The Sacred Stars (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 4)

by Kal Spriggs

  Lee Sang sighed, but he did as he was told. The probe launched and cleared the debris cloud. It took Lee longer than it should have to get the probe's telescopic camera aimed at the two ships.

  Arvad needed a long moment to make sense of what he saw. The lead cruiser was odd, sleek and streamlined with heavy armor plating. It didn't have turrets, but it seemed to have odd firing ports or maybe some kind of weapon array set into the hull, Arvad couldn't tell which.

  But what really threw him was the ship behind it. It should have appeared smaller due to positioning, but then Lee split off the perspective and put both ships side by side to scale. The blood drained from Arvad's face. “That's no cruiser...”

  “Yeehaw!” Gahring shouted over the comms, “here comes daddy!”

  “Dammit,” Arvad said, “Gahring, turn around you idiot!”

  It was too late, though, Arvad saw. Gahring's assault boats had cleared the debris field, their souped up engines blazing as they charged at the two enemy ships.

  “Damn you, Gahring!” Arvad shouted, “that's a battlecruiser!”

  ***

  Alannis didn't have much of a big picture. She had her little window, with rapidly updating target priorities and sensor data that told her what Lieutenant Commander Douglass wanted dead and in what order.

  The ships didn't look like much of anything, but she wasn't about to get complacent. She didn't know if these were the people who had attacked the Ghornath Fleet or not, but they certainly didn't act like they were friendly.

  “Huh,” Lieutenant Perkins said from just down the way.

  “Sir?” Alannis asked.

  “That second ship there, I recognize it. It's a Aragan-class transport. I served aboard it on my first assignment, I was aboard her when we came back and saw the aftermath of the Nova Roma attack,” he said. “I gave up my slot for a friend of mine to get his family off world... I remember hearing it disappeared, I guess she was taken by pirates.”

  Alannis didn't let his words distract her, but she did take the time to pull up a visual of the ship. She could see where the enemy had cut away at the old freighter's hull and spliced in weapons systems and targeting sensors. “Well, maybe some of the crew survived.”

  “Doubtful,” Lieutenant Perkins said. “I hate to think what might have happened on that ship over the past twenty years.” He shook his head, “Just as well.” She looked over and saw that his face had gone grave at the reminder of his home and at the losses he'd suffered.

  It was a marked reminder to her. Forrest Perkins often seemed young and energetic, but he was like her, he'd lived a life before he joined the United Colonies Fleet. She felt an odd connection to him, they'd both lost so much and had begun new lives within the military.

  Maybe she could talk to him about it when the crisis was past.

  Alannis's eyes went back to her screen, just as she saw the enemy small craft light off their drives. Her fingers pulled up the targeting data even as she heard Lieutenant Commander Douglass's voice in her headset, “Engage!”

  The Constellation's four small pulse projectors could fire both forward and aft with their arrays. With the targeting priorities and engagement parameters uploaded, each pulse cannon could unleash a burst of thirty pulsed beams each of phased exotic particles at up to five thousand kilometers range in just under six seconds.

  Those pulse projectors were designed for use against fast bombers and even faster missiles. They were designed to hit hard enough to destroy a heavy bomber with a single hit.

  From the time that Alannis told the pulse projectors to engage to Lieutenant Commander Douglass's order to shift fire, the arrays fired over six hundred shots in thirty seconds. The pirate assault boats hadn't even fully cleared the debris field before they all died. The vast majority of the follow-on shots simply shredded their wreckage into a cloud of ionized gasses.

  A moment later, someone on the bridge must have shifted over the pirate's transmissions to the ship's intercom, “Stop, please, oh god, we surrender! Please don't kill us!”

  “Weapons, stand down,” Captain Beeson said. “It seems our new friends want to surrender.”

  Lieutenant Perkins sighed and looked down at his console, “Dang it, a few more seconds and I would have gotten to fire.” He glared at Alannis, “Ensign, if you're the only one on this cruise who gets to fire guns in combat, I will be very disappointed.”

  ***

  Ensign Ashtar Shan grimaced as she looked down the line of pirate scavengers. Most of them were men, which itself wasn't much of a surprise. Nor had she felt much surprise when several of her Marines had reported the discovery of “pleasure” women hidden away in several of the pirate's quarters.

  What she'd wanted to do was grab them, one by one, and space them. She'd seen the same kind of behavior on her own world, hidden under the mask of religious fanaticism. The only difference between these pirates and the terrorists of her world was just that, a mask. They were the same type, people who wanted power and lived by taking from those who had worked hard.

  Back on Tehran, she had the pleasure of lining similar filth up against the wall and shooting them. Hopefully she'd have the same opportunity here.

  “Any more weapons?” Ashtar asked as Gunny Tam stepped back from where his Marines had finished searching the last of the pirates.

  “No, ma'am,” Gunny Tam said. “Just that one idiot.” He nodded at the spreading pool of blood. The idiot pirate had tried to stab one of her Marines. Maybe he'd thought he could take them by surprise or get a hostage, maybe he'd just been hopped up on drugs. It didn't matter. Staff Sergeant Witzke had put him down with a burst to the torso and then made certain of him with a single round to the head.

  Not that she condoned shooting prisoners, normally, but by attacking after they'd already surrendered, the pirate had waived any rights he had. Then again, she mused, they're pirates, which means they don't really have any rights, especially since we caught them in the act.

  “Right,” Ashtar said. She walked in front of the line of pirates. “Which one of you is in charge? Captain Beeson wants to talk to you.”

  “I'm Arvad,” a pirate said. “I'm the commander of this force.”

  “You were the commander,” Ashtar said. She saw the pirate's face go gray at the reminder. “Now you're our prisoner. Now, if you'll follow the Lance Corporal, here, he'll take you back to our ship and the brig.”

  She waited as he left and then stared at the group of sullen and shocked pirates. “Now, then, some of you may already have forgotten what happened to your friend here,” she looked distastefully at the corpse of the pirate on the deck. “Just in case your memories are fading, let me remind you of two things.”

  She held up a single finger, “United Colonies Marines live for this sort of thing. The only thing they like better than rescuing some very grateful people from bad guys like you is killing bad guys like you.” Ashtar held up a second finger, “And two: each of them is armed with a battle rifle that can punch through a bulkhead, much less the fragile sacks of meat, blood, and shit that make up your bodies.” One of the pirates might have whimpered. “Now, I'll leave you all in the capable hands of Gunny Tam. If any of you have any issues, feel free to bring them up.”

  ***

  Chapter VI

  Gebranyr System

  Neutral Space

  November 12, 2407

  Alannis swore a bit as she tugged at a recalcitrant piece of machinery. The Captain had sent her and a small party to one of the unknown craft to search for anything of interest. This bit of wreckage was the most intact remains from the mystery force that had attacked the Ghornath.

  Not that that's saying much, she thought. Whatever damage had put the ship out of action, it had been severe enough to rip the front two-thirds of the vessel apart. The aft section that she and her salvage crew were in seemed to have taken secondary damage, possibly in an attempt to completely destroy it.

  Thus far, they hadn't found anything recognizable as bei
ng remotely useful for identifying the origins of the ship. They'd found no signs at all of bodies and every bit of machinery seemed to have been targeted for destruction. Every piece but this one, wedged as it was between the bulkhead and a support strut.

  “Need help, ma'am?” A voice asked over her suit radio.

  Alannis turned awkwardly, her braced feet still clamped to the deck. She saw Tech Specialist Spurlock had drifted over from his search area. “I finished my area, no finds, Petty Officer Muna sent me to check and see if you needed help, ma'am.”

  “Sure,” Alannis unclamped her boots and drifted to the side. She flashed her light on the bit of machinery where it was wedged. “Think you can help me get it free?”

  “Maybe?” Tech Specialist Spurlock said. He spun vertical and checked the upper area of the support strut. “There's a bit more room up here, we might be able to get it out intact up here.”

  “Good idea,” Alannis said. She braced herself and nearly overcompensated for the lack of gravity. Her flailing leg struck the Tech Specialist and he had to catch himself on the strut. “Shit, sorry.”

  “No worries, ma'am,” Spurlock said. “Zero G takes a lot of getting used to. I'm sure you don't get much time to train in it.”

  “Not anymore,” Alannis muttered to herself. She sighed, “How do you take it? This stupid ship is creeping everyone out and even Petty Officer Muna is sounding on edge. You sound calm.”

  “It's a trick I picked up in basic training, ma'am,” Tech Specialist Spurlock replied. She gingerly moved the bit of electronics up towards him and he took it and started to ease it out through the gap. “I have severe agoraphobia. I can't even function in zero-g in deep space.”

  “What?” Alannis asked in shock. “I thought that was enough to disqualify anyone from military service!”

  “It is,” Spurlock said as he adjusted the bit of equipment. “Worse, in my case it's tied to my inner ear and the way my brain works. It's non-treatable according to every doc I saw, without severe medications which would also disqualify me for service. They were going to file the paperwork and discharge me, but I managed to talk my drill instructors into giving me a second chance.”

  Alannis thought about some of the training cadre at the Academy. “That must have taken some talking.”

  “It did,” Spurlock said. “But I remembered a story my grand-dad told me, about his grand-dad, who had issues with some of his military training. He put quarters in his boots.”

  “Quarters?”

  “They're an old-Earth coin, ma'am,” Spurlock said. “My grand-dad kept them, they've been passed down several generations. I've got two coins in my mag-boots and I'm too busy playing with them with my toes to think about the sucking-death-vacuum all around us.”

  “What happens if you lose your coins?” Alannis asked.

  “I'll probably turn into a gibbering mess, ma'am,” Spurlock said cheerfully. He finished angling the bit of equipment and then pulled it out of the gap, then carefully passed it down to her. “Here you are, ma'am.”

  “Thanks,” Alannis said. She was pretty certain the letter of the regulations would demand she bring up the information that Spurlock had told her. For that matter, she could think of just how bad things could go if he didn’t have his coins handy… or down his boot, or whatever.

  He trusts me enough to tell me that, she realized, he didn't have to, he could have kept quiet or said something else. He had told her to help make her feel better.

  She knew she wasn't going to tell anyone. She hoisted the bit of machinery, “Let's go see if this was worth all the effort, shall we?”

  ***

  “So,” Daniel said after a full shift spent combing through the wreckage, “what have we learned?” The holographic projectors had extended the table into Burbeg's conference room. It was a bit odd since the projectors had issues with the scale. They weren't really designed for such differences. The laser transceivers left a bit of lag in communications, but it was as secure as they could manage without physically relocating to one ship or the other. Given the security situation, Daniel didn't want to be away from his ship.

  “We recovered the remains of over two hundred of our warriors,” Burbeg said. “We've also replenished our supplies of missiles and we have picked up replacement parts to complete our repairs.”

  “Excellent,” Daniel said. “Have your crews found any clues about who attacked?”

  “No,” Burbeg's hide darkened, “we have found little, from what we have learned from the scavengers, the enemy must have destroyed their damaged equipment and recovered their dead.”

  “We've found a couple pieces of equipment from one wreck,” Daniel said. “I've got our engineers working on it, they're taking it apart as we speak.”

  “Good, perhaps we will learn the nature of our enemies,” Burbeg said. “What have you learned about the pirates?”

  “They're pretty much scum,” Daniel said with a frown. “The records they kept are enough to space the lot of them.” Some of the bastards had documented what they did to the people they'd attacked for their own sick pleasure. Daniel would prefer to give them a trial, but they didn't have the time to do it and they didn't have the room aboard either warship to keep so many prisoners. “I'd still like to give them a proper trial before we kill them, but it's a long way to civilized space.”

  “There may be a way,” Burbeg said. His skin flashed through several colors. “You may suspect that we have a base of operations.”

  “Yes,” Daniel said, “We assumed as much from the existence of your fleet.”

  “Well,” Burbeg said, “we do have a base, but one of our operational principles has been secrecy. We've never transmitted its location, not even via ansible. Nor have we stored its location aboard any ship. Its coordinates are kept only in the minds of a ship's senior officers and are wiped from a navigational computer after departure from the star system.”

  Daniel heard one of his officers give a low whistle. That level of secrecy was tremendous. He would have called it excessive... except apparently the Ghornath had an unknown enemy who had the ability to listen in to ansible communications.

  “We could drop off the pirates to face trial there,” Burbeg said. “As well as their prisoners. There are a small number of humans there who could take them somewhere to recover. I could have prize crews bring the captured pirate vessels there where they can be transported for storage or salvaged for materials and parts.”

  “Okay,” Daniel said. “I take it you would want us to wipe our navigational computer after we arrive?”

  “Yes,” Burbeg nodded. “We would also have to ask that you lock down your sensors other than basic navigational systems.”

  Daniel nodded, “I can agree to that. Would your base be able to resupply us at all?”

  Burbeg shook his head, “I do not know. If the Fleet was able to shake their enemies, they might have withdrawn there in which case they will be short on supplies. If not, we do not grow crops there, all foodstuffs are shipped in.”

  “I understand,” Daniel said. “Thank you for trusting us with this information. I promise you that we will not let it out.”

  “Excellent,” Burbeg said. “I will send over one of my officers, she will input the coordinates, she is familiar with human technology and should be able to do it quickly enough. She'll stay aboard in case of any issues.”

  “Thank you, Strike Leader,” Daniel said. “I look forward to her arrival.”

  ***

  “I am Leader Chuni,” the Ghornath said. She wore combat fatigues and carried a heavy bag, probably filled with her personal gear, and she had to bend nearly in half to fit through the hatch. The Ghornath shuttle had docked at their cargo hatch, so at least it was wide enough for the big alien to fit through.

  “I'm Ensign Alannis Giovanni,” Alannis replied. Lacking any real idea of what to do, she saluted. The Ghornath had a rather looser rank structure. They didn't really have any ranks between “Strike Leader” and “L
eader.” The one was the commander of a ship or ground unit, the other was simply an officer rank attached to an officer in a position of authority.

  “Pleased to meet you, Ensign Giovanni,” Leader Chuni said. She spoke with no accent, which surprised Alannis, most Ghornath had at least some difficulty with human words, especially those who hadn't grown up around humans. “Should we go to the bridge?”

  “Of course,” Alannis said. Though Captain Beeson hadn't specifically mentioned it, she'd picked the route with the widest and tallest corridors possible to reach the bridge. She'd also had one of the drop shafts near the bridge shut down, since that would be the easiest way to move up the necessary levels for the big Ghornath female.

  “You are Giovanni?” Chuni asked. “Are you related to your Emperor?”

  “I am his sister,” Alannis said.

  “That is very close, then,” Chuni said. Her hide turned an odd shade of tan. “Your brother, the Emperor, he was among the vanguard who led their attack on Ghornathi Har?”

  Alannis frowned, “I think so, if that's what we call Ghornath Prime. He regrets his role, he was a junior officer, sent on a suicide mission. I know that he has tried to make up for the debt that he feels we owe your people.”

  “Debts...” the Ghornath said, “debts of honor are the most difficult to repay.”

  They walked in awkward silence for some time. Alannis hoped that she hadn't made an enemy of the Ghornath. I'm sure Lucius would be rather disappointed in me if I rekindled a war with the Ghornath over one of them murdering me for my family's role in the fall of their homeworld.

  “What are your normal duties, Leader Chuni?” Alannis asked.