Onslaught

by Scott Bartlett

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue: Expanding Ops

  Chapter 1: Justice

  Chapter 2: Scandium

  Chapter 3: First Contact

  Chapter 4: Disaster into Opportunity

  Chapter 5: Raise That Gun

  Chapter 6: Full Retreat

  Chapter 7: Mobile Command Unit

  Chapter 8: The Greater Good

  Chapter 9: Rent and Torn

  Chapter 10: Hold Your Fire

  Epilogue: Not Gods but Devils

  Onslaught

  © Scott Bartlett 2017

  This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 License. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0

  This novelette is a work of fiction. All of the characters, places, and events are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, businesses, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Expanding Ops

  Commander Leroy Cunningham met Sadie in the reception room ten minutes after his secretary had shown her to a chair—long enough to communicate some level of agency and resistance, but not too long to keep a Darkstream executive waiting.

  Cunningham emerged from his office in full uniform, which she’d expected. His lined face was clean-shaven. What gray hair she could see poking out from beneath his cap was clipped short.

  Unlike some other company executives, Sadie did not relish the opportunity to subjugate military personnel or rub their faces in just how much leverage Darkstream had over the UHF—humanity’s main spacefaring military. She merely sought to exploit that leverage. To use it as a tool.

  “Right this way, Ms. Harper,” Commander Cunningham said, pushing open a paneled door of dark oak that lacked a handle. It swung open to reveal an office that struck just the right balance between the privilege conferred by Cunningham’s rank and the austerity that people tended to associate with the military.

  “Please,” Cunningham said, gesturing at a chair clearly meant for guests, which boasted more upholstery than the one the commander settled into. “Sit.”

  “My pleasure, Commander,” Sadie said, dropping into the seat in a fashion calculated to convey easygoingness, as well as a modest level of familiarity.

  “I trust you have the full authority of Darkstream’s board of directors to discuss the matters outlined in your email, and to make decisions that concern them,” Cunningham said, maintaining the same facial expression of polite formality.

  Sadie’s mouth quirked. The commander didn’t seem to be meeting her halfway, in terms of developing a cheery rapport. His language reeked of strict military formality and discipline.

  Typical.

  Suppressing a sigh, she said, “Of course. My mandate is clear, and I’m very clear on exactly what that mandate is.”

  “Good. I reviewed your email just prior to your arrival, and I understand Darkstream wants to expand its operations in the Bastion Sector.”

  “That’s right, Commander. Expanding our ops, particularly on Planet Thessaly, will allow us to justify a greater presence of Darkstream combat operatives, which in turn will confer greater security—not only to our own employees, but to UHF personnel also.”

  “Not to mention growing company profits by a healthy margin next quarter.”

  Narrowing her eyes slightly, Sadie said, “Yes…” She wasn’t accustomed to hearing military officials talk so candidly about profits. Actually, she considered it somewhat rude.

  I wonder how long Cunningham will last as a designated liaison between the UHF and Darkstream.

  “After which, you’ll no doubt lobby for leave to expand your presence even further,” Cunningham continued.

  “I’m afraid I’m not privy to the board’s longterm plans.” In truth, she wasn’t sure the board even had plans that extended beyond the next quarter. All forecasting and planning tended to focus on the very short-term.

  The commander didn’t bother to suppress the sigh that leaked from his lips. “Well, Ms. Harper, like you, I’m also clear on my mandate. What you’ve requested is within what I’ve been authorized to grant you.”

  “Excellent,” she said with a curt nod, having given up on her attempt at familiarity and reverted to cold cordiality. “Now, there was one other issue I wanted to raise, which I neglected to mention in my email…”

  Cunningham quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “It concerns a special forces operative who I understand is under your command. That’s why it’s convenient for me to broach the subject now.”

  “Who?”

  “Seaman Gabriel Roach. As we expand our operations in the Bastion Sector, we’ll need talented soldiers with diversified skill sets. He fits the bill nicely.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Cunningham said, and now his voice had acquired a hard edge. “Roach is the best soldier I have, out of all four platoons I’m responsible for. His performance metrics are the best I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yes. I’m sure you can understand our interest.”

  But Cunningham was shaking his head. “You’ve already stripped our regular forces of most talented soldiers, whose training we paid for, and whose experience was acquired on the back of the UHF.”

  “Whose salaries we’ve doubled,” Sadie added quietly.

  “Yes. Oh, yes. That’s why your efforts have been so effective. Well, as for Roach, I’m afraid I have to say no. He signed a ten-year contract with the UHF, and he only just started his second year with us.”

  “I have good news, Commander,” Sadie said, fishing a tablet from an inside breast pocket of her blazer. “You don’t have to say ‘no’ after all.”

  He accepted the tablet from across the desk, studying its screen with a grim expression.

  “It’s a signed order from the Secretary of Defense herself,” Sadie said, her tone neutral. “Authorizing you to allow Roach to break his contract, provided he consents to it, of course.”

  “I can see that.” The commander sighed again. “Of course he’ll consent,” he spat, the last word dripping with venom.

  “Excellent. Then, unless you have anything else to discuss, I’ll take my leave.”

  Lips tightening, Cunningham said, “This constant poaching of our best talent…this incessant capitalizing on public investment…”

  Sadie stayed silent. Somebody’s a sore loser.

  “Roach won’t get the sense of duty and honor he would have gotten from serving the full decade with the UHF,” Cunningham said at last. “This request is highly unusual, and the fact it was actually granted is more unusual still.”

  “Forgive me, Commander, but I consider this new trajectory our conversation has taken to be improper.”

  Cunningham leveled a finger at her. “Someday, Darkstream will be made to pay for its deeds. Someday, the Commonwealth will cure itself of the disease that is your employer.”

  Blinking, Sadie returned his stare with a blank one of her own.

  “Get out of my sight,” he said.

  With pleasure. Sadie rose, leaving the office without another word. Somehow, she doubted she’d see Commander Cunningham again.

  Chapter 1

  Justice

  3 Years Later

  Bronson shifted in the Captain’s chair, just as he was sure every other captain was doing in the sizable battle group that had defected from the UHF.

  “Coms, tell our missile cruisers to position themselves opposite each other, with one on each end of our formation. I want all our ships nice and spread out. I don’t want to offer Keyes the opportunity for anyone two-for-ones.” He paused to scrutinize the tactical display. “Tell our corvettes and frigates to shift forward—they’ll serve as
our first line of defense against the enemy’s fighters. I want the other two destroyers on either side of the Javelin, and together, all three destroyers will target the supercarrier.”

  “Aye, sir. Relaying your orders now.”

  “Tell the colony ships to stay well behind us, and away from the likely trajectory of any ordnance.”

  The Providence approached at a stately pace. Alone and facing a battle group of this size, any other captain would have charged, lending more energy to their ordnance.

  Not Keyes.

  He’s trying to intimidate us.

  And it was working.

  Willing his voice not to shake, Bronson said, “Coms, send the Providence a transmission request.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s been accepted.”

  The hard, dark face of Leonard Keyes appeared on the CIC’s main viewscreen, wearing a cold glare for Bronson.

  “What’s your angle here, Keyes,?” Bronson asked, keeping his tone as light as he could.

  “Justice.”

  “Come, now,” Bronson said, and a slight tremor crept into his voice. He hoped Keyes hadn’t picked up on that. “You can’t expect us not to defend these people. They only want to find a new home.”

  “They want to flee their crimes.”

  “I won’t let you do this, Keyes. I will oppose you.”

  “Then you’ll die.” Keyes turned toward someone off-screen. “Cut the transmission. Werner, put up a tactical display, full-screen.”

  Keyes vanished from the viewscreen.

  “Damn it,” Bronson muttered.

  “The Providence is launching Condors, sir. It appears to be her entire Air Group.”

  “I can see that.”

  “They’re headed for our leftmost missile cruiser. And—sir, the Providence has targeted the other cruiser with her primary laser! It’s been neutralized, sir!”

  Both our missile cruisers. Now, wherever the Darkstream colony fleet went, it would lack cruisers until they were able to build more—which, without the industrial base they’d benefited from until recently, would be far easier said than done.

  Of course, that’s providing we escape at all.

  Keyes was clearly very upset. And if Bronson was being entirely honest, he couldn’t really blame him.

  Besides the fact that Bronson himself had led two mutinies against the man, the second one successful, there were also the broader facts of what Darkstream had done to the Human Commonwealth.

  For one, it had continued using dark tech—technology that enabled instantaneous communication between distant star systems, travel through wormholes to anywhere and from anywhere, as well as simulated gravity. But dark tech had also been found to weaken the very fabric of the universe.

  Since Darkstream’s dominance had been built on dark tech, however, it had been extremely reluctant to abandon it.

  And so, it had done what it could to influence the Commonwealth’s politicians, bribing them so that they would implement Darkstream’s agenda. That had led to wars with alien species once humanity’s allies, all while a greater threat loomed in the background: that of the Ixa.

  Bronson believed Darkstream would have been able to handle the Ixa, had the public not risen up. But it wouldn’t get the chance, now.

  The public’s uprising had ended the company’s broad influence, and now Keyes was here to bring its remaining employees and executives to what he called justice; to prevent them from fleeing the galaxy as they planned.

  At least, that’s what he claims is his purpose. But is he really going to arrest two million people?

  Bronson thought it much more likely Keyes simply wanted a measure of vengeance for what had been done to him in prison, following Bronson’s second mutiny.

  When the enemy Air Group succeeded in taking out a corvette, and then moved on to a frigate, Bronson turned to his Coms officer. “Contact the Providence and offer our surrender.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Soon, Captain Keyes was on the Javelin CIC’s main viewscreen once more.

  “We surrender, Captain Keyes. All our warships have stood down. I only ask that you allow our colony ships to leave, though I hate to think that they could be going unwittingly into hostile space, totally unprotected…”

  “Shut up, Bronson. I’m too tired to put up with your games today. You can take your warships and go with these criminals into oblivion, for all I care…on two conditions.”

  “Absolutely. Yes. Anything, Captain.”

  “I said shut up. One, you are to stop using dark tech immediately. Two…you will give me Tennyson Steele.”

  Bronson hesitated. Steele was Darkstream’s CEO. He was also the man who’d mangled Keyes’s face while he’d been in jail, using a set of brass knuckles.

  So, he is here for revenge…I should really run this by the board of directors.

  On the other hand, it was possible the directors be happy to get rid of Steele. The man did rule them pretty harshly.

  He decided to gamble. “Yes. All right. I’ll give you Steele.”

  “I’ll expect him inside my Hangar Bay E within a half hour. Keyes out.”

  The viewscreen reverted to a tactical display, and Bronson heaved a sigh of relief.

  He’d done it. He would live, and Darkstream would get to flee the galaxy without having to face the steep consequences Keyes might have brought to bear.

  Now, he just had to contend with the company’s board of directors, and hope that he’d made the right call in handing over Steele.

  Chapter 2

  Scandium

  Gabriel Roach had always hated going through those wormholes. Every time, he felt sure the CIC crew would mess something up; maybe fail to position the conductor correctly in order to recapture the energy when it closed. If that happened, the wormhole would collapse, its energy blasting in every direction and incinerating everything within twenty light-minutes.

  Including him. Definitely including him.

  Two hours after the Providence left the Casper System, Lieutenant Commander Bob Bronson had given the order for a wormhole to be opened, and shortly after that, the resettlement fleet had begun passing through it.

  To a whole new galaxy, Gabriel Roach reflected as he dismantled his assault rifle, inspecting each part. He liked to check it twice—once as he took the gun apart and once upon reassembly.

  A tremor passed through the shuttle, which was currently carrying him and other Darkstream soldiers through a rambunctious high-altitude weather system.

  This was a first in human history, and so Gabe found it ironic that most humans wouldn’t know about it for a while, if ever.

  Back when Ochrim had first given humanity dark tech, the Ixan had warned against ever using it to open a wormhole to another galaxy. Based on the prevalence of intelligent life in the Milky Way, it was considered exceedingly likely that other galaxies teemed with spacefaring species, too.

  By entering a new galaxy, the Darkstream employees and the rogue UHF ships escorting them had risked running into a species more technologically advanced than humans. And that would come with a host of other risks, such as the species possessing the ability to find their way back to the Milky Way, maybe by reading the residue of the wormhole somehow.

  It was even possible they’d be able to tell the human ships’ origins just from the metals used to build them.

  But that was what made the Darkstream resettlement fleet historically unique: they didn’t care about risking a powerful alien enemy finding humanity’s home galaxy, because they were leaving that galaxy forever.

  All two million people in the fleet considered remaining near other humans the greater risk.

  Either way…no sign of aliens yet.

  The very first system they’d entered in this new galaxy had contained little of interest, but no one had expected it to. It was just a lonely ice giant orbiting a brown dwarf star.

  Darkstream’s navigational experts hadn’t brought them to that system because they expected it would cont
ain a place suitable for colonization. No, they’d chosen it exactly because it seemed unattractive, and therefore wasn’t likely to have unfriendly occupants.

  From there, company astronomers had employed their tried-and-true roster of techniques for indirectly evaluating exoplanets. Someone had tried to explain them to Gabe, once, but he’d quickly zoned out during the litany. Gravitational micro-something…aurora radial…something…

  He gave his head a brisk shake and refocused on the shuttle’s display, which showed the intense weather outside the craft. Sensors said the storm cleared up farther below, and Gabe was looking forward to that.

  The astronomers had finally settled on a star that looked promising, with one planet orbiting it that had the right mix in its atmosphere, along with four that didn’t.

  If I push through to the front of the shuttle, I could be the first person to step foot on a planet in another galaxy.

  He would miss the missions to the Bastion Sector, where he’d fought alongside UHF marines to put down various insurgencies. He’d relished every chance he’d gotten to neutralize a radical.

  That said, he’d hated the constant red tape and stifling oversight from the UHF brass. They’d been Darkstream’s most overbearing client.

  Now, it occurred to Gabe that there would be far fewer rules. The only laws would be company policy. There’d be no government bureaucrats breathing down their necks, terrified that details on ops would leak to the traitorous news media.

  This galaxy meant a brand new start, and Gabe burned with a sudden desire to make sure they did it right.

  The shuttle finally touched down on the planet’s surface, in a clearing amidst a sea of trees shaped like Earth’s pine trees, except with cascading waves of bare, spindly branches where their cones should have been.

  “Atmosphere checks out, according to these readings,” said one of the scientists, hunching over a tablet. “Still, we should send a rover out there first, just to play it safe.”

  “Screw that,” Gabe said, ripping off his straps and getting to his feet. “I won’t have some robot be the first one to walk on this planet. If I choke out there, you’ll know it’s not safe.” He raised his voice so the shuttle pilot could hear: “Open the airlock!”