Star Viking (Extinction Wars Book 3) (30 page)

Visconti looked away. “I cannot see how,” he said. “Orange, Yellow and Green have joined forces. Several outlawed Tamikas have added their paltry number of vessels to the rebel fleet. The Emperor must have two to three times our fighting craft.”

This was highly interesting news. “Why are the fleets headed to Earth exactly?” I asked.

“Because of the Forerunner object,” he said. “Surely you realize it is the most venerated in the league, perhaps in the Orion Arm.”

This was news. Why hadn’t Sant told me? Frowning, I realized the Emperor had let that slip when we’d talked in the Sanakaht system. Felix Rex Logos had once served the Lokhar Fifth Legion as its commander. Where would a prince-to-be-emperor serve? In the most illustrious post, of course. Our artifact near Ceres was critical, drawing the Lokhars to us. It would appear that a victory in the solar system had even greater importance for the tigers than I’d realized.

“You need the Starkien ships to help you even the odds,” I said.

“There is merit to your words. But you already offered them a chance to regain honor. Just like a Starkien, Baba Gobo refused.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” I said. “Still, if they had all their vessels in once place, maybe it would give them and you a fighting chance. I expect Baba Gobo thought this was a lost cause. It’s not if you rebels have enough warships.”

With a huge hand, Visconti picked up his tiny porcelain cup. The two looked incongruous together. He sipped and lowered the cup to his lap, sitting thoughtfully for a long time. Twice, he gave me sharp glances.

The baron was clearly working something out in his mind. I decided silence was my friend, as I wanted that something to mature.

“You are too hopeful,” Visconti said at last. “That means you know something more. I believe you have a secret.”

“It’s true, I do,” I admitted.

“Can you tell me your secret?”

“Sorry. I would be unwise to let you know.”

Visconti scowled. “Are you suggesting your secret would bring harm to the Lokhars?”

“Harm to Purple Tamika,” I said. “My secret would most certainly strengthen Orange Tamika.”

“Then you must tell me.”

“I’m afraid not,” I said.

“What if I told you I will not allow you to leave this tent unless you tell me?”

I wanted to tell him, “Then I’ll have to kill you.” This time, however, I decided on tact. “Where would be the honor in that?” I asked. “We’re drinking task together in friendship. Would you bring dishonor to your House?”

“Not willingly,” he admitted.

“Then, I am safe talking to you.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “You are safe—for the moment.”

“Sant should seek out the Starkiens,” I said. “He should ask for their aid.”

“No,” Visconti said gravely. “In the past, Starkiens hired out to the Jelk Corporation. Starkiens lack honor. They are untrustworthy as allies.”

“That was my point a few minutes ago. I once worked for the Jelk Corporation and rebelled. Why did I work for them originally? In order to save my people from extinction. The Starkiens are a dwindling race. Now, they seek to save their race.”

“They are unworthy of saving,” Visconti said flatly.

“To you, maybe, but not to them. They seek survival. Use that for Orange Tamika’s good.”

“What will a few more warships matter anyway?” Visconti asked with a shrug.

“Perhaps they’re the edge Orange Tamika needs for victory. Or would you prefer to let your bigotry doom your House to death? Will you let Purple Tamika destroy you and your kind?”

“You killed Princess Nee on an Orange Tamika dreadnought,” Visconti said. “The Emperor wants revenge against you. Maybe I could buy my Tamika’s survival by handing you over to him.”

“Maybe,” I said, locking stares with the tiger.

After a second, Visconti shook his head. “I will not dishonor my House in such a manner. You went to the portal planet and won existence for our universe. I owe you a debt of gratitude. In doing as you did, you heaped praise and glory onto Orange Tamika.”

“The Orange should rule the Lokhars,” I said.

“Yes.”

“To do so, you must defeat the Emperor’s armada.”

Visconti raised his cup, sipping once more. He inhaled, expanding his chest. “I have decided,” he said. “You must return to Earth as quickly as possible. If you wish to contact the Starkiens, that is your task, not mine or any other Lokhar’s. To help you in your secret quest, I will give you my fastest warship. In exchange, I will accept your patrol boat.”

“My boat is already fast,” I said.

Visconti shook his head. “Not nearly as fast as the
Quarrel
. It is our latest advancement, able to reach twice the velocity as your craft. Besides, your boat is in a dockyard. I know the Ilk. They will delay repairs and force you to pay more until they have drained you of exchange units. You would be wise to accept my offer, Commander.”

Did he know what the
Achilles
held? Did he suspect? Baron Visconti was one big tiger. He also seemed sharp. Did I dare trust him? How did he know so much about our patrol boat? It would be a risk unloading and then reloading the relics from Purple Tamika’s Hall of Honor. Yet, I didn’t see the utility of getting back to Earth a week after humanity had perished.

“Yes,” I said. “I accept your offer.”

The exchange went flawlessly. A day later, we left the Sargol star system, accelerating toward the jump gate.

Three days into the journey, a tap came at the closed hatch to my quarters.

It was a Spartan chamber with a cot, desk and view screen. Slapping a switch, I saw N7 standing at the portal. He looked uneasy.

“May I speak with you, Commander?” he asked.

“Come in,” I said.

I sat on the cot. N7 leaned against the desk. The android refused my offer of a drink.

“Why are you looking so confused?” I asked.

“You sense it?”

“Would I ask you if I didn’t?”

“Ah, an interesting point,” N7 said. He stiffened against the desk, becoming formal. “Commander, I have been uneasy for several days. At first, I could not fathom the reason. Finally, I ran a probability analysis.”

“An analysis regarding what?” I asked.

“That is an astute question. At first, I made it a broad analysis as I attempted to pinpoint my unease. I could not accept that I had intuition or an instinct as you humans perceive. Those are illogical concepts filled with emotion. I still struggle with those.”

I waited, saying nothing. I’d seldom seen N7 so agitated.

“After six hours of inquiry, my analysis finally reached a conclusion. Our meeting with Baron Visconti was too coincidental for it to have occurred at random.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Several times before the meeting you spoke of the need to reach Earth faster than our craft could achieve. What did Baron Visconti offer us? Just what we needed: a faster ship.”

“You have a point to this?” I said.

“After the meeting, you said it was odd that the baron knew so much about the
Achilles
. I pondered your statement and ran another analysis. It seems clear that the baron was privy to the facts before our encounter.”

“Are you saying the baron played us?”

N7 cocked his head as if puzzled. “Ah, I see. You are asking if he maneuvered us into doing what he wished us to do.”

“Yes, only I said it in a pithier way.”

“Please, Commander, let me continue with my analysis report.”

“Sure,” I said.

“Probability factors led me to the conclusion that Baron Visconti wanted to meet with you in order to give you his speedster. Why would this be? Because he or his superiors wanted you on Earth sooner rather than later.”

I said nothing.

“I believe the baron wishes you to contact the Starkiens,” N7 said. “Yet, even after reaching this conclusion, I was troubled. I allowed the analysis to probe deeper. Three hours later, I reached a new and startling conclusion.”

“Yeah?”

“Doctor Sant watched our proceedings with Visconti,” N7 said.

“What?” I asked. “You can’t possibly know that.”

“I can and do,” N7 said. “During the meeting, I detected a hint of a familiar odor. Only after these labored analyses did I allow my brain core to match the scents. It was that of Doctor Sant. I also saw the claw-patch the doctor usually wears on his left sleeve. It is conceivable the doctor removed it and forgot to take it before we entered the inner tent.”

“So…you’re saying Sant was hiding on Rill 7 and through Baron Visconti he maneuvered us into heading back to Earth faster?”

“Exactly,” N7 said.

“Why?”

“In order to aid Orange Tamika in the coming battle with the Emperor,” the android said.

“That seems like a mighty big stretch,” I said.

“No. Doctor Sant has attempted a risky political tactic, rebellion against the governing authority. He has allies, as Baron Visconti related. I believe Doctor Sant wants you to convince Baba Gobo to join the rebellion so Orange Tamika has a greater chance for success.”

“That’s not how I meant a
big stretch
,” I said. “How could Sant possibly know the
Achilles
would come to Rill 7?”

“I asked myself a similar question,” N7 said. “The answer lies with the Forerunner artifacts. During our stay with Prince Venturi aboard the dreadnought, we learned the Lokhars have an oracle.”

“I remember,” I said.

“Can Forerunner artifacts foretell the future?” N7 asked. “I do not believe so. Yet we have learned that Forerunner objects can communicate with each other. Perhaps as interesting, they are able to scan remarkable distances. Could the artifacts inform each other on particular occurrences? With enough information and computational ability, the artifacts could make astute guesses on future events. That information might fool lesser beings. The Lokhars would take the data as an oracle.”

I frowned as I followed his logic. “So…you’re telling me a Forerunner object told Sant about us?”

“It is a possibility,” N7 said.

“That would mean the artifacts are interested in what happens among us.”

“That, too, is possible.”

“I’m not sure I like that,” I said.

“It does add a new layer of complexity to our situation,” N7 said.

“Why would Holgotha have gone to the portal planet eight years ago? Did the artifact have a greater ulterior motive than it has already admitted to us?”

“I give that a high probability,” N7 said.

That got me thinking. Just how meddlesome were the artifacts? Why had Holgotha agreed to transfer us to Sanakaht but no more?

“I’m glad you ran your analyses,” I said. “You did good, N7.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

“But about Baba Gobo joining us, the baboon already said no.”

“You have added new factors, Commander: the articles of Purple Tamika honor, for one. The approaching rebel fleet is another element. Perhaps those new additions will sway the Starkiens.”

“I doubt it.”

“My probability analysis reached a similar conclusion. Yet I cannot fathom any other reason as to why Doctor Sant gave us the speedster.”

“Given that you’re right about all this,” I said.

“Yes,” N7 said.

I stood up and began to pace. “Well,” I said. “Talk is cheap, and whiskey costs money.”

“Commander?” asked N7.

“The proof will be in the reality once we reach home. Soon, one way or another, we’ll have to test our theories on the field of battle.”

***

Our speedster, the
Quarrel
, proved itself many times over. The vessel was fast, had an extraordinary amount of anti-gravity plates and lacked much in the way of shields, armored hull or weapons. This thing was meant to run fast, run long and outmaneuver enemies. It wasn’t meant to fight in any but the lightest engagement. That allowed us to zip through star systems. Time after time, we acted like a rabbit darting into its burrow, escaping any perusing vessels by beating them to the next jump gate.

In time, we left Jade League territory and raced through no-man’s land toward the solar system. Then our luck ran out in the Wolf 359 star system, which was in the Leo Constellation. The star was a cool red dwarf, one of the faintest known. The star’s photosphere was a mere 2800 K. Wolf 359 also happened to be a flare star, throwing off sudden bursts of X-rays and gamma ray radiation. In a straight line, the red dwarf was only 7.8 light-years from Earth. We were almost home.

After shaking off the symptoms of jump, we accelerated toward the next gate. The alien ships didn’t begin appearing from behind the various planets until we were four hundred thousand kilometers from the entrance gate.

“Commander,” Ella said. “You’re not going to believe this.”

The bridge was small and cramped, with barely enough room for Ella, our present pilot, N7, Zoe, Rollo at weapons and me in the center. I sat above them and could stare down at their panels.

“Look,” Ella said. She typed on a holopad, the keys visible in the air. Her effort produced another holoimage.

The red dwarf system has two inner planets and five outer gas giants. From every world, ships began to swing around into view. The smallest and fastest shark-shaped vessels raced for the two jump gates: the one behind us and the one we aimed at.

“Starkiens,” I said.

“Correction,” Ella said, “hidden Starkiens.”

I nodded. Their appearance in these numbers and precision meant they had been hiding before we appeared. That would indicate one of two possibilities. Either they could see into another star system many light-years away or these ships had kept hidden for days and more likely weeks. Had they been expecting us?

I didn’t like the implications.

“Incoming message, Commander,” Ella said.

“Go ahead,” I said.

The holoimage shimmered as the star system disappeared. I found myself staring into Baba Gobo’s ugly face.

“I can’t believe it,” Rollo said.

“Who did you expect?” I asked.

“What?” Rollo said.

I pointed at the waiting holoimage of Baba Gobo.

Rollo looked up at it. “Oh. No. I wasn’t talking about him. I mean the number of Starkien ships.”

“How many are you counting?” I asked.

“One thousand, five hundred and twenty-three,” Rollo said.

My gut tightened. “I don’t want you to count star fighters,” I said.

“I’m not,” Rollo said. “The number includes anything above a frigate, nothing smaller.”

My stomach pain increased. I scowled down at Rollo. “Did Baba Gobo call all his Starkiens together?”

“Foreign vessel,” Baba Gobo said, finally deciding to speak. “You have entered Starkien space. I demand that you cease acceleration and begin braking procedures. You must comply at once, or we will destroy you.”

I thought about it for all of two seconds. With over fifteen hundred starships, there was no way I could outrun every missile and beam.

“I’m going to talk to him,” I told Ella.

“I thought you might,” she said.

Clearing my throat, I sat up. “Baba Gobo,” I said, “this is Commander Creed speaking. Please explain your presence here.”

I waited for the transmission to reach him. It didn’t take long. That would indicate the Starkien leader was in one of the nearest warships.

“Commander Creed,” the baboon said. “This is a highly pleasurable experience. It appears the Orange Tamika doctor is a Lokhar of his word after all.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked warily.

“He did not inform you?” Baba Gobo asked.

“Inform me of
what
?”

“We must talk in private, which means in person,” he said.

“You can forget about that,” I said. “If you remember, I came to your flagship once before. I don’t plan on doing it again.”

“If I wish,” he said, snapping his fingers, “I can destroy your vessel like that.”

“If you do, you have no chance of gaining a new lease on life for your dying race.”

“How can you say dying?” the baboon asked. “Do you see the number of warships I possess?”

“Once your race had millions of vessels,” I said. “Now you’re down to just this few. Your species lost out because you played the wanderers too long. I have a plan, though. It will save the Starkiens, Orange Tamika and humanity.”

“Interesting,” Baba Gobo said. “Seer Sant said this would be so.”

“When did he tell you this?”

“Not him in person, but Seer Sant’s emissary, Baron Visconti.”

I found myself blinking at the baboon. I didn’t understand what was going on.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Meet with me,” he said.

“I’m meeting with you now.”

Scratching his nose, Baba Gobo seemed to consider that. Finally, he said, “Very well. Time is critical. We shall proceed. First, you must know that the Emperor’s armada approaches Earth. Second, I will give you the broadest outline as to why I am here.

“After you left us in Epsilon Indi, I began to consider your words. You have the gift of persuasive speech, Commander. Few fighting men like you possess the ability. We are dying out; you are correct is saying that. Many years ago now, my nephew Naga Gobo went to the Jelk Corporation in order to prolong his fleet’s existence. Instead, he brought about its destruction. My elders discussed this with me. We agreed that perhaps it was time to die with honor.

“I know,” Baba Gobo said, holding up his slender fingers. “You and the Lokhars do not believe in Starkien honor. Yet, Seer Sant does. But I leap ahead of the tale. The elders suggested that perhaps we should return to our old ways. You called it
hit and run
. In the oldest days, we lived as open predators. That brought about the beginning of the Jade League.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I thought it was to stop the Jelk.”

“That came later,” Baba Gobo said. “In the early years, the others feared us. We battled for many centuries, winning often but losing numbers. Then we made a critical error. Many elders have come to believe that the Forerunner artifacts had an agenda. The ancient machines aided the league with intelligence.”