04 Dark Space (38 page)

“Reversion to real space in 30 seconds!” the officer at the helm called out.

An audible countdown began at ten, and Caldin looked up from the captain’s table to watch out the forward viewports as the
Intrepid
reverted to real space. The streaks and swirls of light which accompanied SLS vanished in a flash of light, and then there were stars everywhere. Dead ahead lay a dark planet whorled with radiating, geometric patterns of light. Those patterns stretched from the north pole to the south, spanning the entire visible hemisphere of Avilon. Caldin understood from those lights that she was looking at some type of world-spanning city—an ecumenopolis.

“What are these?” Galan asked, pointing to a cluster of gravidar contacts on the star map which rose above the captain’s table.

Caldin turned to look and saw a dense knot of contacts which were only now appearing in front of the
Intrepid.
They looked like starships. Based on the scale markings beside those contacts, some of them were truly massive—many times the size of the
Valiant
.

“My guess is that’s your fleet,” she said. “Do you know how to make contact with them?”

“I already have,” Galan replied. Caldin wondered how she’d missed that. “They do not know what is going on or what happened to Omnius. They are busy working to override the protocols which disabled their ships, but without Omnius to help them, it will take some time.”

“Why would you give Omnius control over everything in the first place?” Caldin asked.

“Because our human natures cannot be trusted,” Galan replied.

“And Omnius can? Look, he shut you all down! Isn’t that the last thing he should do when there’s a threat to your security?”

“Threats to our security come from within. The best way to prevent a rebellion is to disarm it.”

“Seems like this Omnius has everything figured out; there’s just one problem. He opened the sector up to an attack. Didn’t you say that Sythians were stranded in the gravity field with us? That field was disabled right along with your ships, so where do you think the Sythians are now?”

Galan’s glowing eyes grew big and frightened. “Scan for them!” he ordered.

“We can’t detect cloaked ships,” Caldin replied.

Galan did a double take, and then his upper lip curled in disgust. “
Spackt!
” he spat. “Head for the planet. We must get to the Zenith Tower as quickly as possible.”

“Helm, you heard the man. Full speed ahead!” To Galan, she said, “What is the Zenith Tower?”

“It is where Omnius resides. His temple. It is the tallest tower on the planet. You cannot miss it.” He pointed out the forward viewport to a particularly bright and dense pattern of lights shining into space from the dark side of Avilon. “There. How long will it take for us to reach it?” Galan asked.

Caldin selected the planet on the star map and then queried the ship’s computer. “Half an hour before we hit the upper atmosphere. I’ll launch our fighters while we wait. They’ll reach the planet ahead of us.”

“Is there no way you can get us there faster?”

Caldin turned to him with a speculative look. “I suppose I could send you and some of your men aboard an assault transport.”

“Do so.”

“Comms—tell the Guardians and Renegades to launch. Guardians will go ahead of us to recon the planet and report the situation on the ground. Have the Renegades hang back to escort our transports to the surface—and get our sentinels on those transports! I want three squads of Zephyr assault mechs to support the Avilonians when they get dirt side.”

“I did not give your people permission to set foot on Avilon,” Galan said quietly.

“Do you want our help or not?”

He held her gaze for a long moment before looking away, back out the forward viewports. “They will not fire their weapons unless ordered by one of us to do so, and they will obey us at all times, or they will die. The use of weapons above the Celestial Wall is strictly prohibited.”

“Of course . . .” Caldin replied, wondering what Galan was talking about. “I’m sure Omnius will make an exception to save himself.”

Galan shot her a dark look. “Your scornful attitude will not serve you well here. I suggest you adjust it.”

Caldin gave no reply. If the Avilonians were so strict and so utterly subservient to an artificial intelligence, she wasn’t sure that Avilon would be such a paradise after all. It all depended on just how benevolent their AI really was, and Caldin wasn’t sure she liked the idea of trusting an intelligence which was so vast as to be incomprehensible
.
The smarter you are, the easier it is to take advantage of others. So the question is, how are you taking advantage, Omnius? And if you’re so good, why would anyone want to shut you down?

The obvious answer was that some people in Avilon weren’t happy with the way Omnius was running things. So were
they
the problem, or was Omnius?

That question was infinitely harder to answer.

*   *   *

“All right, Guardians! It’s go time! We have no idea what’s waiting for us out there. It’s our job to find out. Do not engage anything until mission control gives us clearance. This is strictly a recon mission. Is that understood?” Atton scanned the myriad faces in the briefing room with him. There were just seven of them, including Atton himself. They were down a few pilots from the last engagement. So was Renegade Squadron. Right now the Renegades would be sitting in a matching briefing room on the other side of the hangar bay, receiving a different briefing with a different set of mission parameters. “Are there any questions?”

Gina Giord’s hand shot up. “We’re nine pilots. That leaves one of us flying solo.”

“Seven will be joining Five and Six as a trio.”

Gina frowned. “Or you could pair Seven with you and I could fly solo.”

Atton scowled at her. “Are you, or are you not the XO of this squadron, Lieutenant?”

“You tell me, sir,” she said.

With a frown, Atton recalled her insubordinate behavior and her challenge for him to meet her in the ring, which had ultimately landed him in med bay, but he decided not to hold any of that against her. “We all have our personal differences, Lieutenant, but as soon as we climb into those cockpits it’s not personal anymore. We’re fighting for the survival of the human race, so all those petty differences mean krak—and they’re the krak that will get you killed. We don’t need any more ghosts in this squadron. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Gina replied.

“No one is flying solo out there. Are there any other questions, something related to the mission perha—”

The P.A. system crackled to life, interrupting him before he could finish. “Guardians, you are cleared to launch. Proceed to the hangar bay with all possible speed.”

Atton clapped his hands together. “You heard ‘em. Ruh-kah!” With that, he turned and ran down the corridor leading away from the briefing room. He heard booted feet pounding down the corridor after him. As soon as he reached the double doors at the end, he waved his wrist over the scanner, and they parted with a
swish
. Beyond the doors, Nova Fighters sat in gleaming rows on the hangar deck. Atton ran down those rows, heading for the fighter nearest to the pair of glowing red launch tubes at the far end of the hangar. To his right lay the yawning opening of the hangar bay—stars and space tinted liquid blue by the
Intrepid’s
static shields.

As soon as Atton reached his Nova, he leapt up onto the wing and swiped his wrist over the control panel beside the cockpit. The transpiranium canopy rose with a hiss of pneumatics, and he slipped inside. He slapped the button to close the canopy before it had even finished opening, and then he hit the fighter’s ignition switch. The Nova’s reactor whirred to life and the ship began to hum and vibrate all around him. Glowing holo displays and buttons came to life and his fighter’s AI greeted him—“Welcome back, Commander.”

“Sara, run a quick preflight and set IMS to 95%,” Atton said as he reached behind his flight chair for his helmet. He pulled it on and sealed the clasps at his neck. A green icon on the helmet’s HUD appeared in his periphery, indicating a good seal, although his suit would only pressurize in the event that the cockpit depressurized.

“All systems green,” Sara said.

“Good.” Atton touched a key on his comm board and selected the channel reserved for his wing pair. “Ready, Tuner?” he asked, using Gina’s call sign.

“Punch it.”

Atton nodded. Speaking to his AI, he said, “Initiate the launch sequence.”

“Initiating . . .”

The Nova rose swiftly off the deck and swiveled in place. As soon as it turned to face the pair of glowing red portals in the back of the hangar, the fighter’s thrusters roared, and Atton was pinned to his seat. The launch tubes grew rapidly larger, still somehow seeming too small for his fighter. Atton winced as the Nova rocketed inside the rightmost of the two. Bright rings of light raced by the cockpit, faster and faster until just a split second later he was catapulted into the starry blackness of space.

A quick look at the grid showed Gina roaring out right behind him. The Guardians came out in a steady stream, one after another, and then the Renegades began streaming out the launch tube beside theirs.

Atton stomped on the left rudder pedal to bring his fighter around in a tight arc which would set him on the same path as the
Intrepid
. The blinding orange glow of the cruiser’s engines hove into view, and Atton grinned. It was good to be back in the cockpit. He was curious to find out what had the Avilonians so scared, but so far the details were need to know. All Atton and the other pilots really
needed
to know was that the Avilonian fleet had been remotely disabled, and now they were heading into a potentially hostile environment with an unknown threat. The threat was described as
probably local
but Atton wasn’t convinced. Maybe the Sythians had found Avilon already?

That wasn’t a happy thought.

“Form up, Guardians,” Atton said as soon as everyone had launched. “It’s time to see what has these people so spooked.”

*   *   *

High Lord Shondar gawked at the pitiful number of ships defending the Avilonians’ world. “That is it?” he warbled aloud. “This is no fleet.” There were at most fifty capital ships in the immediate area, and although many of them were giant warships, Shondar’s own fleet of over 100 capital-class vessels was arguably much stronger. “Have the
drivers
launch our warships,” he commanded. “They are to remain cloaked until they surround the enemy fleet. Once they are in position they are to await my orders.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Meanwhile, Shondar sent a telepathic update to Lord Kaon in Dark Space. The last time Kaon had heard from him there had been bad news. The
Gasha
and her hundred plus warships had been mysteriously stranded in the middle of a strong gravity field. Now Shondar’s news was all good. They were free, and they had reached Avilon. Even better still—the Avilonians did not appear to be as strong as initially reported. Kaon responded to that news with eagerness and relief. He also gave Shondar an update. The rest of the lords had arrived in Dark Space, and now their ships were brimming with human slaves. It would not be long before Kaon came to join Shondar in the glory of their final conquest.

Shondar finished speaking with Kaon and settled back in his command chair to watch the battle unfold. He called up live footage from the bridge decks of the cruisers which were closest to the enemy fleet, and then he magnified that view so he could see the enemy ships with his own eyes. Unlike most human warships that Shondar had seen, which were radiant with bright lights, these were dark. Not even a single viewport shone with light. Absent even were the glowing blue maws of hangar bays. If these ships had hangars, they didn’t shield the openings.

Shondar bared his teeth and his brow wrinkled in confusion.
Is the enemy already dead?
he wondered. “What do sensors say of our enemy?”

“No radiation of any kind. They are dark, My Lord.”

“Without power?”

“Or shielded with a cloak to prevent us detecting them.”

“Then why not shield themselves from the visible spectrum? No, that is not it.”

“My Lord! There is movement . . .”

“I see it,” Shondar replied, watching the map as a stream of small contacts appeared.

“These are a known type—Nova Fighters. They are not Avilonian . . .”

“No, they are not.”

“Then . . . ? Are we in the wrong place?”

“The other ship types are not known to us, therefore, it is likely that these other humans are visiting,” the operator at the sensor control station replied.

“Interesting. Have a wing of our fighters intercept this new enemy.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Shondar watched his fleet surround the Avilonians, washing over them like a tidal wave. The Avilonian ships made no move to escape, nor did they show any signs of life. Shondar didn’t expect them to react—his fleet was cloaked and undetectable. When the enemy was completely surrounded, and all 1468 Shell Fighters had deployed in vast, buzzing clouds, Shondar bared his teeth once more. “De-cloak and engage the enemy. Let us kill as many of these
shakars
as we can!”

Chapter 25

“L
et’s do a fly by on our way to the planet,” Atton said as he guided his fighter toward the densest cluster of disabled Avilonian ships. “Line Abreast formation. We’re going to fly over top.”

“Roger that,” Guardian Three commed back.

Click. Click,
came the affirmative responses from two other pilots.

“I’ve got just 57 warships on the grid . . .” Guardian Five—
Razor—
said. “Anyone else confirm that? Seems like too few for a sector supposedly populated by trillions.”

“The rest might be out of sensor range,” Atton replied, “But even if that’s the extent of their home fleet, some of those cruisers are over ten klicks long. I’d say what they lack in numbers they make up in other ways.”