by Ken Wolfson
8th Day of the War
"Bridge to Commander," Adrian's radio crackled. He pushed his coffee mug away across his desk.
"COS here, go ahead."
"EARS detected a single signature with artificial radiation emissions drifting near our vector. Range is 100 million kilometers. Hull profile is capitol sized; we can't get an exact read on the classification," Major Kalf Winchester, OIC of the second watch, said. "Her blue-shift is constant bearing steadily decreasing range."
"She's adrift," Adrian said. He listed the possibilities. It could be a derelict crewed eternally by mummified corpses, or a recent wreck bearing valuable salvage, or someone else playing dead like they were. “Threat evaluation?"
"At the moment, minimal. Even if she fired up her drives and burned for us she'd need several hours to reach combat range. I advise take your time, sir."
"Copy. Designate the contact as TOWER 1 and continue passive scans. Notify me if she shows signs of life," Adrian said. Vindication's situation was too dire to allow him the luxury of playing safe; he had to investigate that wreck.
"Yes, sir. Bridge out."
Adrian pounded his coffee. Amelie squeezed into the shower with him.
They finished breakfast and walked up to the bridge. Officer country was unusually quiet. Exhaustion from the past few days had taken its toll and the bedraggled officers limped about with few words. Morale was dropping.
"Commander on the bridge," Amelie announced. The second watch stood and saluted.
Adrian returned it. "At ease. OIC, situation report?"
As the Officer in Control, Winchester was Vindication's acting commander. Since Adrian had signed off on her position, any mistakes she made hit his record. She sat in Amelie's leather-backed chair and commanded.
"EYES got a telescope on her. She's a carrier, fleet line class. We also read her ID off her hull. She's the Serpentia, 002-4583. All ID checks out and their hull config matches that of a Tychos-class fleet carrier. We'll pass in 3 hours, range of 5-mil kilometers."
Adrian took his seat and stared at the neutral white signature drifting on TACNET. His centuries old gilded chair belonged to the COS. According to fleet regulation 1057-CA-23, no one else in the universe was legally permitted to place their rear on the black and gold leather.
"Set condition 2 and put the fighters in the tubes," he said. He didn't trust anything after the fight with Molitor. "Helm, pre-heat the plasma drives for emergency burn. And comms, monitor for transmissions. Be prepared to drop some EWAR if they attack us."
"Yes, sir," Zoey said. She threw on her headset and opened two gel-keyboards.
Two hours passed while their ranges closed. The carriers tumbled end over end, staring each other down like a couple of nervous crushes in a bar.
The false anonymity ended when Serpentia's signature blossomed with twenty interceptor dots.
"Launch our own CSP, and hail them," Adrian said. His Furies burst into space and took up close orbit, triple-40mm cannons trained on the unknown.
"I think they're just as scared as us. Look how defensive their CSP is playing," Amelie said. The enemy CSP was in identical formation, waiting braced for violence.
"We'll find out."
"Digital handshake has been accepted. Serpentia has an audio message for us," Zoey said. She played it over the intercom.
"Armada Supercarrier Vindication, you'd better have a damn good reason for being out here. Send a full transponder signal, or you'll be treated as hostile." The woman's voice on the other end quavered with terror. It was a poor bluff. Adrian obliged whoever was on the other end, and then some.
"Serpentia, this is Commander Adrian Huxton of Hallard's Armada, PID 041-7723. COS of the Vindication TID 000-0001. Disclose your loyalty to the fleet or Emoche Hulle, or die." He laid on the tension in his voice to drive his point point home.
Ten minutes passed while whoever was on Serpentia's bridge weighed their options. They were in instantaneous comms range.
The signature turned green. "She's given us a friendly transponder reply," Zoey said.
"Commander Huxton, it’s been a long time since we've seen friendlies," a woman replied in a ragged voice. "This is Major Mirra Gorden, Fleet ID zero-two-two, alpha, one-one-four-two, acting COS of the Carrier Serpentia."
"Serpentia, maintain distance until I can confirm you're friendly," Adrian said.
"Copy, we understand."
"What's your story?" Adrian said.
"We were attached to the second Gehenna fleet, on exercise at Farrigan," Mirra began. A tingle ran down Adrian's spine. "The old COS was Lord Commander Anjen Tosir, sister of Lady Anna Tosir, elected governor of Farrigan." Adrian knew both the names. The Venkos controlled Tollyon, and therefore Wicked Creek. Gehenna was more diverse and densely populated. The Tosirs were one of several houses competing for control.
"Lady Anna called her sister and the other second fleet officers to a banquet commemorating the exercise. They broadcast a speech from some man named Emoche Hulle and the violence started. Anna murdered her own sister, and then fired on her fleet with Farrigan Anchorage's sentry batteries. I'm down to half a fighter wing. I also sacrificed the rest of my task group to escape Farrigan."
"Where's the rest of Second Fleet?" Adrian said.
"No idea. A quarter of the fleet escaped, but they fled on their own vectors."
Seventy-thirty odds she'd stab him in the back the moment he let his guard down. After all, if Molitor was working for Emoche, then who wasn't? He looked at Amelie for input.
"I say we bring Mirra and her XO aboard for a chat," she said. "We'll drift into the jump shelf five minutes; if they're hostile we can just run."
"Major Gorden, you may enter formation with Vindication. Come aboard alone in a shuttle so we can talk in person," Adrian replied over the radio. That was a cold introduction, but damn if he wasn't getting himself killed by a couple traitors.
"Yes, sir. I'm coming aboard. Please don't fire. We are friendly and loyal to the banner of the rising sun."
#
Chapter Seventeen: Parlay
There was Serpentia orbiting at a million klicks, 1500 meters of tungstanium with a symmetrical hull and angular prow. Four hanger bays were slung to either flank instead of five. She lacked the torpedo bays of a supercarrier and relied solely on her fighter wing for offensive power.
"Cage, you have the conn. Amelie and I are going to meet our new guests," Adrian said.
"Are you sure you don't want me handling this? They could be gunning for the fearsome Adrian Huxton," Cage said. Adrian had to smile at the Major's devotion.
"I appreciate it, but XO can take care of me." Amelie patted her rapier hilt. Adrian checked his own gladius to ensure its presence at his hip. Sure it was ready, he stepped out of the bridge. Amelie followed.
"Odds this is a trap?" she said.
"Keep a hand on your sword," Adrian said. They walked fifty meters aft and down two flights of stairs to the officer's conference. Four troopers stood guard outside, two corporals, a technical Sergeant and a burly Staff Sergeant.
"Alenkot, report," Adrian said. The big man saluted.
"Two guests inside; one male and one female. I searched them and found only melee weapons. The man's got a rapier and the woman has an unconventional. Both their comps were scanned and found clean, though there's an EMP stashed in the room as a security measure."
"What about bio scans?" Amelie said.
"All clean. No artificial elements being exuded by their breathing or anything else indicative of bio-modding with lethal intent," Alenkot said. Adrian was satisfied.
"Accompany us inside. Everyone else stand guard."
"Sir." Alenkot yanked the door open and led them into the conference.
Awaiting them was a most radically contrasting combination of human beings. Leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, was a towering woman with black skin. She was built, muscular from what was probably years of high-gravity workouts in the private gym pods. She
glowered at Adrian with a furrowed brow. Her hair was worn down in dreadlocks, dyed red in a tribute to the fleet that thoroughly impressed Adrian. Her uniform incorporated light plate armor with a chest-piece and light limb guards. She wore a war axe across her shoulders, with a black carbon tech head capable of crushing armor to eviscerate the human body beneath. He recognized the build of the war axe, any soldier who’d spent time in the expanse would; Varium. She was from the cradle of humanity.
Beside her reclined a scraggly officer with white hair and a face creased by age. He was in the 'fuck protocol' stage of his career; slouched to one side in a bold selection of comfort over dignity. His top button was undone, and his dress shirt tails hung beneath his jacket. His sky blue sash wore coffee stains on the silk. A thick handlebar mustache was all the armor he sported, while gold-framed shades ensured he humped through his retirement tour in style.
"Major Gorden," he said, and offered his hand. She shook it, and clamped down so hard his bones groaned. Adrian did his usual ritual with the hand-crushing dominance-demanding type. He pushed the pain out of his mind and smiled politely while she tired herself out. "A pleasure." Her hostility was unwelcome, but not unexpected.
"You too, Commander," she said. She gave Amelie a brief handshake that didn't involve crushing bone.
"And you are?" Adrian said, and offered his hand to the XO.
"I'd be Roverra Meironara, the acting XO of the Serpentia," the other man said. He tried to shake from his seat, but Adrian yanked his hand back. Disrespect was unacceptable to fleet protocol, no matter how close to a pension one was. Meironara stood, shrugged, and tried again. They shook quick and withdrew in a hurry.
"Let's exchange stories. Give me the full details in the dust. What went down?" Adrian said. He pulled out a seat for Amelie, then sat down himself. Alenkot took up station by the door, arms at his sides to draw gladius. Mirra slid into a seat besides the Shadow, her war axe clanking on the chair in a way that indicated fresh gouges in the plastic. Her glare never left Adrian's face. Adrian had provided a tray of water and wraps of flavored paste, but none of those had been touched.
"We're from the Second Gehenna Armada. I was second officer onboard the Serpentia a month earlier. We were at anchorage at Farrigan. Lady Anna Tosir, elected protector of the Farrigan Republic, invited all flag officers from the Third fleet, PDF, and the major house navies to a banquet in her palace. Minutes after the Lord Admiral Tosir's shuttle touched down, we received a distress call from his personal radio frequency. Our signal was jammed before we could answer. XO Martin Zvedobo put Serpentia on condition two and tried querying House Tosir Control. Instead of replying, they opened fire on us with the planetary sentry railguns and the private fleet of House Tosir and vassals. I took a raiding party to the surface to rescue our Lord Admiral and flag officers."
"Emoche Hulle's minions let you land?" Adrian said. Gehenna was the next region over from Wicked Creek. Emoche's conspiracy grew and grew.
"There were thousands of ships in orbit. Civilians were running everywhere; fleet ships were firing on each other—no one was in control. I landed and found the Lord Admiral and her officers dead. They'd been slaughtered at the banquet table. Lady Anne was still looting their bodies when I arrived. So, I retreated, but not before burying this in her chest." She patted her war axe.
"And then?"
"With the chain of command destroyed, Second Fleet fell apart and was defeated in detail by the rebels before I landed back on Serpentia. Martin was killed in action during the fighting, the bridge was overcome with smoke, and few escaped. I took command from the flight control conning tower, and punched through the enemy fleet with my fighter wing. Serpentia was the only ship I saw escape.
"How'd you end up in Wicked Creek?" Amelie said.
"I went looking for safe harbor. Every outpost I went to was swarmed with these blue-wearing motherfuckers, so I kept going further away," Mirra said. "Do you know who Emoche Hulle is? I'd never heard the name until he gave his speech about reviving humanity's golden age. Would've been convincing if his chosen enforcer hadn't stabbed us in the back without honor."
"Oh, I do. I had a run-in with Emoche during my last tour, out in the Vykhor System, Tyrant's Crescent. I won, and thought that was the end of him; turns out he was far bigger than that. I can't confirm if he's a real prophet, but he's competent, brutal, and has a lot of Wendago backing him up."
"No angels of death in sight, shit are they working for him?" she said. Someone pulled a plug and the anger drained from her face. Fear raced in to fill the void.
"Turn your sensors up to high-planar and head in-system, you'll have quite the introduction," Amelie said.
"How did he cause a conspiracy this large without anyone noticing?" Mirra said. She turned to her XO. "You have any input?"
"Maybe we should tell him all."
"Oh, right. Introduce yourself."
Meironara stood and offered his hand. "Colonel Roverra Meironara, shadow, Ministry of Intelligence Farrigan branch master."
Adrian grabbed his sword as the spy revealed himself right in their midst.
The Ministry of Intelligence didn’t fall under the admiralty’s umbrella of command. Shadows had their own objectives with a higher priority than the fleet, which meant that good folk got caught in the crossfire for some objective they never understood. And he didn't trust someone who could hack his ship.
"Got any ID?"
Meironara drew out a badge. It was gold leaf, with an obsidian eye pressed at its center. The eye's white pupil was made from pre-dark age tech, an infinite light source harvested from their ruined buildings. Adrian didn't need further proof.
"Nice to meet you, shadow." He stood and shook once more.
"Give me your ID for a full scan," Amelie said.
"That's not needed," Adrian said. "The badge is DNA-coded on a hard-crystal matrix. If anyone but its owner picks it up, it explodes." Amelie whistled, but kept her hand on her rapier.
"Correct, Commander. You know your ministry gear," Meironara said.
"I do. Now, how'd you get in the XO seat?" Adrian raised his eyebrows at Meironara, who cocked a single eyebrow back. All shadows were smug; they let their secret channels and intel privileges get to their heads, and make them think they were something more than human.
"Meironara was a command officer with previous warship experience. I picked up his shuttle before leaving the system. At the time it was good enough, but he's proven an extremely competent administrator, which is what I need," Mirra said.
"What do you want?" Meironara said.
"Who is Emoche Hulle, what does he want, and how many sleeper cells does he have left?" Adrian said.
"Well, intelligence is a funny game, Commander. I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know," he said.
"What are you good for?" Adrian said. Meironara looked genuinely hurt.
"Commander, Farrigan was a dead-end posting, far into the interior of the Systems and with a population so devoted and impoverished that there's no fear of conspiracy," he said. Adrian nodded; his family had lived beneath a factory on Farrigan, and he knew the story too well. "My job was to take money from noble houses to spy on other noble houses to play their great game, and occasionally cover up an assassination. Now, something like the ruling house flipping on the Systems should've been big enough to come up, but I wasn't looking out for it in particular. I'm sorry. I got lazy."
Well, the man apologized, at least. "Alright, no use wasting time over regrets. What do you have that I can use?"
"What right do you have to search us and interrogate us like POWs? I know who you are. You're lucky you still have those Commander's bars," Mirra said. "Maybe Emoche launched his coup now because he knew you'd still be in command."
This situation was too volatile to give weight to personal grievances. "I'm here right now, so you'll have to deal with me. I'm also the only Commander who's vented Emoche and his war band in open combat. So, I don't know what your grievance is, but
there's a religious fanatic trying to kill both of us and our crews, so I suggest you put it aside and think about how we're going to win this war," he said. He gave Mirra a level, blank stare. No outright hostility, but forceful.
"My grievance is that you're getting drummed out of the fleet on charges of incompetence and war crimes. Even though the court martial failed, Lord Tosir knew who you were," she said. "And you expect me to trust you as my CO?"
"I expect you to obey every order Adrian gives, because he outranks you and that's how the chain of command works. If you made it this far you're competent enough to understand that," Amelie said. When Mirra hesitated, she added, "Unless you're saying we've lost, the Systems has dissolved as a military force, hail Emoche, and our ranks mean nothing."
"They're right. We're going nowhere alone," Meironara said.
"Fine. What do you want to do, sir?" Mirra said.
"Regroup, repair, and find out where the front lines are. We're here; that's the first step," Adrian said. Then, to Meironara: "I need a safe place to repair. I repeat: what do you have that I can use?"
"I've got a lot of intel. Most of my cache was lost when the Hullen dropped an orbital strike on the office building that fronted my organization. However, there's a few files on my computer. Again, most of the safe houses I know of are in Gehenna, but I've got one about eight light years from here. I was going to take us there next," he said.
"Start with the safe house," Adrian said.
"The safe house orbits the IPY-2202 system. Its’ barren save for an archaeological dig on a pre-dark age ruin orbiting planet 2. The base itself is a large shipyard and data vault combo meant to act both as a chamber for classified personnel, and a region-wide servicing facility for Ministry craft that can't pass themselves off as civilian ships. I'm not sure it can handle a supercarrier, but it has spare parts of everything from FTL drives to nuclear warheads," Meironara said.
"That's exactly what we need," Amelie said.
"What's the catch?" Adrian said.
"Well, that involves one of my intel files. I received a flash drone tipoff from one of my contacts in the Tyrant's Crescent just weeks ago. I was going to alert Lord Tosir when the attack started. That's why I wasn't atomized with the rest of my staff when the battlecruiser Horry took up low orbit directly overhead and opened fire. We were the first building targeted," Meironara said. He pulled a cigar from his jacket and lit up with a heated coil built into his comp. "I'll get you the file, hang on a second."