by G J Ogden
“New contacts…” Lieutenant Shade announced. As usual, she was quicker with her analysis than Sterling had been. “Multiple new alien warships.”
“On screen,” said Sterling, feeling his hands tighten around the sides of his console.
The viewscreen updated and the colossal form of the Sa’Nerran Titan dominated the screen. The vessel immediately set a course directly for F-COP, flanked by dozens of smaller cruisers. However, in amongst them was another vessel that Sterling recognized. It was a vessel they’d faced before, more than once. Flying in formation with the Titan was MAUL. Then the battle-scarred Heavy Destroyer changed course. It had locked directly on to the Invictus and was coming at them hard.
Chapter 26
No guts, no glory
Sterling peered down at the scanner readings, seeing alien warships closing in on the Invictus from in front and behind. Ahead was MAUL, no doubt still commanded by an irate Emissary, Clinton Crow, Sterling thought. To their rear was the Fleet Marauder Venator, commanded by an even more irate Vernon Wessel. Sterling didn’t know who wanted his head more – the enemy or the side he was supposed to be fighting for.
“The Titan is charging it aperture-based weapon,” said Lieutenant Shade. “It’s locked on to F-COP.”
Suddenly, the Hammer began to veer off-course. It was now heading directly for the Titan, as was half of the Fleet.
“What the hell…” said Sterling, trying to raise Captain Blake on a comms channel to get an explanation. He then tried to reach the officer through a neural link. However, on both occasions, his request was denied
“I’ve intercepted a Fleet-wide broadcast,” said Shade, scowling down at her console. “New orders to take down the Titan were just transmitted.”
Sterling snorted. “I guess we’re no longer on Fleet’s Christmas card list,” he said. The fact they had not also received the message was no accident. Sterling assumed that Wessel would made sure they were cut off. “Stay with the Hammer for as long as you can, Commander,” he ordered, calling over the helm control station. “Then break for the aperture and run like hell.”
“Aye, Captain,” Banks replied, adjusting course to remain inside the protective perimeter of the Hammer’s firing solution.
Sterling then felt a link forming in his mind. It was weak and unfamiliar. He checked the status of the neural comms network and saw that the signal was being relayed from the Hammer. He selected the channel and boosted it through the Invictus’ neural relays as best he could. Even so, it still required immense concentration to form the link.
“Captain Sterling, I don’t have much time…” came the voice of Captain Blake. “The Titan is preparing to destroy F-COP. If it succeeds, F-sector will fall and the fleet will be forced to withdraw to the solar system. I have to try to stop it.”
Sterling closed his eyes and focused harder on the link. It was slipping away by the second. “I understand, Captain, and thanks for getting us this far. We’ll take it the rest of the way.”
“If you find the Vanguard then don’t come back here, Captain,” Blake went on. Through the intimacy of the link Sterling could feel the man’s fear. It was like Blake knew he was about to die and was speaking his final words. It was unexpected and more than a little disquieting. “Fleet is compromised…”
“Captain, I’m reading a massive amount of neural energy being generated by the Titan,” announced Shade. “The level is off the scale…”
Lieutenant Shade’s sudden statement broke Sterling’s concentration and his grip on Blake’s mind wavered.
“Neural energy?” Sterling asked Shade, unsure whether he’d heard her correctly. “Is it trying to scramble our neural comms?”
“Unknown, sir, but the field is concentrated around the central emitters array on the front of the vessel,” Shade replied.
“Captain, you must listen…” continued the voice of Blake in his head.
Sterling peered down at his console, trying to understand the new readings from the Titan while also trying to maintain his link to Blake. It was demanding all the mental strength Sterling had left to conduct a verbal and neural conversation simultaneously.
“I’m still here, Captain,” replied Sterling through the link, fighting against the searing pain that was now cutting through his temples from ear to ear. “How has Fleet been compromised?”
“… has been turned…”
Sterling recoiled from his console, suddenly focused purely on the mind of Captain Blake. “Say again, Captain, who has been turned?” Sterling said. He waited for Blake to answer, but he could feel the link fading fast. “Captain the link cut out. Tell me who has been turned!”
The link deteriorated further and Sterling hammered his fists against his console, desperately trying to reach out to Blake again. However, it was no use. The link was too weak. Sterling cursed and stared at the neural energy data from the Titan on his console, trying to understand its meaning and purpose. Then it suddenly all made sense to him. It was like staring blankly at a Magic Eye image only for the hidden picture to suddenly appear in front of him, as clear and crisp as a spring morning.
“Mercedes, get us away from the Hammer now, maximum acceleration!” Sterling called out to Banks.
Sterling knew that his first officer would be confused by the order, but he also knew she wouldn’t question it. He was banking on this implicit trust between them to save their lives, because he knew that any hesitation, no matter how slight, could be fatal. The Invictus turned a split-second later and Sterling was forced to grip the sides of his console to compensate for their sudden, ferocious acceleration. Then as the dreadnaught slipped into the distance behind them, a massive burst of neural energy was projected from the Titan. It grew and expanded like an ice cream cone until it completely enveloped the Hammer and several ships close to it. Sterling was gripped by a searing pain inside his head, focused around his neural interface. Despite the connection being weak, he was still linked to Captain Blake on the Hammer, but now the nature of the connection had altered. It was like he was linked to an entirely different person. Blake’s fear had gone, and had been replaced with the sort of unflinching certainty that Sterling had never experienced before. No human being is ever one-hundred percent certain of their actions. There is always some doubt, always some fear. Humans are built to second-guess themselves and to be cautious. Bravery is an ability to go against human nature and the will to survive. The mind of Captain Blake was devoid of these basic human traits, and Sterling realized why. Blake had been turned. Suddenly the link between the two captains was severed, releasing Sterling from the tortuous agony that had been gripping his mind. It had been like having a strip of razor-wire wrapped around his brain.
“Captain, what’s wrong?” said Banks. She was half out of her seat, preparing to run to his aid. It was only then Sterling realized he was face down on his console.
“The Hammer has been turned,” Sterling replied, pushing himself upright again. “The Sa’Nerra have developed a way to project the neural control signal.”
“The entire ship?” Banks said.
“I can’t be sure, but I know Blake has gone,” replied Sterling. “I could feel his mind changing.”
Banks and Sterling returned their attention to the viewscreen. The Hammer had already veered away from the Titan and was turning its guns on F-COP and the rest of the fleet instead. The Invictus was rocked by an explosion and Sterling was thrown to the deck.
“The Venator is firing at us,” Shade called out. “Armor integrity down to twenty-six percent. Hull breaches on decks two and three, sections four through eleven.”
“Return fire!” Sterling called back, clawing himself back to his feet. He opened a direct channel to the Venator and put Wessel on the screen.
“Are you insane?” Sterling yelled at the Commodore. “The Hammer has just been turned. F-COP is about to be annihilated and you’re shooting at us?”
“Surrender, Captain!” Wessel roared back. “My mission is your
capture, not this battle.”
Sterling cursed and closed the channel. “Take them down, Lieutenant,” he roared. “Ram the bastard if you have to!”
The Invictus’ plasma cannons fired and the Venator was struck cleanly. Sterling saw explosive decompressions along the rival Marauder’s port side and knew the damage was serious, but he didn’t have time to assess the tactical situation. With the Hammer joining the alien Armada, F-COP was lost, which meant they were running out of time.
“I’m reading another energy build-up from the Titan,” Shade called out.
Sterling cursed. “The neural weapon again?”
“Negative, this is different,” Shade replied. “We’ve seen it before. It’s the aperture projection array.”
“Full speed to the aperture,” Sterling called over to Banks. The ship was then struck again and consoles blew out on the bridge. Sterling steadied himself against his console, ignoring the damage control readings, and turned to Shade. “Press our attack on the Venator, Lieutenant, they’re hurt.”
“That wasn’t the Venator, Captain,” Shade answered. “That was MAUL.”
Sterling checked his console and added the image of the Sa’Nerran Heavy Destroyer to the viewscreen. It somehow looked even meaner than he remembered it.
“Put the Venator between us and MAUL,” Sterling called out, acting on an idea that had just popped into his head. “With any luck, one Marauder looks like any other to Emissary Crow.”
The Invictus banked hard towards Wessel’s ship and swooped underneath the belly of the Venator. It was so close that Sterling physically ducked, as if the ship was about to take his head off. There was an intense flash of light, so bright that the viewscreen had to automatically polarize to avoid the intensity of the glow from hurting the crew’s eyes.
“The Titan is firing,” Shade called out.
Sterling focused the main section of the viewscreen onto F-COP and watched as a circular column of energy began to burrow through the center of the station. The Titan tipped up its nose, carving a furrow into the city-sized combat outpost like a blowtorch melting through ice. Moments later, F-COP detonated, enveloping a dozen nearby ships in flame along with it. Debris was spewed out in all directions, colliding with Fleet and alien ships alike.
“Fleet Admiral Rossi has ordered all ships to retreat,” Shade announced. “The message was broadcast in the clear.”
Sterling tapped his neural interface and reached out to Lieutenant Razor in engineering. He widened the connection to allow his bridge crew to monitor.
“Lieutenant, I’m going to need another one of your miracle rebound surges,” he said through the link. “We can’t allow MAUL or the Venator to know where we’re headed.”
“Aye, sir, I’m already on it, but there is a problem,” Razor replied.
“When is there ever not a problem, Lieutenant?” replied Sterling, shrugging even though Razor obviously couldn’t see him.
“Our target surge vector is already way beyond safety margins,” Razor went on. “And I’m talking my own margins, here, captain, not the conservative ones that Fleet supplies.”
The Invictus was slammed by another plasma blast and Sterling saw more sections turn amber on his damage control console.
“Cut to the chase, Lieutenant,” he said through the link. “We don’t have much time.”
“It’ll work, but the margin of error widens with each surge,” Razor replied. “We could end up a long way from where we need to be.”
“Anywhere is better than here, Lieutenant, just get it done,” Sterling hit back.
“Aye sir, I’m transmitting the program to the helm control console now,” Razor replied, and the link was severed.
“We’ll be within range of the aperture in sixty seconds,” Commander Banks called out.
The bridge was hammered again and Sterling’s console exploded, showering his face with hot sparks that burrowed into his flesh. He slammed his fist on the broken terminal and turned to Shade.
“Enough is enough. Take that bastard out!” Sterling growled. The aggression from Sterling only seemed to fuel Shade, like a boost of nitrous oxide in a street racer. The Invictus turned hard, bearing down on the Venator nose-to-nose. Let’s see who flinches first, asshole, Sterling thought as the two ships hurtled toward each other. “Hold your course and prepare to fire,” Sterling called out.
“Fifteen seconds to impact,” Commander Banks announced. “The Venator is not turning.”
“He will,” Sterling replied. “Wessel doesn’t have the balls.”
“Five seconds…” Banks called out, the stress showing in her voice. “The Venator is thrusting away.”
“Fire!” Sterling yelled.
Plasma flashed out ahead, striking the engine section of the enhanced Marauder-class vessel. The Venator cartwheeled out of control and soared overhead, missing the Invictus by barely a meter. Then Sterling saw another ship coming in behind them. It was MAUL.
“The Venator is heading straight for MAUL,” Shade said, anticipation building in her voice. “I don’t think they’ve seen it.”
“Come on, hit it,” Sterling said, urging the two ships to obliterate each other. It would literally be a case of killing two birds with one stone. Then at the last moment, MAUL ignited its thrusters and pushed itself higher. The Venator spun past and its nose raked across the belly of MAUL, like a Katana blade slashing through Samurai armor. Explosions rippled across the hull of the alien race’s top killing machine and it too spun out of control.
“MAUL is disabled,” Shade said, her hands closed into fists.
The viewscreen lit up again except this time it wasn’t a weapon firing or a ship surging in – it was the Venator detonating in a ball of orange flame. Banks whooped and hollered then hurled curses at the flaming mass of debris. Sterling kept his composure, but inside he was ready to explode with the same ferocity.
“Rebound surge program ready,” Banks reported, managing to put a lid on her emotions, at least partially. “Not that anyone is left who’d want to follow us.”
“Ship launching from the Titan, Captain,” Shade announced.
Sterling cursed and glowered at Banks. “You were saying?” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “What was the name of your dog again? Jinx wasn’t it?”
“Hey, don’t blame the dog!” Banks hit back, jabbing a finger at Sterling.
“It’s a new configuration,” Shade went on, ignoring the misplaced jostling between the ship’s two senior officers. “It’s looks like a Skirmisher, but it’s bigger. It’s also fast.”
“On screen, Lieutenant,” said Sterling.
An image of the new vessel appeared. It was slightly larger than the Invictus and significantly larger than a phase-three Skirmisher. However, the design similarities between the new alien vessel and a Skirmisher were readily apparent.
“It’s a phase-four,” said Sterling, recognizing the layout from Fleet intelligence briefings. “Fleet calls it the Raven-class. It’s fast and powerful.”
“And it coming after us,” added Commander Banks, with a cautionary tone.
“It can come at us all it likes, it’s not going to catch us,” Sterling replied. “Not this time.”
Sterling heard the helm controls chime an alert and he knew they were ready.
“Rebound surge in twenty…” Banks called out.
Sterling moved over to the first-officer’s console and checked the Fleet status report. Two hundred and eighty-two Fleet vessels had been destroyed and fifty-seven captured and turned, including the Hammer. The Sa’Nerran net losses were ninety-seven. The numbers told the story. Fleet – and humanity – was heading towards its end.
Sterling gripped the console and steeled himself for the surge, knowing it would sap every last ounce of strength that he had left. Yet no matter how weak he felt or how battered and bruised his body became, he knew he’d get up again. And he knew he’d find the Vanguard and bring it back into the fight. The war for Earth may have
been lost, but if humanity was to suffer then he’d see to it that the Sa’Nerra suffered just as greatly. Perhaps in the end that meant no-one really won. An eye for an eye, Sterling thought, remembering the comment Banks had made. Perhaps that will have to be good enough.
There was a flash of light and Sterling was consumed by nothingness. The Invictus had surged out of Fleet space, perhaps for the very last time.
Chapter 27
Same war, new fight
Sterling was standing on the balcony overlooking the cargo hold of the Invictus. Lined up in rows beneath him like the terracotta army were one hundred of Admiral Griffin’s Obsidian Soldiers. All of them were currently offline and Sterling much preferred them that way. Despite Griffin’s insistence that the thinking machines would get used to Sterling, the thought of activating the robotic warriors filled him with dread.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Sterling glanced behind to see Commander Banks standing on the balcony. She was smiling at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “You’ll need more than a penny,” replied Sterling, returning his weary eyes to the robotic army at their feet. “One hundred would probably do it.”
Jinx the beagle trotted up beside Sterling’s leg and peered up at him with wide, brown eyes. Her tail was wagging so fast it was a blur.
“Can I help you, acting Ensign?” asked Sterling.
“She just wants some attention from her Captain,” said Banks moving alongside Sterling and leaning on the railings. “She’s like her mom in that respect,” Banks added, winking at Sterling.
“I can’t be seen to show favoritism, Commander,” Sterling replied, continuing the pretense that the dog was a member of his crew.
Banks tutted at him then bent down to pet the dog. Contented, Jinx walked around in a circle a few times and curled up at Sterling’s feet.
“These were clean on this morning,” moaned Sterling, looking at the dog-hair that had already clung to the fabric around his ankle. The dog then scratched her ear with her augmented metal foot, flicking more hair onto Sterling’s boots.