Minerva frowned. "I have delivered the message as I was asked. I have nothing more to tell you. And you should be careful on your way back to your ship – there are many in this port who would do you harm. I suggest you leave by the back door.”
Hecate sat in thought for a moment, then rose from her chair. "Thank you, Minerva Mistress. I will take your message to heart."
Turning to Andrea, she touched her elbow. "Let's go."
But as they headed for the door, Hecate heard Minerva's last whisper: "Surely, you do look like him."
Nemesis
There is no avoiding war; it can only be postponed to the advantage of others.
- Niccolo Machiavelli
Beehive Cluster - Planet Marinas
12 April 2185
Slipping out the back door of the bar, Hecate and Andrea headed back to the ship, keeping a wary eye out for trouble. As they entered the port area, Andrea turned towards Hecate. "What the hell was that all about? How could your Grandfather still be alive?"
"I don't know," replied Hecate. "My mother Deinomache always told me he was exiled to Barcam after my mother was born - and died there the following year."
"But why was he exiled?" asked Andrea, walking beside her.
"He was not of the Blood," said Hecate. "He could not remain on Aeolis. As soon as my mother Deinomache was born, he was sent into exile. He was from Barcam, so that is where he was returned. He was reported killed in the Rebellion when the fleet bombarded Barcam."
Andrea mused on that information. "So, he could not be alive now to give you a message."
Hecate paused for a bit before replying. "There was a rumor, which was always denied by my Auntie...that he survived."
Andrea nodded. "But why would Auntie Empress deny it, if he was still alive?"
Hecate grimaced. "You don't know my Auntie. She would stonewall on something like that forever, before she would admit that a commoner who fathered a child on an Imperial Princess still lived and breathed somewhere at the end of the Empire."
Andrea thought on this for a while. "So... he could be alive yet. But he would be, what...at least 70 or 80 years old."
"I guess anything is possible."
They walked for a while. Finally, Hecate said, "You didn't ask about the other."
"What?"
"I heard you gasp when Minerva mentioned that he came from someplace far away. So I guess you've heard that rumor also."
Andrea snorted. "That he was an Earther? More nonsense from the Earther Cults?"
"Careful, Andrea. My father died trying to prove the existence of the Earthers." But Hecate had a smile on her face as she said it. She knew Andrea would always be her staunchest ally, regardless of her outspoken nature.
"I just meant...well, I know that your Father was a believer in the Earther legends, and he was chasing after that Black Ship trying to prove something about them. I don't know what in hell he thought he could prove. And I wouldn't say anything bad about him, you know that. But nobody puts much stock in that silly rumor...that your grandfather was an Earther, I mean."
Hecate nodded. "I never did before..." But her voice trailed off, and she walked lost in thought the rest of the way to the shuttle. She never noticed the quiet little man following them, his comm bead flashing briefly from time to time.
Aboard ship, Hecate gave orders to prep the ship for departure as soon as supplies were loaded, and the crew returned from shore leave. Then she asked Andrea to accompany her to her quarters. Sitting at her desk, she motioned Andrea to a chair and said, "I want to watch it again."
Andrea sighed. "Hecate..."
"I know, I know," said Hecate.
Andrea shook her head. "It hurts you so. I can't stand to see you in such pain.
"It's OK," said Hecate. "Something is still bothering me. And now I keep thinking about what Minerva said."
"What do you mean?" asked Andrea.
" 'Take care that it’s the true enemy and not a true friend.' I want to see it again."
"Oh, Hecate..." said Andrea.
Hecate spoke: "Sensorium, activate."
"Show us the record from my father's last mission." she ordered.
The room disappeared around her and Andrea. Once again, as several times before, they found themselves on the bridge of her father's ship just before it was destroyed. She had re-lived this scenario many times since her father's death, and each time it cut her more. But something was nagging at her now.
The sensorium was as real as if they were there. She saw the bridge, with the Captain and her father seated behind the holotank, and the consoles arranged around it. She saw the Black Ship in the holotank, running hard away from her father’s research vessel, pulling away - it was faster. It was clearly headed for empty space away from the star, so it could hit FTL and be gone.
"They're still accelerating," said the Captain. "Hail them again."
"Aye, sir." said the Comm Officer. She touched her screen and spoke.
"Unknown ship near Ptolema, please talk to us. We will not harm you; we only wish to speak with you. We are a research vessel, not a warship. We only wish to communicate with you."
They paused, watching. There was no change in aspect. The black ship continued to run.
The Captain spoke again: "No chance of catching them, Tac?"
"No, Mum. They are quite a bit faster than us in 3-space. They mean to make the mass limit and sink out."
"Yes," said Prince Alexander. "But why? Why won't they talk to us?"
"Sir, I've never seen a ship like that. Nothing in the Empire looks like that," said the Captain. "But we'll never catch her."
The Tactical Officer suddenly jumped in her seat. "Aspect change! Mum! She's coming about!"
"What?" asked the Captain. "Why?"
In the holotank, the black ship ceased acceleration and spun back toward them. As her nose came around to bear, pale blue fire came from a beamer. There was a flash - and the bridge disappeared in fire and screaming.
Hecate bowed her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. Andrea came over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Hecate placed her own fingers on top of Andrea's for a few seconds, but then took them away, straightened her head and dabbed at her eyes.
"I'm OK," she said. "I'm OK."
"Did you see anything different this time?" asked Andrea bitterly.
"No." said Hecate. "It's always the same." She hesitated. "But...there's something."
"What?" said Andrea.
"I don't know. I can't put my finger on it. But it has something to do with the beamer fire..."
"What about it?" asked Andrea.
"The beamer from the Black Ship. It almost looks like they fired before they were fully around."
"Agreed," said Andrea. "We've talked about this."
"Bear with me," said Hecate. "They fired early. Clearly, they have good tech - their frigate was faster than a corvette - but still they fired early. Why?
"Again, agreed," said Andrea. "But still, they hit the corvette and destroyed it.”
Hecate nodded. "OK. But that weapon looks awfully like the beam weapons used in our frigates and cruisers. Slightly different pulse components, but essentially the same technology."
"Yep," said Andrea.
Hecate: "And our beam weapons are phenomenally accurate at that range, but they have a pretty tight beam. You have to be right on target. If that weapon is basically similar to our beams, I'm just not sure she had enough bearing on target to hit the corvette."
"So they have more spread than we do." said Andrea. "We've talked about this."
Hecate thought. "And the other thing that bothers me is they had just passed that little moon off to the left." She stopped.
Andrea nodded.
"It almost looks like they were firing toward the moon, not the corvette."
Andrea shook her head. "And why would they do that?"
Hecate mused. "Because there was another ship there?"
>
Andrea grimaced. "They shot at another ship? But then..."
Hecate looked at her. "Then the other ship killed my father."
"Hecate, we can't know that. Every indication we have is that the Black Ship was shooting at the corvette. We have to act on that assumption. If we find that ship, we have to treat it as an enemy."
Hecate nodded. "OK, I get that. But...if we find it...I don't want to shoot first and ask questions later. I want to at least give them a chance to talk to us."
"Dangerous," said Andrea. "Not by the book. You're either going to get us shot up, killed or court-martialed."
Hecate smiled. "Just let me handle the court-martial part. And you handle the part about not getting us shot up or killed."
550 Light Years from Earth, Toward the Pipe Nebula
Planet Haven
"Ready to depart the planet, sir," said the Pilot.
"Good," said Cassian. "Cabin's ready, everybody strapped in. Let's go." He settled deeper into the jump seat and tugged his belts tighter, anticipating a rough ride out of the atmosphere.
The Matador groaned a bit as it lifted from the soil and slowly began moving upward, not really designed for the work it was doing. After a dozen minutes, they began to reach thinner air and the corvette accelerated, breaking out into space a minute later.
"Contact!" yelled the CoPilot. "Bat destroyer, coming around the planet!"
"Dammit!" cursed Cassian. "Get us out of here, guys!"
The Pilot slammed the throttles forward past the emergency stop and the Matador jumped like a racehorse, slamming Cassian back into the jump seat and banging his head against a fire extinguisher mounted on the back wall of the cockpit. He saw stars but managed to stay conscious.
"Go, go, go!" he shouted, as a beamer blast zipped by the cockpit, not more than fifty meters away. He could feel the heat from it. The pilot juked, and Cassian was once more slammed against the back of the cockpit. As everything went black, he could only think, "We came so close. We came so close."
***
Slowly, his awareness returned. Cassian realized he was still strapped into the jump seat. Something was dripping down his face and eye. He touched it and realized it was blood, mostly congealed. He tried to pull the mess away but was not very successful.
"What happened?" he mumbled.
The Pilot turned and looked at him. "Back with us, eh?" He turned in his seat and took a cloth from his flight jacket, dabbing at Cassian's eyes until the cloth was red with blood - but at least Cassian could see again.
Cassian managed to lift himself and look around. Outside the cockpit, he could see the fuzzy black nothingness of six-space and knew they had sunk out and were running. "Where are we?" he asked.
The Pilot nodded, "We're on a random vector. I couldn't take us to the system we planned, the destroyer was right on our tail, and he saw our vector when we came out of atmosphere. That was my mistake, I should have come out on a random vector, but I didn't think that far ahead. Anyway, I did a couple of random jukes, put the planet in between us, and ran for the mass limit. By the time they came around the planet and got on our tail again, we were out of their beamer range. They shot four missiles at us, but I managed to dodge them. As soon as we hit the mass limit, I sank out, then ran for a bit, surfaced, took a random vector, and sank out again. I had to do it several times before we finally lost them."
Cassian held the cloth against his head, staunching the blood. "So where are we headed?"
The Pilot shook his head. "Nowhere. They'll be searching all the nearby F, G, K, M type stars looking for us. I had to take a vector to the most unlikely place possible to lose them. I just picked a random A-type, a system not likely to have any habitable planets. I thought that might work to lose them. Maybe we can find a moon on a gas giant there with some atmosphere. If not, I think we'll have to try to sneak back to the planet we just left, but they'll be watching there for sure. We don't have a lot of options."
Cassian's head thudded from an enormous headache. "What's the chances of finding a moon with an atmosphere in an A-type system?"
The Pilot looked at the Copilot grimly. "Not worth a damn, sir. Not worth a damn."
Cassian sighed. "Do we have enough consumables to make it there and then back here?"
"Just barely," said the Pilot.
"OK, we'll go take a look," said Cassian. "When we get there, we'll survey the area for any other systems we can reach which might have a habitable planet. If none are within our range, we'll come back here and try to sneak in long enough to re-supply."
"Sir, I think you should go clean up, take care of that head wound," said the Pilot. "Nothing is going to happen for a long while now."
"Roger that," said Cassian. Slowly he got up from his seat and went back to the cabin.
***
Later, Cassian lay sleeping on the floor of the corvette. Young Vitus had somehow found him a few rags for a pillow. In his dreams, Cassian saw the Bat assault craft at the Science Hall, firing their cannons into the building. He saw his squadron cut down, ships crashing to the ground and exploding, as they bought him time to get these precious scientists away. He trembled in his sleep. Vitus lay down beside him and reached over and placed his arm around the sleeping officer. Together they slept fitfully, in dreams of their own.
***
"Roger," said Cassian. They had been traveling for two weeks. He was leaning over the pilots, staring at the holotank. They had surfaced just outside the mass limit of a large A-type star and were accelerating inward at an economical 75g. Soon the sensors started to clarify the layout of the system.
"One...gas giant," said the Copilot. "...there's another...nothing in the hab zone, as we expected... That's it."
"OK, we know where we need to go. How long to get to the first gas giant and check out the moons?" asked Cassian.
"About thirteen hours, sir," said the Copilot.
"Awesome," said Cassian. "I'll tell the folks."
Walking back into the crew bay, Cassian told the waiting civilians about the system. "Let me emphasize to you all, there is no way to tell at this distance what we will find. You should all plan to be disappointed, and if it turns out better than that, then, well, that's gravy."
Cassian turned and resumed his sitting position on the floor of the crew bay, as he had spent the last two weeks when he wasn't up pacing around or doing exercise in the limited space in the engine room. A few minutes later, he was just about to doze off when the Copilot came back and touched his shoulder.
"Sir?"
Cassian snapped awake. "Yes?"
"Sir, better come up front."
Cassian glanced up at him. His face showed a worried look.
"OK," he grunted, and unfolding once again from the deck, walked stiffly down the passageway to the cockpit again.
When he got there, the Copilot resumed his seat, while the Pilot turned to him.
"We've got company, sir." he said, as Cassian sat down in the jump seat.
"What?"
"Two rather large ships. Right behind us."
Cassian focused on the holo. Sure enough, there were two ships running close behind them, not more than a hundred klicks in trail. The sensors rendered the ships as black wedges. They were easily ten times the size of the corvette.
"Are they broadcasting?"
"No, sir," said the Pilot. "We haven't tried contact yet."
Cassian thought hard. "Those are not Bat ships."
"No, sir," said the Pilot. "No, sir, they are not."
"If they wanted to harm us, they would have already..." Cassian continued.
He glanced at the Pilot. "...and I doubt very seriously if we could out-run them."
The Pilot nodded. Cassian gestured with his hand. "Stop all accel."
Reaching for the controls, the Pilot pulled the throttles. The black ships matched them, staying exactly in place. The three ships coasted through space in formation.
"Now what," thought Cassian. He waved a hand at the Pi
lot. "Send a contact signal."
"Contact signal?" The Copilot looked puzzled. "What does that mean?"
Cassian sighed. "I don't know. Try...ah...try the first one hundred prime numbers."
***
Three hours later, Cassian grunted in frustration. All their attempts to communicate with the two black, wedge-shaped ships following them had come to naught. The two ships simply hung in space, one on either side of their rear, in perfect firing position. Cassian and the pilots had started by transmitting the first one hundred prime numbers, then moved on to simple words and sentences, trying to elicit any kind of response from the others. Finally, in frustration, he had ordered the Pilot to just start transmitting historical videos. Either the ships did not receive their signals, did not understand them, or simply did not want to talk. Now, after hours of trying, he was at his wit's end.
"I'm going to go out there," he said.
"Sir? No, sir! Don't do it!" said the Copilot.
"Have to," said Cassian. "We have to get this resolved."
Cassian stepped back into the main cabin and pulled a spacesuit out of a locker. He started putting it on when the Pilot stuck his head through the bridge hatchway.
"Sir...they've responded."
Cassian, stunned, dropped the spacesuit on the floor and ran back to the bridge. The video screen between the Pilot and CoPilot had come to life. It showed a creature from the other ships. The creature had the same general physical arrangement as his own people - a similar head, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, neck...and what he could see of the upper body looked similar. It seemed to be taller, larger overall, but not that different from him. And it wasn’t a Bat!
The creature looked at him out of the video and smiled - a gesture Cassian recognized, as it was like that of his own people. It spoke in a strange language, then paused.
"Hello, Daneki corvette," said an artificial voice, clearly an AI, in passable Daneki. "Sorry for the delay. It took our AI a while to parse your language. You appear to have come a long way. Can we talk?"
***
Many hours later, Cassian sat across from the alien creature, which called itself 'human'. The human AI had translated that into Daneki with words that came out as 'monkey men', which Cassian thought was hilarious. He bit his tongue to hide his smile, thinking about the little monkey creatures of his home planet. Clearly their AI had not yet fully mastered his language. They had exchanged data to determine that human environmental conditions were adequate to support Daneki life; biological tests showed that pathogens were unlikely to be an issue between the two life forms, at least in the short term; with that information in hand, Cassian had consented to journey over to the human ship for a conference.
Imprint of War Page 3