Capital Starship (Ixan Legacy Book 1)

by Scott Bartlett

  In the meantime, Teth could be anywhere. The system’s sensor web should alert them if he reappeared, but then, it hadn’t alerted Fesky of his presence behind Tyros’ moon. Or rather, it had notified the Vesta of an unidentified vessel’s presence, but comically late. One of main purposes of a sensor web was to foil any ships attempting to sneak into a system under stealth, but given the time lag involved in communicating across star systems, the web simply wasn’t designed to account for ships capable of appearing out of thin air—or, thin space.

  “This isn’t how I like to open meetings,” Husher said as he entered the conference room, which was populated at last with everyone whose presence he’d requested, “but what the hell just happened?”

  He tossed his com onto the broad conference table, and it chose that moment to light up with a transmission. The display said “Penelope Snyder,” so he ignored it.

  “Let’s start with you,” Husher said, nodding toward Tyros Deputy Governor Pat Siegfried, who’d become governor the moment Teth snapped Jomo’s spindly neck. “What happened to your orbital defense platforms? Why didn’t they prevent Teth from getting to the planet’s surface, and why did Jomo cooperate with the Ixa to lure my marines and I down there?”

  Siegfried folded her hands together on the desk, returning Husher’s gaze with one of calm. “Your first question is simply answered, Captain. The Ixan warship appeared underneath the orbital defense platforms. For reasons that would have been obvious until this week, the platforms have no weapons that point downward, and if they did, their use would involve significant risk to the population below.”

  “So they would,” Husher said. “And Jomo’s actions?”

  “Were coerced, of course,” Siegfried said. “The Tumbran and her aides were held at gunpoint and forced to do as they did.”

  “A Tumbran met us at the elevator,” Husher said. “Unaccompanied. Instead of warning us, he led us straight to the slaughter.”

  Shaking her head, Siegfried said, “All I can tell you is that we were all terrified of the Ixa and their capabilities, Captain. They seemed to know things they couldn’t possibly know, including many things we’d done in their absence.”

  “It’s like the Prophecies all over again,” Fesky said.

  The Ixan Prophecies had been a series of texts the Ixa had begun publicizing throughout the galaxy after the First Galactic War. They’d predicted a number of events, including humanity’s downfall, and as the next galactic war unfolded those events had started coming true.

  It eventually came to light that the prophecies were the work of a superintelligent AI, whose ability to run simulations of the universe had granted it a pretty good handle on the future. Not perfect, though.

  “It is like the Prophecies,” Husher said. “Which makes sense. We can expect Teth to be working with AIs who are at least equal in power to the one that devised the Prophecies, probably greater.”

  “Sir?” Fesky said.

  Husher glanced at the Winger askance. “Uh, yes?”

  She held up her com. “I…just got a message from Penelope Snyder asking to speak with you.” With that, her com started buzzing. “She’s calling, now.”

  Husher held out his hand, and Fesky passed over her com. Answering it, he barked, “Not now!” Then he ended the call and tossed the com back to Fesky.

  Clearing his throat and ignoring the heat creeping up his neck, Husher pressed on: “We’ll get to the return of the AIs a little later, and what it means for us. For now, I’d like to hear from you, Governor Siegfried, about how Teth managed to disable your entire planetary net, given it’s a decentralized technology, and designed to be resistant to an outcome like this one.”

  Now, it was Siegfried’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Governor Jomo and I collaborated on implementing a kill switch for the entire planetary net, late last year.”

  Husher squinted at her. “Why in Sol would you do that?”

  “We saw it as a safety precaution.”

  Snorting, Husher said, “You’re going to have to enlighten me on that one.”

  “In the event of widespread planetary unrest…we wanted the ability to exercise control over the, uh, narrative, that the public was getting in an emergency. If we needed to.”

  “Well, it turns out your kill switch made you uniquely vulnerable. If you hadn’t implemented it, we would have heard about the Ixan incursion from your planetary net, and Jomo might still be alive.”

  Siegfried had the decency to look abashed, but apparently Fesky wasn’t satisfied. “Planetary nets, the old micronet, the internet in its earliest form—these are considered the saviors of democracy by more historians than I can name. And you decided to subvert all that with a switch?”

  “That’ll do, Fesky,” Husher said, and the Winger fell silent, though her feathers still stood at attention. He returned his gaze to Siegfried. “Governor, is there anything else you’d like to share with us? Anything you think we’d benefit from knowing?”

  “There is,” the new governor said after a brief pause. “In the weeks leading up to the attack, we kept experiencing random blips from the sensor web, which was telling us that craft were periodically appearing then vanishing throughout the system. We assumed the web was malfunctioning, but…”

  “But now we have a theory that fits a lot better than that.”

  “Yes.”

  “These blips. Did they represent ships as big as the one Teth just used to pummel us?”

  “No,” Siegfried said. “Not nearly as big. They were closer to com drones in size.”

  “Interesting,” Husher muttered, then sniffed. “Teth spoke of a species he called the Progenitors. This is basically speculative, but I have a strong feeling that they’re the same species Baxa mentioned before we nuked him into oblivion—the same species that created the AIs themselves.”

  “Captain,” Siegfried said. “If the AIs truly have returned, why have they sent only one destroyer to attack us?”

  “Well, that assumes the Gok attacks are unrelated. But I take your point, and again, I can only speculate based on what we already know about the AIs that Baxa claimed have been loosed on the local galactic cluster. We know they operate on an extremely long timescale, and we also know they’re obsessed with efficiency. Maybe they think if Teth manages to apply enough pressure in the right places, he can debilitate the IGF—make us an easy mop-up job for whatever comes next. He told me that if I ‘want all this to stop,’ then I should present myself at the former Baxa System, which we now call the Concord System. Not only that, he wants me to bring someone named Jake Price along with me. Does anyone here know that name?”

  As he looked around the table, no one seemed to, but Fesky spoke up anyway. “It seems like an obvious trap, sir. This might be exactly how Teth thinks he can debilitate us: by killing you.”

  Husher chuckled. “I’m flattered, Fesky, but I think you’re giving me way more credit than I deserve. I am not the IGF—the IGF is made up of millions of hardworking service members.

  “I’m going to deploy a com drone to the Damask System, which Admiral Iver named as his next destination, to seek his guidance on how to proceed. Hopefully, he’ll see the wisdom in recalling the Vesta’s battle group to rejoin their capital ship, instead of continuing to pursue a relationship with a species who are known allies of the one that just attacked us.”

  Fesky was nodding, as were Amy Fry and Peter Gamble. Governor Siegfried looked resolute. Kaboh’s childlike fingers drummed silently on the conference table, and he beheld Husher with an appraising look, but he said nothing.

  As everyone filed out, Fesky paused next to him. “Captain, Teth’s demand that you present yourself at the Ixa’s old home system…it seems to imply he’s set up base there.”

  “It does,” Husher said, feeling pretty sure he knew what was coming next.

  After a pause, Fesky said, “As far as we know, Ek is still there, sir. She might be in danger.”

  Husher nodded. After they’d d
efeated Baxa, Ek had remained on the Ixan homeworld. Her years of spacefaring had taken too great a toll on her aquatic body, and if she’d continued her interstellar travel, she likely would have died. So she’d remained on Klaxon instead, to live beneath its ocean.

  “She likely is still there, Fesky. But as much as it pains me to say, she’s not our primary concern. We can’t embark on a rash foray into Concord just to save our old friend. It’s a noble sentiment, but acting on it could very well put the fortunes of the entire galaxy at risk.”

  A tremor ran through Fesky. “You’re right.” Bobbing her head, she left the conference room.

  Chapter 21

  It Rings True

  After shuffling through the dimensions a thousand times, a million times, Teth’s destroyer emerged into what he’d come to think of as the Prime Reality. And why not think of it that way? He came from this reality, after all, and it would certainly serve as his crucible. For him, no other truly mattered.

  As for where they might be inside that coveted universe, which he believed himself destined to dominate, it was very difficult to say. That they might be billions of light years away from the Milky Way was more likely than not, and thanks to the shifting relationships between the various universes, it would take no shortage of trial and error to figure out how to return to the galaxy that was his target, not to mention the time it would take to recharge the Apex’s capacitors enough for another interdimensional journey.

  But that’s the price we pay for being forced to flee, isn’t it?

  He slammed a massive fist onto the arm of his throne-like command seat, causing most of the bridge crew to jump. Not Breka, though. No, his Strategy auxiliary was as calm as always. A sturdy Ixan, Breka, of the purest bloodlines.

  The engagement with Husher had not ended the way Teth had envisioned. He hadn’t expected the captain to perish, of course, though he certainly would have welcomed that outcome. The AI that had been assigned to Teth advised him not to expect Husher’s death this day, and he hadn’t, no matter how hard he’d tried to achieve it.

  He had expected to leave Husher much more…diminished than they had, however. Teth had meant his Cleavers to tear up the Vesta’s innards, and his particle beam had been intended to find something vital.

  His intel had claimed Husher was weakened, a shadow of the bold young lieutenant who’d faced him during the Second Galactic War. He’d certainly seemed pathetic inside Piper Hall, and also during their remote exchange from aboard their respective shuttles. But the human’s swift reaction to the particle beam, which was technology he couldn’t possibly have known about…

  …well, that reaction had reminded Teth of Captain Keyes, his old nemesis, who’d died in the attempt to kill him.

  Clearly, Teth needed to readjust his expectations, and also to apply his intel on Husher in a more intelligent way.

  That began with motivating his crew.

  “Communications auxiliary.”

  “Yes, Immaculate One?” the auxiliary said, cowering a little.

  “Be not afraid. Summon my entire crew to the Deployment Bay. I wish for my eyes to feast on their strength while I address them as one.”

  “W-what of ship functions, Immaculate One?”

  “We’re in the middle of the void,” Teth said gently, forked tongue playing over his fangs. “There are no enemies to face here, no navigational hazards to concern us. We can rest, if only for a brief moment.” When he finished, Teth removed his ceremonial broadsword from the rack that held it fast to the back of the command seat, secure in its sheath. He affixed that sheath to his waist, toying with the idea of stopping in his quarters to behold his reflection before continuing on to the Deployment Bay.

  No. He would deny himself that pleasure, as he denied himself many pleasures. That was part of what kept him honed.

  Ixa darted past Teth as he strode through corridor after banner-hung corridor. They took great pains not to disturb him as they rushed by, but they also feared the consequences of being out of place once he arrived inside the bay.

  Most of the corridors’ banners were identical in color to those he’d ordered hung around the Tumbran Hall, though some were the white of purity, and others were the black of space. Teth enjoyed the grandeur they brought to his vessel—he felt they lent his cause the weight it was due.

  When he entered the vast Deployment Bay, his thousands of Ixa were deployed in perfect ranks, just as he’d known they would be. The augmentations the Progenitors had made had turned his brethren into exquisite soldiers; lightning-quick, their physical might now unrivaled even by the Gok. The enhancements had come out well enough that the Progenitors had since expressed an interest in cloning tens of thousands more Ixa, with the intention of making them their main infantry unit in the coming war. Teth had given them his blessing.

  In the front row stood his Primary Officers, the purest and most cunning from among the Ixa that had survived the last war with the humans. All of those Ixa were now arrayed before him.

  “Strategy auxiliary Breka,” Teth called, his voice amplified via a device woven into his uniform’s collar.

  “Yes, Immaculate One?” Breka called, meeting Teth’s gaze without flinching.

  “Come to the fore and stand at my right hand.”

  With crisp form, Breka marched forward, about-turned, and stomped his foot, coming to attention beside his Command Leader.

  “This,” Teth said, spreading his hand toward Breka, “is an Ixan. He was the architect of the plan that finally succeeded in exterminating all the half-breeds and purifying our species. The Ixa form a body, and that body was once plagued with disease, but now we are healthy once more. Is that not so, Strategy auxiliary Breka?”

  “It is so, Immaculate One!”

  “And tell me, to whom does victory offer itself?”

  “Victory offers itself to the strong, Immaculate One!” Breka called.

  “Yes, but how did the strong become strong?”

  Breka fell silent, presumably while he puzzled over the answer.

  “I will tell you. The strong won their strength by denying themselves what they wanted in the moment so that they could have what they desired for the future—power. In a word, the strong became so through sacrifice. Does that ring true for you, Strategy auxiliary Breka?”

  “It rings true, Immaculate One!”

  “And if two strong beings enter combat, who wins?”

  “He who is willing to sacrifice most, Immaculate One!”

  “Not only that, Breka. Victory belongs to he who is willing to make even the ultimate sacrifice, if that is what victory requires.”

  “Yes, Immaculate One.”

  “Strategy auxiliary Breka. You are unarmed. If I drew my broadsword—” Steel rasped against leather as Teth exposed the gleaming weapon. “—would you die as a coward, or would you kneel, willingly sacrificing yourself to me, if that was what I required?”

  Without hesitation, Breka knelt, pushing down the collar of his midnight uniform in order to better expose his neck.

  “You are the best Ixan before me, Breka,” Teth said, and he swung his sword overhead.

  The blade flickered downward, and Teth paused with the razor-sharp edge just kissing the back of Breka’s neck.

  “Rise, Breka,” Teth said, with some mirth. “You have reaffirmed your worthiness.”

  The Strategy auxiliary stood tall. With that, Teth put his entire body into swinging the broadsword at Breka, cleaving the Ixan from his neck to just below his right pectoral. The hulking Ixan slid from Teth’s blade to the deck, spasming.

  “Do not fail me again,” he told the remaining Ixa as he marched out of the Deployment Bay.

  Chapter 22

  Fairly Specific Intel

  In a rare empty moment, Husher found himself fishing Keyes’s wooden crucifix from his desk drawer and letting it dangle from his fingers by its leather thong.

  Admiral Iver’s reply had arrived via com drone on the fifth day after Husher sent th
e request for orders. It informed him that the order had already been sent for the Vesta’s battle group to rejoin her with all possible speed, and that they should be underway within the next three days. That would mean a week or more before they joined their capital starship in the Wintercress System.

  At least it gives us time to avail of Wintercress’ shipbuilding facilities for some much-needed repairs after our scrapes with Teth and the Gok.

  The drone had also contained orders concerning what to do once the Vesta’s battle group returned: together, they were to patrol the Union’s most far-flung systems, or at least the ones closest to the Ixa’s old home. Iver had apparently drawn the same conclusions from Teth’s demands that Fesky had: the Concord System, formerly the Baxa System, was almost certainly his base of operations, and so that was where they could expect new threats to originate from.

  For two decades, the Interstellar Union had been working with the Integrated Galactic Fleet to make member systems as safe as possible. Planetary colonies with populations over two million enjoyed a full complement of orbital defense platforms, and every system saw regular patrols, either from capital starships and their battle groups or individually operating warships.

  Even so, the systems nearest the former Baxa System were among the smallest and most under-defended in the Union, and so it was the decision of the admiralty to deploy three of the fleet’s eight capital starships to exclusively patrol those systems.

  Husher had to hand it to the admiralty—their orders were decisive, which was somewhat uncharacteristic for them. Normally, they were just as…concerned with placating politicians and bureaucrats as Husher was, as evidenced by Iver’s willingness to sign off on his termination if he hadn’t agreed to the Awareness Training.

  As per IGF protocol, Husher ordered the com drone stowed with the other four that comprised his supercarrier’s automated communications fleet. Building, maintaining, and storing the drones added up to an expensive proposition, and after exchanging messages it was standard practice for both parties to simply keep each other’s drones for future use.