by Nick Webb
Brand held onto his armrest as another blast hit the ship. Several Vikorhov frigates had converged on the Indomitable and were unloading all they had.
Trust this stranger to remodulate their lasers? Brand swore softly to himself. “Tactical, make the modifications our guest suggested, and fire when ready.”
Bernoulli dusted off his uniform. “I realized that all their temporal shielding must be is a localized gravitic field with a polarity modulated in such a way that the phase shift between the real and imaginary parts of the quantum field equation governing the array emitters is most likely balanced by an anti-hermitian—”
“In English, Commander,” said Brand, tapping his console to send off a few more commands to his fleet.
“In English,” Bernoulli paused, thinking, “your lasers have a group velocity—the speed at which information, and therefore energy is transferred. It also has a phase velocity—the speed which the individual wavefronts move forward within the overall wave packet of the laser beam. I realized that if we reverse the phase velocity to be negative—that is, coming backwards instead of forwards—it’ll …” he paused, muttering something about translating for ignorant laypeople. “It’ll fuck with their field.”
Brand nodded. “Fine. When’s it ready?”
Another rumble. The lights flared as a power surge arced through the ship and the bridge fell into darkness before the auxiliary lighting kicked in.
“Now, sir,” said the tactical officer.
“Fire.”
***
“And?” said Jake, once they’d escaped to the privacy of the other end of the brig. He’d motioned for Ben to come with him and Valkyrie, while Anya and Avery were still assessing the state of the Phoenix prisoners, and just moments ago he’d heard from the other two boarding teams. The onboard battle had gone well, but team two reported three marines lost in an ambush.
And the battle outside the ship was faring worse. Brand lost one of his ships. One that was transporting four Phoenix crew members from Oberon to the ship.
That’s seven. Seven more bodies.
Lieutenant Valkyrie grabbed hold of the wall as the deck shook with the latest impact from the Vikorhov Federation assault. Jake reached out an arm to steady her. “Captain, I didn’t get much time to conduct the investigation before the 51st brigade took over, but what I can tell you is disturbing.”
“Yes?”
“All three explosions were caused by intentional overloads in the various power systems where they occurred. For example, the one a few days ago that you and Commander Jemez were caught in was due to a power buildup of the auxiliary capacitor banks in engineering.”
Ben scowled. “Bernoulli said that it was only a by-product of his work on the recrystallization of the gravitic engines.”
She shook her head. “It was made to appear that way, yes. But whoever did it was either incredibly lucky, or knew what they were doing. The bypass they used can only be employed by someone with executive security access. That includes you, Commander Po,” she inclined her head towards Ben, “and Commander Jemez. No one else on board possesses that level of credentials.”
Jake and Ben looked at each other, and Jake caught just a hint of of suspicion in his friend’s eyes.
Jakes eyes narrowed. “No, but we do have a guest who might.”
Ben cocked his head. “You think it’s Galba?”
“I don’t know, but at this point it’s the most likely explanation. Neither of us did it, and we can both vouch for Po.”
“But why would the head of the Senate Truth and Reconciliation Committee try to sabotage our ship?” Ben waved his arms, looking skeptical.
“He’s still a Corsican Senator, Ben, as much as he claims to be a friend of Earth. I have no idea why he’d try such a suicidal move, but for now it’s all we got.”
“Ok,” said Ben. “Now what?”
“Now,” began Jake, starting to walk back to the brig’s command center, “we give Tomaga exactly what he wants.”
“And that is?”
“Ling’s murderer.”
***
Now’s your chance!
The voice in Ben’s head willed him, implored him, begged him to act. Jake walked away down the corridor back to the brig’s command center and Ben followed him but only with his eyes.
He rose his assault rifle. Aimed it at Jake’s back.
“Commander?”
Ben jumped. Lieutenant Valkyrie looked him up and down. “You about to teach the cap’n a lesson he won’t forget?”
He forced a laugh. “Heh. Something like that. Nah, just imagining putting a bullet in Tomaga’s head. You know, for all the shit that’s gone on today. Good men and women dying and all that.”
Valkyrie nodded slowly, but still unsure what to make of Ben’s raised rifle. With a smile, he lowered it.
“Yeah, I guess,” she said.
He gave a two fingered salute and pointed down the corridor. “Excellent work, Lieutenant. Your report. Very valuable.” He indicated forward and started after Jake. “Shall we?” She followed.
Later. He’d make his move later.
And then maybe the ship could have its rightful captain after all.
CHAPTER NINE
BRAND WATCHED IN DISMAY AS the Sword exploded under the onslaught of the Vikorhov fleet, and he pounded his armrest. “Dammit!” He looked back at tactical. “Where the hell are those lasers?”
The tactical officer’s hands raced over his console. “The mods that our guest suggested are wreaking havoc with our phase array, sir. Trying to compensate.”
Bernoulli sprang to his feet. “Well did you alternate the polarity of the quantum transducers? That’s the only way you’re going to get the phase array to take the load!” He pressed a few buttons on the tactical console, seemingly knowing automatically the layout of the board, and within seconds he nodded. “There.”
The tactical officer held up his hands in an I have no idea what he just did expression, and Brand muttered. “Fine. Fire again.”
He watched the viewscreen. This time the green and blue shimmering beams blasted out and pounded right into the nearest Vikorhov ship, completely ignoring the temporal shielding, and burning a huge hole in the middle of their port hull. “Take that, you bastards!” He turned back to tactical and nodded to the smiling fire crew, “Fire at will!” Looking at Bernoulli, he said, “You seem to have both a deep understanding of physics, and the layout of foreign tactical computer consoles.”
Bernoulli shrugged. “Meh. It’s a hobby. I also know the layout of the bodies of foreign exotic women. This is not a strange thing, yes?”
***
When they’d all assembled in the command center of the brig on deck three—Jake, Ben, Anya, Avery, Valkyrie, Ayala, Galba, and an assortment of other crew members who’d been imprisoned in the brig along with Valkyrie, Jake took stock.
“Avery? Our other teams report in?”
“They’re both encountering significant resistance up on deck two. Haven’t made it very far in. We’ve lost Traynor and Sintay. Both good marines. They were wearing the Imperator suits too. These things aren’t invincible, you know.”
Jake nodded. “All right. Tell them to keep firing, but hold position. I’m going to give Tomaga a call.”
He reached down to the command console in the center of the room, flipping the comm switch on. “Sergeant Tomaga, this is Captain Mercer. Do you copy?”
Silence. Ayala bent down and examined the data readout.
“Sir, all ship-wide communications have been cut. The computer has locked out access to everyone except for the bridge.” She tapped a few buttons, but shook her head, but then glanced up questioningly at Galba.
He held a hand to his chest. “Me? Oh, of course. I’ll see what I can do.”
Jake watched as the Senator sat down at the console and entered a passcode and presented his hand to the biometric reader embedded in the viewscreen. “Diplomatic access recognized,” said the vaguel
y synthetic voice of the computer console. “Welcome, Senator Galba.”
Galba glanced up and smiled weakly. Jake leaned down to talk. “Can you get us access to the comm now?”
“I believe you have access now, Captain. My diplomatic code gives me access to everything.”
“Everything?” Jake cocked his head.
“Yes, everything. As far as I know. The Emperor, while he trusts his military commanders, has required that every ship be completely accessible and controllable by his inner circle, and the most senior Senators. That would include me, of course….”
“So you can get us access to every Imperial file in the central computer? Nothing off limits?”
“Nothing. But Captain, why? Surely we have more urgent things to worry about right now?” Galba looked uneasily at Jake, and around at the assembled team.
Jake looked over at Ben, who nodded back. Yes, he understood. Galba could get them access to the files they needed. The ones that might help them figure out where the Empire could be holding Admiral Pritchard in the Titanis Sector, and help them contrive a plan for rescue. Station schematics, standard defense levels, access codes … everything.
“You’re right, Senator. But we may need your help later with a few issues we’ve been having with computer access. But first,” he reached down to the comm again, “Sergeant Tomaga, this is Captain Mercer. Please come in.”
A pause, but this time the readout on the screen indicated the message had indeed gone through.
Tomaga’s precise voice came through the speaker. “Captain Mercer, I admit I’m surprised you’re here. Stand down, sir, before you risk the lives of more of your crew.”
Jake suppressed his anger, trying at all costs to maintain control. If he lost it, he might blow his chance to put a stop to the killing. “Sergeant, need I remind you that it is you, not I, who has drawn blood today. You’ve hijacked my ship, and stolen—”
“No, Captain, it is not I, but you who has drawn first blood. I’m sworn to protect my men, Captain, but one of them lies dead in the morgue, now rotting for five days. Private Ling. Perhaps you’ve already forgotten?”
“No, Sergeant, I have not forgotten. In fact, the last time we spoke I had promised to conduct an investigation. I’m calling to inform you that the investigation is complete.”
Jake let the silence hang in the air for a moment as Tomaga processed the words. “Complete? And?”
He looked up at Galba. “We have Ling’s killer right here. Would you like to have him? I’ll bring him to you.”
Silence again, interrupted by Galba beginning to fuss. “Why, I’ve never heard such rub—” he began, before Anya reached her arm around his head and clamped a hand firmly on his mouth. He struggled against her iron Imperator suit-assisted grip, but gave up when he realized it was hopeless.
“If this is a trick….” Tomaga sounded skeptical.
“No trick. In fact, you’ll be interested to know that Ling’s killer is none other than a member of the Imperial Senate who managed to hide aboard our ship for the past three weeks. It was only now, with your bold move to right your injustice, that he’s been flushed out. I commend you, Sergeant.”
More silence, as Tomaga considered Jake’s words. “Very well. Bring him here to the bridge. Come alone.”
“No,” said Jake. “You know I can’t come alone. I would like to trust you, Tomaga, but you did just take over my ship. I’ll bring a few crew members with me. Expect a party of five: myself, three crew members, and your murderer.”
“Agreed. I’ll tell my men to let you pass. Be at the entrance to the bridge in three minutes. Any longer and I’ll assume it’s a trap. Your time starts now.”
Jake flipped off the comm and glanced up. Galba, looking nervous, started to edge towards the door, but Anya grabbed him again before he could move.
“This is preposterous! I will not tolerate it. You will not deliver me into the hands of a bunch of brigands!” Galba spluttered, and stomped a foot for emphasis.
“You will tolerate it, Senator. You have no choice,” said Jake, checking the magazine of his assault rifle and motioning to the others to get ready.
“But I did not kill that soldier.” Galba let his voice drop to a reasonable level, and let what Jake assumed to be a more senatorial tone show itself. “I assure you, Captain, I had nothing to do with the poor man’s unfortunate death.”
“And unfortunately for you, I don’t believe you. But fortunately for you, I have no intention of letting Tomaga kill you, so relax.” Jake sidled up to Ben and spoke low in his ear. “I mean it. We need him. If Tomaga makes a move …” he looked Ben in the eye, “you know what to do.”
Ben smiled, and glanced down at his rifle. “I do.”
***
Captain Brand hollered orders to his bridge crew. Finally, they had an edge. For once, after so many long years, after an entire lifetime of service to the Sons of Oberon and his world, he watched as the hated Vikorhov ships broke formation in a frantic bee’s nest of flurried activity. And Brand’s ships went among them and blasted two more ships into dust before the enemy began pulling away.
“Woohoo!” Bernoulli called across the bridge. “Look at the itty bitty pansies run!”
Brand grinned, not quite understanding the slang but getting the gist of it. “Fire at will. Make them pay for it.”
After a few minutes it became clear that the Vikorhovs had no interest in sticking around, and all their cruisers were now in full retreat mode.
“Changing course to pursue,” said the navigation officer.
“No. Stick with the Phoenix. She’s the priority. If we follow them that exposes the old bird to surprise attack. There’s no telling what the bastards still have up their sleeve.”
Bernoulli’s face screwed up and he cocked his head at Brand. “You think their commander still has a viable strategy to take the Phoenix?”
Brand shook his head, but frowned. “I’ve learned never to underestimate Commodore Zuleiman’s desperation, his depravity, nor his skill. There’s no telling what he might pull. Best to just get the Phoenix and all the rest of us to the relative safety of orbit around Oberon.”
Bernoulli grunted. “Well if he’s anything like Admiral Trajan, he’ll know when he’s beaten and will try to cut his losses. Come at us another day with more strength.”
“That is what a stable, intelligent fleet commander would do, yes.” Brand nodded. “Commodore Zuleiman, while smart, is most certainly not rational. If he feels humiliated, or cornered, he’ll spill the blood of his people like water to save face.” He grinned at the scientist. “Honestly, I’d rather face your Trajan than the lunatic we have to deal with.”
Bernoulli shrugged. “Well let’s hope you never do.”
CHAPTER TEN
JAKE, BEN, ANYA, AND AVERY, all still clad in their Imperator suit armor, stood around a terrified-looking Galba as they pressed the chime to enter the bridge. In the silence, Jake noticed that the sounds of the battle outside the ship had stopped, leaving them in an almost eery calm before the door to the bridge slid open, revealing a cluster of assault rifles pointed straight at them.
Jake held up a hand, signaling to his people to hold their fire. “Tomaga. We’re here to present to you the culprit. We’ve come in peace. Tell your men to stand down.”
Tomaga, clad in an ASA suit, pushed his way to the front, glared at Jake, then Galba, and waved his men off. “Stand down.” He turned back to Jake. “Please come in, Captain.”
The surviving men of the 51st brigade—at least those manning the bridge, lowered their weapons and stepped aside, revealing a command center that had seen better days. Bullet holes strafed the walls, and there were even a few pits on the front viewscreen.
Ensign Szabo, his face covered with several day’s worth of scruff, sat huddled at the science station. Ensign Minkowski had apparently been conscripted to man the navigation station. Jake wondered where Ensign Falstaff was—the communications officer he’d grown fond o
f over the past few weeks, but there wasn’t time to wonder. Tomaga was gesturing them to the center of the bridge.
Jake caught Avery’s eye—the other man instinctually wanted to remain near the rear of the bridge, behind the tactical octagon for cover should a firefight break out. Jake held a hand out indicating the rest of them stay, but that he’d go to the center of the bridge himself to talk to Tomaga.
But he grabbed Galba’s arm and forced him to walk ahead.
“So. This is the person responsible for Private Ling’s death?”
“I tell you, I had nothing to do—” began Galba, but a quick jab to the back of his head with the butt of Jake’s rifle silenced him.
“Yes. Our investigator believes we have our man. He’s also the one responsible for the unexplained explosions in engineering and the forward section. Care to deny those too, Senator?”
Galba glared icily at the butt of Jake’s rifle, but shook his head with a sneer.
Tomaga sighed, and sat down in the captain’s chair. “Even so, Captain, we’ve arrived at an impasse. Again.” He looked up at Jake and for the first time since Jake could remember, displayed emotion.
He looked sad.
“When we came to our first agreement, I had hope. I had hope that in spite of giving up the fight and therefore becoming personas non gratis in the Empire, that we’d be able to find a place to escape to. A place to call home. For the briefest of moments, I thought the Phoenix might be that home. My crew was meshing well with yours. They trained well together. And when we participated in your rescue, well, I thought that had sealed the deal.”
Tomaga paused, as if gathering his thoughts. “But then Ling was killed, and I realized that we are not your guests. We are not your crew. We are your enemies, and either you, or someone among your crew wanted us all dead. So we had to act. We would either die on our feet fighting you and possibly escape with the prize of a great warship,” he swept his hand around the bridge, “or die one by one, picked off by an assassin’s blade, or otherwise killed silently in the night, and the rest of us waken only to discover our numbers are fewer, and fewer, until finally the last one wakes and wonders if that day will be his last. Do you understand my dilemma, Captain? Why I acted?”