War Without Honor

by J. R. Geoghan

  And then there was Elexxan. His science team had all-but dismantled the ancient human warship, which now sat out in the sun like a dead animal, huge black pieces cut away and strewn across the ground. At last check, Elexxan had reported that he was nearly ready to test a weapon. The Prime had mixed feelings about a test. He was interested in verifying that the tech worked—but why wouldn’t it? Though it was hundreds of cycles old, the weapons were technically still new. But had the time jump changed them somehow? On the other hand, he had concerns that the human fleet intelligence would somehow sense their test, if the explosions were as powerful as they were said to be.

  He would let the test continue, if only to verify that something in his plan was going to work out correctly. And then, he would send the fleet out, ready to deliver them in person to Mars. Elexxan, for all his worthiness, may need to be replaced with Alexa, though. The science leader was too pushy and suspicious. He knew too much about his father’s clan’s plans.

  But the part no one knew about—the part whose existence he had jealously guarded—was also in motion. His fail-safe within the human fleet once the explosions started on Mars. The human resistance would be crushed once and for all in the Sol System, and its leaders murdered before they could escape to mount a new defense of Coloran. The Prime thought of Coloran, that sparkling jewel of a planet far away, his next point of conquest. So close to fruition…he needed to stall the Premier until either Calxen in the Luyten System or his assets on Mars reported that Axxa the traitorous war hero was captured in disgrace. Or killed. The Premier would face shame and be a malleable asset in the Prime’s continued ascendance.

  A new thought came to him. What if his assets in the human fleet could be of service to him now?

  “Lord, do you agree with that assessment?”

  The Prime came back from his thoughts slowly, and looked around the room. All eyes were on him. How long had he been lost in himself?

  He stood. “Everyone out!” As the group scampered obediently for the exit, he wandered over to the food processor to order a drink. A communication was forming in his head. Calxen and his team would have to fend for themselves.

  He swirled the liquid and stared into it. “Time waits not for the weak, my son. I’ve waited for you long enough.”

  Mars Command

  Krug was waiting for Kaela when she arrived at the requested time. The conference room was a little-used one away from the intelligence section where she spent most of her time. As always, his face held a suggestive leer about it, but this time it was mixed with concern.

  He swiped a note from his wrist comm to hers. “Read and destroy.”

  “I’d rather you told me. You know I despise traceable communication.” She couldn’t help but glance up at the camera in the room—disabled months ago, of course. By her.

  “As I’ve said before, you’re in no position to make demands. Total obedience is required.” He opened the door and walked out, leaving Kaela speechless. Something was off; he hadn’t tried to grope her or even say anything overly gaudy.

  She lifted her wrist and read the communication from Earth.

  Ten minutes later a noticeably pale Kaela was at her station in the nerve center. “Any news from Agra?”

  Her communications tech rechecked his log. “The last was from Captain Heres that he had detected the signature of an unidentified warship in the system. Arrived two hours ago.”

  That was the message that mentioned that Heres had recalled Kendra from the Coloran flight that had been hijacked. Kaela ground her teeth slightly. “Code a priority message to the Valor in the Luyten System. ETA?”

  The tech checked another panel. “All jump communications arrays are in working order. They will have the message within twelve minutes of transmittal.”

  Kaela pulled her tablet to her and typed in a message text, haltingly. Finally she swiped it over to the comm station.

  The tech glanced up after reading it. “Send this? Are you sure?”

  “Just send it, word for word.”

  Kaela got up and walked off, unable to stand being around when the message was received. Kendra would get what she’d wished for her whole life; a glorious death. The cause was worth the sacrifice.

  “Who gave this order?” Kendall demanded, slamming his palm on the conference table. The old man was furious.

  Krug swallowed noticeably. “I did, sir.”

  That brought the Admiral up short; he’d expected the decision to have been made far from his presence, across the galaxy. “What? Why?”

  Krug stood up from where he’d been seated across the table. “You know as well as I, sir, that we can’t allow that ship to operate so close to a vital supply line point between Ceti and Sol. If that Prax traitor came over to us—which was never actually proven—and then used this renegade human crew to hijack a transport…”

  Kendall pointed at him. “You’re spinning this in a way that makes me uncomfortable, Krug.”

  The junior Admiral pressed on. “I did the research you asked me for—you saw it. This Halloran claims to be a long-lost Earth naval officer. Claims his ship was time-jumped. No evidence whatsoever.”

  “There was that odd energy spike on Earth several days ago.”

  “Not enough data. Then he goes rogue after our fleet loses several more ships and hundreds of crew in an effort—your effort, sir—to give the ‘defector’ room to leave Earth. But no, they skip out to Pluto, blow up Charon Station and hijack the Coloran transport.”

  Kendall tossed his tablet down and began pacing, hands clasped behind his back.

  “So now they’re in the Luyten System and Valor discovers that they, in league with a Hauler crew, have boarded an unidentified warship with a Prax drive signature.” Krug paused. “Sir, I think we’ve gone as far as we need to with this farce. That ship—its crew—is a grave risk to the security of our lifeline to Coloran. My destroy order was justified.”

  Kendall stopped and stared out of his viewport at the red landscape, lit by Sol. Finally he spoke without turning. “Alright, let’s clean this mess up once and for all. I stand by your order, Krug.” He half-turned to the younger officer. “Thank you for helping clear my head.”

  “Sir, I’m as frustrated as you about it. But too many good people have died already.”

  Kendall turned back to the view, sighing. “Go and make it official.”

  “There’s something else, sir.”

  “What?”

  Captain Kendra is on Agra Colony. I believe that she was perhaps aboard the Valor as of the last transmissions.”

  Kendall slumped noticeably. “She was on her way to Coloran. I thought she’d gotten through by now…”

  “I’ll make sure she stays safe, sir.”

  Kendall didn’t look. “Thank you, Krug.”

  Kendall didn’t turn in time to see Krug’s satisfied smile as he walked out of the office.

  Part Eight - Christening

  Chapter 52

  Luyten System - Aboard Trellixan

  Axxa looked over the command station, then tapped a bit of glass display on the left arm. The main screen changed to a 3D rendering of the moon, their ship and the smaller vessel. Another one was moving away at a distance.

  Axxa pointed to the last one. “That’s the Hauler shuttle. The human Fleet warship,” he indicated the newcomer, “is letting them go. The other shuttle is approaching us.”

  “What are they doing? Are they from this cruiser—the Valor?” Halloran was watching him manipulate the controls.

  “I do not know.” He looked at Halloran. “I suspect Captain Traxxus would have already destroyed it out of protocol.”

  “With?”

  “The ship’s weapons. A plasma cannon in particular.” Axxa had a patient look on his face, and Halloran had a flush of embarrassment.

  Axxa walked over to Carruthers’ station and tapped a display. “Some of this I do not fully understand—there are unusual upgrades in this ship that I must research. But, I se
e sixteen active plasma cannons. Also, there are twenty-four projectile cannons. Hmm, the directed-energy weapons seem newer as well. There are twelve emitters spaced around the vessel.”

  Reyes whistled. “We’re gonna need a weapons specialist.”

  Djembe spoke up. “Hey Prax. Is this the core inducer?” He was pointing at a panel near his seat.

  Axxa glanced across. “Yes, that is correct. You have attitude and pitch…” Several words in Prax that didn’t translate followed.

  Djembe held up a hand. “Okay, son. I get it.” He manipulated several controls and looked up at Halloran, nodding. “We can initiate maneuvers at your command.”

  “Get us moving away from wherever that Fleet ship is hiding. We need time to figure our own ship out.”

  “Plotting a course away from the moon now.” Djembe added under his breath, “I guess I’m taking orders again.”

  Halloran tapped his shoulder. “Only until we get you back to your own ship, Djembe.”

  The approaching shuttle voice across the speakers started hailing again. “Unidentified vessel—.”

  Axxa cut the voice and turned to Halloran. “The ship’s sensors have detected something.”

  Halloran walked back over. “Now what?”

  Three blobs hung on edge of the 3D rendering, with their ship still located at the center of the sphere. The moon was visible, as was the hazy outline of the Valor beyond it.

  “What are those dots?”

  “Ships.”

  Halloran could see the shuttles—they were much smaller. The new blips were coming in from a new direction.

  “Three? Fleet?”

  Axxa tapped a few spots on the panel, watching the numbers scroll up. “The drive signature is consistent with Praxxan warships.”

  Halloran put his hands on his hips. “Keeps getting better and better.”

  “There are several smaller vessels accompanying the larger ships.”

  “ETA to our position?”

  “Within fifteen minutes.” Axxa leaned over to show something on the controls to Carruthers, who’d been watching him manipulate the sensor station with rapt attention.

  Halloran waved Reyes over. “Get Antonov up here, now.”

  “Yes, sir. That I know how to do, at least.”

  Djembe looked back. “Do I initiate your last order to move away?”

  “Hold that for a moment.”

  “Can I point something else out?” The pilot was motioning for Halloran to come closer.

  Halloran obliged, watching Axxa out of the corner of his eye as the Prax instructed Carruthers, pointing at controls.

  Djembe pointed at a display on his own console, showing a flat rendering of their proximity. His fingers swiped to enlarge the view. It was a camera shot of the approaching shuttle. He glanced up at Halloran. “If they’re from that Fleet ship, they’re too far from to get back in time before the enemy ships arrive.”

  Halloran frowned. “We can’t leave them out there to get blasted by the Prax.”

  As he straightened from the display the bridge door opened and admitted Antonov, who quickly walked down the steps to where everyone was gathered. “I was with several of the crew figuring out where things were stowed in the medical bay and galley.”

  Halloran walked him over to Carruthers’ station and pointed to the display. “We’ve got a situation.”

  Antonov leaned in. “So that’s us in the middle, I presume. And the moon…so these five blips are new contacts?”

  “Yup.”

  “Hostile?”

  Halloran glanced at Axxa, who’d moved away and was standing next to Deacon at the corner of the bridge. “Apparently they’re Prax warships.”

  The Russian whistled. “Not what we needed right now. We can barely find our way around this vessel. And not enough crew.”

  “Well, we’ve got good weapons, but no tactical knowledge of how to use them. We’ve got ship’s control,” he pointed out Djembe.

  “So we button up and head in the opposite direction.”

  Halloran shook his head. He’d been thinking about the new ship’s vector. “I think they mean to attack the colony.”

  “Isn’t there a human warship out there?”

  “Yes, and that’s another wrinkle; there’s a shuttle from that ship hailing us from close aboard. They won’t be able to get to their ship in time to avoid being in the crossfire of whatever goes down.”

  “Can we ID the Prax ships somehow? Like we do with sonar signatures.”

  Axxa spoke up. “They have been identified as Prax warships and smaller attack craft. Recent design. In fact, the computer showed us the ship names and current captains.”

  “How?”

  “This is a Prax computer, Captain Antonov.”

  The Russian looked at Halloran. “We’re one of them.”

  Halloran matched his stare. “And…they won’t know who we really are…until we’ve got the drop on them.”

  Antonov nodded slowly, a small grin forming at the corner of his beard-stubbled mouth.

  Halloran grabbed Djembe’s shoulder. “Get that shuttle aboard our bay as soon as humanly possible—tell their pilot about the trouble they’re about to be in if they don’t.” He looked up at Carruthers. “Can you raise the Valor’s Captain?”

  “Calling them now, sir.”

  It took only moments for a voice on the speaker to respond. “We have your transmission, unidentified—.”

  “Get me your Captain now, son,” Halloran ordered the voice.

  A new voice came on. “Put us onscreen.”

  Halloran nodded at Carruthers, who frowned and tapped away at her console. Nothing happened, and after a long half-minute she looked up helplessly.

  “Unidentified warship, did you receive our last?”

  Halloran motioned Axxa toward Carruthers. Do something. “Um, yes, we’re…”

  “Confirm receipt of transmission.” It was a hard female voice. She sounded offended.

  The screen at the bow end of the bridge shifted from a space view to a man’s face, clearly a Fleet officer on a businesslike bridge.

  “So, Captain Thomas Halloran I presume,” said the man, who was on the young side and looked brash to Halloran’s practiced eye. Good.

  “Correct, and you are Captain of the Valor?”

  “Heres, that’s right.” He frowned ever so slightly.

  Halloran shrugged. “It was a guess; your Admiral Kendall told us to expect you at the Charon Station.”

  Heres was a study in stone-faced. “The one that was destroyed by Prax. So what next? Are your Prax conspirators going to attack the colony—.”

  Halloran stopped him with an upraised hand. “No time for this, Captain. Let me explain what you’re going to do…”

  Luyten System

  Calxen watched the moon growing in his forward camera view. “Time to intercept?”

  “We are moments away.”

  “This ship, the Trellixan, why is it here and not responding to our hails?”

  Jaxlen, the attack commander, shook his head. “I do not know. What I do know is that it was sent to my base by the Sol Prime himself—I received the order personally. The vessel is a new creation.”

  “And its captain is Traxxus?” Calxen knew Traxxus.

  “Yes, definitely.”

  Calxen opened a channel from his seat next to Jaxlen over to his own vessel, which moved ahead of the three Prax warships. “Fryax, scan that new Prax ship for anomalies. Report.”

  Fryax’ voice came back immediately. “We have been doing so, Lord. All appears normal, other than the fact that it is positioned there in the first place and that the ship possesses advanced shielding. Life form readings are inconclusive. Strange, Lord.”

  “Agreed, that is odd indeed.” Calxen looked at Jaxlen. “Your suggestion?” He deferred to the mission commander despite his misgivings. The thick Prax officer was battle-tested but not well-liked back on the homeworld. That was why his father had chosen him to
build the covert base and plan the surprise raid on Agra.

  Jaxlen hesitated. “I was to expect Traxxus. Here he is, with what is obviously his new ship. I suggest we use caution but approach it.”

  “Lord,” said a Prax tech nearby on the bridge, “sensors are picking up human warship drive signatures beyond the moon. Most likely that of the cruiser we observed recently decelerating into the system.”

  Jaxlen nodded to the other. “He will have to show himself very soon, if he is to get between us and the colony. His one ship will not prevail.”

  “Lord, the Trellixan is moving out from the moon orbit. Toward our flight path to the colony.”

  Calxen asked, “Are they powering up weapons?”

  “Not that we can detect, Lord.”

  “Begin the bombardment of the colony with plasma and long-range projectiles.”

  “Firing now, Lord.”

  Jaxlen opened a military channel. “Traxxus, respond.”

  “Lord, I’m getting a garbled video transmission in response.”

  “Put it on screen.”

  The large monitor lit up with a cacophony of gray-green pixels, intense static that smudged the feed from the other ship. In the feed, they could see a Prax officer in uniform, talking to the camera and gesturing. The sound was as mangled as the video. Then the screen went dark.

  “Lost the transmission, Lord.”

  “I can see that,” frowned Jaxlen. He looked at Calxen. “Did that look like Traxxus? I think he was wearing a captain’s rank.”

  Calxen tapped a red finger on the arm of his seat. “I am not certain it was him. My memory is old for Traxxus. It has been many cycles.”

  “Lord,” the tech announced. “Trellixan is adjusting course to match our own. The human vessel has appeared around the moon and is also taking an intercept course. Confirmed human cruiser-class warship, recent design and weaponry aboard.”

  Jaxlen rubbed an eyebrow in thought. “Align the three of us to take the human vessel with broadside volleys of projectiles. Just before firing, hit its sensor points with directed energy bolts.”