Pride of the Fleet (Ixan Legacy Book 2)

by Scott Bartlett

  His eyes fell on the officials sent by the president. “The IU doesn’t get to slide into tyranny. You don’t get to violate the principles of a democratic society just to impose your own misguided vision on the world. The people will rise up and tear you down for that. It’s happened before and it’ll happen again. But we don’t have time for it.” Husher shook his head. “You can have the alliance with the Assembly of Elders, because we need it. But that doesn’t mean imitating them, and it doesn’t mean letting them influence how we govern ourselves. We live in a free society, where everyone has the opportunity to make something of themselves—and yes, where we help each other out. But we don’t tear one group down to help another.

  “I hope that’s all very well understood,” he said. “Because like I said, there are certain things I’ll stand for, and certain things I won’t. And if I have to come after anyone for destabilizing our society again, I’m not going to do it with any mercy. Because anyone doing that is helping the Progenitors destroy us. And I don’t take kindly to that.” He raised his eyebrows. “Any questions?”

  Lisa Sato stood from among her Oneiri teammates, and Husher turned toward her. “Yes, Sato?”

  But she didn’t speak. Instead, she drew her sidearm and placed it against Price’s head.

  Everything seemed to happen at once. Cries of alarm rose, and Husher reached for his own sidearm, knowing he was too late.

  Near Sato and Price, Maeve leapt from her seat and tackled Sato. The gun fired, and Price fell.

  Husher sprinted across the chamber and stomped on Sato’s gun hand, which caused her to drop the firearm. He picked it up, safetied it, and tucked it inside his belt.

  As Ash Sweeney and Beth Arkanian restrained Sato, Husher knelt beside Price, hands probing the seaman’s head.

  The bullet had left a furrow in the side of Jake’s skull, and through the gore it was difficult to tell how deep it went.

  Husher wrenched his com from its holster to summon paramedics from the Cybele General Hospital.

  Chapter 64

  Sleeper Agent

  “So Husher is back in the IU’s good books?” Bronson said, staring across the table at Eve Quinn. They were having lunch in Tartarus Station’s cafeteria, as they did regularly, so that they could touch base about progress on the Project.

  “He was never in our good books,” Quinn said. “But he does remain annoyingly relevant to the war effort. The Progenitors pose an existential threat. There’s no getting around that. So certain elements inside the government—such as the agency I work for, for example—are thinking that maybe it’s best to wait till after the war to make our move. In the meantime, we can quietly prepare. Which is what you and I are doing, Bronson.”

  “You really think there’s an ‘after the war,’ huh? You say it with such confidence.”

  “I’m a confident gal. You know that.” Quinn’s lips spread into her usual smile, which made him feel like she was making fun of him even when she wasn’t speaking. “Husher will be dealt with in time. For now, we’ve decided we’ll be following the Darkstream model when it comes to implementation. Sell the military on the idea of using implants to more efficiently pilot craft of all sorts—just like the mech pilots do. What if a Python pilot could become the Python? What if a Nav officer could be the warship? And once everyone starts to appreciate the military applications, we’ll start selling the public on them. Lucid tech will be adopted kind of like Oculenses were, except in reverse: military first, then public.”

  “I find this all deeply ironic,” Bronson said.

  They compared notes a while longer, until Quinn had to go. Bronson watched her leave the cafeteria, then he got up too, leaving their trays for the cleaning staff to take care of.

  Since arriving on Tartarus, he’d learned that the agency Quinn worked for was called the Galactic Intelligence Bureau, or GIB. As far as he could tell, they had an incredibly long reach, which made him impressed that they’d managed to conceal their existence from the public for so long. The Darkstream board could have learned a thing or two from them.

  He entered his modest quarters fifteen minutes later, climbing onto his bed to lie on his back, without bothering to take off his boots. Before Imbros, he’d always been used to more comfort than this, though not too much more. He had spent most of his life on warships.

  After Imbros, this felt like the lap of luxury. It was a lot better than sleeping in damp alleyways.

  “Bronson,” a voice said, and he cried out.

  Sitting up, he saw one of the Progenitors’ telepresence robots standing in the middle of the room. “Are you really here?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he fought to steady his breathing. “What is it? Why have you contacted me?”

  “Our sleeper agent was activated, and she succeeded in creating a conflict within the IU by informing them about a Quatro fugitive being given refuge aboard the Vesta. But she failed to neutralize one of our primary targets, and she has now been apprehended.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “It has everything to do with you. It’s your turn, now, Bronson. Your time has come.”

  Epilogue

  Identify Yourself

  As they drew closer to the Progenitors’ home dimension, the silence inside the Spire’s CIC grew uneasier.

  Sitting at the Tactical Station felt odd to Fesky—wrong, almost. She’d quickly grown accustomed to the command seat’s centrality. From it, she could easily see every officer’s console. Here, she had to twist uncomfortably to look at Nav or Helm, and when she did, the empty command seat always caught her eye.

  “We’re here,” Nav said.

  Fesky turned to her sensor operator, hating that she still had to deal with him after his screwups back in Larkspur. If they’d been able to rejoin the Vesta before coming here, she could have replaced him, and found a new Tactical officer. Now they were inside enemy territory with a crew she was far from happy with.

  “What do you see?” she asked Yvan, who was staring hard at his console.

  “Nothing that makes sense,” he muttered.

  “Yvan! Describe to me what you see!”

  The sensor operator jerked in his seat. “Sorry, Captain. It’s just—well, we’re in a star system filled with Progenitor ships. Thousands and thousands of them, all in heliocentric orbit, just sitting there. There are shuttles going back and forth between them and various stations and colonies, but none of the ships have reacted to our presence yet. We’re at the edge of the system, near a large asteroid belt, and it’s possible they’ve yet to distinguish us from the asteroids.”

  “That doesn’t sound so far off what we expected,” Fesky said. “What about this doesn’t make sense?”

  “A couple of things, ma’am. For one, just past the asteroid belt, space seems to just…stop. There aren’t any other stars shining in the universe. There’s nothing. Just pitch-black nothing.”

  Fesky sat in silence for a moment, puzzling over what Yvan had told her.

  “I just picked up on an asteroid whose course is taking it toward the edge,” Yvan said. “Should I put it on visual?’

  “Yes.”

  The main display changed to a zoomed-in visual of the asteroid, and they all watched as it neared the strange border.

  When the asteroid hit, it disintegrated, and ripples of electric-blue energy spread out from the point of impact.

  “It’s like the forcefield Teth generated around Klaxon’s moon,” Fesky murmured. But is it meant to keep things in or something else out? “You said there were two things, Yvan.”

  The sensor operator nodded. “Yes, ma’am. This system—the configuration of planets, the star’s profile—if I’m not mistaken, this is the Sol System.”

  That left Fesky just as baffled, but she didn’t have time to think about it. On her console’s tactical display, one of the Progenitor ships had broken off from the immense fleet and was heading directl
y for them.

  “Should we transition out, ma’am?” her Nav officer asked.

  “Standby to do that, but don’t do it yet,” Fesky said. “They’ll enter real-time coms range before they can threaten us with Ravagers or their particle beam. Let’s see if they have anything to say.”

  The Spire sat there for hours, next to what had to be the Kuiper Belt, if they were truly in this universe’s equivalent of the Sol System. Meanwhile, they continued to observe the system, collecting as much data as they could in the time they had. Anything the IGF can use.

  Sure enough, as the Progenitor ship—a destroyer—drew near, Fesky’s Coms officer turned to her. “We’re getting a transmission request, ma’am.”

  Fesky nodded. “Put it on the display.”

  When she saw the man who appeared on her CIC’s main display, it felt like a fist of ice had punched her in the stomach. He bore a scar that ran diagonally across his face, from his temple to his chin, and it had healed poorly, leaving his mouth misshapen. But otherwise, Fesky would have recognized that face anywhere.

  “Unknown vessel, identify yourself at once or prepare to be attacked,” he said.

  Fesky tried to speak, but couldn’t at first. Then, finally, she managed it: “Husher?”

  He narrowed his eyes, though otherwise he didn’t react. For the first time, Fesky sensed the coldness that exuded from him—as though he was ready to kill her without a glimmer of remorse. For her, that was the most jarring thing of all.

  “How do you know my name?” he said.

  Thank you for reading!

  Sign up for the mailing list and read Captain and Command for free, the prequel to Ixan Legacy.

  Captain and Command is exclusive to mailing list subscribers - only you’ll get to read it. It reveals what role Captain Husher played in the Gok Wars.

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  Dedication

  To those who stand on principle.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Rex Bain, Bruce A. Brandt, and Jeff Rudolph for offering insightful editorial input and helping to make this book as strong as it could be.

  Thank you to Tom Edwards for creating such stunning cover art.

  Thank you to my family - your support means everything.

  Thank you to Cecily, my heart.

  Thank you to the people who read my stories, write reviews, and help spread the word. I couldn’t do this without you.

  Supercarrier is Book 1 of the Ixan Prophecies Trilogy. It tells the story of the battles Captain Keyes and Lieutenant Husher participated in during the Second Galactic War against the Ixa.

  Two sample chapters from Supercarrier follow.

  If you’d prefer to just get Supercarrier now, click here.

  Chapter 1

  Providence

  “Providence, this is Gadfly. Requesting permission for landing. I have Captain Vin Husher aboard.”

  “It’s First Lieutenant, now,” Husher said, but the freighter captain had already taken his thumb away from the transponder. The man reddened at his mistake, but to correct it would prove even more embarrassing, for everyone.

  “Gadfly, this is Providence. You are cleared for landing on Flight Deck E.”

  They watched as the supercarrier grew bigger on the viewscreen—even larger and more beat-up than it looked in the news vids. Still, the sight made his skin tingle. No one could deny the ship’s majesty, or its quiet dignity, with massive primary flight decks spread out like wings. Or its menace. The Providence bristled with artillery.

  Command kept the old juggernaut out of sight as much as possible, but the public demanded to be kept updated on Captain Keyes’s doings. Just knowing he was out there, completing missions without reliance on dark tech, made people feel safer.

  Having recovered somewhat from his cringeworthy flub, the freighter captain attempted to make amends. “It’s been an honor having you aboard, First Lieutenant Husher.”

  Husher suppressed a bitter chuckle. The freighter captain had barely spoken during the journey into the Bastion Sector, and only once since they’d entered the Larkspur System, to tell his passenger they’d arrived. But silence was better than other types of treatment Husher’s name had earned him in the past.

  “It’s been a pleasure traveling aboard the Gadfly,” he said. “I’m sorry you were commandeered for the purpose of transporting me. I hope the Fleet’s compensating you for your time.”

  “They compensated me,” the freighter captain said. “Some.”

  Not nearly enough to make up for lost profits, I’m sure, Husher thought to himself.

  Flight Deck E sat empty, and no one came out to direct their landing, apparently confident that it would be pretty hard to screw up. A strip of dim lights offered a half-hearted suggestion of where to touch down, and the freighter captain took it, executing a much gentler landing than Husher would have expected.

  By that time, Husher had already donned a pressurized suit and was waiting near the airlock, where he’d clipped himself to the bulkhead in case the freighter’s landing had been closer to his expectations. The captain reappeared just as Husher finished entering the temporary security code he’d been given to open the airlock.

  “I wanted you to know…I was a boy when your father took the fight to the Ixa. He was my hero, back then. I-I don’t believe what they say about him. I don’t think he was a traitor.”

  “I do,” Husher said, punching the button to open the airlock. He stepped inside and turned to lock eyes with the captain as the bulkhead came back together. The hiss of departing atmosphere began.

  A row of inactive Condor fighters caught his eye as he walked through the void of Flight Deck E. The Ocharium nanites in his suit and his cells attracted the captured Majorana fermions in the deck, keeping him firmly anchored and simulating one G. For a moment, he wondered whether floating away might not be a better fate than getting consigned to this ship. According to research he’d conducted aboard the Gadfly, only two of the Providence’s eight flight decks saw very much action. I’ve been consigned to a museum, not a battleship, Husher thought.

  He stepped out of the flight deck’s airlock to find a woman dressed in full fatigues waiting for him on the other side. He chuckled. “Expecting a battle, Sergeant?”

  “Actually, yes.” She was having trouble hiding her disdain for him, and her eyes narrowed as they lingered on his facial hair. “In the Bastion Sector, there’s always a battle on the horizon. You’ll learn that soon enough. In the meantime, I’m here to take you to the captain.”

  “Lead on, then, Sergeant Caine,” he said, reading from her nametag.

  For all the ship’s size, the corridors that networked the Providence were incredibly cramped. Atmosphere was expensive, after all, mainly due to the cost of hauling it up from a livable planet’s gravity well. Dark tech had enabled many things, but it hadn’t been much of a boon to life support systems. So the parts of the ship where the crew lived and worked were kept as small as possible.

  “First Lieutenant Husher reporting for duty,” he said once he was inside the Captain’s office. The room was sparsely decorated—a photo here, a certificate there. Husher snapped off a salute.

  “At ease. And close the hatch.”

  Husher did so, turning to stand with his feet spread apart and his hands folded behind him. He was not invited to sit. Instead, Keyes took a moment to study him.

  “A beard,” the captain said.

  “Yes, sir. I grew it during my voyage on the Gadfly. Do you like it?”

  “It looks fine. It’s also against Fleet regulations. I want it shaved.”

  “But you’re no stranger to skirting Fleet regs, sir. At least, if your reputation is any indication.”

  Keyes fixed him with his famous impassive stare—the one he always wore in the news vids. It was bracketed by bushy eyebrows. “I’m also no stranger to having my orders carried out efficiently and without questio
n. That goes for battle ops and it goes for how my crew present themselves—to each other, to their allies, and to the enemy. Shave the beard.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your arrival comes as something of a surprise. Fleet Command chose to notify me a mere five hours ago, despite that you’ve been on your way to the Larkspur System for days. Reading between the lines, I take it your reassignment to the Providence is meant as an additional disciplinary measure, on top of your demotion. Is that how you see it too, Lieutenant? Speak freely, please. I would know your mind.”

  No problem. “Well, considering the Providence is understaffed, underfunded, basically on its last legs—”

  “My ship is not on its last legs.” Suddenly, Keyes’s stare was anything but impassive, and sweat gleamed on his dark skin. The captain’s broad shoulders rose and fell with deepening breaths.

  “You asked me to speak freely.”

  “And now I’m inviting you to stop. Given your sudden arrival, I have to quickly figure out where you’ll fit in. For now, I’m sending you planetside under the command of Sergeant Sera Caine, who you just met.”

  “Planetside?” I just got here.

  “Correct. Thessaly, to be specific.”