by Jay Allan
“Nine thousand…prepare for high gee maneuver.”
She stared down at the targeting display, locking the torpedo on the target.
“Eight thousand…” She knew she should get closer. She’d watched Hurley do it. And Mariko too, even closer. She’d have sworn her friend was certifiably crazy. But she could feel her hand shaking, and she knew she didn’t have it in her. She was already close, inside normal firing range. She’d done all that was expected of a fighter pilot. But she just didn’t have it in her to ride it to five thousand…or even the four thousand she’d seen Mariko pull off. She wanted to be the hero, the wild fighter jock with no fear, no hesitation. But it just wasn’t her.
She pulled the trigger, and her fighter shook as the torpedo launched. She slammed the throttle to the side, pulling it back hard, and blasting away from the collision course…and past the enemy ship.
The display plotted the course of her torpedo. A hit! She felt a rush of excitement, tempered a bit as she realized the weapon impacted on a heavily-armored section of the hull. It did damage, no doubt…a considerable amount. But it wasn’t the kind of ship-killing critical hit she’d seen Mariko and Hurley’s birds deliver.
* * *
“What should we do?” Sasha Debornan—or the thing the human being with that name had become—sat in the quarters that had been assigned to her. She looked over at Don Rames, her ally, another human controlled now by the nanos. They were there for a purpose, to serve the Regent. But now it was unclear how to proceed.
“I do not know. There is insufficient data to formulate a course of action.” Rames sat still, unmoving, looking uncomfortable. The nanos controlled his every move, but they had no sense of comfort.
Debornan sat silently, thinking. They had designed a plan, one based on the knowledge they had been able to acquire. To assassinate Admiral Compton. But Terrance Compton was not with the fleet, he was off leading a diversionary force.
“Many of Compton’s people believe him to be dead. If that is the case, perhaps we should change our target to Admiral West. She appears to be the likely successor to Compton.” Rames voice was deadpan, without emotion.
“There is merit to such a consideration. But I have doubts. We do not know Compton is dead, only that some of his people fear he is. If he is alive, if he returns, he is undoubtedly the greater threat.” She paused, thinking. “This ship is in battle now. If it falls, we will be destroyed…but so will Admiral West. Therefore, I propose that we wait and reevaluate after the engagement ends. Perhaps by that time there will be additional information on Admiral Compton.”
“Yes,” Rames said. “I believe that is the best course for the present.” He paused. Then he looked at Debornan. “While we wait, I submit that the remnants of the thought processes of the biologics are no longer of value. I propose we eliminate them.”
Debornan considered. “Yes, I am inclined to agree. We have procured their knowledge. They are of no further utility.”
Somewhere in the recesses of her brain, the captive remnants, the emotions, the essence of Sasha Debornan felt the darkness closing, coming in from all sides. She screamed, silently, with no one to hear. And then it was over. All that had made Sasha Debornan the person she was, her loves, dreams, beliefs…was gone.
* * *
West sat in her chair, her eyes fixed on the main display. She was counting down softly to herself. “Five, four, three…”
She had her ships prepared, their weapons armed and ready. But first she would see the power of the ancients, wielded by Hieronymus Cutter.
“Ready to fire, Admiral.” Cutter’s voice was soft in her headset, but she could hear the tension in his voice. She knew the brilliant scientist believed he had gained control over the ancient weapons array, but none of them would know for sure. Not until he fired.
“Admiral, we’re getting energy readings off the charts! Almost a hundred weapons platforms, all suddenly active.” The power output was so huge, it was impossible to miss. Her eyes darted to the wall of approaching icons, the enemy fleet. She could see them decelerating, trying to slow their approach. They had picked up the power spikes too.
“Firing,” Cutter said, and an instant later the display lit up like a supernova. Massive explosions all around the firing platforms…and great pulses of energy, laser blasts ripping through space, smashing into the enemy warships.
West watched as one ship simply vaporized, its hull melting and turning to gas in a microsecond, leaving nothing at all behind. Other vessels were torn in half or had great holes ripped through them. They bled gasses and fluids, secondary explosions wracked their interiors, blowing great chunks from their hulls. In less than ten seconds, over sixty enemy ships ceased to exist, nothing but a few slowly-cooling plasmas to mark that they’d ever been there.
West felt a rush of excitement. She pumped her clenched fist into the air, and she joined the flag bridge crew in a loud scream. The power that Cutter had unleashed was like nothing she’d ever seen before. The alien Almeerhan had been good to his word. The Ancients had planned for this moment. They had left their technology for those who would come after. And now that tech was doing what it had been designed to do so many eons before. It was lashing out at the Ancients’ enemy, at the ships of the Regent. The hand of those slain by that monstrous intelligence had struck a great blow, one from beyond the ages.
But even that momentous attack had left almost thirty enemy vessels remaining. They were reversing power, blasting their engines at full, trying to come to a stop…and then accelerate away from the threat. But Erika West had no intention of letting them go. She knew it would be a bloody fight, but she intended to take out every one of the enemy vessels.
“All ships, attack at will…no one gets away. No one.”
She stared straight ahead with a single thought in her mind.
Kill.
* * *
“Hang on…I’m giving it everything we’ve got left.” Jones’ voice was strained, the eight gees pushing down on her making it almost impossible to speak. But she couldn’t let up. Not now. The battle was all but won…save this last enemy vessel.
Her fighters had destroyed the reserve task force, all but the single remaining vessel. And she’d watched with amazement as her scanners showed her what had happened in the inner system. The power of those weapons emplacements was almost beyond imagination, making even the heaviest guns of the First Imperium vessels seem weak and insignificant by comparison.
It was a great victory…or at least it would be if she caught this last ship. The enemy vessel was running for the warp gate, seeking to escape, to report that the human fleet had been found, that they had taken refuge in the X108 system. That one ship, damaged, fleeing, could drain all the advantage gained by the great victory. If they got away it wouldn’t be long before more ships came…before the true might of the First Imperium gathered here.
“No…we can’t let that happen…”
Jones’ ship was the only one close enough to have a chance at catching the enemy. She had one torpedo left, and if she managed to place it in the right spot it would be enough. She was sure of that.
Her hand jerked the throttle back and forth, trying to make her bird as tough a target as possible for the enemy point defense. The fire was heavy, but her quick hand—and her luck—had served her well. Her bird was inside 10,000 kilometers. But this time she was going to take it all the way…beyond point blank range.
Eight thousand kilometers.
She flipped the arming switch. The torpedo was ready to go.
Her hands were on the controls, her eyes on the screen.
Seven thousand.
“I’m going to make you proud of me, Mariko.” Her words were silent, inaudible, meant only for herself. “I’m going to take it right down their throats.”
She knew she needed a perfect shot, a critical hit that could destroy the enemy ship. Anything else was failure. The target would continue on through the warp gate. And warn the Reg
ent.
Six thousand.
Her hands were steady, the earlier fear gone. She knew what she had to do, and that was all that mattered. Her finger started closing slowly, putting pressure on the launch mechanism.
Five thousand.
Just another few seconds…
The ship shook hard, and she heard the sound of an explosion behind her, the screams of her shipmates. She felt something splatter on her from behind. Blood, she realized, looking up at the red speckled forward screen. She felt a wave of panic, but she held it back, closing her finger on the trigger.
Nothing.
She pressed it again. And again. Still nothing.
She knew in an instant. The ship was damaged—the firing controls, the bomb bay doors…something.
Then it came over her. Fear, despair.
I have failed.
She felt the misery, the despair. Hopelessness. Defeat. But only for an instant. Then the ship exploded, and she was gone.
* * *
The battle was over. Almost, at least. In the inner system, there was not a First Imperium vessel remaining. The fleet that had come to X108, to Shangri la, to destroy the humans, had itself been obliterated.
With a little help from the Ancients…
West was grateful…to Cutter, and to the people who had so long ago prepared this place. But now she just looked at her screen, at the blank space where Beverly Jones’ fighter had been. Jones had come close, recklessly close to the enemy, determined to ensure that her torpedo did the job, that it hit where she needed it to hit. And for an instant, after the terrible realization that Jones’ ship was gone, West thought she might have loosed the weapon just before she was hit. But the enemy ship was still there. No signs of an explosion. She watched as it continued on its path…and a minute later as it reached the warp gate and disappeared from the screen.
She felt the excitement drain from her. It was still a victory, a crucial one. But they’d just lost most of the advantage. The enemy would be back now, and in even greater force. She could imagine the Regent’s reaction, its version of excitement as it called out to its forces, sent every ship it had to X108.
West felt like prey, trapped, run to the ground somewhere from which there was no escape. She’d considered running, gathering the fleet and taking off, deeper and deeper into endless space. But that only lasted a second. Her ships were low on fuel, on food, on ammunition. Running wasn’t the answer…and fleeing and giving up this world left for them by the Ancients…it just wasn’t possible.
If we just had more time, enough to adapt some of this technology. She hoped they would, that the weeks and months would pass with no attack. That the Regent’s forces were dispersed, looking for them, that Compton had strung them out over a dozen systems. But she knew that was wishful thinking, that whatever the details, their time was limited. Very limited.
“Get me Dr. Cutter…no, belay that.” She stood up from her chair and turned toward Krantz. “Get my shuttle ready. I’m going down to the surface.”
Chapter Eighteen
Underground Complex
Near Landing Zone X-Ray
Planet X108 IV – “Shangri la”
The Fleet: 80 ships (+2 Leviathans), 19762 crew
West stood in the center of the control room, her head moving back and forth, looking at the array of screens and workstations. It all looked new, almost like a ship just out of the yard, though she knew it was half a million years old.
The Marine guards stood behind her. She’d tried to come down alone, with just the shuttle pilot to ferry her to the surface, but she’d almost faced an outright rebellion…from the Marines, and from her officers as well. She was getting an idea of what Compton had dealt with for so long, and her already enormous respect for the admiral grew even vaster.
She reached around, intending to scratch an itch, but then she remembered, for about the tenth time, she had an environmental suit on. She hated wearing space suits and their various cousins, but she was skewered by her own orders. The preliminary scans had found no pathogen dangerous to humans, nothing beyond normal bacteria and viruses capable of causing illnesses on par with a mild case of the flu. But she intended to take no chances, not with a deadly plague ravaging twenty of her ships. Snow Leopard had been the only vessel whose entire crew had reached the deadly end stage of the disease…but the cursed vessel had given a glimpse of the future if the medical teams didn’t find a cure…and soon.
She heard a swooshing sound, a door opening on the far wall. “Admiral West, I’m so sorry. No one told me you were coming down.” Hieronymus Cutter stepped into the room. “Welcome to Shangri la, Admiral.”
West stared at the scientist, shocked. Cutter stood in front of her wearing a set of coveralls…and nothing else. No suit, no air tank. Nothing.
“Hieronymus…” Her tone was thick with concern.
“I know, Admiral. I’m stuck down here…I understand. The obelisk…I had to touch it, let it scan my DNA. It was the only way in.”
“You took one hell of a chance…what if there had been a pathogen down here? What if there is, and we haven’t found it yet?”
“Then I guess I’ll die, Admiral.” Cutter’s tone was deadpan, matter-of-fact. “But if I hadn’t taken my armor off, I’d never have gotten down here…and we would have had no idea of the range of the defensive systems. And your people would have had to destroy an extra sixty enemy ships without any help.”
West just nodded. “You’re right, of course. We all take the risks we must.” She paused, and when she continued her voice had a twinge of guilt to it. “But you were right, Hieronymus. I can’t let you back up to the fleet. Not until we’re absolutely sure there are no dangerous pathogens down here.”
“I know, Admiral. I understand.” He turned and looked around the room. “There’s enough down here to keep me busy for a hundred years…so I can assure you my time won’t be wasted.” He paused. “Maybe you could shuttle down a shelter and a few other things. And my lab equipment.”
“Of course.” She looked right at him. “And thank you…for all your research, for your courage in doing what you had to do down here. That was amazing, Hieronymus. Those weapons are incredible…this could turn the tide of the whole war.” Her normally disciplined voice was betraying excitement.
Cutter returned West’s gaze. He’d never heard her as effusive about anything. But he had to admit, the megalasers had certainly put on a show. Still, a frown slipped onto his face.
“Admiral, I urge caution. Agreed, the laser installations are awesomely powerful…but there are limitations as well. They are anti-matter bomb pumped installations. Each turret actually has a series of…for lack of a better word, cartridges. They are expelled from the main station, and when in position they detonate, channeling a large portion of the energy released into the laser shot. But the supply of cartridges is very limited, perhaps only one or two more per platform. I believe the failsafe systems jettisoned them over the centuries, as their containment systems showed signed of failure. I’ve also found evidence of a dozen stations that are just gone. I’d guess their AIs didn’t catch the deterioration, and the antimatter annihilated, taking the platforms with it.”
“So you’re saying we only have a few more shots left? And then the planet’s defenses will be gone?”
Cutter took a breath and looked down at the floor for a few seconds before answering. “I wouldn’t say gone, Admiral. There are some lesser platforms…they’re nuclear powered. They’re all dead now, but I’d bet we could get some of them up and running. But the megalasers are the real killers. And once those last couple shots are gone, we’re going to need to produce more. And it will be a very long time before we can even come close to that. First, we need to develop a practical method for producing antimatter in quantity.”
West sighed softly, her exhale fogging her visor slightly. “That’s bad news, Hieronymus…and I’ve got some more. One of the enemy ships escaped. So whatever chance we had of bein
g left alone for a while is probably gone. We’re going to have to make the use of those shots we’ve got left on the megalasers…and we’ve got to do everything possible to get the lesser platforms operable.”
“I’ll do whatever I can, Admiral. I’m sure the fleet needs all the damage control personnel it has, but if you can detach an engineering team, I’ll see about getting some of the smaller guns up and running.”
“You’ll have them in a few hours, Hieronymus…the best we’ve got.”
Cutter was silent. He looked like he was going to says something, but he just stood there.
“What is it, Hieronymus?”
“Well, Admiral, I found something. Several things, in fact…and it gave me an idea.”
“What? Speak?” West stared at him, looking surprised at his hesitancy. “What’s wrong, Hieronymus?”
“Nothing, Admiral…it’s just…” He looked up from the floor. “It’s just that it’s pretty far out. A crazy idea. But when you see what I found here…”
“Show me, Hieronymus.” She walked across the room toward him. “Nothing that comes out of that amazing mind of yours is too far out.”
* * *
“Saratoga, we need help. We’ve got people dropping in the corridors, and we can’t cram another patient into sickbay.” West listened to the transmission as Krantz fielded another plea for help from one of the plague-stricken ships. Nanking was a freighter, and she’d had contact with eight or more other vessels before it was discovered that her people carried the disease.
West had given the fleet’s medical staff all the resources she could…anything they asked for that she had or could find or steal. But progress had been slow.
Slow…more like non-existent.
She had come to believe without a doubt that they were facing a bioweapon, all the more because there were cases on a number of ships that had not come into contact with Snow Leopard or any vessel that had. And they were still infected. At least one other ship had been hit with the strange small projectiles…though its since-relieved captain had not seen fit to report it until almost a month later.