Tethered Worlds: Blue Star Setting

by Gregory Faccone

  Some were not unlike Ek-Hein's dangerous resonance technology, the kind that had allowed Jordahk to damage and even destroy synced egresses last year. The kind that had almost killed him. And there were other systems. Not redundant, but augmenting.

  Just how many starkeels are in this thing?

  "It is not yet your time for such things, Jorh-Dahk," Khai said.

  She pulled him out of a dangerous reverie. All of the systems were duplicated at her station. She palmed the controls stalks, feeling all of the activity within the ship, and in some way where Jordahk was touching it. The introspection took Jordahk back a step. He found himself asking again, "Who is this girl?"

  The old relic hunter in him was curious about the systems, but not at the price likely necessary. "Yes, you're right. I think regular systems, if any part of the ship can be called regular, will keep us more than occupied."

  Three new contacts appeared in the battle-space display before him. They raced up from the mystic mothball yard.

  "Three T-Beam drones coming your way, Jordahk," Aristahl said.

  "Drones? As in an old-school cloud cruiser?"

  "Yes. The cruiser is nowhere to be found. There was nothing wrong with these. Barrister is busy, but I believe Max and Wixom can come up with AI for them. Check Aurora's datalattice for a starting point. She has experience with them."

  "I don't know how to fight with drones."

  "Think of them as mobile shields with guns. Let them take the heat for you. If that does not work, you can always use them as expensive missiles. Alb-Sone is going to send you something big. I am heading for the back where they put a fireship and other nonstandard designs."

  A part of Jordahk wanted to express more doubts, but obviously, his grandfather believed in him. Khai-aLael followed his lead without question. That made him more nervous about decision-making. There was more to consider than his own three-gun salute.

  "I have three ships leaving the Perigeum line," Khai said. She spoke like a seasoned veteran. "A command cruiser and two destroyers heading into our vicinity."

  "Glory hounds, looking for targets of opportunity, I bet. I thought P-Stars were more disciplined than that." It was risky, going unprotected. Ships of that size could get swarmed by frigates, corvettes, or in the old days, even starfighters. But the Vallum Corps had nothing to spare for flank cleanup. "Time to use our mobility. Get ready to harass."

  A new ping appeared on the VAD.

  An old mystic frigate?

  "What do you think, Jordahk?" Alb-Sone asked.

  "I think I'm shocked you got something so big to work."

  "A lot of hardware here simply lacked an advanced touch to reactivate. But don't get your hopes up. It's been stripped of all but one T-Beam. No maintenance drones. No repair. But it's got half decent shields and armor. These kinds of mystic ships were tough. Stay behind it. Take care, Khai-aLael."

  "Yes, uncle."

  "Aurora, rendezvous times?" Jordahk asked.

  "The three drones will arrive before we have contact with the command cruiser and escort. The mystic frigate's going to take longer."

  He took a deep breath to hide the effort necessary to keep his hopes up. How was he going to prevent two destroyers and a command cruiser from taking potshots at his grandfather and Alb-Sone?

  "It will be harder for them to hit us than it was for you to hit me in half-gravity," Khai said.

  She was getting a little too good at reading him.

  His heaviness lifted. "If we're that hard to hit, we'll be facing frustrated commanders indeed."

  "Incoming comm," Aurora said. "I've rebuffed a number of automated requests, but according to Maximilian, this one you should take."

  A man's face appeared. There was minimal delay at this range with full bandwidth light speed communication. He had blondish hair cut close on the sides and unkempt on top. A thick neck went into a navy-issue ship suit.

  Something about the man's slightly crooked nose was familiar. He noted the ship ident was Adams Rush Navy.

  "He's the captain that stood next to the Iron Commander," Max link-said, "when we pitched our kooky egress plan last year."

  That crystallized the memory. Jordahk recalled the captain's expression. So proud to stand next to the legend. He read the information floating next to the comm VAD. "Field Liaison to the Deputy Polemarkh for Tactical Deployment?" He had planned on a formal greeting, but the bureaucratic title threw him off. "Uh, is that a promotion?"

  "More like a headache. Glad you remember me. The Iron Commander backed you, and I backed him. But the less we say over this comm, even encrypted, the better. What're you doing here?"

  "Just trying to help?"

  Mason shook his head in incredulity. "You're a strange one. I suppose whoever's breathing life into the mothball yard came in with you."

  Jordahk nodded. Suddenly, Mason's signal distorted. There was a flash behind him, and people ran by. A section of the Vallum Corps's main line was awash in dispersed rainbow-colored plasma. One ship fell out of formation, plasma jetting from broken bulkheads. It began launching boats.

  Mason maneuvered his displays with flailing arms while barking muted orders. His voice came back at the tail end. "No, tell the boats to go all the way to the other side. Use the civvie stations. Nothing here in front is going to last." He looked back at Jordahk. "I can't send you any support. I'm sorry. You're welcome to join the end of our line."

  "Thank you, Captain, but we'll stay out here and protect the staryard from strays. We've got people down there."

  "Protect them with what? An ancient corvette from a defunct space force?"

  "We've got help coming up."

  Mason paused to look at his displays. "Drones?" He closed his eyes a long second and raised his eyebrows. "Good luck."

  Despite how the numbers sounded, seven hurting frigates could not take the place of two destroyers and a command cruiser. Not on a heavy line of battle such as this, where the big boys were slugging it out.

  "Gruppe Lieutenant, the Sentis just went dead."

  Pheron didn't give a damn about anyone aboard his former command cruiser, but some of the men in these frigates had served with him since before Adams Rush. Breixo's frigate managed to limp back to the colliers. The Sentis was more shot up. At least it didn't explode.

  "Is it launching boats?"

  "No, apparently a collier is rendezvousing with it."

  "That's not standard procedure."

  Back on the trimensional, Pheron followed the battle like the tactician he was. It was frustrating. He had nominal control over seven wounded frigates, and was trapped in Commander Moron's place on the line while he went off glory hunting. If the man survived, he was looking at a court-martial. Then again, victory covered a multitude of sins, especially if he accomplished something helpful.

  They were winning this battle through force of numbers, not brilliant tactics. But in the end, did it matter? The other side was just barely holding it together. They didn't even have a beat of battle. He checked the Perigeum beat. In about 30 seconds, all of their largest ships were to pummel the sole, remaining Vallum Corps battle station. It could take punishment, but it wasn't mobile. The Perigeum Starmada had firepower to spare.

  He would have employed more orderly tactics. It would take about a day longer, but there would be less loss on the Perigeum side. Of course Commander Moron wasn't interested in that kind of thing, and Pheron was convinced the man had orders to see him finished. There was no reason to lose more than a couple of squadrons in this increasingly one-sided battle.

  A flash on his displays indicated one of his frigates had caught a high-caliber rock. A lucky shot from this distance. He was down to three consolidated gruppes.

  "Alpha and beta, break up the box. Form an open cone on gamma." That formation made them harder to hit and helped them cover each other, though it was less helpful to the overall line.

  "Sir," his sub-ensign said, "we won't be able to fill our designated place."

>   "Let Commander Decard worry about that."

  He had to hand it to the Vallum Corps. They were holding together with more discipline than the Perigeum fleet. Then again, in their situation it was hold together or die. Well, they were going to die either way, one just took a little longer and let them die with honor.

  "Do we have a line of sight on the battlestation?" The ship AI painted a positive targeting solution. "I want to participate in the next beat."

  The seconds ticked down. The full tactical display of space was spread before him. His ship fired small, frigate-caliber rocks, followed by their T-Beams. Space filled with blurs and pink streaks, all converging on a distant point. Numerous flashes blossomed into one. Prominences of rainbow plasma grew from it.

  The Vallum Corps fired a somewhat staggered response, which was the tactically correct thing to do. Take advantage of the side that had just lined up for a shot and expended significant energy. The Perigeum line took a number of hits.

  The Vallum Corps battle station appeared behind the fading bloom of light. It was still there, but weakened. Much of their line seemed to be angling for it, apparently to use it for cover. They might have to rethink that soon.

  A special warning lit on his displays. The flagship was ordering a path cleared on an upcoming beat. The Vallum Corps was going to have even more to reconsider.

  "Here comes overkill."

  Prime Orator Janus saw a bright future for himself. He didn't just want to gloat, he wanted to revel in it. The way things were shaping up, visions of reshaping the power of his office formed.

  The command chair was poised at the front of the flag bridge, high above the ship's bridge. Before a gigantic display of burning blue space, Janus stood, too anxious and excited to sit.

  "Continue priority targeting of Adams Rush ships."

  "Acknowledged," Flag Admiral Buisart said. A tinge of hesitance colored his answer.

  "There is no tactical benefit to that fire scheme," Sybaris said. "And premature focused fire upon their battle station at this extended range cost us an unnecessarily strong counterattack."

  The First Cruiser began to vibrate. The engineers couldn't prevent it. It was a tremendous technical achievement the ship could contain so much power for even a short time. The hybrid power caps were new and unproven.

  "I don't expect you to understand that battle is more than tactics and numbers. It's about blood and will and morale. Three things you're quite short of."

  One thing Sybaris did know was frigidity. She found new ways to lower the temperature of glares, without being openly disrespectful, of course.

  Adams Rush owed him a particular debt, and he was enjoying partial payment. Having the front of his previous First Cruiser chopped off was a personal affront. Losing the primary Earth egress was a financial disaster resulting in significant damage to his term. No, Adams Rush would feel his wrath. First in ships, eventually in infrastructure, and soon a list of specific people, as he identified them. Too bad that fossil, the "Iron Commander," was already gone.

  The incoming Cohortium Magistrate was a fool for undermining a defense that kept the Asterfraeo Territories from annexation for two centuries. But to do so for selfish reasons? Janus could understand it, but selfishness with that much stupidity deserved all the comeuppance it naturally accumulated.

  "You can't separate a fool from his foolishness."

  "No sir," Sybaris said, "you cannot."

  Janus narrowed his eyes. After this battle it was time to get her a new personality. Enough was enough.

  "I want to keep an eye on the mystic X-factors this time. What's happening off the main line?"

  "A mothballed staryard segment has floated a few ancient mystic craft," Flag Admiral Buisart said. "Nothing of consequence."

  "Mystic can lead to Sojourners. And when Sojourners are involved, anything can be consequential."

  "A command cruiser and two destroyers have broken away from the line without explicit orders," Sybaris said. "They're heading for that area."

  "I've given that wing commander extended... flexibility," the flag admiral said. "Would you like me to recall him?"

  "No, I like a little initiative. It will be a while before we're in range of that yard. Can our line stand the loss of those ships?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then let them cause trouble, and let's see what X-factors surface." Janus had no doubt his smile looked predatory.

  The ship's vibration increased. He sat down to ride out the final part of the cycle.

  "Caps at seventy-five percent," Sybaris said. "Please confirm target."

  Janus reached into his display and clenched his fist over the next object of his wrath.

  That monstrous... supercannon was charging up again. It was quite adept at clearing out stations, static defenses, and pesky moons. Heat dispersion lines glowed from one end of its hull to the other. He wouldn't know its exact target until the enemy ships cleared the path.

  "Any second now," Mason said.

  A tunnel of ships formed at the center of the Perigeum fleet. The analysis was quick.

  "Oh drak." The packed up segment of Atalantia was low priority once its remaining mystic section came to life. A stuffed superhauler and a pair of haulers attached to the folded staryard segment were crawling out of harm's way. They would not be successful.

  Frantically, Mason dictated evasive maneuvers, but they were not warships that could dodge the fire of hell about to rip across space.

  "All ships, fire upon the First Cruiser immediately if she bears."

  As expected, the two Aegis class, which never left their flagship's side, left only the cavernous muzzle of the ship-cannon exposed. It glowed like a miniature sun with energy about to be released.

  Sporadic fire from his ships streaked down the enemy tunnel. Most was deflected by the granix plates of the Aegis cruisers. The cannon fired, gobbling up the rest in a white, pink-edged T-Beam that lit every ship on both lines. The intense bar of energy bisected the blue space of Windermere. It passed next to his line, streaking beyond the effective range of normal ships, to connect with the hopelessly cumbersome yard segment.

  It fractured for a brief instant before turning into a ball of expanding plasma. The beam seemed hardly weakened as it continued on, blazing into space.

  The two haulers, once attached to the yard segment, were caught in an expanding furnace of such intensity that their explosions were hardly discernible. The superhauler was overtaken by the expanding ball. Its stern was pushed up violently, snapping the massive ship in half before it was also lost in the intensity. Windermere was bathed in light less pretty.

  The Vallum Corps line, moving backwards in fighting retreat, was trying to incorporate the last battlestation. It had been moving its orbit outward for some time to make the rendezvous sooner, but stations were not ships, and their movement was negligible. Mason was losing hope that bolstering their line with the station would buy them much time anyway. Not with that monster cannon out there.

  He could feel it charging up in his gut, the minutes ticking down before it chose its next victim.

  "Radiated ingots! What was that?" Jordahk asked.

  "It's an Artemis," Max said. "A ship-cannon. An old idea, but one whose time has apparently come again."

  "The shape, and all those heat dispersion lines. Where have we seen that kind of thing before?"

  A generated image of a similarly featured hybrid frigate rotated before him. It wore the colors of the Archivers.

  "Those were at Adams Rush. So Pops was right. The Archivers' advances have already begun to propagate.

  "The drones are here," Aurora said.

  "Any luck, Max?"

  "I wouldn't expect much from their guns, but we can fire them," Max said. "Wixom had some adaptable routines. Those drones might be the only craft at Windermere that can keep up with us, so we concentrated on their ability to intercept fire."

  "That is good," Khai said, "because the Perigeum pocket gruppe is here. We ne
ed to engage now to protect the staryard."

  Aurora was already displaying maneuver sequences for Jordahk to choose.

  "Aurora, keep the maneuvers to something we might actually be able to pull off."

  "But you're of the line. I can sense it in your touch of my systems."

  He didn't think his heart was behind that concept yet. He exchanged an awkward look with Khai. Perhaps Thule-Riss, himself, spent time piloting the Aurora when fashioning her uniqueness. But crazy enhancements and unknowable "manifestation" modes were beyond Jordahk. He became aware of Wixom scrutinizing him again.

  "Don't get any ideas, Wixom," he sub-whispered. AIs with hidden agendas were dangerous things. "Let's all try to get through this undamaged," he said aloud. "Max, help Aurora determine what's 'normal.'"

  The maneuvers were pruned and reordered. A drone hustled onto the display. It was stripped of any fleet colors, wearing only faded light gray. Its back was all engine nozzles, and its fuselage was covered with half a dozen round bulges for shield controllers. A single T-Beam muzzle was mounted at the nose.

  Jordahk selected a series of maneuvers and moved the control stalks. He could feel so much potential power. "Get those drones in front of us."

  Khai worked up targeting solutions. Good aim was one of her strengths, and she started with the destroyer he wanted to strafe first.

  The stars turned in the display, and though he felt only slight acceleration, by design, his position moved rapidly on the nav. In short order they were receiving fire from the three ships, but the Aurora was indeed hard to hit. Jordahk steered with her, choosing maneuvers and partnering through the stalks faster than he could speak.

  Destroyers were the largest of the boxy, no-outrigger designs. But their size allowed squarish shapes to stretch out at pleasing angles and wedges. Swooping down upon the faceted stern, Khai targeted its stacked, horizontal thruster assemblies.

  His body flushed with sudden heat. The control couch whisked it away. Through his right hand he felt a single, battlestation-sized T-beam charging. On his left, the same was happening to a trebuchet-sized hypergun.