“We won’t fit,” O’Brian said.
Avery clenched his teeth. “We have to.”
Exeter burst from the cavern, the hull groaned. The dorsal hull struck a section of the asteroid and ripped it away.
“Helm, maximum acceleration!”
Exeter’s tiny spec surged away from the asteroid as the subspace tear engulfed it.
“Micro jump, as close as we can for system’s edge.”
“Ready, Commander.”
“Jump!”
The energy wave disintegrated the asteroid leaving nothing in its wake as Exeter transitioned to a short warp-hop.
Chapter 10-Ghosts
“Me? Sir, I’m a soldier not a tour guide” – Malcolm Lee
Space Station—Spero
United Star Systems Fleet Headquarters
Orbiting Earth
Aaron waited at the docking port for Star Runner and Exeter. Both were due to dock within the hour. Shepherd, once again had split his crew and sent them on different missions. He couldn’t be upset with regard to Vee.
Avery ‘Vee’ Alvarez, Aaron’s former XO, was a Commander now. While Aaron “recovered” in the USSF hospital after the Battle of Atlas Prime, Shepherd had roped Avery into a covert operations assignment and gave him command of Endeavor. That had come as somewhat of a surprise to Aaron since he knew Avery had no desire to command a starship, something his friend never let him forget. During the battle at the wormhole, Endeavor had been struck by an antimatter mine and was still undergoing final space-worthy tests and Shepherd had temporarily assigned Avery command of Exeter, the newest ship from Shepherd’s once top-secret ship-building program. Aaron’s ship Phoenix had also sustained major structural damage during its sojourn on the other side of the wormhole.
While both ships underwent repairs these past few weeks, Aaron had expanded his knowledge concerning the unique technologies used to build them. The dark-matter reactor, was an engineering marvel and not only because it was beyond his understanding.
Apparently, harnessing dark matter safely, took months. Thirty years ago the USS had found the phenomena several AU from Neptune. The minutest dark matter material measurement combined with new technology had enhanced warp drive power beyond known limitations. Usually, the bigger a ship’s mass, the more power needed to propel it at high multiples of c, consequently the converse was true, the smaller a ship’s mass, the less power it required to push it to higher multiples of c. This was the reason large battleships mainly patrolled close to star systems.
That was how high-speed couriers like Star Runner were born. The small sleek craft could traverse the United Systems in half the time, compared to a mobile weapons platform such as Phoenix.
That’s what warships, like their sea-going ocean-age counterparts were—mobile weapons platforms. Moving weapons from one point to another and housing the crew which operated those weapons. It was a given that starships in the twenty-third and twenty-fourth centuries became more versatile than mere weapons platforms. Their purpose was seen far beyond military and war as the wider public inherited hand-me-down technologies long possessed by the military.
The USSF commissioned starships for deep space exploration, survey, and all manner of scientific studies one might expect to encounter on the frontier. Of course, military starships still had the latest greatest weapons. So in a sense, they wouldn’t escape the designation of a mobile weapons platform anytime soon.
When Shepherd commissioned the Valkerie-class program over ten years ago, engineers envisioned using a dark-matter reactor to power exotic tech. The reactor enabled the warp drive to power a stronger warp field capable of pushing a ship of larger mass at higher multiples of c beyond the limits of older fusion reactors.
The reactor also powered the ship’s experimental defensive technologies such as the kinetic barrier. The barrier defense system fired gravitic charges from weapon emplacements, which could recess into the hull, similar to other weapon batteries. These charges, created by the dark-matter reactor, were gravitic energy held in small containment units. Hence, the ship had finite gravitic charges to fire until the reactor charged more.
The dark-matter reactor also allowed a short jump at lightspeed—a warp hop. Starships couldn’t engage a successful warp within a star system’s boundaries. The gravitational forces created a shear which would rip it apart. Captain Tyler Quinn’s sacrifice had tragically answered that question.
Without using the traditional warp drive to create the bubble, the dark-matter funnels the energy to the sub-light engines to create a sudden push. The result is a jump beyond lightspeed for a fraction of a second, thereby negating the effect of gravitational forces on the ship. As such, the micro-jump drive was born which some called the blink drive.
The reactor also increased the power of the new reflective polarized armor—exponentially beyond the previous absorptive armor matrix. The fusion reactor still powered normal ship systems and served as a backup.
The havoc heavy missiles used a sliver of dark matter which made them expensive to produce. The drive system on the missile was based on the micro jump drive. A brief kick in the rear by the powerful missile’s propulsion, boosted it just shy of lightspeed.
By the time Phoenix had returned to USSF HQ, the repair drones and nanites had sealed and repaired most of the damage using available resources aboard. Then Spero’s fabricators pumped out point defense batteries and hull plating, restoring the ship completely.
Aaron had just finished overseeing the raw materials transfer. Materials they could use to build more ammunition while deployed, or manufacture spare parts—or spare guns—if they had the time. Mining drones were nice, but the process to refine raw materials and build large components on the manufacturing deck, was time consuming. Theoretically, Phoenix and her sister ships could support themselves for hundreds of years so long as they kept spare mining drones aboard and didn’t lose all at once with no raw material to produce more.
And so long as it had a crew to point her to a star…
Three days ago, Lee and Yuri sent word they’d completed Shepherd’s assignment. They also mentioned that some fellow they rescued from slavers hadn’t said a word or revealed his name. Other than an extreme dislike for Shepherd sending his crew on missions without him, Aaron didn’t care who they’d found—he wanted to welcome them back personally.
The docking hatch locked, and the outer airlock pressurized. The inner airlock opened. Lee stepped out. Followed by Flaps, followed by . . .
“Platus?”
The elite Imperial Agent looked a little haggard, but Aaron would never forget that face. Sometimes, the image of Platus as he fell away on Atlas still flashed in his mind. Platus had saved Aaron’s life. While abandoning a stricken building during the bombing of Atlas Prime, Aaron nearly fell from the top of another tumbling structure. Platus caught him and hauled him to safety. Then Ben James shot Platus, and the Imperial fell from the building. The last thing Platus did as he fell away was breathe the name Quintus Scipio to Aaron.
The Imperial had saved Rachael too.
And by saving them, Platus had opened the way for Aaron to find Quintus. He’d learned that Platus’ brother was Quintus Scipio, Lord Commander of the Baridian Imperial Navy and together Aaron and Quintus had prevented a war.
Platus’ sacrifice had been the catalyst to uniting the bitter enclaves.
“Aaron Rayne.”
“Platus . . . does Quintus—” Aaron stopped and turned to Lee. “Does Quintus know you have him?”
Lee didn’t look impressed. “I don’t even know who we have. He never told us who he is, and neither did the Supreme Commander.”
Aaron shook his head. “Lee, may I present Lord Commander Scipio’s brother. The one who saved me and Rachael. Ben James shot him on Atlas Prime. Quintus thinks he’s dead!”
“That is unfortunate,” Lee said, still unimpressed.
Aaron stared wide-eyed. “No! This is . . . I have to give Quintus this news mys
elf.” He turned back to Platus. “I . . . I wasn’t exactly at my best when I first encountered your brother. It was tense to say the least. But I’m sure you’ll see things have changed a lot between our enclaves. Even between Quintus and I.”
Platus didn’t even blink. “That I have to see for myself, if you don’t mind, Commander Rayne.”
This overly serious personality must run through the Scipio family.
Aaron tried again. “You have to understand, Platus. Everything good that’s happened since that day . . . happened because of you. You told me to find him . . . and I did.”
Aaron relayed a summary of what happened after Platus fell.
The Imperial’s expression never changed as Aaron told the tale. “So I am a guest and not your prisoner?”
Aaron smiled. “You most certainly are a guest. A guest of honor.”
The Imperial didn’t look comfortable. Aaron understood that feeling. Platus was a high-level intelligence operative and probably performed countless operations and missions within the United Systems. His whole life, Platus had known only one enemy: the United Star Systems. Now everything was different.
Where did that leave a man like Platus?
Aaron wondered what horrors the Imperial might have faced these past months. He was nearly unrecognizable. “The politicians are still wrangling over many aspects of the formal peace treaty and possible alliance. It would be of high priority and of utmost sincerity on our part to return you personally to Quintus. I will lobby the Supreme Commander to allow us to depart at once for Hosque.”
The Imperial seemed pleased at his mention of the Imperial homeworld. “In the spirit of this friendship then, I have one request.”
“Name it, Platus.”
“I would like to see, Earth.”
Aaron considered the Imperial. “Lieutenant Lee will be your guide. I’m going to prepare for departure.”
Lee’s eyes widened. “Me? Sir, I’m a soldier not a tour guide.”
“You’re what I need you to be, Lieutenant.”
The slight rebuke didn’t phase his officer.
“This one will cost you, Aaron.”
Aaron flinched. Friends or not, Lee rarely broke protocol. The lieutenant wasn’t happy with this assignment. Platus wanted to see the birthplace of humanity…
What could go wrong?
Chapter 11-Marcus
“Silence now, young fool” – Emperor Claudius Sotomerius
Imperial homeworld—Hosque
Large murals adorned the halls along the corridors leading to and throughout the Throne Room. Marble statues of past emperors stood proud throughout. Large banners belonging to powerful Imperial houses hung from the rafters.
Their ancestors had crafted the palace with brick and mortar. The ancient Hall doors spanning the room from ceiling to the marble floor, still swung on iron hinges. Praetorian palace guards stood on either side and opened the door as he approached.
They saluted him as he passed. He didn’t acknowledge them. They may or may not exist in his new empire. All the emperors from Baridian’s time were buried here. To him this palace was a mausoleum—a relic of the past.
Marcus would tear down this symbolic anchor, which seemed to hold them back from greatness. Emperor Baridian broke away from the United Systems with a vision. Now Marcus’ father, Claudius Sotomerius, affectionately known to his people as Emperor Soto the Visionary, all but reversed every decree Emperor Baridian had made.
Marcus waited until his father acknowledged him. The old withered fool finally raised his head.
“Marcus. What troubles you today? Bored with your girls? Can’t find any poor soul to torment in the streets? Did Quintus upset you again?”
Marcus’ jaw tightened. “No father. I’ve come on a matter of grave importance to the Empire.”
The old fool’s stare was vacant.
“You may speak.” He didn’t even look at Marcus.
Marcus breathed deeply. Are you so ashamed of me, father?
“I have credible intelligence the United Systems is developing a weapon of mass destruction. A weapon intended to shift the balance of power throughout the quadrant.”
The old husk finally laid eyes on him. “Stop, boy. A treaty is being negotiated. And perhaps a formal alliance. What power would the United Systems wish to shift when their only major rival is no longer a looming threat?”
Marcus pushed down his rage. “Father, there are still elements among them that detest our way of life. That wish to assimilate us completely! They know they’ll fail with diplomacy. Once the treaty is signed, and they realize we aren’t keen to adopt their ways, then other persuasions will be of use. Such as the weapon I’ve mentioned.”
The old fool laughed. A wheezing, guttural, sickly sound. “You remind me of someone I still despise even though I am rid of him, boy.”
Marcus winced. He fought to remain tall. The old fool never called him son. An affection he reserved only for Cato.
“Our late Praetor Brutus Bannon.”
Brutus was a mentor to Marcus. A truer father than this sick old man. Marcus would avenge his death.
Marcus opened his mouth to speak. The old fool held up a hand.
“Silence now, young fool. You are a disgrace. A shame to this great family. You will bear the shame of being the first born to a sitting Emperor who for the first time in our history is not chosen to succeed. Young Cato will take my place. Unfortunate that he is still so young and must bear the cloak’s burden. But what is the alternative? You? Were you not my own son I would have had your head removed from your body long ago. I’ve tried to keep you focused. To guide you along a different path. But you allowed others to lead you. Do not continue to wield tales and machinations you know nothing of. Get out of my sight before I forget you’re my blood and have the Praetorians end your miserable existence here and now.”
Marcus’ eyes shimmered. He wouldn’t let his father break him down in front the court. His blood boiled. Every breath was a struggle. It felt like someone was strangling him. He summoned the will to remain standing though he wanted nothing more than for the palace to crumble and bury him with it.
He eyed Cato. Not only half Marcus’ size and stature but—half his ambition. Cato was a fool. A fool like their father. His whole life Marcus had tried to win their father’s affection. The Lord Praetor had been right. His father was weak. And he continued to show his weakness, crawling on hands and feet to the United Systems.
The late Praetor Bannon—may Zeus keep him, was right, but he’d made a mistake. Brutus had tried to convince the Emperor of the will to act. There was only one way forward now. Bannon should have burned this walking corpse when he had the chance.
The task had fallen to Marcus.
Chapter 12-Greater Good
“All for the greater good, Rayne” – Supreme Commander John Shepherd
USSF Headquarters
The Supreme Commander had been trying to contact him for the past several hours. Aaron left his handheld in the ship’s ready room. The SC wouldn’t be able to accuse him of purposefully ignoring a superior officer.
They’d just have to come up with a regulation which demanded you have it with you at all times. His bones ached, his mind felt like a puddle. The work on Phoenix was wearing him down, the sixteen hour days took a toll. He loved digging into his ship’s guts but still it was draining.
Aaron hoped to avoid the Supreme Commander . . . that way Shepherd might forget why he’d summoned him. The thought made him laugh. But the starbase crew who’d found Aaron, had all used various intense adjectives to describe how badly it was Shepherd demanded he report to his office.
There was no doubt the Supreme Commander had another mission of grave significance to the survival of the United Star Systems planned. Did the SC just keep them up his sleeve and pull them when he felt his people got too comfortable?
Shepherd’s new adjutant ushered Aaron into the office, just as he ushered Avery out. Aaron didn’t know h
is former XO had returned. Before he could say anything to Vee, Shepherd gripped him and pulled.
“Rayne, where’ve you been?”
Playing coy was the best course of action. “Been?”
“I sent word for you to meet me.”
“Must not have reached me, yet.” Aaron didn’t fancy himself a good liar.
The Supreme Commander gestured for him to sit on the lounge couch. Aaron sat. Shepherd eyed him with suspicion.
“I’d have commed you, but you have this habit lately of moving around Fleet HQ without it.”
Aaron lapped his foot. “Just enjoying my downtime.”
“And avoiding annoying brass?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
Shepherd snorted. “I’ve heard that before . . . make yourself comfortable.”
Shepherd sat behind his desk and folded his arms. “Endeavor docked an hour ago.”
“Avery seemed in a hurry.”
“Commander Alvarez is on his way to be debriefed by the Intel folks. For now we have enough to brief you.” He paused. “Yes, I have a mission for you,” he said.
Surprise. Aaron stretched his arms along the couch. “Not available, I have a mission for myself.”
The SC’s eyes narrowed. “You hit your head, Rayne?”
Aaron rubbed his head. “Too many times to count.”
Shepherd sighed. “As I was saying. I have a mission for you. You know the Imperials have experimented with subspace weapons.”
Aaron tried to look interested, but the mention of Imperials just sucked the wind out of him. This whole covert operations business was starting to wear. “Yes, modern weapons of mass destruction. Something about ripping the fabric of space and time.”
Shepherd didn’t seem to notice. “Correct. Not a total dunce after all. We’re in a bit of a . . . conundrum. The peace treaty is due to be signed in the coming weeks. Talk of an alliance has come up—although that’s way—way down the line. We can’t be seen engaged in anything underhanded.”
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