by Kal Spriggs
“No, Lieutenant. Just because it doesn’t show power signatures, it doesn’t mean it isn’t armed.” Lucius brought up the sensor data on his own console. “Launch one of our recon drones.”
Tech Brunetti winced, “It’s our last one, sir—“
“And if we’re not destroyed by that ship, we can recover it.”
There was a few seconds wait. A few minutes after launch the probe flooded the bridge with information.
The Ghornath battlecruiser lay at rest, on a lower orbit than the War Shrike. It seemed to all intents and purposes abandoned and lifeless. “Lieutenant Naevius, I’ll have the recon drone turned over to your control. Try to get me as much information on that ship as possible.”
Ensign Tascon spoke up, his voice tight with nervousness, “Sir, what should we do?”
Lucius looked up at the communications officer, “Ensign Tascon, there’s not much we can do. If their ship’s in any better shape than ours I can’t tell.” If they weren’t… well, a Desperado-class battleship was only slightly more powerful than a Ghornath battlecruiser. The War Shrike could take higher accelerations and was bolstered by more powerful weapons, although they were considerably fewer than what the Ghornath battlecruiser would mount.
Of course, intact did not really describe the War Shrike. With no shields and the weapons systems doubtful at best, Lucius figured he'd do as much good out on the hull and throwing rocks as going to battlestations. “Commander Harbach, I need you to look at your repeater—”
Harbach interrupted him in a nasal whine, “I’m busy down here! These idiots nearly lost containment on the reactor just a few minutes ago. I may have to shut everything down. You would be advised to conserve power and air—”
“Commander Harbach!” Lucius barked, jamming his finger on the override switch. He waited for a moment in silence. “Air will not be an issue, but we have a vessel and I need your opinion of it. I need an estimate of its status. Turn your attention to the repeater.” He removed his finger from the switch and took controlled breaths.
A few seconds later, Naevius’s recon drone circled the battlecruiser. It beamed sensor data to the War Shrike. He reported in audibly as well. “Some life signs, port engine core destroyed, weapons systems inoperative, communication’s nodule appears to be completely destroyed. The shield coils look to be intact, but they’ve no power to use them, both reactors are gone, completely destroyed.” There was a long pause, “You know, some of the damage looks to have originated from the inside.”
“Secondary explosions?” Lucius asked.
“No, no, the damage is all wrong for that!” Harbach interjected. “The engineering sections are nowhere near the external hits they've taken. Far more likely to be an attempt to scuttle, you know, or maybe sabotage the vessel.”
Lucius nodded. He opened another channel, “Major Proscia, I need you to prep a boarding party, it looks like you’ll be going to the surface some other time.” He thought for a moment. “Initial entry team as a scouting operation only. I need to be kept informed, try to use non-lethal force when possible.”
“Captain, you remember what we did at Ghornath Prime, correct?” Ensign Tascon said. Tascon's Adams-apple bobbed nervously. “We didn’t exactly make any friends after our victory there.”
Lucius felt his lip curl up in disgust. “Might as well call it what it was. The fight‘s sole purpose was to loot the Ghornath technology base. We betrayed our allies to buy ourselves some more time against our enemies.” The War Shrike herself had engines, weapons, and power plants built off technology stolen from the Ghornath. “We owe them for that. Perhaps we can make some of that right.”
***
Lucius stood over the massive, bullet riddled corpses of the Ghornath, and wondered how things had gone so horribly wrong.
Of course, he didn’t really stand there on the alien ship. He sat on the edge of his command seat, and stared at the projected holograms from the marine boarding team. He watched and let Major Proscia do his job. Lucius knew his own skills; commanding a boarding operation was a task he knew Major Proscia would handle far more effectively.
The camera feed from the Marines' helmets shunted into the ships computer. That feed combined with shipboard sensors developed a three-dimensional overlay of the vessel.
As a courtesy, Major Proscia relayed that to Lucius, keeping him informed of the operation. “Looks like Ghornath weapons,” the NCO in charge of the team spoke, his voice seemed close. “From the way they lay… they killed each other.”
Lucius nodded, it looked more and more like sabotage--or perhaps--a mutiny.
“Proceeding deeper into the ship, heading towards the bridge.” The view expanded as the team of Marines proceeded deeper into the ship, the sensors on their suits gathering information on the environment around them. “There’s a group of heat signatures ahead.”
A harsh, guttural bark issued from the corridor ahead. The computer translated it, even as the NCO responded to the challenge, “My name is Sergeant Govi, I’m—“
A rattle of weapons fire and a hail of bullets ended the brief confrontation. “Returning fire!” The repeater view altered, quickly forming a close overlay of the area. Enemy heat signatures appeared and faded as the Marines returned fire. A cluster of them on the bridge surged forward. They charged into the weapons fire of the boarding team. Lucius shook his head at the waste. They weren’t here to fight, these Ghornath had thrown their lives away for nothing.
“We’ve secured the bridge, multiple enemy casualties, most of them are dead. One Marine wounded, we’ve performed first line aid. We need a medic ASAP.”
Lucius spoke, “Major Proscia, we’ll send the shuttle back immediately.”
“Thank you, sir. The medic team is a priority, but I’d like to get more personnel in there to secure the area. We still don’t know what’s going on, and the situation is likely to get more confused rather than less.” Major Proscia’s voice was steady, but a rough edge of excitement lurked just under his words.
Lucius got a jolt as he realized that this was what the Major lived for. For him, the prospect of a dangerous boarding operation must be what commanding a ship in battle was to Lucius.
“Very well, Major. Have any of your personnel you’re sending assemble at the shuttle airlock. Lieutenant Naevius is standing by.”
“Yes, Captain. I’ll be going over myself to maintain better control. We’re boarding the shuttle now.”
Lucius realized the other Marines must have been waiting. “Lieutenant Naevius here, sir. They’ve been standing in their gear waiting outside the airlock.” There was a pause, and Lieutenant Naevius’s voice was slightly more restrained, “Uh, Major Proscia informs me he’s ready to go.”
“Very well, Lieutenant, take them over.”
***
“Well, Captain, I’ve got some organization here, finally.” Major Proscia said, a couple hours later.
“Do you know what happened yet?” Lucius asked. He felt a little light-headed and he fought to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t afford to sleep now, too many lives hung on his decisions. Lucius had already taken stimulants twice now, he didn't want to have to take them again. He hated the jittery, disjointed feeling the drugs gave him.
“Yes, sir, it looks like some kind of mutiny, though I’ve never heard of the like among the Ghornath.”
“It has happened before, but rarely,” Lucius said. He felt saddened to hear it. “Most of the time it occurs over incidents of honor.”
“Well, Captain, that’s actually understandable.” Major Proscia said. His voice suddenly sounded more confident.
Lucius restrained a sigh, “Any details?”
“Negative, sir. We have three of the individuals from the bridge, all of them are badly injured. We’ve also found six others, all of them restrained and confined to a storage room just off the bridge. Two of them have senior officer rank. I’d like to transfer them over to the War Shrike, if possible.” Major Proscia paused for a second,
“Prisoner manifest reads Fleet Consul Feydeb and Strike Leader Maygar. There is also—“
“Major did you say Strike Leader Maygar?” Lucius asked, his voice tight.
“Uh, yes, sir. I don’t read Ghornath well, but that’s his name and rank.”
“I’d like him brought to the conference room immediately, if possible.” Lucius said. He felt suddenly much more alert and awake.
“Perhaps the interrogation room—“
“No, Major, have him brought to the conference room as soon as your Marines get him aboard.” Lucius said. “My apologies, Major. I know that particular Ghornath. I… I owe him better than to meet him in an interrogation room.”
The Major cocked his head, “Understood, Captain. I’ll have my men notify you when they’ve got him secured there.”
“Thank you, Major. Please continue to keep me informed.” Lucius cut the circuit and stared down at his hands for a long moment. After a moment’s reflection, he turned to the sensors tech, “Brunetti, that ship, its registry is the Gebneyr, correct?”
“Uh, yes sir.” Brunetti’s startled voice came a moment before he looked up from his console, “How’d you know?”
“I’ve seen her before, a long time ago.”
Lucius stared at the battle-scarred hulk. Craters and gouges pitted its armor and, here and there, the inner structure of the ship lay open to the cold void of space. Something in Lucius wanted to weep when he remembered the sleek, predatory vessel he’d encountered twenty years ago. “I wanted to destroy that ship the first time I saw her.”
Time wrought its changes on everything.
Lucius wasn’t aware he’d spoken until Ensign Tascon answered him with a leer, “Shouldn’t be too hard, now, eh?” Lucius turned an unblinking gaze on the olive-skinned officer. Tascon flushed and looked away.
“Captain, Sergeant Alsan here. We have the prisoner in the conference room as you requested.”
“Very well, I’m on my way.” Lucius stood, “Tascon, let me know of any developments.” He stepped off the bridge and closed the heavy hatch behind him. He didn't see the two Marines snap to attention as he passed. He walked in a haze to the door of the conference room. One Marine stood outside and the sergeant himself stood inside.
The heavy alien sat, his hairless skin rough. He looked like an aged stone statue. Two silver eyes peered from under a heavy brow. A heavy muzzle filled with dull, triangular teeth, and absurd, almost comically pointed ears finished the ensemble. Most Ghornath looked the same to humans, and vice-versa. Even so, Lucius felt a start of recognition as he stared on the face of this once-enemy. “Hello Strike Leader Maygar.”
“You have the advantage of me,” the Ghornath’s flawless Terran might have surprised the Marine guards. It did not surprise Lucius. “Who are you?” The alien squatted at the end of the table. His cuffed hands rested on the table surface. If he were to stand, he would have to hunch over in the room. Few human ships were designed for three meter tall aliens.
Lucius narrowed his eyes when he noticed the bandages swathing the alien’s left shoulder, “Did my men wound you?”
Strike Leader Maygar shook his head. “I repeat my question, who are you?”
“Twenty years ago, hours after the fall of Ghornath Prime, a dozen Ghornath ships made a break for the edge of the system. They could have escaped undetected, save they stumbled across a damaged Imperial corvette.” Lucius seated himself at the near end of the table. He stared down its length into those mirror-like eyes. “It was drifting without power, with no communications and little air. They could have taken revenge on their enemy. No one--on either side--would have thought anything of it. Instead, the Strike Leader ordered the ship boarded and its crew was taken prisoner and then dropped off on a neutral world.”
The heavy alien head hung low. “You recount the past, well, human. Is there anything else?”
“You spoke to the human commander. You learned that his ship was in the initial attack on Ghornath Prime. You learned that his ship helped to destroy the defenses that opened your world to attack. Even then you didn’t jettison him or his crew into space. You treated honorably a foe who deserved none.” Lucius said the last with sadness at the man he had been. It had taken him years to erase the anger and bitterness about his past and how the Fleet had treated him. Even now, Lucius thought, there's a part of me that is grateful that I have an opportunity to prove my worth.
“And the wheel has turned, I see.” The alien stared at him for a long time. “You are Lucius Giovanni, then? Has the wheel turned so far that you are now the fleeing refugee?”
Lucius started, jerked out of the past. “I am Baron Lucius Giovanni, Captain of the Nova Roma Imperial Warship War Shrike.” His response came automatically, an echo of the past. “I was once your prisoner, and now, you are mine. I hope you will be a better prisoner than I was.”
“But a prisoner, nonetheless, correct?” The alien showed no expression.
“For now. My men are trying to find out what happened. Some of your people on the bridge opened fire on them when they boarded. They returned fire and they found you confined near the bridge—”
“Those weren’t my crew... not anymore.” Strike Leader Maygar growled, anger flushed his face with color. His skin color fluoresced red as rage flooded him. “They mutinied, out of false declarations of honor. They abandoned hope, and they betrayed me and their people.”
“So it is a mutiny.” Lucius murmured, shaking his head. “What happened?”
The Ghornath regained control immediately. “I must know, are we enemies?”
The question had deeper meaning than the immediate situation. The war with the Ghornath had not ended. The Imperial Fleet still had shoot-on-sight orders for a number of Ghornath 'terrorists.’ Lucius knew for a fact that Strike Leader Maygar lay near the top of that list. To disregard that order meant a far more direct mode of treason than his earlier actions. “The Gebneyr acted as a raider for the past twenty years. You are confirmed in the destruction of over fifty ships of the Empire.”
“The number lies closer to a hundred.” There was no denying the pride in Magyar’s voice. As well he should, without a base of operations, with no resupply besides what he took off of Roma Nova merchant ships or military vessels, he had continued to fight a war that others had already written off as lost.
“Yet… the Nova Roma Empire has… fallen.” Lucius found the words bitter in his mouth. “A true warrior once taught me that when all else is lost, a warrior has only his honor.”
“A bit naïve, but true.”
Lucius smiled a bit, “I am not your enemy, Strike Leader. Not now and hopefully never again.” He sighed, “I think we are in similar circumstances. Right now, however, I have the ability to help you. I have a company of Marines, and the facilities to help repair your ship.”
The silver eyes stared at him for a long moment, and then the Ghornath spoke. His voice was emotionless, but a blue-tinge of sorrow came to his brown hide, “My ship came to this system seeking a rumor of a refugee ship that had come to this area. We found this moon, and then an inhabited world. The humans there call it Faraday.”
Lucius had to interrupt, “There’s an inhabited world here?”
“Yes... unfortunately.” The Ghornath’s coloring switched to a brilliant crimson, “They told us the ship was damaged, but that they’d sent it away anyway, after allowing them to make some repairs.” His skin practically glowed with anger, “They fired on us when we insisted they give us more information.”
Lucius waited, watching the Ghornath’s skin darken back to a neutral brown.
“It was… unexpected. They didn’t have much of a defense force. They claimed to be an Imperial world, but they did not show any of the known ship classes, just older warships, crudely made and armed. Even so, they caused much damage to my ship. We did not have weapons armed or defense screens raised. My crew was not even in suits.” The Ghornath’s skin turned a deep blue of sorrow. “It was an act of treachery.
One that many of my crew believed deserved retribution. I believed differently, I thought it was more important we discovered the refugee ship before its systems succumbed and more of our people were lost.”
“So they mutinied?” Lucius asked, shock in his voice.
“It was merely an excuse for some.” The dark blue skin lingered, as the alien remembered the past. “We have done some damage to our enemies. We have even had our victories,” the Ghornath mirrored a human smile, his shark-like triangular teeth glinting in the light, “But for some, the loss of our world struck too deep a blow. There are a handful of refugee colonies, but their defenses lay in their own pitiful squalor. They are not worth eradication. Even the Chxor often ignore our enclaves in their expansion. We pick at the scraps of other races and we barely survive.”
“They wanted to return and destroy the cities from orbit. Nearly a quarter of the ship mutinied. They seized the armory and the bridge before I knew what was happening. I had only seconds, so I ordered our engineers to destroy the reactors.”
Lucius winced, “You had to know that was a death sentence for all on-board.”
The alien nodded, “We had already taken orbit over this moon. I had hoped that many would abandon the ship, and survive below. The loyal crew did descend. Some stayed to fight the mutineers.”
“And the two groups have turned the Gebneyr into a charnel house.” Lucius shook his head, “I hope many took refuge on the planet below. We’re finding less than thirty life signs remaining on the ship.”
The alien hung his head again, “Then my crew are dead and I have failed them.”
“You have not failed them, Maygar.” Lucius said, his voice firm. “You helped me once. I will help you now. I need your help now,” Lucius stood, hands clasped behind him, “Tell my men how to identify your loyal crew, so we don’t shoot them. Tell your people not to fight mine.”
“And then what?” Maygar stared at Lucius for a moment in silence, his stiff face and brown skin showing no sign of emotion, “Then we will be allies?”