by TR Cameron
Deacon Raanja opened his mouth to respond, but she waved it away. "In any case, at least as concerning as the religious implications are the strategic ones."
He fell silent, thinking, and then said, "This delays our attack on the next base, does it not?"
"It does indeed. By following these orders, we sacrifice the element of surprise we gained in the last battle, and make the loss of the ships in that feint worthless."
"Dare we disobey?"
This question had been at the tip of her mind from the moment she’d received the double punch of the orders. She tapped her chin thoughtfully before replying. "Before this message, I would’ve felt confident that the hierarch would trust my judgment. Now, I’m very far from certain of it."
She stood, her decision made. "I’ll return to the bridge shortly. In the meantime, inform the first to gather the fleet at our secondary staging point." Her religious officer nodded and exited quickly.
Indraat turned and walked to the viewscreen that resembled a porthole in the side of the ship and stared out at the glittering stars and glowing ships around the Ruby Rain. Her mind whirled, and she forced it under control, whispering her constant mantra.
Family, duty, and the gods.
She sighed with the realization that never before had she found the line connecting them so difficult to walk.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It had taken the crew no time at all to get suited up, their excitement over the find driving them to fast action.
"Split up, in pairs. Whichever you choose," Kate ordered.
Several of her team members leapt away on suit rockets, headed for the largest ship in the place. A quick look at her heads-up display showed that Claire Martin was in the lead, and Kate laughed inwardly. Leave it to Claire to go after the biggest and baddest toy of the bunch.
Meanwhile Kate and her partner made their way to a ship similar in size to Pandora. They’d chosen gravitic grapnels to assist them. They shot a thin cord attached to a device that used gravity to attach to the side of the ship. The small motors in their suits winched them quickly over, and Pandora negotiated entry for them.
She stalked through the halls, finding the vessel similar in design to the Pandora, but with a few features notably absent.
"This is an older version of the model of the ship we arrived in?" Kate asked.
"Affirmative, Commander. That is the generation prior to me. Substantial upgrades were put in place after it."
If Kate didn't know better, she would swear that there was a note of pride in Pandora's tone.
"Everything seems in order. I'm guessing that this one is on the obsolete list instead of the wrecked list." They found their way to the bridge, and Kate was able to bring up internal battery power. "Yep, diagnostics report full function."
"Here as well," reported Trey Winstel.
"Which ship are you on?"
"We decided to take a look at one of the smaller ones. It’s most similar to our destroyers, but made to run with far less crew."
"That is correct," confirmed Pandora. "Where possible, the Domeki used technology in place of sentient life."
"So, there is one of you on each ship?" Kate asked.
"Negative, Commander. I am the culmination of research that only came to fruition in the closing days of the war. There are few ships that possess this technology, and it’s entirely unlikely that any of them would be here, unless they’re among the wrecks."
"Gotcha," Kate said.
"Kate, we’re on the big one," said Claire. "It’s smaller than our carriers, but certainly bigger than our cruisers. It doesn’t appear to have fighters, it’s just an absolute behemoth of a war machine. I've never seen broadsides this gigantic."
"Pandora?" Kate asked.
"The most analogous vessel for you, Commander, would be a Dreadnaught. Designed to do major damage while withstanding the same. It’s also reinforced for ramming."
Claire whistled. "Commander?"
"Yes, Lieutenant Commander Martin," Kate replied with an audible grin.
"Can I keep it?"
The channel filled with laughter
"I refuse to commit," Kate said. "Let's see if we can figure out a way to get it home first."
Over the next several hours, they inspected every ship, eventually working solo to cover more ground when they discovered no apparent danger present in the facility.
When their recon was complete, they gathered in the galley to scarf down the Pandora's food supplies and strategize. "How can we do this?" Kate asked. "Ideas welcome." She shoved a forkful of something like noodles into her mouth.
"Repurpose one of the gravitic devices to tow them?" They’d judged that each operational ship likely had at least one working gravity gun. Winstel believed it might be possible to rewire it into a tractor.
"Let's leave that as our ultimate fallback plan," Kate answered. "I hate to think what would happen if we went into the gravity wave, and it somehow influenced the tether."
The others nodded.
"We only take the smaller ships, and crew them with one of us each?" The idea came from Shaun Wickrens, whose missing hand didn’t dampen his enthusiasm.
Claire let out a theatrical moan at the thought of losing her prize and drew a couple of tired laughs. The initial glow of discovery had been replaced by the frustrating realization they’d have to leave most of the ships behind.
"I've got to say," Kate offered with a sigh, "I’m out of ideas on this one. I think we all need to take a rest, and then come back at this when we’re less foggy."
There was general agreement, and they split up to sleep.
When Kate awoke several hours later, it was to find the ship's avatar standing quietly beside her bed, absently tickling the creature she carried under the chin.
"Pandora?"
"Yes, Commander. Did you sleep well?"
Kate struggled to sit up and settled for leaning back on her elbows. "Well enough, but when the war is over I'm going to sleep for at least three weeks straight."
She threw herself forward again and made it to a sitting position this time.
"Do you have something for me? Or do you just enjoy watching me sleep, which would totally not be creepy at all?"
"I believe I have a solution to our problem, Commander."
Kate clapped her hands together. "Tell me."
With a gesture, Pandora activated a display screen. It showed a small circular disk, about a third of a meter high, with readouts and colors warping around the outside.
"And that is?"
"To put it in its simplest terms, Commander, that is me."
"So, Pandora is constructing a bunch of these discs, which contain copies of the program." Kate held her cup of coffee as if it was a lifeline to consciousness.
"All of it?" Claire asked.
Pandora replied "Unfortunately not, Lieutenant Commander Martin. There isn’t enough time, and I don’t have the appropriate materials to construct full iterations. Instead, these are partial versions designed to assist in piloting and fighting the ship, but nothing more."
"So, like a very advanced autopilot," observed Winstel.
"A very apt comparison, Lieutenant Commander."
"How soon can they be ready?" Kate asked.
"Several are in the final phase of manufacturing. If you begin to install them now, we should be able to get underway in slightly under fourteen hours."
"Will this work on the big ships, too?" Claire asked. She had a notably morose expression on her face as she anticipated the answer.
"No, Claire. Pandora told me they wouldn't." Kate paused just long enough for the words to register before finishing, "So you're going to have to take a couple crew members and drive her yourself."
Claire brightened, and a grin transformed her face. "Really?"
"Really, really. Pandora is building a higher-level interface for you, and it’ll be the last one we install. In the meantime, pick two people and get over there to bring her back to ope
rational."
They split up, each to their own tasks. Kate enjoyed the solitude of the darkened ships as she installed the devices that would allow them to fight and fly under the control of her own Pandora until they could put crews on them. As her hands worked, her mind wandered. She’d come so far, and done so many things other than what she'd expected her military career to entail. This, in fact, was the closest she’d been to her early visions in a while—fixing equipment out on the bleeding edge of nowhere in order to survive until the next problem occurred.
She hoped beyond hope that the next day would bring them back to those they left behind. Comrades, friends... and Cross. She couldn't shake the nagging itch that somewhere, he was in trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Shortly after the predicted interval had elapsed, they were ready to go. Kate and those who hadn’t joined Claire Martin were on the bridge of the Pandora, watching as the ships within the facility slowly glided into a line behind them.
Across the way, Claire and her crew populated the bridge of the newly christened Phoebe, and a line of ships fell in to trail her as well.
After lengthy discussions of strategy with Pandora, they’d decided to break into two squadrons of sixteen, each led by a ship with humans aboard. They were further arranged into sets of eight and then into clusters of four. A control station on each bridge had been configured to monitor and direct the actions of the autonomous ships, solo or in groups.
"Here goes nothing," Kate whispered, then announced "Pandora, open the gates."
Ahead of them, the exit portal split apart and their ships crept toward it. Kate held her breath as they left the facility. They’d decided that rather than chance an adventurous run through the asteroid field again, they’d take a more direct route. As one, the energy weapons of all the ships began to fire in a predetermined pattern, carving a wide tunnel in the floating rock. They continued to blast away every piece of debris that threatened their advance, and soon all thirty-two ships had traversed the dangerous oval and emerged into safe space.
They reoriented toward the nearest wave intersection and spun their engines up to full. Kate noted that the older and damaged ships weren’t as fast as hers, and took some arguably inappropriate pride in that fact.
The humans worked to familiarize themselves with the new arrangement. Kate and Claire piloted their ships through some basic maneuvers to see how the autonomous followers responded while their crews gathered data on the performance of the Domeki additions.
Soon, they were near their insertion point.
"Commander," Claire Martin said, "my ship just discovered something you should know about."
"Standby," Pandora replied, and after a moment continued, "I have it."
The speakers crackled to life with a scratchy voice speaking in the harsh tones Kate recognized as the Xroeshyn language. A translation quickly appeared on the main display.
To: Fleet-Captain Indraat Vray
From: Emperor Kraada Tak
You are ordered to proceed with the attack on Starbase 4 as planned. You are ordered to use the maximum number of ships we discussed, holding only those over that quantity back as a reserve force. That reserve force shall be added during phase two, which the church will consider a separate battle.
You are to attack this so-called Starbase 4, and at the appropriate moment, having drawn out the defenders, shift to the location we have identified as the source. Upon arrival, you are ordered to seed the planet with the gravitic mines and destroy it.
Allow nothing to come between you and your task. Better to die in service of this goal, than to return home in defeat.
The gods will watch you on your way, Niece.
So may it be.
Silence reigned across the bridge and the comm channel for several moments as they took in this new information.
"Pandora, was that what I think it was?"
"Yes, Commander. The ship that Lieutenant Commander Martin has chosen appears to possess an upgraded communication suite. It has connected with passive listening posts that the Domeki placed in the distant past. This transmission was intercepted as it traveled from the Xroeshyn home world to a ship on the front line."
"Wait. You know the location of the Xroeshyn planet?"
"Your actions at the facility have granted us additional freedoms, Commander. I, and you, now have access to all navigational materials."
"Find us the shortest distance between here and Starbase 4, and let's get moving."
"Affirmative, Commander."
"Can we communicate with the human forces?"
"Negative, Commander. While we’re able to send messages faster than we can travel, they don’t have the equipment with which to receive them."
"Dammit."
"Indeed, Commander."
"Claire, any suggestions?"
The other woman sounded as frustrated as Kate felt. "Fly as fast as we can and arrive shooting."
"That sounds like a plan. Pandora, anything to add?"
"Shoot straight, Commander," she replied.
Kate just shook her head. If the universe got any weirder, she was going to find a frontier planet, build a cabin, and spend the rest of her life there avoiding everyone and everything. She laughed at herself as she launched the Pandora and the sixteen following her into the gravity wave, bound for Starbase 4.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Commander Anderson Cross walked the wrecked hallway of one of the Washington's lower decks, trailing his fingers along the hastily sealed cracks in the outer hull.
"The starboard side took a beating," Jannik said. Cross heard his effort to suppress the accusation and appreciated it.
"This girl is getting old, I'm afraid. And current times are hard on old folks."
Jannik raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t rise to the bait.
"Anyway, Jacobs, what's the tally?"
Lieutenant Commander Alan Jacobs, his executive officer since Kate had found the ship of her dreams, examined the tablet in his hand. "The starboard side has been reinforced with additional plating, and all remaining weapons have been removed due to lack of structural integrity. The internal components were wrecked, and no replacements are available."
Cross grunted. "Walsh won’t be happy about that," he observed.
"Not at all," agreed Jacobs. "In addition, the starboard shuttle bay is now filled with armor, and its doors are welded shut."
"That's it?" asked Cross.
"That's all the items that couldn’t be repaired, correct. The rest have been reinforced, reattached, and rebuilt as best as the starbase crew could. In a few more hours, we should be ready for final checks."
He turned to Jannik, who stood with his arms folded leaning against a miraculously whole piece of the corridor. "And our drives, Chief?"
"Functional, but secondhand. In the end, one was repaired with used parts, and the other was swapped out entirely. I'll give the base crew credit for their speed on that one."
"The amount of junk floating around the sector makes for effective scavenging, I suppose," Cross said.
"It does at that. Each one of them a sign that we weren't good enough."
Cross frowned at him and then met Jacobs’s eye. His second-in-command's face also showed concern about the chief engineer's attitude.
"Let's get a drink, Chief."
Jannik levered himself off the wall and began to shake his head. "I have too much to-"
"There’s nothing that needs attending to that one of your subordinates can't handle, and you know it. We need a drink."
Jannik sighed and followed without further argument.
After taking the long walk in the flexible tube that connected the Washington to the starbase, each of them nursed a short glass of whiskey while they waited for their third to arrive. When he did, it wasn’t in his normal pristine uniform, but rather in what appeared to be mechanic's clothes. Captain First Rank Dima Petryaev sat down with them and tapped his own order into the pad at the table.
"How's your ship?" Jannik grunted.
"He has been better, certainly," Dima replied. "Several of our launch tubes and one of our recovery hangars are damaged beyond easy repair. It substantially increases the time to get my fighters into a battle. And if we’re forced to run, we’ll need to decide far in advance, if we hope to recover all of my people."
"Anything else?" Cross asked, his eyes locked on his drink.
"Nothing that can be repaired here, anyway," Dima replied. "If we lived in an ideal universe, we’d spend three months in drydock at one of our bases, and all of our drives and weapons would be replaced with newer models. The basic structure of the ship is still whole, if slightly bent, but there are too many potential failure points for my comfort."
"I understand that feeling," said Jannik.
Dima turned his gaze upon the engineer. "Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve faced such damage, Chief?"
Jannik finished off his whiskey, then banged the tumbler down and ordered another. "It is not," he confirmed. "However, each one seems a little harder to recover from."
"Of course," said the Russian with a wave and a knowing stare. "When was the last time you saw her?"
Jannik looked up at the Russian. "Her?"
"Whoever it is you’re thinking of when you feel disloyal for wanting to leave this war, for wanting to leave your ship."
Cross watched, silent, and berated himself for not seeing it on his own.
"A long, long time," Jannik answered with a sigh, and sipped his replacement drink. "Even in my worst moments, I knew I’d eventually find my way there. Now, I have doubts."
"I am-" Cross began, remorse in his tone.
Jannik shut him down with the slam of a palm on the table. "As much as I’d like this to be about your many failings, my boy, I must confess it is not. I'm just tired, I guess."
"A natural feeling," Dima offered.
"Natural, but not helpful," answered the engineer.
"Well, there are two choices before you," Dima said. "Stay, or go. Certainly, whatever mandatory time you needed to serve is completed."