Galactar (Savage Stars Book 3)

by Anthony James

  “Got them, sir, and they are now entered into our navigational system.”

  Recker hauled back on the controls and the Axiom came to a halt. Straightaway, the ternium drive activation timer appeared and started counting down.

  “What’s our destination?” asked Recker.

  “Nowhere near anything,” said Eastwood. “Five days out.”

  “What’s the mission, sir?” asked Larson.

  “I’ll let you know once we’re at lightspeed,” said Recker. If he told them they were off to a rendezvous with a Daklan desolator, he risked them thinking he was a traitor.

  Then, he realized that Admiral Telar wouldn’t permit such a loose end to jeopardise the mission. If Larson and Fraser were here, it was because they were trusted. Even so, he kept the details quiet for the moment.

  “However, there’s one fact I will make clear before we jump to lightspeed,” said Recker, raising his voice. “If I hear anyone referring to this warship as the Gabriel Solan, I will have them incarcerated in the brig.”

  “This warship does not have a brig, sir,” said Larson.

  “In which case, I’ll order Sergeant Vance to shoot anyone who ignores my order and have the body ejected into space along with the waste from the septic tanks.”

  The expressions on Fraser and Larson’s face indicated they didn’t know if Recker was joking. He let them stew on it.

  When the ternium drive countdown reached zero, and without interference from Topaz station or the Divergence, the Axiom entered a high multiple of lightspeed.

  Chapter Six

  Once the post-transition status checks were complete, Recker played it straight.

  “We’re heading for a rendezvous with a Daklan desolator,” he said.

  The reactions of Fraser and Larson dispelled any doubts he might have had about their allegiances.

  “About time we settled our differences,” said Fraser. “Hell, the HPA’s been fighting for survival these last five years I reckon, and now with these new aliens blowing up our planets, it seems to me that we’re running out of road.”

  “I don’t think we’re friends with the Daklan yet, Lieutenant.”

  “It’s a start, sir,” said Larson. “The fact that this mission is happening means people on both sides are giving serious thought to the future. The Daklan lost a planet, we lost a planet. We’ve got to stop it happening again.”

  Recent events - from the Daklan attack on Lustre to the fact that the enemy had suffered in the same way as the HPA - had become widespread knowledge, so Recker wasn’t surprised to learn that these officers knew the background and had formed their own opinions.

  “What do you know about the Meklon and the Lavorix?” he asked.

  “Bits and pieces, sir,” said Fraser. “A bunch of aliens fighting it out with technology that’s in advance of our own.”

  “We believe the Lavorix used a network of tenixite converters – these are weapons which extract the energy from ternium ore and convert it into something called a depletion burst – to destroy both Fortune and the Daklan planet. We also believe the Lavorix are in the ascendency against the Meklon. Maybe they’ve already won.”

  “Are we treating the Meklon as allies, sir?” asked Larson.

  “I don’t think we can make that assumption, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “It would be in the best interests of the HPA and the Daklan if these new aliens just went away. But that’s not going to happen, so we’re obliged to deal with the situation.”

  “What’s the scope of the mission?” said Aston. “I assume we’re planning to do more than shake hands with a Daklan captain and return home?”

  “I don’t think even a handshake is on the cards just yet, Commander. The Daklan lost some ships. Their war council and our high command agree there’s a possibility they ran into another artifact like the Interrogator. If that turns out to be true, then we’ve got plenty to worry about.”

  Recker was hesitant to mention that the coordinates of planet Lustre were in the databanks of those Daklan warships and he waited to see if any of his crew would make the connection.

  “Lustre,” said Aston at once.

  Understanding dawned in the faces of the other crew members.

  “We can’t afford to lose another planet,” said Eastwood.

  “Even if it meant the Daklan potentially lost several more planets at the same time?” said Recker, trying to gauge the mood. “Those missing warships might hold location data for their entire civilization.”

  “I don’t know what I think,” Eastwood said. “I want the best for the HPA and I guess I don’t care too much what happens elsewhere.” He grimaced, like he wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “I’m not judging, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “I don’t think we can guess our future. What we can do is keep pushing. That doesn’t necessarily mean fighting – I mean we search for every opportunity and we make the best of them. It could be that this joint mission with the Daklan leads to something bigger. It might be that we need the Daklan’s help in order to survive, or it might be that they lose all of their planets to depletion burst attacks, leaving the HPA alone to face whatever’s coming.”

  “I never did like guessing games,” said Burner.

  “Then let’s stop playing,” said Recker, who had only a tentative appreciation of them himself. “Lieutenants Larson and Fraser – what can you tell me about the Axiom? I haven’t had time to check out the full technical specifications.”

  “We’ve got the same standard comms system that you’d find on a Teron class, sir,” said Larson. “The bulked-out hull required some repositioning of the sensor arrays and at the same time, the shipyard upgraded all the lenses and the processing units. Plus, the Axiom’s main cores have so much grunt between them, the sensors can scan further and faster than most ships in the fleet.”

  “A good start,” said Recker. “Lieutenant Fraser?”

  “The propulsion has enormous output, as you’ve already gathered,” said Fraser. “I’ve been reading up on the new armour design and it looks promising.”

  “It’s meant to soak up explosives and Terrus projectiles,” said Recker.

  “That’s the basic outline, sir. The intention is that the outer armour buckles and stays in place so that it still offers protection. We could take a few big hits and end up looking like we’re ready to fall apart when the reality is that we’re as tough as we ever were. That’s the theory, anyway.”

  “Somebody’s got to test that theory, Lieutenant,” said Recker, cracking his knuckles. “It might as well be us.” He pointed at Aston. “Your turn, Commander.”

  “Not much to tell you, sir. We’re fitted with eight Hellburner tubes and sixteen clusters of ten Ilstrom-6 missiles, which have a higher maximum velocity and slightly higher lock range than the Ilstrom-5s. Other than that, we have enough Type 2 Railer turrets to make a Daklan surface installation resemble a piece of cheese. That’s if they hadn’t just become our good buddies.”

  Recker wasn’t disappointed. He knew the realities of bringing new tech and weapons into service, and even switching the HPA’s entire society to total war wasn’t going to produce a new super-weapon as quickly as everyone would prefer. He was aware of numerous ongoing projects, none of which had evidently produced results fit for installation on the first of the military’s heavy cruisers.

  “We’ve got armour, missiles and countermeasures,” Recker said. “We should be able to soak anything this side of a depletion burst and emerge from the explosion with our weapons firing. As far as I’m concerned, that makes the Axiom a success.”

  “I agree with you, sir,” said Fraser. “And I didn’t mention the Daklan lightspeed missiles earlier, so I’ll tell you the destruction models indicate that their warheads should detonate between the outer and inner layers of armour. We’d lose the outer plating and end up with a big crater in the hull, but not enough to make a breach.”

  “I like it,” said Eastwood.

  “Yeah, it feels
good to be onboard a warship that isn’t going to break apart as soon as the missiles start flying,” added Burner.

  Recker felt it too. Although the Axiom wasn’t a technological masterpiece, it didn’t need to be. It was fast enough, tough enough and with large enough magazines to survive an extended campaign away from base. For this mission it might well be a near-perfect tool, given the options available.

  “So where are we heading after the rendezvous?” asked Burner. “Is this going to be another long journey?”

  “I don’t know where we’re going afterwards,” said Recker.

  “The Daklan haven’t told us?” said Aston in shock.

  “Nope. This is something we’re taking on trust.”

  “They haven’t earned any!” said Burner.

  “We’ve got to start somewhere and this is the time and the place.”

  Nobody disagreed – not out loud, anyway - and Recker spent another thirty minutes talking with his crew, to ensure that both Fraser and Larson were aware of the current information regarding the Meklon and Lavorix. They had some gaps in their knowledge, where the military was still trying to keep a lid on things, but nothing that Recker couldn’t fill in. Few secrets existed these days – when an entire planet was reduced to dust and twelve billion people died with it, there wasn’t any hope of keeping things under wraps.

  Once the crew’s questions had dried up, Recker headed for the mess area, ready to answer plenty more. Most of the soldiers stationed on the Axiom were here and he located Sergeant James Vance sitting at a table near the replicator.

  Vance seemed to have more good humour about him than usual, or maybe it was just because Recker knew him better.

  “Sir,” said Vance, almost smiling.

  “Sergeant,” said Recker, almost smiling in response. “Glad to have you back.”

  “I don’t think I ever left, sir.”

  “What do you know about this mission?” asked Recker, testing the waters.

  “Nothing more than I’ve been able to guess.”

  “Fly out, shoot some Daklan, fly back,” said Corporal Hendrix. She’d lost family on Fortune – more than most others - and it was obvious she was carrying a burden.

  “You’re right to say we’ll be flying out and flying back, Corporal. This time we won’t be shooting the Daklan. In five days, we’ll rendezvous with a modified desolator and we’ll head out in search of some missing Daklan warships.”

  “Does that mean the Lavorix are now public enemy number one?” Hendrix asked.

  “I think that’s the best way to describe it.”

  “The enemy of my enemy just became my friend,” said Private Ken Raimi.

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Recker warned. “This is the first tentative step. If it goes wrong, we might well be trading blows with that Daklan heavy.”

  “And we’ve got our own heavy to do it with,” said Raimi. “The Gabriel Solan – a tough son of a bitch, ready to pound the crap out anything that stands in its way.”

  Hendrix looked up from the table and squarely into Recker’s eye. “I heard they called it the Axiom, once. I think I prefer that. Feels right, rather than naming a mean-ass ship after a man who didn’t fire a gun in the last ten years.”

  Recker smiled at Hendrix and she smiled back.

  “I just came down here to let you know that things have changed,” he said.

  “What if we’re required for a surface mission, sir?” asked Vance.

  “It might happen,” said Recker with a nod. “I might need you to fight with the Daklan against a common enemy.”

  Vance sighed, leaned back and ran a palm over his buzz cut. “Things really are changing,” he said in acknowledgement. “Ride the wave or get pulled under.”

  Those two short sentences were enough reassurance for Recker. Vance and his squad would adapt to whatever circumstances they faced – it was how they’d survived the war for so long.

  “Hey, look on the bright side,” said Raimi, his face brightening. “I bet Drawl a week’s pay that we’d be propping up a Daklan bar sometime this year. Maybe I’m in with a chance of collecting.”

  “Good luck with it, soldier,” said Recker.

  He eased himself out of the gap between the bench and the table and stood. The smell of replicated food wasn’t enough to stimulate his appetite, so he exited the mess room in order to check out his quarters.

  A short distance from the mess, he was brought up short by a voice from behind.

  “Sir?”

  “Corporal Hendrix,” he said, recognizing the voice. He stopped and turned.

  She looked uncomfortable – strangely vulnerable, considering she was dressed in combat armour and carrying a gauss rifle.

  “I just wanted to thank you for keeping us all informed, sir,” Hendrix said defiantly, like it had taken an immense effort to speak. “Nobody says it, but we appreciate being treated like we’re more than dumb grunts.”

  “I remember how it is, Corporal,” said Recker. “I used to sit with my squad, playing the guessing games, while the senior officers kept the intel to themselves. I’ve lost squadmates because of it and I won’t allow myself to become part of the same problem.”

  Hendrix hesitated. “When the sergeant first told us we were being assigned to Captain Carl Recker’s ship, everyone was asking what we’d done to deserve it.”

  “And now?”

  “Now most of the squad would say we got exactly what we deserved. Me with them.”

  “Thank you, Corporal. I appreciate what you’ve said.”

  “I just didn’t want you to think nobody recognized…” Hendrix tailed off, looking uncomfortable again. She took a deep breath. “How did it happen, sir?” she asked, the words coming quickly. “I mean you and Admiral Solan falling out.”

  Recker didn’t usually speak about it. Maybe, he worried, it was because he’d lost trust in people. He shrugged.

  “It was years ago. A lifetime. Back then Gabriel Solan was being fast-tracked for high command – he was flying a shard class when he was fresh out of the simulators. I was a ground lieutenant, commanding troops on a planet called Rar-42132. Choker we used to call the place on account of all the sulphur dioxide. After a couple of weeks trying to take a Daklan ternium plant intact, my squads were ready to finish the job. The last building to fall and in we went, to flush out what was left of the enemy. Solan saw a chance for glory when we’d already won and he sent a plasma missile into that building. Killed five of my soldiers and took out the ternium control hardware at the same time, making the whole facility useless.”

  Recker felt the fury come. Even now, the memory had the power to affect him.

  “What happened after?” asked Hendrix.

  “As soon as I saw Captain Solan, I laid him out cold. Broke his jaw in three places.” Recker’s hand clenched into a fist. “He’d screwed up – a court martial grade screw up - and everyone knew. It didn’t matter. The incident was whitewashed and gradually the people who’d been on Choker died or pretended they’d forgotten.”

  “But not you,” said Hendrix softly.

  “I don’t forget, Corporal – I can’t. I’ve been told it’s one of my failings.”

  “It’s not a failing, sir.”

  Recker couldn’t think what else to say and he suddenly felt self-conscious. “I’m coming to accept that, but it’s taken a long time.”

  With an expression Recker couldn’t interpret, Hendrix turned and walked back towards the mess room. He headed off to view his quarters, agitated and full of nervous energy. Those quarters were exactly as anticipated and he didn’t linger. Having completed an inspection, he returned to the bridge, carrying a used tray and a cup that Captain Ramirez had evidently been unable to dispose of given the rapidity with which he’d been called away to the Topaz station.

  Once more in the command seat, Recker mentally prepared himself for the journey ahead.

  Chapter Seven

  The journey timer ticked down to
ten minutes and Lieutenant Eastwood called out his traditional warning. None of the crew scrambled for readiness since they’d been waiting five days for the coming moments. Those five days were more than enough for Recker’s usual crew to familiarise themselves with the hardware and for everyone to learn about each other.

  So far, it was going swimmingly and Recker had no doubts about the battle-readiness of his warship, especially since both Fraser and Larson appeared to be remarkably accomplished officers. Given Telar’s apparent hand in their selection, that was not a cause for amazement.

  Having heard Eastwood’s warning, Recker offered a quick summary of the immediate goals.

  “We’ll break out of lightspeed, scan the area and make contact with the Daklan. They aren’t known for posturing, so if things are really going south, we’ll learn about it quickly.”

  “I think the Daklan turned up for the same diplomacy lesson as you did, sir,” said Burner. “The one that got cancelled.”

  “And it comes as a great relief for me to think so, Lieutenant,” said Recker, who took no pleasure from verbally dancing around a subject, using flowery compliments to achieve a result that would have been quicker accomplished in two honest sentences. The Daklan might be warmongering alien bastards, but when it came to diplomacy, they were cut from the same tree as Recker.

  “You were telling us the plan, sir,” Aston reminded him.

  “I thought I’d finished,” said Recker, feigning surprise. “Scan the area, contact the Daklan, and see what happens after.”

  “That next part being a journey into a hitherto unexplored section of the universe where we will engage in deadly combat with a Lavorix construct or something equally deadly,” said Eastwood.

  “I didn’t want to look so far ahead, Lieutenant,” said Recker, watching the lightspeed timer drop to two minutes. “Any other questions?”

  Everyone knew the score – this was a time for quick thinking and reactions, rather than forward planning. In the initial dealings with the Daklan, Recker would be the one doing most of the heavy lifting. He called up the mission documentation again.