Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3)
Page 38
“It really did work, then?”
“Looks like.” She studied Harper, suddenly nervous. “I don’t think he’s going away this time. Are you comfortable with that?”
“Seeing as I’m the one who put him there.” Harper stood and leaned in to bring her lips to Morgan’s ear. “He brought you back to me. I adore him.”
So that felt warmer and more wonderful than pretty much anything in the world…
…and an alert from Alex crashed the party, banging around all loud and rude in her head. She winced. “Can I walk?”
Harper stepped away, adopting a suspicious countenance. “If you take it slow and cautious and accept a bit of help, I think so. Why?”
She pushed herself to a sitting position and dragged her legs over the edge of the bed. “You and I have a war to go fight.”
PART VIII:
KAIROS
“Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
— Neil Gaiman
AMARANTHE
60
AFS STALWART II
MOSAIC
* * *
ALEX WOULD HAVE RUN to embrace her mother, if she could run. Instead, she threw the untapped energy into the fervency of the hug when her mother reached her. “One hell of a fleet you’ve got here.”
The ships from Aurora had traversed the Metis portal to gather in strength inside the Mosaic, and the Siyane joined them while they waited for the last formations to arrive. The combined Alliance, Federation and AEGIS vessels took up the entire lobby space, and in damn impressive fashion.
“You’re alive, again. I fear I’m starting to sound like a looped recording.”
“I am. I guess dumping the Machim data on you without so much as a ‘hi’ to go with it might have caused some concern.”
“A little.” Her mother drew back, and her expression immediately darkened. “And I suspect with good reason. You look awful. What happened?”
“It’s a long story—one that includes the reason for the lack of a ‘hi’—but it doesn’t matter now. I’ll be fine.”
Miriam arched an eyebrow, and Alex folded under the weight of it. She supposed she did share traumatic experiences with her mother these days.
“Okay, the short version: Caleb and I were captured stealing the Machim data, taken to a Praesidis interrogation facility and tortured for information. Valkyrie, Mesme and Eren rescued us.”
“Dear lord, Alex. Is that all?”
We could tell her about the crippling anxiety and despair I experienced while I was cut off from you, unable to help you or even find out if you were alive or dead.
Or we could not. And it wasn’t crippling—you acted superbly.
Yes, but it was hard.
“Also, who’s Eren?”
“Mom, there is so much I want to tell you, and I promise I will. But enemy warships speeding toward us?”
“Right. Of course.” She frowned over Alex’s shoulder. “Does Caleb know he’s got a sort of red aura surrounding him?”
She cringed and glanced at Caleb as well. He was hanging back, keeping his distance from other people and trying to be inconspicuous, though the preoccupied look on his face suggested he was silently talking to multiple people nonetheless.
“Yeah, he knows. He got dosed by another Inquisitor—a powerful one, apparently. Hopefully the effect will settle down after a while, but we’re not certain what the higher concentration of diati means for him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. We never would’ve been able to escape from that captivity I don’t have time to tell you more about if he hadn’t trounced the Inquisitor. It’s complicated, but the power’s a good thing.”
Miriam nodded in seeming acceptance. “All right. I trust your judgment”
Alex started to bask in the compliment, then remembered her mother probably shouldn’t trust it. “Listen, I heard about the Rifter problem. In retrospect, I obviously didn’t run the equations out far enough. I didn’t imagine there would be ramifications so far out.” She cringed. “In my defense, time was short and I wasn’t at my best? Still, I feel terrible about it.”
“Your less-than-best saved my life, and it’s going to save a lot of lives today. Besides, we got it sorted.” She squeezed Alex’s shoulder warmly. “So, no time. What’s the situation?”
“The Machim fleet should reach the Provision Network Gateway in about an hour and twenty minutes. We have a lot to do between now and then.”
“You have a plan, and it involves something more devious than simply continuing on through the enormous blue portal my scouts tell me is up ahead a bit.”
“I do, and it does. What’s the range on your negative energy missiles?”
“Twelve and a half megameters.”
Valkyrie did the math, and Alex prevaricated. “If we hightail it as soon as they launch, we’ll be able to clear the blast radius. I need to borrow five of your Eidolons, each one loaded up with those missiles. Also, I need two missiles for the Siyane.”
“Done. See Commander Lekkas for details on the Eidolons. What about the other forty-eight thousand ships I went to all the trouble of bringing?”
Alex smiled.
She found Morgan in aft Logistics, lying in a reclined seat and surrounded by a revolving sphere of holos. One leg was encased in a thick gel casing; the other leg and an arm were wrapped in less-cumbersome flex medwraps.
Alex made a face as she reached the periphery of the sphere. “What happened to you?”
Morgan scowled at her in return. “What happened to you?”
“Got tortured by an Anaden prison drone for eighteen hours.”
“Nice. Montegreu’s rogue AI tried to kill me by crashing my skycar into the side of a high-rise. Stanley had to bring me out of a coma.”
“Stanley? But I thought….”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Turns out rumors of his demise had been greatly exaggerated.”
Alex decided to just go with it for now. “Interesting. I’m here about some Eidolons.”
“I heard.” Morgan spread the fingers on her right hand and the holos flared out into a line in front of her. “Meet ESC Flight One-Alpha, -Bravo, -Charlie, -Delta and -Epsilon. ESC One, meet Alex Solovy and Valkyrie.”
Alex: Those aren’t exactly inventive names.
Morgan: They’re young and not overly sentimental. But they’re real, so respect them.
Valkyrie: Wait—these Artificials are ships?
Morgan: Yes, they are. And your doppelganger helped to create them.
Valkyrie: Vii gave life to Artificials in the form of ships? That’s…magnificent.
Alex: Stop squealing, Valkyrie. We have work to do.
Valkyrie: I don’t squeal.
Alex: Uh-huh.
“Hello, everyone. My mother—Commandant Solovy—has authorized the five of you to help me execute a crucial opening move against the approaching Machim fleet. Are you game?”
They didn’t have vocal transmission capability, but the affirmations rang through in her head. She smiled, sensing their enthusiasm and Valkyrie’s in turn.
“Excellent. Meet me at the coordinates Valkyrie is providing to you in twenty-five minutes. Full stealth and noetic communications only.”
She waved at Morgan. “See you on the other side.”
“What are the odds?”
Alex gazed around the logistics center. Outside of Morgan’s holo bubble, military officers worked purposefully at banks upon banks of screens and virtual modules.
She thought about how the bridge had buzzed with activity and vigor, and about the tens of thousands of warships gathering around the Stalwart II. Many boasted hyper-advanced designs, the end result of her mother, Kennedy and countless others having innovated around adiamene, quantum spaces, Artificials and Prevos in ways she never could have fathomed.
“I’d say the odds are pretty damn good.”
6
1
PROVISION NETWORK GATEWAY
MILKY WAY SECTOR 41
* * *
“ALL VESSELS TO FULL ALERT. Shields to maximum.” It was overkill in the extreme, but so was loading his ships up with a hundred Igni missiles. The Katasketousya fielded no military; they had no internalized concept of violence and no way to commit it upon others.
But a lack of preparation was an unforced error waiting to happen, and Casmir did not take chances. No Machim did.
Something else he did not do was question his Primor, which rendered the internal dialogue moot in any event.
They approached the Provision Network Gateway and found the region surrounding it empty. The colossal portal hung quietly in space. During the time it had been within sensor range, no vessels had traversed it, which could be a sign something was amiss.
He checked Ziton, who stood stoically off to the side of the bridge overlook, but received no indication the Inquisitor desired any particular course of action.
“Tactical, launch a probe through the portal. Before we traverse it, I want to know if there are any traps awaiting us.”
“Yes, sir.”
The probe pierced the Gateway silently. Its presence failed to set off any attacks or explosions. It returned ten seconds later and transmitted nominal readings: empty, normal and unpopulated space beyond the barrier.
“Squads MW R14-20 and 21, proceed through the Gateway to a distance of 0.5 megameters and assume a defensive formation. Squads 22 and 23, prepare to proceed after them. Same directive.”
Forty ships neared the portal in precise rows configured to stretch ninety percent of its width. The noses of the vessels comprising the first row began to disappear through the plasma—
—space warped in on itself.
Multiple vortexes formed within the plasma, devouring the bright white-blue energy until the portal grew blacker than the space surrounding it.
The Gateway wrenched apart as its frame buckled and fell into the whirling chasms of negative energy. The ships closest to the Gateway followed, row after row annihilated in the blink of an eye.
Waves of energy surged outward as the very fabric of space-time was dragged in multiple directions, falling into hidden dimensions only to be hurled back out into their own.
Farther from the nucleus of the turbulence, ships began to fall prey to the tremendous forces unleashed like dominoes set in motion, and the viewport lit up in the fire of engine core explosions.
Casmir should not have hesitated to act; military commanders must never hesitate. But the attack—if that’s what it was—did not seem possible. Ambushes such as this did not happen.
He blinked. “All back full, all formations!”
He felt the propulsion strain against the weakening but still tenacious waves. His Imperium was positioned near the rear of his forces, and many of the vessels ahead proved unable to elude the chaos. He could only watch on as they succumbed to a kind of slow-motion dismemberment.
Fifteen megameters reversed, they finally pulled free of the perturbations. “Regiment captains, report in.”
Dismay overtook him as the damage reports rolled in. He’d just lost over a third of his forces, with another quarter hobbled. The Provision Network Gateway was gone, rendering his mission a failure before it had begun.
And he had no idea who or what had struck at them.
“Sir, I’ve got multiple readings centered S 90° 21° z E, four megameters distance and closing.”
The bridge shuddered. Had they been fired on? “All Regiments, battle stations!” He expanded the radar in front of him and was greeted with a multitude of contacts.
The helmsman cleared his throat. “Navarchos, is that…an armada of warships?”
Casmir’s mind threatened to reel from the successive shocks. It had been two centuries since he’d faced an ambush, and for his memory never one of this fashion. But he was an elasson-rank Machim, bred and molded to be the most formidable and stalwart of combatants.
His jaw locked into resilience. “We must assume it is.”
“But…whose?”
62
AFS STALWART II
MILKY WAY SECTOR 41
* * *
THE REMAINS OF THE MACHIM FLEET, vaunted for its structure and order as much as for its size, lay strewn haphazardly across six megameters of space in front of Miriam.
The Provision Network Gateway, a marvel of construction millennia beyond anything humans could create hung in shambles behind said fleet, ripped apart at a particle level by twenty-two 5,000-kilotonne equivalent negative energy bombs.
She allowed herself a small, private smile of satisfaction, then swiftly banished any glee-like sentiments and imposed combat decorum on herself once more. The element of surprise and the confusion it sowed only worked if they capitalized on it.
Commandant Solovy: “All Class A weapons free. Class B and C weapons are to be used solely within their safety parameters. Take out as many enemy vessels as possible before they recover and reform ranks. Go on the offensive and thin the herd.”
She switched to the command channel. “Marshal Bastian, sensors indicate the spatial disruptions from the negative energy bombs have dissipated. Stealth and swing your forces around behind the enemy vessels.”
Field Marshal Bastian (SFS Medici): “Solid copy.”
Stealth on a dreadnought. Add it to the list of concepts thought impossible a short year ago. It burned too much power to use during weaponized combat, but in short spurts, especially to conceal tactical movements, it represented a potent tool that stood to redefine the role of dreadnoughts in warfare.
Commandant Solovy: “Admiral Rychen, give the enemy a set of big targets to shoot at so they don’t notice the Field Marshal’s flanking maneuver.”
She wasn’t throwing Rychen, his impressive new dreadnought, the EAS Virginia, and those under his command to the wolves. Alliance warships were and had always been the sturdiest vessels built. Now more than ever, they should be able to weather the assault.
Admiral Rychen (EAS Virginia): “Eager to do so.”
Back to the all-forces channel.
Commandant Solovy: “AEGIS 1st and 2nd Assault Brigades, swarm at will. 3rd Assault Brigade, glue yourselves to the Imperium currently located at the marked coordinates. Sabres, let the fighters shield you while you fire from a distance. Remaining formations, assign yourselves enemy battlecruisers and destroyers and go to work.”
If all those moves progressed smoothly, the Machim contingent may never successfully reform into proper lines, but she didn’t dare hope for it to be so easy. “Thomas, what are we looking at? Talk numbers to me.”
‘Nearly three thousand battlecruisers, nine thousand destroyers, thirty-five hundred specialized vessels and approximately eighty thousand fighter-type craft.’
Based on Alex’s figures, this meant the enemy was down thirty-five to forty percent of its ships. Scanning the scene out the wraparound viewport, she shuddered to think how the entire contingent would have looked. As it was, the Machim ships were a horde clogging the void.
She tracked a number of early AEGIS victories in the opening salvos while the enemy struggled to reorganize and properly engage their attackers. Another twelve percent of the enemy formations went down in the first minute, primarily due to the ability of the Sabres to unleash their considerable firepower unopposed.
At eight hundred meters in length and only sixty meters width, the vessels were glorified flying plasma railguns, staffed by less than a dozen personnel and an Artificial. The flipside to the armament-heavy design was a dearth of defensive shielding, and criminally thin sheets of adiamene represented the Sabres’ primary protection.
A massive explosion cascaded in the region designated Quadrant Five, off her starboard. She glanced at her XO. “Report.”
“One of the Machim cruisers fired what was likely an Igni missile. One hundred sixty-four Federation vessels and ninety-eight AEGIS vessels are unaccounted for.”
Well, the news couldn’t all be good, could it?
Commandant Solovy: “All ships. Artificials need to monitor nearby battlecruisers for Igni missile launches—the launch profile is being distributed now. When such a launch is detected, immediately disengage from your targets and evade at maximum velocity until you’re outside the range of the projected blast radius. Once the Igni missile has detonated, reengage. Vessels operating on the active perimeter, spread out. Extend the battlefield, and let’s buy everyone some space.”
There was nothing she could do for a ship targeted by one of the missiles—no shield or adiamene hull was capable of surviving a point-blank antimatter explosion—but she could save many ships that would otherwise be caught in the blasts.
Mnemosyne’s intel, as relayed by Alex earlier, suggested the Machim forces carried one hundred of the forbidding missiles in their arsenal. Perhaps some had been destroyed in the Gateway explosion, but she couldn’t afford to count on it.
Her orders should lessen the collateral damage, but the use by the enemy of anything close to a hundred of the missiles stood to wipe out her armada. And she had no way to know which of the three thousand odd battlecruisers carried them.
…Or did she? “Reconnaissance, launch an additional set of probes to the periphery of the combat zone. Have them focus on the movements and energy signatures of the Machim battlecruisers. Feed all the data into the Connexus.”
The Connexus was a micro-Noesis of sorts, a mindspace shared by the Artificials and Prevos serving in AEGIS. They had formed it on their own initiative and, since the Prevos involved were military first, instituted their own strict security measures to keep it private and protected.