Constellation (Blood Empire Book 1)

by Robert Scanlon

“Local spies, given the time frame.” I look up at the dome, and as if anticipating my next question, the ship responds.

  <>

  “What does that mean?” I almost spit out the words.

  <>

  Sixteen minutes.

  I look at Plexi. “How long until the Jovians are within range?”

  She doesn’t need to look at her panel to tell me. “Twelve minutes, max, Captain.” She looks at me, waiting for instruction. Instead, I check in with Garnek.

  “General Garnek, have you reached them yet?”

  “Yes. Danielli is badly hurt, unconscious. Herg also hurt, bleeding. The Chief and Ortiz are okay. I’m dragging them away with the Chief’s help. He wanted to stay and fight, but there’s no point.”

  I hear him hesitate. “May I speak plainly?”

  “General, I’m upset you have to ask. I’m not exactly an experienced battleship captain.”

  “We may argue about that—but quickly: I have loyal followers in the Scorpion’s fleet.”

  “I imagine so. And?”

  “Can you patch me into them?”

  What Garnek intends dawns on me, and I furrow my brow. “Maybe. If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, it’s worth a try. Better standby for an all-ships broadcast. I’ll do my best. Admiral.”

  “Roger that.” I hear his grin.

  But I’m not smiling. I can only hope my battlecruiser will let me have enough power to hack the Scorpion’s comms. And that I have the smarts to pull off the greatest hack of all Sector-time.

  I swipe into the holo and drill down into the comms code. “Allow full programmatic access.” I hear the tightness in my voice. I reach the root comms and scan for the Scorpion’s chatter ... and find it.

  “Open Channels 557.1 to 7468. Full broadcast power. Source transmission”—I glance at my commPanel to check Garnek’s suit ID—“Suit Comm ID 22834, located at minilock 138.”

  <>

  “Impact on self-repair completion?”

  <>

  Probability of us surviving if the Jovians get to us? Zero percent.

  “Confirm instruction. Divert power to broadcast channel as requested.” I tap Garnek’s private channel. “Better make it quick. Every second reduces our power. You’re on in ten.”

  “I’ll make my words count.”

  We wait, then the air buzzes. All-comms includes us apparently. Garnek’s authority-laden voice booms through the helmroom and our suitcomms.

  “Admiral Simpson on all-comms. Attention all Commanding Officers. Hostile Jovian enemy fleet is within range and attacking. I order every man and woman to defend Takao to the death. This order supersedes all previous orders, effectively immediately. For our honor! For Takao!”

  I cut the power diversion. I cannot bring myself to watch the screens, only the progress of the self-repair is left for me now. “Self-repair status?” I say, conscious of my weariness.

  <>

  Bootup commands?

  I look at Mitch. He opens his hands wide. Plexi shrugs.

  Aktip works away on her own panel, then looks over to me. “Some of the Scorpion’s ships are leaving her splinter group. Some left then returned. Approximately twenty-five percent are heading to the Jovians.”

  “Not enough,” I mutter.

  “Enough to keep them busy and off our backs for a little while. Speaking of which, can you close the locks?”

  “Not yet. Apparently I need to issue a bootup command for the self-repair. Any ideas?”

  “Knowing your father, it would be something you and Mitch would both know instinctively.”

  My brother and I exchange glances again. Papa was known for his self-deprecating humor. He used to refer to himself as “the greatest of all time,” with his tongue firmly in his cheek. Though if he’d managed to equip the Constellation with a complete self-repair system, few people would disagree with him. My brother was even named after the artist they called the greatest of all time, Michelangelo, which was Papa’s little joke—

  “Wait!” I say, “I have it.”

  Mitch looks at me. “You got me. So go ahead. Take your time. We can wait.”

  I scowl at him. “Constellation, bootup reinstalled drive. Bootup command: Michelangelo.”

  Mitch groans over the comms.

  Silence.

  <>

  I search my brain. Papa wouldn’t have made it that hard. He would have chosen something memorable, something indelible, impossible to forget—

  I jerk awake, remembering Pedro’s last words to me on NewSwiss12. “Constellation, bootup reinstalled drive. Bootup command: The Divine One.”

  <>

  The ship shudders. A vibration from its depths travels like a wave through all of us. I grab my helmchair’s arms in reflex.

  The dome light switches to a pulsing green broken-line and begins to circle around us in an ever increasing velocity, until it becomes a green blur.

  A piercing whine makes it impossible to think and we all reach for our comms controls.

  “What is it?” Mitch shouts at me, his voice distant over the muted comms.

  I shake my head and throw up my arms. Whatever it is, we are at the ship’s mercy.

  The helmroom springs to life. Every panel dances with lights: the dome’s racing pulse stops and dims to a low glow, and a muted off-white light with no observable source bathes the helmroom with a gentle reassurance. The brushed surfaces and onyx table take on a rich, opulent gleam.

  All of which I ignore, and spin my holo around, swiping to get to the power status. I speak to the ship at the same time. “Constellation, engage lock down mode. Captain Jackson emergency override. Close all open locks.”

  <>

  I breathe a sigh of relief and peer at the holopanel.

  And look again.

  Mitch and Plexi are doing the same. They both look at me. So do Aktip and Zhang.

  “I guess you’re seeing what I’m seeing?”

  They all nod inside their suits.

  I look back down at the holopanel’s display. I’ve chosen the energy status. I need to know if the drive repair has worked. The fastest way to see that on any ship is check the power status. If that has a reading, then no need to look under the hood, to use an ancient phrase.

  My holo is showing the following: ENERGY STATUS: CALCULATION FAILED. ESTIMATED RESERVES: INFINITE.

  The Divine One indeed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  “Any chance of helping me get these guys to medbay?”

  Crap. Garnek. I imagine Danielli in a pool of blood. I push out of my chair, but Mitch holds me back.

  He looks me in the eye. “I’ll go. You’re still healing, right? You and Plexi work out what this means. No energy is infinite, no matter how clever Papa was. If you go, you’ll only get upset, and to be completely truthful, I care more about having a well-rested Captain in full control, and at the helm. We have a slight issue with some unfriendly visitors to our party and I have a feeling you and the ship have a special understanding.”

  I nod, and watch Mitch wait for Zhang to open the helmdoors. This time I order them left open: a ship in full lock down and with apparently infinite energy supply won’t be an easy victim.

  Aktip clears her throat. “Madam Captain?”

  “Yes, Aktip?” I say, with a voice weary from tension and running on adrenaline.

  “Now that we have power, may I recommend artificial gravity and pressurization?”

  “At one-gee?”

  “I can manage one-gee, Madam.”


  “Then I agree.” I look to my right. “Plexi—weapons inventory?”

  She gives me a huge grin. “Ah ... extensive. And all operational. But our hand weapon armories are limited. As you know.”

  “I might need more detail than ‘extensive,’ Plexi,” I say with a straight face. “How about this: what do we have in the Constellation’s arsenal that will frighten around two thousand Jovian fighters?”

  Plexi swipes through her holo. “Plenty for a skirmish with a few hundred. This thing is peppered with cannons like an angry porcupine.”

  I have no idea what an angry porcupine is, but I assume Plexi refers to the Constellation’s exterior. “So no starNukes? No plasmaMines?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Atmosphere restored and artificial gravity booting up,” Aktip says. “Safe to remove helmets.”

  I can’t wait to take mine off. Fear and sweat don’t make for close friends. I feel the relief when I remove it, though my hair just sticks to my head, reminding me I’m in less than prime condition. As if the constant dull pain in my side isn’t enough.

  I explore the Constellation’s commandPanel. Some functionality seems to have been hastily added; some non-standard screens show very basic and clumsy interfaces. A couple jog old memories, but I keep swiping and after a few taps on the pad, I discover what I’m looking for: the holodome. I tap again and it comes to life.

  The dome appears transparent; a marvelous illusion, as if we are under a giant plexidome.

  In the middle of two thousand Jovian fighters.

  Plexi whistles. “Maybe we should run.”

  I consider her suggestion. Leave the Scorpion and the Jovians to engage in civil war. It wouldn’t be pretty, and the victor would still want to track the Constellation down.

  Then there would be all the innocent victims—on both Takao and Ganymede, as well as their respective outposts.

  No. Papa had set this up. He wouldn’t run away. He may not have expected to have been killed so unexpectedly, but he’d planned far enough ahead to have programmed in his successors. His plan B.

  “Plexi, set a course for the Jovians.”

  “But they are coming to us?”

  I turn to her and hold eye contact. “Do we have fDrive power?”

  She shrinks a little from my stare. “In spades. You saw the levels.”

  “Then follow my order. Let’s take the fight to them. That’s Captain Jackson speaking.”

  She shrinks even more. “Yes, Captain.”

  I have no idea what Papa equipped the Constellation with, but it defeated Oberon’s last army. What could it do against a couple of thousand Jovian ships? What I do know is that I need General Garnek. Papa was smart, but I grew up a spacepirate. Street smart maybe, but a battlecruiser’s captain in name only. I tap my comm.

  “General Garnek.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Your presence is requested in the helmroom. We have full operational functionality. I believe you have won battles in this ship before. I don’t plan to be the first Captain to lose.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  “What is your plan?” Garnek’s words reach me as he travels back. He sounds as if he is in a metal tube.

  “To force a truce. No more killing.”

  Garnek’s next words come in person and he emerges from a sliding panel outside the helmroom’s open door. A gravtube exit. Of course—he’d know the ship better than any of us, and with power restored, he’d use the fastest means of transport. “Too far gone for that, Ma’am. Neither side will want to give up their power. Everyone’s hand is shown now, and control of the Sector is within reach. And neither side will want the other to have the Constellation.”

  His words sink in. “You mean they’d both rather see the ship destroyed than fall into enemy hands?”

  The General nods. “That’s about the size of it.” He looks up at the holodome. “But I see we are headed into the hornet’s nest. Why is that?”

  I purse my lips. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure.” I hear Plexi’s sharp intake of breath. “Papa seems to have done his best to make the Constellation invincible. Maybe I can’t destroy all their ships—not that I want to—but if they see that the Constellation cannot be won with any force, they might lay down arms for parlay.”

  Garnek looks at me curiously. “Captain, please do not take this as a slight on your actions to date, but I believe you are being naïve. Even if they put down arms, this is the Jovian mafia you are dealing with. And remember, I know the Scorpion better than anyone. She’s never going to give up. Not now.”

  Once again, his words strike home. But this time for a different reason.

  “I have an idea.”

  Plexi groans and Aktip’s head swivels to me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  We reach the Jovian fleet—or rather, monstrous cloud—of ships and I halt the Constellation in front of them. Aktip tells me the Scorpion’s remaining fleet has followed us at a distance, perhaps expecting another EMP bomb. If only.

  “Get me the Jovian Commanding Officer on the comm,” I tell Aktip.

  A giant holo image appears in the dome and lowers so we can all see the image forming. The Constellation’s tech is impressive. The holo dissolves to reveal a familiar face. General Marius. A smaller image of me is inset on the bottom right.

  “Jackson. You must be here to offer surrender. Which I am prepared to accept. With conditions.”

  I raise an eyebrow, wondering if a giant eyebrow is simultaneously levitating in midair in Marius’s ship. “Presumably that I also surrender the Constellation’s tech. I have a suspicion you understand its ... unlimited potential to disrupt your Sector power?” Infinite energy—whatever that meant—would certainly put the damper on any energy trade if it got into the hands of the everyman. Or Takaon. Or Rykkan.

  Marius laughs. “Then you understand my terms, Jackson.”

  “Captain Jackson,” Garnek says. “Captain of the Constellation.”

  Marius looks genuinely surprised. “That is a bonus, Admiral Simpson. Not only do I get both the drive and the ship, but I have its Captain. That would explain why Errikson believed you and your brother would have access to the drive.”

  I lean forward. “General Marius. Have you heard of General Garnek?”

  He furrows his brow. “The man who fought Oberon? Ran away once the war was over, I believe.” He guffaws, then stops. “Your point?”

  I wave my holopan controls. The small image-in-image pans across to Garnek. “He ran nowhere. Meet General Garnek. The man who will bring you to your knees.”

  Marius freezes, then peers into the holo. Then laughs again, though he appears less certain this time. “So Simpson is Garnek. Who will singlehandedly defeat thousands of precision Jovian fighters using only his powerful team of”—he looks around in mock amazement—“a couple of Rykkans and some mercenary has-beens.”

  I pan the holo back and nod. “Sad, but true. Skill and wits can still defeat brawn. And a lack of brains. But you haven’t asked for my terms.”

  He scowls. “I don’t need them. Jovian technology exceeds the Constellation’s era.”

  I carry on. “All I ask is that you down arms so I can show you something of personal interest.”

  He stares at me. “You want what?”

  “I thought you’d agree. Plexi, can you call up my suit footage?”

  She nods, a confused look on her face. “I need the approximate timestamp though.”

  I incline my head, all the while keeping my eyes on Marius. “Take it from when we met the Scorpion in person. We were brought into the warship from outside the Constellation, and I was taken to their boardroom. Do you have it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put it up on the holo.”

  The holo runs the footage of the Scorpion carrying on conversation with me. I watch the Jovian’s face as he takes in who he has been facing off in an intra-Sector war of wills.

  “The Scorpion is a woman.” H
e speaks softly.

  I wave Plexi to stop the footage. “A powerful one. The Scorpion has beaten your every move. No Jovian attempts on Takao’s moons have ever succeeded.”

  “What of it?” He almost growls the words out.

  I smile sweetly. “Right now, I can open up an all-comms link to every Jovian ship in the region—oh yes, the Constellation can do that. I just did the same to the Scorpion. Why do you think she waits behind.”

  “So?” He narrows his eyes.

  “So I will show them that I—a woman—and the Scorpion—another woman—have had the better of General Marius. Many times. Marius is no match for us. He is a weak man. You want me to do that? How quickly will you be overthrown?”

  Marius roars. “Enough!” The holo goes black.

  “Forward, full speed, Plexi!” I yell. I glance down to the helmpad and shift settings.

  Garnek has sat down and regards me with a level eye. “You don’t need me at all.”

  “You bet I do,” I say out the corner of my mouth, pushing screens and icons around to find what jogged my memory before. “There!” I swipe the clunky black and gold icon across the pad and it expands into a glittering gold ring—now mirrored around the dome’s lower circle.

  A large section of the holo switches to a gold and black rectangle. Inside is the text: MODE: INVINCIBLE.

  I wait for the firepower to come and hold my breath.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  On the rest of the holo, I see the massive Jovian fleet coming closer as we approach each other. Seconds pass until we are in plasma range. Hundreds—thousands—of fighters swarm in and bombard the Constellation with plasmacannon fire. I cannot help but flinch.

  Garnek doesn’t. He remains impassive, watching the holo.

  All we see are splashes of white from all around the holodome as the plasma weapons find their target, and wash off.

  I force our ship further into the Jovian swarm, pushing past the plasma raining down on us, shrugging it off. I stop in the middle and wait.

  Minutes pass, as we watch fighter after fighter swarm in and try to hit some vulnerable part. I make no move to retaliate. I just wait for them to tire of their game.