by James Palmer
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” she said. “I don’t mean to sound skeptical. It just seems strange, being this last minute.
Leda rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. The Colonel does everything last minute. And he wants me, his personal assistant, to negotiate with the Onslaught’s crew and get them to listen to reason.”
The captain, whose name was Fulbright, nodded. “Well, come on board. It’s cramped, but we’ll make room for you.” She stepped aside so Leda could come aboard. The frigate was indeed cramped, even by Solar Navy standards, and far smaller than the few battle cruisers and troop transports she had been on during her career. But it had a certain weird coziness she found comforting, and it somewhat reminded her of her quarters in the barracks. After appraising the ship’s interior, she followed the captain down the narrow corridor, small gray duffel slung over her right shoulder. If the captain wondered about the long, narrow wooden case she carried in her left hand, she didn’t say anything.
“We can bunk you in here,” said the captain, motioning to an open door on their right. “We’ve just been using it for equipment storage, but I just had that junk dumped off at the quartermaster’s office planetside.”
“Thank you,” said Leda. “This is more than adequate.”
The captain nodded primly before striding off, presumably to get her ship underway.
Leda stepped into the small room, which consisted only of a bunk, rudimentary lavatory, and a computer terminal and tightbeam interface. She placed her duffel and case on the bed, and immediately started to panic.
What if Straker gets the word out about what I’ve done? What if the captain requests confirmation of my credentials from Control? A million such thoughts assailed her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying her mind. She had made it this far. Everything would be fine. Besides, she had the evidence.
She closed and locked the room’s crude hatch, then knelt before the box. She opened the clasps and raised the lid. Her katana shimmered in the light. Leda could smell the mineral oil she had cleaned it with. In the lower left corner, stuffed under the cleaning kit, was the memory drive with data Hamilton had sent her. Here was a visual and sensory record of the Onslaught’s every encounter with the deadly Swarm probes since this nightmare began. She returned it to its compartment and closed the lid, running her slender fingers across the box’s smooth sides.
Hamilton would call her a sentimental fool. Space travel was expensive and dangerous, and officers in the Solar Navy knew that traveling to the stars meant packing light. But she could never leave such a gift behind, especially with Straker’s heavy-handed military police likely ransacking her quarters at this very moment. She wished she had her old ship, the decommissioned warsprite and its onboard AI, Proxima. She could use someone to talk to.
He could ground every ship.
Leda went into panic mode again, then calmed herself. Straker doesn’t have the authority to do that, and this is war. Almost every military vessel on the planet would soon be headed out to join the Fleet near the area of the highest concentration of Draconi ships. He couldn’t stop that. Especially since it was what he wanted.
Leda stood. She hoped she could get off the planet before Straker tracked her down. She hoped she could find the Onslaught in time to stop a war. She hoped they could defeat the Swarm. She hoped she’d get a chance to see Noah Hamilton again, and make amends for the damage she helped cause to his career. She hoped.
She stretched out on the bunk, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
Leda awoke from a troubled sleep to find that something wasn’t quite right.
The frigate she’d lied her way aboard had slowed; she could tell by the subtle vibration of the ship’s drive coming through the wall behind her bunk. She sat up. Had they reached their destination already? Not likely. She checked her wrist chronometer. They hadn’t been gone long enough.
Maybe they were waiting in line to use the Q-gate. With the entire fleet heading for the Artra system, it was possible, but still not likely.
Leda got to her feet, thankful she had slept in her uniform and boots. She started for the door, then decided to check the computer terminal set in the wall opposite her bunk. What she saw there chilled her blood.
General quarters had been sounded, and they had just docked with the Armitage.
“Straker,” said Leda. It had to be. The frigate wasn’t scheduled to meet up with any other ship until reaching Artra. What else could it be?
Leda thought fast. She was trapped. There was nowhere else she could go. She could steal a lifepod, but she’d be helpless. Straker could grab her anyway. Or just blast her lifepod to atoms.
The hatch to her quarters suddenly swung inward. Standing there were two fierce-looking marines in matte black riot polymer. Standing between them was Colonel Straker.
“Lt. Niles,” he said with a sneer. “I’m so glad we found you. Come with us, please.”
The marines entered the room, brandishing stun sticks.
Captain Phillips stepped up behind Straker. “Once again, I must apologize for all this. She had all the proper paperwork. And I must say, she doesn’t look like a terrorist.”
“They never do, Captain,” said the Colonel. “Special Ops appreciates your cooperation. If you’ll stand aside, we’ll have this problem off your ship in a few moments.”
“He’s conspiring against the Solar Navy and the League of Worlds,” Leda heard herself say. “I have proof!”
Oops. The moment the words came out of her mouth she regretted them.
Straker raised an eyebrow. “Yes. We know. You were trying to sneak way with classified documents of great importance to the war effort. Where are they?”
Leda scowled. Straker was shrewd. He wouldn’t have known about the data if she hadn’t said anything. The man could certainly think on his feet, but so could she.
“It’s over there,” she said, pointing. “In that case.”
Straker went to the wooden box that contained her katana. He opened it, smiling at the gleaming weapon inside. “How sentimental. The gift from your father. It is a beautiful weapon, elegant. But not what I came to see. Where is it? Oh, yes.”
Straker opened the tiny compartment that held the sword’s cleaning kit and fished around. Underneath was the drive on which she had stored the data that Hamilton had sent her.
“Put it in,” said Leda, motioning toward the computer terminal. “Let’s see what’s on it. I’m sure Captain Phillips would find it very interesting.”
It was Straker’s turned to scowl. He turned to Captain Phillips. “The Lieutenant here is completely delusional. She is a member of the so-called chaos cult the League purged a number of years ago. We thought we got them all, but apparently we were wrong.”
Phillips nodded, backing out of the doorway. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” she said. She continued to hang around, and Leda thought she could still get to her.
“You’re the traitor here, Colonel,” said Leda, backing into a corner. “When word gets out, you’re finished.”
“Take her,” ordered Straker.
The marine to Leda’s left made the first move, but she was ready. He brought the stun stick down fast and hard toward her right shoulder, but she grabbed his wrist, squeezing the nerves that made him loosen his grip on the weapon. Then she kicked him solidly in the left knee. There was a loud crack as he cried out in pain, crumpling to the deck as he dropped the stick.
Leda tried to catch it, but it tumbled out of her grip. The other marine was on her then, and he was even bigger than the first. He jammed the end of the stun stick into Leda’s side, sending a wave of pain and nausea through her. She felt dizzy and wobbled on her feet. She tried to grab at him to steady herself, but he pushed her way. She went to her knees and vomited. She felt pain lance through her once more as the marine connected the stun stick with the base of her skull. Then she knew only darkness.
27 The Fleet
As they le
ft the ready room, Lt. Brackett said, “Tightbeam back online.”
“That’s great news,” said Kuttner.
“That transponder did the trick,” said Brackett. “I’ve patched it in to our system, bypassing the damaged circuits. I don’t know how long it’ll hold, but for now we’ve got ears. And a voice.”
“Excellent work, Lieutenant,” said Hamilton. “Let’s tune into the Fleet’s common channel, see if we can figure out what’s going on out there.”
“Already on it, Commander. The Fleet is amassing in the Artra system. They believe a Draconi strike force is headed there.”
“That was a highly contested system during the last weeks of the war,” said Hamilton. “It makes sense.”
“Hudson,” said Kuttner. “Head for the Q-gate. We’re going to the Artra system.”
The ship moved quickly, and Kuttner was thankful that the engines still worked. The Onslaught was still a mess, but she’d get them where they needed to go. She always had.
“Nearing the Q-gate now,” said Hudson.
“Sending codes,” said Brackett.
The Q-gate’s opening shimmered, showing a grouping of stars that did not line up with the section of space they currently occupied.
“Take her through,” said Kuttner. “Gently.”
The Onslaught passed easily through the gate, as it had done a thousand times. In under a minute they were clear.
“Pulsar nav confirmed,” said Hudson after a full minute. “This is the Artra system.”
The Artra system consisted of a medium-size G-type star and eight planets, one of which was capable of supporting both human and Draconi life, yet had none of its own. There was also a wide asteroid belt full of nickel-iron, gold and platinum, and several sources of other vital elements such as deuterium and helium 3. It was a veritable treasure trove that the League of Worlds needed to hang onto at any cost.
“I’m picking up multiple ships,” said Hudson. “All Navy. Frigates, battle cruisers.”
“Comm traffic is heavy,” said Brackett, pressing buttons on her workstation.
“Have they noticed us yet?” asked Kuttner.
“Unknown,” said Brackett. We might not be close enough. The main group is clustered in orbit around the second planet, the inhabited one.”
“Mara,” said Hamilton, pulling the little world’s name from memory.
Kuttner turned to him.
“I’ve been there once,” he explained. “It’s nice.”
“Sir,” said Lt. Brackett. “I’m getting a news feed that’s been playing on repeat over the Q-net. I think you should see it.”
Kuttner scowled. “On screen.”
The viewer shimmered and was replaced by a square-jawed man with platinum-colored hair and eerie purple designer eyes. “—word is the fleet is grouping in the Artra system. I repeat. We are currently in a state of war. All of the fringe worlds are on high alert today after a missive went out over the tightbeam network stating that the recent colony world attacks were caused by some new form of Draconi weapon. All requests for a statement from Draconi high command have been unanswered.”
“Kill that feed,” said Kuttner. “I’ve heard enough.”
“Looks like the conspiracy’s propaganda machine has been busy,” said Hamilton. “Straker has stirred everyone into a frenzy.”
“But it isn’t true,” said Drizda. “Any of it. We have proof.”
“We’ve got to let them know that,” said Kuttner, pointing to the viewer, which at the moment showed empty space.
“Draconi war fleet approaching,” said Hudson. “Mostly Fang and Raptor class. Their weapons are primed and ready.”
“Status report,” said Kuttner. “What have we got?”
“A ship full of holes,” said Hamilton. “No defense field, minimal armament, a nuked rail gun, and a tightbeam network that could short out at the slightest nudge.”
“Gunner,” said Kuttner, ignoring him. “What offensive capabilities can you give me?”
“Just the particle cannons,” said Cade.
All right,” muttered Kuttner. “That’ll have to be enough.”
“What’s the plan, Captain?” asked Hamilton.
“We’re going to try one more time to stop this madness before it starts. Maybe we can call this war off and go home after all.
“And if we can’t?” asked Hamilton.
“Then we’ll go down shooting with our battle brothers. We’ll make our stand with the Fleet.”
Kuttner tugged at his uniform front and sat in the command chair.
Drizda, be ready to transmit everything we’ve got on the Swarm and what has happened up to now.”
“Yes, Captain,” said the alien.
“Brackett,” ordered Kuttner. “Find the lead ship. I want a word with her captain.”
“Yes, sir,” said Brackett.
“Hudson,” get us at close as you can to the fleet. We’re getting into the thick of this.”
“Sir,” said Hamilton. “Where do you think the Swarm is in all this?”
“If they’re the key to some vast plan of Straker’s, they’re probably headed right this way,” said Kuttner. “But this time, we’ll be ready for them.”
Hamilton stared at the viewer as it slowly filled with ships, bulky transports and sleek frigates. Vast battle cruisers and stealthy fighters, gray against the deep black of space. He wondered what could be done to stop all this. They had tried so many times. But most of all he worried about Leda. She would have contacted him by now if she had been able. Was she a part of the conspiracy with Straker, or was she in danger?
28 War
The crew of the Onslaught was aware of the Dragon armada’s presence long before they could see them. The ship’s sensors could see the blots of infrared light they gave off, the Hawking radiation of their space drives. It picked up their alien comm chatter.
The rest of the Fleet too was bristling at their oncoming presence, raising defense fields, priming weapons.
Captain Kuttner paced the command deck, his hands clasped behind his back. Decades of war had prepared him for what was coming, but he didn’t relish it. He had hoped, in fact, to stop it before it started. But he couldn’t give up.
“Lt. Brackett,” he said, “Get me the ship in charge.”
“It appears to be the Armitage,” said the communications officer. “I’m raising them now.”
There was an answering chime that told Kuttner a channel was open.
“Armitage,” he said. “This is Captain Kuttner of the Onslaught. We have information vital to this campaign. We can’t go to war with the Draconi. Our real enemy is—”
There was a loud mechanical bleat, followed by silence.
“What happened”
“I don’t know, sir. “Something overrode our signal and killed it from this end.”
“It’s the transponder we jerry-rigged to the comm system,” said Hamilton. “That’s Straker over there. He has our device’s quantum entangled twin.”
“Sir,” said Brackett, “The Armitage is hailing us.”
“On viewer.”
The sneering visage of Colonel Straker appeared. Standing close next to him was a nervous-looking Leda Niles. She was pale, and looked as if she would rather be anywhere but where she was.
“Hello, Colonel,” said Hamilton.
“What the hell are you playing at?” said Kuttner. “You’re intentionally trying to start a war here.”
“A necessary war,” said the Colonel. “The Draconi empire must be extinguished.”
“My people will not fall so easily,” said Drizda. “Our two species are too evenly matched, and my people’s fervor—”
“Will get them nowhere,” Straker cut in, glancing at her. He looked disappointed at finding her on the command deck of the Onslaught. “There is a new weapon on the horizon.”
Hamilton glared at him. “The Swarm.”
“Exactly.”
“But it has been attacking both of us.
How are you going to turn it against the Draconi?”
“You want to field that question, Lieutenant?” Straker asked, raising a gun and pointing it at the back of Leda’s head.
“They captured an older Swarm probe,” she said nervously. “It doesn’t work, but the Colonel figured out how to use it to communicate with them, turn them into a weapon that only strikes Draconi holdings in this quadrant.”
“The tide will be turned,” said Straker. “The war we should have won will be over, with us the rightful victors. But it isn’t just Draconi bases in this quadrant I’m interested in. I will strike at the heart of the lizards’ vast empire.”
“The homeworld!” said Drizda. “But you don’t know where it is.”
“I’ve made a few educated guesses. My new friends will do the rest. Speaking of which, it’s time to call them.”
With his gun hand, Straker tapped on a slate, and Hamilton heard the familiar, tones, like an eerie piping over a wide range.
“He’s sending out a wide range tightbeam,” said Brackett.
“Record it,” said Kuttner. “I want Drizda to figure out what he’s saying to them.”
“You’re too late to do anything about this,” said Straker. “This war is going to happen. You can fight it with the fleet or die like traitors. The choice is yours.”
“I will gladly fight a war if that is our only option,” said Kuttner. “But not a war started under false pretenses.”
Straker shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
The viewer went dark, the transmission killed at the source.
“Sir,” said Hudson. “The Draconi fleet has entered the system.”
Kuttner took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.
“Your orders, sir?” asked Hamilton.
Kuttner stared at him for a long moment before responding. “All hands, battle stations.”
29 Enemies and Allies