The Lost Star Gate (Lost Starship Series Book 9)

by Vaughn Heppner

  The hideous squeal gave Meta a final burst of energy. Then, the wretched squeal happened a second time. With a grunt, Meta dove through the star gate with her husband, leaving the haunted nexus of the Sagittarius Arm.

  -103-

  The two Star Watch officers disappeared through the star gate, leaving the frozen moment behind them.

  A blaster-pimpled Ghar-Yon-Tog strove to smother the antimatter explosion even as he kept the missile from speeding forward. He hated Maddox. The wretched human had used him for target practice, striking his flesh again and again. Each blast-hit had upset his concentration and caused the antimatter explosion to slip one notch nearer to happening.

  Now, Ghar-Yon-Tog struggled to reassert his former control over the warhead. A growing rage against Maddox kept him from doing it as fast as he otherwise might have. How dare the puny human do that to him? Maddox should be mashed protein in his stomach and headed for his sphincter. Instead, the arrogant human who had used him for target practice was safely back on a distant nexus.

  That was too much, too galling—

  Ghar-Yon-Tog struggled to release his anger against the starship captain. He could feel the Spacer’s miniscule transduction power lever the antimatter explosion one particle closer to completion. He needed to put an end to this now.

  Ghar-Yon-Tog was stunned to find that the explosion was a hair’s breath away from happening in real time. How had it gotten this close?

  The Old One knew the answer. Those last blaster shots had brought catastrophe to the brink. The last shots had multiplied Mako’s modification strength, allowing her to wedge destruction to the very tipping point.

  Ghar-Yon-Tog concentrated all his might, but now it was like stopping an avalanche in progress instead of seconds before it started. Incredibly, Mako was still making incremental headway.

  As the black spots on his skin finally stopped smoking with raw hurt, Ghar-Yon-Tog began to furiously reason with himself. The moment was on a knife’s edge. If he made one false move, it would all end in disaster. He had the power to do this, but it would be so much easier if the stubborn little Spacer would quit. Maybe it was time to negotiate his way out of trouble.

  While dampening the antimatter blast and keeping the missile relatively motionless, the Old One opened mind-channels between them. It was delicate work, and no doubt, the Spacer could recognize that. Still, it was time to bargain. He could—no, Ghar-Yon-Tog would be sweet reasonableness and think of nothing else.

  Dear little Mako 21, Ghar-Yon-Tog mentally said. I’m sorry for what I did to you earlier. It was wrong of me. You have greatly aided me in my quest. That deserves a reward, one so huge that the universe will see that I recompense justly those who help me.

  There. That sounded good. The little minx should fall for that.

  Are you truly sorry? Mako mentally asked.

  Good, good, he’d started her talking. The rest would be easy. He still needed to frame this correctly, even if hers was a prideful rejoinder.

  I have said I am sorry. I am more than big enough to admit my errors. I realize others will serve me willingly if they see how generous I am. I yearn to show you vast generosity as a showcase to the rest of the universe. That is how you can know I mean what I say.

  Ghar-Yon-Tog waited, but she did not reply. Maybe she was thinking this through. No doubt, she feared for her safety, as well she should.

  Come, Mako, why continue with this foolishness? You and I will both die. You do not want to die, do you?

  No.

  Good, good. That is a reasonable attitude. Now, tell me what you want, little Mako, and I will grant it in such stunning abundance that you will marvel we ever had this incident with each other.

  Do you know what I want?

  Ghar-Yon-Tog checked his anger at her snotty little question. How dare she talk to him like this?

  He glanced at the missile and the terrible warhead. Already the delay was helping him. The blaster shots no longer stung so much. Damn Maddox with his blaster fire. The little minx with her transduction had been losing to him before that. If Maddox hadn’t fired…

  Well, no matter, no matter. With Mako’s help, they could take care of this deadly problem.

  Tell me what you want, little Mako, Ghar-Yon-Tog told her.

  Her thoughts boiled at him with furious rage. I want you to burn in Hell, fiend, and remember that I, Mako 21, did this to you!

  What? he asked.

  She threw her final dregs of power into the fray. That caused the blaster burns on his skin to itch horribly. The itching made it that much more difficult to concentrate.

  Once more, the missile slipped a little closer.

  Now, Ghar-Yon-Tog knew Mako meant to kill him if she could, even at the cost of her death. If only those burn marks didn’t inflame his tender skin—

  Ghar-Yon-Tog thrust the thought aside. It was time to do this the hard way. Then, he would seek out Maddox and exact a fearsome retribution for all this bother. He would show Maddox the real fury of a Yon-Soth.

  For the next thirteen and half minutes, Ghar-Yon-Tog struggled against Mako 21 and the avalanche-levered antimatter missile.

  At the end of the time, Ghar-Yon-Tog’s incredible but still-groggy power had wilted just enough under the terrible forces unleashed against him. The antimatter explosion finally shoved forward to completion. The eruption roared through the chamber with annihilating, star-bright force. The missile would have resumed its flight, but the detonating warhead obliterated it and Mako 21. The blast also eliminated one of the oldest creatures in the Milky Way Galaxy, burning him out of existence in a flash of time. The explosion began a chain reaction that blew up the ancient but haunted nexus deep in the Sagittarius Spiral Arm.

  Ghar-Yon-Tog the Great, the progenitor of the Yon-Soths, had woken up, and through the efforts of Keith Maker, Mako 21 and Captain Maddox, the Old One had died.

  -104-

  Meta and Maddox tumbled through the between realm linking the two star gates. Maddox fought for consciousness as his injuries threatened to overwhelm him. Grabbing and firing the blaster had taken his last reserves of strength and will. Meta, on the other hand, prayed they had escaped in time.

  Finally, Meta, with Maddox over her shoulders, staggered into the Omega Nebula nexus. She stumbled toward the grounded fold-fighter, grinning at the sight of the open hatch. The hatch moved then, shutting decisively. Meta’s grin threatened to dissolve into tears of frustration.

  After all this effort, to be so close and yet so far—it just wasn’t fair!

  Meta had seen the fold-fighter land earlier, detaching two antimatter missiles. Keith had guided the one through the star gate. The other waited peacefully on the floor, its warhead near the towering rectangle of black stone.

  Through the vibration of the floor and through her space boots, Meta could feel the fold-fighter powering up. It was going to fold back to Victory soon. She staggered toward the tin can, wanting to wave her arms but unable to unless she dumped her husband. This, she refused to do.

  It was too much. Tears leaked from Meta’s eyes and her face screwed up inside her helmet. At that moment, the fighter’s outer hatch reopened. A Star Watch marine in a spacesuit stepped forward and beckoned her with an arm wave.

  Hiccupping as she cried and laughed all at once, Meta lowered her helmet and charged toward the tin can.

  The marine moved out of the way. Meta gathered herself and leaped the distance between floor and hatch, hurtling within as she clutched her husband against her.

  Maddox slid with her across the interior deck of the fold fighter. The marine jumped above them as they slid underneath. The marine landed, reached toward the hatch and slapped a button. The hatch slammed shut, locking into place.

  The marine must have communicated through a helmet comm and on a different channel. The marine crouched low to the deck, bracing himself for liftoff.

  “We’re folding,” Meta radioed Maddox.

  The captain grunted, likely all he coul
d say.

  Then Meta waited, wondering if they could escape from the Omega Nebula in time.

  ***

  That was exactly what Lieutenant Noonan was wondering as the massed Swarm fleet accelerated for the nexus, with Starship Victory hiding behind the ancient Builder structure.

  The insect fleet had become much more visible now, seen through probes. The starship had launched several rather than expose itself to direct sight and thus direct enemy fire. Flotilla after flotilla, more and even more motherships zoomed out of the concealing gases and debris clouds. There were literally thousands upon thousands of the Imperial Swarm vessels approaching.

  As Valerie sat on the command chair, the number of visible enemy warships awed her. To see such massed might on the main screen heading toward the starship to kill her and the crew, and then everyone in Human Space after the bugs took over the nexus—it was one thing to say that 143,000 huge space-capable warships were in a single enemy fleet. It was quite another thing to actually see the vessels filling up space before you. Valerie had fought in her share of space battles. She had fought small actions and huge fleet actions. But she had never even once seen anything remotely like this.

  The lieutenant felt small and insignificant, and she realized that humanity could not cope with such an enemy. If the bugs could reach Human Space, the bugs could wipe out the human race. It wouldn’t be a matter of probabilities, but of cold hard facts.

  The strategy of destroying nexuses made utter sense now. Humanity needed time, decades, centuries, maybe even a millennia or two to get ready to face the Swarm Imperium.

  Yet, as Valerie studied the continuously growing and advancing invasion fleet, she wondered if even several millennia would be enough time for mankind to prepare for the Swarm. Well, she would be long dead by then. Her job was to save humanity today. That meant blowing up this damn nexus before the invasion fleet reached them and made that impossible.

  The grim thought of using the star drive to jump into the nexus—“I’ll do it if I have to,” she said quietly.

  “What was that, Valerie?” Galyan asked, as he hovered nearby.

  Valerie swiveled the chair to face the holoimage. “Where’s Ludendorff?”

  “In the fold-fighter,” Galyan said.

  “Is he awake yet?”

  Galyan’s eyelids fluttered. “Ludendorff is still wearing his spacesuit and helmet, and has not yet responded to queries.”

  Valerie cursed softly. They needed Ludendorff to make a hyper-spatial tube for them.

  “However,” Galyan said, “you may be interested to know that I have communicated directly with the nexus computer-core.”

  “You did what?”

  “I am unable to hack its software,” Galyan said. “But I have convinced the core to make a hyper-spatial tube for us.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I requested permission to flee the advancing Swarm.”

  “What did the computer core say to you?”

  “That it would be better for us to leave so it could greet the new owners peacefully.”

  “The nexus computer core really said that?”

  “It appears to be confused, Valerie. I must assume that is due to the corrupting nature of Ghar-Yon-Tog’s interference with its software.”

  “Why would a Builder computer core side with the bugs?” Valerie asked.

  “We already know the answer. The Builder that Captain Maddox spoke to several years ago assured us that the Swarm are the superior life-forms because they had created the largest political organization in the galaxy. The Swarm also have vastly superior numbers to humanity. Thus, in Builder thinking, they are the superior race.”

  “That’s a poor way to decide it.”

  “What metric would you use, Valerie?”

  “I don’t care about metrics,” the lieutenant said. “Is the fold-fighter back in the barn yet?”

  “If you mean back aboard the starship, yes, Valerie.”

  “Are the antimatter warheads primed and ready?”

  “Yes, Valerie.”

  At that moment, on the main screen, a growing swirling silvery mass appeared on the other side of the nexus.

  “That’s just great,” Valerie said. “The hyper-spatial tube entrance is on the wrong side of the nexus. Now what do we do?”

  “I would suggest that we fly, as fast as we can go, directly to it,” Galyan said.

  Valerie’s nostrils flared. She swiveled the command chair toward the helm. “You heard the Driving Force,” she told the watching pilot. “Take us around the nexus and head for the tube entrance.”

  The helmsman stared at her in shock.

  Valerie shrugged. “Either we survive a massed laser barrage or we don’t. Let’s not fret about it, though.”

  “Roger, Lieutenant,” the helmsman said. With shaking fingers, he began to set the coordinates.

  “Valerie,” Galyan said. “I have an important question for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Who is going to stay behind to make sure the antimatter warheads detonate?”

  “No one is staying.”

  “Captain Maddox planned to stay,” Galyan told her.

  “Bully for him,” Valerie said.

  “Are you not the acting captain now, Valerie?”

  She stared at the little holoimage. “Are you suggesting that it’s my task to stay behind?”

  “I do not want you to stay behind. But I know what Captain Maddox wants.”

  Valerie frowned as she stared at Galyan. Her eyes narrowed and she finally shook her head. “I’m the acting captain. You agree with that, right?”

  “I have said so, Valerie.”

  “Right,” she said, just as Maddox might have done. “If I’m the acting captain, I’m making the decisions around here. No one is staying behind, as we’re going to trust our Star Watch-made equipment. That’s how we’re going to beat the bugs in the end, by having superior weapons. Because I’ll tell you one thing, we ain’t ever going to do it through a war of attrition.”

  “That strikes me as self-evident,” Galyan said.

  “We’re moving around the nexus, Lieutenant,” the helmsmen shouted.

  Valerie looked up at the main screen, waiting for a glimpse of the massed Swarm vessels out there.

  “I have another point to make,” Galyan said.

  “Stow it,” Valerie said. “I’m busy.”

  “Ah,” Galyan said. “Stow it. Yes, I understand. The captain taught me the meaning of the phrase.”

  The lieutenant glared at the holoimage.

  “I am shutting up—now,” Galyan said.

  Valerie gave the holoimage a second look. Then, she concentrated as the starship made its dash for the swirling mass out there.

  -105-

  The ancient Adok starship accelerated from behind the nexus as nine decoy buoys did exactly the same thing.

  Those nine decoys emitted ghost signals and projected pseudo-Victory holoimages that confused the Swarm commanders. How could ten alien starships now be where only one had been originally sighted?

  Orders came down swiftly from the Hive Masters: “Fire, fire on the starships.”

  Fully one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three motherships were in the fleet’s vanguard, but only one thousand six hundred and nineteen targeting computers locked onto their objectives. Seconds later, one thousand five hundred and eighty-nine laser cannons emitted heavy beams of harsh light. The rest malfunctioned in some manner.

  The lasers flashed at the speed of light. Most hit, and nine decoy emitters winked out of existence. That just left Starship Victory.

  One hundred and thirty-seven heavy lasers from a little more than outer medium range struck Victory’s reinforced shield. The results were predictable. The shield did not change through the usual color progression, but went black and blacker still. The saturation laser assault was too much, too fast, and the shield collapsed.

  Thus, one hundred and thirty-seven heavy la
sers struck the armored hull of the starship. The armor was some of the very best of Star Watch. But it was no match for such a massed onslaught. The armor wasn’t like the shield, however. With the shield, the combined energy quickly overwhelmed the electromagnetic defense. The armor heated up in one hundred and thirty-seven separate locations on the hull. Soon, extremely soon under these conditions, the combined wattage would cause the entire armored hull to heat up and glow red-hot.

  The key today was that the motherships did not have the time to lazily hammer the enemy vessel. Here, seconds counted. The short but appreciable delay in firing because of the shock of seeing ten starships likely helped Victory more than any other factor, compounded by the fact that there had been ten separate targets to begin with, thus ensuring far fewer hits on target for the first few seconds.

  During that short spell, the starship had raced at super-acceleration for the nearby swirling entrance to the hyper-spatial tube.

  The second that the shield had lasted also gave the starship a tiny edge.

  Those edges combined allowed an intact starship, albeit with a quickly heating hull, to dive into the swirling mass. Then, Victory disappeared from the Omega Nebula nexus region. As importantly, none of the Swarm laser beams was able to follow it into the hyper-spatial tube—they all fizzled at the edge of the silvery swirling mass instead.

  ***

  The starship hurtled through the hyper-spatial tube toward the destination that Galyan had cajoled the Omega Nebula nexus’s computer-core to program.

  ***

  Meanwhile, inside the Omega Nebula nexus, a brace of antimatter warheads waited as an old-fashioned timer ticked down toward zero. The timer moved second by second and then there was a click. The click caused a detonation device to activate, which sent an electrical pulse to the waiting warheads.

  At that instant, the warheads detonated simultaneously.

  A gigantic antimatter fireball ballooned into existence, obliterating all matter in its path. In this instance, that meant the nexus’s computer core, the star gate with all of its varied components and then one Builder system after another. The final combustible was the nexus’s outer hull, which burned and disintegrated as the antimatter blast devoured that as well.