Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1

by Scott Bartlett

  “But that still leaves us at risk of more capacitors exploding, sir.”

  “It does. In case we fail to take out the missile with the secondaries, we’ll stand ready to discharge the primary and prepare for impact if necessary. It’s not ideal, but right now I don’t see a better tack.”

  Neither did the others, judging by their silence.

  Which Husher broke. “Why do we think the Silencer disengaged?”

  “During the First Galactic War, the Ixan fleet’s main weakness was that it heavily relied on specialized support ships. If that’s still the case, Teth may have lacked nearby support, making him apprehensive to continue the battle. Even given his new toy, he must know the Providence would rally and likely destroy him.”

  His com started beeping, which ceased when he snatched it from the tabletop. Skimming the message, he stood.

  “Looks like this location isn’t meaningless after all,” he told the others. “The CIC just received a transmission from Ochrim, coming from an underground base on that moon.”

  Chapter 40

  Ochrim

  They found the renowned scientist sagging against a pewter counter, arms spread out atop it to support him, head down. At first, Husher thought the Ixan injured.

  “Ochrim,” he said, conscious of the fact that he knew no title or honorific to append to the name. Sir didn’t seem right. “Are you hurt?” Davies and her squad of marines spread throughout the laboratory as he spoke.

  The scientist looked up, and Husher tried not to stare at how different he looked from the last time he’d seen him interviewed on the news. “Just tired.” Where Ochrim’s skin stretched over the bone protrusions that characterized Ixan faces, it had faded significantly. His eyes had a worn-out look, and the ridges above them were raised in an expression that looked slightly bewildered at the world. “You are First Lieutenant Husher?”

  “I am. And that’s Corporal Davies, checking behind your refrigeration unit there.”

  Davies offered no pleasantries, remaining focused on investigating the room’s blind spots.

  “I’m the only one here,” Ochrim said, “though I’m sure it’s pointless for me to say that. Fleet protocol no doubt requires you to inspect every nook and cranny.”

  “Afraid so. What can you tell us about the Ixan warship whose acquaintance we just had the pleasure of making?”

  “They were here for me. Your timing was impeccable. Teth was threatening to send troops down to collect me if I wouldn’t come peacefully. I was stalling—he didn’t know where to find the entrance of this installation. But I knew it was only a matter of time before they wormed their way in here, and I didn’t expect cavalry of any stripe to arrive. Not this far down Pirate’s Path. Did they fire on you?”

  “They sure did. What do your people want with you?”

  “To force me to work for them, no doubt. Try to force me, anyway. I would sooner die. I didn’t lightly make the decision to develop dark tech for your species before mine could harness it. The faction in control then was repugnant, and I suspect they’ve risen to power once more.”

  Husher sniffed. “Ardent worshipers?”

  Before speaking, Ochrim answered with a sneer. “They cherry-pick Ardent’s teachings to justify their atrocities.”

  “I see.” Husher took a seat at the counter, opposite Ochrim. He laid his assault rifle on the countertop, but kept his right hand resting on the grip.

  The scientist glanced at it. “You don’t completely trust me, do you, First Lieutenant?”

  “I’m not here to interrogate you, Ochrim. You’ve earned humanity’s enduring gratitude and respect. But recent events have made those of us aboard the Providence a little twitchy, and Keyes wants me to ask you a series of polite questions before bringing you aboard.”

  “I understand. Please proceed.”

  “What can you tell us about the wormhole malfunctioning over Spire?”

  Ochrim opened his mouth but didn’t speak, holding Husher’s gaze for a time, his eyes wide. “Far too much,” he said at last. “I caused it.”

  Husher pulled his rifle toward him, curling the fingers of his left hand under the barrel shroud and scooping up the weapon. He suppressed the urge to point it at the Ixan.

  “I was tricked,” Ochrim said.

  “By who?”

  “A man named Tennyson Steele.”

  “Darkstream’s CFO.”

  “He’s CEO, now. Calvin Godfrey died in an alleged suicide.”

  “Wow.”

  “Indeed. Steele came to me with concerns about wormhole generation technology falling into the wrong hands. He wanted a master control system for remotely reprogramming any wormhole made using our generators.”

  “Wouldn’t help if someone reverse engineered our generators to make their own.”

  “Steele presented it as a stopgap measure, something to buy time so the Fleet could act in such an event. I saw the wisdom in that. So I designed the master control. And now it’s been used to stir up war with the Wingers.”

  By now the marines had finished their inspection and stationed themselves around the laboratory. Davies stood at the head of the counter, holding a pistol at the ready and regarding Ochrim with an inscrutable expression. Husher doubted she would intervene—Davies had a cool head, and she wasn’t the mission xenodiplomat.

  Husher was, for better or worse. “Has all of Darkstream gone rogue, or just a few near the top?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “There must be some collusion with the Fleet to make all this work. Fleet authorities aren’t stupid enough to unwittingly serve as patsies to all this.” They’re pretty stupid, though.

  “The Fleet does as your government directs, and your government takes its marching orders from my employer. That’s well known.”

  Husher rose from his stool and stretched his back, never taking his eyes off Ochrim. How practiced at lying could a scientist possibly be? The Ixan seemed earnest in everything he’d said so far. Then again, who could read aliens?

  “Is it possible the Ixa are in on any of this? They wouldn’t risk revealing themselves unless they knew the Fleet would be tied up elsewhere.”

  To his surprise, Davies did speak. “I very much doubt any human would collaborate with Ixa. Even a man like Tennyson Steele”

  Ochrim glanced at her, and then back at Husher.

  “You’re right.” Husher sighed. “I don’t approve of the way we’ve used dark tech since the First Galactic War. That’s no secret to anyone. But we’re going to need it, in order to win out over the enemies lining up against us. If the Ixa are ready to get involved, they’ll probably drag their old allies the Gok into it too. So, Ochrim, if you’re really on our side, tell me. Where is this master control you constructed for Steele?”

  “Darkstream headquarters,” the alien said immediately. “The location of which is a secret.”

  “Will you take us there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’re done here. Keyes gave me authority to decide whether to take you aboard the Providence. I’ve decided.” He nodded at Davies, who crossed the floor to Ochrim’s side. Another marine appeared at his other elbow.

  “I’ll need my tools,” the scientist said. “They will only take a few minutes to gather together.”

  “Get them. We’ve got a war to end.”

  Chapter 41

  HQ

  A harried-looking woman appeared on the CIC’s main viewscreen, her graying hair disheveled, as well as her uniform. “Captain Keyes, this is Tessa Notaras, head of security for Darkstream. Your presence here poses a big problem. Fleet tells me you’ve gone rogue, for one. State your business, and let’s not waste any time.”

  Husher shifted his grip on his gun, glad he wasn’t on camera right now. Other than the fact that Notaras might not appreciate seeing him and Davies guarding Darkstream’s Chief Science Officer at gunpoint, he didn’t feel like getting scrutinized yet.

  “I’ve uncovered a bigger p
roblem than my presence, Ms. Notaras,” Keyes said. “A much bigger one.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “It has to do with someone using Darkstream technology to start a war that shows every sign of dwarfing the First Galactic War, unless something is done to stop it.”

  “That’s absurd. You really have gone haywire, haven’t you Captain?”

  Ochrim stepped into view of the camera, as Keyes had instructed him to do. “It’s true, Tessa.”

  Notaras squinted. “Ochrim?”

  He nodded. “I designed a master control for wormhole generation, and it’s already been used once to kill the entire crew of a UHF ship.”

  The head of security’s mouth dropped. “The Buchanan?”

  “Yes. The master control resides here, and Captain Keyes has brought me to prevent it from being used like that again. If it wasn’t for the Providence, I’d still be stranded in my research station.”

  “I can’t just let you alter sensitive Darkstream infrastructure, Ochrim, even given who you are. I’ll have to consult the CEO.”

  The scientist shifted his weight. “I would ask that you not do that, Tessa. I have reason to believe he was involved in the Buchanan’s destruction, and there’s a good chance much of the board was as well.”

  Notaras shook her head, wincing. “Ochrim…”

  “Tessa, please. You have a historic decision to make, here. Choose unwisely, and millions more could die.”

  The security head hesitated. “All right. I trust your judgment. I’ll grant you access. Here’s hoping I don’t regret it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Terminate the transmission,” Keyes said. Once Tessa Notaras disappeared from the viewscreen, the captain nodded at Husher and Davies. “Escort Ochrim to the shuttle and see it done.”

  “Yes, sir.” Husher saluted, mirrored by Davies. They walked the Ixan into the corridor.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t take more backup, sir?” Davies asked as they went.

  He shook his head. “Either they’ll let us access the master control or they won’t. I don’t think Keyes’s intention is to fight Darkstream.”

  “Fair enough, I guess. At least I won’t have to put up with Wahlburg’s flirting.”

  Once inside the shuttle, Husher poked his head into the cockpit and said hello to Skids, who gave his traditional grunt. Back in the passenger area, Davies was helping Ochrim strap into one of the crash seats. Husher took one directly across from him.

  “One of Darkstream’s greatest failures.” The scientist nodded at the dark reentry suits lined up along the back of the shuttle as Skids took off.

  “And yet there they are,” Husher said.

  “Better than nothing, I suppose.”

  For their benefit, Skids lit up the dividing wall with a visual of the planet where Darkstream maintained its headquarters.

  “Why’s it so dark?” Davies asked. “We’re approaching from the same side as its star.”

  “That doesn’t make much difference,” Ochrim said. “Casper-3b is one of only a handful of gas giants ever discovered that’s blacker than coal, so it reflects back less than one percent of the light that falls on it.”

  “Gas giant? Darkstream has its headquarters inside a gas giant?”

  Ochrim shook his head. “They operate out of a space station orbiting its closest moon. The station is also as black as they could make it.”

  “Like Ixan warships,” Husher said.

  Davies glanced at him with eyebrows raised.

  “My employer likes how little light is reflected by their headquarters and by the nearby planet,” Ochrim went on. “It makes it difficult to detect using optical sensors, and as for other sensors, the only darkgate leading into this system is directly opposite it, on the other side of the star. They also like how far Casper-3b is from its sun. Tech companies save costs by putting their servers in cool places.”

  “Is that what we’re calling them now?” Husher said. “A tech company?”

  The scientist shrugged. “It’s what they are.”

  “They’re a few other things, too.”

  “Such as?”

  “Sociopaths.”

  Ochrim looked away from him, apparently grown weary of the conversation.

  But Husher wasn’t done. “Back on Vermillion, I heard a rumor Darkstream is experimenting with strong AI. Any truth to that?”

  “Still interrogating me, First Lieutenant?”

  “Oh, I doubt I’ll stop doing that any time soon.”

  “Darkstream respects the ban on developing strong artificial intelligence.”

  “Respecting anything would be a first for them. Another thing. During the confrontation with Teth, he mentioned purifying your species to Captain Keyes. What can you tell me about that?”

  “As I’m sure you know, Ixan females are capable of integrating the DNA of other species during conception, allowing them to gestate a hybrid. Reproduction with species that lack sentience has always been looked on as an aberration, but when we began encountering other intelligent species among the stars, some Ixan women chose to produce offspring with them. Baxa rose to power in part by condemning the practice, saying that it dilutes not just our species but the entire galactic diaspora.”

  “So it’s a popular opinion among your people, then.”

  “It was at the time. I’ve never held it. We learned later that Baxa wanted to exterminate the hybrids, and that he’d already begun making headway toward that during the war.”

  “Teth seemed to suggest they’ve finally accomplished Baxa’s vision.”

  “A chilling thought.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. You said ‘galactic diaspora,’ but that can’t be right. ‘Diaspora’ implies a common origin.”

  “Apologies. It’s a teaching of Ardent that all life stems from a single source.”

  “Wow.” Husher shook his head. “You believe in Ardent?”

  “Not everyone who believes in Ardent shares Baxa’s beliefs. Considered in full, the Teachings are an argument for peace, not war.”

  “Calm down, Ochrim. That’s not why it surprises me. I find it odd because you’re a scientist.”

  The Ixan’s gaze strayed from Husher’s once more, as though he were truly finished with the conversation. “I pray that someday you lose your binary view of the world, First Lieutenant.”

  On the screen, the moon orbited by the Darkstream headquarters grew larger. Soon after that, Husher noticed a tiny dot in orbit above it, which quickly resolved into the station itself. Having been constructed since the advent of dark tech, it also took a spherical shape. In the old days, most space stations took the form of a ring, which rotated in order to simulate gravity. But given the widespread adoption of Ocharium-enabled gravity, designers could make them into any shape they wished, and for most purposes spheres were chosen as the most efficient use of space. Just like the planets from which all life arose.

  Communicating with a controller on the station, Skids guided their shuttle into one of the many landing bays distributed across the sphere’s surface, and the viewscreen flicked off as they descended into the gigantic edifice.

  A gentle bump told Husher they’d touched down, and two seconds after that the shuttle door slid open to reveal the Darkstream landing bay.

  Ochrim and Davies pulled at their straps, both clearly eager to leave the shuttle, where things had grown somewhat awkward since the scientist’s last exchange with Husher.

  Outside, they found twenty armed Darkstream mercenaries waiting for them.

  “Quite a welcoming party,” Husher said.

  Tessa Notaras stood at their head, left hand resting on the butt of a pistol poking out of her hip holster. “The CEO has been in touch since we last spoke, First Lieutenant,” she said. “He claims that you’re the traitor, and Ochrim, too. He says you’re both in league with the Wingers. Says there’s even a rumor you have one on your ship.”

  Ochrim’s mouth fell out of the unsettl
ing smile the Ixa wore by default, which made him look pretty pissed. Davies was looking at Husher, clearly at a loss for how to react to the situation.

  That makes the two of us. So he did the first thing that came to mind.

  He put the barrel of his assault rifle against the scientist’s head.

  Chapter 42

  Hostage Situation

  “Take us to the master control,” Husher barked.

  “We don’t know where it’s located,” Notaras said, her eyebrows scrunched together in a look of bewilderment.

  “He’ll take us there, then. Just get out of our way.”

  “Did you hear what I just said? Ochrim betrayed us. Threatening the life of a traitor is not a persuasive thing to do.”

  “He’s your Chief Science Officer. We’ve already told you that Steele is the real traitor.”

  “Why should we believe you, Husher? You don’t have the best track record.”

  “It’s not about me. Obviously either Ochrim or Steele is lying, so if I kill Ochrim there’s a fifty percent chance I’ll be killing an innocent person. Are you really so willing to risk the life of Ochrim, the one who made Darkstream possible in the first place? Do you really think the man who singlehandedly ended the First Galactic War is the traitor, here? You should at least consider that it might be the snake wearing a business suit instead.”

  “I have my orders, First Lieutenant.”

  “Fine. Davies, shoot Ochrim in the shoulder with your shotgun.”

  Davies shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Uh…sir?”

  “It’s an order, Corporal! Shoot him, and if he survives that we’ll see how Ms. Notaras is feeling then.”

  Slowly, Davies raised her firearm until the barrel was pressed against Ochrim’s clavicle, or whatever the Ixan equivalent to a clavicle was.

  “Wait,” Notaras said.

  Husher raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “God damn it. We’ll let you through. Just go.”