by M. R. Forbes
"What's that supposed to mean?" Germaine asked. "There's nothing but open space for hundred of, oh, shit!"
Collision warning systems began shrilling as a massive slab of metal appeared in front of the Avalon, falling from hyperspace like a wall. Germaine's hands moved to the controls, firing vectoring thrusters in an effort to get the ship up and over the sudden barrier before forward momentum brought them into it.
"What the frig?" Germaine said. "That isn't supposed to happen."
Mitchell threw himself back into the co-pilot seat, watching the new ship moving closer in their view. It was in hyperdeath, unable to maneuver to help them avoid it. Germaine was right. This wasn't supposed to happen. Hyperspace controllers were designed to push a ship just a little further if it detected anything in the drop path. It was a necessity to prevent disaster, especially in areas where fleets were gathering.
Who was the newcomer, anyway? It wasn't Goliath, that much was obvious by the battered state of the hull that was rapidly sliding towards them. It was too big to be one of Tio's ships, unless Tio had an Alliance battleship that he hadn't told them about.
"Are we going to make it?" Mitchell asked.
"I'm at full stop and reverse on the forward vector and full belly thrust to get us over it," Germaine said. The collision indicators were still complaining. "We'll know in a few seconds."
They watched the ship getting bigger and bigger ahead of them. Mitchell glanced at the sensor display, noting that a number of other ships had arrived with this one. They were all identifying as Alliance military.
"We'll make it," Mitchell said, eyeballing the closing gap. They were nearly over the side of the ship, its bridge off to their right a ways distant. Mitchell recognized the ship then. A latest generation Alliance battleship.
But...
It couldn't be.
The Avalon cleared the ship, proximity sensors continuing to go off as they crossed over the top of it, shields sparking as they came into contact with the battleship's shields.
Then they were over, coming to a stop ten kilometers above the newly arrived ship.
Their comm sounded a general hail.
"This is Admiral Steven Williams of the Alliance Navy battleship Carver," the voice said over it.
Mitchell leaned back in his seat, letting his breath escape, feeling the pounding of his heart against his chest.
"Did you come to help me, or kill me, Steve?" he said. "You just nearly splattered me on the side of that bucket of yours."
"Mitch, is that you? Geez, Mitch. The collision control system must be damaged. What the hell is going on out here?"
56
Mitchell stood at the Avalon's smaller docking hatch. Teal and Cormac stood behind him, waiting while the personnel on the other end of the hatch completed the pressurization process.
A slight shiver and a hiss signaled the attachment, and the hatches of both ships slid open, finding Mitchell face to face with his brother for the first time in... He tried to remember. Five years?
It didn't matter how long it had been. He had long admired his brother, and he didn't think he had ever been happier to see him.
"Mitch," Steven started to say, stiff and formal as always.
Mitchell stepped forward, putting his arms around him. "It's been way too long," he said into Steven's ear before backing away. "You got my message?"
"Obviously," Steven said. "Mitch, I repeat, what the hell is going on here?"
"Exactly what I said. I want to introduce you to a couple of members of my crew. This is Teal and Private Cormac Shen. Men, this is my brother, Admiral Steven Williams."
Cormac pushed past Mitchell to bow to Steven. "At your service, Admiral."
Steven's face paled at the sight of the Rigger. "Mitch, you and your men don't look very good."
"Or smell very good," Mitchell said. He looked past Steven. A serious man in a Federation uniform was standing behind him, along with another man he already knew. "John," he said, nodding to the man.
"Mitch," John replied, returning the gesture.
"Mitch, I want to introduce you to Admiral Calvin Hohn, of the Federation battleship Samurai."
Admiral Hohn stepped forward, locking eyes with Mitchell. They stared one another down for a moment, and then Hohn bowed. Mitchell did the same.
"No offense intended, Admirals," Mitchell said. "Your ships look as bad as my personnel."
Steven smiled at that. "You have no idea what kind of storm you kicked up out there, Mitch. I'm pretty much guaranteed to be executed the moment I go anywhere near Alliance space, so this had better be as crazy as you sounded."
"Trust me, it is. Let me get myself and my injured to your medi-bot, and I'll be happy to tell you all about it."
"Can you tell us anything up front, Captain?" Hohn asked calmly.
"Don't let the sweat stained grays fool you, Calvin. It's Colonel now. And yes, I can tell you one thing: you just got yourself involved in a war effort against an advanced intelligence from the future who moved through an eternity to destroy us and discover who made them. The good news is that we seem to be making some progress in gathering an opposition force to fight them. The bad news is that you are now part of that force. Ignorance is bliss, Admiral. This war is a nightmare beyond anything you've imagined."
Mitchell left the Federation Admiral with his mouth hanging open, returning his attention to Steven. "We need a medi-bot."
"I can get you into the bot, Mitch. I don't have any spare beds in the infirmary. We have over a hundred wounded ourselves."
"The Tetron?" Mitchell asked.
"If you mean this enemy that enslaves us through our implants, yes, in part. They've infiltrated Command, haven't they?"
"We believe so. General Cornelius for sure. I've already watched him die twice."
Steven's face paled. "We got our orders from Cornelius. He wanted me to turn you in."
"I'd look surprised if I was," Mitchell said. "This is only a part of what we've been dealing with. Like I said, let us get cleaned up a bit, and we can go over it."
"John, can you take Mitch and his people down to Medical?"
"Of course, sir."
"Bring him up to my quarters once he's had a chance to get patched and cleaned up. I want to know everything."
"Yes, sir."
"It's good to see you again, Steve," Mitchell said. "I'm sorry the circumstances are shit."
"Yeah well, if it's going to be that way, I'd rather have my little brother looking out for my ass. We'll talk soon."
John stepped around them. "Mitch. Follow me."
Mitchell fell in next to Captain Rock, leaving the two Admirals to head back towards the bridge. Cormac and Teal followed behind them, staying quiet and alert.
"How have you been?" Mitchell asked.
John smiled. "Oh, you know how it is. Get assigned to go deep into enemy territory to blow up a farming colony, get attacked by a dozen Federation battleships, escape only to jump into deeper Federation space and be attacked again before escaping to who knows where and being told we stepped into the middle of a nightmare. The usual."
"It's good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," Mitchell said.
"Frig that, Mitch. We heard you were uncovered as a fraud and were dead in a barn. Then we heard that you were working for the Federation. Then it turns out that the truth is worse than both. I blame you for this."
"Fair enough. How's Steven doing?"
"You just saw him."
"Yeah. How is he really doing?"
"He's handling it, just like I am. It looks like you're in the same spot."
"Pretty much."
"How bad is it really?" John asked.
"Whatever the worst case you can think of is, it's worse than that."
"Don't hold back on me, Mitch."
"I wish I were joking, John. I really do. Every ship we can get helps, and having Steven here will be a massive upgrade. When I sent that message, I never expected him to actually show up. I
never really expected you would hear it at all. It was a hope and a prayer."
"Well then, alleluia," John said, smiling.
"Alleluia," Mitch said.
"Frigging alleluia," Cormac said behind them.
57
Four hours later, Mitchell was sitting in Steven's quarters with his brother and Admiral Hohn, drinking tea and staring out the room's viewport.
Where the hell was Goliath? Where was Millie?
They should have arrived by now. Even with a delay. Two dozen more of the Knife's fleet had shown up, and he guessed someone on their side was organizing them. They were arranging into a standard box formation, with the Avalon at the center.
Physically, he felt a lot better, having visited the Carvers medi-bot and treated to a sonic shower. His stained grays had been replaced with fresh Alliance Navy uniform, and they had even managed to get a Captain patch pressed onto it, along with his last name. They couldn't do any Colonels without Marine or Army stores on board. Getting his name had been easy.
"So, I got off of Hell and came here," he said, finishing his story. "I was expecting the Goliath to be waiting."
"An unbelievable tale," Admiral Hohn said.
Mitchell shrugged. "It is what it is."
"We ran into the Tetron about thirty seconds after I figured out your message," Steven said. "Talk about cutting it close."
"It had to be that way," Mitchell said. "The signal piggybacked their systems. The only way you would ever hear it was if they were close. I still can't believe you received it. More importantly, did you warn the Alliance?"
"No. Sorry, Mitch. There was no time. I had to bring my fleet deeper into Federation space in order to get them away from the enemy."
"We tried to convince the commander of the space defenses of our need," Admiral Hohn said.
"He didn't believe us," Steven said.
"So you believe what I'm saying?" Mitchell asked Calvin.
"I wouldn't, if I hadn't been subverted by the Tetron."
"You were under their control?"
"For a minute or so, yes. I tried to kill your brother."
Mitchell turned and moved to a chair opposite the Admiral to sit. "What was it like?"
Hohn shook his head. "I don't remember any of it. I only know it happened because I saw the security stream."
"Interesting. Some of the people we've killed that were under Tetron control, I swear I could see the fear behind their eyes. I'm sure they knew what was happening, and there was nothing they could do about it. You were lucky."
"No offense, Colonel, but I wouldn't call being here with an Alliance fleet and a growing militia lucky."
"No? You would rather be back with the Federation, under Tetron control?"
"Don't misunderstand me. I would rather be warning my people."
"You said that didn't go so well."
"It wasn't the warning that was the problem. It was the planet."
"It doesn't matter now," Mitchell said. "You're on the wrong side of the wave. You can't get to the inner galaxy ahead of the Tetron. Even if they're moving at human speed to trail our fleets, we can't catch up."
"We have to try," Calvin said, losing some of his composure. Mitchell was happy to see the man had some measure of emotions. "We can't just sit here while the enemy is killing our people."
"It wasn't our intention to sit here. Like I said, the Goliath is late."
Admiral Hohn straightened himself and took a sip of his tea, regaining his air of control. "Are you certain your ship is coming at all?"
He had tried not to consider the possibility that things had gone sour on Asimov. He couldn't accept that the Tetron may have invaded sooner than they had thought and that the Goliath might have been destroyed. Origin would have jumped away before that could happen.
Wouldn't he?
"She'll come," Mitchell said.
"Mitch," Steven tried to say.
"No. She'll come. You heard everything I told you? This isn't how we lose the war. Not yet." He was sure of it.
"How long do we wait, Admiral?" Calvin asked.
Mitchell looked at his brother. Now that Steven was there, he was technically in charge of the entire operation.
"I think the question is, what do we do if the Goliath never arrives?"
"So what do we do, Steve?" Mitchell asked.
"From what you say, without the Goliath it's unlikely that we can defeat one head-to-head. Our only chance then would be our much greater numbers. Except we can't get ahead of the enemy to tell the rest of our people that they're coming, and to shut down or reprogram their neural implants." He paused, thinking. "I don't know. I just don't know."
"There is no solution," Mitchell said.
"There is one," Calvin said. "You won't like it."
"Which is?" Mitchell asked.
"Take what remains and head past the Rim, into unexplored space. Find a world to settle on, and restart humankind."
"You're right, I don't like it."
"Me neither," Steven said. "What happens when the Tetron figure it out and come for us? We'd only be delaying the inevitable."
"Only if they figured it out. Perhaps a single ship would be sufficient. With the level of technology we'll have remaining, staying hidden on a planet's surface should be fairly easy."
"Even if you somehow managed to find another E-type planet out there, the Tetron will have the rest of eternity to sweep the galaxy," Mitchell said. "They'll find a human settlement sooner or later and destroy it."
"I know the path the last Federation colony ship took," Hohn said. "We could follow in its wake and join them on the new world. At least we would have more time. Perhaps centuries more. Perhaps millennia."
Mitchell shook his head. He couldn't believe he was even entertaining this line of thinking. "No. Steven, we can't. There has to be another way."
"I don't know, Mitch. He has a point."
"Calvin, can I speak to my brother in private?"
The Admiral looked at Steven, who nodded. He stood and bowed to them before exiting the room.
"You need to show a little more respect, Mitch," Steven said. "He's an Admiral in-"
"Frig that, Steve. And frig you, too. The Alliance set me up and sold me out, and yet I'm the one still desperately fighting to save our people? Me and a crew of incarcerated soldiers? Grab your crotch and make sure your balls are still there."
"Mitch-"
"Shut up, Steve. Look, I left out part of my story. When I was on Hell, I entered this virtual world the Tetron call a Construct. Origin left something for me in there. I don't know what it is, but according to it the other Tetron don't know it exists, and it's important enough that it can help us with the war effort."
"You don't know what it is?"
"No. But I know where it is. They etched the coordinates into my memory."
"It altered your memory? Why didn't it implant the memory of what it was?"
"Come on, Steve. This is advanced alien tech, how the frig do I know why it works the way it does? The point is, it's out there, and it will help. If Goliath doesn't show, that should be our next move."
"Instead of trying to save what's left?"
"Yes. If it makes you feel better, you can send a ship out into unexplored space with a few Adam and Eves on it. Let them find a nice planet to land on and frig like bunnies for a few thousand years. We're soldiers. We need to keep fighting. Your wife and daughter are out there."
Steven's face twisted. "Don't you think I know that, Mitch? That they're out there, sitting on Earth wondering where I am and thinking that everything is going to be okay? This is bigger than both of us."
"It's bigger than you. Not me. I have to be big enough to stop it. That's my fate, or destiny, or bad luck, or whatever the frig you want to call it. And I've never done it! I've never won this war. Humankind dies because of me, over and over again. No pressure, Mitch." Mitchell reached out and grabbed Steven by the shoulders. "I could use a lot of support in this. Especially from
my big brother."
Steven stared at Mitchell, his lip quivering.
"Don't get all emotional on me," Mitchell said.
"You're right. I know you're right. We'll fight, even if we die trying. You have my fleet, what little of it is left. We're beat up and out of ammo, but we make good targets."
Mitchell laughed. "Thank you."
He gave Steven a short hug and backed away, turning his head to look out the viewport again. There was still no sign of the Goliath.
Steven walked over to stand next to Mitchell. The two of them stared out into space.
"How long do we wait?" Steven asked.
"I don't know. A day?"
"A day sounds good."
Steven's eyes reached into the darkness. Not that he would need to look that hard when the Goliath did show up, but because it helped him try to focus his thoughts. He picked a distant point in space, concentrating on the black emptiness. It had been so long since he and Mitchell had spoken to one another like that. Like brothers.
He had missed it.
He let a half-smile climb onto his face. He blinked his eyes, prepared to lead Mitchell to the bridge so they could address the rest of the fleet.
Where an instant earlier had been darkness, there was now something sitting at the very edge of his sight.
"Hey, Mitch," he said, squinting slightly to better make out the object.
"What's up?"
"Funny. A ship just came out of hyperspace over where I'm looking."
Mitchell shifted his gaze to look for it. "You know I don't have your eyes. Nobody does. But you would think I'd be able to see a ship."
"That's the thing. Didn't you say you escaped from Liberty in a starfighter?"
Mitchell froze. "Yes. An S-17 with a hyperspace engine."
"Did you name it Fido?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if it's here, and Goliath isn't..."
Like a dog coming to its master for help. Mitchell felt his pulse quicken, and he grabbed Steven by the arm.
"We need to go. Now!"
58