Chapter Nine
Fleet Admiral Stone paced the bridge of the ULS Defiant, the second of the ULAF’s fury class carriers. The air was cold enough to remind him of childhood days and steaming breath, but the scents on the warship were of machined alloy and electricity rather than the pure air of his hometown.
He paused and glanced around at the bridge crew. Each was a veteran of many engagements and Stone detected hardly a hint of anxiety, let alone anything resembling fear. Voices were spoken evenly and without competition – information transfer performed with absolute efficiency. Stone clenched his fists and then extended his fingers. If the alliance was to pull this one off, they’d require skill, luck and balls of steel.
“Fifteen minutes to rendezvous,” said Lieutenant Macie Stowe from the propulsion section.
A digital timer said the same figure in two-foot numbers on one of the bulkhead screens. The moment approached.
“If anyone has concerns, this is your last opportunity to raise them,” said Stone loudly.
Only two days ago, raising his voice would have produced a wincing pain in his chest. Not now. In fact, Stone’s aches and pains had receded so much that he felt better than he did before his incarceration in the shithole prison on Qali-5. In his head, he didn’t require constant medical supervision anymore. His team of doctors thought otherwise and a full complement of them had followed him onto the Defiant. Stone didn’t like to be uncharitable, but their presence was becoming an irritation.
Dr Austin’s presence, however, was not an irritation. Stone gritted his teeth and ignored the clenching in his stomach. Twenty-two years wasn’t much of a difference. Not when a human could reasonably expect to live to 130, assuming they didn’t perish in an alien incendiary attack.
Stone got a hold of himself. He resumed his circuits of the bridge, stopping occasionally to speak to the crew or to check the data on their consoles. Stone had spent years as a warship captain and the knowledge hadn’t left him, which was a positive, since the Raggers refused to deal with anyone else. No doubt the alien bastards hoped to use this to their advantage – such as by murdering him if the chance came – but Stone had no intention of being treated like a fool.
The 275 Hantisar spaceships accompanying the Defiant - along with a couple of dozen of the ULAF’s usual fleet - seemed like a potent enough deterrent to keep the Raggers from trying any funny business.
“Five minutes!” called Stowe.
“Everyone to stations!” said Stone in a commanding voice. This was nothing more than a procedural call - the crew were already seated and any who weren’t would have found themselves with Stone’s boot planted on their ass.
“Commander Blackwood?” asked Stone.
Lettie Blackwood was one of the ULAF’s most experienced officers and usually ranked as captain. For this mission, she was second in command. She rose from her seat adjacent to the main command station. “Green lights on everything, sir.”
Stone nodded in acknowledgement and walked closer. “All set to meet our friends.”
“Friends holding knives behind their backs.”
“This time we won’t be fooled.”
Blackwood knew all about the Raggers and what was planned for the mission. She scrunched up her face. “Two parties, each trying to rob the other.”
“You think it won’t end well?”
This time she grinned. “Only for the Raggers, sir. It would be a shame if we didn’t get their technical data before we kick the crap out of their fleet.”
Stone grinned back. “As long as the Fangrin keep their heads down, there’s no reason to think the Raggers will realize what’s happening.”
“Maybe we should have just left the dogs at home, sir.”
“They refused to be excluded and I can’t say I blame them, especially since we’ve borrowed part of their share of the Hantisar fleet for this. All communication will come from the Defiant, so the enemy will never know the Fangrin are here with us.”
From Blackwood’s face, it was clear she wasn’t 100% persuaded about the necessity to have the dogs along for the ride. Stone couldn’t do much about it – the Fangrin were understandably feeling sidelined following the ULAF’s recent successes and Governor Terax was insistent that his species were involved in this. The Fangrin had far more history with the Raggers than the Unity League did, and the hatred ran deep.
“We’ll deal with it,” said Blackwood.
“That we will, Commander.”
“The tharniol drive will switch over in ten seconds!” called Stowe.
Out of habit, Stone took hold of the nearest fastened-down object, which happened to be his leather-bound seat, and narrowed his eyes in reflex preparation for his body’s imminent suffering.
The Defiant shuddered and some of the equipment buzzed. Stone experienced a passing sensation of sickness and a general discomfort. They faded quickly.
“Status reports!” he ordered.
The crew were on it.
“Near scan underway.”
“Fars commencing.”
“Hardware audit finished. One amber on engine monitoring processor six.”
“Get a maintenance team down there.”
“Already done, sir.”
“I’m counting 237 Hantisar warships in our locality, sir, plus ten ULAF. Battle network populating.”
“Confirm when the last ship joins.”
“Yes, sir.”
Within two minutes of arrival, Stone was reassured that everything was so far going to plan. The rendezvous with the Raggers was in a solar system called Indul-L9, a place the Unity League had visited once, briefly surveyed and then never returned. With good reason – there was little of interest on any of Indul-L9’s six planets other than minerals that could be extracted from a thousand closer worlds.
“Planet five is called Indul-975D,” said Lieutenant Eli Roden from the sensor team. “We’re a few billion klicks from that one, while planet six is somewhere way out on its orbital track.”
“We aren’t here for sightseeing, Lieutenant.” Not that Stone expected anything in Indul-L9 to be worth more than a passing glance.
“The final ship joined the battle network, sir.”
“Good. Anything on the far scans?”
“Everything is clean, sir.”
With so many warships scanning this area of space, Stone was confident that nothing was hiding. The Hantisar sensor tech could see right through the Ragger stealth and the Defiant was fitted with two arrays lifted directly from one of the alien craft. The tie-ins weren’t perfect and the testing wasn’t even started. Stone hoped to give the new sensors a trial run today.
“Set a course for the rendezvous,” he said. “High speed and then a slow approach.”
“Yes, sir. High in then slow.”
Stone didn’t feel like sitting and he turned so that he could see the entirety of the bridge. A few moments after he gave the command, he felt the Defiant accelerate. It was a fast ship, utilizing the same propulsion advancements as found in the now-destroyed ULS Hurricane, as well as several other warships in the ULAF fleet. Despite its speed, the Defiant couldn’t match the Hantisar spaceships with their vantrium drives, and Stone was aware the commanders of those vessels would be holding back in order that the carrier and the other ULAF warships could keep pace.
“One day,” said Blackwood, with a touch of longing.
“One day soon, Commander.”
“Fifteen minutes to the rendezvous point, Admiral.”
Stone watched and he waited. The sensor teams didn’t let up in their hunt for the Raggers and so far they’d turned up blanks.
“Maybe this time they’re above board,” said Blackwood, not sound like she believed it for a second.
“They aren’t,” said Stone. “However, I expect they’ll be precisely at the arranged meeting point.”
“Because they want us to think they’re on the level.”
“Exactly. The treachery will come later. If they belie
ve they can get away with it.”
“Which they will, sir.”
“Only a fool would think otherwise, Commander.”
Not long after the fleet began its synchronized deceleration, the first sighting of a Ragger warship came onto the battle network.
“Enemy ship a million klicks to starboard, sir,” reported Lieutenant Wilton Dowd. “A single light cruiser with its stealth modules offline.” He spoke again before Stone could respond. “And a second light cruiser ten thousand klicks from that one. Both travelling at low speed towards the rendezvous.”
“Showing us they’re here,” said Stone. “And making out like they’re friendly.”
“Recommend we deploy Vipers, sir,” said Blackwood.
“Hold for now, Commander. We’re trying to look friendly too and we’ve got plenty of Hantisar warships around us.”
A minute later, the fleet sensor teams began detecting Ragger spaceships at the rendezvous point. With no agreement on how many vessels each party could bring – a situation which suited Stone well enough – he wasn’t sure what to expect. The Raggers generally didn’t arrive anywhere under-strength and he was curious to learn exactly what sort of commitment they’d make here in Indul-L9.
The answer was: a big commitment. When the final tally came in, Stone briefly wondered if he’d miscalculated. He reminded himself exactly how potent the Hantisar warships were and dismissed his worries.
“Six hundred and fifty-four enemy ships, sir,” said Lieutenant Dowd. “Two capital ships, the rest a mixture of heavies, lights and a handful of smaller ones which might be support. About half of the total are running active stealth.”
“Check with the Fangrin to find out if those supports are more than they seem,” Stone replied, not about to leave it to chance.
“Yes, sir.”
Stone swept his gaze across the multitude of sensor feeds. The Ragger capital ships were as threatening as he’d imagined from his time spent studying the file recordings of Prime011 and Prime013 – huge disks, studded with turrets, launchers, chain guns and all manner of other crap designed to reduce another spaceship to scrap metal. For once, they might not find themselves in command of the arena, since the Hantisar battleships outmatched them one-on-one and Stone had eight such battleships in his fleet.
Following Stone’s command, the allied fleet came to a standstill, with only fifty thousand klicks separating the closest warships on the opposing sides. The Raggers made no attempt at contact and Stone didn’t either. Ten uneasy minutes went by, during which he and his commanding officers studied the enemy. Aside from the capital ships, one Ragger vessel stood out from the others.
“What’s that one?” asked Stone, highlighting an area on the sensor feed.
“I asked Admiral Isental. He doesn’t know, sir,” said Lieutenant Dowd.
“What about the other Fangrin? Have they seen anything like it before?”
“Negatives so far. I’ll let you know if anything new comes in.”
The ship which had Stone’s attention was a cylinder about four hundred meters in length and with a diameter of two hundred. Its outer surface was plated, but it was otherwise unadorned. This strange vessel was in amongst the others, with active stealth and at the approximate center of the Ragger fleet.
“Doesn’t look like much,” said Blackwood. “But they’ve brought it here for a reason.”
“I don’t like it.” Stone raised his voice so that the sensor team nearby could hear him. “What scan data are we getting off that thing’s hull?”
“Nothing unusual, sir,” said Lieutenant Roden. “Indications of the usual Ragger propulsion. Enhanced images suggest it’s unarmed.”
“And here it is.”
“I’ll bump it up the priority list, sir,” said Roden, taking the hint. “We’ll have eyes on it whatever happens.”
“Thank you.”
Stone had never decided if he believed in intuition. Usually, he did what felt right and here he was, still alive, if only by the skin of his teeth. Perhaps that proved intuition was a real thing, or maybe it proved nothing at all. Whatever the truth, he got a bad feeling from this cylindrical spaceship and he stared at the feed to see if he could get a sense of its purpose. No lightbulb illuminated in his head and he clenched his jaw.
“You can’t let this standoff become a show of strength, sir,” said Blackwood quietly.
“You’re right, Commander. I’ve seen what I needed to see.” Stone raised his voice. “Get me a channel to one of those motherships.”
“Waiting on a response, sir.”
“Of course,” muttered Stone angrily. “It’s all about the game when it comes to the Raggers. Someone speak to Admiral Isental on the Avatar. Find out how long we can expect this pissing about to last.”
During the short wait, Stone cast his eyes over the names of the Hantisar spaceships. Avatar. Excommunicator. Slayer. Piety. Vanquisher. Quietus. It was like the aliens had seen their war against the Sekar as a holy crusade. Maybe that’s what they needed to give them strength.
It didn’t work out too well for them.
“Admiral Isental doesn’t know, sir. He says the Fangrin and the Raggers didn’t do much in the way of talking.”
Stone already knew as much but had convinced himself that the dogs were exaggerating how limited their communications were with the Raggers. It appeared not.
“Fine. We’ve said hello, now let’s see what happens.”
With a bubbling anger at the unnecessary power play, Stone settled himself in for an uncomfortable period of inactivity.
Chapter Ten
Having won the battle of who would speak first, the Raggers didn’t leave Stone waiting for too long.
“Riviss-Uld-95 on the Ragger ship Prime004 demands to speak to you, sir.”
“Demands, eh?” said Stone mildly. “In that case, you’d better put him onto the bridge speakers.”
“Open, sir?”
“That’s what I said, Lieutenant.”
“Done.”
Stone resisted the urge to clear his throat and got straight on with the game. “Riviss-Uld-95,” he said. “I was expecting someone senior.”
“You have come like we ordered, human,” said the Ragger in its repulsively malign voice.
“Didn’t keep you waiting too long, I hope?”
The Ragger ignored the question. “An exchange of technologies.”
“That’s why we’re here,” said Stone.
“Talks will begin on Prime004 in twenty-four hours.”
“Not so fast,” Stone replied. “We aren’t here for talks, Ragger. Agreement was made – this is the time to fulfil it.”
“We made no agreement, human. You were offered an opportunity and you grasped it eagerly. Now you have come at our bidding and we will commence discussions.”
“Delay is a trait of the weak and indecisive, Ragger. I thought I had come to deal with someone capable of making things happen. Next you will tell me you require authorization to break wind in the toilet.”
Stone heard Commander Blackwell choke on something. He didn’t turn to see what it was.
“You think we will give away centuries of our research to an upstart species without talks, human? Be aware that I am finely balanced between destroying your inferior fleet and humoring you further.”
“Centuries of research and for what?” scoffed Stone. “To fall meekly beneath the onslaught of the Sekar? This fleet you see here is equipped with weaponry that can destroy any of humanity’s opponents. Perhaps you would prefer to bargain with the Fangrin?”
“Despite your callous disregard for your betters, I will permit you to exist for a while longer. Don’t think to anger me again, else I feel obliged to make an example of you.”
With the opening exchanges done, Stone asked himself how he could move this to closure. He had no intention of dancing to the Raggers’ tune and even less desire to sit out here in empty space exchanging pleasantries with a species he despised. For all he kn
ew, Riviss-Uld-95 might choose to drag the talks out for weeks, just for the hell of it. Alliance intel was clear that the Raggers were taking a beating from the Sekar, but not so clear on how long the aliens would last. Stone wasn’t keen to push the game of brinkmanship so far that the Unity League lost another planet.
“We will consider your request for a meeting,” he said.
“Do not think too long.”
With that, the comms link went dead, leaving Stone with a furrowed brow and tapping his fingers against the edge of his console. A few meters away, Dr Austin watched him carefully, doubtless to see if the short conversation with Riviss-Uld-95 had drained too many of Stone’s reserves. Unconsciously, he straightened.
“Inter ship comms are secure, right?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. The Raggers are employing standard intercept methods, but the chances of them capturing and decrypting one of our signals is remote, especially since we’re broadcasting a hundred billion dummy transmissions every second.”
“I’ll speak to Admiral Isental. Front screen.”
Isental responded to the call at once and his grizzled face appeared on one of the displays. Stone didn’t bother to ask if he’d read the live transcript of his discussion with Riviss-Uld-95.
“What do you think?” asked Stone.
The Fangrin curled his lip on one side of his muzzle, exposing teeth. “Delay benefits neither side. We have something they want and they have something we want. Any sentient creature would make the exchange and have done.”
The words echoed Stone’s opinion. “The Raggers are slippery bastards,” he said. “What if delay does benefit them in some way?”
“Call his bluff and find out.”
“Yes – I will.”
This time, Riviss-Uld-95 kept Stone waiting for a full ten minutes.
“You have decided,” the Ragger said when he finally joined the comms channel.
Scum of the Universe (Fire and Rust Book 7) Page 7