That bitterness was refreshed each morning when he saw his mangled face in the mirror, knowing full well that after what Steele had done to it, he would never look the same.
I can’t let pride in my subordinates distract me from the task at hand.
Husher and Fesky weren’t the only ones who’d grown accustomed to fighting Gok.
“Coms, tell the Morrison to withdraw from that engagement at speed. Her captain doesn’t seem aware she’s about to get rammed. Have the nearby Roostships focus kinetic impactors on the carrier closing with the Morrison.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Captain,” the sensor operator said, “two Gok missile cruisers have just entered engagement range and they’ve launched a flock of eighty missiles, most of them aimed at the Providence.”
“Thank you, Werner. Tactical, answer with enough Banshees to detonate thirty of the incoming missiles before they reach us, assuming the usual percentage of misses. Instruct the Plunkett and the Quick to add their own Banshees to ours, Coms. Also, tell Fesky to put a half-squadron on standby to run missile defense, in case we don’t whittle the missiles down to a number easily handled by point defense turrets.”
The incoming barrage reminded him of facing down the Tucker, a UHF missile cruiser that had been taken over by Gok. They’d only had to take down fifty missiles, that day, but it had been a daunting number at the time, with only the Providence and three straggling Roostships on hand to neutralize them.
Daunting, mostly because we had our primary capacitor charged. A single hit would have obliterated us.
Not today. Together, the three UHF warships cleaned up the incoming missiles, without any need for help from the half-squadron standing by.
All the while, Keyes kept an eye on the Gok destroyer that was forming up behind the pair of missile cruisers that had launched the barrage. Clearly buoyed by the destroyer’s presence, the cruisers charged forward, probably hoping to get a better vantage point for lending aid to the Slags while further pressuring Keyes’s main fleet.
Until, that was, the Gok destroyer started hitting both cruisers from behind, one with kinetic impactors and the other with a healthy helping of missiles. Caught totally off-guard, both cruisers quickly went down.
“Looks like we won’t have to deal with a second salvo from those two,” Keyes said. “Let’s sew this thing up.”
It took several more hours to win the engagement, since the Gok warships remaining in the system weren’t daunted by the fact that they were flying into a meat grinder. They attacked all the same, and Keyes’s fleet was forced to sit around, simply to wait for the enemy ships to show up before destroying them.
The allied fleet grew as more and more Gok joined them in exchange for the virophage cure. As soon as the battle turned, eleven more ships joined the original eight in pledging themselves to fight with Keyes, and a few more joined them over the subsequent hours.
When the engagement ended, Keyes found himself giving out orders to distribute the cure to twenty-three warships packed with Gok. Providing they all decided the Ixa had betrayed them, and yearned for revenge, they would be a sizable addition to the allied fleet. But Keyes expected at least a few of them to accept the cure and then escape at the earliest opportunity.
“What are your next orders, Captain?” Arsenyev asked as the last drones were dispatched with medicine for the Gok ships.
He shrugged. “I suppose we should set a course for the next system in the Bastion Sector. Continue mopping up Gok. It’s not like we have much else to do.” Given the Commonwealth’s dragging feet.
The fleet started toward the next darkgate, but they didn’t get far before the Vanquisher forwarded them a message addressed to Captain Keyes, which it had received via the micronet.
Even in the middle of a war, the Commonwealth was striving to reduce reliance on dark tech. Keyes considered that admirable, especially considering the alternative involved an increasing number of supernovas. One of the measures for reducing dependence on the technology involved limiting each fleet’s micronet access to a single ship, which would relay any messages to the others.
The current message took the form of a video recording of Ek, who was apparently recovered enough to leave her hospital bed, albeit in a wheelchair.
“Captain Keyes,” she said. “I have been studying the Ixan Prophecies again. In them, I have found good reason to believe that Warren Husher was telling the truth about Baxa’s continued existence in the form of a superintelligent AI. I know that you have come to take the Prophecies seriously, as well as my own abilities. I am not confident the same appraisal of my abilities can be attributed to your compatriots. As such, I urge you to return to Mars, where together we might convince your government to launch an all-out assault on Baxa’s location, which Warren Husher supplied to us before his death.”
In true Fin style, she ended the message abruptly, without bothering to dispense frivolous formalities.
For a few moments, Keyes stared at the tactical display, which had replaced Ek’s face on the CIC’s main viewscreen.
“Coms, put me in contact with Captain Cho of the Vanquisher.”
“It’s done, sir.”
“Captain Cho, I am placing you in command of this fleet.”
Cho blinked. “May I ask the reason, Captain Keyes?”
Keyes nodded. “The Providence will be returning to Mars. Immediately.”
Chapter 17
Its Final Death
“The phoenix ends its cycle, and with its final death it sets fire to the shroud. At last! Phoenix, you have granted your people sight. Weep not as they reward you with death.”
Keyes stared hard at Ek as she recited the relevant verses from the Prophecies. Her respirator now hung from the back of her wheelchair, its breathing tubes connecting it to her gill slits, but the black bodysuit still clung to her skin—it was the only way she could survive out of the ocean, and the ocean she came from was now an irradiated mess. The Gok had seen to that. Certainly, she could choose to dwell in the oceans humanity had created on Mars, but Keyes doubted she even wished to visit them. They would seem too empty, most likely. Or maybe they’d seem too full of memories.
No, he expected Ek would live out the rest of her days on dry land. And given the deterioration of her health, which the best Martian doctors had only slowed, those days were likely few.
Of those sitting around the mahogany conference table, Husher was the first to speak. “If you’re right—”
“I am right,” Ek said. “And I strongly suggest you heed me. The last person who failed to heed my input died on the planet whose destruction I predicted.”
“Point taken. As I was saying, if you’re right, it lends credence to Piper’s idea that the Prophecies are designed to manipulate us. If they come from a powerful artificial intelligence bent on our destruction, it would make sense for that intelligence to use them as a tool to try to control our actions.”
“I see a flaw in that logic,” Keyes said, and everyone turned to face him, as they often did when he spoke, these days. President Wateridge, Ek, Flockhead Korbyn, a slew of UHF and government officials, plus several Winger officers—they all wore attentive expressions. Keyes had always been well-regarded by the Commonwealth public, but he wasn’t used to having high-powered executives actually pay attention to him.
He cleared his throat. “If the AI intended the Prophecies as a tool to manipulate us, then why would it let Warren Husher tell us its location while including a verse that leads us to believe he was telling the truth?”
“Maybe the AI miscalculated,” Husher said slowly. “Surely, even strong AIs can make mistakes. Maybe it truly thought we wouldn’t believe my father.”
“Still,” Piper said. “Captain Keyes’s point remains. Why include the verse at all?”
Ek rose unsteadily to her feet, which drew everyone’s attention to her, especially that of the Wingers. “I see this point as immaterial,” she said. “If we are indeed facing an entity
whose intellect exceeds any one of ours by several orders of magnitude, we must strive to destroy it at all costs, before it gets any stronger. And yet, even with the entire Winger fleet under my command combined with the UHF, it may not be enough to defeat Baxa. So—”
“I object,” Korbyn said, leaping up and unfurling his wings, knocking over his chair. “Honored One, with respect, I can’t support your return to space. That is what put you in this condition.”
“I will return to space, Flockhead Korbyn. And though your words are bold, you will support me in it. None of us can sit idly by while the humans attempt to fight the Ixa alone. Not when doing so will likely mean our death anyway. If I am to perish, I far prefer it to be in battle, making a meaningful contribution to the war effort. Is that understood?”
As he righted his chair and took his seat again, Korbyn clacked his beak. “It is understood, Flockhead Ek.”
The Fin nodded, and to Keyes she looked satisfied at the Winger’s use of her newly conferred rank.
Keyes leaned forward, folding his hands together atop the table. “Perhaps we can dig up an old centrifuge for Ek’s use. Starship crews used to spend time in them regularly, to combat the negative effects of freefall, before the advent of Ocharium nanites and fermion-infused decks.”
Ek nodded again. “My thanks, Captain Keyes. Your idea is much appreciated, and if you are able to secure a centrifuge for my use, then I will accept. We certainly lack the time to sit around and invent a way to introduce Ocharium into Fin cells. Now, as I was saying, it is impossible for us to anticipate the strategies or even the tactics of an intellect as vast as Baxa’s has apparently become. As such, I advocate that, before embarking on a mission to defeat him, we must go to the Kaithe and request their aid.”
“Out of the question,” Husher said. “The Kaithe helped us find Ochrim, and then Ochrim betrayed humanity. The Prophecies even predict the Kaithe’s treachery.”
“You have made my point for me,” Ek said, her calm gaze settling on Husher. “It seems clear that the Prophecies were designed to manipulate us and to turn us against each other. In fact, driving a wedge between humanity and the Kaithe has possibly been Baxa’s greatest success.”
“As much as I also distrust the Kaithe, I think Ek’s words are well worth considering,” Keyes said. “And not only because she has a Fin’s perceptiveness. To win this war, we need to act in ways the AI hasn’t anticipated. Baxa probably doesn’t expect us to overcome our distrust of the Kaithe.”
“Indeed,” Ek said. “I believe we must compare probabilities. Which is more likely—that we will defeat Baxa in our current state or that the Kaithe are trustworthy after all? Personally, I consider the latter much more likely, and we will need all the help we can get.”
President Kayden Wateridge cleared his throat, and those present regarded him with even more attentiveness than they had Keyes. “The decision to devote forces to this effort is not mine alone to make,” Wateridge said. “We live in a democracy, after all. But I find your line of argument convincing, Flockhead Ek. I see the sense in it, and I am determined not to follow the example of my predecessor, who was so corrupted she refused to entertain reason whatsoever. I will do whatever I can to ensure you have the proper support to reach the Kaithe and then defeat the AI.”
A silence fell over the room. For his part, Keyes was both shocked and impressed. It seems the president is finally rising to the challenge of governing.
“It is appreciated,” Ek said. “But now that I have persuaded you of how vital this effort is, I want to be clear about something. I will not allow the Wingers to be treated as inferior in any way. I will not allow their Interplanetary Defense Force to simply become an adjunct to your United Human Fleet. If you want my aid, and if you want the aid of the Wingers who follow me, then you will treat us as equals. Our help is contingent on certain guarantees. That humanity will not attempt to dominate the galaxy as they once did. That this alliance will result in a collaborative playing field between equal partners, not the exploitation and oppression that occurred before. I want a seat at the table when strategy decisions are made for this war, and I want Wingers to have seats as well.”
President Kayden Wateridge stood. “I will bring all of this before an emergency meeting of the Galactic Congress. Your analysis, as well as the result of our discussion here. I would like to extend an invitation to all surviving members of the Winger Directorate, who I hope will join us, in this and future meetings of Congress, so that our species can move forward as partners with intertwined futures and not as isolated species in a crumbling alliance.”
“This is a promising start,” Ek said.
Glancing at Husher, Keyes saw that the young officer was as impressed as he was with Wateridge’s words. Even so…
“Mr. President,” Keyes said, “It’s crucial that you push for Congress to devote as much of the UHF to this mission as possible. Sending an inadequate number of ships on a mission to do battle with an all-powerful AI would be the same thing as ordering their deaths.”
Wateridge nodded. “I will do my best, Captain Keyes.”
Chapter 18
The Silencer
“Leader,” the Communications auxiliary said, “the Tumbran in charge of the darkgate ahead has sent a transmission request. Shall I accept?”
Command Leader Teth could feel the slow grin that sprouted across his muzzle. “Certainly,” he told the auxiliary. “After all, we all need diversions, however trifling, out here in the cold void of space. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, Leader. I’m putting the Tumbran through now.”
“Command Leader Teth of the Silencer,” the Tumbran said when it appeared on the viewscreen, sounding somewhat bored. It was gazing down, off-camera, probably reading from a tablet. “I’ll need to see Galactic Amnesty Council authorization papers for your destroyer’s departure from Ixan space.”
Let’s see if we can’t liven up the creature’s day. “I seem to have misplaced them,” Teth said.
That caused the Tumbran to look up, chin sack wobbling from the sudden movement. “Then I must send word to the Galactic Treaty Organization immediately, as per section eight, subsection two point five of the—”
“Allow me to spare you the bother of all that. I’ve left Ixan space because I’m waging war on everyone I don’t share a species with. That includes you, Tumbran. Strategy auxiliary, launch Hellsong missiles at the runt’s monitor ship. Three should do the trick.”
There was a clatter from the viewscreen, which Teth took to mean the Tumbran had dropped its tablet. Seconds later, it confirmed that by raising both its spindly-fingered hands to its cheeks. “I would ask that you remotely disarm the missiles you have fired immediately.”
“I don’t think so,” Teth said.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“We’re aware that the Tumbra have been helping humanity wage war against us since the First Galactic War. We’ve been aware of that for a long time. And we’ve been very patient in waiting for exactly the right moment to exact our revenge. At any rate, we don’t wish to have our fleet movements communicated to the apes anymore.”
“I ask that you reconsider what you are doing. We Tumbra are responsible for maintaining the darkgates as well as monitoring them. If anything goes wrong with one, entire routes could be closed to you. Including attack routes and supply routes.”
“I’ll take that gamble,” Teth said. And he added: “You should have stayed neutral, Tumbran.”
Moments later, the thing’s monitor ship burst apart, creating a brief spark amidst the void, which the darkness promptly swallowed.
Chapter 19
Ready for Anything
Sergeant Sera Caine took a deep breath, then knocked on the hatch in front of her. Within a few moments, it opened to reveal Vin Husher.
“Caine,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Can I come in, Vin?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Okay.” He opened the hatch wide enough fo
r her to enter, which she did, taking a seat in the only chair, as she had the last time she’d visited his cabin. “Should I…close this?” He gestured at the hatch.
“Sure.”
Pulling the hatch shut, he crossed to sit on the bunk. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me Vin.”
“Do you remember the last time I came here?”
He nodded, his short blond hair waving slightly. “You were pretty out of it. Though I can’t decide whether that was a better time or worse.”
“Worse, for me. I mean, sure, we’re headed down Pirate’s Path for the third time in the space of a year, and we really have no idea what’s waiting for us. But at least I have my sanity back, and I can take action against any enemy that shows up.”
“Fair enough.”
She drew a deep breath, trying not to think too much about how the cabin smelled like him. Which made sense, considering he slept here. It was a good smell. “I came to ask how you’re handling the news that your father was probably right about Baxa being a strong AI.”
Husher’s shoulders slumped a little, as though weighed down by a great burden. “Honestly, I’m doing my best not to think about it. Because when I do, I realize just how hard I’m taking it. Which is pretty hard, and I think it’s getting worse.”
Caine swallowed. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, it’s…I need to start thinking about it. Processing it. I appreciate the visit. But honestly, I should be asking how you’re feeling, now that we’re returning to the Kaithe’s homeworld. After what happened to you there.”
“Yeah.” She paused. “It’s a bit rough. And I’ll admit it—I’m scared. But I’m also ready to do whatever it takes to win this war, and if that means dredging up memories I’d rather keep buried, then so be it.” She looked up at him sharply, squinting. “Wait a second. I came here to check on you. How’d you turn this around to be about me?”
Reckoning: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 3 Page 6