Stepping around the command chair without breaking his stride, he walked toward the main holo-stage that dominated the front of the command deck.
The stage currently showed the lifeless Faction ship floating dead in the void. In the corner of the holo-image was a small holding screen with a still image of the colonel waiting for Featherstone.
Featherstone marched straight up to it.
“Inform the colonel that I am ready for him now.”
Knole opened the holding window and the colonel appeared on the holo-stage. The main image of the Faction ship shrank away to the side while the colonel expanded to full size. His head and shoulders appeared in front of Featherstone.
“Did I catch you at a bad time, Charles?” Colonel Toby Lawrence, Commander of the Blue Star Battalion, said.
“No, sir. Sorry to keep you waiting. I was checking on my prisoner.”
“Yes, I have your initial report right here. It’s unusual, to say the least. A ghost ship, you might say.”
“Yes, sir. Something like that.”
“We have reports coming in from all across the system. We have lost contact with several Union civilian ships, and we are receiving communications from fleet vessels across the system of attacks from unknown ships.”
“Have the Faction got their hands on something we haven’t seen before?”
“We don’t think it is Faction,” the colonel said. “We think it’s something from outside of the system. Reports are consistent with your prisoner’s account.”
“Skarak?” Featherstone said. He felt the eyes of his command deck crew fall on him.
“Yes, Major. The Skarak. They have attacked shipping across the system in the last few hours. We have analyzed the attack points, and we think we have a pattern. The tactical intelligence at fleet command correlated the latest attacks with areas where we have lost ships in the last year, all ships lost without a trace. These Skarak have been snatching ships and have managed to remain undetected, leaving us to blame the Faction for our losses. Now we know who was really to blame.”
“So our ships are now surviving the attacks?”
“No,” the colonel said bluntly. “All encounters with the Skarak have resulted in further losses, but now most ships are surviving just long enough to get a distress signal away.”
“You didn’t call personally to tell me this, sir. Something tells me you have a job for the Resolute.”
“Yes, Charles. We have something for you.”
Featherstone nodded and stepped up to his command chair. The image of the colonel grew to fill the holo-stage, appearing at eye level with Featherstone in his command chair.
“We think the areas where ships have been going missing were locations where Skarak ships have been in hiding. The tactical intelligence suggests they have been watching us. Studying us.”
The colonel paused.
Featherstone felt his fist tighten. The thought of the Skarak hiding out in the Scorpio System, taking ships at will, was infuriating.
The colonel took a breath and went on.
“We have identified an area in the belt where several ships have gone missing in the last year. Nothing has passed through that region in the last hundred hours. We want the Resolute to go and take a look.”
“Yes, sir, of course. Just one point, sir. We are currently on an infiltration mission and I have one of our people with the Faction right now.”
“We are aware of your status, Charles. This mission’s priority supersedes your current mission. The Resolute is the closest ship to the location. We want to know what is at this location, but we think we have a pretty good idea.”
“The Skarak?” Featherstone said.
“Yes, Major. The Skarak,” Colonel Lawrence replied heavily. “We expect you will encounter a Skarak ship at this location. Try and remain undetected. You are not to engage unless you are engaged. Just scan for data. We need information, anything you can discover. Good hunting, Resolute.”
The image of the colonel shrank away.
“We have a new set of coordinates,” Featherstone said. “Set course and get us up to maximum drive, then we run dark. I want to get in there without alerting any sleeping Skaraks.”
The holo-stage reset, zooming out from the asteroid below to show half the system with the Resolute’s course mapped as a curved green line leading to a location in the central asteroid belt.
As the Resolute punched up to full drive, Featherstone spared a thought for Boyd. One of his best was with the Faction, his only contact with the Union through his clandestine communications with Featherstone.
As Featherstone raced on to the unknown, he thought of Boyd, cut off and alone.
Then Featherstone focused on the task at hand—to locate an alien ship.
The journey to the belt was short. No other ship was close. As the area indicated by the tactical intelligence appeared on the holo-stage—a large, bulbous, grayed-out area of the belt that contained several minor asteroids and a vast area of empty space—Featherstone brought the Resolute’s speed down.
“Thrusters only. Use the gravity well on one of the lager asteroids to slow us down.”
Instead of racing in toward the gravity well to gather speed, the Resolute directed itself away from several larger asteroids, climbing out of the well they created, skipping from one to another, slowing by degrees. By the time the Resolute was in the center of the search area, the speed was down to search pattern velocities, having used only gravity well braking and thrusters.
If any Skarak ships were there, Featherstone hoped they weren’t alerted to the Resolute’s arrival.
“Passive scanners only. Let’s try that out first,” Featherstone said. “Give me a broad sweep and search for anomalies.”
After only a moment, the passive scanners discovered something.
“We have a data shadow on one of the asteroids in the area,” Knole reported.
Featherstone put the area up on the holo-stage. It was a dark sensor shadow, where no data was being received, but the shadow was large and did not look natural.
A silhouette on a black backdrop of space, the shadow showed a bulbous shape, like two balls squashed together. At one end of the shape were several large, long structures. They arced out from the body and came back together, crossing each other at some points. There was more than a dozen, each at least a hundred meters long, some longer, all as wide at their widest point as a Blade fighter craft. At the end opposite the rapiers, there was a single point that protruded out to a fine tip.
“It could be nothing,” Sergeant Dorik said, stepping up to the holo-stage.
“That’s them. That’s a Skarak ship,” Featherstone said, zooming in on the signal. “No power signature. It looks dead to me.”
“You want to inform fleet?” Knole asked.
“And tell them what? We’ve found a shadow? No, we gather data.”
“An active scan will show us the details, but it might alert them to our presence,” Dorik said.
“Precisely. That’s why we are going to go over there and check them out in person,” Featherstone said.
“Now why did I know you were going to say that?” Dorik said. “Do you want me to lead the team?”
Featherstone nodded. “Pick a team. I’ll make sure the Resolute is ready to send any and all information back to fleet if we are detected. Head over using suit thrusters only, and tread lightly. We don’t want to wake them if we can help it.”
10
Boyd checked the location of the Skarak ship closing in on the tail of the Odium Fist, its rapiers reaching forward, threatening to catch the Odium Fist like a fly in a carnivorous plant. He could get no more out of the Fist’s drive.
“Thresh, can you punch a hole through the middle of that debris? We only need a hundred meters for me to squeeze the Fist through.”
“Sure thing. I’ll send a blast of hail through there ahead of us. But do you think you can pilot us through that mess?”
“Leave t
hat to me.”
The gout of kinetic hail punched a hole through the vapor and debris. On the far side, scanners detected more smaller asteroids. Boyd brought the thrusters to readiness for a final last-minute micro adjustment and let the Fist fall through the hole the cannon had created.
Just as the Fist entered the expanding cloud, the remains of a once mighty and ancient asteroid, Boyd cut all power and let the Fist fall into the cloud.
“What are you doing, Boyd? Bring the drive back online! Get us out of here!” Poledri said, running over to Boyd’s console.
“No, Captain,” Boyd said, covering the controls to prevent Poledri from accessing them. “The Skarak ship has lost us in the debris. If we power up, she’ll find us again. We need to drift.”
Poledri looked at the image on the flickering holo-stage. The Skarak ship was holding position at the debris of the asteroid cloud, blasting into the cloud with its primary weapon. Blue crackling arcs leapt away from the ship, slicing seemingly at random into the dust and gas that had recently been an asteroid.
Poledri stood up and drew his hands away from the flight console.
“If we use minimal thrust and fall in toward one of the bigger asteroids, I think we can evade detection.” Boyd looked up at Poledri.
The captain nodded and walked over to the holo-stage, standing face to face with the image of the Skarak ship.
“Yes. Cut all but essential power.” Poledri climbed back into his command chair.
“There is a large asteroid coming up on our starboard side,” Thresh said. “With a bit of port thrust, we should fall into its gravity well.”
“And,” Boyd said, checking the data, “I might be able to put us down without disturbing a fragment of dust.”
“Do it,” Poledri said.
The lights on the flight deck dropped to emergency levels, a dull orange glow emanating from bands in the bulkheads and ceiling plates. Boyd’s console lights were just bright enough for him to find his way around, but he could have flown this old ship blind. He had only been a member of Poledri’s crew for a few weeks, but he had been hired on the understanding that he was the best pilot available.
A crash course on this flight configuration back at Blue Star Marine Command had brought him up to a high standard of proficiency, and a few weeks of actual practical experience here amongst the Faction had developed his skills to expert levels. He was sure there wasn’t a pilot anywhere in the Faction that could fly the Odium Fist better than he could.
The thrust pushed the Fist toward the asteroid. The ship began to fall, tugged gently toward the massive rock.
“Easy, Boyd,” Poledri said. He was leaning forward, watching Boyd’s every move.
Boyd didn’t need the Faction captain to tell him his job. And this was more than doing his job. This was more than simply displaying his piloting skills. Boyd suspected that the slightest miscalculation would give away their position and the Skarak would attack. And one hit from that Skarak weapon on their drive section would destroy the Fist in a second.
He moved toward the asteroid centimeter by centimeter, falling at a few centimeters per second.
“Slow us down, Boyd,” Poledri said. “We are going to hit.”
“If I use breaking thrust, we will disturb the surface of the asteroid. We’ll throw up tons of dust and that Skarak might spot us.”
“They will spot us for sure if we crack a hull and start venting gas and my crew out into space. Thrusters. Now.”
Boyd brought the thruster units on the lower hull online. The thrust would throw up a cloud big enough for the alien ship to spot even though it was still blasting away blindly at the dusty cloud the Fist had sailed through.
“Electrostatic,” Boyd said. He turned to Poledri. “Charge the outer hull composite.”
“That will scramble our targeting and navigation,” Poledri said.
“But it’ll attract the dust.” Boyd turned back into his seat. He made ready to activate the thrusters. “Any dust we blast off the asteroid will immediately adhere to the hull. It should keep us hidden.”
Poledri pointed at Thresh. “Do it.”
Thresh was already moving toward the engineering console, and within a few seconds and with a few swift moves of her hand across the console, she called, “Done. I don’t know how much of a charge we’ve got, but it’s all we’re going to get.”
“Let’s hope it’s enough,” Boyd said and hit the thrusters.
The holo-stage showed the altitude above the asteroid. At only a few meters, the thrust began to slow the Fist. She touched down lightly. The dust kicked up by the thrusters fell back onto the hull, and hardly a grain of the superfine asteroid surface dust escaped the static charge.
“Yes,” Boyd said as the ship reported all stop and touchdown. He stood up and turned to Poledri. “How was that one?” Boyd beamed at his success.
“Well done, Boyd,” Poledri said, begrudgingly accepting Boyd’s enthusiasm. “But as soon as we get back to a Faction base, you can scrub every particle of dust off my ship. Clear?”
Boyd nodded. “Of course, Captain.”
Boyd looked at the flickering, indistinct holo-image. The sensors were reduced to keep the Fist hidden, but the distant Skarak ship continued to blast away at the cloud. Then it stopped, and the ship moved in.
Boyd watched, the sweat on his back turning cold. The power systems held the Fist at just above freezing, blending in with the background temperature of the asteroid.
The Skarak ship began moving jerkily, disappearing from one location and appearing instantly at another, in a general sweeping motion, moving a thousand kilometers one way before turning and racing back, sweeping kilometers of the outer asteroid sphere every moment.
Then she moved in close to the Fist’s location and swept past before moving on, but not very far.
“They know we are close,” Poledri whispered. He looked at the holo-stage, leaning forward, his finger and thumb rubbing his bottom lip.
“If we hold—” Boyd said, before being interrupted.
“This is my ship, Mr. Boyd. If I say hold, we hold. If I say fight, we fight. Do you have a problem with that, Pilot?”
Boyd looked ahead, avoiding Poledri’s stare. “No, Captain.”
Poledri stepped down from his command chair. “We hold. We’ve eluded them, and they’ll give up soon.”
Boyd didn’t know if he agreed, but he hoped Poledri was right.
“Maintain watch on the Skarak. Everyone, make sure you take your rest period. Stay quiet, and try and stay warm.”
Then an alert from the communicator. The beep cut through the silence, and the flight deck crew nervously looked up as if the Skarak hunting them might hear too.
“It’s sketchy, but we have the full transmission, Captain,” Noland said.
“Main holo-stage,” Poledri said.
Boyd looked up as the flickering, fuzzy image appeared. An older man with a shaggy haircut, a beard, and a smart uniform appeared. It was not clear, but Boyd recognized the man instantly.
It was Kitzov. Boyd’s ultimate target.
“This is to all Faction ships across the Scorpio System. We have reports coming in of attacks by unknown ships. They are attacking Union and Faction ships alike. My advice to you all is to hide. Remain out of sight. We know how to hide, and I know you can do it. But I know that every Faction captain is in command of their own ships and must act as they see best. I’m no dictator, unlike the evil Union that constantly tries to crush us with their so-called law. So this is advice, not an order, but if you get into difficulty with an alien attack, do not expect support. The best thing to do is stay hidden. Stay safe. This is Kitzov. Faction. Freedom. Forever.”
The flight deck fell silent as everyone processed the message. Boyd was excited; he was so close. The first Union operative to come face to face with Kitzov and survive.
So far.
Poledri climbed down from his chair. “Okay, you heard the man. We stay hidden. Keep a watch on
that alien and the moment they move off, I want to know about it. Get some rest if you can. I’ll be in my cabin.”
Poledri left the flight deck, and the crew began to chatter. Theories about the aliens, the plan to hide, the Union. Excitedly talking about things they couldn’t possibly know, only guess at. And then, with the noise too loud for comfort, Boyd was about to silence the gabbling crew.
Then Thresh spoke up.
“Silence. We are hiding, not at some school debate club. Keep your half-baked theories to yourselves and spare my ears.”
The crew looked at Thresh. She was small, but her eyes burned with a fire that looked unquenchable. There was a reason she had been promoted to the flight deck, besides the loss of a member of the crew. She was the best engineer on board. Her voice had authority. The deck fell silent.
Boyd looked at her, a smile creeping over the side of his mouth.
“You got something to say, flyboy?”
Boyd shook his head. He stood up. “No, ma’am. I’ll take a rest period now, if you approve?” Boyd said with a smile.
Thresh ignored him.
As Boyd walked off the flight deck toward his cabin, he heard the hushed sounds of the flight deck crew again discussing the aliens and the message.
Inside his cabin, Boyd pulled the transmitter from his sleeve. He tapped into the ship’s systems and accessed communications. The message from Kitzov had been bounced around the galaxy, but Boyd knew that the Faction Leader had recently been in the outer system aboard a stolen Union frigate now named the Silence. It helped Boyd narrow the search for the signal’s origin.
But Kitzov wasn’t careless. To hide from the Union for so many years while uniting various criminal gangs, pirates, and unregistered settlements into the Faction took a great deal of cunning. But now the man was so close, and this was the first chance Boyd had to inform the Marines.
It was a risk—the Skarak might detect the signal—but Boyd’s orders were to report on Kitzov’s location without delay.
Boyd prepared the transmitter. Ready to send. Expecting any moment for Major Featherstone to appear before him as a flickering, low-bandwidth holo-image.
Federation at War (Blue Star Marines Book 1) Page 9