“No one does,” she agreed. “And that’s part of why the High Priestess is hesitating. Even the mass release of slaves required as our precondition to talks sets a precedent that risks her power base and the structure of her government.”
Annette grinned coldly.
“That, of course, is part of why we made it a condition. The other part is to get our people home. Right now, for the first time, we have the leverage to make it a possibility, so A!Shall is going to hammer it home.
“Make no mistake: the temporary agreement we have in place thanks to Fleet Master Cawl is enough that Seventy-Seventh Fleet will assist in fighting off the Taljzi. We’ll use our leverage to force change in the Kanzi and to rescue our people, but we’re not going to knowingly watch worlds burn.”
“I didn’t think we were,” Zhao said. “Should I be planning for us to absorb a large portion of these slaves?”
“Prepare for some,” Annette instructed. “Most likely the bulk will go from their core systems to our core systems. I’m not even the logical person to send to meet with the High Priestess. I’m not sure why A!Shall is sending me.”
“Because she trusts you,” an oddly modulated, clearly translated voice interjected into the conversation. Annette looked up sharply to see who had bypassed all of the security around the main conference room of the Ducal Council, then relaxed when she saw the familiar big A!Tol standing there.
Ki!Tana was an oddity of her race, an A!Tol female that had survived the “breeding madness” that drove most of her kin to suicide at the end of their lives. Given the immense healing capability of females of the species, an A!Tol who survived their bodies’ demand to breed could live nearly forever.
Breeding, sadly, was an inherently fatal process for the A!Tol. They were leaders in artificial reproductive technology in the galaxy for the simple reason that they didn’t have wombs. Their young literally ate their mothers from the inside out.
The Ki!Tol, the ones who survived the madness, were regarded as a mix between trickster demons and wise advisors. Ki!Tana had been a pirate when she’d fallen into Annette’s orbit, and had been instrumental in the success of the Duchy of Terra.
She’d moved on over a decade ago, and Annette had never expected to see her again.
“Now I know it’s a crisis,” Annette declared as she smiled at the big alien. “You never do show up unless everything is going to hell.”
“I’d have been here sooner, but I was busy,” Ki!Tana replied, a flush of red pleasure suffusing her skin at the sight of the humans. “The Mesharom updated me. These are murky waters you have swum into, Duchess Bond.”
“The entire Imperium is trapped in them,” Annette said. “If you’ve any advice or help to give, I’ll gladly take it.”
“And I’ll gladly give it,” Ki!Tana told her. “This seems to be the consequences of my own actions coming home to roost, after all.”
Annette glanced at Wellesley and Zhao. She’d never told them what Ki!Tana had once told her about herself. The red in the A!Tol’s skin flushed deeper as she clearly realized that.
“You honor my trust beyond reason, Annette Bond,” she said. “Councilor Zhao, General Wellesley.”
“If you do not wish to explain that, I can forget I ever heard it,” Zhao said dryly.
Ki!Tana’s beak snapped in harsh A!Tol laughter.
“No, I know you two of old and trust your winds,” she replied. “Before I was Ki!Tana. Before I was Ki!Tol at all…I was Empress A!Ana. I remember little of that life—but believe me, my friends, I remember firing a star killer.”
The A!Tol Imperium held the questionable honor of being one of a bare handful of nations to fire the galactic weapons of mass destruction known as star killers. The weapons did exactly what the name implied, so few of the galactic-level powers had ever actually used one.
“It was done to destroy a Precursor facility the Taljzi were studying,” she continued. “The Mesharom provided us the technology, to make sure that whatever Precursor tech they’d acquired was destroyed.
“It seems we failed—or at the very least, they extracted a map of other Precursor facilities. Which means we now face the consequences of the harsh duty the Mesharom imposed on me.”
“They’re coming,” Annette replied. “A detachment of the Core Fleet has already been dispatched, but…they’re months away.”
“Darkest waters,” Ki!Tana swore. “They’re sending Core Fleet ships?”
“They didn’t tell you?” Annette asked.
“They interrupted a fascinating archeological investigation on a world you’ve never heard of and told me to get my tentacles to Sol,” the Ki!Tol explained. “They told me enough to get me moving; they didn’t tell me they were sending war spheres.”
“War spheres,” Wellesley echoed. “Do I dare ask?”
“I’ve never seen one,” Ki!Tana replied. “What little I have heard suggests a warship that no other power in the galaxy could match one on one—or even three on one. Something to put even Laian war-dreadnoughts or Wendira star hives to shame.”
Annette winced.
She’d seen both of those ships, each of which massed around a hundred million tons and could fight most Arm Power fleets to a standstill on their own.
“They could be gods forged in steel and fire, and they still won’t be here for almost six months,” she said harshly. “We need to act today. We need to concentrate every ship we can in Sol and upgrade their systems. We need a fleet of hyperspace missile–armed warships that can meet these bastards in battle at ten-to-one odds and win.”
“Tell me everything,” Ki!Tana instructed. “It seems I wasn’t as up to date as I hoped.”
Chapter Forty-One
The gray void swam around Bellerophon and Morgan found herself counting ships as if a new run through the numbers would increase them.
Three battleships, all Bellerophon-class. Sixteen Thunderstorm-D–class cruisers.
That was every ship they had with S-HSM launchers. One hundred and sixty-eight launchers. That many regular missiles wouldn’t even make most capital ships blink, but the hyperspace missiles had some terrifying advantages that might make up the difference.
Fifty-six Thunderstorm-Bs and -Cs, plus sixteen Abrasion-class cruisers. Powerful, capable units. All of them had plasma lances and hyperfold communicators, but only the Thunderstorm-Cs had hyperfold cannons.
All of them were currently carrying two dual-portal hyperspace missiles strapped to the outer hulls, and the sixty-four destroyers that made up the rest of the task force were carrying one apiece.
They had just over two hundred of the D-HSMs mounted externally, and the Bellerophons carried another thirty-six in their one-shot cell launchers. Their opening salvo would be their strongest, their Sunday punch.
It would also be the only clean shot they got. After they’d landed one hit with FTL missiles, the Taljzi would adapt.
And even that plan was assuming they beat the genocidal bastards to Asimov. There was no way the eight Thunderstorms and sixteen destroyers guarding the system could hold the fleet that had taken Alstroda for even ten minutes.
Maybe if they’d left Thunderstorm-Ds behind they’d have had a better chance, but Rear Admiral Sun had sent all of his most modern warships to Xīn Táiwān. Morgan agreed with the decision, but it still left the planet swinging in the breeze.
Asimov was decently fortified, but those defenses were equipped with proton beams and point eight cee missiles. They weren’t worthless, even against this enemy, but they couldn’t hold a fleet of super-battleships off for long.
She counted the ships and the hyperspace missiles again, seeking some solution that had evaded her. The map gave the mockery to any calculation around ships and weapons, though. Morgan Casimir wasn’t a navigator, but she’d trained to be able to do every job on a starship’s bridge to at least a basic degree.
She could do the math on the travel times and probabilities. There was only one chance in three they’d be
at the Taljzi to Asimov. Two chances in three that everything they were doing was for naught and all TF 77–1 would be able to do was mourn the dead—because Morgan knew that Vice Admiral Rolfson wouldn’t be able to justify committing the Task Force to a suicide charge to avenge the system they’d willingly die to protect.
When the notification system on her shipboard messenger program popped up a notification, she latched on to the distraction like a drowning woman grabbing a piece of floating debris.
The message was from Coraniss.
Come to my pod. Now. It’s important.
Chief Eliza intercepted Morgan at the edge of the bay they’d tucked the Mesharom escape pod into. The dark-haired, stocky noncom towered over Morgan, but her tight bun was starting to fray and she looked like she was about to start chewing on deck plates.
“I haven’t managed to so much as sit down in fourteen hours, and now your friend in there has robots all over my deck!” she snapped. “I didn’t think there was enough space in that damn pod for all those metal worms. Can you find out just what the hell it thinks it’s doing?”
“They are not an it, Chief,” Morgan said bluntly. “But yes, I’m here to talk to Coraniss. What do you mean by ‘robots all over the deck’?”
“Take a look,” Eliza replied with an expansive gesture.
Morgan stepped past her into the boat bay and swallowed.
It was one thing to know that a Mesharom space vessel was a swarm of microbots attached to a frame. It was quite another thing to see the vessel reduced to not much more than the frame and the microbots spread out all over a sixty-meter-wide-boat bay. The segmented robotic worms that served as extra hands aboard Mesharom ships seemed to be everywhere, organizing microbots and moving cabling.
Some of the cabling was from Coraniss’s ship. Much of it, though, was definitely from Bellerophon. Morgan was reasonably sure that most of the cabling was supposed to be movable, intended for interfacing with shuttles and such. Several open panels along the boat bay wall suggested that at least some of it wasn’t.
“We weren’t using this boat bay, anyway,” she pointed out to Chief Eliza in a voice that sounded far calmer than she felt. “Not with the pod here. We’d already have to move craft to the other bays for deployment before this.”
“So, what, we just let the Mesharom eat an entire boat bay?” the noncom demanded.
“Exactly, Chief,” Morgan replied, her voice hardening into command tones. “Coraniss is an ally, and if properly treated and taken care of, a potentially extraordinarily valuable one. If they want to turn our boat bay into an extension of their ship, I’m going to trust that they have a reason.
“So, yes, we’ll mark the boat bay as off limits for now, and I’ll go ask Coraniss what’s going on. Is that understood, Chief Eliza?”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”
Morgan knew those tones from an NCO as well as she knew command tones from a senior officer. She shook her head.
“I’ll go see what Coraniss wants,” she repeated. “Keep an eye on things for me, Chief.”
Despite the swarming microbots and robots, there was still a clear pathway to the entrance to the pod. Morgan walked along it carefully but quickly realized the robots were leaving the path for her.
The pod airlock slid open as she approached, and she realized that the entire interior of the craft had been made out of microbots. The space she stepped into was at least twice the size of the room she’d met Coraniss in before, and there clearly was still a small bedroom tucked away against the side of the ship.
Otherwise, though, the entire interior of the ship was now open. Cabling and ducts and technology that the Mesharom normally concealed behind the stark white cover of their intelligent and moving walls and floors were fully visible.
Buried in the middle of the visible tech was Coraniss, their body extended to its full height as they dug deep into a strange technological artifact quite unlike anything Morgan had seen before.
A moment’s study, however, showed at least part of the answer: the large cylinders on either side of the device Coraniss was working on were the emitters of a hyperdrive. Morgan could feel the odd pushing sensation of being close to charged exotic matter.
“You had a hyperdrive,” she said in surprise. “I thought you had to wait for us to rescue you.”
“No,” Coraniss confirmed. “Was ordered to wait for you. Now…may be able to make a difference at last.”
“I don’t understand,” Morgan admitted.
The Mesharom reared back and gestured towards the device with several limbs.
“This is a hyperspace density modulator,” they explained. “It creates what you call a hyperspace current. Without systems the pod does not carry, it can only create a current toward the galactic core, the central gravity source of our galaxy.”
Morgan stared at the machine in awe. She’d always wondered how the Mesharom could get around faster than anyone else. She’d known hyperspace grew denser as you approached the Core, which was why the Core Powers could interfere in Arm Power affairs more easily than the other way around, but she didn’t know that density could be manipulated.
On the other hand, a path toward the Core didn’t help them right now.
“So, what are you doing?” she asked carefully.
“If I can link into Bellerophon’s hyper-portal emitters, I believe I can use them to replicate the functionality I do not have. I need you to tell your engineers to assist me instead of slowing my efforts by attempting to block my access to your computer systems.”
Morgan managed not to visibly react to that admission.
“You’re hacking our systems,” she checked.
“I need full access,” Coraniss said reasonably. “I need to adjust your hyper emitters.”
“Will we still be able to open a hyper portal if you do that?” Morgan asked.
“No, but you have one hundred and fifty-four other vessels capable of doing so,” the alien replied. “If your engineers will assist rather than hinder, I believe I can have the modulator online and fully functional within six hours.”
Morgan swallowed.
“How…fast a current?”
“It’s weaker out here than it would be closer to the core, and directing it away from the core weakens it again,” Coraniss admitted. “Perhaps a…sixty-three percent increase in pseudo-velocity.”
That would carve days off the trip. It would guarantee TF 77–1 arrived in Asimov before the Taljzi.
“Why didn’t you tell us before we left?” Morgan asked. “We could have moved the whole fleet!”
“Won’t be able to create a large-enough effect for the entire fleet. Should be able to move entire Task Force.” Coraniss paused. “May have to leave behind some smaller ships,” they confessed. “Definitely battleships, almost certainly all cruisers.”
That…was a trade Morgan was sure they’d take, but it wasn’t her call.
“Are you allowed to share this technology?” she asked. This was something even the other Core Powers didn’t have, and she knew the Imperium had demonstrated the ability and will to duplicate Mesharom technology from scans before.
“Asked permission. Was not refused before we left Xīn Táiwān.”
For the first time since coming aboard, Coraniss lowered themself and looked Morgan directly in the eyes. The Mesharom had large, multi-faceted eyes in a dark sapphire blue.
“No one denied me and I saw my fellows die,” Coraniss said flatly. “We Mesharom are slow of thought, cautious of temperament, and hesitant to action…but we understand revenge.”
Those jewel-like eyes closed for several seconds, then reopened.
“Talk to your engineers, my friend. I will deliver your fleet in time to save your people.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“You want us to do what?”
Harold was quite sure he’d heard Casimir’s request perfectly clearly, but he was still surprised. He’d figured there had to be something going on when
the young officer had requested a meeting with her entire chain of command.
Commander Masters sat next to his subordinate on one side of the table in the flag conference room, and Captain Vong sat next to Harold. The Admiral didn’t even need to look at his new flag captain to know that Vong was horrified by the concept…and was considering it anyway.
“Coraniss believes they have the ability to interface their hyperspace density modulator with Bellerophon’s exotic-matter emitters and create a current that should be large enough to move most of the task force to Asimov at an increased pseudo-velocity,” Morgan Casimir repeated.
“To do so, they need full access to our computer and engineering systems, which our cyberwarfare and engineering teams are currently fighting them over,” she continued.
“This ship is the culmination of everything the Gold Dragon Protocols were about,” Vong noted. “The entire purpose of those Protocols was to conceal the existence of much of this ship’s technology from the Mesharom.
“If we give Coraniss full access to our systems, they will learn things that they cannot learn any other way. It is not, for example, obvious that we are using a microbot matrix to support our compressed-matter plates. That is a technology we have not admitted we have. There are others as well, Lieutenant Commander.
“Are we prepared to completely abandon that attempt at secrecy? There is Precursor tech embedded in this ship’s systems—something the Mesharom do not permit.”
“Technically, there isn’t,” Harold pointed out. “There is technology based on Precursor systems in Bellerophon’s construction, but for reasons I’m not cleared to explain—or indeed, to fully understand—DragonWorks was strictly forbidden from attempting direct duplication of any of the Precursor technology we have scans and samples of.
“It’s a flimsy shield against fifty millennia of Mesharom tradition and law, but it’s the truth as well.”
“And frankly, sirs, I don’t think it should matter,” Commander Masters interjected. Bellerophon’s tactical officer gave his subordinate a look that Harold hoped was supportive. There were some undercurrents there, and Harold didn’t think Casimir had expected the tactical officer to back her.
Darkness Beyond (Light of Terra: a Duchy of Terra series Book 1) Page 24