Ichiro turned the sensors on the cluster left behind by the Orion and smiled as the Kageryū’s computer confirmed not only their identity, but that it had their command codes. Commodore Graves had left behind five-hundred Starfire-Class aerospace fighters, not only giving them a chance to win but guaranteeing victory.
It took a shorter time than she expected for Athame and Nero, now wearing an envirosuit with the Mitsugawa logo on its shoulders, to offload one of the Shiragawa doomsday weapons and place it on the deck of the hanger. She thought about boarding the ship, saying goodbye to Sanul and Rune, but something inside her knew that if she did that she wouldn’t be able to follow through. The kid would say something he thought was clever or tough which was actually sweet, or Sanul would talk or beg her out of it. No, that wouldn’t work. She would have to leave the explanations to the rest of them, and that made her feel even more guilty.
“Once you transmit the code, the trigger is here,” Athame stated, opening a panel on the long, black cigar of the Hawking missile. There was a glowing keypad inside. “The trigger is analog, so Daedalus won’t be able to stop you. I’ve altered the code so that if you depress zero the warhead will explode.”
“Okay, got it. Hit zero.” Her body felt numb.
Nero put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”
“There is no one else, but thank you for saying so. You know, this whole thing started with you and Sorina. I thought I was about to break a hell of a story.”
“You did,” Sorina said from the Fukuro’s ramp. “We will make sure it gets told.”
The hanger bay doors trembled. Athame and Nero disabled the hydraulics, but that couldn’t stop Daedalus’ robots from forcing it open. They were out of time.
Cygni looked over her shoulder, past the ship and the open portal where Daedalus disabled the plasma window in a vain effort to kill them. Beyond it swirled the caramel clouds of the Matre. She watched it dance and thought it beautiful.
She startled as the hanger bay doors slammed open and the hulking form of a DS-109 started in. She could see there were more behind it.
“Go!” Cygni shouted through her suit’s speakers.
Armstrong and Sorina opened fire.
Nero gave her a nod, then retreated up the ramp. Armstrong and Sorina remained on its lip, firing even as it lifted up. They kept shooting when the 109’s returned fire and sent sparks flying as hypersonic bullets struck the Fukuro’s hull.
The ramp finished closing with a hiss and the ship’s dark energy engines fired up. It hummed, lifting off the deck and drew back, firing one burst from its HEXL cannon which melted the first four 109’s in the hanger, then it was outside and climbing for space.
This was it. There was no turning back.
PLIA, link to the local network.
[Connecting… Connected.]
Upload the worm, she ordered and a progress bar appeared.
She wondered what it would feel like. Would she burn for a second or feel nothing when the warhead went off?
“Cygni Lau Aragón,” the voice of Cylus’ manservant said into her head—No, that wasn’t right. It was Daedalus. It had always been. “This is a foolish venture. You need not die. I am the Confederation’s protector, let me protect you. Let me finish my work. I have calculated the future. It is the only way the Confederation will survive.”
She closed her eyes and saw the Praetor Prime smash Biren’s chest in. She shuddered, seeing his guts spill out on the carpet.
The progress bar finished filling in and she heard the electric pulse of the station’s Einstein-Rosen Bridge generator fire up.
“You will doom all humanity, all species of the Spur if you do this,” Daedalus said.
Through the blue window she saw the Matre’s beautiful clouds distort, then flash into swirling lines of rainbow light.
She looked down at the keypad and held her silver finger over the number zero. She hesitated only a moment as she watched Biren die behind her eyelids one last time.
“You killed my Biri,” she whispered and pressed the key.
Dark energy beams converged within the warhead, compressing a tiny piece of dense matter within it down past its Schwarzschild radius, turning it into a mini black hole. The missile started to compress around it, and then the flow of energy reversed in a fantastic burst of Hawking radiation.
For just a moment, Deep Hydra was brighter than a thousand suns.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Revenant Tower, Ikuzlu City, Kosfanter
J2400:3326
With his teeth grinding hard against one another Cylus watched the Laocoon flash and explode, sending light particles across the display hovering over Revenant’s desk. The Annihilator rotated toward the Cleebian fleet which continued to hammer away at its seemingly invulnerable aegis. Its relatively cannon flashed again and another ship exploded, cutting the Cleebian numbers down to just twelve ships.
Zalor’s eyes gleamed. “How many will you lose until you concede that you are outmaneuvered, I wonder?”
Sophi glared at him with her ice-pale eyes.
The cannon flashed again and another ship disintegrated.
“How are you going to deal with Daedalus when it wins?” Cylus wiped his sweaty palms on his frock coat.
“Daedalus will soon no longer be a threat. You see, the Katozi Slynn is sitting on the landing pad at the space port,” he responded.
He cocked an eyebrow. “The what?”
“The ship of the mercenary who brought Nero Graves back to Kosfanter,” Zalor said.
Beside him Helena looked alarmed.
“Don’t worry, he’s not on-planet anymore. Daedalus scooped him up. I believe he’s presently on Deep Hydra.”
“I don’t understand. Nero Graves is a Praetor—”
“—Was a Praetor. Isn’t that right?” Zalor said.
Bahu nodded. “We discovered this was no longer the case on Zov. Ameluan was able to read his woman’s mind before Nero killed him. That information was transmitted to us after they left. Daedalus was trying to retrieve Nero for some time now. Ameluan also detected Cephalon nanomachines within Nero Graves’ body.”
“Those are the alien nanomachines Doctor Rega was researching for the last twenty years. They somehow tie into the Cephalon transport network we hijacked, but they also have some rather curious properties, like the ability to assimilate matter to make more of themselves. Daedalus is trying to find out why Nero left its fold, and in doing so, will unleash these nanomachines on itself. It will be destroyed by them, or if not, distracted enough to be defeated.” Zalor stood up from his chair and spread his arms before the display.
“Deep Hydra? But no one knows where that is.” A cold feeling was crawling over Cylus’ skin.
“Actually, that was true until about half an hour ago when Nero’s friends went after him and the Kageryū started providing cover fire over the Eye of the Matre. Clever of it to hide in plain sight like that, but Daedalus’ games are at an end.” He chuckled and moved the display’s focus to the Matre.
It zoomed in on the giant caramel swirl of the planet and the Kageryū-maru appeared surrounded by a cloud of enemy fighters. The display zoomed in again and Cylus saw fires spurting forth from holes in its hull near its engines. There was an annihilator nearby, too. It turned, angling its deadly cannon at the black ship.
Zalor smiled at Sophi. “Behold as all you have built crumbles to—”
The relativity cannon flashed as a distortion appeared in the space between the two ships and devoured the deadly projectile. Cylus’ eyes grew wide as the long hull of the Orion spat forth from the wormhole’s exit. It was damaged along one side, but laying into the annihilator with all it had. He looked up and saw Zalor’s jaw hanging open. His white teeth separated further when the Kageryū shot a projectile of its own that bent around the Orion and slammed into the relativity cannon just as it fired again.
Daedalus’ ultimate weapon vanished in a burst of light.
&
nbsp; “Unanticipated outcome?” Sophi asked with a chuckle.
Zalor pressed his lips together as the Orion went into FTL and vanished, leaving behind a cloud of its own fighters that moved to defend the Kageryū.
Cylus felt his chest swell. If Zalor was upset it could only mean something good.
“What’s wrong?” Baron LeRoux scowled.
“What do you mean?” Helena asked.
“Daedalus’ fighters, they aren’t moving.”
He looked. It was true, they were sitting ducks, easily picked off by the surging Confederate fighters.
Zalor zoomed the display out then shifted it over to the battle with the Cleebians in time to see the remaining ships reducing that annihilator to scrap. He zoomed out again and they saw the Orion had returned to her original position and was doing the same to the third annihilator.
“Deep Hydra,” Zalor whispered and zoomed back in on the Matre. “Nero must have won.”
“You don’t sound happy,” Sophi stated.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen yet.” He glared at the hologram.
“Baron,” LeRoux began. “Change is the nature of the universe, if you cannot anticipate change—”
“Not to worry, I meant for this to finish Daedalus’ forces off, but cleaning up the remains of your pathetic attempt at a coup will do.” Zalor gave Sophi a dismissive look. “Miss Bahu, if you will signal your countrymen. It is time.”
Bahu closed her eyes.
The display zoomed out and more ships started to appear in the system’s exit zone. Each ship had the same basic design, a large disk with a bubble at its center on the end of a long, curving cylinder. Each bore a sharp resemblance to a massive, light-encrusted vase. They were large, and there were lots of them. His eyes widened as he realized what he was staring at—the VoQuana fleet reborn.
“How—” he stammered. “How many VoQuana are on those ships?”
“More than you think, and they are joined by their Isinari loyalists.” Zalor laughed, rubbing his hands together. He watched the display. “Well?”
Bahu opened her eyes. The sparks within them were pulsing with green light.
“Zalor Revenant,” she said in a voice that was not her own. It was as though there were two people in her body, both speaking at once.
“Allatu,” he smiled. “It is about time to end this.”
Sophi took a step back, maneuvering so that she was close to Cylus and the LeRoux twins. He gave her a panicked look. Had she anticipated this? Did she have some deal with another power to counter this move? He was desperate for her to have an answer. The VoQuana couldn’t win like this, not after what they did to him!
She tilted her head toward the transparent office wall. He looked, and saw several lights streaking down from among the stars.
“What are you waiting for? Daedalus is taken care of,” Zalor said.
Bahu, or Allatu, or both of them—he wasn’t sure—folded her arms across her chest.
“We are waiting to see the outcome of the current conflict.”
“What?” Zalor frowned. “What conflict? It’s over. We won. Now stick to our deal and destroy the remaining—”
“No, not that conflict. This one,” she responded.
An alarm sounded.
Zalor paled.
“Father, you didn’t think the Cleebians just sent their fleet in, did you? Did you know they had a garrison here on the capital? Oh, of course you did. Right?” Sophi laughed.
He typed into his desk’s terminal with frantic fingers. The display vanished, replaced by the security feed at the base of the seven towers. Cylus’ heart jumped. Cleebians in blue armor were storming the lobby, mowing down Zalor’s artificials with bursts from their rifles.
“Treason…” Zalor whispered.
“For the record, he intimidated me into all of this,” Helena started to move away from him.
“I am not defeated. Your Cleeb lackeys will never get past my defenses. And you—” He turned to Bahu. “—We had a deal!”
“The deal was for our freedom,” she responded.
“Daedalus is no more!”
“So you claim. We will verify that in time, but more importantly, if you lose this battle we may be punished for helping you. We act in the best interests of our people, and at this time we will wait and deal with the victor.”
Zalor ground his teeth together.
Cylus frowned, a conversation he had with Meia came to mind. Were the VoQuana truly evil or just trying to survive in a galaxy that hated them? A galaxy, he realized, that would hate him if Zalor was able to control the narrative of what happened here. With a racing heart his head snapped up and he stared at Bahu-Allatu. Did they have something in common? Her price was freedom. Could he do that as Premier and not be hated by the rest of the Confederation?
The glowing rings of sparks in her eyes turned to him. Her pale, narrow face seemed to fill his vision. Was she reading his mind? Would he know?
The office door burst open and more artificials rushed in. There were farmers, maids, athletes, and old ladies—the contents of the statue garden, and they were heading for him and the rest.
“Zalor, I think it is time I took my leave,” Baron LeRoux stated.
“What? Hugo, don’t you dare…”
“I don’t need the stink of your tarnished reputation on me.”
“I think I’ll—” Helena started.
“If either one of you moves, you die.” Zalor pressed his fists into the surface of his desk until the knuckles turned white. “I will win this battle with a sweep of my hand—”
He cut himself off and turned his gaze up at the window. Cylus saw him frown for several seconds before, with a look of pure panic, Zalor swept his hand across his desk.
“Rega! Activate it now!” he shouted.
Outfitted in a brand-new MACS[9] suit, Nero Graves fell from the sky along with twenty other Star Jumpers from the CSS Orion placed under his command. He saw himself in the reflection of the black talon of Tower One, a dark-gray skinned humanoid made of angled polysteel plates and flexible armored mesh. The stock of his brand-new ST-309 “Viper Tongue” poked up above his right shoulder.
He crashed through the false-wall to the sound of crackling polyglass and the hiss of depressurizing air. His suit jets fired, keeping him on his feet as he skidded into a room full of nude artificials and a handful of barons and baronesses.
Identifying friendlies, locking in firing solution, Prospero said, controlling the shell’s combat systems.
Jackal-One down, he transmitted as the first of the artificials lunged at him with hands outstretched.
Still skidding forward into the crowd of white synthetic bodies, Nero drew the Viper Tongue from his back and swung it in a wide arc as he passed the first of Zalor’s robotic bodyguards. The vibrating monoblades on either side of the forked-barrel carbine sliced clean through the artificial’s head just above the peak of its nose. Sparks flew from its mechanical brain and its body froze in place. Nero leaned his shoulder into the next and stopped his forward momentum by transferring it into his target. The artificial, some kind of fisherman with a rod in his hand, was propelled backward through the office door.
Weapons free, flechette mode, Nero transmitted as he swung his Viper up and opened fire. A triangular reticle appeared over targets in his UI. The weapon hammered and sang like the beat of a drum and the sharpening of a blade all at once. Hypersonic clusters of metal slivers tore through gray, artificial muscle. Three more of Zalor’s brood fell.
An artificial hit him from the side, clanging against the neckless helmet of his shell. Grabbing the android’s head with one hand, Nero sent it flying out through the shattered wall. The next came at him with a bladed polearm, swinging it down at his shoulder. He caught the weapon and fired the Viper into the its stomach, tearing it in half.
The last came at him from the other side. His muscles burned with the thrill of combat and Cephalon technology. Even with its inhuman speed the art
ificial wasn’t fast enough. Nero twisted his hips and sent his leg up into the air, then crashed it down on the android just as it reached for him. The heel of his armored boot sent the thing’s head into its torso and out through its groin. Its body dropped to its knees over its caved-in head, which bore a look of pure confusion.
The rest of the platoon landed in the office, further damaging the window and forcing the barons against the inner wall. Vipers sang, and then he saw her.
VoQuana, Prospero stated. Tell the others to get out of—
“I surrender.” The VoQuana dropped to her knees.
Nero held up his hand so the platoon wouldn’t reduce her to paste. She was a danger to them, but not to him, not with Kiertah’s nanomachines flowing through his blood. He leveled his Viper at her and she dropped all the way to the ground with her hands over the back of her oblong head.
“We all surrender, Nero Graves. Confer with your colleagues in orbit. Our fleet is not attacking.”
Prospero?
Connecting… It’s true. Their fleet is holding position with weapons powered down.
“Don’t try anything,” he said, jabbing an armored finger in her direction. Suspicious, but considering the threat neutralized for now, he turned his attention to the barons in the room.
“I guess I need to start calling you Premier.” He grinned, though he knew Cylus Keltan couldn’t see it. With a thought he triggered the domed head of his armor. It split down the middle and the halves slid onto his shoulders. “Long time, no see, Baron.”
“Nero!” Premier Keltan shouted. The fear vanished from his face, replaced by a grin.
He nodded, then turned his attention to the man with the blue eyes glaring hate his way.
“Baron Zalor Revenant, I told you I’d be back.”
“And here you are,” he spat.
“Premier Keltan,” he said without removing his gaze from Baron Revenant. “As I am no longer a Praetor, and my authority in Star Corps is temporary for the moment, I’m wondering if—”
“You are hereby instated as an officer of the Confederate Space Authority, and a member of the Umbral Service.” Premier Keltan cut him off.
Deep Hydra Page 46
