Endless Night (The Guild Wars Book 3)

by Tim C. Taylor

  “Standby,” said Gadzo, whose face had shifted from dismay to irritation, and then split into a grin. “Looping in Endeavour.”

  “Jenkins, this is Holshak of the Endeavour. We found the source of the orbital strike.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s a satellite. Local catalogue number J-37 Beta. Just a standard comm sat, been in orbit for centuries.”

  “Don’t think I’m not grateful, Captain Holshak, but can you explain why you’ve fingered this particular satellite before I start blasting the planet’s communication network to slag?”

  “My ship was commissioned by the Science Guild to study stellar anomalies in the Spine Nebula. Funding was cut suddenly. The project unexpectedly found itself with massive debts, which meant that scientists and crew had to sell themselves out on indentured contracts, and I picked up this ship for a song. It’s not fast, and it’s hold is small, but its sensors are the best in the nebula. I have the video now. Transmitting.”

  It was an unremarkable communication satellite. A small, functional cuboid with Union-standard docking ports and communication arrays. There were scores of such satellites around a billion worlds in the Union. They were as unremarkable as the water running in pipes under a city, like the power grid that fed electricity to homes and businesses. They were always there, and always ignored except on rare occasions when they went wrong.

  The only thing to mark out satellite J-37 Beta was a bulge over its base.

  Branco watched as the bulge extended and two launch sheaths eased out, each with a cargo of a dozen metal darts. An analysis overlay selected one of the launchers, flagging its length with a list of numbers in a wide variety of notations. The Human measurement was 12.7 meters.

  There was a silent puff of flash-frozen reaction gas and the kinetic harpoons were away, slowly but inexorably propelled to their target at the bottom of the planet’s gravity well.

  “I’ve a little more data on the satellite,” Gadzo said. “It’s an active node in the planetary comms network and has been since its launch. I’m seeing standard resupply missions but not anything big enough to carry harpoons. Could have been carried out entirely off grid, of course, but my team is telling me the most likely explanation is that those harpoons were in that satellite before it was deployed.”

  “And when was that?”

  “Let’s see…” Gadzo took a sharp intake of breath. “Looks as if that weapon system has been in orbit since about the time our ancestors were picking up the pieces after the First World War.”

  “What’s the oldest satellite in the network?”

  “According to the records, the entire satellite network was replaced over a period of ten years. The harpoon launcher was one of the first.”

  “Then we have to assume every satellite in orbit around this planet is hostile. Commander, I am formally activating the Patriot Fleet. Unlikely Regret is the flagship, and you are its acting captain. Take the bulk of the fleet with you to interdict the stargate at highguard position. Don’t challenge shipping because I don’t want to antagonize the Cartography Guild if I don’t have to. I want to make any Scythe survivors think twice before running. Your other objective is to take out every satellite. Every single one. Then we’ll figure out what the hell to do with the two orbital hubs and every other star system in the Spine Nebula. For all we know, they’re hostile too.”

  “We’ll take out J-37 Beta, but the rest will have to wait, Skipper. It looks as if the Scythe have just activated their fleet, too.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Sixty

  Bridge, Deltue

  “Deltue, this is Guardian One Actual, we are detecting an explosion. Looks like a comm sat that’s been taken out by a missile. Any idea why?”

  A comm sat? Umlk mused briefly on the implications. Could that satellite have been the source of the orbital bombardment? Maybe, but the less admitted on that topic, the less of a trail there was for the Peacemakers to follow. “Guardian One, I’m not interested in riddles. The entire system can explode as far as I’m concerned. Just get us out of here.”

  “Relax, you’re safe with us. We will form up on you within two minutes.”

  “Good. I’m expediting our stargate transit so it will activate as soon as we arrive. Are you coming through with us?”

  “Yes. Our cover here is blown. We’ll return to Prime Base. Is that your destination?”

  “I cannot speak of such matters.”

  Her pinplants conveyed an urgent message from the sensor officer. He was concerned at the sudden increase in ship activity. Everyone seemed to be making for the gate. Particularly worrying was a group of a dozen ships that had undocked in a suspiciously well-choreographed sequence from the orbital on the far side of the planet. They were blasting through space on what could be interpreted as an intercept course.

  “I expect those ships have been spooked by the orbital explosion,” said Guardian One. “You also let off a nuke, remember? Such things make people skittish.”

  “It was only a small one. A tactical, low-yield device sent as a precision message, not a continental obliteration.”

  “Nonetheless, you crossed the line for some people, even more than you did with those kinetic harpoons. We are tracking all ship traffic and we see no warships.”

  Umlk examined the latest data on the four frigates who claimed to be escorting Deltue. When they’d first announced themselves, they had looked like armed freighters, much like Umlk’s own ship. Since then, they had discarded faring coverings from their hulls to reveal multiple weapon hardpoints and shield generators. Compared to the barely spaceworthy hulks with strap-on missiles and underpowered laser turrets that traipsed around this back of beyond, the four frigates were so superior they may as well be battleships. The only threat she faced came from the frigates, and if they wanted to wipe out Deltue, there was nothing she could do about it.

  Umlk shook the tension out of her tentacles and gave herself permission to relax. She even gave fleeting consideration to updating that flea-ridden Zuul stewing in Hold-1, but she thought better of it. Nominally, Grenshal was in command, but this was her ship. Out here in the dark, her word was law, and it was a long way to the stargate at L5.

  Once they were away from Thananya orbit, the frenetic movement of the local ships eased off into a steady burn for the gate. A burn that matched Deltue’s. Relative positions were locked in, which worried her. If she captained one of those freighters in Deltue’s wake, she would be coasting to the gate to save fuel. It would mean having to wait for another activation, but her bottom line would thank her for it.

  Perhaps they feared being left behind as stragglers.

  An hour into the journey, the freighters began maneuvering.

  “Set Condition 1,” she ordered.

  But as she watched the other ships in her Tri-V, she understood what they were doing. Smaller ships were matching vectors with larger ones, and then clamping on. The increased mass would reduce F11 consumption during hyperspace transit. Their behavior made perfect sense. After fleeing Thananya in panic, they’d now had enough time to calm down and figure out how to save costs. Exactly how a freighter captain should behave.

  “Belay that last order. There’s nothing to see here. Set Condition 3. XO, you have command. I have to stroke that Zuul’s fur to find out what he’s going to do when we reach Prime Base. Then I’ll grab some sleep. If anything’s going to change, it won’t happen until we get to the stargate, and I want to be fresh. I will resume command three hours out from the gate.”

  * * *

  Umlk studied the Tri-V tactical plot displayed in the tube that rose from her command station. They were nearly at the gate now and the Spiner ships hadn’t changed vector in hours.

  Two groups had followed Deltue out from Thananya, remaining in what could be construed as flanking positions if you were suspicious. The dozen ships clustered a thousand klicks off her port quarter had originally been docked on the far side of Thananya from Deltue. Unlike t
he ships to starboard, who were clumped together to save fuel, only one pair had joined together.

  Why hadn’t the others?

  With the firepower of the guardian frigates pledged to Deltue’s protection, she didn’t need to know why, but still it worried at her.

  The two joined ships separated.

  As eleven plots became twelve, they boosted their plasma torches, thrusting hard. The tactical display calculated revised course projections. They were on an intercept course with her ship!

  Deltue was already on the highest alert condition. Even so, a sudden sense of excitement and tension passed through the water of her bridge.

  “Guardian One,” she called.

  “We see the threat, Umlk. We are accelerating to come between you and the potential hostiles.”

  “Potential? They look pretty damned ill-disposed to me.”

  “Perhaps. Maintain course. We’re meeting the threat.”

  “Acknowledged.” To her own crew, she said, “Tactical, what in Entropy’s pits are we facing?”

  “They’re all armed freighters. Largest is the Honest Profit, registered to a Zuul company on Kappa-Whemel; it’s been working the Spine Nebula trade routes for 415 years. Unlikely Regret, free trader with a Human captain. Trading for 36 years in the nebula.”

  “Don’t give me a trade almanac. I want to know what military threat they present.”

  “The ships have all been here for decades. Some of them for centuries. They’re just Spine Nebula merchant shipping. It’s not as if they’re a—”

  Umlk and the rest of the bridge crew watched in silence as the merchant ships launched a spread of thirty missiles at Deltue. “Not like they’re a Spine Nebula navy? Is that what you were going to tell me, Tactical?”

  Although she huffed through her gills, Umlk kept her posture dominant and relaxed for the benefit of the crew. The truth was her insides trembled with excitement. “Launch countermeasures. Helm, evasion course. Tactical, divert power to port shield array.”

  “Umlk, I told you to maintain course.”

  She ignored Guardian One. Her Tri-V flickered as Deltue re-routed power through electrical systems that often struggled to cope cleanly with her many hidden upgrades.

  Nonetheless, the refresh to her port shield capacitor throbbed with additional power. Pressure waves reflected through the water in the bridge as Deltue’s high-powered maneuvering engines shook randomness into her vector.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Sixty-One

  “Deltue,” said Guardian One Actual. “I told you to maintain course.”

  “Are you blind? We are under attack.”

  “Maintain course, Deltue. Guardians Three and Four are escort frigates. They can’t protect you effectively while you are undergoing hard maneuvers. Maintain your vector.”

  Umlk’s maw irised open and closed as she thought. She could hardly say she placed any trust in her escort because she didn’t even know who they truly were, but it didn’t appear she had any choices. “Helm, belay that maneuver order,” she said on a local channel, “but be ready for evasive maneuvers in case those escorts turn on us. Tactical, ready point defenses and keep manual targeting trained on our escorts.”

  “Returning to previous course, aye,” Helm acknowledged. “Revised ETA to gate, seven minutes.” Umlk watched the tracks update in his Tri-V column as Guardians One and Two raced ahead under hard gees to close on the rebel rabble. Guardians Three and Four held back, to protect Deltue’s port flank. They fired a barrage of anti-missile missiles that transformed most of the incoming ordnance into a flurry of explosions. The resulting curtain of fire and radiation temporarily obscured the battle between the other frigates and the Spiner fleet.

  The two escort frigates fired their lasers at the incoming missiles that had survived their first line of defense. One by one, the surviving missiles blew into fresh and ever closer explosions.

  All but one.

  “One missile still inbound,” reported the tactical officer. “Firing port laser. No effect. Our escorts report they’re firing, too. No effect. Missile must have some serious ablative armor. Point defense batteries firing. Shields raised to maximum.”

  It was the crude point defense battery with its high volume of tungsten dart fire that saved them, raking the final missile until it burst into a fireball, the shockwave washing over the Deltue harmlessly.

  “Gate ETA five minutes,” Helm reported.

  As they emerged from the field of explosions, Umlk’s Tri-V column flashed to indicate it was updating with revised data now that the sensor suite had a clearer field of view. To Deltue’s port side, the blue dots that represented Guardians One and Two had vanished.

  That was bad, but worse was happening to starboard.

  “Gate-bound traffic burning hard to come about,” reported Tactical.

  Those ships weren’t running for the gate. They were flanking Deltue. “Mark them as hostile.” Umlk’s Tri-V flickered and suddenly the three surviving blue ships were surrounded by a sea of red.

  “Hostiles are firing at our escorts,” Tactical reported. “From all sides. Do we return fire?”

  “Negative. Keep power in reserve for shields. Allow our escorts to do their job.”

  Umlk swapped a tactical map for real-time images. The enemy fleet was concentrating its fire on Guardian Three, whose shields flared in the dark of space with high-energy radiation and a sparkle of exotic particles. Guardians One and Two, meanwhile, as far as the computer could guess, were now two of the larger debris fields glowing faintly off the port quarter.

  “Hard burn, Helm. I want 7Gs all the way through the gate. Signals,” she had to wait a moment as the sudden increase in pressure across her body made her internal organs ripple into new positions. “Contact, the gate master.”

  The stargate was maintained and administered by a small team led by a split-trunked chubby Sumatozou in a module attached to the gate itself. These representatives of the Cartography Guild maintained strict guild neutrality when fighting broke out in or around the gates, as it often did. Freedom of navigation must be maintained, was one of the guild’s public mantras, though there was nothing “free” about the gate network. Still, few dared threaten the operation of the stargates and risk incurring the wrath of the Cartography Guild.

  Strict neutrality was the public facade, but it was obvious to Umlk that the primary mission of the Cartography Guild was not to maintain the gate system and register planetary licenses, but to maximize their profits. And the guild’s senior employees took that guild mission to heart. It was not a play you took lightly or often, but sometimes, the gate master could be bribed or threatened.

  The face of the Sumatozou appeared in Umlk’s Tri-V, twitching its bifurcated trunk.

  “Gate master, I wish to accelerate our transit schedule.”

  “I have already expedited your transit,” replied the gate master. “I cannot do so again. You must decelerate or the gate will not be active when you pass through.”

  “Expedite our transit again, gate master. I know you have the capability to do this.”

  “Technically…perhaps. Though I neither confirm nor deny.” The Sumatozou scratched at its dusty mottled skin with stubby fingers. “But it is not my interest to do so. If we were unreasonably flexible with you, Captain Umlk, everyone would expect such flexibility, and where would be the profit in that?”

  “How much?”

  The guild master didn’t even hesitate. “Fifteen million credits.”

  Umlk’s maw irised, but she didn’t have time to be angry. “That is outrageous. I will offer—”

  “Sixteen million. Insult me again and the price will rise once more.”

  “No, gate master. You will not charge me a single credit.”

  The alien snorted down its trunks. “And why is that, Captain?”

  Umlk waited several valuable seconds until some of the alien’s arrogance had boiled away. If you couldn’t buy off a gate master, occasionally you
could threaten them. Umlk knew she was on very dangerous ground. She was about to play a wildcard she didn’t fully understand herself. “You will do this because the Infinite Flow passes through your gate.”

  The alien’s trunk paled several shades at once. “The gate will activate for you.” The gate master made an angry rumble at the back of its throat. “There will be no additional charge.”

  As Guardians Three and Four fell behind to protect Deltue’s rear, Umlk reassessed the battle zone. They faced not only armed freighters, but orbital scows, pinnaces, and shuttles armed with bolted-on lasers and missile tubes, although there were no signs of further missile attacks, having presumably fired their entire arsenal. How Guardians One and Two had succumbed to such a paltry foe was a worrying mystery, but they were two minutes from the gate now. She couldn’t see that they were in danger. The escorts would be enough. Just.

  The two largest Spiner ships hadn’t engaged with the Guardian frigates and were still thrusting hard to reach the gate before Deltue. Umlk’s pinplants automatically supplied data in her pinview about the Honest Profit and Unlikely Regret, but they couldn’t answer the most important question of all. “What are they doing?” she murmured.

  Both ships extinguished their plasma torches and then spun about to face her ship head on. “Take them out,” she ordered the tactical officer.

  Deltue’s forward laser and belly turret engaged the enemy, but the energy pumped into them dissipated around their shields.

  “Keep firing. Reroute all power to lasers.”

  “But, sir,” retorted the tactical officer, “our enemies surround us and are armed with lasers. We can’t cut power to shields.”

  “Don’t question me. Our enemies are engaged with the escort frigates and the shield capacitors will provide enough power until we are through the gate. It’s those two that worry me. What in entropy’s dark curses are they doing?”