Superdreadnought 5

by C H Gideon

  “Well, he didn’t say things had been made better,” Tactical demurred. “Otherwise we’d be following the directions of an automated system. Looks like all he’s done is plug meatbags into place.”

  “I’ll plug you into place,” Jiya warned, laughing.

  Reynolds turned his attention to the energy sphere that protected the planet, and he grinned as a small section, just large enough to accommodate the SD Reynolds, opened. The ship approached it under Ria’s control.

  “We’re being scanned,” XO reported, “but not deeply.”

  Reynolds chuckled. “We’ve been through this before. Gorad knows what we’re packing, but this is likely a first for the physical crew he has manning the defense ring entry.”

  The AI pointed to a section outside the ship and zoomed the screen in. Geroux clapped when she spotted the mixed faces of Grindlovians and Telluride staring at them out of a massive window on the ring.

  “They’re standing up!” Jiya noted. “That’s amazing!”

  The last time the SD Reynolds had been there, the Grindlovians had been crippled by their extreme apathy when it came to day to day mundanity. They had spent their lives bound to electric chairs, the Telluride serving their every wish and whim.

  That clearly wasn’t the case anymore.

  There was an equal split of races in the control room they passed, and Jiya was happy to see the two groups getting along and working side by side.

  “Shuttle incoming,” Ria reported once they were through the shield and it had closed behind them. “Detecting lifeforms aboard.”

  “He sure is taking this integration idea to the max, huh?” Tactical grunted. “‘A meatbag for every occasion’ should be his new slogan.”

  “Or ‘One less AI to micromanage everything,’” Jiya snapped back, laughing.

  “You wound me,” Tactical muttered.

  “I wish,” she told him as the shuttle entered the hangar bay and settled in, waiting for them.

  “You’ve got the conn, XO,” Reynolds told him. “We’re all heading down for a look-see.”

  “Have fun storming the planet,” Tactical replied.

  Reynolds, Asya, Jiya, and Ria left the bridge and made their way to the hangar bay. San Roche and L’Eliana joined General Maddox, Takal, Geroux, Ka’nak, who were already there.

  “This is one hell of an adventure,” Ka’nak said, looking at the entire crew. “I can’t remember the last time all of us went dirtside together. Shit, even Ria is going.”

  The ensign shrugged. “I like my job. What can I say?”

  Jiya grabbed the girl and tugged her over beside her and Geroux. “Don’t let that brute tell you how to live your life. Do what makes you happy.”

  “Yet I’m regularly told not to drink,” Takal said with a sly grin.

  “Just get in the shuttle,” Geroux playfully barked, pushing Takal up the ramp.

  “I’m going, I’m going,” the inventor said, raising his arms in surrender.

  A few minutes later, the entire crew was seated and strapped in, and the shuttle lifted off, exiting the hangar bay, and returning to Grindlevik 3.

  Jiya stared at the pilots as the shuttle descended.

  It was two Grindlovians, a male and a female.

  One caught her staring and smiled at her.

  “This is fantastic,” Jiya told the female. “I love seeing you pilot the craft. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Fulla Hirvin, and my co-pilot is Vor Gerfur,” she answered. “There are many of us now.” She gestured to her legs, which appeared almost normal, although there was still the slightest bit of atrophy remaining. They looked thin. “My people work many of the jobs that require a technical mind and a slightly less athletic body. We have become pilots and executives, and all manner of workers.”

  Geroux clapped, grinning.

  Jiya noticed they wore plain uniforms, but there were hints of Telluride in the design, bright patches at the shoulders and collars. It was subtle—Jiya presumed that was because it was a work uniform—but the influence of the other race on the planet was definitely there.

  “It’s good to see that things are working out,” Jiya told her.

  “We’ll be on the ground soon. Then you can see the full extent of what your visit opened up for us.” She turned back to the console, and Jiya let her work in silence.

  Not long after, the ship was on the ground and the hatch was open, ramp down.

  The crew stepped out onto the tarmac of what might as well have been another world than the one they’d last visited.

  Where there had been nothing but automated vehicles darting back and forth across the landing field, doing all the menial labor and repairs, there was now a virtual explosion of Grindlovians and Telluride.

  They worked in unison, loading and unloading supplies and equipment, clambering over the ships parked there, making repairs or adjustments, and much more Jiya didn’t recognize.

  Some of the Grindlovians were using the powered leg devices she’d seen them in last, aiding their speed and movement, but it was clear these were being used as an enhancement, not a requirement.

  The Grindlovians looked healthy and strong, and though they couldn’t compete with the Telluride at this stage of their evolution, it was clear they were determined to try.

  As the crew stared, taking the new world in, a vehicle approached and parked alongside them. Gorad sat in the driver’s seat. His android body had been upgraded since they’d seen him last, although the basic features remained the same, providing a nice constant.

  The other AI waved them in.

  “Good to see you, Reynolds,” Gorad said. “And you too, San Roche and L’Eliana,” he told his people, who’d gone into space with Reynolds.

  The pair grinned and waved, clearly happy to be home, if only for a short while.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Gorad,” the other AI replied, smirking.

  The crew clambered into the vehicle, and it started off.

  Jiya noted that even the AI seemed to be doing things manually more than before. There were actual controls in front of him that he manipulated.

  The ride into Goranton was quick but telling all the same.

  No longer was the Grindlevik 3 society split into two parts. The crew marveled at seeing a mix of races walking along the sidewalks, Telluride and Grindlovians interacting as equals rather than masters and servants.

  There were some of the powered chairs here and there, but not many. A couple were even being used by Telluride, the squat, powerful people having altered the vehicles to fit their bigger frames comfortably.

  Those in the chairs, however, didn’t look weak. They simply looked to be taking advantage of the opportunity to sit and relax while traveling about their day-to-day business.

  The surrounding buildings showed the same evolution. Where everything had been a horrid gray outside the Telluride part of town, now color was everywhere. There were still smatterings of gray here and there, but there had been an obvious merging of the two styles.

  Art decorated many of the surfaces, and it was clear to Jiya that it wasn’t only being produced by the Telluride, based on the style. Grindlovians had clearly been hard at work decorating their homes and businesses.

  Ria stared at everything, wide-eyed and curious.

  “Strange sight, is it not?” Gorad asked as they pulled into the compound that housed the AI.

  “It is, indeed,” Reynolds admitted. “I’m amazed by how quickly the two sides have reconciled and come together.”

  Gorad parked the vehicle and climbed out, ushering the crew after him. He made his way to his compound, and although the doors opened of their own accord, a nicely dressed Grindlovian greeted them and waved the group inside.

  Much like everywhere else, the plain outpost had been altered, color and lights all over the place and art decorating the walls, making the compound far more welcoming that it had been before.

  “Things are not yet perfect,” Gorad admitted as h
e led the crew into what had been the council chambers the last time they’d been there, “but we are certainly on our way to a pleasant parity I could never have imagined before your arrival.”

  Reynolds smiled, glad he and the crew could help them better their world.

  That had been the plan all along.

  As they entered the room, Jiya noticed that the council chambers had also been renovated.

  She didn’t see any of the portals in the floor that allowed for the Grindlovian council to rise up out of it. Now, long seats like pews lined the room, leading to a casual set of tables at the front. She recognized some of the people sitting there.

  L’Willow was there, and L’Sofee stood behind her in a position of support.

  She hadn’t wanted to be part of the council, but had chosen to help lead her people through the changes to come. Jiya smiled, realizing the Telluride female still remained strong in her convictions.

  However, none of the original Grindlovians sat on the council any longer. Jiya was surprised to see new faces she didn’t know.

  “Come in and have a seat,” Gorad told them.

  The group ran over and dished out friendly hugs and greetings to the Telluride they knew, San Roche and L’Eliana garnering the most excited of them. They were then introduced to the Grindlovians on the council.

  “This is Vor Tye, Fulla Ni, and Fulla Bel.” L’Sofee gestured to each in turn.

  “Pleasure to meet you all,” Jiya said, speaking for the entire crew.

  And she meant it.

  There was none of the lingering hostility that had been there before, the Grindlovians holding tight to their positions and power.

  Those in their spots now were happy, and had obviously benefited from the change in society. They looked fit, and had none of the sunken cheeks or apathetic slump about them that had previously defined the Grindlovians.

  The shift was startling.

  The crew mingled and chatted away as Reynolds and Gorad spoke.

  “Have you rid yourself of the cult yet?” Gorad asked.

  Reynolds shook his head. “Not yet, but we’re working on it. We just captured the bastard who’s been following us around in a superdreadnought and destroyed his ship. Now we’re working on finding his master and ending it for good. That’s part of the reason we’ve stopped by.”

  Gorad nodded. “What can I help you with?”

  Reynolds waved Geroux over. She plodded up a moment later.

  “Show Gorad the computer we got from Jora’nal,” Reynolds told her.

  She produced it, handing it over to the android.

  “It has complex security encryption,” Reynolds explained. “It’s one we’ll break quickly enough, but I figured we could kill three birds with one stone and rest here on Grindlevik 3 while we avoid being a target of the cult, as well as getting your help speeding up the encryption-breaking,” the AI said. “With all of us working on it, I think we can hack it within a few hours.”

  Gorad remained silent as he examined the small computer, turning it on and watching the scroll of information across the screen. He made a face as he looked, identifying the code and security aspects.

  “I think this will be easy enough with all of us chipping away at it,” he agreed. “This isn’t anywhere near as complex as other codes I’ve seen, but it has an interesting feature: a resurrecting code wall.”

  Geroux nodded. “That’s what’s slowing me down. Every time I hack one of the firewalls, another one pops up at the end of the line, forcing me to adjust and come at it a different way. I just can’t seem to get past more than one or two at a time before another is put into place.”

  “This is definitely a system that requires speed to crack it and shut off the resurrection code before it can respawn firewalls,” Gorad noted. “With all three of us tied into the system, chipping away at different firewalls so they drop all at the same time, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Then let’s get to work…if you don’t mind,” Reynolds said.

  Gorad shook his head. “Not at all. We should have this cracked before dinner.”

  “Did someone say dinner?” Ka’nak asked from across the room.

  “I did indeed.” Gorad laughed as he ushered everyone out of the room. “Please, dear council, take our guests to see what changes their presence has wrought on our world, and we three will work the puzzle of this device.” He held up the computer.

  Reynolds nodded to the crew when they looked his way for approval. “Oh, and, Takal, do not wander too far. I want you and Gorad to sit down and go over your project with Xyxl and provide his thoughts.”

  “I’ll be available when he is,” Takal assured the AI. “Both Xyxl and I would appreciate his input.”

  Reynolds nodded and waved the crew on to enjoy themselves. There was work to be done, but it would be good for the crew to relax as much as possible.

  Given what was coming, he had no idea when the next battle would start or when it would end.

  Whenever it happened, he wanted to be ready.

  And they would be.

  Chapter Nine

  “The Voice is hailing you, Master,” one of Phraim-’Eh’s disciples told him, easing open the door to his chambers after being invited in.

  Phraim-’Eh growled, knowing, much as he had with Jora’nal, that an unexpected message was never good news.

  “Route the call through on my private channel,” he told the disciple, who muttered his assurances that he would before darting from the room, closing the door behind him with reverent silence.

  It was but a few seconds later when the monitor buzzed. Phraim-’Eh waited a moment before activating the comm.

  “I am not in the mood to be disappointed, Voice,” Phraim-’Eh told his servant, the edges of the words sharp.

  “My sincerest apologies, Master, but I have grave news,” the Voice answered, and Phraim-’Eh could hear the terror in his warbling tone.

  “I expected no less,” Phraim-’Eh stated, biting back his frustration at the utter incompetence of his disciples.

  How difficult can it be to destroy a Federation superdreadnought and its crew?

  “I have received a report that Jora’nal is dead,” the Voice went on.

  Phraim-’Eh grunted and closed his eyes, reining in his fury. It would do him no good to unleash his rage while aboard his command vessel, the Godhand.

  When Phraim-’Eh said nothing, the Voice went on.

  “Disciples remaining behind tell me that the crew of the SD Reynolds attacked him in his headquarters on the planet, trapping him inside.”

  “I know all this, Voice,” the god told his disciple. “Tell me something I do not.”

  “The Federation crew blew the place up without mercy, taking out nearly all of our people on Aspar as well as a portion of the city in their eagerness to lay waste to Jora’nal. What foothold we had there is now gone, only a handful of your worshipers remaining alive.” The Voice swallowed hard. “And—”

  “There is more?” Phraim-’Eh asked, and he could hear the Voice struggling to speak despite the distance.

  “The Pillar has also been destroyed, Master,” the Voice informed him. “The SD Reynolds struck it down before slipping away in the aftermath of their destructive visit.”

  “Were they followed? Do we know where they have gone?”

  “No, I’m afraid not, Master. We had no one there tasked to do so, and no other ships in the area, so we have no idea where they Gated to. It could be anywhere, and without the Pillar, we have no way of tracking them.”

  “You seem to have ignored my disinterest in disappointment today,” Phraim-’Eh said, growling low in his throat.

  The Godhand trembled beneath him as his power fought to be free. He pulled the reins of his will tighter and resisted the urge to tear his ship down around him.

  He said nothing for a long while, and the Voice knew better than to break the lingering silence.

  Only when Phraim-’Eh felt he could control his
temper did he speak again.

  “How near are you to Aspar?”

  “I can be there within a few hours,” the Voice answered. Phraim-’Eh heard the question in his voice before he even spoke it. “But with Jora’nal gone, do you still need me there?”

  “I do,” the god answered. “Jora’nal was a fool. He left us no means to track the Federation superdreadnought, and I have no faith in his effort to obfuscate his tracks, let alone mine, as evidenced by how quickly the Federation scum found him.

  “Go to Aspar and ask about, and see if there is some clue that will lead us to the SD Reynolds. More importantly, I would have you be certain Jora’nal left no way for Reynolds to trace me back to my location. Until I have prepared the fleet, I want no interruptions from upstart pawns.”

  “Your will is mine, Lord,” the Voice replied. “I will report my findings to you as soon as I have answers.”

  “As I’m sure you understand,” Phraim-’Eh warned, “do not fail me, Voice. My patience is thin of late. I will not tolerate any further disappointment.”

  “I will not fail you, Lord,” the Voice assured him.

  Phraim-’Eh chuckled and killed the connection, believing such promises out of the hands of such a puny creature as the Voice.

  Reynolds had proven to be a worthy foe, defeating his minions time and again and spoiling his every plot to advance his agenda across the galaxy.

  That would end now.

  No longer would Reynolds be a thorn in Phraim-’Eh’s side. Around him, his fleet grew, ship after ship arriving and falling into place alongside the Godhand. Soon, his entire armada would be amassed, and he would strike out to find Reynolds and confront the pawn of Bethany Anne and her accursed Federation.

  He would wring the life from her sentient machine, and revenge himself upon the foul creatures that inhabited it.

  Phraim-’Eh smiled at that thought, pleasure filling him, his blood tingling in his veins.

  Calming at the thought, he returned to his seat and settled back to await word from the Voice and for his fleet to be ready.

  He would embark on a journey to lay waste to the SD Reynolds soon.

  Then he would set his sights higher.