“We’ve got nine minutes. Let’s get in there and get the survivors out before she blows.”
She tapped the panel on her console and patched a channel
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through to Lieutenant Commander Amelia Graydon, the leader of
Wolf Squadron, her elite Star Fury unit.
“Graydon, you’ve got five minutes to get on board that ship and
clear out all ten survivors. Be ready for anything.”
“Just another day at the office, sir,” Graydon said.
Wolf Squadron was the best of the best, personally trained by
her—still, Ivanova couldn’t shake the feeling something was going to go wrong. She wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there but she had a duty to her allies aboard the White Star.
“Split the scanners between the asteroid and a 500 click radius
around Titans, ” she ordered. “Watch for any localized power surges.
If a ship with enough power to generate its own jump point blips into sight, I want a hundred missiles up its butt before it knows what’s hit it. I don’t want any surprises.”
And then all hell broke loose.
The space before them rippled, a quivering black wave that drove fear into Susan Ivanova’s heart. A cloaked Shadow vessel. Impossible. There were no more Shadow vessels. They had left the galaxy for good. The ripple cleared revealing a massive EarthForce destroyer—black skin like a Shadow vessel, spines protruding from the forward and aft hull. Advanced Omega-class—an Earth-made ship integrated with Shadow technology.
This was the first one she’d ever seen with cloaking technology. She thought they’d wiped them all out during the war. She cursed beneath her breath. You could only prepare for potential threats based on best information. How could you prepare for something like this?
“Two more at 6 o’clock, sir!” Tsai called out.
“We’re trapped front and rear by the enemy and aft by the asteroid,”
Berensen said. “Only portside is clear.”
“Damn it!” Ivanova exclaimed. “If we take the only visible line of retreat they’ll target our flank and break through our shields in seconds.”
She turned to Breck. “We need a half-dozen White Stars. Right now!”
Ivanova had fought Advanced Omega-class once before. Then she’d
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had a fleet of White Stars at her disposal; she knew she couldn’t take all three on her own.
“Communications are being jammed, Captain,” Breck replied.
No surprise there, she thought. At least she’d sent for backup.
Another two White Stars would help balance the odds. All she had to do now was survive long enough for them reach her.
Suddenly, the first Omega-class fired its primary beam weapon, not at her ship but right into the heart of the stranded White Star.
“Full power to shields!” Ivanova called as the White Star went
nova. A rapidly expanding ball of intense, bright radiation surged towards them. It only took a split second for the ten survivors and Wolf Squadron to be annihilated. Titans was thrown sideways, towards the asteroid. The impact hammered their shields, collapsing a third of Titans’ deck under the sudden wave of pressure. Half the systems on the bridge flickered and died, Breck’s console suddenly exploded throwing him back out of his chair.
“Shields at ten percent,” Berensen called. “Rear ships have targeted our jump engines. We can’t open a jumpgate.”
The Shadow tech destroyers were closing in, attempting to trap
them against the asteroid.
“Open fire on the ship in front!” Ivanova commanded. “Everything we’ve got! Don’t give the bastards one single inch.”
Titans burst into action, a hive of activity as missiles, cannons and railguns let loose.
“We’re hammering them,” Berensen said, “but we’re taking heavy
damage to our rear shields. We’ll be dead by the time we break through their defenses.”
“Dammit, use the asteroid!” Ivanova ordered. “If we fly close it’ll give us some cover. Keep targeting the ship in front. I want it out of the game.”
Titans moved in even closer to the asteroid, hugging the rough spherical form. The incoming fire to their tail dropped off as the other
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two ships struggled to reposition themselves for a clear shot.
“Deploy remaining Star Fury squadrons. Get them in the face of
the ships behind us. High maneuverability. No direct assault. We need a distraction.”
“Star Furies deployed,” Berensen confirmed.
Ivanova checked the sensor readout on her display. The Omega-
class ships were maneuvering with incredible, intuitive dexterity, much more effectively than any she’d seen during the war. The only ships she’d seen with that kind of ability had been full-size Shadow vessels.
Telepaths. These prototypes don’t just have Shadow tech, they’ve got telepaths integrated with their systems.
“Fire the engines, full speed ahead. All remaining power to the
particle cannon. Target the cargo bays of the destroyer in front of us.
They’ve got a telepath in deep freeze plugged into each ship. Take out the telepaths and we put the ships out of commission!”
“Taking heavy hits in the exchange of fire. Our shields at five
percent, sir,” Berensen said, “but we’ve almost breached its defenses.”
“Cease fire. All power to engines. Full speed ahead.”
“Sir?”
“Now!”
Ivanova knew every inch of her ship, exactly where she could push to get results, and right now her shields were her greatest weapon.
“We’re ramming them, sir?” Berensen asked.
“No, we’re going to cut right through them. Tell the Star Furies to get clear. A hundred click blast radius. Cut engines. All power to shields. Brace for impact,” Ivanova ordered.
Titans hit the Omega-class full force, breaching the black ship’s shields, cutting into its already weakened skeleton. The impact shook Titans with violent tremors. For the first time in a long time Susan Ivanova prayed. Please God, let us live. Let this work.
The viewscreen went black, panels on the deck started exploding, a ceiling section caved in. The ship lurched and Ivanova was suddenly
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thrown from her chair, her head colliding with the railing in front of her. She struggled to her feet, trying to clear her head. And then the viewscreen cleared and they were facing the vastness of space, free of the enemy ship.
“Full power to engines. Get us clear.”
The explosion that followed nearly knocked her from her feet again.
“We’ve cleared the destroyer’s explosion,” Berensen said, “I’ve got no power reserves though. Primary engines are down. We’re at cruising speed with the gravitic engines until we can conduct repairs.”
“The two destroyers behind us took the brunt of the blast,” Tsai said, “but they’re still functional. They’ll be on us again in under thirty seconds.”
“Get us moving! Full retreat until backup arrives!” Ivanova ordered.
She turned to Tsai. “Run diagnostics. I want to know what’s still functioning.”
Berensen jumped into Lieutenant Breck’s seat and checked the display.
“I’m receiving conflicting information here Captain,” he said. “Just before the attack a localized power surge disrupted our outgoing signal.
The message for reinforcements wasn’t sent.”
“How can that be?” Ivanova replied. “You said ‘localized’? What’s the point of origin?”
“Deck 7, sir.”
“Sir, we’ve got no shields,” Tsai said. “Engines will take two days to repair. We’ve got four functioning missile bays, one heavy railgun and two light pulse cannons
operational.”
Another blast shook Titans.
“That’s a direct hit, sir.
Ivanova looked around at her command crew. They were beaten
and bloody, but not defeated. Not yet.
“Get the Star Furies back on the destroyers. Target them with any firepower we’ve got left. Buy me time.”
“Time for what?”
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“Berensen, you’re in charge,” she said, striding towards the turbo lift. “Captain?”
“Keep angling us behind the asteroid so we only have to take fire from one ship at a time. Force them to keep repositioning if they want to hit us.”
As she stepped into the flickering light of the turbo lift she felt fluid running down her forehead and into her right eye. Ivanova instinctively wiped it away and as she lowered her hand she saw blood. She recalled she’d hit her head during the battle. That explained why she suddenly found it so hard to think straight. And now that she thought of it, she felt tired. So very tired.
Keep focused, she ordered herself. Keep it together. You can rest when you’ve done your duty.
“Sir? Where will you be, sir?” Berensen’s voice came in through the speaker as the turbo lift carried her down into the ship.
“Deck 7,” she replied. “I’m going to poke our resident Vorlon
transport with a stick and see what happens.”
Susan struggled to remember the complex sequence of letters and
numbers that would grant her access to the sealed deck. It seemed as if a fog had settled over her mind and it took an enormous effort of will to overcome it.
The heavy door slid open and she stepped into darkness. It was the first time anyone had been in there since John and Lyta had helped her integrate the alien transport with Titans’ systems but there hadn’t been a day when she didn’t think about it. Her ship was like her body, an extension of herself, and having the Vorlon craft inside it was like having an unwanted skin cancer, you never forgot it was there. Sometimes she awoke to realize she’d been dreaming of it. In those dreams, she’d be back home, in Russia, and she’d suddenly spot it in the sky overhead.
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It occurred to her there’d never been a dream where she’d gone inside it, never any clue of what lay behind the living Vorlon shell.
As Ivanova moved down the metal walkway, the transport started to glow—a crimson, pulsing light with scarlet accents—revealing itself in the darkness. It looked like a giant, angry squid. There was no doubt in her mind that the pulsating glow was a warning—she wasn’t welcome.
John had told her how he’d got it to cooperate last time. He’d put his hand on it and simply talked to it. She wasn’t John. Wasn’t Vorlon-touched like he was. There was one other thing he’d said though—it had been bored. It had welcomed fighting the Shadow entity that had taken over her ship. And she suspected that was why it had jammed her outgoing signal for reinforcements. It wanted something to do. It wanted to stretch its wings.
She strode towards it with purpose and the living surface of the alien ship warped in response. A long, thick tentacle emerged from its surface, its tip hovering in the air above her, glowing with a strong, yellow light. The point of light came to rest over Susan’s heart. A targeting beam; another warning. One more step and an organic beam weapon would kill her instantly.
“This is your doing,” she said to it. “You wanted this conflict, you blocked my call for assistance, and now you’re going to set things right.”
She took another step forward, the targeting beam shining right in her face. A loud humming filled the deck.
“Kill me if you want, we’re all going to be dead in a minute anyway, so fire away or get that tentacle, or whatever the hell it is, out of my face.”
And, to her surprise, it did.
She took one tentative step after another until she was beside it. It rippled with power, radiated energy. Ivanova had some small telepathic ability, and in the back of her mind a part of her was screaming, yelling at her to turn and run. But she was Susan Ivanova. She was Russian.
She did not give in to fear. Slowly, she placed her hand upon its surface, which was surprisingly warm.
“You know what I want,” she said. “I know you hate anything
touched by the Shadows and out there are two Shadow tech enabled
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ships. Help us destroy them. You’ve been caged up here. I bet you’re itching for a fight.”
Susan could feel its resistance. Then she realized she could sense its thoughts. It was like looking at a deep, fast-running river. She was human; she was nothing. It had stopped her transmission to punish them.
“To punish us? For what?”
Images flashed across the surface of her mind. At first she saw John, except it wasn’t just John. In the mind of the Vorlon ship, John occupied the same space as the first of the First Ones – Lorien. When John had used the Vorlon ship to purge the Shadow tech from Titans, he hadn’t simply asked it, he had compelled it. It was trapped, unable to resist his command. She got the sense it wanted to die but couldn’t kill itself, that was forbidden. The Shadow tech destroyers could though. Since it had been on board Titans they were the only enemy they’d come across powerful enough to do the job. Susan realized then that John hadn’t got it quite right. It wasn’t bored, it was in deep despair, it was suicidal.
The Vorlons had gone away. It was the last of its kind left in the galaxy.
“You want to die and take us with you? You’re the last Vorlon
thing left this side of the galactic rim and this is how you honor the memory of your kind? By killing yourself, by letting Shadow tech ships humble you?”
It quivered beneath her touch and radiated a sudden, intense heat.
Susan had to pull her hand away quickly to avoid being burned. She was satisfied she’d hit a nerve. She knew it wouldn’t be hard, the ship’s master was a Vorlon fundamentalist named Ulkesh. It’d been easily provoked too. Killing that Vorlon had been a pain in the ass and Ivanova knew she’d have to tread carefully, she didn’t want to have to go through that again with this ship. She tentatively put her hand back on the ship and was relieved to find the surface had cooled. “You’re compelled to stay where John put you but what exactly are your limitations?” Ivanova asked. “Do you have to stay here? In this exact spot?” Another ripple of feelings and images hit her. At first she saw Titans, and then the form of a person, overlaid on top of it. She tried her best to clear her mind, to identify the person, and was surprised to see herself. To the ship there
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was no difference between Ivanova and Titans. They were as one and it was bound to serve.
“You’ll stand with us and continue the Vorlon mission,” Ivanova
said. “You can eliminate the last influence of the Shadows and after that you can go wherever you wish. I’ll set you free.”
She felt its acquiescence, a reluctant agreement.
“But on one condition. I want to pilot you. I want to see it done right. You’re on your own in a hostile galaxy. You’ve got to pick a side.
You don’t get to hate everything because it’s not Vorlon.”
The walls of the deck echoed the ship’s scream of denial.
“It’s my way or the highway and the highway’s going straight to hell in less than a minute.”
Another blast struck Titans, nearly knocking Susan from her feet.
“You want to die a coward’s death?” she yelled at the ship. “Have that go down as the last thing a Vorlon did in our galaxy?”
There was no reply. The pulsating red light stopped suddenly and Ivanova was left standing in absolute darkness. She tapped the link on the back of her hand.
“Berensen?”
“Star Furies are all down, sir. One more hit and we’re done. What are your orders?”
What could she say? They
were sitting ducks and their last hope
had just done the Vorlon equivalent of slamming a door in her face.
And then there was light. A shimmering portal appeared, radiating red-tinged light.
“Thank you,” she whispered beneath her breath.
“Sir?” Berensen’s voice squawked from the link.
“Open up the flight bay, don’t bother with the airlock. I’m about to show whoever’s on those ships that they’ve just made the biggest mistake of their lives.”
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TWO
Susan Ivanova fell upon the two massive destroyers like a hawk
upon its prey.
The moment she’d entered the ship it had been like walking into
a dream—two dreams in fact, running simultaneously. In one she was flying through the air, completely supported on all sides by a great cloud of light. In the other dream she was back behind the controls of her favorite Star Fury, the first one she’d piloted on Babylon 5. That fighter had been like a second skin, she’d felt completely confident when she was strapped into it, and when it was destroyed she’d felt like she’d lost a limb. The two dreams overlapped effortlessly; being inside the Vorlon craft made that way of looking at things seem perfectly natural.
“Hold onto your encounter suit,” Ivanova said. “I’m about to see what you can really do.”
The Ivanova in the bright cloud dream saw thin white threads appear and start to move into her body—the ends of the strands pressing in through the pores of her skin. The more threads that entered her, the stronger the connection she felt with the ship. The strands turned red, one by one, until she realized she wasn’t actually surrounded by a cloud at all, but floating in a cocoon made up of millions of fibers.
The vague awareness she had of the Vorlon ship’s feelings was now transformed into a powerful tide of emotion. Heartache, loneliness, anger, resentment. Ivanova saw now why the ship had agreed to let her pilot it. It needed what it had received from its previous, Vorlon master—a mind to direct and focus its power.
She could feel the ship’s anger—over its forced service on Titans, towards the Shadow tech vessels, its fury at being left behind when the others of its kind had moved on—and she channeled those feelings, reminding the vessel of its duty. It was of the Vorlon and these vessels containing Shadow technology were an obscenity. One word entered her mind, forming clearly like a ringing bell— impure—the greatest
Babylon 5: Red Fury Page 2