God Ship (Obsidiar Fleet Book 3)

by Anthony James

  “What’s wrong? And where is the Sciontrar?” asked Blake.

  “The Ghasts are eighteen thousand klicks to starboard, sir.”

  Without warning, the Abyss’s forward movement dropped to zero. There was no period of deceleration, the warship simply stopped. The life support systems were designed to cope with near-instant acceleration to lightspeed and their support field prevented all biological matter on the heavy cruiser being reduced to a microscopically-thin layer of sludge across the bulkhead walls.

  “We’re being held,” said Quinn.

  “By what?”

  “I have no idea, sir.”

  Blake cast his eyes frantically across his console – the Gallenium engines were offering 99.99% of their theoretical maximum output and the Obsidiar core was still online. He rammed the left control bar forward. The Abyss’s walls ground out a deep, grating vibration so low it made Blake’s jaw ache. Still he tried and the gravity engines strained against a much, much greater force.

  “Keep firing!” he ordered.

  “We can’t see it to target!” said Hawkins.

  “I think I’ve got a ping off it,” said Pointer. Her next words were choked out through the shock. “I have no idea what we’ve found, sir.”

  With its prey caught, Ix-Gorghal dropped its sensor-deflecting shroud and appeared before them. The crew on the Abyss were dumbfounded and not one of them was able to find their tongue in order to put words to the sight before them.

  It was Blake who broke the collective trance. He opened his mouth and swore loudly.

  It was late evening, though Fleet Admiral Duggan had many tasks to finish before he could contemplate sleep. With the Confederation spread over so many worlds, it was always daytime somewhere and while it was joked that members of the Council enjoyed a three-hour working day, the reality was that many of them worked hours as long as anyone. In general, the more important a person’s job, the harder it was for them to find time for bed.

  Duggan yawned and signed off a few orders for new warship parts, as well as giving his approval for work to begin on three new Hadrons. Cerys had been quiet for the last hour, and the computer’s voice gave him a start.

  “Fleet Admiral Duggan, I have a request from Research Leader Joel Breeze. He would like to speak with you.”

  Duggan frowned. “Is it urgent or can it wait until morning?”

  There was a pause while Cerys obtained a response. “At first he said it is urgent and then he corrected himself and said it might be urgent.”

  “Bring him through.”

  The voice of Joel Breeze came from the room’s speakers and he sounded uncertain, worried and outright scared. “Good evening, sir.”

  “It’s quite late, Joel. What can I do for you?”

  “Apologies for the late hour. I found something which I thought you ought to know.”

  Duggan had a certain prescience, though he tried to deny it. He felt the skin tightening across his chest. “What have you found?”

  “Do you remember when I said we had to play around with the figures in order to get the energy readings from the Vraxar wormhole to match up with our own readings for the ESS Crimson and the Helius Blackstar?”

  “I remember.”

  “And we increased our estimate of Ix-Gorghal’s size until we found something which fit.”

  “Fifty thousand metres, plus or minus three percent.”

  “Yes. There might be a problem, sir. We stopped at fifty thousand, thinking that was the only answer. I’ve taken another look at the figures and while fifty thousand metres remains correct, there’s another number which also fits. In fact, it fits a lot better. After that, there are no other numbers which fit the equation, no matter how high you go.”

  “How big?”

  “Well, if we ignore some of the inaccuracies in the…”

  “How big?”

  “Six hundred kilometres, sir.”

  Duggan bowed his head. “You’re telling me Ix-Gorghal could be six hundred kilometres long?”

  “Yes, sir, and with a colossal volume.”

  “And there’s no error?”

  “No, sir. Those are the two numbers which fit.”

  “Thank you, RL Breeze. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, sir.”

  Duggan wished more than anything he hadn’t received this late-night call. There was nothing he could do to change the fact and there was no time to think of the ramifications.

  “Cerys, please get me through to Captain Blake on the ES Abyss. Priority 1 message.”

  “There is no response from the ES Abyss, Fleet Admiral. They sent a message to command and control several minutes ago, informing us they were about to engage with a Vraxar Neutraliser and have detected no sign of Ix-Gorghal.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I judged your conversation with RL Breeze to be of equal importance.”

  “Try the Abyss again.”

  “Still no response.”

  Duggan put his head in his hands and wondered what to do.

  Chapter Twenty

  “That’s what we face,” said Blake.

  “There’s no way we’re going to take that down,” said Hawkins.

  “Ix-Gorghal. No wonder the Estral lost their war.”

  “Still want me to launch those weapons, sir?”

  “Hold for the moment.”

  The enormous craft was clad in the Vraxar’s near-black alloy and measured slightly more than six hundred kilometres on its longest axis. Its vertical axis extended for three hundred kilometres at the front-centre part of the vessel. The Sciontrar and ES Abyss looked like insignificant specks of crude metal in comparison, pinned in place like insects.

  Ix-Gorghal’s ovoid form was covered in huge metal constructions of countless different shapes. There were towers, antennae arrays and squat domes forty kilometres or more in diameter. Blake found his eyes drawn to other places – elaborate, ugly and angular outcroppings of metal which were surely intended for destructive purposes. It was terrible and it had come to render humanity and Ghasts extinct.

  “Why haven’t they killed us?”

  “I don’t know. Speak to the Sciontrar and see what they’re planning.”

  “There’s something blocking our signal, sir. I imagine the Ghasts are unable to reach us for the same reason.”

  “Lieutenant Quinn, I would like you to find out what they are using to keep us in place and figure out a way we can escape.”

  “I’m trying, sir. It’s something new.”

  “It’s always something new. Work out what it is and tell me how to beat it.”

  “They are projecting some kind of stasis beam from that tower towards the front,” said Quinn. “It’s holding us and the Sciontrar.”

  “Any indication if it’s feeling the strain or is it coasting?”

  “I don’t know, sir. Look at the size of the parent vessel – I bet it could hold a hundred warships in place.”

  Minutes went by, with Blake becoming increasingly concerned about what the Vraxar intended. He was tempted to start firing missiles, but he’d already witnessed Ix-Gorghal soak up a thousand plasma warheads without apparent strain and he was sure any offensive act would result in swift and terminal retribution.

  A surprise was in store.

  “Sir, there’s an inbound comms request. It’s coming from the enemy ship.”

  “Who is it?”

  “There is no introduction.”

  “Make the connection.”

  The comms link was established. It hummed and droned with background noise, even though the distance between the two ships wasn’t enormous.

  “I am Captain Charlie Blake of the Space Corps ship ES Abyss. Who is this?” asked Blake, fumbling for what to say. There seemed little point asking the Vraxar why they’d chosen to capture the two warships. There was no answer for a short time and Blake repeated the words.

  When the response came, the words were delivered by a voice that was power
ful and undeniably ancient, as though the speaker had seen the birth of stars. The tones rumbled with the allure of an orator inviting an audience to eat meat laced with poison.

  “My name is Tassin-Dak and I command Ix-Gorghal.”

  “What do you want from us, Tassin-Dak?”

  The question generated an angry response. “Do not speak my name, human! It is not a privilege I have granted you.”

  Blake bit his tongue, wishing he could tell this Vraxar where he could stick his privilege and his enormous spaceship. Discretion seemed advisable. “What do you want from us?” he repeated.

  “Our hunger grows and we must embrace new life forms. We do not have forever to search and each new species we find seems more ungrateful than the one preceding it. Nevertheless, I am here to welcome new children, whatever the tribulations. I see we have discovered a place where humans and near-Estral are in harmony.” The Vraxar laughed nastily. “It will bring me great happiness to expunge the remaining Estral filth.”

  “You do not require more Estral?”

  “Our ranks are bursting with their numbers, bringing imbalance to the Vraxar. I have with me in excess of one billion converted Estral and I will be sure to spend them without consideration. Those on Ix-Gorghal are only a fraction of the total.”

  “We call these Estral by a different name. We call them Ghasts.”

  “Call them what you will. We have no more need of their flesh and we will eliminate them.”

  “Why will you eliminate them if you have no need of them?” asked Blake. He was certain Tassin-Dak was from the original species which had become Vraxar and was therefore likely to possess an invaluable insight into their motives and plans.

  “It will be a fitting punishment for their unwillingness to capitulate.”

  “How will you find them? How will you find the worlds belonging to the human Confederation?”

  “You will tell us, Captain Blake. And after you tell us, you will be converted to Vraxar.”

  “Why would I do that? What possible reason is there for me to voluntarily tell you where to find the Confederation’s worlds?”

  “It will not be voluntary. We have many different ways of finding out the truth. If we did not, how could we succeed in our goals?”

  “There aren’t many of us humans. Why make the effort? Why not go elsewhere and save us from having to destroy your precious Ix-Gorghal in the same way we destroyed your fleet?”

  Tassin-Dak didn’t provide an emotional reaction to the threat. “You destroyed a fraction of our spaceships and we will bring many more. Your Confederation is lucky to be in a place which provides a stepping stone to several, more populous, areas of this universe. We will pass through and we will take your bodies and your expertise. Eventually, we will move on and when we do, you will be part of us when we begin our assault on the Antaron. That will be a war to rival the one against the Estral.”

  A message appeared in the corner of one screen on Blake’s console and he glanced at it.

  Caz Pointer: We have established an ultra-low band connection to the Sciontrar. Shhhh!

  Blake tapped out a quick response, whilst at the same time speaking to Tassin-Dak. “How do you plan to get onboard in order to make me divulge the information you crave?”

  Charlie Blake: We need a plan. Find out what Nil-Tras is up to!

  Caz Pointer: Aye aye, Captain!

  The Vraxar responded, unaware Blake was juggling his attention between two conversations. “We have disabled your ability to escape. We will bring your spaceship into our hold and send our troops onboard.”

  “The ES Abyss is carrying an Obsidiar bomb,” Blake lied. “By all means, bring us into your hold. Perhaps I will detonate it anyway if you do not release us.”

  “Go ahead, Captain Blake. The loss of your warship’s memory arrays will slow us down and nothing more. I will, however advise you - even now, the near-Estral is bargaining for his life.”

  Caz Pointer: He’s lying about the Ghasts. The Vraxar have not spoken to anyone on the Sciontrar.

  Charlie Blake: Interesting.

  Blake wasn’t sure if Tassin-Dak was counter-bluffing by acting unconcerned about the possibility of the Abyss carrying an Obsidiar bomb. The thought that Ix-Gorghal’s energy shield was capable of withstanding the blast from such a bomb was something Blake did not wish to contemplate. The Vraxar talked with a high degree of intelligence, which meant he was probably capable of lies and deceit.

  “You already have the memory arrays from one of our ships. Why do you need those on the ES Abyss?”

  “The previously-captured arrays are on the smaller cargo vessel you were in the process of attacking. It would be destroyed if you detonated an Obsidiar bomb.”

  At that exact moment, the Vraxar cargo ship exited into lightspeed, vanishing from the Dranmir system. Blake muted the comms immediately.

  “Capture the details of its fission cloud. I want to find out where it’s gone.”

  “We’re too far away for comfort. The data might be patchy, sir,” said Quinn.

  “Do what you can.”

  He unmuted the comms and spoke to the Vraxar again.

  “You said we are a stepping stone,” said Blake, trying to buy some time as well as obtain information. “Your Neutralisers were destroyed when they summoned Ix-Gorghal. How do you plan to bring your ships into Confederation Space?”

  The Vraxar appeared content to talk. “The Ir-Klion are a makeshift solution. We will make a gate and our fleet will come through. I am sure this technology is beyond your species.”

  “How do you make a gate?”

  “Watch.”

  The connection went dead, leaving Blake asking himself if he’d done something wrong. The sensor feed of Ix-Gorghal remained as it was, unchanging except for the slow passage of the Vraxar vessel as it flew leisurely above Dranmir, bringing the Sciontrar and Abyss with it. Blake did his best to make efficient use of the time.

  “Tassin-Dak has yet to admit it, but we’re at a stalemate,” he said. “He will not attempt to bring us within his shield now that he thinks there’s a chance we’re equipped with an Obsidiar bomb.”

  “I wonder why he’s not scared of us launching our missiles within his shield,” said Hawkins.

  “They must have a way to counter them, or they’re just willing to take a few hits in order to accomplish their aims.”

  “Or they can make a shield funnel,” said Quinn. “And draw us in through that.”

  “The specifics don’t matter. What’s important is their reluctance to bring the Abyss into their hold. Tassin-Dak has just revealed that the ES Determinant’s arrays are intact and in the Vraxar’s possession. That means they haven’t cracked them open yet. It also means the only way they can speed up the process of finding our worlds is by getting us to volunteer the information.”

  “Which we aren’t going to do,” said Pointer.

  “No. He’ll likely try to persuade us. After that...”

  “Boom!” said Hawkins. “He’ll order our destruction.”

  “They don’t seem too interested in the Sciontrar,” said Cruz.

  “It sounds like they’ve had enough of the Estral,” Blake replied. “It’s clouding their judgement.”

  “I doubt the Ghasts are any more willing to talk than we are,” said Cruz.

  Blake had a thought. “Where the hell is the Kalon-T7?”

  There wasn’t time to find an answer to the question.

  “Look!” said Pointer, her finger aimed directly towards the bulkhead screen.

  A set of hangar doors started to open on the side of Ix-Gorghal. The gap appeared small against the flank of the Vraxar ship, but Blake guessed the doors were in the region of ten thousand metres wide. The upper and lower doors vanished into recesses in the armoured walls, revealing green light within. There was no angle for Blake to see directly into the interior of the enemy ship and he tilted his head to one side, as though he could somehow improve his view by doing so.


  “There’s something coming out,” said Hawkins.

  The vessel which emerged was plain in appearance – it was a polished, featureless, perfect sphere of black alloy. It came out of the hangar rapidly, as though it was in a hurry to complete whatever mission it had been given.

  “What is that?” asked Ensign Park.

  “We probably don’t want to find out,” said Hawkins.

  The new vessel maintained a parallel course to Ix-Gorghal for a short period and then it accelerated so rapidly it appeared for a moment as if it had gone to lightspeed.

  “Got it!” said Cruz, focusing one of the sensors on the rapidly-diminishing spaceship. “It’s moving fast.”

  “Warming up for a jump,” said Quinn.

  The spherical vessel went into lightspeed, leaving the invisible plume from its deep fission engine across a huge patch of space.

  “Get a recording of that one as well!” shouted Blake.

  “Already on with it, sir,” said Quinn. “We’ve got a much better view of that cloud.”

  “Enough to find out where it’s gone?”

  “Given time and assuming we aren’t hit by a disintegration cannon in the next two minutes.”

  As if responding to a prompt, Tassin-Dak returned to the comms. “The Gate Maker knows a suitable location to build its portal. Once complete, this area of space will become home to much of the Vraxar fleet.”

  “How does it work?”

  Captain Blake: Ask Nil-Tras to launch his anti-shield incendiaries at Ix-Gorghal.

  “How it functions is not important.” The Vraxar’s voice made it clear he was no longer interested in indulging his children. “You have likely already guessed that we have no easy way to entice you from your ship in order that I might extract information from you.”

  Caz Pointer: Nil-Tras says the weapon takes too long to charge – the Vraxar will detect the build-up.

  Charlie Blake: We need a diversion. Where is the Kalon-T7?

  Caz Pointer: Its coming. Nil-Tras suggests we stay on our toes.

  “I couldn’t tell you the details from the top of my head anyway, Tassin-Dak, my rotting friend,” said Blake, deliberately using the Vraxar’s name. “What are you going to do about it?”