The Complete Void Wraith Saga

by Chris Fox

  “That’s it exactly,” Lena said excitedly. “The myth says the ship returned to the Birthplace. If I’m right, that Birthplace corresponds to a celestial body somewhere. Maybe the original Primo home world?”

  “Quite possibly,” Atrea said, bobbing her head. “I know of a number of potential sources of information on the Birthplace, but all are among our most ancient lore. I do not know if we salvaged enough to provide the actual location.”

  “I have an idea there,” Lena said. She spoke to the air around her. “Ship, can you hear me?”

  “Affirmative, Lena of Pride Leonis,” Ship said, cheerfully.

  “I’d like you to reference all mythology you have access to, and have it sent to this terminal,” Lena commanded, grinning at Atrea. The scholarly woman hadn’t made the connection yet, but she would.

  “You can’t mean…” Atrea said, her tiny mouth falling open into a comically small O. “You possess a data cube from the second Primo empire?”

  “We do,” Lena said, grinning. Her tail writhed anxiously in her grip. “This VI doesn’t contain an entire archive, but its knowledge is considerable. Since the second empire wasn’t as far removed, they may have clearer information about this Forge.”

  49

  Into the Fray

  “Sir, the Veracruz is reporting drive issues,” Juliard called. She sat at the makeshift CIC station Dryker had had assembled the previous day. Now that he was running a human fleet in addition to the Primo, he needed the instrumentation necessary to command them.

  “Tell them we’re moving out in ten minutes. If they can’t get the problem isolated they’re to effect repairs, and get there as soon as possible,” Dryker instructed, shifting uncomfortably on the Primo throne.

  He’d considered taking one of the few capital ships from the 14th as his flagship, but had ultimately decided it would be better to stay aboard the First Light. Being aboard a destroyer again would be wonderful, but it wouldn’t do much for cohesion between the two races.

  “Sir, the Orion is on the line,” Juliard said.

  Dryker connected his comm, audio only. “This is First Light actual; go ahead, Orion.”

  “Sir, if the Veracruz stays behind, we’re losing our only battleship,” Sheng said. “The Orion is a frigate. We could have our generator moved to the Veracruz in under an hour, if Veracruz gives us a little more manpower.”

  “You’re willing to sit this one out?” Dryker asked, more than a little surprised. Sheng had a bloodthirsty reputation, which was why she’d ended up in the 14th.

  “No, sir. I figure my crew can be distributed to other vessels. I also think you need a first officer,” Sheng said, bluntly.

  “All right, I’ll notify the Orion. Have your drive wired up to the new Primo weaponry. Their main core can handle normal ship functions, which should remove enough of the load for it to work,” Dryker said, musing aloud. He turned to Juliard. “Have Sheng brought aboard and get that drive shuffled, Lieutenant.”

  Juliard bent to her station with a nod, and Dryker enjoyed a full twenty seconds of silence before Celendra spoke. “Admiral, I’ve received word that all Primo are in place. There is some hesitation about having our people aboard your ships, but I have reassured them that we will not be treated as expendable.”

  That last was part question, and Dryker knew she was looking for reassurance. He wasn’t good at this crap, but he did his best. “Let them know that we’ll keep them out of direct combat. All they need to do is ensure their weapons keep working. That’s the only possible way we’re going to be able to reach Mendez.” Turning to Juliard, he asked, “Lieutenant, have we heard from the Essels yet?”

  “Negative, sir,” Juliard said, then corrected herself a moment later. “Strike that. They’re entering the photosphere now. Captain Ygris is hailing us.”

  “On screen,” Dryker said, forgetting there was no screen on the First Light.

  Celendra waved a hand, and a portion of the dome shifted to show Ygris’s grizzled face. The man looked like he’d been through a wood chipper, scars criss-crossing both cheeks. “I’ve got that data you wanted, sir. Broadcasting it now.”

  “Give me the short version,” Dryker said, stepping from the throne and approaching the part of the dome where Celendra was displaying the captain’s face.

  “The 5th, 11th, and 4th are already here,” Ygris explained. “They’re in a defensive position, orbiting Tigrana. Sir…it’s bad. They conducted a sustained orbital bombardment. The entire southern continent is gone, sir.”

  “And the Tigris forces?” Dryker asked, stifling the hot surge in his belly. Were they too late?

  “It looks like the entire Leonis Pride is moving to engage. At least seventy ships, sir,” Ygris said, scrubbing thick fingers through his bristly hair. “I’d lay odds on the Tigris. They’re pissed off, and even if they’re a little outnumbered, they’re fighting for their homes.”

  Ygris was right. If the battle played out, both sides would be savaged so badly they’d never recover. They had to stop this. Had to.

  50

  Begin the Assault

  Fizgig strode through the halls of her ship, shoulders squared and tail held high. The ship would never recover, and entire sections were open to space. Yet she still flew, and Fizgig was proud of her. The Claw had a soul of her own, and that soul would never give up. No matter the odds.

  Fizgig made her way deeper into the ship, the whir of power tools and the shouts of techs coming from up ahead. She strode purposefully onto the deck, pausing to survey the fighter bay. The handful of remaining darts had been gathered into the area closest to the functional launch tube. The few racks of ordinance were stacked near them. There were precious few of either, but at least her crew had been replenished.

  They stood in neat, even ranks. The only notable exception was the techs, and even they paused in their work. Every last pair of eyes was on her. She stared back, proud and a little sad. These people had been marginalized for so long that they were willing to risk everything just to earn something she’d taken for granted her whole life: a name.

  “Mighty Fizgig,” the crowd chorused, nearly three hundred Tigris throats booming together. Every last soldier snapped to attention, and if there were a few stragglers, at least they’d made the attempt.

  Fizgig stalked forward, prowling back and forth in front of the crowd. She studied them in silence for long moments before finally speaking. “We are Fizgig Pride. We are family. The first thing your family will teach you is honor. You are the equal of any Leonis. Remember that, and hold your head high.”

  More than one soldier straightened at that, and most adopted proud expressions. For many, it was the first time they’d been acknowledged by an officer, let alone a Pride leader. The ember of pride that had taken hold in each was delicate, and would need to be stoked, until it became a raging inferno. The way to achieve that was simple: victory.

  “Our plan is simple, but devastatingly effective. We will allow the Leonis to engage the humans.” She stopped pacing and raised her Primo rifle to her chest, displaying it proudly. “Admiral Mow will lead from the rear, like the coward he is. We will ambush him, and wrest the fate of our people from his bloody corpse.”

  She stabbed the pistol up into the air, firing a blast at the ceiling. Answering blasts rippled through the crowd, mostly slug-throwing weapons, stolen or purchased from humans. Eventually Fizgig raised a paw, waiting three seconds for silence. Most fell into line, but a few still fired and laughed.

  “Silence!” Fizgig roared, cutting off the stragglers. “Today you will learn discipline, the coin with which you will purchase greatness. Act like warriors. Dismissed.”

  Fizgig turned on her heel, stalking from the barracks and into the Claw’s aft corridor. She circled around to the top of the ship, taking the only remaining route to the bridge. The Claw was just as bedraggled as Fizgig’s new pride.

  That didn’t deter her. If anything, it seemed fitting. She was old, and she was we
ary. So, too, was the Claw old and weary. Both should have returned to the home world long since, to foster the next generation of kits while waiting for Tigrana’s embrace.

  Fizgig took her time reaching the bridge, using the time to visualize Mow. She pictured her paws around his throat, saw herself biting down savagely and ending his life. That had always been the way of it for her, seeing the kill before she made it. It gave her a certainly, a knowing of sorts. She knew Mow would die, and that she’d be the one that took his life.

  51

  Scan

  Nolan suppressed his agitation as Kathryn’s tube filled with pink light. Lena manned a terminal near Edwards, bent almost double to scan some sort of readings. Kathryn gave no outward sign of discomfort, peering curiously at the light surrounding her. Of course, no outward sign didn’t mean much. If Lena or the ship had misjudged the proper amount of radiation, Kathryn would die within days.

  “Nolan,” Lena said, finally straightening from the panel. She clasped her tail in both paws. “The test will take roughly two minutes. During that time, there is something you need to know. Atrea and I debated telling you, as we aren’t positive, but we think we’ve found something important.”

  “Something that could help us?” Nolan said, perking up slightly. They desperately needed a win at this point.

  “During the original Primo empire, they utilized something called the Forge. Sometimes this is referred to as a place, other times as a weapon. It’s unclear precisely what it is, but several myths from the second Primo empire suggest it was a vessel,” Lena explained, blinking those feline eyes. “If I am correct, that vessel was never destroyed. The myths say that it was returned to the Birthplace.”

  “And you think this Forge could help us against the Void Wraith?” Nolan asked, intensely curious. “And that it’s still around, even after so many thousands of years?”

  “Yes, and yes,” Lena said, nodding. “The Primo built the Forge after they were first attacked by the Void Wraith. They used it to create the technology that later became their ships and weapons. The Forge was part research vessel, part weapon. By itself, the ship would be incredibly formidable, but it likely contains technological secrets beyond even the Primo’s most advanced levels.”

  The implications were staggering. Nolan suddenly understood one of the possible motives this Eye might have. Assuming it was overseeing the creation of an army in the Milky Way, it would be just as interested in the Forge as they were. Nolan couldn’t be certain, but this certainly seemed like a reason to blow up the Primo libraries. If a ship like that existed, you’d definitely want to prevent your enemies from finding out about it.

  “You said it returned to the Birthplace?” Nolan asked, his excitement mounting.

  “I did,” Lena replied, ears drooping. “Atrea and I have no idea where the Birthplace is, not yet anyway. We’ll continue to study, but some of the data we needed was destroyed back at the library.”

  Nolan stifled a surge of frustration. Just when he’d thought they might have a leg up. There was nothing for it, though. They had to fight with the weapons at hand. If they managed to end the war between humans and Tigris, maybe then they could find this ship.

  The console behind Lena began beeping. She turned to face it, raising a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my. Nolan, you need to see this.”

  Nolan hurried over, bending to study the data Lena was looking at. It showed a mass of red tendrils spiraling through Kathryn’s body, a thin latticework that traced the nervous system and led to a thick mass centered around the base of the spine.

  “Can we remove it?” Nolan asked.

  Lena shook her head sadly. “This is way beyond my capabilities,” she said. “Our best neurosurgeons would be hard-pressed to do anything. This thing has effectively merged with her nervous system. I have no idea how we’d kill it without killing her.”

  “All right,” Nolan said, taking a deep breath. There had to be a way to fix this, not just for Kathryn’s sake.

  Though, he had to admit, it was mostly for her sake.

  “There’s more bad news,” Lena said, swiping the screen until it showed another graph. “That’s the rate of advance. This thing is taking over more and more of her body. If the process continues, I’d guess she has no more than six to eight weeks before it kills her.”

  As terrible as it was, Nolan didn’t give in to it. They had a job to do. He couldn’t help her, but he’d already helped Delta, and could help countless others.

  52

  The Plan

  “So that’s the story,” Nolan explained, resting his hands on the conference room’s chrome table. “We need a way to disable the chips, something wide-scale enough to affect them all at the same time. We’re some of the best and brightest out there. Suggestions?”

  Lena and Atrea looked at each other, as if each was unsure who should defer. Nolan caught Hannan hiding a smile out of the corner of his eye, clearly amused by the scholars as they tripped over each other trying to be polite.

  “I believe we may have a way,” Atrea said, resting a leathery hand on Lena’s shoulder. “Lena, please correct me if you have a better approach, but we don’t need to disable all the chips. We merely need to disable the transmitter. Who holds the leash? Eliminate that threat, and it won’t matter if these men have chips. They’re not dangerous if no one can activate them.”

  Nolan blinked at the simple audacity of the suggestion. It made sense. He held his tongue, waiting for the others to offer their opinions of Atrea’s idea before he weighed in. That was a trick he’d picked up from Dryker.

  “How will we find the transmitter?” Hannan asked, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “If it’s Mendez, won’t he just issue his orders before the battle? Delta, how often do you receive orders on that thing?”

  “Almost never,” Delta said, his words just above a whisper. He’d been mostly silent since Ship had used the Judicator assembly to restore his eyesight.

  “Excellent point,” Nolan said, drawing everyone’s attention. “The only way we’d be able to find the transmitter is if we were able to bait the person in control into using it. Delta, what kind of circumstance might force them to use it?”

  “Hmm,” Delta said, rousing from his funk. “I’d guess one of two men will be holding the reins, either Admiral Mendez or Admiral Chu. Those are the top dogs among the human brass. One of those two men is likely to be in charge of the assault on Tigrana.”

  “It will be Chu,” Nolan said, without hesitation. His eyes narrowed, as he considered his former benefactor. “Mendez is too smart to be caught in the open like that. Chu likes glory, so I’m betting Mendez puts him in charge of the battle. We find a way to force Chu to activate the chips, which identifies his flagship. Then we attack that ship.”

  “What if you’re wrong about the person in charge?” Lena asked, sipping her tea as if she were drinking from fine porcelain instead of a military surplus cup.

  “It won’t matter,” Nolan said. “Whoever uses the chip is in command, so if we get a signal we take down whoever is using it.”

  “We’re down to a handful of Judicators, just the ones that were being repaired when we hit the library,” Hannan cautioned. “Edwards is in a bad way, too. He needs a major refitting. Even if he didn’t, he’s not going to fit through a UFC starship’s corridors. That means it’s the people in this room, plus a handful of expendable robots, to take on an entire capital ship. Their Marine detachment will be at least thirty-six men, and that’s if it’s been stripped. It’s much more likely they’ll have over a hundred battle-trained Marines.”

  “That’s why they can’t be allowed to see us coming. We’re going to use Void Wraith cloaking tech,” Nolan said. He couldn’t help but grin as he pressed the button on the top of his new belt buckle. A tingle of static electricity rippled out from the belt, up to his head and down to his feet. A moment later, Hannan’s jaw fell open. Nolan tapped the button again and the field dissipated. “We have four of thes
e. That’s enough to get a small infiltration team onto the bridge. They won’t be ready for plasma fire, and they won’t see us coming. We kill Chu, and take the chip transmitter.”

  “That still leaves the issue of the chipped soldiers,” Delta cautioned. He seemed uncomfortable with everyone staring at him, but after clearing his throat he finally continued. “If they receive an order, they’ll follow it. Even if we stop Chu, the captains will follow whatever order he gives. They’ll take suicidal action, and if he tells them to ram the Tigris, they will.”

  Nolan considered that, waiting to see if anyone else spoke. No one did.

  “We’re going to have to jam the chip’s quantum entanglement,” Nolan finally said, the plan forming as he spoke. “We can get the entanglement from the chip in Delta, and when we hit the system we can start broadcasting. That will prevent the person from giving the order.”

  “How do we detect that person transmitting?” Atrea asked in her gravelly voice. She leaned forward, meeting Nolan’s gaze. “If you jam the entanglement, then you block the very signal you’re monitoring for.”

  “Good point,” Nolan said, sighing. “I can’t think of a way around that.”

  “Pardon me, Captain,” Ship said. “I may be able to solve that problem.”

  “How?” Nolan asked, glancing up.

  “I can write an algorithm that will monitor the entanglement. Any time it detects an activation, it will also activate,” Ship explained. “This will log any attempt to use the network, and prevent the bulk of any message from arriving.”

  “Your algorithm wouldn’t be detected until it started jamming, right?” Nolan asked, already warming to the plan.