Galactar (Savage Stars Book 3)

by Anthony James

  “No TV crew,” said Burner.

  Recker didn’t answer. His eyes were on one man only. Fleet Admiral Thaddeus Solan was tall and slender, his age indeterminate. For a time, Solan and his officers chatted to some of the technicians. Heads were nodded sagely and fingers pointed at places of interest.

  “Feels unreal,” said Eastwood.

  “Only if you let it, Lieutenant.”

  At last, the visiting party drifted towards the place Recker was standing. Determined he wouldn’t wait meekly, he strode across to meet the approaching group. Aside from Solan, Recker identified numerous faces he recognized – those who had long ago thrown in their lot with the fleet admiral and who now had everything to lose.

  When he was close enough, Recker saw that Solan hadn’t visibly aged at all, though his unnaturally pale skin was possessed of an unlined tightness that suggested he took one of the multitudes of available drugs which could slow the onset of aging. The fleet admiral’s green eyes were piercing, his dark hair thick, his cheekbones high and his mouth thin-lipped. He looked every inch the patrician, though a striking appearance meant nothing. In fact, Recker had absolutely no idea how this man had managed to attain leadership of the HPA military at the most critical time in the history of humanity.

  The group stopped in front of Recker and spread out in a semi-circle. It could have been a way to ensure that no words went unheard in the din of the bay. To Recker, it seemed like they hoped to intimidate him. He’d faced down worse and didn’t flinch.

  “Captain Recker,” said Solan, speaking first. His voice was cool and studiously neutral. “It has been a long time.”

  “Yes, sir. It has.”

  “I keep myself updated on your progress. You have exceeded the expectations of many.”

  “What would the universe be without surprises?”

  “A far safer place, I’m sure.” Solan raised his head and studied the underside of the Vengeance. “This is to be our saviour?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “You did well to bring it home, Captain Recker. It is not just the citizens of the HPA who are grateful.” Solan’s gaze dropped and this time it speared into Recker. “And not just the military either.”

  “I’m pleased to have the support of my superiors, Fleet Admiral.”

  “You can be assured of that.” Solan half turned. “Please,” he said, waving the members of his group a few paces further away. “I would like a moment to speak with Captain Recker.”

  The group shuffled back and Solan took a step closer.

  “Change is coming,” he said.

  Hearing the words repeated from this different source made Recker’s head swim. “What sort of change, sir?”

  “The military has failed in its duty to protect our citizens. As the leader of the armed forces, the blame for this sits squarely on my shoulders. I wish to learn. I have been learning.”

  Recker watched the other man’s face carefully, for contrition or perhaps a sign of the mask slipping. He saw neither.

  “We are losing the war, sir. This is not a good time for lessons.”

  “Oh but it is, Captain. This is the best time to learn. I am not a man accustomed to personal failure, nor to self-doubt. Recognizing them in myself has been difficult.” Solan raised an arm and swept it the full width of the bay. “Total war – at my request. Unlimited funding for the military. New hulls, new designs, new technology.” He lowered his voice. “Where did the impetus for this come?”

  “I know the answer you want to hear.”

  “And you won’t say it?”

  “Had this happened two years ago, sir. Hell, maybe even twelve months.”

  “You think it’s too late?” Again, Solan’s face showed no concern, like he was entirely disconnected from the subject at hand.

  “No, sir, I don’t think it’s too late. What I do think is that we’ve left ourselves a mountain to climb. And after the first mountain, there’s another behind it, potentially even higher and steeper.”

  “Then we will climb.” Solan’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “With my guidance, we will emerge from this stronger.”

  Recker didn’t want to commit an answer, so he kept his mouth shut and waited.

  “Not only have I failed myself and the military, but I have failed you, Captain Recker. As this war moves into a new phase, I would like to put our past behind us. The HPA requires the service of those who can give their all. Until recently, I had not understood that you were amongst those few.”

  “People like me are not so few, sir. If you look around, you’ll see them everywhere. In every warship, in every ground crew and in every support team.”

  “In which case, we might yet become victorious.” Solan tried what he might have thought was a conciliatory smile. “On this day, it is you in whom my greatest interest lies. You are a modest man, Captain Recker, yet tales of your deeds are becoming widespread. People are watching and listening. They are asking questions.”

  Recker played along. “What sort of questions?”

  “I have been asked by members of our Representation why an officer who has proven so resourceful commands only a destroyer in our fleet.”

  “And what answer did you give them, sir?”

  “I told them I would take a personal interest and see to it that your success is rewarded.”

  Despite himself, Recker was keen to hear where this was leading. A carrot was about to be dangled and he didn’t think it would be an out-of-shape, worm-ridden carrot of the kind dug up by the neighbour’s pet dog. This one was going to be juicy.

  “If you give me the tools, I will use them, sir.”

  “Tell me, Captain. Have you heard about the Terminus program?”

  Recker hid his confusion. “No, sir, I have not.”

  “It’s a fast-track construction program,” said Solan with a thin smile. “The first of our own heavy cruisers.”

  “We couldn’t design a whole new class of ship without everyone in the military hearing something about it, sir.”

  “Quite. Which is why we haven’t designed from the ground up.”

  “I’m interested,” said Recker truthfully.

  “I thought you might be,” Solan nodded. “Now, if you imagine a Teron class cruiser, with an additional layer of armour and another four billion tons of engine mass to bulk out the overall structure and increase the length to 2200 metres. After that, we fit some additional missile clusters and install twin push-pull processing cores, backed up by a switchable and isolated obliterator unit, in case the vessel is attacked by a core override.”

  Recker wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected hints of genuine enthusiasm in Solan’s words. He weighed up the basic tech specs in his head. “Maybe not enough to go one-on-one with a desolator, sir, but I’m impressed.” He meant it.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure our heavy cruisers will be outclassed, Captain.” This time the enthusiasm was unmistakeable. “The additional outer armour has been specifically designed to absorb the impact of a Terrus projectile – the plates crumple, leaving the surrounding armour, as well as the inner plating, unaffected.”

  “Meaning that the enemy are required to land two hits in exactly the same place to cause any kind of significant damage,” said Recker.

  “That’s the idea. It works in the modelling, but, as you’re aware, a simulation is no substitute for some real face-to-face battle testing. This is where you step in.”

  “You’re giving me command of a heavy cruiser?”

  “If you want it.”

  “Yes, sir. I am happy to accept.”

  “It is the only one in our fleet, thought more are planned if it performs to expectations. The best part is, we can convert an existing Teron cruiser in a third of the time it would take to build an entire new warship.”

  “That is good news, sir.”

  “We’ll defeat these Daklan bastards, Captain Recker. One way or another, we will show them what happens when they start a war with humanity.”

>   Since the destruction of planet Fortune, the Daklan had reduced their aggression significantly. In fact, they hadn’t forced a single engagement in the intervening weeks. To Recker, that seemed like an opportunity – not for war, but for peace. During the recent years in which humanity had been on the back foot, Fleet Admiral Solan had acted more like the HPA was at peace. Now the enemy might be open to discussion, he was talking a good fight.

  Recker had no idea how the man could so badly misjudge everything.

  “When will my command be finalised, sir?”

  “I wished to speak with you before I completed the signoff. Following this discussion, I am satisfied that I have chosen the right officer.” A glint appeared in Solan’s eye – a flash of nastiness which he hid at once. “They say that every man has his conceit, and I am no different.”

  What is he building towards?

  “For me, it is my son,” Solan continued. “A son who has given me cause for nothing but pride. Therefore, I felt no guilt or shame when I chose his name for the first of these new heavy warships.”

  Shit, no.

  “Therefore, Captain Recker, I give you command of the heavy cruiser Gabriel Solan. I trust you will use this weapon of war to bring death to our enemy and honour to the HPA. May you every day feel the same pride in your spaceship as I do in the man whose name adorns it.”

  With his piece said, Fleet Admiral Solan took a step back, not for a moment breaking his locked gaze. The gleam of nastiness was gone, hidden away and replaced by the same neutrality which the admiral had displayed throughout the conversation.

  Recker knew the malice was there and he didn’t let his eyes drop. His jaw wanted to clench, but he couldn’t give even that sign of weakness, so he held steady until Solan re-joined his officers. Here and there, one of them smirked knowingly, though not once in Recker’s direction.

  With simmering anger, Recker returned to where Aston and Eastwood were standing, their expressions both questioning and uncertain. Fleet Admiral Solan had pulled a masterstroke and Recker knew he’d been completely outmanoeuvred.

  Chapter Four

  Thirty minutes later, Recker was inside the same FTL comms station he’d used earlier. This time, he did experience guilt when he ordered out the same five people as had been queueing for a personal FTL comm slot earlier, especially when he noticed that the woman was next in line for a connection. Some things couldn’t wait and Recker told them to leave.

  He got comfortable and requested an FTL comm to Admiral Telar.

  “Your meeting is over?” said Telar when the link formed.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And?”

  “Did you know about it?”

  “The Gabriel Solan?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am involved in the signoff process for every new warship.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s only a name, Carl.”

  “You know damn well it’s not only a name, sir. Everything I accomplish will be associated with the warship.”

  “You could crash it into a planet at high speed and claim it was hardware malfunction,” said Telar mildly. “Or you might get shot down in the line of duty.”

  “Not with the Daklan holding fire, sir.”

  “Who mentioned the Daklan?”

  Recker’s ears pricked up. “A mission?” He had a sudden thought. “Does this mean I’m still under your direct command?”

  “Fleet Admiral Solan proposed a swap. One of his officers, for one of mine. I declined his request.”

  “I’m grateful, sir.”

  “Don’t be. I can’t allow my officers to fly only the easy missions, which would have undoubtedly been the result of your transfer to Fleet Admiral Solan’s command.”

  Recker could well enough picture those easy missions – delivering the finishing blow to already crippled Daklan warships and orbital bombardments of poorly-defended surface facilities, with every success exaggerated and spoon-fed to the waiting media, like they were war-defining victories. Played cleverly, everyone in the HPA would associate success with the name Gabriel Solan.

  “He’s preparing for a succession,” said Recker in sudden understanding.

  “I’m pleased I did not underestimate you, Carl,” said Telar.

  “Will the others in high command buy it?”

  “That is a question for another time,” Telar replied, shutting down this line of questions. “Anyway,” he continued. “The fleet admiral was not entirely pleased with my decision and he continues to press his case. Perhaps he will make it impossible for me to deny his wishes.”

  This was something Recker had no control over and it seemed pointless to repeat his preference on the matter, since Admiral Telar already knew it well enough.

  “So. A mission?”

  “Yes, Carl. A mission.”

  “You said it doesn’t involve Daklan?”

  “I didn’t say that. Not exactly.”

  “In that case, what?”

  “We’ll get to it.”

  “Why not just answer the question, sir?”

  “Because I choose otherwise,” said Telar without irritation. “Would I be right to think you are itching to be away from there?”

  “Yes, sir. As of today, I’m no longer required on the Vengeance. The technicians will shortly sever the last of the tie-ins and then the necessary dismantling work will be complete. I’ve granted security access to the lead techs, so they’ll be able to run tests on any of the remaining onboard systems.”

  “And they’ll be able to put it back together again as well.”

  “Are there plans for that, sir?”

  “There are always plans. Plans for everything.” As if to prove it, Telar lifted a cardboard folder into the comms unit’s visual arc. He held it there for a moment and let it fall to his desk. “We have spent much time investigating the data you pulled from the Lavorix Interrogator.”

  “You told me it was all blanks so far.”

  “That’s correct. We still have several ongoing missions to far-flung places which may yet discover signs of the Meklon and Lavorix civilisations. Other than that, we have all four deep space monitoring stations working flat-out to pinpoint locations which may bear fruit. Whatever that fruit might be. Eventually, we’ll find something.”

  “Eventually is too long. We lost a planet, sir.”

  “And the data shows that the Interrogator failed to extract coordinates of any other of our populated planets. Still, we are building evacuation spaceships capable of carrying billions of people, but it may be that they never see use.”

  “We should be prepared.”

  “Which is why the work continues.”

  “We should back off this search for alien weapons and focus on rebuilding, sir. We never expected to find the tenixite converter network in the first place.”

  “The cat is already out of the bag, Carl. What happens if the Daklan find a functioning converter? What if they stumble upon an abandoned landing field where a dozen warships like the Vengeance are stationed?” asked Telar, his voice rising. “What about others in the HPA who insist we continue our search? If humanity were to gain control over these alien weapons, we would defeat the Daklan, they say. The Representation constantly tells me that we must act first and quickest.”

  “Even with everything that’s happened, I can’t believe the HPA is split,” said Recker. “We should settle with the Daklan and forget about the Meklon and the Lavorix – at least until we’re ready to deal with what we might find.”

  “We cannot,” said Telar quietly.

  “Why not, sir?”

  “We have too many unknowns to allow us to sit back and hope for the best. What if another of our planets was destroyed by a depletion burst targeted from a place unknown? And what if a third followed it? By then whatever action we decided upon would be too late.”

  “Do you believe the Lavorix are actively hunting us?”

  “I do.”

  Recker
detected something else – a something which Telar was finding it hard to say. “There’s more.”

  “Yes, Carl, there’s more.” Telar sighed. He visibly got hold of himself and continued. “The Daklan lost several of their warships during a mission to locate parts of the tenixite converter network.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “A second cat escapes its confinement. I have a direct line of communication with a member of the Daklan war council. We exchange certain information.”

  There was only one way to ask the next question and that was bluntly. “Does Fleet Admiral Solan know you’re in contact with the Daklan?”

  “Let me keep that one to myself.”

  “Is this another new front in the war?”

  “It may become one. Now please – move on.”

  Recker didn’t press. “So the Daklan lost some warships.”

  “Not just any warships, Carl. These ones were carrying the coordinates for Lustre in their memory arrays.”

  “Just Lustre or do the Daklan know about more of our planets?” asked Recker sharply.

  “My relationship with Admiral Ivinstol does not yet extend to an open exchange of military secrets.”

  “Except about the loss of their warships.”

  “This is something different. It might affect both the HPA and the Daklan equally.”

  “Then what are you planning to do about it, sir?”

  “The mission.”

  “Find out what happened to the Daklan ships and discover if they ran into another Interrogator?”

  “That is the core of the mission. Clearly we require someone who is capable of identifying and acting upon any opportunities which may present themselves.” Telar smiled without humour. “Someone who has the respect of the Daklan.”

  “Why…?” Recker stopped himself before he went any further. “A joint mission?”

  “That’s right. A single HPA warship and a single Daklan warship. Together, you will discover what happened to these missing Daklan ships and handle whatever comes after.”

  “Why only two ships?”

  “I’m sure you can guess the reason.”