“We must leave him here,” Fal K’rath said. The mate of the fallen Va’alen looked up and crouched into a stance dangerously close to a challenge. As one, both K’rath and his mate drew their curved blades from behind their backs. The body language was clear; a challenge would mean death. The injured warrior’s mate shrank away, the blades were sheathed, and the moment of near-cannibalistic rage was over. “If he lives, we will return for him. If he does not, I swear that you will be released to claim retribution.” The female bowed slightly, grateful that she would be allowed to honor her mate and unleash hell on the humans who had hurt him without having the pride to stand up to him, instead burning him with acid and a cheap trick.
“We must be close behind them,” K’rath’s mate said as she dragged the injured warrior to sit with his back against the wall and restored the rifle to the grip on his right hands. “We can hunt them down.”
“It is time I called for reinforcements,” K’rath told her. She snapped her body around to face him, anger radiating off her in pulsating waves. “You would share the honor of killing these humans with another?” she asked in a tone that was also dangerously close to a challenge. K’rath let it go.
“I would accept the honor of being among the first Va’alen to bring a live human to our Hive Lord and giving her the gift of taking everything from its mind. That is where the honor lies, not in killing these weak bodies who leave these vile tricks behind them.”
Chapter Twenty-One –The Indomitable, Proxima Centauri Orbit
“Admiral, subspace data comm incoming from the other side of sector three,” the comm officer in charge of monitoring the channels said in a voice designed to make Dassiova sit up and take notice.
“From who?” he shot back.
Whom, the comm officer thought, remembering that she shouldn’t correct people on their grammar, as it made them dislike her. “From Commander Brandt,” she said, recognizing the individual security clearance code without having to reference it through the ship’s database, “detailing the location of her team from the Tanto. Sir, she says that her team is being pursued by a Va’alen squad and that there is hostile wildlife on the surface… Sir…”
“Spit it out, Lieutenant,” Dassiova growled.
“She says they’re being hunted by ‘roaches and dinosaurs and could do with a frikkin’ ride out of there.”
“Dinosau…” Dassiova began involuntarily before he caught himself and snapped his mouth shut. “Is there a response frequency detailed?”
“Negative, shot in the dark. The whole fleet would have received it.”
Dammit, the admiral cursed to himself. If we’ve received it, then the Ichi sure as hell has too.
Sure enough, the other comm officer responsible for the majority of the ship-to-ship comms piped up.
“Sir, incoming hail from the Anvil. It’s Captain Torres wanting to speak to you personally.”
“My compliments to the Commander,” Dassiova growled and observed publicly that Torres was currently without a ship to command, so he was not technically a captain at that moment, “advise him that I received the transmission and will deal with it accordingly.” He waited as the thinly veiled orders were passed on, but looked back when his thoughts were interrupted again.
“Sir, Commander Torres is insisting that you take his call.”
Dassiova, to use a term the Chief had long ago reserved as his signature move, lost his shit entirely. He sat in his chair, tapped at the console to patch in to the open channel with Torres, and let rip with a full broadside for everyone to hear.
“Commander, let me give you a lesson in military command structure. I am the Admiral. The fleet commander. The fleet which, for the moment at least, you are a part of. You, being a Commander serving under me and Captain of a ship stuck in dry dock because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, have to do what I tell you to do. If you do not like this natural evolution of how the human race has developed its command structure, then I invite you to resign your goddamned commission on our return to Ear…”
“Sir, if I may?” Torres interrupted. Dassiova’s eyebrows went up so high they would have disappeared if his hairline hadn’t receded greatly over the last decade. “I’ve detected a signal trace on the Ichi’s systems. Sir, as much as I hate to admit it, I think the leak is coming from one of my people…” Torres’ tone changed to one of questioning confusion. “Admiral, what transmission are you talking about?”
~
“Yeah, right here,” Massey said as she worked her fingertips over the console, “subspace comm data burst relayed through the fleet data link via the Anvil to the Indomitable and back to Earth.”
“Do we know what it says?” Torres asked. The only other people in the room were the admiral and the Chief; his troop commander.
“Actually…” Massey said as she typed commands, “I think we might... Got it!” The screen came up with a long sequence of numbers.
“That’s our current position,” Torres said, “someone’s sending our current position back home. But why?”
“And to whom?” Massey added.
“I care more about the who on this end right now,” Dassiova said. “Why can you decrypt this transmission and not the others?”
“Whoever it is got sloppy, I guess,” Massey said. “The signal definitely originated on the Ichi, no doubt about it.”
“My ship is crawling with engineers from the Anvil,” Torres interjected, still hoping that treason wasn’t being hidden among his own people, and it coul…”
“I’ve used this data to trace the earlier transmissions,” Massey said, almost apologetically, “and they all came from your ship, even when you were on the other side of this sector.” Torres’ head dropped as all hope of a mistake left him.
“So, who is it?” the Chief asked in a threatening rumble.
“Working on it,” Massey answered, “oh… oh my…”
All three men standing behind her asked questions at once and cancelled each other out as Massey held up a hand for quiet, then turned the gesture into a pointed finger at a line of code on the screen.
It was a personal security clearance code, masked in all the previous transmissions, but now revealed through their mistake.
“No,” Torres said in barely a whisper, “it can’t be. It’s not possible, I…”
“I think you need to let us handle this one, Son,” Dassiova said kindly. He turned to the Chief and drew himself up formally. “Chief, please take a dropship over to the Anvil and detain that traitor for questioning.”
~
Amare Eze had returned to her own quarters, having utilized her covert skills to sneak into Torres’ cabin earlier. As they were waiting for their ship to be repaired, the lack of duties made for a lot more opportunity for intimacy than they were used to. She had showered and changed into PT kit before heading to the small gymnasium on the deck where her allocated cabin was, and after waiting ten minutes for a free treadmill, she set the pace high and got into the zone. Normally when training, she would have music blasting through earbuds, but onboard ship where warning bells couldn’t afford to be ignored, she had to make do with the deep contents of her mind to occupy her.
She was so deep inside her thoughts that the arrival of four armored troops in the gym passed her by. All around her, others were stopping their workouts and leaving the room, or else staying back against the wall and keeping their mouths shut. Eventually only Eze was left running, and the sudden lack of background noise snapped her concentration back to the present. She glanced around, initially thinking that she had missed a ship-wide alert, and stopped her treadmill by hitting the red emergency stop button in the center of the console. It wound down quickly, and with shaking legs, she turned and stepped down to be confronted with the chest plate of a large man. She looked up, seeing the scowling black face of the Chief.
“Sir,” she said, out of breath and masking the jolt of fear. He didn’t respond, so she went to step around him. He sidestepped to
block her path.
“Come with us, Eze,” the Chief said with a rumbling, ominous sound.
“Why?”
“Because you have to,” he answered simply, adding a word that was dripping in unavoidable consequences, “now.”
Stunned, still out of breath and sweating, she followed the Chief out of the gym as the other armored troops fell in beside and behind her to create a box-style escort. Crew and officers flattened themselves against the bulkheads to get out of the way of the procession as they wound their way to the nearest shuttle bay. Stepping up the rear ramp of the nearest dropship, she sat in a seat and tried to keep her face as neutral as the Chief’s had been.
Chapter Twenty-Two –Va’alen Armada
“Aq,” the underling called over the radio to the commander of the armada, “it is time to deploy another communications buoy.” The commander nodded, giving his consent for the prototype comm relay to be dumped in deep space. Under the guidance and secret orders of Aq Qa’shal, his clan senior, he had assembled and led the armada towards the human fleet, instead of following the orders from their Supreme Commander, Muq Da’kath. His own flight, that of a hundred Va’alen warriors, should have been sent to a small moon where one of the two Hive Lords had been secreted, but instead, his clan loyalty had forced him to disobey those orders. All other commanders loyal to Qa’shal’s clan over the orders of Muq Da’kath had joined him to make a flotilla larger than their enemy could ever hope to destroy, and all of them knew the penalty for failure. Death in battle at the hands of their enemy was preferable to execution for treason, and that fact made every last one of the Va’alen in that armada more dangerous than usual.
When he was successful, when the humans were destroyed, Qa’shal could challenge for overall leadership and he would be promoted to the team of senior advisors, thus advancing his career and his family’s standing back on their home worlds.
The comm buoy relay, an invention of Qa’shal’s own engineers, accelerated their communications through the series of waypoints to allow for greater distances to be covered. That new technology, they all knew, was derived from the wreckage blown clear from their destroyed portal. The Supreme Commander was obsessed with recreating the human technology, totally convinced that it was the key to their ability to travel huge distances in almost no time, but his own clan senior believed that the device was their communications array and had ordered studies to be conducted. The mash of alien technologies had quickly led to the ability to accelerate their data communications through space at unimaginable speeds, and he sent an update to Qa’shal through the most recent buoy the armada had deployed. He informed his commander, calling him Supreme commander in his communique for added merit points, that they were within days of dealing a fatal blow to the enemy, and that he hoped to inform him of their success soon.
Ahead of him, his own ship near to the front of the tightly-packed formation, but not so close as to be at risk from another cowardly stealth attack by the human vessels, the black expanse of space held the faintest of red glows in the far distance. That red glow, that of the small dwarf planet where the filthy Kuldar had been found hiding, signified their journey’s end and the impending battle that would elevate his standing and reputation to previously unobtainable heights. He mused that Qa’shal, the offspring of a prominent sire in the second largest clan of their kind and a warrior of little repute but great support, had chosen him for his bravery. In truth, Qa’shal had chosen him for his malleability and had manipulated him easily with promises of high social and military honors for a successful mission. Promises like that, especially when cut off from their network, were easy to give as the chances of them being paid in full were slim.
As soon as the message was sent, he leaned back in his chair and waited as he imagined the new title and riches that would fall on him. His contemplation was interrupted by a bright blue flash ahead of his ship as the lead ships were engulfed in an expanding sphere of arcing electricity, before it collapsed just as suddenly and crushed the vessels from existence in a heartbeat. He roared for the armada to stop, but a report of a second explosion far back to their left flank was shouted at him.
By the time the fifth shrouded singularity mine detonated and the armada had lost thirteen ships, the commander had ordered a course change which led them on a less direct route to the position of the human fleet. He lost no more ships, but the time he lost was more galling, as it added hours to his arrival time. His commander would be waiting impatiently for a battle report on the conflict that would not yet have happened.
“Curse these cowardly humans and their sneak attacks,” he roared, abandoning his tactics in rage, “order the armada to spread out into battle formation and advance on the enemy.”
~
“Long range sensors picking up a mine explosion,” Hayes’ ensign at the tactical station announced. “And another…”
“You hearing this, Vengeance?” he asked over the open channel to both Halstead’s ship and the fleet flagship.
“On my sensors also,” Halstead replied. “Admiral?”
“Go to it, Captains,” he ordered, “God speed and stay lucky.” He cut the link, removing himself from the conversation, having granted permission for his two frigates to go to war.
“Little hand say it’s time to rock?” Halstead asked Hayes with a wonky grin.
“Hell, yes, Captain,” Hayes said seriously. “Hell, yes.”
~
The armada, spread out wide in loose attack waves, moved more slowly to try and maintain their stealth profiles. Such large concentrations of cloaking energy fields resonated to create a kind of sensor hum large enough for the humans to detect, and that was precisely what happened. Ahead of them, a dull flash, their only indication of something amiss, signified the arrival of one of the warships of the design that had destroyed their ability to get home. The Va’alen commander roared for his ships to attack and manipulated the controls to surge ahead and high to come down in a diving attack run, just as the enemy ship fired a rippling broadside of missiles which consumed his leading warriors in collapsing explosions similar to the type they used as self-destruct devices. The ship vanished, another muted flash the only sign of change, and the surviving flights of Va’alen arrived within weapons range, to find that section of black space devoid of enemy to kill.
“Sensors indicate enemy to our right,” came the call over the armada’s channel, “another ship is decloa…” The transmission shut off as though the source had been lost from the universe, which is precisely what had happened. The ships on that edge of the formation were spread more thinly, and when the Hammer appeared only a thousand kilometers away from the nearest enemy ship, they unloaded a broadside of singularity nukes in a wide spread, in addition to opening up with their energy cannons to stitch bright orange bolts across the black expanse. The answering eruption of sparks denoted three Va’alen ships coming apart like fireworks as the debris spun out in all directions to detonate as flashes in the shields of their comrade ships. Before any guns could respond, the enemy ship disappeared again, only to reappear to their opposite flank and repeat the process.
“Kill it!” The commander roared. “Destroy that ship!”
The complex sequence of jumps performed by both the Hammer and the Vengeance called for an open communication link between the two ships as they choreographed their disappearances and arrivals to make it seem as though one single ship tormented the armada with impunity. It didn’t take long for their enemy to adapt to their tactics, and as soon as they jumped they found every weapon of the Va’alen armada within range firing at the emerging energy reading before the ship had even fully arrived in the real space and time where their enemy existed.
Hayes rocked in his command chair as dozens of hits battered their outer shields. The damage report called out to him claimed a ten percent drop in their shields, and that was enough for Hayes.
“Jump us out,” he ordered, “Vengeance, they’re wising up to us. Jump in furth
er away next time and use nukes instead.” Halstead acknowledged him, but still her next turn to harass the enemy resulted in them taking numerous hits to the point where their outer shield emitter failed.
Twice more each, the frigates emerged into real space at the fringes of the armada, and with each appearance they fired ordnance which took one or two or three ships every time. When both had expended their payload, they jumped further to appear in the void near to the Cortez, which had been on standby to re-arm the pair as soon as they docked.
“Get me a line to the Admiral,” Hayes ordered, “Captain Halstead, you still on with me?”
“I’m here, Craig,” she answered, stunning him for the briefest of moments with her uncharacteristic use of his given name. He had no time to dwell on that, as Dassiova’s voice boomed over the speakers.
“Report.”
“Sir, we’ve taken a good few out, but they adapted quickly. They’ve spread out, which has made it hard to concentrate fire on them. We hammered them,” he winced at the unintentional pun but pressed on, “on the first two passes but we’re only getting ones and twos now. I think further attempts could result in losses to us.”
“Captain Halstead,” Dassiova asked, “you concur with that analysis?”
“I do, Sir,” she said, “we need to bunch them up again if we have any hope of stopping them before they arrive here.”
Conflict: The Expansion Series Book 3 Page 20
