Ixan Legacy Box Set

by Scott Bartlett

  Quinn raised her eyebrows, which she paired with the ghost of a smile. “Never lost your balls, did you, Bronson? Not even out here, sleeping in alleyways. I’m offering you the opportunity to be a player again. To have consistent food and shelter, at the very least. And yet you’re already making demands.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  She chuckled. “The Interstellar Union’s come to realize how important ‘societal harmony’ is to its survival. They want to detect points of disharmony and deal with them before they become a problem.”

  What a load of bureaucratic doublespeak. “The Union wants to know whenever people disagree with them.”

  “That’s about the long and short of it, yeah. As far as I can tell.”

  “All right, then. If I’m going to help, I have certain conditions, and they go quite a bit farther than three square meals a day.”

  Quinn chuckled again. “You’re nothing if not entertaining, Bronson.” She studied him briefly. “I’m not supposed to take you to the spaceport till you’ve agreed to help, but I’ve already told you enough that they’ll probably kill you if you don’t agree. I might as well take you now.”

  “Fine.” The prospect of death didn’t scare Bronson. Not after everything he’d been through. He was playing for keeps—for all the chips. And given the power of the Progenitors, who he was actually working for, failure would probably be about as bad as death anyway.

  He’d serve the IU’s interests for as long as it served his own to do so. The same went for the Progenitors.

  Chapter 28

  A Calculated Risk

  Husher was asleep when his com emitted a high-pitched beeping from near his head, indicating a priority message. Snatching it up, he saw it was from his XO. The interruption to his rest wasn’t exactly welcome, but at least he knew that Fesky wasn’t likely to abuse her ability to send him urgent messages.

  She was in the command seat right now, but he wanted full details on this right away. So he called her.

  “Fesky,” he said when she answered. “You have something for me?”

  “A com drone just came through the darkgate from Alder,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “The neighboring system is under attack from the Progenitors. The system’s current defenders are mostly Quatro ships, and according to the transmission they should be able to handle it.”

  “Right.” It was protocol during wartime for systems under attack to notify nearby systems, even when an emergency hadn’t been declared. “I’m coming to the CIC.”

  “Captain,” Fesky said. “Are you planning to take us there?”

  “Yes.”

  “But we’ve been assigned to Yclept.”

  “We’ll leave our battle group here. But the Vesta’s going. This is important.”

  “You just got back into the IU’s good graces, Captain. Is it wise to defy them again, so soon after the president granted you a pardon?”

  Husher grimaced. “Who are you, Kaboh?”

  “Well, with him gone, there aren’t many left willing to question you to your face.”

  “I’m not getting into the details of this over com,” he said. “I won’t take the chance, however small, that a Progenitor agent is listening in. But you already know why I’m taking us to Alder. Do you really think we should let this opportunity pass us by?”

  “No,” Fesky admitted. “But someone has to play the part of Kaboh, now that Kaboh’s decided he can’t be a part of what we do, here. If that means playing devil’s advocate to keep you on your toes, then it’s devil’s advocate I’ll play.”

  “Okay, Fesky. You do you.” He ended the transmission and opened the wardrobe, where several changes of uniform hung, already neatly pressed. Having finally tired of Fesky’s constant admonishments about his appearance, he carved out an hour or so each week to iron several changes of uniform, to make sure he always had one ready to go.

  “Have the battle group captains been notified of our plans?” he asked as soon as the CIC hatch slid open to admit him.

  “They have,” Fesky said, rising from the command seat.

  “Did they raise any concerns?”

  “No, sir. I’m sure by now they know better than to interrupt you while you’re going against Command’s orders.”

  Husher glanced at his XO askance as he settled into his seat and she settled into hers. Talking so frankly about his decision to transition into Alder despite what the IU wanted…well, it was unorthodox, much like his decision to defy the IU.

  I’m sure Fesky knows what she’s doing. There’s no hiding it from the crew that we’re going off-script. Might as well make light of it, I guess, and relieve some of the tension.

  “What about Governor Russell?” he asked. “Has he been notified?”

  “I left that particular task to you, Captain. If you care to execute it.”

  Husher nodded. “The people of Juktas deserve some kind of explanation. Coms, get the governor on.”

  Soon enough, Governor Gerald Russell was on the main display, blinking at Husher rapidly. “You’re saying you’re leaving us defenseless to go help a bunch of Quatro?”

  “Currently, those Quatro are defending a system with significant populations from all four Union species, including humans. I’m sure you agree it’s important for us to make sure that system doesn’t fall.”

  Russell sniffed. “Sure, but I thought the com drone said they don’t need any help.”

  “We have a specific, classified mission in Alder, that’s related but not critical to its defense.” That wasn’t entirely true, of course—it was only classified in that Husher was keeping it a secret from almost everyone.

  “But the IU ordered you to remain here,” the governor said.

  “I thought you didn’t like the IU.”

  “Even they’re right sometimes. This is one of those times.”

  “That’s why we’re leaving our battle group in formation around your colony, Governor. Believe me when I say that our trip to Alder is a calculated risk, one that could turn the tide of the war in our favor. Beyond that, I can’t tell you anything. Thank you for your understanding, Governor.”

  Husher nodded at his Coms officer, who cut off the transmission with evident relish.

  The rest of the voyage out of Yclept was uneventful, but soon after transitioning into Alder, the tactical display became populated with five Quatro warships and two IGF cruisers, as well as three Progenitor destroyers and two carriers.

  Husher frowned. “Whose projection was it that the Quatro needed no help with this system’s defense? Theirs or the IGF’s?”

  “Hard to say, sir,” the Coms officer said. “The message was signed Captain Penney of the Simon, but it doesn’t mention who conducted the analysis.”

  “Right. Well, unless the Quatro ships are much more powerful than I’ve been led to believe, this looks like an even fight to me. In fact, the Progenitors might even be slightly favored to win.”

  No one commented on his diagnosis of the situation. Not that he’d expected them to. “All ahead toward the engagement, Helm.”

  Chapter 29

  Optimize for Speed

  Husher’s analysis quickly proved more accurate than he would have liked. Shortly after the Vesta transitioned through the darkgate, Winterton reported that a Quatro destroyer and one of the IGF cruisers had been neutralized in quick succession, infiltrated with Ravagers and then torn apart from the inside.

  This is good for our self-assigned mission, at least. Not so good for our prospects of winning the war. The plan was to plant trackers on multiple Progenitor ships, if they could. That would increase the likelihood they’d encounter one of them again. It also increases the chances of one of the trackers being found, and once that happens, they’ll all be scouring their hulls for the things.

  It was a trade-off, to be sure. But a calculated one.

  The term “trackers” didn’t really describe what the devices did. They weren’t capable of sending signals interdi
mensionally, so no actual tracking would occur. Not in real-time, anyway.

  Instead, Husher and Ochrim planned to scrape the data from the devices if and when they encountered them again, in the hopes of figuring out how to travel between the various universes themselves—and also how to reach the Progenitors’ home dimension. The devices were research aids more than anything else.

  He turned to his new Nav officer. “Noni, devise a course that takes us past the enemy formation, coming to a stop well beyond them. The delayed deceleration will shorten the window the Progenitor ships will have to react to our missiles. Tremaine, once Noni’s done that, I need you to work with her to find the optimal timing for firing our barrage, given our current course and acceleration. Optimize for missile speed.”

  “Aye, sir,” Tremaine said, hard on the heels of Noni’s “Yes, Captain.”

  “I trust our forward tubes have already been loaded with our preplanned volley, Tremaine?”

  “Yes, sir,” the Tactical officer said. “And the second volley is ready for loading immediately after. In total, fifty-five Banshees, sixteen Gorgons, and nine Hydras, four of them modified. The modified missiles will be fired with the second barrage.”

  “Very good.” If this went flawlessly, four Progenitor ships would leave the universe with trackers on their hulls. “Coms, tell Commander Ayam he’ll be launching Pythons soon: the entire Air Group, including the subspace-capable squadron.”

  “Aye.”

  He hadn’t wanted to reveal his Pythons’ new capabilities back in Yclept, but now that he had, it was time to hit as hard and as fast with them as he could. There was a decent chance that these Progenitor ships hadn’t received the intel about them yet, but they would. Now was the time to press the advantage.

  “First missiles away,” Tremaine said after a tense period of waiting. “Second volley being loaded into the tubes now…firing.”

  Husher nodded, pleased at the coordinated efforts of his crew and the Vesta’s automated systems.

  As expected, the enemy ships were too busy dealing with the distributed missile strike to bother Husher’s supercarrier very much as she sailed past their formation, decelerating.

  Still, if everything went his way, this wouldn’t be war.

  “Two of the four tracker segments have been neutralized, sir,” Winterton reported. “Ravagers got to the Hydras carrying them, they separated, and then point defense turrets mowed down all eight partitions.”

  “Acknowledged, Ensign,” Husher said, trying not to sound as pissed-off as he felt. The trackers had been designed along the same principles as Gorgons, with stealth in mind. But maybe that had been a mistake. By now, the Progenitors knew to expect eight warheads from Hydras. Perhaps seeing only seven was too glaring a warning sign that something wasn’t right.

  I need to take their minds off the anomaly, if I can. “Tactical, send a dispersed spray of kinetic impactors from our aft rail guns, before we reach our allied ships. It doesn’t need to be precise, it just needs to happen now.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tremaine said, his voice tight as his fingers flew over the console.

  “Helm, we’re deviating from Noni’s course. I want to execute an emergency braking procedure, immediately.” The stress wouldn’t do his ship any favors, but this was too important. “Coms, tell Ayam he’s launching ahead of schedule.”

  His orders delivered, Husher monitored the tactical display as they played out. The kinetic impactors had prompted some hasty repositioning from the enemy fleet, but the Vesta missiles’ guidance systems were smart enough to readjust, tracking their targets.

  As Pythons shot out of their launch tubes toward the enemy ships, squadron by squadron, Winterton turned toward Husher, wearing an uncharacteristic smile.

  “I’m receiving signals from the two remaining trackers, Captain. They’ve both successfully landed on enemy hulls, a destroyer’s and a carrier’s, with no sign they’ve been detected.”

  “Excellent,” Husher said as his CIC erupted into cheering. “Supply Ensign Fry with which ships have been tagged, Winterton. Fry, transmit the designations to Commander Ayam and tell him to pressure the most vulnerable enemy ship that isn’t one of those two.”

  Both officers answered in the affirmative, and Husher returned to monitoring the tactical display. As he did, his mood continued to improve. Watching the subspace Pythons flit in and out of reality in response to immediate threats—it was a beautiful thing to behold. Almost as beautiful as watching the destroyer they targeted go up in flames.

  The cheering picked back up, then. The destruction of Progenitor ships was rare enough to buoy Husher’s officers even further, and he wasn’t about to tamp their spirits.

  The Progenitors seemed just as shocked as they did. Seconds after the destroyer went down, the four remaining enemy ships vanished from the Alder System.

  But when it came to fostering joy, war did not make for fertile ground. A com drone arrived from the Yclept System, even as the other IGF and Quatro captains were thanking Husher and his crew for the assist.

  The system they’d abandoned was under attack by a Progenitor destroyer and three carriers.

  Chapter 30

  Stellarpol

  Today is just full of surprises.

  Protocol called for transitioning through darkgates at a measured speed, but learning of the attack on the system they were supposed to be defending had made Husher less concerned with protocol than with the pit of guilt that sat at the bottom of his stomach. You made your choice with full knowledge of what might happen, he’d told himself. You knew it was important enough to take the risk. Unfortunately, his self-talk wasn’t accomplishing much.

  But after the Vesta tore from the Alder-Yclept darkgate at a speed well above regulation, and the tactical display populated, they saw that another capital starship, the Eos, was already there and contending with the Progenitor threat.

  With her own battle group as well as the Vesta’s backing her up, not to mention Juktas’ orbital defense platforms and its fighter group, the Eos was mounting a vigorous defense.

  “Nav, devise a course that pairs full engine power with the system’s gravity well to get us to that engagement as quickly as possible,” Husher said. Despite the relief he felt at the Eos’ presence, he had no desire to lose even a single ship to the Progenitors. He knew that losing an entire crew after he’d chosen to leave his post would never leave his conscience.

  Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Instead, the Progenitor ships vanished just before the Vesta entered missile range, clearly uninterested in getting flanked by two capital starships.

  “We have a transmission request from the Eos, Captain.”

  Husher nodded, not expecting to enjoy this. The prospect of taking the transmission in his office popped into his mind, unbidden. No. He wouldn’t allow himself that reprieve. We make our decisions and we live with them. “Put in on the display, and give everyone access,” Husher said.

  “Captain Husher,” said the graying, thin-faced woman who appeared on the display. “Where were you?”

  “Hello, Captain Norberg,” he said. Husher knew all the capital starship captains, and Katrina Norberg was perhaps the least likely to take nonsense lightly. “We’ve just come from aiding in the defense of the Alder System.”

  “I’m told Alder needed no help with its defense,” Norberg said, her lips a flat line.

  “We were told the same, though that assessment proved somewhat inaccurate. Two allied ships were lost within ten minutes of our arrival.”

  Norberg nodded. “It’s a good thing you were there, then. But even so. You were assigned to Yclept. Why leave, when your intel told you Alder was safe? If it hadn’t been for our arrival, things might have turned out quite differently today.”

  “I understand that. All I can say is that we made a calculated risk. I’m not able to tell you the nature of that risk, because it’s classified.” He’d decided it was easier to treat the trackers they’d affixed to the Progenitor
ships as classified than to say he simply didn’t trust anyone enough to supply them with the information.

  Norberg was studying him closely, clearly not fully buying his account. “Well, I have no authority over you, Captain Husher. The IU does, however, and so does the admiralty. I hope you don’t expect me to conceal anything about your actions from them.”

  “Of course not.”

  “All right, then,” Norberg said, though her expression remained just as hardened. Not that that was much of a departure from her usual demeanor.

  “Can I ask why you’ve come to the Yclept System, Captain?” Husher asked. “Given your intel told you it was protected by the Vesta?”

  “We’re following orders that come straight from Galactic Congress, or so Admiral Iver told me,” Norberg said. “We’re here to arrest Governor Russell. Indeed, my marines are planetside right now, assisting Stellarpol officers in apprehending him. We have a few more stops to make after this, and then we’re heading back to Caprice.”

  Husher lowered his eyebrows. “Do your other stops involve arresting people?”

  “I see no reason not to tell you that they do indeed. My orders aren’t classified.”

  “What crimes did Governor Russell commit?”

  “Crimes against IU’s nonhuman member species, I’m told.”

  “What crimes?”

  “Fomenting resentful attitudes against nonhuman beings. That’s the official wording, anyway.”

  Slowly, Husher asked, “So, he was inciting violence?”

  “That’s not what the charges say.”

  “What does ‘fomenting resentful attitudes’ mean, then?”

  Norberg sighed. “I’m a starship captain, not a politician, Husher. I know you’ve dipped your toe into that pool more than once, but I just follow orders. As far as I understand, the IU has enacted special wartime powers to make sure the galaxy stays stable when we most need it to be. We don’t just need tolerance, at times like these. We need unity. Anyone working against that is being removed from the equation. That’s the best explanation I have for you.”