Deliverers (The Chaos Shift Cycle Book 4)

by TR Cameron

  Cross opened his mouth to reply, then shut it without answering, which made both older men laugh at his expense once more.

  He saw their eyes flick up over his head. "Gentlemen," said Admiral James Okoye, before circling to shake hands with both Dima and Jannik. "Chief," he said, gripping the other man's forearm with his off hand, "it’s a pleasure to see you. I hope you're taking care of my ship."

  Jannik laughed. "Always, Admiral. And, I guess I need to remind you, as usual, that she's my ship." The two men laughed, and Cross figured that Okoye would ignore him once again.

  Instead, Okoye turned to him and stuck out his hand. "Commander Cross."

  Cross reached out in perfect imitation of Okoye's reluctant stance, not understanding the man's distance. Okoye gripped his hand, hard, and gave him a nod before he released it and turned to join another admiral at the bar.

  The three men sat again, and Cross shook his head. "I don’t know what I did to tick that man off, but I must have done something. He hasn't been this cold to me since—"

  Cross didn’t finish the sentence, not wanting to invoke the memory of the Gagarin for fear of bringing more bad luck upon them all.

  "All isn’t always as it seems," said Jannik, turning his hand slightly so that Cross could see the data chip Okoye had passed to him under cover of the handshake.

  The men finished their game and their drinks, so as to not arouse suspicion, then headed for the door. As one, their comm units signaled. Cross checked his to discover that he was being summoned back to the Washington, which had orders to deploy immediately. He met Dima's eyes, and the older man nodded to confirm he’d received similar instructions. Cross reached out to grip his hand and said, "Stay in touch?" The innocent question was a much deeper request that the two ships should communicate on the private equipment Dima had provided.

  "Absolutely," Captain First Rank Dima Petryaev replied. "Good hunting, Commander, Chief," he said with a nod.

  "Same to you, Captain," Cross answered.

  The growing sensation that they were prey, not hunters, increased with each passing second as he and Jannik ran to get the Washington underway.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cross was once again at the engineering display table, drinking tea and sitting across from Jannik. Displayed between them were the contents of the data chip that Okoye had provided. It showed a series of communications that had a great deal of missing information, clearly redacted by someone along the line. In essence, it was a counter-opinion to the admiralty's decision. It analyzed in significant detail the possibility that the aliens were planning the next battle as a diversion, and might not appear at all but would instead "hop" to a different sector.

  Cross wondered if this was the fruit born from the seed planted by Kate and her long-ago meeting with her mother after their theft of data from the Xroeshyn gunship.

  "It identifies the three most likely targets," Jannik said.

  "What are they?"

  "Starbase 6, Starbase 4, and AAN Starbase C."

  "Those are a good distance behind the forward line we are creating," Cross observed in a neutral tone.

  "Aye, they are," Jannik confirmed. "And it's going to mess us up right quick if they do somehow run away and jump into these relatively unprotected bases."

  "I suppose it's too much to hope that the Admiralty has hedged its bets and has a defense force at these locations."

  Jannik shrugged. "That information isn’t contained in what Okoye provided. Thus, we must assume it doesn't exist."

  "This is not a good development."

  "Understatement of the year, my boy. It's the old question: what if you show up for a battle and the enemy isn't there?"

  Cross shook his head. "Those tracker ships really expand the strategic possibilities. I still wish I understood how they did that."

  "We don't need to know how they work to assume that they work," the engineer replied. "Though it frosts my nether regions not to own the secrets of those little bastards."

  A light blinked in one corner of the display, and Jannik tapped it. An image of Dima Petryaev appeared, filled with static and green, showing what had to be his personal quarters behind him. Both Cross and Jannik considered it remarkable that the AAN had developed a way to communicate in real time while in wormhole transit, and were thankful for what they could get.

  "What news?" Cross asked.

  "My squadron has been ordered to participate in the next battle, as expected."

  "Take a look at this," he said, and nodded at Jannik. The chief engineer hit the requisite commands, and soon the redacted file was in Dima’s hands. One more act of treason to add to the long list, Cross thought.

  The older man took several minutes to review the information, then looked up in concern. "I cannot say this comes as a surprise, but it is nonetheless an alarming proposition."

  "Agreed," said Cross. "What can we do about it?"

  Dima stroked his chin and sipped from the mug that was ever-present at his side. "First, we cannot fail to participate in the upcoming battle. If it is as the admirals expect, they are going to need our strength."

  "True."

  "So, we must plan a move or two further ahead. What will tell us that things are not as they seem?"

  Cross smiled at the teaching tone that again entered the other man's voice. "Well," he replied, "I imagine we would know it was a feint if we arrived and there were fewer forces than expected in the sector."

  Dima and Jannik both nodded.

  "Let's say we arrive and all the anticipated forces are there. What would be our clue then?"

  Cross frowned. "I can't imagine what that might look like. There are too many variables. I guess that is something we would need to figure out on the fly."

  Now it was Dima’s turn to frown. "As much as I dislike it, you are correct that we cannot make plans with any certainty." He paused, then looked down at the document, seemingly lost in thought for a moment.

  "So, the next question is, what should we do if we conclude a trap has been sprung?"

  "If it is a feint," replied Jannik, "then there is another objective. The only information we possess suggests that this must be one of these three bases."

  "Can we trust this information?" Cross asked in frustration. "I mean, really, who knows what the damned aliens are going to do?"

  Dima was shaking his head. "We cannot afford to think that way. We only have the data we have, and while we should not trust it without question, we also cannot reject the possibilities it suggests.”

  "So, we're back to where we always are: hope for the best, but plan for the worst."

  "And these bastards' worst is pretty terrible," Jannik agreed.

  "The question remains. There are three objectives they may be after. How do we intervene?"

  "My one ship and your eight are probably not enough for this endeavor, Dima."

  "I agree," the older man said with a nod.

  "We will have to work our contacts and find some equally disobedient commanders willing to follow us."

  "My squadron will obey my orders, and I believe I can convince several others."

  Cross laughed. "Well, as you already know, I'm not the best at making friends. But between the Chief and I, we can probably come up with a few more who might not think we're completely crazy." Jannik clapped him on the arm in a sign of affirmation.

  "Okay, what then?" Cross asked.

  "Since we have three targets, it makes sense that we should split our forces three ways. We can send one-third of our collected conspirators directly to each of the Starbases on the chip."

  "Not multiple jumps?"

  "We would lose too much time if we maintained that protocol in this situation," Dima responded.

  Cross looked over, and Jannik was frowning. "Chief?" He asked.

  "What if this is a double-bind?"

  Cross frowned. "Explain."

  "Let's imagine that the birdies are more clever than we think they are. They make this seem like
a trap so we will react as if it is one.”

  "Okay," Cross said.

  "What if what they really want to do is to follow us back to the bases we are so quick to protect?"

  Cross slammed a fist down on the table. "It never ends."

  "Calm, Commander," Dima responded. "The solution is before us. We will maintain the plan to do a single jump to the bases, but leave a fourth of our forces in the system specifically to destroy tracer ships."

  Cross frowned, but nodded.

  "Okay, so that solves one problem," Jannik said. "But let's pretend that the feather heads are exceptionally clever." Cross thought Jannik was enjoying coming up with names for the aliens as much as he was thinking through the problems. "What if they hop out, then hop right back in?"

  "Hmm," Cross said.

  "That does not fit the pattern of what they have done so far," Dima said, "but you are correct, it is a possibility."

  "How about we let the state of the battle determine our response?" Cross said. The other two looked at him expectantly. "If the Starbase has been lost, we proceed as planned. If the Starbase is still viable, we send only half of each group. The others will stay in the sector until they find confirmation one way or the other."

  They nodded. "It's not a great plan, but I think it's the best we're going to get," said Jannik.

  Cross leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I don't know about you, but I’m incredibly sick and tired of just responding to what these bastards do."

  Dima's scratchy signal had one last dose of wisdom to provide. "They have the edge right now. That doesn't mean they will always have it. We need to play the game close enough to stay engaged, and far enough away to be safe, until the pivot moment comes. When it does, the path to the endgame will become clear and we can turn the tables on them. When that critical time arrives, the UAL and the AAN together will show them the difference between a defensive-minded force and one that is coming for blood."

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Fan out," Kate said, stepping forward into the void.

  Behind her, her team peeled off in each direction, rifles at the ready.

  Their lights carved beams into the darkness, revealing a series of pod-like beds arranged around the periphery of the ground chamber. They gathered in the center, each of them turning to look around the room. Above them hung equipment of unknown purpose, with cables connecting down into the pods.

  With a hissing noise, the doors they had just entered through slid shut.

  "Pandora?"

  "One moment please, Commander. The base is resisting my efforts to control its subsystems."

  The door shifted partway open, then stopped. Kate marched over to the opening and paused before it as the door quivered slightly.

  "Pandora, are our rifles strong enough to withstand the pressure of this door?"

  "There is a ninety percent probability that they will, Commander."

  "Adequate," Kate responded, and shoved her rifle between the doors as a wedge.

  She drew her sidearm and returned to the center of the room. "Has anyone found the lights?"

  At her words the illumination increased, going from full dark to merely dim. In the relative brightness, Kate discerned a variation in the covering of the pods. She walked in between two of them, and could gaze down through a small transparent portion at the top and see the being encased within.

  Its skin shimmered in a variety of hues as she watched, but otherwise it resembled a more masculine version of Pandora. It had pointed ears, long strands of what looked like hair, and a regal, aquiline face. Aside from the changing colorscape, it might have been a statue.

  "Are they alive?" Diaz asked.

  "They are kept in stasis through the application of a gravitational anomaly," Pandora replied.

  "Well, that clears it up," he responded, drawing laughter from members of the team.

  "They are not as far from consciousness as the records indicate they should be, however."

  Kate looked up from the being with a frown. "Can you say that a different way, Pandora?"

  "To put it in more accessible terms, Commander, they are not as fully asleep as they should be. Whether they are in the process of deepening their sleep, or of lessening their sleep, is unknown.

  "That does not fill me with confidence."

  The ship did not respond. Kate walked around, examining several of the other coffin-like containers. Winstel yelled a muttered curse that was followed by a crashing noise, and Kate dropped into a crouch, her pistol pointed at that area of the room.

  "It's fine, Commander. I just tripped over something."

  At first, she thought it was the adrenaline, but then she realized that the room was in fact getting brighter. All around the walls, sensors were coming to life and showing displays of unintelligible information. An audible hum began from the equipment overhead. They heard a creak from the doorway, and Kate saw that the doors were straining to close on the rifle that preserved their avenue of escape.

  "Everybody out, now," she said, bolting for the door. One by one they ran and jumped through the opening while the rifle trembled to hold it open around them. By the time they had all left the room, the rifle was bending, a definite curve taking shape.

  "Commander, the base is responding to the incursion." Illumination was increasing in the corridors as they fled.

  "Head for the ship," Kate commanded, and led her team at a run along the path Pandora provided in her display.

  "Shut off whatever accesses you can, Pandora. Try to clear the area to the exit."

  "Yes, Commander."

  They barreled around a corner and were almost at their destination when a phalanx of sentry robots filled the corridor before them. The enemies fired, and Kate barely had time to shout a warning before a bulkhead door dropped, cutting them off from the sentries.

  "Please enter the chamber to your left, Commander, then go straight for ten meters. You will need to break through that wall."

  "Got it," Kate said, and led her team to the designated location.

  Diaz, who also loved explosives, outlined an opening with plasmacord and fired it. Their helmets shielded them from the brilliance of the blaze, and when the burn had finished a deep gouge had been cut in the bulkhead. He kicked in the center, but the bulkhead refused to release. Diaz cursed and dug into his pack again.

  Soon a second line of plasmacord was in place, pushed into the depression left by the first. He fired that one, and then delivered a running kick to the panel. This time it moved slightly, and the combined efforts of the team bludgeoning the piece were able to dislodge it.

  As they stepped outside the base, their gravity boots activated, and they turned until they were oriented on the Pandora. They ran toward the ship, and the hatch they had originally entered the base through opened and discharged the sentries they had been hoping to avoid.

  "Open fire," Kate said, and they all dropped prone to unload at the heads of the security robots. Again, the blast shields came up, and they were able to deflect the incoming damage. By accident or design, the sentries already had their blades deployed and moved toward the humans to use them rather than engaging them with weapons from afar. With a melee blocker down, Kate designated one other, plus herself, so they had three to meet the oncoming assault. As the knives curved in, she blocked with her forearm, and her combat armor stopped the blade with sparks and a grinding scrape. The rest of the team shot at the robots, but the continuing blast shielding defeated their weapons.

  "Circle around, see if they are guarded from the back," Kate said between gasping breaths as she fought off each of the blades as they came at her. The battle was exhausting, between fighting the resistance of the gravity boots in order to block with her shins, and moving quickly enough to avoid the most damaging cuts. She wished she could just crawl up in a little protective ball, but knew that would only permit the enemy to disengage and attack one of her people.

  "If we shoot from behind we might hit you, Commander," yelle
d Winstel.

  "If you don't, we're going to lose, anyway. Take the shot."

  They did, and the first robot was decapitated. An instant later though, protective barriers flickered to life on the rear of the robots, and the other pair refused to go down.

  During the fight, Kate jumped and keenly felt the uncertain gravity of the installation. She triggered her gravity boots to pull her back down before she got too far away, and was inspired. At her opponent's next assault, she blocked outward and stepped into the machine to grab two of its arms. She launched herself backward and tucked her legs against the enemy's chest as they fell together. When impact with the ground gave her leverage, she kicked hard and released its arms, blocking cross-strikes from its blades as she flung it away from her.

  The robot spun lazily as it was propelled toward space. One of its blades folded inward, and he retrieved a strange pistol from somewhere on its body. The mechanoid used it to shoot a tether into the soil, but Kate severed it with a shot from her sidearm before it could reel itself in. It added weapons fire to distract her as it fired another tether, but she was able to avoid the attack and still eliminate its connection to the surface. Diaz replicated Kate's solution, and soon the alien robots were sailing into space, firing ineffectively at the scrambling humans as they tumbled away.

  By the time they finally reached the ship, they were all exhausted, and several of them had wounds of varying degrees of severity. As the airlock doors closed, Kate saw more sentinels emerging.

  "Pandora?"

  "Yes, Commander."

  "Do what it takes to protect the ship and get us out of here soon as possible."

  "Yes, Commander."

  Kate had the satisfaction of watching on the display as Pandora's weapons swiveled to target the robots and overpowered their shields with blasts from her plasma cannons. The robots melted in place as the Pandora departed from the hidden base along a vector that would keep her safe from missile launches. Kate slumped to the floor in exhaustion with the pleasant image of melting metal swimming in her eyes.