It Ain't Over... (Cole & Srexx Book 1)

by Robert M Kerns

  Cole zoomed in on Tristan’s Gate and the surrounding hundred lightyears. He highlighted Zurich, which was both 37º from spin-ward and 55º from rim-ward from Tristan’s Gate, about 60 lightyears away…right in the center of unclaimed/unaligned space. Beta Magellan was about thirty lightyears almost due core-ward from Zurich, which also put it about 18º off spin-ward from Tristan’s Gate and about 87º off due core-ward. If Tristan’s Gate served as the anti-spin-ward corner of Aurelian Commonwealth space toward the galactic rim, Beta Magellan served as the spin-ward corner toward the rim…and just fifty-eight lightyears from Tristan’s Gate, too. Due to the vagaries of galactic drift and composition, only one system was close enough to Beta Magellan for jump gates, such cases being called ‘stub systems;’ that might change in a few thousand years, but if it did, Cole was certain he’d no longer care.

  An idea was taking root in Cole’s mind, and he closed the navigational database, opening instead the protected archive to which Srexx had newly given him access. He brought up the archive in graphical form as well and wasn’t all that surprised to find it used an almost-beautiful cataloging system. The archive’s name was ‘Stellar Constructs.’

  Opening the archive, Cole saw a rather impressive list of subcategories. Stations, Construction Facilities, Starships, and Small Craft were just four of many. On a whim, Cole opened the Stations categories and found four child categories there: Residential, Commercial, Defensive, and Hybrid. Cole moved to access the Defensive category but stopped himself.

  Cole went back to the root archive and opened the Starships category, and once again, he saw a few child categories: Exploration/Research, Commercial, Defensive, and Materials Gathering. Cole selected that Defensive category, and the display re-arranged itself into an almost-pyramidal display. Cole felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he stared at the top tier of the display, the tier right above Battle-Carrier: Dreadnought. Almost against his will, Cole selected it.

  The pyramid minimized to the bottom-left corner of the holographic display, and Cole stared at a one-one-thousandth-scale image of a monster that filled him with dread. A data block appeared in the top-right corner, and Cole took a deep breath as he read over it before returning his focus to the image rotating in front of him.

  Twelve hundred meters long and just over three hundred meters at the beam, the Class I Dreadnought possessed forty-five decks. It supported over five times the weaponry of its predecessor, the Battle-Carrier, and over twenty times its predecessor’s capacity for small craft (i.e. fighters, bombers, dropships, etc.). Like the Battle-Carrier, the Dreadnought also allowed for embarked ground troops. Its five decks dedicated to ground troops permitted the embarkation of almost fifty thousand soldiers, plus equipment, vehicles, and maintenance gear.

  “Srexx?”

  “Yes, Cole?”

  “Srexx, I’m looking at the schematic archive you gave me access to, and…well…what can you tell me about the Dreadnought?”

  Silence.

  “If you will note from the data block, these schematics are only Stage 3. My people used a six-stage design model for starship development, and I have no data on the successive three stages that would’ve finalized the design.”

  “Okay. So, this schematic is incomplete?”

  “Not entirely. Stage 1 is a theoretical design that should work, based on computer simulations. Stage 2 is a vetted design that has been through numerous committees and has been cleared to proceed to prototyping. Stage 3 is developed after what you would call a shakedown cruise and many trials and drills. The successive stages represent the progression to the final design that will remain unchanged for the life of the class, not accounting for technology upgrades.”

  “What was this monster’s role?”

  “It was intended to replace the Battle-Carrier as the central ship of a battlegroup. A battlegroup with this ship would have one Dreadnought, three to six battle-carriers, twelve to twenty-four cruisers of varying type—depending on the battlegroup’s mission—and more destroyers and frigates to serve as screening elements and scout vessels. That, of course, does not include the fleet tenders and colliers that would travel with the battlegroup.”

  Cole leaned back against his chair, staring at the hologram as he asked, “How many were in service the last you knew?”

  “At the time of my discovery and subsequent exile, my people operated four Class I Dreadnoughts.”

  Cole shook his head, nearing disbelief. “Wow. Thanks, Srexx.”

  “Of course, Cole.”

  Cole backed out of the Dreadnought schematic and accessed the Battle-Carrier schematic, finding it was not a schematic but another container. The Battle-Carrier category held six child categories: Class I Battle-Carrier, Class II Battle-Carrier, and so on up to a Class VI Battle-Carrier.

  Cole backed out of the Battle-Carrier category and the Defensive category. He was reaching to select ‘Construction Facilities’ on the top level of the archive when an alert popped up in the bottom-right corner of the display. It was a general traffic advisory from the station’s traffic control office and sent to all near-station vessels. Cole grabbed the alert and pulled it to the center of the display. The archive listing minimized to the bottom-left again, and Cole read about a shuttle barreling through near-station traffic at an insane velocity. Cole moved to shift the holographic display to display two areas, almost like the split-screen function of ancient operating systems. On the left side of the display, Cole had the ship’s computer show the sensor feed for the immediate vicinity, including the area the shuttle rocketed through; a tag expanded from the shuttle’s dot on the sensor display showing its transponder was broadcasting as ‘Yard Shuttle 3.’ On the right side of the display, Cole had the ship’s computer show all emergency traffic advisories related to the shuttle with an overall total at the top. By the time he had the display set up the way he wanted, the shuttle was already up to seven traffic advisories, and Cole watched the total jump to nine a few seconds later.

  Cole accessed his implant and, choosing ‘Communications,’ placed a call to Sasha over the ship’s systems.

  “Hi, Cole. What’s on your mind?”

  The number of emergency traffic advisories was now eleven as Cole leaned back in his chair and said, “What’s your location and status?”

  “Yeleth and I are just finishing up with the crew on the recreation deck. Why?”

  “You might want to find your sister and meet me in Pilot Country. There’s a shuttle from the shipyard heading our way like a bat out of hell. They’ve generated thirteen emergency traffic advisories so far. Nope…make that fourteen.”

  “Why would a shuttle being flying like that for us?”

  “Well,” Cole said, “I placed a call to the yard to make an appointment to speak with whom I’m guessing is your uncle, Sevrin Vance.”

  “Yeah, that’s Uncle Sev.”

  “An Emily Vance answered my call,” Cole continued, “and she seemed very interested that you asked me to tell your uncle hello. I think they’re coming to visit.”

  Cole could hear Sasha’s laughter over the speakers. “Yeah…now that you mention it, that piloting sounds like Emmy. She was always fascinated with old-time aerospace fighter jets and wished she could command her own fighter wing. She joined the Commonwealth Navy for a while to fly air support for ground forces, but she ended up coming home far sooner than I would’ve expected. Never got the whole story on that.”

  “Well, if you’d like to meet them on the flight deck, we have all of about eight or nine minutes to get there…but I want us in the Traffic Control overlook.”

  “Okay,” Sasha said. “I’ll call Talia, and we’ll meet you at the starboard transit shaft to the flight deck in Pilot Country.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Battle-Carrier Haven, Docking Slip 12

  Tristan’s Gate

  17 August 2999

  There were two ways to the Traffic Control space overlooking the flight deck. One involved a ladd
er from the actual flight deck secured inside an enclosure with a pressure-rated hatch. The other was a staircase and another sealable hatch from the deck Cole had called Pilot Country; Cole thought the staircase to be the obvious method for accessing the overlook for flight deck personnel.

  Cole, Sasha, Talia, Yeleth, and Wixil had just arrived in the Traffic Control room when the ship alerted Cole to a comms request. Cole had the ship route the call through the system where they were.

  The speakers chirped, indicating a call just connected.

  “This is Yard Shuttle 3, requesting permission to approach and land.”

  Cole smiled. “Yard Shuttle 3, this is Haven Control…Haven Actual speaking. You are granted permission to approach and land only on the condition you do not leave skid marks on my deck.”

  “Copy that, Haven. Slow-and-Boring coming up.”

  The speakers chirped again as the call disconnected, and they watched from the overlook as the shuttle coasted through the aft forcefield and into the hangar deck on momentum alone. When the shuttle was even with the overlook, it slowed to a stop and turned to face aft before setting down on the deck so soft no one felt or heard a thing. The shuttle’s landing struts had just touched the deck when the boarding ramp dropped.

  Sasha and Talia started to move, but Cole held them back.

  “Wait. Let them leave the shuttle. I want you to confirm they are your uncle and cousin.”

  “What if they’re not?” Talia asked.

  “I’ll kill the aft forcefields and vent the deck to space.”

  Talia blanched, and Sasha leaned close to the transparent barrier, focusing on the two people walking down the ramp. They came into view, and she grinned. “It’s them!”

  Cole let Sasha and Talia lead them out of the control room, and they all went down the ladder to meet the family.

  “Tali-girl,” Emily gasped, pulling Talia into her arms, “why are you so pale?”

  “He…he was going to space you if you weren’t who you said you were.”

  At hearing this, the man Sasha had identified as Uncle Sev turned a quizzical expression to Cole, and Cole nodded once. Sev stepped right past Sasha without even saying a word and extended his right hand to Cole.

  “Damn right, son,” Sev said, giving Cole a firm handshake. “Thank you for thinking of my nieces’ safety first. I’m Sev Vance.”

  “I’m Cole. It’s good to meet you.”

  Sev’s face took on a shrewd expression. “Cole, is it?”

  Cole shrugged as they ended the handshake. “Allow me to introduce Yeleth, the ship’s purser, and her young one, Wixil. They’ve assigned themselves as my security detail.”

  Sev and Emily both moved to greet the Ghrexels.

  Sasha and Talia walked over and appropriated Sev, leaving Emily in their wake. Cole smiled as he watched them. He knew how hard the last few months had been for them, not knowing their parents and brother lived or what conditions they faced if they did.

  “That was some impressive piloting,” Cole said, turning his attention to Emily and shaking her hand.

  “Thanks. The spacer community has enjoyed reading about the Lone Marine on Caledonia, and what information we got out of the new Commonwealth included high-res scans of the shuttle.” Emily jerked her head toward the troop shuttle, where it was anchored to the deck. “That it?”

  Cole nodded.

  “You didn’t do so bad yourself, then. Your weapons officer isn’t too shabby, either. That bombardment was almost epic. May I meet whoever it was?”

  “You already have.” Cole jerked his head toward the Sev-Sasha-Talia cluster and watched Emily do the math.

  “Sasha?” Emily hissed. “Sasha fired that bombardment?”

  Cole shrugged. “She had to. Every organic lifeform on the ship I trusted with bridge access is standing on this hangar deck right now.”

  Emily tore her eyes away from her father and cousins to stare at Cole. “Are you serious?”

  Cole nodded. “There was one other person I trust aboard, not counting the strays we rescued from an SDF/Commonwealth scuffle, but he isn’t that ambulatory…and he can’t engage the weapons. When we first arrived in Caledonia, it was just the five of us.”

  “Goodness! How are you keeping up with the maintenance?”

  Cole shook his head. “It’s a little better now, but basically, I’m not. I haven’t even asked Srexx to give me the maintenance queue yet. I’m almost afraid to look. What I need is a full crew. Srexx is conducting crash courses to get the people I have up to speed as soon as possible, but it’s not going to be fast. I don’t even want to know how many years—perhaps even millennia—of catch-up learning we have to do to maintain this ship.”

  Emily blinked. “Pardon me? I’m not sure I’m grasping what you said.”

  “Emily, I found this ship. It was a derelict, entombed inside an asteroid I’m told used to be part of a planet. The ship was built over thirty-five thousand years ago by a race called the Gyv’Rathi…and I really, really hope they’re not still around.”

  Emily turned in a slow 360-degree-circle, looking at the deck all around them. At last, she turned back to Cole. “You know, I don’t think you’re telling me one. It’s subtle, but this whole space is full of little things that don’t match with human-designed construction…plus, that aft forcefield is a major point in your favor. Not even the military tech I saw from the Solars is on par with that. Why don’t you hope they’re still around?”

  “Because I’ve seen schematics on their starships, and this one—while very good—is not the biggest and baddest they had. If I ever set foot on a Gyv’Rathi Dreadnought, I am very fervent in the hope that people I pay built it.”

  By that point, Sasha, Talia, and Sev were ready to move the party anywhere but the hangar deck. They turned as Cole and Emily rejoined them.

  “I would love to offer you the hospitality of our wardroom, but we’re still sorting out the crew roster and duty assignments. If there’s a place on the station that delivers, I’m happy to order in.”

  “Cole,” Sasha said, “would you mind if I invited more of my family over? I don’t think it’s a good idea to host an event off the ship, but I’d like to see as much of my mom’s family as I can while we’re here.”

  Cole chuckled. “You don’t need my permission, Sasha.”

  “I kind of do. It’s your ship.”

  Cole’s expression caused Emily, Sev, and Talia to erupt in laughter. Sasha almost did, too, but she put up a valiant fight and won, restraining herself to some giggles.

  “Okay. Yes. It is technically my ship, but I started thinking of you as one of my people a while back…even before you asked to be my first officer. You’re always welcome here, and this ship is your home as long as you need or want it to be. Invite whomever you want.” Cole fell silent for a moment. “What kind of food do you want?”

  Sasha looked from Emily, Sev, and Talia in turn before shrugging. “I’m not sure we’ve thought about it. We just know we’re hungry.”

  “Okay. Sev, I assume you know the eateries that cater on the station. Tell me which one would lay on the best spread for the kind of food your family prefers to eat at a reunion.”

  Sev was silent for a moment.

  “Oh…come on, Dad! Do you have to think about it?” Emily shook her head frowning. “Cole, you want O’Shaughnessy’s on U-Two. Tell ‘em it’s for Vance.”

  Cole shook his head. “I will do no such thing. Sasha, whoever you invite should not head this way until after the catering delivery team has arrived and left.”

  Cole accessed StationNet through his implant, deciding to do a name search instead of browsing the directory. He found O’Shaughnessy’s and instructed his implant to open a call and route it through ship’s system.

  In just a few moments, the speakers on the bulkhead above them chirped, and a woman said, “Thank you for calling O’Shaughnessy’s! How may I help you?”

  “Hi. I’m Cole, captain of the Haven docked in
Slip 12. I’m having a hiring fair aboard ship later today, and I’d like to order catering for five hundred…” Cole directed the question to his audience. Sasha, Emily, and Sev glanced at one another, and all three nodded. “…yes, five hundred.”

  “How would you like that arranged, sir?”

  “We have flatware and such, but our galley stocks are nil. As for the catering, let’s make it a buffet, and as far as the food goes, surprise me. We’ll also need an assortment of drinks, ranging from water and ice to a liquor or wine service. This is my first time in Tristan’s Gate, and your establishment came recommended.”

  “Very good, sir, and I’m glad you were sent our way. Do you mind if I asked who referred you to us?”

  “It was a sales associate from the shipyard. She gave me your name while I was placing an order for three shuttles. Oh, what was her name…Amelia, Emerald, Emily! That’s it. It was Emily Vance.”

  “Ah, yes. The Vance Clan and its extended branches have been very good customers across the years. We will express our gratitude for remembering us. Now, when does your event begin?”

  “Well, I’m familiar with the three axes of production: time, quality, and cost. I’ll sacrifice cost if I can get stupendous quality as soon as you can deliver it.”

  Silence.

  “Hmmm…yes…I believe we can accommodate you on those terms, sir. For an order of this size, we offer free delivery via cargo shuttle. Is this something you’re interested in?”

  “We have a hangar deck and freight lifts that run through all decks in the ship, but I’ll only agree to it on one condition.”

  “And what’s that, sir?”

  “Instead of free delivery, you charge me what would be the standard delivery and setup fee for a catering order this large and split that fee between the people who bring it aboard and set everything up…in addition to the full wages they would receive for the job.”