Dark Space Universe (Books 1-3): The Third Dark Space Trilogy (Dark Space Trilogies)

by Jasper T. Scott

  Faro shielding and weapons technology was leagues ahead of what humanity had developed, but Etherian tech was far better still.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Addy said. “We’re just one ship against hundreds. If we can’t find a way to control the rest of the fleet from here, we’re still going to lose.”

  “I think I’ve got it,” Garek said.

  Just as he said that, green lasers and blue missiles snapped out from the rest of their fleet. Green lasers and streaking blue missiles filled the void, drawing bright, flowering orange explosions wherever they converged.

  Unable to make any sense of the battle from such a limited perspective, Lucien looked back to his displays and paged through them until he found something called the tactical map. He selected it, and a two-dimensional grid appeared, sprawled out in front of him like a chess board. Three-dimensional red and green-shaded miniatures hovered above and below the grid, with straight lines connecting them to it and providing a sense of depth.

  Lucien found he could rotate the entire display by moving his hands around it as if he were grasping an invisible ball and turning it in his hands. Simulated laser beams and the tiny glowing balls of missiles flashed between the friendly and enemy ships, causing their miniature 3D icons to flicker as they took fire.

  Bright blue circles around the ships denoted their shield strength, along with a percent value. Most of those blue circles were still bright and showing percentages in the high nineties, but a few of the enemy ships were surrounded by much dimmer blue circles, with shield values already dropping into the forties and thirties.

  A contacts summary to one side of the display gave the numbers of vessels in the two fleets—the lost fleet, labeled Gideon’s Army, still showed all one thousand and fifty-seven ships they’d started with, while the enemy fleet, labeled the 5016th Faro Fleet, numbered six hundred and ten—

  Six hundred and nine, Lucien corrected, as one of the enemy capital ships cracked apart in a fiery burst of jagged debris.

  Sub-groupings within each fleet detailed the number of fighters, shuttles, and other smaller craft. The Faros had deployed thousands of fighters and hundreds of shuttles and other support ships, but the lost fleet showed no such sub-groupings.

  Lucien touched each of the enemy sub-groups, highlighting and enlarging them on the display. Swarms of previously invisible red specks appeared. Like a wave of locusts, they swarmed through the lost Etherian fleet. Those fighters opened fire, and suddenly the entire Etherian fleet was flickering on the grid, with shield values slowly dropping.

  The Faro fighters quickly broke up into smaller groups, focusing fire on just a handful of ships for greater effect. Then the enemy capital ships began focusing fire on those vessels, too, and their shields began dropping faster. The targeted vessels automatically redirected their fire to the fighters swarming them, revealing that Garek must have found some kind of auto-targeting option to accompany the auto-fire mode.

  Enemy fighters exploded by the dozens, but there were too many of them, and the ships they’d targeted were losing their shields too fast. One of them was down to just fifty-two percent.

  Lucien ground his teeth. “If they can drop the shields on just one of our ships, they’ll board it with shuttles and use the nav systems to find Etheria. We can’t let that happen.”

  “We could target those ships and destroy them before they’re boarded,” Addy suggested.

  “And waste our firepower by redirecting it on ourselves?” Garek demanded. “Forget Etheria! We’ve got our own problems! Let’s just focus on getting out of here in one piece.”

  Lucien scowled, watching enemy fighters swarm them in coordinated attack runs—first one way, and then back the other, like schooling fish. He glanced back at the contacts summary. The number of capital ships in the 5016th Faro Fleet was down to five hundred and ninety two... ninety-one... eighty-nine, while the Etherian Fleet still numbered one thousand and fifty-seven. Below that, a new group had appeared, labeled Astralis. A sub-grouping below it showed more than two thousand friendly fighters and over a hundred star galleons—what was left of their garrison. When Lucien selected those sub-groups, he found those ships were all surrounding Astralis in a defensive formation, but that garrison was wasted on them. The Faros weren’t after Astralis.

  “Addy, get Astralis on the comms. Tell them to fly into our midst so we can pool our defenses.”

  “On it,” Addy said.

  “Good idea,” Garek replied. “Meanwhile, see if you can find some way to order our ships around so we can move the ones with the weakest shields into cover positions behind the others. They’re not responding to orders from the gunnery station, but they might answer to the helm.”

  “Addy, forget the comms,” Lucien said. “I’ll contact Astralis. You just focus on moving those ships!”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Addy replied.

  Lucien frowned at the slightly sarcastic tone in her voice, but he decided not to make an issue out of it. The chain of command had broken down between the four of them months ago. As the former XO of the star galleon that they’d served on together, Lucien was the ranking officer among them, but they seemed to have forgotten that fact. Time to remind them.

  “Garek, you focus on optimizing our firepower. Primary targets are any shuttles about to board one of our ships, followed by fighters, and then enemy capital ships.”

  “Forget the shuttles. They can’t hurt us,” Garek said.

  “Yeah? What happens after they board our ships and start turning our own guns against us?”

  “They won’t do that,” Garek replied. “They want to use the lost fleet to find Etheria. Using captured ships to fire on us would only give us a reason to fire back and destroy them before they can find the nav data they’re looking for.”

  “It’s not going to take them long to find that data,” Lucien countered. “And as soon as they do that, their goals will change.”

  “I’ll keep the target priorities in mind,” Garek replied.

  Lucien narrowed his eyes at the back of Garek’s bald head, but there wasn’t time for a lecture about insubordination.

  “What am I to do?” Brak asked.

  Good question, Lucien thought. Brak was seated at the ship’s engineering station. If the capabilities of the other control stations were anything to go by, he should be able to control the engineering functions of the rest of the fleet from his station. “See if you can manage the power distribution aboard our other ships. Find the ones with failing shields and boost the power to their shields as much as you can,” Lucien said.

  “Let me see...” Brak replied. “Yes, I can do this.”

  “Good.”

  “And what are you going to do?” Garek asked.

  “I’m going to focus on our overall battle strategy and coordinate our defense with Astralis.”

  “You mean ordering us around,” Garek said.

  “You have a problem with that?” Lucien demanded.

  Garek turned from the gunnery control station. “I have more command experience than you do. With all of our lives hanging in the balance, I say we vote on it.”

  “This isn’t a democracy. We all still have our ranks. I’m a commander and you’re a lieutenant.”

  “I outranked you back in the Etherian Empire,” Garek pointed out. “I was a crusader, the equivalent of a captain in the Paragons.”

  “Until you let personal feelings get in the way of your orders. You slaughtered thousands of aliens just because they hurt your daughter. You’d probably sacrifice this entire fleet if it meant you could save her and Astralis now. A good leader doesn’t allow personal bias to guide their actions, but you did and you’ll do it again.”

  Addy turned from her station, her green eyes flicking from Lucien to Garek and back again. “Are you two done with your pissing contest?”

  Garek glared at her. “He’s not fit to command this fleet. He’d gladly throw all of our lives away if it meant keeping Etheria safe. Go ahe
ad, ask him!”

  “Lucien?” Addy’s gaze bored into him.

  Lucien hesitated before giving a reply. “There are three hundred million people on Astralis and—”

  “Probably more by now,” Garek interrupted.

  “Regardless, that’s nothing compared to the trillions of people in Etheria and on New Earth.”

  “So whose lives matter more?” Addy challenged. “Theirs or ours?”

  Lucien shook his head. “Life is life, and it’s all equally valuable, but the greater loss of life will be in Etheria—and on New Earth—if the Faros can somehow use this fleet to find the way there. We have to stop them, no matter what the cost.”

  Silence rang on the bridge. Lucien could tell what they were thinking—Garek was thinking about his daughter; Addy was thinking about her own life; and Brak...

  He was a wild card, but since he always seemed to put his people first, and all of them were living on New Earth, it was safe to say that he probably agreed with Lucien’s goal of keeping them safe from the Faros.

  “We’re wasting time!” Lucien growled. “Eyes on your stations! If we all do our jobs, then maybe no one will have to die.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, both Garek and Addy turned back to their stations. Lucien watched them carefully, eyeing the backs of their heads, and thinking: all of them were wearing Paragon-issue exosuits with integrated weapons. If it came to a mutiny, there’d be a firefight, but who would side with whom?

  Addy should have been on his side, but their relationship had been in an awkward place ever since he’d rejected her suggestion that they run away together and explore the universe, leaving someone else to worry about waging war with the Faros.

  Lucien shook his head to clear it, and directed his attention back to his displays. He found the comms panel and contacted Astralis.

  “This is Commander Ortane of the Etherian vessel, Gideon. I need to speak with Astralis actual.”

  Chapter 2

  Astralis

  “Astralis actual speaking. Go ahead, Gideon,” Admiral Wheeler—formerly Commander Wheeler—answered.

  “That’s Lucien you’re speaking with,” Acting Councilor Tyra Ortane said.

  Wheeler glanced at the other woman, the one responsible for her promotion.

  Commander Lucien Ortane’s voice came back to them over the comms. “We need you to move Astralis into the middle of our formation. The Faros aren’t after you, but we could use the help of your garrison to keep our own ships safe. We don’t have any fighters, and yours could go a long way to covering that weakness.”

  Wheeler frowned. “They’re not after us yet, you mean. We just finished rooting out all of the undercover Faro agents from the last time they managed to board us, and we’re not in a hurry to go through that again, Commander.”

  “We’ll stand a better chance against them if we pool our defenses,” Lucien insisted.

  “Agreed, but we need to establish a chain of command. From here on out, Astralis gives the orders. Are we clear on that, Commander?”

  There was a brief pause on the other end of the comms. “I think I can agree to that—for now.”

  “What do you mean for now?” Wheeler demanded.

  “The situation is complicated. This fleet is ours by right of salvage and we have an urgent mission to return it to Etheria.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because the Faros have been trying to find this fleet for more than ten thousand years. If they get access to just one of our vessels, they’ll find the way to Etheria, and then they’ll send an invasion fleet to conquer them. If Etheria falls, New Earth will be next, and Astralis won’t be able to run forever.”

  “Assuming that’s all true, and that the enemy’s goal really is to commandeer your vessels, protecting Etheria is still a secondary objective. And if your fleet is any indication of the Etherians’ defensive capabilities, they may not us to protect them. Rest assured, we’ll weigh all of the competing interests when deciding how to use the fleet you’ve found after we win this battle.”

  “Sorry. My fleet, my decision.”

  “You’re a commissioned officer of Astralis!” Wheeler boomed. “I don’t care what you salvaged. You owe us your service, and that includes giving us any and all resources you have at your disposal.”

  “The law doesn’t agree with you, ma’am. Personal property is personal property, whether it’s a fleet or the shirt on my back. Regardless, we can discuss this later. I will agree to submit the fleet to your authority until the immediate danger has passed.”

  “Fine, but we will discuss this again later, Commander,” Wheeler intoned. “Astralis Actual out.” She killed the comms from her end and blew out a frustrated breath.

  “He’s right,” Chief Councilor Tyra Ortane whispered. “The law will award the fleet to him and his crew mates.”

  Wheeler shot her a scowl. “Then why’s he wasting his breath by telling me that?”

  “Because we could seize the fleet by fiat.”

  “Then maybe that’s exactly what we should do.”

  “We need to win this fight first.”

  “Yes,” Wheeler agreed. Turning to address the officers on the bridge, she said, “Helm! Take us as deep into that formation of Etherian ships as you can. As soon as we reach their formation, have our fighters peel off and engage enemy fighters.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” the officer at the helm replied.

  With that, Wheeler stalked back to the holo table in the center of the bridge to watch the battle unfold. She was peripherally aware of Chief Councilor Ortane following her there. As they arrived at the table, Colonel Elon Drask, Wheeler’s newly-appointed XO looked up and saluted. “Admiral,” he said.

  “At ease. What’s it look like out there, Colonel?”

  “Those Etherian ships pack a punch, ma’am, and they have yet to lose a single vessel, while the enemy is down by over a hundred already. They were outnumbered to begin with, so we’re definitely winning.”

  Wheeler’s eyebrows shot up, but promptly dropped back down as her brow furrowed in thought. “So, the Etherians have been holding out on us....”

  “Ma’am?” Colonel Drask replied.

  “All this time they’ve had tech that’s leagues ahead of anyone else’s, yet they’ve never used it to fight the Faros. Why?”

  Colonel Drask shrugged and scratched a dark shadow of stubble on one cheek. The other was clean-shaven. He’d been caught in the middle of shaving when the Faros had arrived. Wheeler had been in the ward room, about to grab a much-needed cup of caf, but she’d never had the chance.

  “Maybe they don’t have the numbers to win a war,” Drask suggested. “Or they have nothing to gain by starting one. Their superior technology might have served as a deterrent. That would explain why the Faros have never dared to cross the Red Line before.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t explain why they supposedly want this lost fleet to find the way to Etheria. They’ll have to cross the Red Line to get there.”

  “Assuming Etheria is inside the Red Line,” Drask pointed out.

  “We’ve all been there, Colonel. If Etherian ships had to risk engaging the Faros every time they shuttled visitors to and from Etheria, then I think we’d have heard about it—or witnessed those attacks by now. Besides, my understanding is that the Red Line was negotiated as part of a territorial treaty with the Faros. If the Etherians make a habit of crossing that line, then the treaty wouldn’t have lasted as long as it has. No, Etheria must be somewhere inside of the Red Line.”

  “That still covers a lot of space,” Chief Councilor Ortane put in. “There’s over a hundred thousand galaxies inside the Red Line. The Paragons have barely begun exploring them.”

  Wheeler nodded. “Yes, it is a lot of space to cover, but not an infinite amount. If the Farosien Empire is really as vast as it claims to be, spanning the entire universe beyond the Red Line, then it should be a simple matter for them to dispatch a hundred thousand ships—one for each galaxy ins
ide the Red Line—so that they can find Etheria for themselves. So why haven’t they? Why spend ten thousand years looking for this lost Etherian fleet instead?”

  “Maybe they want the element of surprise,” Drask said. “A comprehensive search of a hundred thousand galaxies would break the treaty and give away their intentions, and maybe they needed all the time they spent searching to prepare for a war with Etheria.”

  “Perhaps...” Wheeler replied. “But my gut is telling me that we’re missing something important.”

  “Like what?” Chief Councilor Ortane asked.

  Wheeler shook her head. “I suspect we’ll need a look at the nav data aboard those Etherian ships to be able to answer that. For now, all we can do is guess.” She directed her attention to the battle unfolding on the holo table in front of her.

  “Are we still winning?” the chief councilor asked.

  Wheeler looked to her, noting the tightness around Tyra’s blue eyes and the ashen tone of her porcelain skin. She was still wearing a hospital gown—covered by a doctor’s smock that she must have borrowed or stolen on her way out of the hospital where she’d just finished integrating her consciousness with that of her clone, Captain Forster of the Inquisitor.

  “Winning?” Wheeler echoed. “That depends whether the enemy has reinforcements on the way. My bet is that they do. The question is, will they arrive in time to stop us from jumping away?”

  The chief councilor nodded slowly. Her eyes grew wide and glazed over as she stared into the mesmerizing swirl of battle on the holo table.

  She looked afraid. Wheeler couldn’t blame her. They’d barely survived their last encounter with the Faros, and then only because Admiral Stavos had jumped them through the enemy’s jamming field, risking a stunning fifty percent chance of scattering. Even after surviving that, the enemy had still managed to board them and blow a hole in the artificial sky over Fallside, destroying one of the four picturesque cities on Astralis’s surface level.