Defiant

by Dave Bara

  “Perhaps we should wait for confirmation that there are no pending attacks in other systems,” said Dobrina. “This could be a decoy.”

  “It could,” agreed Maclintock, “or it could be just as it seems for now: a mystery.”

  “Sir, suggest we explore the system further and find out,” I said.

  “You read my mind, Captain Cochrane. Send a longwave probe back through the ring to report initial findings to the admiral. We will proceed in a wedge formation with Resolution taking point, dropping in on Altos inclined to the ecliptic of the system at thirty-three degrees. Join the formation at your leisure, Defiant. Match course and speed with us.”

  I did as ordered, as perplexed as anyone by what was—or rather, wasn’t—happening here.

  Our deep dive toward Altos would take almost nine hours. Three hours in, after a series of unremarkable scans that showed the system devoid of any hyperdimensional technology we could detect, I ordered my day shift crew to stand down for five hours. I’d need them later, perhaps, when we got close to Altos itself and hopefully found some answers to our many questions. We were dropping HD probes with information packets every hour, reporting back our position, progress, and the surprising lack of urgency in the system to Admiral Wesley.

  In return, we were told that plans to destroy the jump gate ring at Levant were being put on hold pending the outcome of our mission or lack thereof. There had been no reports of attacks of any kind on Union systems, commerce and defensive military moves were being conducted routinely and without interference, and life in the Union was proceeding as if all was normal. I even received a letter from my father—the pep talk kind, nothing very personal. I read it on my stateroom monitor, then sat back and wondered what we would do if nothing more happened. Things had been quiet for quite some time before the incident at Sandosa, and I found myself thinking it was possible things could return to that quietness, as much as that perplexed me.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” came Karina’s voice. She was standing at the screened half wall barrier that separated my office from our living quarters, still in full uniform and ready to return to duty at a moment’s notice.

  “A penny’s not worth much these days. And anyway, you should be resting. We still have”—I checked my watch—“three hours and twenty-one minutes before the rest period ends.”

  “So we do,” she said with her impish grin. That always got me in trouble.

  “My dear, we are in an enemy star system, 244 light-years from home, a potential crisis ready to explode around us at any minute, and all you can think about is sex?” I said.

  She shrugged. “We’re young. You’re virile. I’m bored. And quite frankly I was thinking something might actually happen once we get started,” she said. I laughed.

  “So you mean to bring the entirety of the Imperial Navy down on our three tiny ships simply by initiating sex with me?” She put one hand on her hip.

  “Women have been accused of worse,” she said. I laughed again. “Causing earthquakes, floods, comet strikes.”

  “I have to concentrate,” I said.

  “You ordered a rest period, Captain, so come rest with me,” she said, extending her hand. I gave her a mock-stern look.

  “No, she-devil! Away with you!” With that she took off her coat and started to undo her blouse buttons one by one. It was hard to keep my eyes on the ship’s system reports flickering across my monitor. She was quickly down to her underwear, then sauntered over to me and began rubbing my shoulders. They were tight and tense. Soon my uniform shirt was being unbuttoned and she was running her hands across my chest while nibbling on my ear.

  “The longscope is nominal,” she said.

  “What?”

  “My station. All nominal. See?” She pointed at my monitor. “Nothing to worry about. Now come and relax with me. We may not get another chance.” That much was true, and it could be forever. What choice did I have but to give in?

  I swiveled in my chair and pulled her petite figure into my lap, kissing her deeply while she straddled me. She was pleasurable in every way, but I still found myself feeling guilty about taking personal pleasure at a time like this. The fact was, though, that a lot of the day shift crew was probably doing the same thing right now, and how could I blame them? These were stressful times, and we were on a very dangerous mission.

  Once Karina had me on the bed, she worked me like it was our last night together. She had grown to be an exquisite lover, and I found myself enamored by every inch of her and by her every move in our bed.

  I had no idea how much time had passed as we lay together, her feeling small in my arms. I wondered if I should get up and check, but as I started to break our embrace, she stopped me by grabbing my arm.

  “Stay,” she said. “I have something to tell you.” That made me instantly uncomfortable. It was almost never good news.

  “What?” I whispered. She lay there silently for few moments more, breathing deeply. I held her dutifully, as a husband should when something important was about to be conveyed by his wife, but I was also impatient, worrying once again about my command after our long moments of marital bliss.

  “I stopped taking my pregnancy repressors,” she said quietly. I tried not to react too swiftly.

  “When?” I said, equally quietly.

  “After Sandosa. It’s only been a few days, but . . .” She trailed off.

  “But what?”

  “If we get through this mission, I’m leaving the navy. And I wanted . . . I hoped . . . to take part of you with me.” I understood her desire. I didn’t agree with her decision, but I wasn’t going to fight it right now. As members of the aristocracy, we had both given the seeds of life to our family repositories so that they could produce an heir if something happened to one or both of us. At the time it seemed like an unnecessary precaution to me, but now I was glad for it. I knew that this mission would only end with either me or Prince Arin dead, and if it was me, I wanted her to have that as a protection, as a last act of love from me.

  “You’re not saying anything,” she said, and I could detect the worry in her voice.

  “I have nothing to say,” I replied, then waited while I sorted through my thoughts and feelings. “Except that I love you. That I want you to leave the navy too, and that I want us to have a family. And I’ll do anything in my power to make that a reality.” She rolled toward me then, the gleam in her eyes showing her love for me, a love I was grateful for, a small piece of humanity in the harsh void of space. Then I kissed her, and my thoughts cleared of worries, regrets, vengeance, and guilt and were replaced by nothing but my love for her.

  Our flotilla approached Altos with extreme caution. Starbound went in first while Dobrina and I waited aboard our respective ships. Starbound did a scan of the surface, looking for HD signatures, but found nothing. Resolution went next in a reverse scanning pattern to Starbound’s, and then finally it was our turn to do the trick.

  Nothing.

  “What the hell do we do now?” Dobrina asked as we conferenced in the briefing room, each ship captain and their respective Historians on the visual screen. On the main display, Maclintock shrugged.

  “We wait. Admiral Wesley has ordered forty-eight hours of surveillance, and that’s what we’re going to give them. I’ve forwarded a scanning pattern to your XOs with my orders to commence immediately. In fact, they should have already started. We’ll keep sweeping the planet as ordered,” he said.

  “And if we find nothing?” asked Dobrina.

  “Then we count ourselves lucky no one lost their lives on this mission, and we go home,” said Maclintock.

  “Commodore, there is something in these reports that troubles me,” I piped up.

  “Captain Cochrane,” he said, spurring me to continue.

  “Sir, this planet is barely habitable. It’s essentially a dull gray ball with a
thin atmosphere. There are no mountain ranges, no cities, no rivers or surface water of any kind—in fact, no features at all that we can find. I’m not even sure humans could live there, let alone an advanced culture. Is it possible—”

  “It’s possible the Sri lived underground, Captain,” interrupted Serosian. “This much we suspect from our historical records.”

  I looked to Gracel for support. “I just don’t see how an advanced culture could have thrived here, underground or not,” I said.

  “There are large gaps in the records from before the war, as Master Serosian has said,” replied Gracel. I was taken aback. I’d never heard him called “Master” before. I continued.

  “Nonetheless, this seems implausible. We’ve done underground scans and found no evidence of facilities of any kind. It’s almost like this planet is a squashed ball of dirt. I see no way a civilization could have thrived here for half a millennium. But perhaps Master Serosian knows more that he would like to share?” I challenged.

  “There’s nothing to add to what I’ve already stated, and Historian Gracel has already confirmed my statements, Captain Cochrane,” he countered. The look on his face was one of annoyance, even anger at me.

  “We’ll continue our scans of the system. Those are our orders. When our allotted time here is up, we’ll leave as instructed. Is that understood, Captains?” asked Maclintock.

  “It is,” I replied.

  “Aye, sir,” said Dobrina. Maclintock nodded.

  “In that case—” His next words were drowned out by a shipwide alert klaxon.

  “XO to Captain,” said Babayan in my ear com.

  “Go,” I replied.

  “HD displacement detected four thousand clicks off our bow, sir,” she said.

  “Is it Vixis? Or a dreadnought?” I asked, rising from my chair and heading across the hallway to my bridge station.

  “Negative, sir,” replied Babayan as she rose from my couch and relinquished the chair to me. “Much smaller.”

  “HuK? Suicide drones?”

  “No, sir.” I looked to Karina for an answer.

  “Longscope officer?”

  “By configuration it appears to be a Lightship yacht, sir. And it’s already pulling away from us,” she said.

  “Away? To where?” She looked up to the main display.

  “There, sir. To Altos.” I looked at my tactical display, which showed the yacht making rapidly for the surface of Altos. “It’s looking as though it will make planetfall in the northern hemisphere of the planet, approximately 19.5 degrees north, sir.”

  I scrambled into my chair and shut off the alarm klaxon, then linked my personal com into the fleet line with Dobrina and Maclintock.

  “Orders, Commodore? Do we pursue?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” came Maclintock’s voice. “At the pace she’s descending, we couldn’t catch her anyway. Let’s wait for her to land and form up over her.”

  “Aye, sir,” I said and gave the order. Eleven minutes later the yacht was on the ground and our flotilla was in geostationary orbit above her.

  “Who could be on that yacht? Is it Arin?” asked Dobrina over the fleet line.

  “Unlikely,” I replied. “The prince is a coward.”

  “That’s your opinion, Captain,” said Maclintock. “But if not him, then who?”

  “Tralfane,” I said. “Impulse’s original Historian, and likely Vixis’s as well. Where else would that yacht have come from?”

  “Status of the yacht?” asked Maclintock.

  “Just sitting there on the ground, sir,” said Dobrina. “I say we go after it.”

  “Or bomb it from here,” I suggested.

  “Neither of those moves would be advisable,” said Serosian. “Historian Tralfane is here to negotiate.”

  “Then let him come up here and do it like a man,” replied Maclintock.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. This meeting must take place on Altos.”

  “Since when does the Historian Order dictate to the Union Navy?” demanded Dobrina.

  “Since now,” came Serosian’s calm, cold reply. At that, Defiant’s systems began to go offline one by one. Propulsion, weapons, astrogation. Only minimal critical systems remained powered. I swiveled around to Gracel’s station and found it empty. I knew where she was: onboard her own yacht.

  We were betrayed.

  “We will not negotiate with our enemies—” started Maclintock.

  “And who are your enemies really, Commodore?” said Serosian. “The old empire? The Sri? Robots left by the Founders?”

  “I will not participate in any negotiation under these circumstances,” said Maclintock.

  “Your position is irrelevant, since you are not invited to participate in the negotiation,” Serosian said. The yachts from Starbound and Resolution detached and started heading for the surface of Altos as we watched helplessly on our visual display, the only display system still working. “In fact, the only person invited is the only man who is truly in a position to negotiate for the Union, and that is Captain Peter Cochrane of Defiant.” Then our fleet com channel went dead, and we lost all communication with each other. The decision was up to me.

  I sat in my darkening bridge, a rage building inside me.

  Altos

  Everyone begged me not to go: Karina, Lena, Layton. But I had to go. Things had changed in an inexorable way, and I was a prisoner to the way the wind was blowing me.

  The walk down to Gracel’s quarters, which was also her yacht, was annoying—eleven decks of open ladders because she had cut off power to the lifters. When I arrived there were a dozen marines outside her doors. I waved them off and told them to stand down. There was nothing more to it. I stood outside and rang the door chime, which seemed preposterous, but what else was there for me to do?

  “Order your men back at least thirty meters,” came Gracel’s scratchy voice over the intercom. I waved them back and had them drop their weapons for added measure. I was going willingly because I had no choice. The reason didn’t matter.

  I was going.

  The yacht doors hissed open, and I stepped through without incident and into a darkened cabin, the doors shutting quickly and vacuum-sealing behind me. “Proceed to the command deck. You’re familiar with the design, I’m sure,” came her voice. I did as she asked, going down the stairs from her quarters.

  When I arrived she was sitting at the main console, her visual displays showing telemetry and tracking the other two yachts as they descended to the surface, making a triangle of potential enemies.

  “One shot with a coil cannon,” I said. She turned sharply from the console and looked at me with her steel-gray eyes. There was a coldness and disdain there that I had never seen before.

  “You’ll never get that chance,” she replied, then waved a hand over the console. I felt the yacht detach from Defiant, and we started our trip down to Altos. The main display screen quickly switched to a visual display as we descended toward the dead gray globe, a red blinking crosshair showing our intended landing spot. Gracel got up and approached me, stopping just in front of me, close enough for me to physically overpower her if I wanted.

  “The console is locked for our destination, Captain. There’s nothing you can do to stop it,” she said.

  “Perhaps not. But I could stop you,” I said, and I was angry enough to try it. She smiled wryly.

  “You would find that much harder than you think. I do understand your anger, Captain. Your power, your potency, all taken away from you with but a small gesture of our ability to control you. But you should respect that power. After all, we gave it to you,” she said.

  “And now you’ve taken it away. Why?” She took a step away from me, then pivoted back to face me directly.

  “Your own personal actions at the Battle of Pendax, snuffing out human life wi
th disdain—those actions have changed our outlook on your Union, Captain, and on you,” she said.

  “You mean I’ve brought this on myself? By defending the people I love?” I asked. She shrugged.

  “In a way. We were looking for a leader, a special kind of leader. You were a disappointment.”

  “A dis— I should never have trusted you,” I said, my rage yearning to break free, my fists clenching in anger. Perhaps she sensed the rage in me and took another step back.

  “Without our help, your worlds would still be backwaters, your ships stuck in your own star systems, fretting about your petty planetary squabbles. Quantar was merely an experiment, and you were the primary subject. You failed,” she said with disdain.

  I couldn’t contain my rage at her any longer and took a quick step toward her. I barely felt the pinprick of the needle in my arm as she swept her hand across me. Before I could take a second step, my arms and legs froze, and the room began to fade quickly around me. I was helpless. I felt her arms holding me up, then the support of a safety couch beneath me. Gracel leaned in close. I could barely make out her blurred features and her voice came through muddy but just comprehensible.

  “You’ll get all your answers when you wake up,” she said as the room went black around me.

  I woke up alone in the yacht. My body had returned to its normal functioning, and surprisingly my head cleared completely within a few seconds of waking up. Whatever Gracel had used on me had worked quickly and efficiently and wore off just as fast. I went to the yacht’s console, which was unlocked, and activated the sweeping visual display. Outside, the four Lightship yachts from Vixis, Defiant, Starbound, and Resolution were all parked facing each other with their gear down and stairs extended to the surface. There were four EVA-suited figures standing on the barren plain. I had no doubt the closest three were Gracel, Serosian, and Tralfane. The fourth, no doubt from Resolution, stood back away from the main party. Obviously he or she wasn’t needed for whatever was about to transpire.