Dangerous Evolution (26 page)

“Agreed,” I said tiredly. “Well, by my calculations, we’ll be there
in about an hour and all will be revealed. Good or bad.” I leaned back again,
uncomfortable in the too large seat. “Captain, now that you know the full situation,
I’m going to bring this ships weapons back online. I don’t want you to be
alarmed.”

“Oh I’m alarmed, Commander, but no longer by that particular Sentient
ship. Tell me truthfully, would you really have had me killed if I didn’t
follow your orders?”

“What do you think, Captain?”

“I think I’ll start wearing body armor on the bridge,”
he
laughed.

“Oh…one more thing, Captain Prescott, the Sentients are carrying
an inducement—a very destructive one—to force their own people back in line if it
becomes necessary. If I tell you to retreat, do it; make best speed in the
opposite direction and don’t look back.” I lowered my voice and looked him in
the eye. “And, Captain…take as many of our ships as you can with you.”

He looked at me curiously, and then his mouth opened slightly as
he realized the significance of my comment.
“I will remember that, Commander.
Good luck.”

“To us all,” I replied.

*****

As soon as I stepped back into the Central Hub I could tell that the
news wasn’t good. I saw our joint formation, alone in the center of the
tactical display, with hundreds of small blips beginning to crowd in from the
perimeter. It looked as if we were headed into some kind of massive storm, and
in a very real sense, we were.

“By the disposition of Captain Prescott’s ships I take it you had
a productive conversation,” Thov said.

I gave the captain a sardonic look. “I’m sure you know every nuance
of our discussion, Captain Thov. Hell, you’ve probably already had it evaluated
for potential intelligence information.”

It looked down at its command console. “Actually, Commander, the initial
report is just coming in now. Hmmm…so Sector can’t communicate either. That is
a major complication; we will have to get in close to bring this all under
control.”

Val, Stinson, and Sa, were still in the room, but Del was nowhere
in sight. “Where is the ambassador?” I asked.

“Del is in hangar bay 12, Commander Malik, readying ‘Plan B’ I
think it was called. I believe the ambassador is almost finished.”

Good. Del convinced Captain Thov to give us the stealth vessel.

By now, the Mass Nullifier was probably already on board, and
launch preparations well underway. But it gave me little comfort to know that our
plan to rip apart a large section of space—killing thousands of living beings—was
moving ahead with such efficiency.

“Where are we exactly?” I asked no one in particular. It suddenly
occurred to me that I didn’t even know where the fleets were converging.

“The Vrent System,” answered one of the hub’s personnel—presumably
the pilot or navigator.

Vrent?
That was just inside Sentient controlled space—very close to
Evan’s Moon actually. It was barely on this side of The Verge, and far from
most human colonies; as good a place as any to make a stand.

We have to stop this
, I thought. If the Sentients
destroyed our fleet here, they would be able to move throughout human
controlled space with impunity; it would be a slaughter.
Until the Sentients
themselves died off from Rroske’s virus, then it would become an empty and
peaceful galaxy, free from both of our species.

All because of an unquenchable thirst for vengeance—revenge for a
crime that never even occurred—culminating in the total elimination of all
sentient life in the galaxy. If Lesa’s god did exist, he had one hell of a
sense of humor.

A pulsing alarm caught my attention, pulling it away from the gloomy
chain of thought. I heard one of the Sentient crewman speaking. “…are breaking
through the interference, Captain. I’m routing the visual feeds to your
viewer.”

“Overlay all tactical information on the display,” Thov snapped. “I
want individual identification, speed, and combat condition of every ship you’re
able to scan.” The captain pointed at another crewmember. “Tet, try to hail our
ships. If you get through, transmit the data packet from my queue labeled Viral
Cure.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As the detailed tactical information appeared, the view screen
exploded with color. Hundreds of ships dancing around each other as they
maneuvered to engage or evade—slicing through space at speeds determined by
purpose or construct. Small fast-attack craft made strafing runs against the
hulls of opposing capital ships, while the larger craft pounded away at each
other with explosive projectiles and beam weapons. The multicolored lights of plasma
and laser weapons crisscrossed the sky, leaving burnt metal, catastrophic
decompressions, and immolated flesh in their wake.

Death was everywhere.

The strategic display flagged human ships as red and the Sentients
as blue, and there were far too many blue outlines for my comfort. Watching the
scene unfold, I noted that every few seconds a blue shape would appear—fire off
a salvo—and then vanish from the screen again.
Stealth ships.
From what I
could tell, based solely on when and where they popped up, there were only a
few of them, but they were inflicting a tremendous amount of damage, grossly disproportionate
to their numbers.

Abruptly, a large flash dominated the screen, engulfing at least
twelve ships. All of them, Sentient and human, vanished. Other nearby craft
scattered away from the expanding debris field.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Thov replied, reading scrolling Sentient
text as it moved across the bottom of the screen, “It appears that one of your
larger ships took a hit to its weapons section and a cascade explosion
occurred.”

The realization hit hard that I’d just watched thousands die. “Have
you heard from any of your captains yet?” I asked testily.

“I’m getting a lot of status inquiries from our ships, but none of
them are acknowledging my request to stand down. The prevailing theory is that
I’ve been captured by the human forces surrounding the
Na’ardeen
. Thov
tore its attention away from the display to look at me. “They think I’m relaying
false information under duress, Commander.”

I shook my head in disgust and fought back the urge to yell. “Over
the past few days, I’ve spent far too much time convincing people that we are
the good guys—trying to do the right thing. This shit is getting old.”

“Indeed,” Thov said, then turned back to watch the viewer where
the battle raged on.

The communications officer spoke up loudly, “Captain Prescott
wishes to speak with the commander.”

What now?
I thought.

“Put him on speaker please,” I said. Surprisingly, the Sentient
did so without first checking with Thov.

“Commander Malik. I have made contact with our fleet and relayed
your information, along with my own assessment—Rroske’s confession proved most
convincing.”
He paused, then continued in a hushed tone,
“Commander, is
this line secure?”

“No, Captain. But at this point, there are few secrets left worth
keeping. In fact, it might be better to get everything out in the open to
prevent any further misunderstandings. What’s the situation?”

“This is OPERATIONAL information, Commander,”
Prescott said emphatically.

“Nonetheless, Captain, go ahead, on
my
authority.”

“A fat lot of good that will do me if you don’t survive, Commander…
But very well, the fleet captains have agreed that this fight is a mistake, but
we can’t withdraw while the Sentients are…”

He stopped speaking, and except for a small amount of static
leeching through the connection, silence filled the room.

“The Sentients are
what
, Captain?” I prodded.

“I don’t know what you can see from that vessel, Commander Malik,
but we can’t find or stop those god damned cloaked ships. We are seriously outnumbered,
especially now that the Helios and her support group just exploded.”
He
paused again before continuing,
“Frankly speaking, Commander, the Sentients
are winning this battle.”

I glanced over at the tactical display and saw a few more red
outlines fade away—their shapes leaving a dull afterglow before vanishing
completely. Prescott was right; we
were
losing, but not just the battle.
The whole damn war ended here. And we couldn’t even run; they would cut us to
pieces. The Sentients were the key now—they had to stand down.

Or be destroyed.  

“Captain Thov,” I started, “you must make them…”

“Captain,” one of the Sentient crew interrupted, “Three Lant class
warships and their escorts have left the main battle and are headed this way.”

They were bringing the fight to us, I realized. Apparently not
content to wait the last few minutes it would take for us to reach the battle.
It was just as well, god knows what would have happened when we hit that fracas
as a mixed formation. The way things had gone so far—both sides would probably
attack us. At least now we could see what was coming and arrange ourselves
accordingly. I watched the Sentient attack group move away from the main
engagement, and saw a weakness develop when the rest of their fleet redeployed.

I called out over the open channel, still connected to the
Invincible
.
“Captain Prescott, do you see what I see?”

“If you mean the three capital ships bearing down on us, then
yes.”
He barked out a few hurried orders to his bridge officers and
then said,
“Let me look at this. Ahhhh…they’ve opened a hole in their
defenses.”

Thov looked at its display and then over at me; I could tell it saw
the weakness as well. The Sentients weren’t arrayed for an offensive, confinement
strategy—one that would contain the enemy while whittling them down. They were
engaged in a full-on, highly aggressive attack. Their anger was making them
careless. The Sentients knew that we were making a stand here and didn’t
anticipate having to chase or corral us. They were convinced that we were
desperate—that we weren’t going anywhere.

But they were wrong.

“Captain Prescott, please tell our captains to exploit that
opening and make an immediate strategic withdrawal.” I consciously invoked the
long-used, face saving euphemism for
running like hell
, and listened as
he relayed the order through to his communications officer.

“We should also devise a defense for this position,”
Prescott
said, turning his attention back to me,
“The advancing forces will be in weapon’s
range in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Captain Thov,” I tried one last time, “Anything?”

Its face told me no—even before the words came out. “No, Commander…they
refuse to listen.”

“I understand; you’ve done everything you can.” I took a deep
breath and carefully selected my next words, “I don’t presume to command you or
this ship, Captain Thov, but
please
coordinate a defensive strategy with
Captain Prescott’s group. This will be the first joint Sentient-Sector combat
operation; let’s make it a good one.”

“I’m sure it will be an effective collaboration, Commander. Plan
B?”

“Plan B,” I confirmed.

I stuck my hand out, and Thov considered it a moment before reaching
out to shake it.

“Good luck, Captain,” I said.

“And to you, Commander.”

We’d been left with no choice; we would have to use the Mass
Nullifier to get their attention, and then see how seriously they took the
situation. The possibility of total destruction
had
to bring them to the
bargaining table. I hoped so anyway. I couldn’t imagine actually using such a
weapon.

I took one last look at the tactical display and saw the bulk of our
ships racing toward the opening. The Sentients were slow to pick up on what was
happening, but some of their larger ships figured it out and were starting to
arrange themselves for pursuit. The fleet might get out, I realized, but the Sentients
would be right on their heels. Before turning away I saw another one of our ships
wink out of existence, a blue dot representing a nearby stealth vessel vanished
soon after.

God damnit! Enough!

I walked across the room to speak with Stinson; Val and Sa were at
his side watching the events unfold.

“So you are really going?” he asked.

“You know I have to, Jeff. If things get…interesting for me out
there,” I gestured at Val, “get her back home—no matter what. It’s important. If
it all goes to shit, escape. On this ship if you can, on Prescott’s if you have
to, but quit the fight and get the hell out. She was always the mission; make
sure she gets home.”

“I will,” he said somberly. “I promise.”

“Why?” Val asked. “Why do
you
have to go? Ambassador Del
doesn’t need your help. Certainly one madman is enough for this ridiculous
plan.” There was anger in her voice, but I could tell it was directed at the
situation, not me. I could hear the underlying concern in every word.