Odyssey One 5: Warrior King (19 page)

“In my defense, ma’am, they fired first.”

Gracen sighed. “That would make me feel belter, Commodore, if it weren’t for the fact that you appear capable of driving almost
everyone
you’ve ever
met
to firing on you first.”

Eric shot her a dry look, but figured there wasn’t much he could safely say there.

“I’m not tying your hands, Commodore. Do what you feel is necessary. Just keep in mind that we’re a little strapped for resources at the moment. Political needs aside, we can’t afford an extended war right now.”

“I understand, Admiral,” Eric said, “but if the Imperials are the ones who launched the Drasin assault . . .”

“Then we can’t afford
not
to ensure they never get anywhere near our solar system again, Commodore,” Gracen said firmly. “Just don’t open multiple fronts in a war we haven’t even really started fighting yet.”

Eric nodded. “Understood, Admiral.”

“Now,” Gracen shifted her tone, “let’s discuss what you let them do to my ship.”

“Your ship, ma’am?” Eric asked, amused.

“Damn right, my ship,” Gracen said. “I named her. The Warrior King is my baby, Commodore, and I’ll thank you not to let random fools cut slices off her hull.”

Eric laughed, shaking his head. “We’re a combat ship, Admiral. Lasers happen.”

“Just don’t let them happen to my ship, is all I’m saying.”

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

Gracen grew more serious after that. “I suppose you’d best show me those prisoners now.”

►►►

► The cells were still packed. Eric hadn’t been sure what to do with the men after arriving in Ranquil. Technically, they were Alliance prisoners, but his primary loyalty was to Earth and the Confederation, so he couldn’t just off-load them with Admiral Tanner and hope for the best.

“DNA analysis?” Gracen asked as she looked over the stoic men in the cells beyond the two-way glass. She’d seen men just like them in times past, and rarely had cause to want to see more of them.

“Priminae, junk DNA and all,” Eric confirmed. “Or perhaps the Priminae are actually Imperial, depending on how you look at it.”

“Very interesting,” Gracen whispered.

Her office was the first to have the odd DNA mismatch between the Priminae and Terran human stock revealed, information that still wasn’t widely known in the world at large. For all intents and purposes, Terrans and Priminae were human, so there was no point clouding the issue with technical data that even the experts were at a loss to fully explain.

“There is a significant split in their genetic line, however,” Eric added. “We’ve been mapping that over the past week.”

“Split?”

“Fits with the Priminae history, as we’ve been told. They’ve been separate cultures long enough for genetic drift to become measureable. Still clearly of the same stock, unlike Terran humans, but diverging steadily.”

“Ah.” She nodded.

Gracen had been forced to take several advanced courses in genetics just to understand what had been coming across her desk the past couple years, and thus she more fully grasped the implications of the Priminae-Imperial link than Eric did.

“At least the Priminae aren’t lying to us,” she said. “That does confirm their story.”

“As far as they know. I’m certain they’ve been honest,” Eric said neutrally.

“As far as they know?” Gracen asked, one eyebrow rising.

“That’s a
long
chunk of history, ma’am, and I don’t think I trust their records,” Eric declared. “The people today are honest, but I’m not so sure about their ancestors. I had a long talk with Admiral Tanner about just that, and even he admits that we’re in mythic territory here.”

Gracen considered his statement for a brief moment, deciding that it was a fair point. Whitewashing history was a relatively easy feat. Hell, a lot of the time you didn’t even
need
to do so. People naturally ignored anything uncomfortable and pretended that only the good happened. Centuries had passed before anyone was willing to admit that Columbus was anything less than a heroic explorer, yet, after World War II, only a few years had gone by before the first denial of the Holocaust was uttered.

A great Machiavellian schemer wasn’t necessary to whitewash history. People did that all by themselves, usually while whining incessantly about how one had to learn from history or be forced to repeat it.

“Point,” she conceded aloud. “What do you want to do with the prisoners?”

“Could send them back to Earth,” Eric offered.

She winced. “Not in the current political climate. Too many people, politicians and citizens alike, who want blood for blood. Can’t guarantee their safety on Earth, and I’d rather not set precedent that
will
come back and bite us.”

“Roger that,” Eric sighed. “Well, we have a small base on Ranquil. That’s probably our best option for the moment.”

Grace nodded. “I’ll stop by the planet and see to it, and make sure that they operate the base under the Geneva conventions. The last thing we need is another . . . well, you know.”

“Agreed, ma’am. I remember.”

He would,
Gracen thought. “We’ll run this by the books for as long as I can keep the civilians out of it. We’re professionals, Captain. We don’t do revenge.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll see to the situation on Ranquil,” Gracen said. “You need to get my ship back out in the black and find out what Passer and the
Auto
discovered. Then take your new squadron and see if you can locate another Imperial ship and
make
them talk to you. I’m serious, Commodore. I don’t care if you have to board one of their ships and chat with her commander at gunpoint.
Talk
to them.”

Eric laughed, a little weakly. “I’ll do my best.”

“Failing that, I’ll settle for rock-solid evidence that they sent the Drasin our way,” she said. “If they don’t want to talk then . . . we make them
scream
.”

“I believe we’re on the same page, ma’am.”

“Good, and good luck, Commodore,” she said, extending a hand.

He shook it. “Thank you, Admiral.”

►►►

Imperial Space, World Kraike, Orbital Command Station, Imperial Sector Capital

► Captain Aymes found himself standing alone in the center of a dark room, the only light focused on him. The childish psychology of it all would have made him laugh in any other situation, but he was well aware that behind the games were a man and system that honestly did not care if he lived or died. In actuality, he suspected his death would be simpler.

“Captain.”

“My Lord,” Aymes said, resisting the urge to shield his eyes and search the shadows for the source of the voice.

It was entirely possible that the fleet lord wasn’t even in the room. No point in looking weak for no gain.

“It is the opinion of the Imperial analysts that you encountered a single Oather vessel and were
frightened
by some minor innovations on the enemy’s part, causing the loss of your parasite vessels and crews.”

“With respect, the Imperial analysts are fools.”

Fleet Lord Kaliba laughed softly, coldly. “You are not the first to say such things, but few have lived long enough to regret their statement . . . and none of those who did were as low in rank and status as you are.”

Aymes stiffened but nodded resolutely.

He really had nothing to lose at this point.

When in doubt, attack.

“Then have me killed,” he said simply. “I’ll be proven right in the end.”

“It would do you little good, Captain, after the fact,” Kaliba said idly. “However, your suggestion has merit, and the Imperial analysts have elected to follow it.”

“Suggestion, My Lord?” Aymes asked, not quite able to hide his grimace.

“Having you killed, of course,” the fleet lord said.

Aymes closed his eyes. “Yes, My Lord.”

“The manner of your death, however, has been left to me,” Kaliba said. “As such, you will return to your command and see to her repairs. When those are complete, you will join the Third Reconnaissance group and lead them to Oather space. Find these anomalies, end them if you can, return with evidence of their capabilities if you cannot. The Imperial expansion and end of the Oather sect, once and for all, will
not
be halted by some petty anomalous species. Thus I speak with the empress’ voice.”

“As you command, My Lord.”

CHAPTER 18

AEV
Odysseus
, Stellar Anomaly WTF487

► Eric examined the smaller ship as it floated alongside the
Odysseus
, noting the rather spectacular hole blown in the side of the vessel.

“I can’t believe they blew a containment bottle
inside
their own hull,” he whispered to Commander Heath, shaking his head in disbelief.

Miram cringed. “I’ve worked with Chief Doohan in the past, Captain. I, unfortunately, have
no problem
whatsoever believing it.”

“Keep him
off
my ship,” Eric said. “I can accept that maybe he had to do it, since apparently Captain Passer was in accordance, but if you aren’t shocked by it . . . just . . . No, he doesn’t set foot on the
Odysseus
.”

She laughed softly. “Oh, I’m shocked as well, Captain. I just don’t have any trouble believing it. Those are two very separate emotions.”

Eric rubbed his temples reflexively, eyes not leaving the image of the
Autolycus
on the primary display. Like the
Odysseus
, the
Auto
had a very basic long-range FTL transmitter, but due to power and other restrictions, the vessel was only able to broadcast very limited preset coded signals under normal circumstances. The
Auto
had been here long enough for its crew to painstakingly send out a more detailed report back to Earth, though a lot of the message’s content had been a mystery to Eric until the
Odysseus
entered the system.

The
Autolycus
was one of the lead ships in Earth’s search for any remnants of the Drasin menace. The Rogue Class vessel had been assigned to inspecting a series of stellar anomalies that fit the configuration the Drasin were known to construct. What they’d found out there wasn’t the Drasin but could be far,
far
more important.

“Captain Passer will be coming across shortly with their find,” Miram said, checking her personal pad. “And I have to say, I’m looking very much forward to seeing it.”

Eric nodded, well understanding her enthusiasm.

Passer’s discovery was possibly the trump card they had desperately been needing since Earth had found itself embroiled in this interstellar conflict. Hell, the anomaly itself was certainly going to be absolutely invaluable, enough so that he was going to have to cut off one of his Heroics and a couple Rogues to maintain security on the system while researchers began their jobs here.

WTF487 was a unique sort of stellar construct, smaller than most definitions of the term, barely larger than a planetary megaconstruct, but so much more powerful. The gravity lens heliobeam was a strategic superweapon, but also the single most powerful telescope ever discovered, the latter function being potentially far more valuable.

“That’s the captain’s shuttle, sir.” Miram gestured toward the display.

Eric glanced in the direction indicated and saw the augmented icon break from the
Auto
and approach.

“Good. I can’t wait to hear this story in person.” Eric chuckled. “Dragons? I thought giant spiders were bad.”

“I was more amused with the title of the mission report.” Miram laughed softly to herself. “A bit on the nose, but funny.”

“King of Thieves.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Captain Passer was a bubblehead in the war. The man reads too much sci-fi and fantasy if you ask me.”

►►►

► Eric looked up as the Marines admitted their visitors to the conference room, eyes settling on the man he’d met in the admiral’s office only a few weeks earlier.

“Ah, Captain Passer. It’s good to see you’re still in one piece.” Eric got to his feet and crossed the room, offering his hand.

Morgan Passer grasped it in return. “Thank you, Commodore.”

“Please, Eric will do here. I have to say, you stepped in it just about as deep as I did on my first mission.”

“Let’s hope not,” Morgan said forcefully. “We lost eighteen people on that moon. I would rather keep it at that.”

Eric nodded seriously. “Yes, we can but hope. Still, you accounted well for yourselves.”

“I have good people.”

“I know the feeling,” Eric agreed with a smile. “Well, let’s be about it, then, shall we?”

Morgan agreed, taking a seat.

“I reviewed your report, of course,” Eric said. “As has the admiralty. We’ll get you patched up and good to return to Earth. There’s a dry dock waiting for you there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Not going to take credit for that.” Eric laughed softly. “As long as you haven’t compromised the hull too badly, or fractured the ship’s spine, they’ll fix you up good as new. I have to say, intentionally popping a couple antimatter bottles? That was risky, Captain.”

“No more than letting that goop eat my ship,” Morgan said with feeling.

Eric frowned, knowing well enough the unpleasant feeling of seeing something actually
eat
your vessel.

“True,” he said. He really didn’t want to get into his thoughts on loosing antimatter on board one’s
own
ship, as it would only cloud matters. “We’ve discussed the . . . data you retrieved. Did you bring it?”

Morgan nodded, opening a case on the table. He took the glowing gem from within and passed it to the commodore.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Eric asked, turning the jewel over. He recognized the design from his interactions on Ranquil. “And nearly identical to Priminae long-term data storage. Our optical interface should be able to read it. Are you certain of what it contains?”

“Some of it. Doctor Palin was certain, at least.”

“Palin.” Eric smiled, remembering the irascible yet brilliant linguist. “You’re lucky to have him.”

“Some of my officers would disagree,” Morgan said with the hint of a smile, “but he did pull some rather impressive tricks out of his . . . hat.”

“Yes, well, he does that,” Eric said, setting the gem on the reader and waiting for a response. “Interface is compatible. It’s Priminae technology . . . or a precursor, I suppose. They haven’t changed their technology in millennia.”

“I still find that hard to believe,” Morgan said.

“We all do. Huh. It’s an
old
format, but readable. Here we go . . .”

A holographic image of the galaxy sprang up between them, and both men looked at it closely. A few sections were lit up, and with a swift hand movement, Eric zoomed in to see that certain stars were clearly marked.

“Precursor facilities.” He breathed, recalling his discussion with Admiral Tanner about the early history of the Priminae. “This . . . confirms a lot of theories, Captain.”

“Such as?”

“We’ve often thought that the Drasin . . .” Eric typed commands into the reader and the image shifted, showing one of the Drasin in profile next to a marked star. “We’ve often thought that someone was holding their leash . . . Here, a . . . prison? The Drasin were stored here.”

Eric leaned back. “Someone out there accessed one of these facilities, Captain, and in it they found the Drasin. They used them as a weapon against the Priminae, and against us. We cannot ignore that.”

Morgan signaled his agreement.

“Before the
Odysseus
was dispatched, the admiralty authorized a new long-term mission for the Rogue Class,” Eric said. “It’s contingent on what we find here, but I think I can confirm it now. You’re no longer going to be hunting for Drasin facilities, Captain.”

“We’re looking for the people who used them?” Morgan asked eagerly.

“No, that’s my job,” Eric said with authority. “You’re now in charge of Operation Prometheus.”

“Sir?”

“You said Palin called this fire of the gods, right?” Eric asked, indicating the gem in the reader.

“Yes sir.” Morgan understood the name now.

“Our enemies, whoever they are, used one of these facilities against us,” Eric said. “No more. Never again. We want you to go out and steal fire from the gods, find these facilities, confirm they’re intact, and secure them until a task force can arrive to take control.”

“Steal fire from the gods?” Morgan laughed. “I like the sound of that.”

“You accept, then?”

“Commodore, when my crew and I are done, the gods will have to bum a light from
us
.”

“That is exactly what I wanted to hear, Captain,” Eric said. “But first you need to get your ship repaired. Do you have damage assessments yet?”

Morgan nodded, handing over another data sheet.

Eric glanced over it, not quite able to disguise a grimace at some of the information, but overall the damages weren’t nearly as bad as they could have been.

“I’m shocked, Captain, that you didn’t tear irreparable chunks out of your interior framework. Those bottles had to have been placed
carefully
.”

Or with more luck than anyone deserved to have,
Eric added mentally.

“The chief used the magnetic containment to direct the initial discharge,” Morgan said. “When the bottles blew, the antimatter discharge was focused along a predictable cone.”

That stopped Eric for a moment as he lightly set the sheet down and pinched his nose. “Captain, are you telling me that your engineer devised an antimatter
shaped charge
?”

“Different mechanism, but similar result,” Morgan replied, smiling a little too happily in Eric’s opinion.

“I want his notes,” Eric said, “though whether for future use or so I can
burn
them, I’m not sure yet.”

“I believe you may have to fight my Marine commander for them, sir.”

►►►

► Repairing the
Auto
to the point where it could be certified as ready to transition back to Sol took a few days, yet was a reasonably straightforward job. The long, tedious inspections could have been handled entirely by the
Auto
’s crew but went a lot faster with help from the
Odysseus
and other Heroics in the system.

Eric had watched the
Auto
during the last few minutes of its climb out of the system and as it vanished into transitional space, mostly as a distraction from the work he and Commander Heath had on their own plates. The data files from the WTF487 anomaly were potentially game changers. Just the list of old yet potentially still-active alien sites was worth the cost of Earth’s entire space program, all the way back to Apollo.

What he was interested in, however, was something that wasn’t actually listed but rather was implied by the data. The location of most of the facilities fell within a section of space closer to the galactic core than Earth and Priminae space, a section that also happened to correspond with the withdrawal vector the
Odysseus
had recorded during their earlier engagement.

That was both good news and very bad news.

The good news was that the Alliance now had something akin to a confirmation concerning the location of the Empire, which gave him a search vector to work with. The bad news was that, if the other precursor facilities were
anywhere
near as valuable as this one was, a terrifying percentage of them existed in what almost
had
to be Imperial territory.

Passer had best get back in the black as soon as possible, because I believe we’re officially playing catch-up when it comes to stealing this particular bit of fire from the gods. The Empire seems to have beaten us to it.

Of course, so far the only piece of the puzzle he could reasonably link to the Empire was the Drasin, but that was more than enough.

Eric looked at the ancient data crystal sitting on the reader across from him. He had the evidence the admiral wanted. He was fairly certain he could present this and the vector information from their earlier engagement and get at least a declaration of hostilities from the Alliance leadership. Combined with Bandit One opening fire first, that was enough for a state of war, he thought. That made his job all the easier, but as suggestive as the evidence was, he’d rather clinch the case if he could.

“Commander,” he said, looking over to where Miram was working, “do you have any projections on likely Imperial systems?”