Black Fleet Trilogy 1: Warship (28 page)

Pike

Inside the box was his 1911 pistol. He'd had it in his utility pocket when he'd taken the
Blue Jacket
and rammed her into the alien ship. He picked up the weapon and ran his hand down a long gouge in the slide, apparently the only damage it had suffered, and thought back on everything that had happened.

With the head trauma he'd suffered he actually had no real memory of the event that finally eliminated the enemy threat. The last thing he remembered was ordering the crew to abandon ship. He'd get strange glimpses of things when his mind hovered in that state between fully aware and dreaming, but they were so bizarre at times he had difficulty believing they were actually memories. In one of them he even kissed Lieutenant Davis, something that would never have happened in reality.

He placed the weapon back in the box, his right foot jarring something that had been stuffed up under the desk as he did. When he bent down a wide smile creased his face. A case of genuine Kentucky bourbon was nestled down next to the trash can. He pulled one of the bottles out and saw it was from the area's most legendary distiller, far better than the stuff Singh had been able to get him. He set the square bottle on the desk, admiring the black label that hadn't changed in centuries, and scrounged around for a glass.

Sitting heavily in the chair, he raised his glass in silent salute to the hundreds of spacers who hadn't come back from the
Blue Jacket's
final voyage, and then went about trying to forget everything that had happened since the destroyer had departed Jericho Station nearly five months ago.

****

"How's the leg, son?"

"Strangely enough, it itches, sir," Jackson said.

"I've heard of that," Chief of Staff Marcum said. "Phantom itch, I believe they call it. You still reach down to scratch the prosthetic when it happens?"

"Yes, sir," Jackson said. "Highly unsatisfying, sir."

Marcum laughed genuinely at that and gestured for him to sit down in one of the overstuffed chairs that were in the office.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that ridiculous puppet theater with Fleet Admiral Jessop," Marcum said, pouring three drinks and handing two of the glasses out without even asking if either of his guests wanted a drink before noon on a Tuesday.

"That was partially my fault," Senator Wellington said, sipping at the obscenely expensive Scotch and nodding in appreciation. "Well ... more specifically my aide, Aston Lynch. You've had the pleasure of meeting the man, haven't you, Captain?"

"Yes, sir, I have," Jackson said carefully.

"Don't worry," Wellington said. "I know who he really is. CIS administrator thought he was being sneaky putting Pike in my office, but once I figured out who he was the benefit has far outweighed the risks of having a spy walking around within my staff. Pike may be an enormous pain in the ass, but he can dig up information like nobody's business."

"To the
Blue Jacket
, and to her lost crew," Marcum said, raising his glass. "May they rest in peace." The other two also raised their glass and saluted. "Now ... to business. I've authorized the bump in your security clearance, Captain, and I want you working with CIS for the time being while we figure out what, exactly, we're going to do about this new threat. There are many considerations, mostly political, that may necessarily delay our response, but I want you working with the analysts and reviewing all the sensor logs you managed to save from your ship.

"I know that's not an appealing prospect, reliving all of it again, but it's vital to our efforts. You've not only defeated the enemy, albeit at great cost, but you're now the de facto expert in tactics and battle planning."

"That's somewhat distressing, sir," Jackson said. "Much of what we did was simply because our primary response wouldn't work by virtue of the ship's weaponry being in such bad repair. If I had working laser banks I can't say I'd have ever thought to employ the mag-cannons."

"What about that trick with the Mark VIIIs you were carrying?" Wellington asked. "I never did fully understand that."

"That?" Jackson asked. "That was a desperate move which, shockingly, paid off. We knew from our last few engagements that the cannons were effective, but simply weren't inflicting enough damage given the enemy's size and ability to heal. I had Chief Engineer Singh load up the payload bay of each missile with a powerful binary explosive we were able to synthesize with the chemicals we had on hand.

"When we made our final turn we lobbed them out behind the ship facing the opposite way we were flying. While the
Blue Jacket's
engines were providing enough thermal interference to hide it, each missile burned two complete stages, decelerating them along our same course. Once we fired the cannons and passed the target, all its attention was on us. The missiles slowly drifted into the area behind us, completely unnoticed since they were flying cold. Commander Wright had programmed them to turn and seek out any hull breaches in the enemy and aim for that spot, burning their final stage.

"We actually didn't think it had worked. It turns out the first two stages had decelerated them more than we anticipated and they simply arrived late to the party." Jackson looked up and saw the two men were actually leaning forward in their seats, hanging on his every word.

"As I said," he shrugged, "a desperate gamble. It came at a high cost since we flew right into the enemy's trap. They'd baited us to approach the planet and the plasma blast we were hit with was on an order of magnitude more powerful than any of the shots they had taken up to that point. It literally vaporized the
Blue Jacket's
prow and forward compartments. They meant to take us out, but the old
Raptor
-class was too tough for them to manage it with one shot."

"Stunning," Marcum said quietly. "Whether you know it or not ... like it or not ... you're vital to this effort, Captain. Just the experience of true combat ... I would never make light of the losses by saying I wished I was there, but your account of the experience is ... intoxicating. Fleet has forgotten what it is to be warriors first and foremost. CENTCOM is infested with administrative lackeys like Winters and Jessop, and neither of them has ever even stepped foot on the bridge of a starship while underway. That will all have to change if we're going to stand a chance against this sort of enemy."

"We'll also need to bring the other numbered fleets into the fold, sir," Jackson said, speaking before his brain could stop his mouth.

"Oh?"

"Black Fleet simply isn't equipped to mount any sort of defense against aliens who can wipe out planets and fire directed plasma bursts like the one we encountered, sir."

"That's about to change as well, Captain," Marcum said with a grim smile.

"Indeed," Wellington said. "Everything is about to change. After hundreds of years, humanity is going back to war."

Epilogue:

"You're absolutely sure about this man?"

"Quite sure, Mr. President," Joseph Marcum said, leaning back in the chair and waiting patiently while President McKellar read through the brief.

"I mean, I appreciate what he's been through and what he managed to accomplish—" McKellar hesitated.

"But?" Marcum prompted.

"But I could have a hard time selling this to the Senate," McKellar said. "A captain with a long record of disciplinary actions against him ... a suspected alcoholic. Let's be honest, Joseph, he's the poster boy for those who want to eliminate the Fleet's Earth Commissioning Program."

"Sir," Marcum said, his face darkening, "we could very well be in a fight for the survival of the species if what the analysts are saying is even half true. The bigotry of certain politicians aside, I need Captain Wolfe at the forefront of this. He has more combat experience than every other officer in Fleet combined, which isn't saying much, and despite his self-deprecating nature he's a gifted tactician and a born leader. The fact that he was able to defeat this alien ship with an antique
Raptor
-class destroyer and a crew I wouldn't trust to fly a garbage scow speaks volumes."

"Nobody here is saying he isn't qualified
because
he's from Earth," McKellar said, far too quickly and in a voice pitched up an octave. "I'm just letting you know what obstacles might be ahead."

"With all due respect, Mr. President," Marcum said, choosing his words carefully, "the Terran fleet has been a political institution for far too long. The actions of Winters and Jessop prove that. Winters alone cost us millions of lives with her game playing. This needs to change, and quickly, if we're to have a chance."

"I'll do what I can, of course," McKellar said lamely, shrinking away from even the perception of prejudice, like any politician.

"Of course," Marcum repeated. "If you'll excuse me, sir, I have work to do. We all have work to do."

****

"Are you feeling well, Senator?"

"Space travel disagrees with me and this is the fifth stop we've made on this sightseeing tour," Augustus Wellington said brusquely. "Just show us what you have, Doctor."

"Right this way, sir," Dr. Eugene Allrest said, gesturing towards the open doors at the end of the corridor. "We've been keeping the samples submerged in liquid helium for the time being. Whenever they come within ten meters of each other they begin to react and try to move towards each other. We lost one researcher before we understood what was happening."

"My condolences," Wellington said in a tone of voice that indicated he could care less.

"Here it is," Allrest said as they walked into a large chamber dominated by an enormous cylindrical tank that was filled with fluid. In the center of that floated something that looked like a discolored mass of medical waste. "From what we've been able to tell so far, this seems to be the central processing unit."

"It doesn't look like any processor I've ever seen," Wellington said, crossing his arms against the chill in the room.

"Well, no," Allrest said. "The samples we've been given would indicate that they are from a biologically constructed machine."

"You mean a life form?" Wellington asked sarcastically.

"I'm not willing to make that determination at this time," Allrest said stiffly. "While some of my colleagues may—"

"I don't give a shit what you eggheads are arguing about amongst yourselves," Wellington waved him off. "This is the same damn argument I've heard about four times already. What can you tell me about what happened on the surface of the planets this thing was visiting? That's you guys, right? I keep getting all the individual labs mixed up."

"Ah, yes ... of course," Allrest said, now flustered. "Upon arriving over a planet it appears the main construct would deploy smaller landers to the surface that contained segmented burrowers. The people of Podere were calling them 'worms.' These burrowers would ingest raw material, organic and inorganic both, and secrete a substance that Captain Wolfe referred to as a 'slick' in his reports.

"It is the same material that was routed via ducts to all parts of the main construct itself. From what we've been able to determine, this substance is the base building block for the technology used in its construction. The cells of the substances can be manipulated to create anything it would need. It's how the construct was able to repair itself so rapidly."

"I see," Wellington said neutrally. "This substance ... it shows no signs of intelligence when left on its own?"

"None that we're aware of," Allrest said with a frown. "Has there been new information from the colony worlds the construct has been to?"

"That's above your paygrade, Doctor," Wellington said. "Just concentrate on the specific tasks you've been given and try to refrain from wild speculation. The project managers will compile the results so that personal biases don't influence the overall findings on this effort."

"It was just an idle curiosity—"

"We'll be heading back to our ship now," Wellington said, walking past the scientist without so much as a head nod.

"I guess I've been dismissed," Allrest said sullenly.

"The Senator has a lot on his mind," the other man remaining in the room said. "He's been very impressed with your work here."

"Thank you," Allrest said. "I didn't quite catch your name."

"Aston Lynch. Here's my contact information ... I'll be in touch to stay abreast of your results. Good day, Doctor."

Pike hurried out of the room after handing the insufferable scientist a card with a few different methods of contact printed on it. He hastened down the long corridor in time to see Senator Wellington waiting impatiently by a lift car that would take them down to the secure docking arm. They'd been there for less than three hours, hardly worth the expense of the flight. But Wellington had been losing interest with each successive stop. The recovered pieces of the alien ship had been sent to different parts of the Confederacy to maintain objectivity, but Pike was beginning to wonder if their best scientific minds would be able to glean anything of actual use by this method. Pure research was all well and good, but they were going to need practical applications sooner than later. Specifically: How do we kill them.

The pair rode in silence and continued to not speak as they strode through the security checkpoints and back out to the gangway that led up to the ship the dock crew had been gawking at since their arrival: a CIS Broadhead.

"It seems that these geeks are too indoctrinated to see past their own noses," Wellington said, flopping down on one of the plush seats in the lounge area once Pike had sealed the hatch. "No crew onboard, almost entirely constructed of biological materials ... how is it that I'm able to reach the obvious conclusion here and they're all bickering among themselves about if it is or isn't a life form?"

"We are keeping them fairly isolated right now. Once all the information is looked at in its entirety they'll come to some more useful conclusions," Pike said as he initiated the ship's prestart sequence.

"How did the operation on Xi'an go?"

"Like clockwork," Pike said, sitting across from the Senator. "The Prowlers flew in and nuked all four anomalies from orbit."

"
Anomalies,
" Wellington snorted. "These sons of bitches had four ships being constructed on the surface of that planet. Used our own people and cities as building material. We had better get our shit together and fast if we want to have any chance of stopping these bastards. How many planets were wiped out?"

"Four were a complete loss, but Wolfe arrived in time to save Podere from being the fifth," Pike said.

"Who else knows about the two planets that were eliminated before Xi'an?"

"Practically nobody," Pike shrugged. "That level of clearance is only held by a few people. The only reason I know about it is because I'm the one who found them. The Alliance had colonized them in secret and without approval from the Confederacy. It's plausible that they alerted these aliens to our presence."

"Maybe," Wellington grunted. "It won't matter if they did. We can't afford to alienate the Alliance right now and they're a touchy bunch. If we accuse them of causing this it wouldn't surprise me if they withdrew support."

"I'd hope this new threat would set aside the old animosities and the pointless posturing," Pike said.

"Look at you ... spook philosopher," Wellington said sardonically. "I hope you're right, Agent Pike. I hope this new threat doesn't just bring back our worst traits. Speaking of which, how are those idiots Winters and Jessop liking their new accommodations?"

"It didn't seem they were liking them at all when last I checked," Pike said, climbing out of his seat when the computer chimed to let him know they were ready to depart. "Winters especially seemed to be taking to life in a penal colony rather badly."

"Good, good," Wellington said with a self-satisfied smile. "Alright, Mr. Lynch. Let's get this thing moving and get back to Haven. We've got a lot of work to do and very little time to do it in."

"At once, Senator," Pike said, tossing Wellington a mocking salute before walking up to the flight deck and slipping into the pilot's seat.

****

"This is truly remarkable, Dr. Tanaka," Jackson said as he and the diminutive scientist walked along the corridor. "I had no idea this facility even existed."

"Very few people do," Tanaka said. "For obvious reasons. We've moved most of our heavy R&D off Haven and to this facility, mostly over security concerns, but given recent events being hidden may not be such a bad thing."

"No argument there," Jackson said. "Tsuyo Corporation must have started on this facility decades ago. A full shipyard inside an asteroid along with the labs? Amazing."

"I'm glad you appreciate the difficulty of the endeavor," Tanaka said, sounding genuinely pleased. "Tell me, Captain, what do you know of the Tsuyo Corporation ... other than the fact we seem to make everything?" The last line was delivered with a short, startling laugh.

"Not much," Jackson admitted. "I know you're quite secretive and seem to control much more than just the sale of your own tech. I suppose it's only natural that you wield so much influence given the fact you developed the warp drive."

"My predecessors, centuries ago, had tried to coin the phrase 'T-Drive' when it was first implemented," Tanaka said with a smile. "But 'warp drive' was so embedded in the culture that it stuck. I think you'd be surprised at that term's origin. One of the little known truths, however, is that Tsuyo did not develop the
warp
drive, as you say. We simply adapted it."

"Adapted it?"

"Yes. The original Tsuyo prototype was developed by reverse engineering a crashed alien vessel that had been found on Jupiter's moon, Europa, early in the twenty-first century," Tanaka explained. "Tsuyo funded the expedition to harvest the vessel and was thus granted exclusive rights to the technology. We've improved the design over the centuries, but all warp drives can still trace their lineage back to that wrecked craft."

"I had no idea about that," Jackson said, slightly awed. "Do we know whose ship it was?"

"No," Tanaka said. "The original recordings of that mission show that the ship had apparently been abandoned for some time before the robotic probes found it. No remains to speak of, either. We can make certain assumptions about the nature of the beings by examining the ship itself, but we have not encountered that species since we ourselves left the Solar System."

"Not all of us left," Jackson said absently.

"Of course, Captain," Tanaka said with a slight bow. "I meant no disrespect. My point is that even from the very beginning we knew we were not alone. In our arrogance we allowed the myth that the miracle of faster than light travel was a human invention and that we were the masters of all we surveyed. I believe the Universe just gave us a costly lesson in humility."

"That's as elegant a way to say it as I've heard yet," Jackson said. "As much as I've enjoyed the tour and the history lesson, Doctor, I have to believe there's another reason I've been brought to an ultra-secret Tsuyo testing facility."

"We're almost there, Captain," Tanaka said, gesturing up ahead where the corridor changed from alloy bulkheads to a transparent tunnel.

As they crossed the point where Jackson could gaze out of the acrylic tunnel he let out a gasp. Lying below him in a sealed-off, pressurized bay was the hull of a starship, but unlike any he had ever seen. Human ships all seemed to follow generally the same design methodology in that they were long, tubular, and bristling with antennas, weapons, and engines.

This ship, however, was sleek. She was also much wider than she was tall, her lines roughly arrowhead shaped in the front, tapering in at the middle, and flaring out again at the stern. Two enormous main engine nacelles were mounted on pylons that were tucked in much closer to the hull than any other ship he'd seen.

"Impressive, is she not?"

"Beautiful," Jackson breathed. "This is a real starship? Not just a mockup?

"Fully operational, the first of her kind," Tanaka nodded. "We began laying the hull as soon as we were alerted to the threat on the frontier. All of the technology that Tsuyo has been developing here has culminated in her design."