by M. R. Forbes
“Yes, Captain?” Roils said.
“Is there a problem with the comm gear? Our Milnet connection is dead.”
“Sir, I haven’t registered any discrepancies.”
“Can you double-check it for me?”
“Aye, sir.”
Something was wrong. Very wrong. The Milnet didn’t just disappear like that.
“Sir,” Grool said. “We’re picking up a disterium plume.”
What? “Put it on projection.”
The front of the bridge updated with the projection, showing the cloud of gas on the starboard side of the battleship.
“It’s the Nova Battlegroup, sir,” Grool said.
Golt remembered to breathe. He was so on edge that for a moment he had been afraid of his own ships.
“Open a channel,” Golt said.
“Aye, sir. Channel open.”
“Commander Ng,” Golt said. “What brings you to our part of the galaxy?”
He waited a few seconds. There was no reply.
“Commander?” he repeated.
“Sir, incoming torpedoes detected!” Ensign Bashir cried.
“Raise shields,” Golt said.
The flare of light from the torpedoes’ thrusters became visible a half-second later. They had been fired by the Nova! He tapped the commands on his terminal, putting the entire fleet into an immediate red alert.
“All hands to battle stations,” he said. “We’re under attack.”
The other ships in the Nova Battlegroup began to move out from behind the battleship, firing their munitions at the Dain Battlegroup’s assets. Two ships were hit before they could get their shields up, the torpedoes blowing out the sides, destroying the reactors, and venting life from the vessels.
“Treason!” Golt shouted in anger. “Scramble the fighters. Fire back. Target the Nova.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Solstice, Moonlight, Calaban,” Golt said, calling out the names of the battlecruisers. “Move around to the left flank and open fire. Hit them hard and fast.”
“Aye, sir,” the ships’ commanders replied.
“Sir, fighter groups are launching from the Nova.”
Golt watched the projection. Four squadrons of fighters had already been dispatched, too quickly for them to counter. They were taking heavy damage, the surprise assault catching them with unaware. How could an entire Battlegroup be part of this? How could they be turning on the Republic in this way? It didn’t make any sense.
“Sir, another disterium plume,” Grool said.
A second plume? There were no other Republic ships in the area. He tapped the commands to switch the projection to the new targets, confused by the sudden appearance of the long and angled Outworld battleships. What were they doing here?
A moment later, a stream of black shapes began to pour from the new vessels, a hundred or more of them spreading out and heading for their position.
“Shrikes!” Grool said, the fear obvious in his voice.
“Sir, this is Commander Fifel on the Solstice. Our systems have gone offline. Our terminals are locked, our engines powered down.”
“This is Commander Huggins on the Calaban. We’re having technical difficulties, sir. Our weapons systems are offline. We’re sitting ducks out here!”
“We need to retreat, sir,” Grool said.
“Captain, Red Leader reporting. Fighters are disabled. I repeat. Our fighters are disabled. They all shut down at once.”
Golt stared at the viewport, and then at the projection. They were surrounded, and everything was going wrong. He watched as the Logan, one of his battleships, crossed ahead of him, firing everything it had at the Nova. A moment later, the Shrikes joined the fray, circling the ship and unleashing one hundred small stings on it that quickly destroyed the shields. Three torpedoes from the Nova tore into the Logan, ripping three gaping holes in the superstructure.
“Call the retreat,” Golt said. “Get us out of here. We need to warn the others.”
“Aye, Cap-”
A sharp report sounded, and Grool slumped forward at his station, blood spraying onto his terminal. Golt reached for the sidearm at the side of his chair as two more of the bridge crew were executed.
He never got to use it. A barrel was pressed against his skull, right behind his large left eye.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Lieutenant Roskov said from the other end of the weapon. “For the glory of the Great Return.”
Golt was dead before he could make any sense of why.
12
“Bullshit,” Abbey said, staring at the avatar of her daughter. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care if you believe me. Gavin is dead. So is Hayley. Maybe Liv will be next?”
“Who the frag are you?”
“Venerant Holst. It’s a pleasure to meet you, especially under these circumstances.”
Abbey could feel her heart thumping, her soul preparing to scream out in agony. She had no reason to believe the Venerant, other than the fact that they had access to Hayley’s Construct ID. Any decent Breaker could hack the Construct though. That didn’t prove a damn thing. She had to stay calm, and not let Thraven and his goons get the best of her.
“If you don’t care what I believe, then why are you here? Why did you answer me?”
“To give you the news. I know you’ve been out of touch with current events lately.”
“I’ve got some news for your boss, too,” Abbey said. “Elivee and Koy are dead, and the Haulers know it was his fragging Curlatin that killed the crew of the Devastator, not me. I imagine the Don won’t be too happy when he finds out about that.”
“It’s already happened,” Holst said. “A hand well-played, Abigail. The Haulers are nothing compared to the glory and might of the Gloritant and the Nephilim. They will fall as the Republic will fall. As the galaxy will fall.”
“Not if I can do anything about it.”
“Which you can’t. Or won’t. You’re nothing, Cage. Too little. Too late. Why bother, anyway? Your daughter is dead.”
Abbey shuddered. She couldn’t let this asshole get under her skin. They were trying to make her angry. Why? To accelerate her change? She almost laughed at the idea of it. They didn’t know she wasn’t going to change. How could they? Thraven didn’t know about the Shard either. She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him.
“She and Gavin aren’t the only ones,” Holst continued. “Do you remember Captain Mann?”
“Just keep throwing names out there. Forget it. I’m done here. If Thraven sent you to frag with my head, you’re doing a lousy job. And you’re just proving how desperate he’s getting. He thought I was going to die on Azure, and I didn’t. Just like I didn’t die on Anvil. Just like I didn’t die on Hell. I’m sure we’ll meet at some point. You’ll probably be stuck to the edge of my Uin.”
Abbey reached out to disconnect from the Construct.
“One second, Abigail,” the Venerant said. “I want to show you something.”
Abbey knew she shouldn’t hesitate, but she did.
An image appeared beside Hayley’s avatar, floating in the center of the room. Abbey felt her stomach turn at it.
Gavin. He was bloody and broken; his throat ripped away.
“Anyone can fake a photograph,” Abbey said.
“I thought you might require more.”
The image changed to a video of the Goreshin ravaging her ex-husband. She only caught the first seconds before disconnecting her link to the Construct.
She leaned over in the module, bracing herself on the wall, her stomach sick. If the Venerant wasn’t lying about Gavin, did that mean he wasn’t lying about Hayley? She could barely handle the thought.
She felt the tears spring to her eyes. She should have warned her. She should have told her that trouble might be coming her way. Hayley was smart. She was strong. She could have handled it.
She threw her fist into the wall, the power of the shardsuit allowing her to dent the metal. She
was falling into the Venerant’s trap. She was allowing herself to get angry. So what? She wouldn’t become a monster. Not now.
At least, not the kind of monster Thraven was expecting.
“Queenie?”
Gant was outside the module, knocking on the door.
“Queenie, are you in there?”
Abbey wiped her eyes. Hayley wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. She would have known. The Shard would have told her somehow.
“Am I right? Is she alive?”
She said it out loud, hoping for resolution. The Shard couldn’t speak to her. It had used itself up to repair her.
“Queenie?” Gant said again.
Abbey opened the door. Gant was looking up at her, concerned.
“Queenie, what were you doing? What happened?”
Abbey fell to her knees. “I tried to contact Hayley. To warn her.” She could feel fresh tears coming. “Some asshole Venerant named Holst answered using Hayley’s identifier and avatar. He said she was dead.”
“Oh, Queenie,” Gant said, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t believe it, do you? Thraven is trying to get to you. He knows you made it off Azure, and he’s afraid of you.”
“I told myself that. But Holst had video of a Goreshin killing Gavin, my ex-husband.”
“It could be fake.”
“It wasn’t. I’m sure it wasn’t. Gavin was a good man. We didn’t work out, but he was a good father. If they got to him, then they were close to Hayley. How would she escape from them? How could she still be alive?”
“You told me she wanted to be like you. That she was preparing to be a Breaker when she got older. Queenie, I’m sorry for your former mate, but that doesn’t mean your child is lost. You can’t believe what Thraven tells you. He expects the Gift to drive you mad. He wants it to do his dirty work for him and take you out of the equation.”
“I know he does. I know I shouldn’t believe this. But this is my daughter, Gant. I was so close to going home to her, and it was all ripped away.”
“Queenie, I.” Gant paused. “I don’t know what to say. This is where we are, here and now. The Rejects need you. Like you said, we have a lot of work to do. We can’t let Thraven beat us. You can’t let him beat you. Too many lives are at stake. Too many mothers who might lose their children. Too many children who could lose their mothers.”
“I can’t do this knowing I let her down. I failed her.”
“You can, and you will,” Gant said, his barks becoming deeper and more forceful. “This has blown up beyond any one of us, and especially beyond you. The Light of the Shard came to you. It gave you power no one else has.”
“Not because it wanted to. I was the only one around that it was compatible with.”
“Whatever that means. That isn’t the point. You’re special. How? Why? It doesn’t matter. It just is. The entire galaxy is at stake, Queenie. You know what we need to do. You know what you need to do. If your child is dead, then we’ll avenge her. If she isn’t, then we’ll save her.”
Abbey looked into Gant’s furry face. The way his nose was wrinkled and his eyes were lowered was the most pathetic, adorable thing she had ever seen. She swallowed her fear and nodded.
“You’re right. Whatever Thraven’s goal is to hit me below the belt like this, I’m not going to give him the fragging satisfaction. He wants to turn me into a rage monster? I’ll give him a fragging monster all right.”
She leaned forward, embracing Gant and letting herself smile when he started to purr.
“Damn it, Queenie,” Gant said, trying to wriggle free.
“Relax, Gant. There’s nobody else around, and I could use a hug right now.”
Gant stopped fighting it, wrapping his long arms around her. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe she’s dead,” he said. “It’s strategically short-sighted, and while Thraven is many words that translate to four letters in your language, the one thing he isn’t is short-sighted. She’s leverage he’ll want to keep on hand to control you.”
Abbey relaxed slightly, realizing he had a point. Thraven was hoping for a visceral, emotional reaction, not a logical one. Besides, she knew deep down that Hayley was still alive. She didn’t know how, but she was sure of it. “How did you get so insightful?”
Gant’s embrace softened as he froze. “A lot of pain,” he replied.
Abbey was going to ask him what he meant, but Bastion appeared in the doorway ahead of her. He made a face when he saw how she and Gant were holding one another.
“Whoa,” he said. “I don’t mean to interrupt, err, whatever this is, but Queenie, the shit is going up big-time.”
Abbey pulled away from Gant, getting to her feet. “What do you mean?”
“Captain Davlyn had Nerd send word down to us. One of the Council members was just murdered after she refused to vote for the Crisis Consolidation Bill.”
“Crisis Consolidation Bill?”
“Yeah. I don’t know; Nerd doesn’t always speak in words that any human being can understand even though they’re in Terran. Something like control of the RAS blah blah, Thraven has power over the military blah blah.”
“You’re saying it failed?”
“Yeah. That’s what I think Nerd said. That’s not the juicy part, though.”
“Can you get to the point?” Gant said.
“Is that a wrench in your tightpack, or are you just happy to see me?” Bastion replied, glancing down.
Gant growled softly. “You aren’t funny.”
“What’s the juicy part?” Abbey asked.
“The Milnet is down.”
“Down?” Gant said. “You mean offline?”
“Completely. Davlyn says there’s nothing moving on it.”
“Queenie, this is bad,” Gant said.
“What do you think? Abbey asked.
“Captain Mann’s message to Ruby. He said something about an alternate network, but it was only supposed to be on Tridium-built ships.”
“You’re saying Tridium is in bed with Thraven?”
“In bed and making the beast with two backs,” Gant replied.
Abbey wasn’t familiar with the term, but she could guess what it meant. “The Republic sources hundreds of components from Tridium. Not just ships. They have contracts for everything from laser batteries to refrigeration.”
“A lot of those components don’t interface directly with critical systems,” Gant said.
“No, but they’re all on the network, aren’t they?”
“Of course. Everything is. Oh. Yeah. You’re right. This is worse than bad.”
“What are you two getting at?” Bastion said.
“Security protocols won’t allow a refrigerator to have the same access level as a main control system,” Gant said. “But if you embed an undiscovered alternate network protocol in a refrigerator, and then take down the standard private communications platform also known as Milnet -”
“You can bring up your proprietary communications network and still talk to the individuals who are loyal while destroying the opposition’s ability to effectively coordinate a defense,” Abbey finished.
“So you’re saying what, exactly?”
“Losing the vote forced Thraven’s hand. He’s moved up his timetable and started his war. A war the Republic has no chance of winning on their own.”
“Oh,” Bastion said. “You’re right. That is bad. So what do we do?”
“You’re going to head to the cockpit and get the Faust on the way to Avalon. Call back the others, whatever they’ve gathered is all we’re taking. We don’t have time to frag around. Tell Davlyn to get his ass back to Kett. I’m sure the General will understand what’s happening. I don’t know how he’s going to react to it, but his forces are the best hope of slowing Thraven down.”
“What if that asshole won’t fight?” Gant said.
“Avalon first,” Abbey replied.
“Isn’t Thraven’s attack more important?” Bastion asked.
<
br /> “We can’t win with what we have right now. If there’s a Gate out there and we have a chance to destroy it, we need to destroy it. That will force Thraven to slow down and give us an opportunity to even the odds.”
“Even the odds how?” Gant said.
“I’m saving that surprise for later,” Abbey replied. “You’re not going to like it.”
Bastion laughed. “I can’t fragging wait.”
13
“Everybody buckled in back there?” Bastion said, flipping the switches in the Faust’s cockpit to get the old star hopper back in business.
“If they’re not buckled in by now, they deserve the bruises,” Abbey replied from the seat beside him.
It was the seat Ruby normally occupied, and she was determined that the synth would again. She had no idea what Sylvan Kett wanted with her or had done to her, but he was going to put her back the way he found her, or there was going to be hell to pay.
“Captain Davlyn, Dak, you know what to do.”
“Aye, Queenie,” Davlyn replied.
The Captain had been even more agreeable after Councilwoman Lorenti had been killed and the Milnet had gone down. It was pretty easy for him to understand what was happening, and it was validation that the Rejects weren’t full of shit. He had been almost grateful to be out in the Fringe with them instead of in the middle of a Republic fleet whose loyalties were questionable.
When Gant had turned over a handwritten schematic for updating the High Noon’s comm systems to route privately through the Galnet, Davlyn was even more impressed. It was a system Gant had only just finished integrating with the Brimstone before the Rejects had left, and would hopefully allow them to stay in touch.
Not that Abbey wanted them to reach out just yet. She wanted to take the General by surprise. She wanted the High Noon to show up out of nowhere with the now fully-loyal Captain and the former mercenary in tow to plant the flag in Abbey’s name, carrying a method for their fleet to stay in contact with one another when all of the military assets were down. That was all she wanted them to do for now.
She would deal with Kett herself.
“Let’s go,” she said.