by Isaac Hooke
“I think the odds are fairly high that they have,” Jonathan said. “Though some of them are probably racing toward the Slipstream at this moment, intending to travel through and attack us for disabling their comm nodes. If they’re lucky, they’ll get here before we finish charging the particle beam.”
“According to Otter, they’ll never reach the Slipstream in time,” Barrick said. “The enemy fighters weren’t that close to it.”
“What about any slugs they launch?”
“Those won’t reach either, but you’re right, we will have to be careful of slugs when we emerge,” Barrick admitted.
“Well, at least lasers and EMPs can’t travel through Slipstreams, so we’re safe on that front,” Jonathan said. “By the way, you never did say what rank and rating Valor held before he took control of the Talon. Nor that of his bridge crew.”
“That’s because I don’t know,” Barrick said.
“You’re telling me you have no idea how qualified they are to run a starship?” Jonathan said.
Barrick’s grin seemed slightly sheepish behind his faceplate. “Maybe they have really good training AIs.”
“Great,” Jonathan said. “We could be crewed by deck swabbers.”
A minute passed.
Barrick spoke: “The probe has docked, and the particle beam is fully charged. We’re proceeding through the Slipstream.”
seventeen
Jonathan compressed his lips anxiously.
“We’re through,” Barrick said. “According to Otter, we had to initiate an emergency climb to avoid the incoming slugs launched from the mag-rail equivalents on the fighters. The Talon released its particle beam at the same time, and took out sixty percent of the fighters with one shot.”
“Not bad,” Jonathan said. “Except now we have to wait two minutes for the beam to recharge.” He set a timer on his aReal.
The bridge rumbled slightly.
Before Jonathan could ask, Barrick said: “Remaining enemy fighters are making a strafing run. We’re taking fire from their lasers.”
“The Talon has no other point defenses?” Jonathan asked. He suspected as much from the previous engagements, but wanted confirmation.
“No,” Barrick said.
“So we’re sitting ducks until they complete their flyby,” Jonathan complained. “Mag-rails on the fighters, but none on the ships.”
“Yes. Unfortunate.” Barrick glanced upward as if receiving a mind message. “The squadron has passed. Valor has ordered the Talon to accelerate to full speed. The enemy fighters are still turning around, struggling to compensate for their previous momentum.” He paused. “Otter says Valor just cut all thrust, and he’s swiveling the Talon’s nose, bringing the conical beam to bear on the fighters.” An instant later: “He’s fired slight braking thrust. Allowing the fighters to approach.”
The timer on Jonathan’s aReal reached the two minute mark.
“The Talon just fired,” Barrick said. “And apparently eliminated another five fighters. He’s ordered the Talon back to full speed, putting some range between his ship and the fighters while the weapon recharges. It looks like the plan is to pick the enemy off one by one like that: accelerating out of range while the cannon recharges, then slowing down again until the pursuers enter firing range... wait... the remaining fighters have turned back. They’ve realized the pointlessness of the pursuit and are retreating toward the wormhole.”
“Good,” Jonathan said. He sighed. “My first battle as a non-participant. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it.”
“We’re braking again,” Barrick said.
“What? Why?”
“Apparently we’re going to pursue them,” Barrick said.
“Why not let them go?” Jonathan said. “We’ll lose valuable time that could be better spent putting distance between ourselves and the Slipstream. There are other enemies approaching from the other side, remember. And besides, it’s the right thing to do. Always show mercy to a defeated opponent. Tell Valor.”
Barrick responded a minute later: “Valor says if we destroy them now, that means less fighters we’ll have to worry about in future engagements.”
“And that’s where we disagree on military doctrine,” Jonathan said. “Tell him it’s not worth it. We might sustain more damage. We were lucky to emerge relatively unscathed during the initial flyby. That might not be the case if he persists.”
Barrick took a few seconds to reply. Then: “Valor says he will teach you Zarafe courage.”
Jonathan raised his hands in exasperation. “It’s not about courage! Ah, forget it.” He leaned against the bulkhead, and watched his aReal count down the seconds until the beam was ready for its next discharge.
“The fighters are spreading out,” Barrick said. “They’ve realized they won’t make the wormhole before they are in range of our particle beam. Some of them are turning back at steep angles. The Talon is firing... three more fighters taken down.”
The Talon spent half an hour hunting down the last few fighters in that manner. Two of them managed to escape through the wormhole. Luckily, the ship took no further damage.
When the last of them was gone, Barrick said: “Valor wants to know what you think of his command abilities now. He’s gloating, I think.”
In response, Jonathan muted Barrick and addressed Chief Galaal instead; he knew the MOTH was listening because his name was on the guest connection area of the aReal, alongside the names of everyone else in his party. “Chief, instruct the four combat robots guarding the Dragonfly to take shelter inside the craft. I’m going to have the AI launch the telemetry drones.”
“Will do, Captain,” Chief Galaal returned.
Jonathan tapped into the Dragonfly’s AI. “Dragonfly 1, activate the telemetry drones and attempt to make contact with the comm nodes in the system.”
“Aye, Captain,” the AI responded. “By the way, the combat robots are safely aboard.”
“Thank you,” Jonathan said.
A moment later the AI responded: “The telemetry drone is unable to contact any comm nodes. The alien hull is likely interfering. Either that, or there are no compatible comm nodes out there.”
“Prepare to launch telemetry drones on my mark,” Jonathan sent the Dragonfly.
He intended to dispatch the drones thirty thousand kilometers on either side of the Talon to increase the chances of reception. It was possible the hull was interfering as the AI said, however previously Barrick had been able to contact them via the onboard comm node alone, so that might not have been the problem. Even so, Jonathan wanted to get his own sensor reading on the system, and he couldn’t do that while the drones were locked up in the bay.
“Aye, Captain,” the AI responded. “Ready to launch.”
Jonathan turned toward the telepath. “Barrick, have Valor evacuate the atmosphere of the hangar, and open the bay doors.”
“Valor asks why,” Barrick replied. “Given that I have already relayed all the details of the system to you.”
“Tell Valor to vent the atmosphere and open the hangar bay doors,” Jonathan repeated.
“Valor doesn’t see the point—”
Jonathan took a step toward Barrick. “Tell him!”
Barrick paused. Finally: “He will do as you ask.”
Jonathan switched channels: “Dragonfly 1, inform me when the hangar doors are open.”
A moment later the AI replied: “Hangar bay doors are open.”
“Launch telemetry drones,” Jonathan said.
The AI echoed his orders.
He waited a few minutes. “Well?” He sent the AI. “Do we have a comm ping yet?”
“Negative,” the Dragonfly’s AI answered. “There do not appear to be any comm nodes in the system. However, I am detecting what appears to be debris consistent with such nodes above Prius 3A, and near the farther Slipstream. There is more debris directly surrounding both wormholes. Likely the remains of the Gates. I am also detecting intact alien probes in orbit
around either Slipstream, however they appear to be deactivated.”
“And the dome colony on Prius 3A?” Jonathan asked.
“It is non-responsive. Maximum zoom on the thermal band reveals no heat radiation from the dome whatsoever. It appears that the colony, and the military base it housed, is destroyed. Debris consistent with two United Systems corvettes resides in orbit.”
Two hundred thousand people.
Keeping his back pressed to the bulkhead, Jonathan bent his knees at a ninety degree angle, and hardened the rear portion of the leg assemblies so that the spacesuit would hold his weight. Then he relaxed his muscles, effectively sitting down. His right knee throbbed slightly from the effort of momentarily holding that position, but the pain quickly subsided as he settled in place.
“Did you hear all that, Rodriguez?” Jonathan said.
“I did.”
“Thoughts?” Jonathan asked.
“The Raakarr obviously came this way,” Rodriguez replied. “Some of them, anyway. They were days ahead of us, remember.”
Days ahead, because of the detour I made.
In the Elder galaxy, he should have flown to the closer Slipstream like his crew counseled. Instead he had chosen the farther wormhole, wanting to directly follow the Raakarr, not trusting the Elder. And now there was an alien fleet on the loose out there, wreaking havoc along the United Systems border territories.
While the choice was perhaps a mistake in hindsight, he refused to second guess himself. He had done enough of that in the past.
“What the Raakarr have done here should count as a failure of the Elder’s test,” Rodriguez continued, interrupting his thoughts. “Attacking our colonies for no reason, without provocation.”
Jonathan considered that. “Maybe. But remember, we don’t even know what the rules of their game are. What constitutes unworthiness in the eyes of the Elder? And here’s an angle you probably haven’t considered: maybe the Elder want us to fight. And maybe they’ll eradicate whichever of us loses the resultant war.”
“Losing makes us unworthy, then?” Rail asked over the comm.
“Like I said, we don’t know the rules,” Jonathan told her. “They said we have to prove ourselves worthy of the planet killer. Does that mean fighting without it? Or using it strategically? Perhaps not using it at all? Or maybe simply keeping the Elk faction from forcibly taking the planet killers from us?”
“I hate aliens,” Rodriguez said.
Jonathan laughed. “I won’t disagree there, Captain.”
Barrick interrupted their discussion. “Valor asks that you recall your telemetry drones so that we can proceed at full speed toward the next Slipstream.”
“Dragonfly 1,” Jonathan said. “Return the drones to cove.”
“We should head to the ruins of the dome colony on Prius 3A,” Sil Chopra said over the comm. “And search for survivors.”
“Ordinarily I would agree with you,” Jonathan said. “But unfortunately time is of the essence at the moment. We can’t tarry. An enemy fleet is out there, ravaging our other border colonies. We have to inform Central Command of the threat as soon as possible, and do what we can to mitigate it.”
“But surely NAVCENT knows of the threat by now,” Chopra said. “An invading fleet wouldn’t be able to destroy every comm node in time. Nor every ship in a given system, not before they fled to the next one.”
“We don’t know that for certain, not yet,” Jonathan said. “The invaders may have initiated some sort of stealth attack. And what about the valuable data we carry, and the specimens? NAVCENT definitely doesn’t have those. And you’re forgetting we have three more ships in pursuit. If we spend several days detouring to Prius 3A, we’re only giving our pursuers time to catch up. Besides, if the colonists didn’t evacuate in time, we both know it’s unlikely the Raakarr left any survivors. Those who escaped the particle beams would have died of radiation poisoning a few hours later anyway. The lack of oxygen from the dome failure would have compounded matters.”
“It sounds more like you’re trying to convince yourself, rather than me...” Chopra said.
“Perhaps I am,” Jonathan admitted.
“Several sentient AIs might have survived,” Dragonfly 1 interjected.
“They’ll have to fend for themselves for the moment, I’m sorry,” Jonathan told it.
“Drones have returned to cove,” Dragonfly 1 said a moment later.
Jonathan hardened his resolve and then stood up fully once more. “You can tell Valor to close the bay doors and get under way whenever he’s ready.”
The bridge crew set a course for the far Slipstream and accelerated. The expected arrival time was three days.
Since there was nothing of interest transpiring on the bridge, Jonathan made his way back to the party’s shared berthing area. The two combat robots escorted him and Barrick, along with two of the darkness-clad Raakarr. The filaments lighting the passageways had returned to blue in coloration.
Barrick parted ways some distance from the destination—he quartered in a different area of the ship apparently, which suited Jonathan just fine. The telepath’s description of the compartment made it sound like a sick bay of some kind.
After passing through the airlock and into the shared berthing area, Jonathan discovered that one of the waiting combat robots had already erected a psi-shielded tent for him; Jonathan went inside, removed his helmet, and ate some of the vitamin-laden gruel the Raakarr had provided for them.
Jonathan called a meeting of the crew shortly thereafter. He had everyone pull up the map of Prius 3 on their aReals, and they discussed various ways of ambushing the pursuers, should the enemy come.
They all agreed that the best course of action at the moment was simply to run. Jonathan wasn’t entirely pleased with that conclusion, and found himself missing the tactical input of Maxwell and Miko.
But discretion was the better part of valor, as Robert was so fond of saying.
The pursuing laser ship and its two dart escorts entered Prius 3 half a day later. The enemy mirrored the Talon’s trajectory, heading directly toward the inner Slipstream. Their commodore once more called for Valor’s surrender.
The Zarafe captain didn’t bother to respond.
Yes. Discretion. The better part of valor.
eighteen
Robert sat at his place before the Round Table, and ran his gaze across the officers who manned the various stations. Rald Lazur at the comm station. Tara Lewis at the ops station. Peter Moley at the helm. Sarah Ernest at nav. The other officers.
His eyes drifted to the windowless, curved bulkheads beyond them, and settled on the master-at-arms near the entry hatch. He recognized Petty Officer Connolly, the MA who had obeyed without question when Robert had ordered him to remove Captain Scott from command during the battle for the planet killer.
All of these loyal men and women, ready to obey me. The Callaway and her crew, and the other captains of the task group, mine to command. For the next six months, anyway.
He never wanted the command thrust on him. He had always wanted to earn it, and a part of him resented the fact that Jonathan had unceremoniously departed, leaving him in charge of the fleet like that. While it was doubtful anything of note would transpire in the Elder galaxy while Jonathan was gone, still Robert wasn’t entirely happy.
Though he had to admit, if he was truly honest with himself, that it was good to sit in the captain’s chair again.
He had in fact been offered a command position on a vessel called the Rampage, due to enter service five months from the current date, but by the time he got back to his own galaxy the position would be long since taken. He doubted the offer would have remained even if he returned earlier, because of the inquiry he had to face for his part in the mutiny. Jonathan said he would protect him, and Robert knew the captain would certainly try, but somehow Robert doubted he would be able to. Robert’s involvement was clearly documented in the holographic drives of Maxwell’s memory banks. A partia
l copy had been included with the drives Jonathan had brought aboard the Talon.
He wondered who would be given command of the Rampage in his stead. He hoped someone worthy.
He remembered telling the captain he intended to turn down the position anyway. But after experiencing a taste of command shortly thereafter, he had regretted that decision. He felt he was holding himself back, perhaps out of a misplaced sense of loyalty to the captain.
He sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t get another chance at command again for a long time. If ever.
Better enjoy it while I can.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then glanced at Miko beside him. The officer was talking to someone, though Robert couldn’t hear because of the noise canceler.
When Miko finished his conversation, Robert extended his own noise canceler around him and said: “Liking your new chair, Lieutenant?”
“I could definitely get used to this,” Miko said.
Robert had chosen him as his acting first officer, though Miko still served as tactical officer as well.
“Really?” Robert said. “And what about all the administrative paperwork? Dealing with complaints from the various department heads?”
Miko shrugged. “It does eat into my spare time a little. But it’s not like I have anything better to do.”
Robert cocked his head. “I thought you composed symphonies in your off hours?”
Miko nodded. “Well sure, but it’s really just a hobby, something to do to pass the time while on deployment. To be honest, I haven’t made anything new in a while. Guess I haven’t felt inspired, lately.”
“Not much inspiring out here these days, is there?” Robert said. “You’d think, being in another galaxy and all, we’d see some fairly amazing stuff. And yet it’s not so different from our own. Not at all.”
“Same feces, different pile,” his first officer agreed.
“Miko,” Robert said, feigning surprise. “Watch your gutter mouth!” He grinned mischievously. “Though in the future, if you’re going to spout a crude saying, I’d prefer if you used the actual words. The effect is kind of lost in euphemism.”