by J. N. Chaney
“But Kai’s order has only been around for, what, a couple of hundred years? The Unseen go back at least a thousand times further in history than that. How could they have known that Kai’s Order would even be, well, a thing?” Leira asked.
“Presumably, in the same way they apparently knew that Dash would become the Messenger. We think of the Creators as having ceased to exist two hundred thousand years ago, but their influence continues.”
“I did meet the last living member of their race at the end of the Life War,” Dash said. “So they’ve been influencing, meddling, whatever you want to call it, all along.”
He looked back at the data, crossed his arms, and chewed his lip for a moment. “Yeah, I’m sold on this. This hexacore is a vital, missing piece of the Archetype. We may never find the original. Hell, it may not even exist anymore. But the Unseen were smart enough to have some backups, and I think this is one of them.”
“So what’s the plan, Dash?” Benzel asked.
Dash raised a finger. “Custodian, Sentinel, how long would it take to run some simulations? Make sure that, you know, the Archetype just doesn’t go poof when we plug this thing into it?”
“We would estimate one day to design the simulations and another to run them.”
Dash turned to Benzel. “To answer your question, the plan is two days of R-and-R, while the AIs do their thing. So how about we start with a round of Freya’s latest batch of plumato wine for everyone?”
Benzel grinned. “You buying?”
Dash grinned right back. “First round only. After that, you’re on your own!”
The first simulation saw the Archetype’s power distribution system melt down to slag. Changing the core geometry, adjusting the receptacle connections, and trying a multitude of other tweaks only bought the simulated Archetype a few more minutes of a titanic increase in available power. Each time it then went, as Dash had worried, poof.
Custodian’s assessment was simple. “The Archetype’s existing power distribution architecture is simply not able to handle this much energy. Thermal degradation can be delayed, but that’s all.”
Dash scowled. Had they hit a dead end?
“So what can we do about it?”
“We can do this,” Sentinel said, showing Dash the last of a series of simulations that had the Archetype quite happily turning the vast potential of the kugelblitz into usable energy.
Dash studied the schematic detailing this version of the simulated Archetype. He finally whistled.
“You want to replace the whole distribution system, and major parts of the Blur drive, and, holy crap, even key bits of the weapons all with DM2-infused components?”
“It isn’t a case of wanting to. It’s that we have to. It’s the only viable way of making use of the hexacore.”
“How long is this going to take? And do we even have enough DM2 to do it?”
“If made a fabricating priority, it would take one week to refit the Archetype. And it will require essentially all of our available stocks of DM2,” Custodian replied.
Dash stared at the schematic. The idea of taking the Archetype not just offline but also mostly disassembling it didn’t thrill him. But if the result was a far stronger, more capable mech . . .
“Okay, go ahead. I do have one question, though.”
“What’s that, Messenger?”
“If this works for the Archetype, will we be able to retrofit all of the mechs to this standard?”
“The Swift, Talon, Pulsar, and Polaris are all at least theoretically compatible, yes. Tests and simulations will confirm it. The smaller mechs, the Orions and Perseids, aren’t suited for it, however.”
“Good enough. So, what we need now is more DM2.”
“The Shroud is capable of producing it,” Sentinel said.
“Yeah, but nowhere near fast enough. That means we’re going to have to gather DM2 the old-fashioned way.”
“By killing Deepers and scavenging it from their broken corpses?”
Dash laughed. “Sounds like something I’d say, Sentinel. You and I are really starting to think alike.”
“There’s no need for insults, Dash.”
Fortunately, the Deepers decided to take the week off, allowing the Archetype’s refit to proceed unhindered. Now, Dash made himself relax in the cradle as the mech was towed by a small armada of maintenance remotes out of the docking bay and into clear space.
He took in the mech’s status. Everything was the same cheery green it had been when they’d first tried powering up the retrofitted mech. Custodian hadn’t wanted to take chances, and engage its drive anywhere near the Forge though. Hence, the stately and, Dash had to admit, slightly embarrassing spectacle of one of the most powerful war machines ever known being hauled out of its docking bay like so much cargo.
“Everything looks good here, Dash,” Viktor said. He’d slid the Slipwing onto the mech’s starboard rear quarter, acting as a safety ship for its first test flight. A salvage tug, the Heracles, followed.
Dash acknowledged. Eventually, they reached the departure point for the flight. The remotes released the mech and withdrew while the Slipwing and Heracles pulled away, giving Dash a wide berth.
“We’re ready whenever you are, Dash,” Viktor said.
Dash gave the status a last check—still all green—then replied. “Okay, I’m going to spool up the Blur drive really slowly, starting in three, two . . . and one.”
He activated the drive and applied thrust. The Archetype shot away from the Forge so fast Dash could watch it slowly shrink behind him. He couldn’t normally see the station dwindling in size until he’d done a lot more accelerating than this.
“And that’s barely cracked the throttle open,” he muttered.
He spooled the drive back to idle, and coasted for a moment.
“Okay, let’s get a little more aggressive.”
Dash kicked the drive harder. Again, the Archetype streaked ahead. He applied more and more power, and the acceleration kept climbing. At only twenty percent thrust, he was already accelerating as much as the mech ever could.
“Well, let’s see what fifty is like.”
What fifty percent thrust was like was what a missile must experience when launched. Since they didn’t carry squishy organic bits, missiles could normally accelerate far faster than crewed ships did.
Not anymore.
Dash grinned fiercely. “Okay, Sentinel, let’s see what this baby can do!”
“I do advise caution—”
Dash spooled the Blur drive up to eighty percent. Everything still showed green. Dash outright laughed, like a kid with a new toy. But Sentinel’s tone was grave.
“Dash, accelerating in a straight line is one thing. You haven’t tried maneuvering.”
“Ah, right. Okay, let’s do that.”
As soon as he did, Dash’s delight faltered and faded. At such colossal velocity, just turning took vast amounts of both time and space. If this were a space battle, he’d be doing a single attack run once every ten minutes—maybe.
“Now try firing a missile,” Sentinel suggested.
Dash did, making sure it wasn’t armed. It streaked away from the Archetype, then slowed, then stopped. And then the Archetype began overtaking it, eventually passing and leaving it behind.
“Shit, we can outrun our missiles?”
“The Archetype can now accelerate much faster than a standard missile can, yes.”
“Okay, point taken. Let’s try slowing things down.”
He did, which helped. But the Archetype’s drive had become so powerful that even small changes in thrust produced huge accelerations. What had once been the mech’s entire performance envelope now occupied a small bit at the very bottom of its new capabilities.
He set a course back to the Forge. “Well, that was fun. Now we just have to figure out how to turn fun into useful.”
Bedlam filled the Command Center as everyone tried talking at once.
“What’s the point o
f so much speed when you can’t fight properly?”
“Maybe we can put on some sort of limiter.”
“Then what’s the point of upgrading?”
“Is this even necessary?”
“Are we just wasting time and resources?’
“Imagine all the mechs being capable of that…”
Dash let the animated chatter carry on for a moment, then stuck his forefingers in his mouth and uttered a piercing whistle. Everyone went silent.
“Yes, all this performance is pointless if I can’t control it. But I have a solution,” Dash said.
“What’s that, boss?” Benzel asked. Wei-Ping, standing beside him, looked suspicious. She’d been one of the more vocal doubters but, to her credit, was at least willing to listen.
“I need to relearn how to fight at higher speeds. That means none of you can be around me.” Dash pointed to the big screen where the entire, contested region of the galactic arm was depicted. Threats, friends, and everything in-between glowed in a rainbow array of icons.
“Custodian, zoom in on that icon right…there.”
The image swelled, centered on a single, red icon, a Deeper cruiser. It was one of several nibbling around the edges of Realm territory, a picket ship, maybe, to give early warning about any incoming attack.
“Right there. I’m gonna pick a fight with that bastard while you all watch. At a safe distance, of course.”
“You mean safe enough so we can come save your Messenger ass?” Wei-Ping asked, a sardonic half-smile on her lips.
Dash returned a smile that could crack ice. “Nope. Close enough so you can see that Deeper ship die—and how fast I make it happen.”
9
“It is a Deeper heavy cruiser of standard design,” Sentinel said, as Dash eyed the enhanced imagery. He kept the Archetype at a distance, wanting the Deepers to see him and then see how they reacted. So far, the enemy ship had illuminated the mech with fire-control scanners, but that was all. It otherwise stayed in a wide, slow orbit around a nearby blue giant star.
“Any sign of that scary new beam weapon of theirs?” he asked. That was one concern he did have. They still knew nothing about the new weapon or its capabilities. Dash itched to fight, but he didn’t want to lose the Archetype just because he’d gotten dumb and cocky.
“None. Of course, the weapons could be retracted into their hull in some way,” Sentinel replied.
“Hmm. Good point. Okay, keep a close watch over them. If anything starts poking out of their hull that wasn’t there before, let me know.”
“Will do.”
Dash applied thrust. They’d recalibrated the mech’s controls to its new performance envelope, so its only acceleration settings weren’t nothing, and holy shit. The Archetype still accelerated hard, though. To the Deepers, who probably had their own portfolio of performance stats on the mech compiled from facing it, it must look as though Dash had decided to come at them as hard he could.
“The Deepers are launching missiles and torps,” Sentinel intoned.
Dash grunted, watching as the projectiles came streaking toward him. He could imagine the sweaty brows and tense mutters aboard the Stalwart, leading the task force supporting him from nearly a light-year away.
Just before the first of the missiles hit, Dash kicked the drive up to twenty percent. The Archetype shot forward like a slug from a rail gun, racing out of the Deeper missiles’ possible maneuver envelopes in an instant.
“Yes!”
He decelerated again, a little awkwardly, as he tried to rein the mech back in for an attack run. When he was lined up, he spurred the Blur drive again.
Then yelped, as the Deeper cruiser was just suddenly there, seeming to fill his field of view. He veered hard and shot past the Deeper ship without managing to even fire a shot.
Wei-Ping’s voice came on the comm, tinged with laughter. “That the plan, Dash? Just wow the Deepers into submission with your incredible performance?”
Dash decelerated, hard. “Hey, Leira can vouch for my performance.”
“I can. It’s fine,” she replied from aboard the Swift, which was embedded with the task force.
“Fine? What does fine mean—?”
“Later, sweetie. You’ve got a battle to win, remember?”
“Oh yeah, right.”
Dash wheeled the Archetype around. He vectored the Blur drive and used the thrusters in concert, making the turn as hard as he could. It still took him hundreds of thousands of klicks to do a one-eighty.
The Deeper cruiser, apparently deciding it was outmatched, suddenly made a run for the closest possible translation point. Ordinarily, Dash would have had no choice but to let it go. Even the Archetype wouldn’t have been able to catch it.
Ordinarily.
Dash slammed the drive up to seventy percent, and now rail gun slug fell short of describing the acceleration. For an instant, Dash wondered how the inertial dampers were handling all of this. If they failed, he’d instantly be reduced to red mist, faster than his nervous system could even feel it. But, like the mech’s other key systems, the dampers had been upgraded as well and hummed happily green.
This time, he cut the drive, then tried to decelerate to line up an attack. He was still going too fast, though, managing only a single dark-lance shot. The weapon, like the drive, had been dramatically increased in power and destructive potential, but only if the beam hit something. It didn’t. Then Dash once more zipped past the Deeper cruiser. Embarrassingly, it managed to land an x-ray laser on him, the burst flaring against the Archetype’s shield.
Wei-Ping laughed. “Awkward.”
“Lucky shot,” Dash grouched back.
He lined up another attack run but hesitated with the drive. If he wanted to catch the Deeper cruiser before it just translated away, he needed to accelerate hard. But that would give him one fantastically high-speed pass. He’d have to make it count.
“Here we go.”
Dash slammed the drive to the proverbial firewall. The mech left rail gun projectile far, far in its wake. In only moments, the mech had accelerated to such an appreciable fraction of light-speed that relativistic effects began to take hold. The stars ahead of Dash started shifting toward blue, the ones behind fading red-ward. A tiny but measurable time dilation took hold. Dash snapped out a curse and cut the drive, then flung into a hard deceleration. Sentinel had recalibrated the mech’s fire control system, though, so his single dark-lance shot landed, punching clean through the Deeper ship, then blasting out most of its starboard side.
Wreckage spun toward him.
“Shit!”
Dash flung the mech as hard aside as he could. He missed the nearest piece of debris, a massive chunk of the Deepers’ hull, by meters.
Dash hadn’t even realized that he’d jammed his eyes closed until he opened them again. His heart thundered in his chest, shoving blood through his ears in a relentless, pounding whine.
“Are we still in one piece?”
“You’re able to ask the question,” Sentinel replied.
“That’s a good sign, yeah.” His heart kept rushing, though, and he had to just take a moment to let it slow.
“Sentinel?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s not do that again. And if I try to, just give me a kick in the ass.”
“That, Dash, is a promise.”
Dash dismounted from the Archetype to an unusual sight. Viktor and Jexin stood with a group of N’Teel, watching as the mech landed.
He walked toward them but spared a glance back at the mech. Sentinel had used the performance and other data from their fight against the Deeper cruiser to further recalibrate the mech’s systems. She assured him that, in its next foray out, the Archetype should be much easier to handle. He hoped so. The raw potential offered by the new hexacore and DM2-upgraded systems made Dash almost giddy. If he could harness it and get back to the point where the mech was just an extension of himself and not something he specifically had to control, he felt he�
��d almost be unbeatable.
The trick was hanging onto that almost. It was too easy to fall in love with the tech and forget that the bad guys were trying just as hard to innovate. The new Deeper beam weapon was proof of that, and something Dash was determined not to forget.
“Dash, I’d like to introduce Steenowat. She’s commanding the N’Teel detachment her people have sent to us.”
Dash greeted Steenowat warmly. She came up to his shoulder and, for whatever reason, seemed more bat-like, than squirrel-like. He assumed it had something to do with N’Teel, genetics, but it didn’t seem to otherwise affect them.
“I saw your ship parked outside,” Dash said. “Looks like a fine ship.”
“The Tuvanit? Yes, we’re very proud of her. She is our first translation-capable warship, built with much-appreciated assistance from your engineers.”
Dash nodded. They were in the midst of doing some technology transfer to the N’Teel, helping them to build warships able to translate. Custodian estimated that it advanced N’Teel efforts at space-flight by at least two decades. And the N’Teel were grateful for this.
But, again, Dash couldn’t help sensing a sharp, even slightly ominous edge to their gratitude. The N’Teel had again struck him as a race that had territorial ambitions and was quite pleased to start getting the means to expand outside of their home system and start realizing them. Every destructive, xenophobic enemy they’d encountered along the way—Clan Shirna, the Verity, the Bright, the Golden, the Deepers—had gotten their start somewhere. And Dash didn’t want future historical archives to recognize this as the moment the aggressive, expansionistic N’Teel assholes making everyone’s lives miserable had gotten their start. So Custodian had quietly inserted a kill switch into all of the tech they were providing to the N’Teel, a fact known only to him and Leira.
Today, though, the N’Teel were motivated, inquisitive, and valuable allies, and Dash was determined to treat them as such. Moreover, of all the various people and races they’d brought aboard the Forge, they were probably the least impressed. Not in a negative way—they just didn’t seem as awed and overwhelmed by the sudden tsunami of Unseen tech as they were fascinated by it and constantly wanting to know more. Ragsdale and Custodian had again worked out how much access they should have and what limits should be clamped on what information they were given. This particular group of N’Teel, the eighty-eight led by Steenowat, were here for a specific purpose, anyway. Not content to wait for the slow build-up of larger ships, like the Tuvanit, they’d decided to focus their efforts into getting N’Teel fighter pilots kitted out with Realm ships.