corporeal species we’ve encountered so far, so I don’t have any reason to believe they wouldn’t.”

  Reynolds reactivated the audio. “We have technology on our ship that might help heal your crew, Captain Xonera. Would you like to send them over here?”

  The captain smiled a little. “Call me Xonera. You misunderstand me, Reynolds. My crew is only lightly injured. Our medical facilities are sufficient to tend to them. Threfol is our ship. She sustained grievous bodily harm at the hands of those ruffians and requires the succor of our medical establishment to recuperate from her wounds.”

  Reynolds turned to Comm. “Can you dial back the drama in the translator just a bit? I feel like I’m in a Shakespearean stage production.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Comm replied. Asya held her hands up in confusion at the terms Reynolds insisted on using that had no relation to anything she knew.

  “We find ourselves in a similar position, Xonera,” Reynolds told the alien. “Our ship also requires repair. Perhaps we can work out a mutually beneficial agreement. The Reynolds will escort you to your home planet if your people would be willing to help us find the materials we need for our repairs.”

  “We owe you our lives, Reynolds,” Xonera said, bowing deeply. “Anything within our power is yours. Of course, you understand I do not represent my government. But anything I can do for you personally, I will.”


  Jiya shook a finger at the tactical station. “Don’t even!”

  “That one was too easy,” Tactical said. “Not worth my time.”

  Reynolds shot a glare at both Jiya and the station. “Politics is politics everywhere in the universe. I understand that you can’t offer any promises, but I hope you’ll put in a good word for us. Now, is your ship able to proceed under its own power? Or do you require assistance?”

  The creature on the screen paused for a moment and placed a hand on a waist-high pedestal. “Threfol assures me she can make her way home. If you’d like to follow us, ‘tis not far.”

  Reynolds nodded. “Lead on, Xonera.” The screen went dark, and he turned to Ria. “Follow that ship.”

  “Aye, sir,” Ria responded. “We won’t be moving very fast. That ship is pretty badly crippled. Too bad we can’t tow them.”

  Reynolds shook his head. “We could if we have to, but it’s better this way. If there are more of those pirates around, I want to be agile enough to engage them if necessary. What’s our ETA?”

  “The nearest star system is about twelve hours away at this speed,” Maddox reported. “We’ve got nothing in the databases about these systems, of course. I see signs of civilization on three planets in the Goldilocks zone. All three are inhabited. The second one appears to have a higher-tech civilization. Lots of satellites, and two space stations with ships the size of Xonera’s in dock. The other two planets have fewer heat signatures.”

  “OK, folks,” Asya said. “Stay sharp. These long, boring transits are no time to fall asleep. Maddox, watch our long-range scans. We know there are pirates in the area. Ria, keep an eye on our new friends. Jiya, scan the ship, and get me as much intel as you can.”

  Tactical laughed. “Can I use asteroids for target practice?”

  “No!” Asya said. “Your drill is to not shoot anything. Let’s see how that goes.”

  Jiya turned to her screen. “Takal, you might want to take a look at this,” she said, pointing to her results. “According to the scans, the ship is partly alive! The skeleton is made up of common metals, with some alloys I don’t recognize, and it appears to be covered by silicon-based musculature. Xonera said the ship was injured, and she wasn’t kidding. Look at these areas.”