“Shut it off. I can’t stomach it.”
“Yes, sir.” A second later, the voices vanished from his ear, and Husher breathed a sigh of relief, relishing the silence. He toggled to a view of the tactical display, then, scrutinizing Teth’s ship for any sign he might be planning to violate the implied understanding that no shots would be fired during the negotiations.
Chapter 38
Belay That Order
Husher was so fixated on Teth’s ship that he almost didn’t notice the asteroid that underwent a slight but appreciable course change, carrying it along a new trajectory that wouldn’t have been possible were it being acted on by the laws of physics alone.
Once he realized something wasn’t right, he willed his Oculenses to rewind the feed from his ship’s forward visual sensors, and he scrutinized the main display during the moment of change. He needed to be sure.
There. The asteroid’s trajectory definitely changed, and not only that, the rock was more than large enough to conceal a ship like the one they’d fought in the Saffron System. This close, the barrage of robots such a ship could loose would be incredibly difficult to fend off, especially combined with Teth’s arsenal, and that of whatever other vessels were concealed within the asteroid belt.
“Captain…” Winterton said, and Husher’s gaze snapped toward the sensor operator.
He was feeling a bit light-headed—like this entire situation felt surreal. It was surreal. They’d come to make nice with the Ixa, for crying out loud, and they were clearly about to be played. The Interstellar Union had signed off on this!
“What is it, Ensign?”
“Have a look at the position of Teth’s warship on the tactical display. It’s inching toward us.”
Husher gripped the armrests of the command seat until his knuckles were white and his forearms vibrated. “Tactical—”
“Captain,” Kaboh said in a warning tone from the Nav station.
Husher spoke over him. “Tactical, calculate a firing solution for eight Hydras targeting Teth’s ship and the area around it. Program them to separate at a kilometer’s remove from each other, and tell me when they’re ready.”
“Yes, sir,” Tremaine said, bending to his work.
Hydras were inspired by missiles fielded by the Ixa during the Second Galactic War, which had exploded mid-flight into hundreds of thousands of speeding kinetic-kill masses, raining down on a target ship’s hull and obliterating it if enough of the masses connected.
Similarly, every Hydra divided into eight smaller missiles, each equipped with a compact nuclear warhead. The Hydras were fitted with sensors and designed to separate the moment they detected an attempt to shoot them down. The eight-Hydra barrage he’d ordered would split into sixty-four warheads.
“Captain Husher,” Kaboh said, “I strongly advise against—”
“I’m responsible for safeguarding this ship, Kaboh,” he said. “That vessel is moving against us.”
“Missiles armed and ready, sir,” Tremaine said.
Husher nodded. “Standby to fire the primary laser, either at Teth’s ship or at whatever comes out from behind that large asteroid—it’ll depend on how effective our Hydras end up being. Fire missiles, Chief Tremaine.”
Kaboh stood up from the Nav station. “Belay that order.”
“Excuse me, Lieutenant Commander?” Husher said.
“I’m officially declaring you unfit for command on the grounds that your erratic behavior indicates you’re mentally unwell.”
Tremaine was looking between Husher and Kaboh, brow lowered, clearly uncertain how to react.
“You don’t have the authority to do that,” Husher said. “Fire the Hydras, Tremaine.”
“Do not fire them, Chief Tremaine,” Kaboh said. “I don’t have the authority to do it, but as chief medical officer, Doctor Bancroft does. And I know she’ll agree with me based on the way you’re behaving. Tremaine, you are not mentally unstable, and for you, firing those missiles will amount to high treason. I strongly recommend you refrain from doing so until Doctor Bancroft has at least had the opportunity to comment on this matter.”
“Teth’s vessel is still approaching,” Winterton said.
“We don’t have time for a medical assessment in the middle of a developing engagement,” Husher said. “Tremaine, fire those missiles. Lieutenant Commander Kaboh, you are relieved from duty.”
With a toss of his head, Kaboh’s gaze swung toward the Coms officer. “Fry, put Mayor Chancey through to the CIC for all to hear.”
“Chancey has no authority in my CIC,” Husher said.
“No, but he’ll likely be able to tell us why Teth is moving closer.”
Slowly, Fry’s hand moved over her console, and with a couple taps, the mayor was patched through.
“Mayor Chancey,” the Kaithian said.
“Kaboh? Yes?”
“Captain Husher is poised to launch eight Hydra missiles at the Ixan Command Leader’s vessel in response to her maneuvering closer. Are you able to explain the vessel’s movement?”
A brief silence, and then Chancey spoke, sounding incredulous. “We were having trouble with the connection, so Command Leader Teth tried shortening the transmission distance. That seemed to work, and his Navigation auxiliary is slowing down now.”
Kaboh’s eyes found Husher’s.
“Mayor,” Husher said, “an asteroid changed its trajectory in a way that shouldn’t have been possible unless an enemy ship was hidden behind it.”
“Thank you, Mayor Chancey,” Kaboh said over Husher. “The captain has been acting irrationally, but you can rest assured that no rash actions will be taken.”
“Right. Good. Thank you, Kaboh.”
“It’s my pleasure. Terminate the call, please, Ensign, and summon Doctor Bancroft to the CIC. Commander Fesky,” the Kaithian said, turning toward the XO’s chair, “it’s not my place to give you orders, but I would recommend preparing to take command of the Vesta.”
“This isn’t about my mental state,” Husher said, glaring at the Nav officer. “This is a political coup of a military vessel.”
“Doctor Bancroft is far from a political operative, Captain. She’s a medical professional of the highest caliber. If she corroborates my assessment, it will be because she recognizes it as the best thing for her ship and everyone aboard.” The Kaithian sat at his console and turned toward it.
Five minutes later, the hatch opened to reveal Bancroft, for whom Kaboh played the video and audio of what had just transpired in the CIC.
Husher sat in the command seat, body rigid. Listening to himself, he did sound a bit manic, if you were looking for signs he was unstable.
I’m not, though. I’m stable. It’s the rest of the galaxy that’s insane.
“I’m truly sorry, Captain,” Bancroft said once she finished reviewing the recording. Her hands were folded over her waist, and she met his eyes with what looked a lot like sympathy. “I do find you unfit for command. It would be best if you return to your quarters for now, until we can find you more appropriate accommodations.”
For a moment, Husher stayed where he was, wholly unable to accept what had just happened.
“Will we need to contact Major Gamble, Captain?” Kaboh asked mildly.
Husher didn’t answer. Instead, he rose from the command seat and walked stiffly from the CIC.
Chapter 39
The Taste of Sweat and Fear
“I’m sure you agree, my terms are quite reasonable,” Teth said from the command seat in the very center of the bridge, while his various auxiliaries sat around him in total stillness. “In exchange for a five-year armistice, to be renewed for a second five-year period at the end of the first, contingent on adherence by both sides…in exchange for that, I want total control of the Baxa System as well as the six nearby systems we’ve already mentioned. I also wish to speak with Jake Price, in person, as soon as possible, with the understanding that no harm will come to him. I’ve already explained where you can expect to find Pric
e. Does that cover everything?”
“That about does it,” Chancey said cheerfully. “And as a representative of the Interstellar Union, I agree to those terms. It’s been a surprising pleasure to negotiate with you, Command Leader. I’ll see to it that the Vesta returns with young Price, and as we’ve already agreed, her battle group will remain here to ensure the IU’s interests are being served.”
“An unnecessary provision, but an understandable one, Mayor,” Teth said. “I will treat them as if they were my own.”
Chancey nodded. “If what you say about Price’s location is true, we should return in a little over a month. Is there anything else you’d care to discuss, Command Leader?”
“That will be all. Safe travels to you, Mayor. And farewell, Ochrim. Rest assured that I will rebuild the Baxa System in a way that does justice to our father’s legacy.”
“Goodbye, Teth,” Ochrim said, and the transmission ended.
The deathly silence stretched on inside Teth’s bridge, as it would for days, if he allowed it to. No one spoke, here—to him or to each other—without his prompting. Nothing happened on the Apex without his express approval. The remaining Ixa were as close to extensions of his own body as he could make them, just as they’d been his father’s appendages right before his death.
Teth’s tongue flicked out, tasting the sweat and fear that always lingered on his bridge. An enhanced olfactory sense was only one of the enhancements with which the Progenitors had bestowed him, but it did make dominance a much more enjoyable experience.
“Coms auxiliary,” Teth said.
“Yes, Command Leader!” the auxiliary said, as though he’d been waiting with the words on his tongue, as he no doubt had.
“Play Kreigan’s Fifth.”
“Yes, Command Leader.”
Within seconds—admirable haste, for such an unusual request—the beautiful, discordant chords clashed together, like ships firing on each other from across a battlespace, punctuated by percussion as sharp as gunfire.
“Command Leader,” the Coms auxiliary said, his voice much softer as he interrupted Teth’s enjoyment of the music.
“Yes?”
“Another transmission request has come in from the Vesta.”
“Accept it, and put it on the main screen.” Teth felt comfortable letting his bridge crew in on any and all intel, since they knew that if they shared it with anyone, he would soon learn of it and kill them. Besides, he’d been expecting this transmission.
It was Mayor Chancey, again, and by now, he’d returned to his office in Cybele.
“Was that to your satisfaction?” Chancey asked.
“Other than the fact it was far too easy, yes, I suppose it was. I do find it somewhat depressing that the human who killed my father reacted to our maneuvers in such a predictable fashion. That rankles a little, I’ll admit.”
“If it’s any consolation, he faces a future of irrelevance and disgrace. Depending on how far the IU wants to carry the fiction that he’s unstable, he may end up in an institution.”
“Well, you already know how much respect I’ve come to gain for the IU. That’s why I intend to take such good care of their ships.”
“I know you will. So long for now, Teth.”
“So long, Mayor. And thank you for your work.”
“Don’t mention it. In fact—thank you, Teth. I mean that.”
“I’m honored,” Teth said, motioning for his Coms auxiliary to cut the transmission.
Chapter 40
Brittle Silence
Captain Arbuck of the Thero drummed his fingers on the armrest as he watched the Vesta dwindle to a speck of light on visual sensors. Then, a flash told him she’d made the jump to warp, and her long journey had officially begun.
Arbuck already felt restless. The idea of sitting around the Concord System with a bunch of Ixa didn’t do much for his already frayed nerves. He was a bit of an anomaly among military ship captains, in that he had absolutely no desire to go to war, and had always hoped to serve out his career without ever seeing combat.
Of course, that was the whole idea of an armistice, and maybe it would hold. Given the Ixa’s track record, he had his doubts about that, but anything was possible, he supposed.
He just wished he could know the outcome now, one way or the other. He’d always hated waiting, and waiting under these particular circumstances promised to be a special kind of hell, if the first few moments were any indication.
Teth hadn’t offered the crews of the Vesta’s battle group ships accommodations, and none had been requested during the negotiations. As standard procedure, each warship was provisioned to go six months without needing to resupply from either their capital starship or a planetary colony.
As for the abundance of downtime they now all faced…Arbuck wasn’t used to that, but he was looking forward to it, in a way. He had a backlog of apps and virtual “experiences” he’d been meaning to check out with his Oculenses, and he certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to do so. In fact, unbeknownst to the rest of the CIC crew, he’d already started watching a vid using the main display, with the sound coming through his embedded ear piece…
“Sir, I’m getting multiple contacts emerging from the asteroid field,” the sensor operator said, and Arbuck jerked upright in the command seat, clearing his throat.
“Hmm? Sorry, could you repeat that, Chief?” He’d heard what she’d said perfectly well, but he wanted to buy some time for his brain to process it.
“Eleven Gok ships just emerged from hiding places behind asteroids.” The chief fell silent for a moment as she scrutinized the main display, then said, “Eight more contacts just appeared. All Gok.”
“Acknowledged, Chief,” Arbuck said, ashamed at the tremor that had crept into his voice. “Coms, send Command Leader Teth a transmission request.”
“Transmitting the request now, sir.”
A brittle silence descended as they waited for the request to be accepted. After several minutes—much longer than it should have taken for the signal to be received and answered—the Coms officer said, “No response, sir.” That much was obvious, but the young officer was clearly as anxious about the new arrivals as his captain.
Arbuck took his Coms officer’s redundant statement as a signal that he needed to do something, and he wholeheartedly agreed. But what? He cleared his throat again. “All right. Coms, contact the other battle group ships with a recommendation that all four IGF ships should begin making their way toward the warp departure point, while standing by to accelerate to warp velocity. I’m not saying we’re actually going to depart the system, but this behavior is highly unusual, and I’d like to take every—”
“The Gok ships have just launched guided missiles targeting all four of our ships, sir!” his sensor operator yelled.
“Calm down,” Arbuck admonished, though he could hear the panic in his own voice. “How many missiles?”
“According to the computer’s count…two hundred and nineteen.”
When Arbuck glanced toward his sensor operator, he saw that the color had drained from her face. Judging from the way he was feeling, he had likely paled as well.
“F-full reverse thrust, helm, and Tactical, ready point defense—”
But his tactical officer’s arms had fallen to her sides, and she was slowly shaking her head.
“They’re already here, sir.”
Arbuck had enough time to realize that he’d left his vid playing on the main display before the bulkhead that held the display caved in, admitting flame and sound to engulf him.
Chapter 41
Evil
Husher took Bancroft’s recommendation that he return to his quarters, but only long enough to put on one of his two plainclothes outfits and stuff the other into a small duffel bag. Grabbing some toiletries, he stuffed those in as well, and then he left, marching through the Vesta’s corridors and ignoring the baffled looks from his former subordinates.
His prayer was that n
o one in Cybele would recognize him, considering he was never without his captain’s uniform. When he opened the hatch into the false desert, he found that so far, at least, his prayers were being answered. There were no protesters sitting in the sand, waiting to harangue him for his oppressive ways.
Now that he’d escaped from the crew section, he realized he had no plan. Escaping had been the plan, the only plan, and now that he’d done it, he had no clue what to do next. So he spent ten minutes walking to the farthest corner of the compartment that contained Cybele and he dropped to the sand, his back landing with a thud against the bulkhead. To his eyes, he appeared to be leaning against thin air, since the simulated snowcapped mountains were still far in the distance, inaccessible. And to anyone who spotted him out here, because of the distance-warping effect at play in this desert of illusion, he would appear as a speck in the middle of a sandy expanse.
What would follow, he didn’t know. He also didn’t know how to react to his situation. He’d fled the Vesta’s crew section because he thought there was a decent chance Bancroft would try to have him committed to a locked section of the sick bay. But was there any hope of escaping the Vesta herself? And where would he escape to? He’d have to make his attempt in a populated star system for it to have any meaning, unless he merely wanted to kill himself, and somehow he still didn’t have that in him, despite his present state of dejection.
Would finding Sera be a worthy goal? Could she ever bring herself to forgive him for what his role in the Gok Wars had brought? Seventeen years had passed without her forgiveness, but what if he went to her? What if he begged?
For the second time this month, he lowered his face into his hands. It occurred to him that now would be a good time to weep, but he didn’t have that in him, either. Too many years of exerting iron self-control, he supposed—of doing exactly what he thought he needed to in order to ready the galaxy for the coming onslaught.
The end will come soon enough. That knowledge could be freeing, if he wanted it to be. Stripped of command, stripped of responsibility…he could actually live, for however long he’d have before the galaxy burned down around him. When was the last time he’d truly lived?
Ixan Legacy Box Set Page 17