“We can remedy that later if you’d like.”
She smiled. “I’ll do whatever works for you, but I must tell you that my mechanical aptitude is not high.”
“Perhaps not, but anyone who was allowed to stay on Rrestriss for seven years has demonstrated an ability to learn.” He bowed, then excused himself and went into the net. The fighter exited the cruiser, then headed back toward the far fringes of the system. Their assigned position would permit them to jump into hyperspace instantly if they felt threatened.
Krys had nothing to do, so she just observed. To her, it looked like no one was doing anything. The six crewmembers just seemed to lounge, though she knew their duties within the net were anything but simple. Stven must have remembered she was there, because a forward screen suddenly shifted to a new view. She didn’t understand all the symbols, but she was able to identify Admiral Jast’s three squadrons and the fifteen Chessori ships headed toward him.
As she considered the display, doubt seeped into her. Jast had three squadrons of 14 ships each. Surely 15 Chessori ships would not engage 42 Empire ships. They wouldn’t have a chance. Had she made a fool of herself with her concerns?
She must have. She had gotten carried away with this Seer business, so much so that she wondered if the whole fleet had been sent here without purpose. Then she remembered the wreckage of ships near the planet. Jast believed they might be Empire ships, and he was concerned enough to take her seriously. She hoped fervently that he was wrong, that she would have some making up to do with him.
Lieutenant Stven and Tarn came out of the net together after they were established on course. “Who’s driving?” she asked Captain Stven.
“We have two pilots including myself, and Ensign Lukes is fully qualified, as well. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you. Shall we get you settled?”
She nodded and followed them to crew quarters. Fighters occasionally carried special passengers, and there was an extra room for just that purpose. She and Tarn both stowed their belongings in their quarters and returned to the bridge. Little had changed. Indeed, little would change for the next week. The fighter reached its assigned position and just waited there to see what developed.
As Admiral Jast approached the oncoming Chessori ships, he opened a tightbeam to Stven and sent a continuously running display of his main screen. Additionally, the voice of a communications officer broke in from time to time with comments concerning the fleet’s tactics. Everything was recorded aboard the fighter just in case the worst actually happened.
The Chessori slowed, then turned back toward Dorwall. Jast, too, reduced speed in an effort to reduce any implied threat, but still days out from the planet he advised Lieutenant Stven that the debris orbiting Dorwall did, indeed, appear to be the remains of Empire ships. By the following day his scanners had confirmed the remains of two Empire frigates on the planet’s surface as well. His sensors were focused on determining if any life forms remained aboard the destroyed ships. The Chessori still refused to communicate with him, and until they did, he was treating the destruction of the treaty mission as an act of war. Any attempt to stop his inspection of the ships’ remains would be suppressed with force.
He searched desperately for Resolve or its remains, but none of the identifiable carcasses matched properly. He continued inbound, ordering his ships from a line abreast configuration to a v-shaped pattern with his own ship at the forefront. As soon as he did, the Chessori abandoned their retreat and turned back toward him, deploying into three groups of five ships headed for each Empire squadron.
Jast inverted his v-formation by pulling his own squadron back. The calm voice of the communications officer informed Stven that Jast’s other two squadrons would engage the Chessori first, thereby providing him the opportunity to study their tactics and weapons.
Jast’s first two squadrons fired warning shots as the fleets neared each other, but before they merged, the Empire ships stopped firing for some reason. The tightbeam from Jast’s cruiser continued relaying its view, but the voice accompanying it ceased speaking.
The crew aboard the fighter was fully in the net, and Stven had his own sensors set to highest magnification. What he observed over the next hours both stunned and alarmed him. The Chessori ships enfolded each squadron without retaliation, then began pounding away at the smallest ships. There was no return fire, and those small ships were gone within the hour. A large Chessori ship in each contingent attached a tractor beam to a cruiser, then began a labored effort to drag the cruiser somewhere.
Krys did not understand the symbology on the screen, but she understood there was a problem. Why wasn’t Jast fighting back? Within the net on the fighter, the crew was not only angry, they were perplexed, but all they could do was observe and surmise, all to little effect.
When the last fighter fell, Tarn approached Stven within the net. “Clearly, their guns are useless,” he said. “That means ours are as well. Got any ideas, Captain?”
“None at all. We’ll stay here as ordered, at least until it’s over, then we’ll head for home.”
“May I make a suggestion?”
“Any input is appreciated, Ensign. Nothing here makes sense.”
“The Chessori know we’re here, sir. We’ll have plenty of warning if someone approaches from within the system, but what if someone pops out of hyper right on top of us?”
Stven paused in thought. “Space is a big place, Ensign. The odds of someone coming out of hyper right here are astronomically small, but we can cover both eventualities. We can move while we continue observing. We’ll lose the tightbeam, but it’s not telling us much anyway, not now. Well said, Ensign.”
He commanded the pilot to set a new course, and at top speed. The pilot changed course at random intervals to prevent a plot of their course while Stven prepared the jump settings for an instant jump if needed. With an erratic trajectory and undefined starting point, the jump would take them to an unpredictable location within interstellar space, but it would get them away from here safely.
Several hours later a lone Chessori trader materialized from hyperspace near their original location. Stven did not hesitate. He executed the jump, then he and the pilot quickly executed several more jumps before placing the ship on a homeward trajectory. Everyone but the pilot left the net, dazed at what they had observed during the past hours.
Stven’s neck drooped. “Three squadrons taken with barely a shot. Before today I would have said it was impossible.”
Tarn, too, was at a loss, but he had learned to consider each word of his orders. He wasn’t sure they were done at Dorwall. “Let’s go back,” he suggested.
A puff of smoke escaped from each of Stven’s nostrils. Ordinarily, he would have been mortified, but in this case he didn’t care. His focus was the mission. Everyone else soon found themselves fanning the air with their hands. “We can’t risk capture or destruction,” he said, as he considered. “On the other hand, Admiral Chandrajuski needs to know what happened here, and we’re the only ones left to tell him.”
“Agreed, sir. If we go back, the Chessori can’t possibly know where we’d come out of hyper. We can make sure it’s light minutes from any activity. We might learn more.”
Stven’s purple eyes stared hard at Tarn while he considered. “They’ve got some kind of weapon that neutralizes ships. We don’t know its range.”
“It may neutralize people as well,” Tarn added. “We lost the audio from the cruiser. It was as if no one was left alive.”
“Return is risky,” Stven said. He focused his gaze on each of them, Krys last. “And you, My Lady? You have special value to someone or you would not be here. Is your value something that cannot be risked?”
“I barely understand what’s happened,” she replied. “Has our mission to rescue Daughter ended?”
“It has. The Chessori defeated Admiral Jast. They are, as we speak, destroying the remains of his fleet. Our mission now is two-fold: return you to Admiral Chandrajuski,
and bring back as much knowledge of what has transpired here as we can.”
“I have reason to believe that Daughter escaped from here,” she said. “I believe she remains in danger, but I have no idea how to help her. I agree that any knowledge you can bring back to the admiral is to everyone’s benefit. If the risk of returning to Dorwall is acceptable to you, it is acceptable to me, as well.”
Stven did not hesitate. He turned to Tarn. “We don’t know that our weapons are useless. If you see anyone out there at all, open fire at maximum possible range.”
“Aye, sir.”
They went back into the net. Half a day elapsed before they materialized within the fringes of Dorwall’s system, and they did so far away from their previous position and well above the plane of the ecliptic. Nearby space was empty of other ships. Stven had his sensors ready to go and set the recorders in operation immediately. They were so far out that it was difficult to discern what they were seeing, but he recorded anyway. After some twenty minutes, he jumped away.
They repeated the process several times during the next few days until he was convinced that all the Empire ships were lost. Then Stven jumped away and headed for Centauri III.
They’d been gone for two months, and it would be a long three weeks of jumping until they reached normal space around Centauri III. Then, it would be another three weeks until they reached port. It was a sad and chastened crew that set course for home.
Stven spent hours in the net reviewing the sensor recordings, but he learned little. He believed it would take experts to decipher what had happened. He, Tarn, and Krys met for dinner in the tiny mess, but conversation was a struggle. Everyone was still trying to untangle events at Dorwall.
“Did you get anything from the recordings?” Tarn asked.
“Darn little. It looked like they gave up on the tractor beam. Cruisers and frigates are far too large to maneuver that way.”
“It’s pretty hard to kill a frigate, let alone a cruiser. They’ll be at it for days. I wonder if anyone is alive on our ships?”
A puff escaped from one of Stven’s nostrils. This time he was mortified. “Oh, sorry!”
Krys had been through it before, though not often. Her time on Rrestriss had been under much, much more sedate conditions. The Rress there were seldom stressed like this. She looked at Stven. “I’m not much on orbital mechanics and such, but you say they used the tractor beam on the cruisers, then switched to the frigates? And these ships are very hard to destroy?”
Stven’s long neck moved his head gracefully up and down in a nod. “Then they just gave up on all of them. The fighters were destroyed days ago.”
Krys looked to Tarn and discovered him studying her. He’d been around her enough to know that something was on her mind. “Like I said, I’m not much on mechanics, but I’m pretty good with people issues.” She paused, then said softly, “What if they didn’t give up on the big ships?”
Stven peered at her. “My Lady?”
“I’m not ‘My Lady.’ I’m Krys. Got it?” The long neck nodded again. “What if they only wanted to change the trajectories of the ships? What if they succeeded with the cruisers, then moved on to the frigates. Could they have captured them for study?”
A puff escaped from each nostril this time, and Tarn’s chair crashed over as he jumped to his feet. The two officers stared at each other, then at her, then they just took off for the bridge. They returned an hour later.
“Well?” she said as they joined her with solemn looks.
“They’re on course to crash into a moon. All of them,” Tarn spit out.
“Gods!” Stven’s fist hit the table hard. “I hope the crews don’t know what’s happening.”
The crew of the fighter was a wreck. The only ones with anything to do were Stven and the pilot as they rotated shifts and calculated jump after jump. It wasn’t long before Tarn was assigned a shift as well. Krys found it impossible to concentrate on her studies, but she continued her normal routine of meditation, a life saver in times of turmoil. She even got Tarn to try it, bringing laughter to the surface for both of them as he struggled through the required exercises. She thought he’d give up, but he didn’t, and both of them enjoyed the time together. His spirits rose a little, but the rest of the crew continued struggling with internal feelings, and they were losing the struggle.
She couldn’t stand it any longer, so she called Stven to the crew mess. He arrived quickly, concerned that something had happened.
“You’re captain of this boat,” she said. “You have a morale problem.”
Stven’s body sunk to the floor, his long tail curling up beside him as his neck lowered in shame. “I know. It’s not my finest hour. I suppose I should do something. We’re supposed to be running battle drills from time to time, but it just seems like too much effort. My apologies, Krys. Thank you for reminding me.”
“And I can just imagine the drills,” she said. “Pretty desultory. How about something different for a change?”
“What did you have in mind?” he asked guardedly.
Tarn wandered in and joined them. At her words, a stricken look filled his face. “No knitting lessons,” he pleaded. “And I’ve already done my stretches for the day.”
“Only once. We’ll move to twice a day starting tomorrow, but I have something else in mind. Want to teach me to fly, or maybe how to shoot?”
Two sets of eyes opened wide. Stven’s neck swung toward Tarn, and their gazes locked.
“Did you put her up to this?” Stven demanded.
“No, but we talk while we exercise. She said an offer of some kind was made when she came aboard.”
Stven just rolled his eyes. “She can start with the net, see if it works for her.”
“We’ll have to be careful. We’re in space, and she might not adapt.”
“We can simulate a planet to get started.”
“Guys,” she demanded, “I’m in the room, too. Talk to me, not around me.”
Stven looked at her, and she sensed a trace of interest growing within him. This would surely be a break from routine. “Such a thing is not lightly undertaken, and you’re not an Empire crewmember. Admiral Chandrajuski might skin me alive.”
She smiled. “He will not. I’m officially a Friend of the Royal Family.”
More puffs from Stven, though Tarn already knew. His hand swung lethargically to clear the odor.
“Is that adequate credential?” she asked, waiving at the air as well.
Stven considered her words as he stared at her. “Maybe.”
“It’s more than adequate. Let’s go,” she demanded.
The dragon held up a hand, the claws well sheathed. “Tell me, what were you doing on Rrestriss during those seven years?”
“Going to school.”
“Which school? Can you name any professors?”
“Hmm. You want to know if I am who I say I am.”
“I must, Krys.”
“Very well, though one would think my presence here at Admiral Chandrajuski’s order would be sufficient proof.” From around her neck, she pulled the chain holding the locket Daughter had given her all those years ago. She handed the locket to Stven. “It was given to me by Daughter,” she said. Tarn was ogling the piece, so she took it from Stven and placed it in his hands. He studied it, then returned it to her without comment.
“You, of course, know of Imperial Senator Truax.” Stven nodded, seeming a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I was his ward during those seven years, and his student when his schedule permitted. I lived with him during the first few years.”
The beautiful purple eyes stared at her, but silence prevailed. She looked to Tarn, but he just raised his eyebrows, indicating he did not recognize the implications. When Stven found his voice, he asked with disbelief, “You were the ward of the most revered man among the Rress? How did this come about?”
I’m sorry, Stven, but I’m sworn to secrecy on this matter.”
“Yet it had someth
ing to do with our presence at Dorwall, didn’t it,” he stated.
“It did. By the way,” she added looking at Tarn, “It looks like the outcome has been changed.”
“So far. It’s never far from my thoughts, My Lady.”
In exasperation she said, “I am not My Lady!”
“In that you’re wrong,” Tarn said, standing up, then bowing.
Stven, too, backed away from the table to lower his head and front feet. “I cannot say what will happen once we reach Centauri III, but you’re special. Not just to Daughter. You may call upon my services at any time. And now . . . are you ready for an experience you will never forget?”
“If you’re ready to be a Rress and teach.”
“The AI gets first crack at you, I’m afraid, but Tarn and I won’t be far behind. I think everyone will want to help.”
Chapter Seventeen: Four Hundred Years
Mike felt free of immediate threat for the first time since the Chessori ship had come crashing to Earth. For Otis and Ellie, it was the first moment without fear for many months. They were free of pursuit, finally. They had bought time for themselves, all the time they needed to do things right for a change.
Though everyone had worked hard for this moment, Mike, Jake, and Ellie had born the burden of intense immersion in the net for days on end. Mike collapsed into his bedroll across the bridge and slept for a solid eight hours. Ellie retreated to her room to spend time with Alexis while Otis and Reba maintained a watch.
When he awoke, Mike’s exhaustion remained plain for all to see. Ellie was back in the net when he relieved her, and she looked as bad as he felt. He squeezed her shoulder in thanks as she unplugged, and she responded by putting her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. He would have liked to linger, but her hours out of the net were as important to her as were his. He gently pushed her toward the central shaft. She didn’t object.
Mike absolutely had to remain sharp if they were to reach Gamma VI. Jake, Ellie, Reba, and Otis teamed up against him, insisting that he shift to a lighter schedule for a few days. He agreed to a full ten hours off duty following each jump, and Reba kept a stopwatch on him to force compliance. He knew she was giving Ellie extra time as well, because she always made sure the bridge screens were activated before he left.
Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One) Page 19