by C. Gockel
Supernova
Archangel Project. Book Nine
C. Gockel
Illustrated by
Tom Edwards
Contents
About Supernova
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Also by C. Gockel
Acknowledgments
1. Intruder
2. Reconnaissance
3. Dangerous
4. Quantum Disruptions
5. Treason
6. Someplace Safe
7. Special Delivery
8. Admiral on a Hill
9. Imperfect Evolution
10. Unpredictable Agents
11. Gabriel’s Star
12. Unauthorized Expeditions
13. Hunger Galactic
14. Donner Settlement
15. Bedlam
16. In the Presence of Mine Enemies
17. Fanservice
18. The Play
19. Discovery
20. The Program
21. The Only Constant
22. Battle Prep
23. Planet Zero
24. Carl’s Pride
25. Battlefield Zero
26. The Lion’s Den
27. The Final Battle
28. Deadly Surrender
29. Reprieve
30. Aftermath
31. The Dark Accord
Contact Information
Copyright © 2021 C. Gockel
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, subject “Attention: Permissions,” at the email address below:
[email protected]
Cover Illustration by Tom Edwards Design
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Print ISBN: 9798736932863
Created with Vellum
About Supernova
The final chapter in the Archangel Project Series.
* * *
Beyond the borders of known space a Dark Fleet is gathering …
Volka, 6T9, Carl Sagan, and their band of sentient faster-than-light ships are charged with finding the Dark’s forces. But the enemy is closer than any realize, and the Dark’s next strike will be sooner than they think.
When the attack comes our heroes will be forced to evolve once more. Volka has become a true telepath. To fight the Dark, she must become a true leader as well. 6T9 is capable of destruction with a machine’s lack of remorse. He must learn when to stay his hand...not just to save humanity, but to keep the woman he loves.
They must succeed, because the Dark has been evolving too. Carefully. Methodically. And it will stop at nothing short of the extinction of the human race.
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Also by C. Gockel
The Archangel Project
Archangel Down
Noa's Ark
Heretic
Carl Sagan's Hunt for Intelligent Life in the Universe: A Short Story
Starship Waking
Darkness Rising
The Defiant
Android General 1
Admiral Wolf
Supernova
I Bring the Fire (A Loki Series)
Wolves: I Bring the Fire Part I
Monsters: I Bring the Fire Part II
Chaos: I Bring the Fire Part III
In the Balance: I Bring the Fire Part 3.5
Fates: I Bring the Fire Part IV
The Slip: A Short Story (mostly) from Sleipnir’s Point of Smell
Warriors: I Bring the Fire Part V
Ragnarok: I Bring the Fire Part VI
The Fire Bringers: An I Bring the Fire Short Story
Atomic: A Short Story
Magic After Midnight: A Short Story
Rush: A Short Story
Take My Monsters: A Short Story
Soul Marked: I Bring the Fire Part VII
Magic After Midnight I Bring the Fire Part VIII
Other Works
Murphy’s Star: A Sci-fi Short Story
Friendly Fire: A Sci-fi Short Story
Let There Be Light: A Sci-fi Short Story
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Acknowledgments
This book wouldn’t have been possible without the help of a lot of people. Kay McSpadden put up with my many phone calls, enduring hours of brainstorming, complaining, and random tangents. The first draft was shaped with Kay’s feedback, and the feedback of Sarah Easterly, and Amy Eberhedt. All three of them pored over my digital pages multiple times before they’d been grammar edited, enduring massive eye twitches when I managed to spell names that I created wrong...multiple ways, over and over again. They caught plot problems, hats that came off more than once, point of view shifts, and helped me keep Volka, Sixty, Alaric, Alexis, and all of their crews in character. Amy in particular caught multiple factual inaccuracies, and problems with my math. (I love math! I hate arithmetic. At least, that is my story and I am sticking to it.)
Erin Zarro did the first pass for grammar, cleaning up the detritus of my dyslexic mind and suffered mightily for it. Louis Maconi ran through the book correcting the grammar and spelling faux pas I committed while fixing the problems discovered by Erin, and then my team of faithful ARC readers did a final pass—thank you Barbara and Genevieve! This book wouldn’t be possible without this team, and I owe them more than I can repay.
My family also had a role in this book. My husband was the one who convinced me to publish. Also, he puts up with me, as do my children (though they have less of a choice in the matter.)
Finally, this book wouldn’t have come to pass without you, dear reader. Thank you for reading, thank you for buying (and borrowing!) Thank you for reviewing and all your kind emails and posts on Facebook. I’ll try to keep writing as long as you keep reading and listening.
* * *
All the best,
C. G.
1
Intruder
Galactic Republic : The Asteroid S1O27.234935
Electricity surged through 6T9’s circuits, his vision went briefly white, and then he jerked out of power save mode. Sitting up and yanking his charging cord from his back, he surveyed his surroundings. It was dark within the asteroid’s mansion. Silent. But it was two hours, thirty-three minutes before his scheduled power up. Something had awakened him; something that his distant processors thought was dangerous. Grabbing the pistol on his nightstand and slipping from the bed as quietly as he could, he checked the real-time security data. Nothing appeared amiss.
He consulted his personal sensors, rewound half a minute, and discovered what had awoken him in his auditory logs: a thump from Volka’s room. After analyzing it, he estimated it to be a Volka-sized object hitting the floor from a height of one meter. Something had knocked Volka out of bed. He opened his door with a thought. Though cameras declared the hallway empty, he carefully peered out. Nothing was out of place. Still, he kept his pistol raised as he stepped into the hall. And then he heard fast footfalls coming his way. Milliseconds later, Volka rounded the corner, dressed only in her pajamas, in a dead run, head bent low. Whatever pursued her was silent.
“Duck,” 6T9 commanded, aiming his pistol above her head.
Volka's glowing gaze
met his. Her wolf-like ears shot forward, and then she dived. 6T9 fired, and the hallway was briefly lit by phaser fire, revealing … nothing.
6T9 cursed. “Where is the drone?” Cameras showed nothing. Some sort of camouflage tech?
“Drone?” Volka gasped from the floor.
“The drone chasing you,” 6T9 said, standing guard over her, pistol raised. His circuits sparked. “Or was it a human?”
“I’m not being chased, Sixty.”
Glancing through the triangle of his raised arms, he found her staring up at him, glowing eyes wide.
Surveying the hallway through his sights, 6T9 said, “You fell from your bed.”
“I was just excited.” Rising, she gently pushed his arms down. She did not chide him for firing a phaser above her head. For many Galacticans, just having a phaser would be considered dangerously unhinged.
A moment ago, all his systems had been primed to engage an unknown assailant. They were still primed. His sensory receptors fired beneath her fingertips. 6T9 was, first and foremost, a sex ‘bot. He derived pleasure from giving pleasure, and it had been too long since he’d had true fulfillment. He’d asked Volka to court him, to give her and him some time to adjust to their new apps. Volka had become a true telepath. He had recently changed his programming to give him the ability to kill, maim, and cause pain—pain that wasn’t the fun kind. He’d always been able to manage that.
Volka, unlike 6T9, was monogamous—a trait she’d acquired from her wolf DNA, just as she’d inherited glowing eyes and her wonderful ears.
His jaw tightened. She was almost monogamous. She’d had a lover. She didn’t growl for Captain Alaric Darmadi anymore, but she also was just a thought away from the captain, no matter where in the universe the man was. 6T9 had almost killed Darmadi for it.
Volka’s and 6T9’s courtship was almost entirely chaste. Keeping it so would make it easier for her to leave him, and so consummation would have more rewards than just pleasure. Circuits lighting, letting his gaze be obvious and slow, he traced the neckline of the V-neck tunic she wore over the rise of her clavicles down to where there was just the barest indication of her breasts. He let his eyes meet hers. Her pupils had dilated, and her lips were parted.
He jerked back. That was just the sort of manipulation he’d been incapable of before his programming change, and the sort of disregard for her well-being that had prompted him to suggest they forsake engagement for courtship …. That and his inability to decipher when and when not to be violent. The smell of melted plastic-paneling from the phaser blast just punctuated that point.
“Sixty?” Volka’s ears folded. “What’s wrong?”
“A glitch,” he whispered. But surely a kiss wasn’t too much—even alone, in the dark, in nothing but pajamas. He leaned forward—and FET12’s voice erupted from down the hall. “What are you doing?”
“When a sex ‘bot and a human like each other very much” was on the tip of 6T9’s tongue, but before it left his lips, FET12 demanded, “Why did you shoot your phaser?”
And maybe it was good the adolescent-appearing ‘bot cut that quip off. Considering the abuse FE12 had suffered, the words would have been cruel.
“A misunderstanding,” Volka replied. She sniffed the air, and her nose wrinkled.
FET12 came down the hall. He was wearing armor, with the exception of his helmet—he must have powered down in the suit. He’d taken to wearing it like a protective second skin. Even with the suit, the scars FET12 had acquired from his previous owners were visible in the dimness; they crawled up from his back to his skull in jagged spikes of raised red synth tissue. As if noticing the direction of 6T9’s gaze, FET12 slipped a hand behind his neck. It went against sex ‘bot programming to appear in any way repugnant, and FET12’s scars made the ‘bot uncomfortable for that reason. But when Volka and 6T9 had suggested FET12 get a synth-skin graft, FET12 had said, “But then I would be desirable.”
The other ‘bot was stuck in an inescapable if-then loop.
“What sort of misunderstanding?” FET12 asked suspiciously. FET12 had designated himself as Volka’s protector. 6T9 exhaled a breath he didn’t need. Considering 6T9’s thoughts just minutes ago, and the phaser blast, maybe she did need protection.
Ignoring FET12’s obvious suspicions, Volka put a hand through her short silvery hair, smiled, and winced. “I woke up really fast and fell out of bed.”
“Why?” FET12 asked.
Licking her lips, Volka’s gaze slid to the side. She smiled mischievously, and her ears perked.
“A deer,” 6T9 surmised.
FET12 sighed.
“It hurt its leg,” Volka said, eyes meeting 6T9’s. “I can feel its pain.”
6T9 noticed for the first time that Volka was wearing shoes with her pajamas. “And you will put it out of its misery?” 6T9 suggested.
Volka nodded earnestly. If she experienced any guilt about the slaying of an injured beast, 6T9’s apps detected none in her expression. Smacking her lips, she began backing down the hallway, and added, “Hopefully before Shissh. She’s not awake yet.”
Shissh was a Bengal tiger—or, more accurately, a quantum wave-controlling alien that belonged to the race known as The One, currently inhabiting the body of a Bengal tiger. 6T9’s former employer—now deceased—had stocked the asteroid with deer, and Shissh and Volka frequently hunted together.
“Should I bother cooking the bacon I intended for breakfast?” 6T9 asked Volka.
Stopping at the corner, she grinned. “Yes, we can pack it for lunch!” And then she disappeared.
Circuits dimming, 6T9 went to inspect the damage he’d done to the wall. The paneling couldn’t be patched, only replaced. He was technically only the caretaker for the asteroid, and he was only that so long as he resided here and took care of Carl Sagan, one of Shissh’s species, inhabiting the body of a long-haired golden werfle, a sort of venomous, ten-legged weasel with the coloring of an orange tabby. 6T9 was not supposed to cause damage to the grounds or property herein. Borrowing and subsequently getting the asteroid’s luxury spaceship destroyed had already gotten him into a heap of trouble.
Stepping back, he analyzed the problem.
FET12 padded over. “Maybe you could hide the blast marks with a painting?”
6T9’s circuits lit. “We could use one of Volka’s.” She had a lovely one of the Luddeccean sun shining on the hull of Sundancer, their faster-than-light sentient spaceship. Framed, it would cover the damage nicely and give a pop of color to the hall. Turning toward Volka’s studio, 6T9 took a step … and his vision went abruptly gray.
He found himself bodiless in the nothingness of a mindscape. His brain had been hijacked for what might or might not be an important message. If this were Lauren G3 trying to invite him to another virtual soiree, he would … he would …. His consciousness flickered in a sigh. He was going to politely lie and claim he was busy. Law ‘bot Lauren G3 was handling the whole destroyed-spaceship issue, and she was doing it pro bono. Which, considering the state of 6T9’s finances, especially post-spaceship, was important.
Someone else was using the shared server that was the mindscape, someone whose processing patterns were familiar. “FET12?”
“I’m here,” FET12 whispered. “I wonder who has called us.”
“6T9, FET12!” the voice of Time Gate 1 boomed through the gray, answering that query.
Most ‘bots, androids, and humans were intimidated by Time Gate 1, and FET12’s consciousness dimmed nervously. 6T9 should be intimidated—the gate could power down his server at any time—but somehow, he couldn’t be deferential toward the supercomputer. “To what do I owe this honor, Daddy One?” 6T9 replied. He let an avatar of himself appear in the mindscape and let that avatar study its nails.
There was a chuckle … that ended rather abruptly. “Lauren G3 is on her way to see you.”
“I told you not to put me in mindscapes with her unless it involves business—”
Gate 1’s thoughts overwhelmed a
ll other processes. “There will be nothing virtual about her visit. She is coming to your asteroid and will be there within the next twenty minutes.”
“Why?” 6T9 asked, dropping his feigned insolence. Had his legal case hit a snag? His former employer’s heir had tried to change the system’s local laws to subvert 6T9’s residency on the asteroid once already.
“No idea,” Gate 1 said.
“Thank you for the warning,” 6T9 said and meant it. Lauren G3 disliked humans and had said disparaging things about Volka. She also called 6T9 her “friend,” and it made static dance uncomfortably beneath his skin. He’d been called “friend” by humans and machines trying to part him from his credits or get him into bed. In over a century of existence, it never bothered him, and in fact, had intrigued him—how fascinating the human ability to lie—how equally intriguing that machines had been programmed to imitate the ability! Sometimes—especially when the intent was solicitation of sex—the lie had been welcome, since he’d desired the same. But from Lauren G3 … his avatar shivered.
“There’s more,” Gate 1 said. “Volka spoke of her telepathy aboard me and over Fleet tech in virtual meetings with you. I have doctored the holos and my own records so there is no indication that she is a true telepath.”