Star Glory (Empire Series Book 1) Page 23

  “Emergence in one minute forty seconds,” called Louise Ibarra from Astrogation.

  I sat up straighter than I already sat. Accel straps limited my movements. The vacsuit felt tight. The hinged helmet bumped the back of my neck. The breathing of everyone else on Engineering sounded like a hurricane to my ears. At least the forest of injector tubes limited my super vision. And I could resist the impulse to push against the straps and break them with my greater strength. Impulse control had been one of the first things my parents had taught me long ago, just after I entered public school. Even then my extra strength and other abilities had been apparent. A fact resented by my two older sisters, who were quite sensory normal. But Mom and Dad had taught me well while praising my abilities. All that time and effort by them had led me to being here, at the forefront of human survival in a galaxy run by a ruthless alien oligarchy called the Empire of Eternity. Well, maybe them being used to always being on top in any confrontation could be used against them. It was the germ of anticipation.

  “All Ship,” called the captain. “We will shortly arrive at Kepler 445. Empire ships may already be here. Weapons, power up your lasers and the gamma ray lasers. Reactors, bring your operation to 98 percent of max output. PO Watson, stand ready at your antimatter beamer but do not fire at anything without my explicit order!”

  “All weapons systems powering up, sir,” called Bill Yamamoto.

  To one side Dolores spoke. “Fusion reactors on Engineering and Weapons decks are at 98 percent, sir.”

  “That is confirmed,” called Diego Suárez y Alonso from his Power station on the Bridge.

  “Sir,” called Bill over the All Ship comlink. “Antimatter beamer is fully operational and ready to eject the beam’s magnetic containment spiral. Antimatter flow has reached the beamer’s holding cell.”

  “Good. Heidi, be ready to repel any attempt to ride your sensors into ship systems.”

  “I am always ready to repel worms and digital bots,” the AI said snippily. “The Empire failed to penetrate the first time we met. They will fail now.”

  “Which assumes the Empire will be present in this system,” commented Nadya Kumisov from her XO seat below the captain.

  “True,” the captain said softly. “Chang, have your sensor arrays reaching out the moment we emerge. I have to know our tactical situation sooner than instantly.”

  “Yes sir, my systems are up and ready to track,” murmured Hilary Chang.

  “Ten seconds,” said Ibarra, excitement clear in her voice.

  I told my heart to slow down. It obeyed, reluctantly. I told my lungs to stop expanding so often. They obeyed slowly. I needed my thinking to be clear, concise and insightful. Whatever happened after emergence, all of us had to be at the top of our abilities.

  “Emerging.”

  A true space image from our electro-optical scope now became a third image on the vidscreen. The system graphic shimmered as new data arrived at the front and rear sensor arrays. The image of the Bridge was steady and stable.

  The dark red star of Kepler 445 shone dimly in the true space image. No sign of visible planets or comets showed.

  “Neutrino signatures!” yelled Chang suddenly. “Uh, lots around planet three. Some midways out. Ten further out.”

  “Be exact,” the captain said calmly. “Any Empire ship signatures?”

  The image of Chang showed her leaning over her control panel. Concurrent with her speaking the system graphic imagery changed. “Sir, there are twenty-one Empire emissions and eight non-Empire sources. Fifteen Empire emissions are in orbit above planet three. Four are at 10 AU and exiting this system’s asteroid belt. Two are at 27 AU and close to the eight non-Empire sources. The star’s magnetosphere edge is at 30 AU. We are at 31 AU. The eight non-Empire ships and their pursuers are a third of the system away from us. Sir.”

  The system graphic now showed everything Chang had detailed. Planet three lay at one-fifth AU out from the star, planets one and two notably closer. The asteroid belt showed as a dotted line at 10 AU. The mag edge was another dotted line at 30 AU. There were no gas giants or any other planets in the system. But there sure as hell were plenty of Empire ships! I scanned the twenty-one red dots of Empire ships, then the eight purple dots of the unknowns and finally our single green dot at the edge of the system. That single green dot brought the germ of anticipation to full flower. I tapped my armrest.

  “Captain Skorzeny! PO Stewart here. Suggest you launch our four GTO shuttles now! The fusion reactors on them will put out Earth flavor neutrino emissions. Sir, this is a way for us to appear like a fleet of five ships versus one!”

  In the Bridge overhead the captain frowned. Then he looked down. “Major, get your Marine pilots into all four GTOs. The other two have nose lasers in them, right?”

  “Yes sir, they do. We had them fitted on in the raider base drydock,” Owanju said as he tapped his own armrest comlink patch. “Sergeants Jenkins and Osashi, get into shuttles One and Two. Assign two other pilots to Three and Four. Then launch into convoy formation. Do it now!”

  “Moving,” called Melody Jenkins.

  “Out of my cabin,” reported Matsumoto Osashi.

  “Johnson and Khan, get to shuttles Three and Four,” Jenkins said over the All Ship.

  My buddy and the other Marine acknowledged. Captain Skorzeny looked up at the videye watching him and everyone. “PO Stewart, that’s a fine idea. But what happens when we make an Alcubierre micro-jump? The shuttles do not have fusion pulse thrusters and cannot make Alcubierre.”

  I swallowed hard. Three dee imagery filled my mind. Imagery of this system, the Empire ships and our single ship, which would soon appear as five ships. “Sir, pull the GTOs back into the midbody hangar when we have to jump. Then launch them again on arrival. If the Empire questions their disappearance, tell them we have solved their invisibility cloak tech. Say the four GTOs have gone into stealth when we move.”

  A half smile showed on his face. “Better and better. Stewart, remind me to never play chess with you. And—”

  “Sir. Incoming neutrino message,” called Jacob Wetstone. “It’s not from an Empire source. Frequency is one of those used by the Melanchon.”

  “Put it up on our vidscreen. Share it live over All Ship.”

  In the bulkhead vidscreen the live space image changed from the dim red star to one showing seven aliens standing in some kind of room. I blinked. The aliens resembled upright chameleons, though they lacked a tail. Still, their triangular heads had raised ridge crests similar to the veiled chameleon. And their wrinkled skin showed mostly blue and green colors, though spots and streaks of red and orange appeared here and there. They had toothy mouths and two black eyes arranged to give binocular vision directly ahead. Their upper arms had four-fingered hands with one thumb per hand. From their waists hung silvery cloth that reached down to their knobby knees. The blue, green, red and orange colors shifted now, moving into distinct patterns.

  “Chromatophore people,” muttered Bjorg. “Of the iridophore variation.”

  “New ships,” spoke the image. “You are not Empire. Are you friendly to people in distress? We are escapees from the destruction of our home world. Now, our colony world has been destroyed by the Empire. See?”

  A new image appeared on the vidscreen. It showed planet three with its single white moon. But where one expected to see blue oceans and green forests, there was a spreading cloud of blackness. The blackness seemed to be on the world’s surface, not in its air, as white clouds drifted above the blackness. One continent was already fully enveloped. The entire ocean between it and the next continent was almost entirely black. As we watched, tendrils of blackness moved slowly out of the ocean and onto the land, apparently following the courses of rivers. Whatever this blackness was, it spread by way of water. But its landside spread also seemed fast. Did the waterborne blackness put out some kind of deadly spores? The captain spoke.

  “I am Captain Neil Skorzeny of the heavy cruiser Star Glory. W
e are humans, from the planet Earth, a yellow star system. We too were attacked by this Empire. Who are you?”

  The seven chameleon aliens did not look to each other at the captain’s reply. They did not have to. Their skin color changes spoke to each other. Then reality corrected my assumption. The eyes on the sides of each chameleon head shifted sideways, moving independently. Then they resumed watching their version of a vidscreen. Or something that conveyed the image of the captain and the Bridge.

  “Interesting are your shapes,” said the broadcast. The central alien tapped his arching chest. “My lineage sign is Random Thoughts. We are the Sendera people. The Empire destroyed our home world back in the stars they now control.” It paused as the other six chameleon folks spoke in skin color changes. “My lineage members remind me to share the present. We came here, since this star is similar to the star of our home world. Two of our lineage ships put down settlers on one of the third world’s continents. Our people were just setting up our first settlement when the Empire ships appeared. Two of our ships stayed and fought them. They died. The rest of us are seeking escape but the Empire pursues us. Their ships swim faster than ours. We will be caught before we reach the shoreline that allows us to vanish into grayness. Will you help us survive?”

  The captain blinked. Then he looked down at Kumisov. “XO, should we give our new weapons and speed a test? Or head home?”

  The Russian frowned. “Sir, this side of the system corresponds to the direction in which Sol lies. If we reverse course and head outward, it will tell the Empire the direction to Sol. Suggest we minijump to the ecliptic edge just beyond the vector track of these people. We can then either jump into Alcubierre, or head inward and fight. There are only two ships in close pursuit. The other four ships are almost twenty AU distant from the magnetosphere. Sir.”

  The captain nodded. “Tactical, what is the speed of the eight Sendera ships?”

  “Ten psol, sir.”

  “The speed of the two Empire pursuers?”

  “Fifteen psol.”

  Even I could tell the Empire ships would reach the chameleon folks before they could cross three AU and reach the safety of the system’s magnetosphere edge. While the mag edge was closer to the star due to its smaller size, still, the physics of creating Alcubierre space-time moduli were as real here as at the edge of Kepler 37 or 22. No ship can enter Alcubierre from within a star’s magnetosphere. For these people to survive and reach another star to planet a colony, they needed help. They needed us.

  “Random Thoughts, we are coming. We will enter grayness again, then emerge at the spot where you vector track crosses the magnetic shoreline of this system. Then we will head inward and fight your pursuers.”

  Blue and green skin color patterns ran riot among the seven chameleon people. The alien in the middle of the line of seven stepped forward. “I, Random Thoughts, give thanks to you humans. Our eight ships are armed. We will fight to survive. Perhaps with your help some of us will live to find a new shore for our people.”

  “We will be there shortly,” the captain said. “Shuttles! Come back into the hangar. Do it fast. Engineering, as soon as the shuttles are inside, take us into Alcubierre. Astrogation, set us on a vector track to arrive at a spot opposite the projected arrival point of the Sendera people.”

  “Computing new vector track,” Ibarra said. “Computed. Feeding data to Heidi.”

  My feet felt a brief vibration as the ship’s chemfuel attitude thrusters moved her onto a vector track angle that would put us one-third of the system’s outer circumference out from our current position.

  “All shuttles are inside,” called the voice of Major Owanju.

  To my left the chief lowered his hands to the Alcubierre touchscreen. He tapped it. “Captain, entering Alcubierre in three, two, one seconds and . . . now!”

  Grayness replaced the chameleon imagery, leaving the Bridge view and the system graphic. Mentally I counted down the seconds. We were now on a chord vector that directly linked our arrival spot with our new position, one-third of the way around the edge of this system’s plane of ecliptic. Forty seconds passed. Fifty. Sixty-one, two, three—

  “Emerging!” called Ibarra.

  In the vidscreen our scope showed the true space image of the dim red dwarf surrounded by total blackness. That darkness was only relieved by the white swath of the Milky Way and hundreds of other distant stars that shone blue, yellow, white, orange and red. On either side of the scope were the system graphic, which now updated to show our new position, and the Bridge overhead.

  “Sir, we are at 30.2 AU out,” Chang said. “We are heading inward at 10 psol. The eight Sendera ships are 2.9 AU distant from us.”

  That put us four hours distant from then. Actually two hours I corrected my brain. It would take four hours to get to them if they stayed stationary at under 3 AU out. But they were rushing toward us at 10 psol while we were doing the same at 10 psol. That cut the rendezvous time to two hours. But the Empire ships would overtake them in less than that.

  “Engineering, activate our magfield drive,” the captain said calmly.

  The chief touched the magfield drive control panel. Then he slapped the thruster control panel. “Captain, I’ve activated the magfield drive. I have also activated our three fusion pulse thrusters. They cannot add to our basic 10 psol but they give us maneuvering power as needed. Sir.”

  My antimatter touchscreen speed readout now read 10.2, then 10.8, then eleven. In less than a minute the readout climbed to 15 psol. Or just over 100 million miles per hour. It did not change.

  “Chief O’Connor, activate our antimatter afterburner. I want to guarantee our arrival before the Empire ships arrive close enough to damage the Sendera ships. Those eight ships are all that is left of billions of thinking people. While they could become new members of our NATO of the Stars, I am going to their aide for a more basic reason. No human can stand by and watch genocide happen without taking action. I am acting.”

  The captain did not owe the chief, me nor anyone else on the ship a rationale for his decision to aid the Sendera. As captain he ruled, period. But he also had the wisdom to share with all 369 of us the reasons why we should risk our lives to save the lives of aliens whom we had never before met. Aliens who might reach the mag edge and disappear without even a thank you. Or they might be people who would be good neighbors to humanity. For me, the chance to avert new genocide was enough. The image of the third world’s death at the touch of a black tide had immediately translated into a mental image of Earth dying just that way. Likely many other crew on our twelve decks had thought the same. Some were surely afraid, considering how they had watched the Empire attack and destroy the HMS Dauntless and the Pyotr Velikiy. Others, like me, wanted vengeance for the loss of our shipmates. Maybe even Nehru would support the captain’s decision, if he were not in the Brig. Duplicity among humans is normal. Genocide is not.

  I tapped my touchscreen. Antimatter flowed down the nine injector tubes to the three thruster funnels below my feet. The rainbow shimmer around each tube was beautifully sharp, stable and bright. Three star plasmas were now touched by negative antimatter. Within the fusion pulse confinement fields there now happened a total conversion of plasma matter to pure energy. While the plasma was mostly energy produced by the fusion of deuterium and tritium, still, there were components of normal matter in that plasma. That normal matter now combined with the antimatter, generating an afterburner push. On my touchscreen the speed readout went to 16 psol.

  “Sir!” called Ibarra. “There is an incoming neutrino com signal. It is Empire sent!”

  “Accept and put it up on the vidscreen. Share it over the All Ship. Let’s see what the Empire has to say. Or threaten.”

  Looking away from the beauty of nine vertical rainbows I concentrated on the bulkhead vidscreen. Three images were there. The Bridge, the system graphic which showed the eight purple dot Sendera ships much closer to us, with the two red dots of the Empire ships pursuing them, a
nd the true space scope image in the middle. The scope image was replaced by the face and body of a

  black-furred otter. White fur stripes swept down to either side. The otter alien stood on two thick legs. Its two slim arms hung down to its curving hips. The shoulders flowed straight into a curving neck that supported an otter-like head that held two black eyes, a brown nose, sharp white teeth and flaring whiskers. The dome of a large braincase rose up above the creature’s eyes. Lower was a black-furred tail that hung from its rear, its smooth fur shiny under a white light. The tail did not move. To either side of Smooth Fur and behind it were the same nine aliens as before. The walking otter’s mouth opened. Inside a pink tongue moved.

  “Greetings to Captain Neil Skorzeny, manager of the Earth starship Star Glory.” It lifted an arm and gestured rearward at a vidscreen that showed planet three now almost fully covered in blackness. “As you can see, we are tending to the proper punishment of the Sendera rebels. We destroyed their home world earlier. Then we discovered they had settled on a new world in this system near the edge of our frontier. That world is now dying and soon will be dead of all life.” Smooth Fur’s whiskers flared sideways. Two black eyes stared. “It appears you seek to interfere with my judgment against the remaining rebel ships. Depart. Or my ships will destroy you, then find your world of Earth and destroy it as you see here. What is your choice?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Sir, the shuttles have launched,” whispered XO Kumisov.

  I watched, wondering what the captain would say. While he had liked my solution for appearing like a fleet versus a singleton ship, there was more to fighting battles than appearances.

  “Smooth Fur, I regret your ship is not one of the two Empire ships pursuing the Sendera ships,” the captain said casually. “Then you would have a front row view of how deadly humans are. We are now five ships. We are stronger than before. Advise your two ships, and the four behind them, to change vector and turn back to the planet you have destroyed. Or we will remove them from existence.”