Odyssey One 5: Warrior King (20 page)

“A few. Why?”

“What’s the closest one you think you can be reasonably sure about?” Eric asked.

Miram considered the question for a moment, then highlighted a system about fourteen hundred light-years from Earth. “This one. It’s along the withdrawal vector of Bandit One, is close to one of the precursor installations on the crystal, and we already have it listed as a system of interest.”

“We do?” Eric blinked. “Why?”

“Kepler 452b,” Miram said. “It’s been on our investigate list since the early twenty-first century as a system with a probable Earth-type planet.”

“Alright, then I suppose we have a target,” Eric said.

“Yes sir.”

►►►

► “The
Heracles
signals that they’re ready to begin research operations,” Miram said as she took her place on the bridge of the
Odysseus
. “Captain Vasquez sends her regards and wishes us luck.”

“Send my thanks,” Eric said, “and have the rest of the squadron ready to depart.”

“
Bellerophon
and
Boudicca
both signal ready, and our Rogues are ready to travel,” Miram said.

“Signal all ships,” Eric ordered. “Warp space for the heliopause, ahead full.”

“All ships, ahead full, aye.”

“
Odysseus
ahead full, aye,” Steph echoed from the helm and navigation station.

The feel of the
Odysseus
shifted just slightly as the big ship began to move, warping space-time and pulling away from the gravity of the local star and the heliobeam anomaly.

The four Rogues took point and flanking positions around the three Heroics in an escort formation based on carrier group escort SOP. Eric had taken some time to familiarize himself with the Rogue Class of ships when the admiral had assigned them to his command, and in many ways he wouldn’t have minded being assigned one of them instead of the
Odysseus
.

The Rogues were very similar to the
Odyssey
in their power system, though considerably refined and several times more powerful overall. Many of the power sinks and inefficiencies of the
Odyssey
’s original design had been done away with, streamlining the systems into dedicated warships. That, along with the Chinese space-warp drive, made them fast, invisible, and lethal.

By comparison, the Heroics were slow, lumbering giants in real-space encounters. Powerful beyond all sane measure, but also impossible to miss by anyone with gravity scanners.

Eric made a note to start working on tactical SOPs for using the Heroics and Rogues in combined arms operations. He was reasonably certain he could make adaptations from submarine and carrier task force operations with a few key modifications.

His Rogues would serve as fast-attack submarines, Eric decided, covering the Heroics as well as using the obvious threat of the larger ships as an opening to get in the occasional free shot.

His task force now consisted of the Heroics
Odysseus
,
Bellerophon
, and
Boudicca
in combination with the Rogues
Hood
,
Aladdin
,
Song-Jiang
, and
Kid
.

Eric just hoped the squadron would be enough. He had a bad feeling about this Empire.

►►►

Imperial Space, Interstellar Meeting Point

► The
Piar Cohn
slowed to a halt amid the ships of the Third Reconnaissance squadron, carefully bleeding particle energy back into her singularity to avoid irradiating any allied vessels in the process of deceleration. Traveling at superluminal speeds was hazardous in almost infinite ways, but unloading high-energy particles at superluminal speeds was one of the worst dangers.

“Captain, secure comm signal from squadron commander,” his subaltern told him.

“Send to my personal display,” Aymes ordered, pulling his screen closer.

“Welcome to Recon Three, Captain Aymes,” the woman greeted him.

Aymes inclined his head respectfully. A full salute was hardly possible in his current position. “Thank you for the welcome, Lady Navarch.”

“I’ve been briefed on your encounter,” the Lady Misrem Plotu, Navarch of the Third Reconnaissance squadron, informed him. “As well as the analyst’s conclusions and your objections.”

“Yes, My Lady,” he said firmly. “I am here to serve.”

“Yes,” she told him, “you are.”

There was nothing he could say to that.

“The fleet lord believes that your explanation is plausible enough to investigate,” she told him, “and so that is precisely what we will do. You are more familiar with the territory than we are, Captain. What methodology would you recommend we employ in this task?”

Aymes took a breath before answering. “That depends on the ultimate goal. However, as I believe we can agree that we want to contact the anomaly species or, failing that, releash as many Drasin drones as possible, I believe the best operative method would be to sweep inward toward Oather territory, along the Drasin path as I originally did.”

“I see,” the navarch said noncommittally. “That will be acceptable for the moment. You will place your ship under my direct command. Do
not
interfere with the operations of Third Recon, and keep in mind . . . if I desire your input, I
will
demand it.”

“I understand, My Lady.”

“Good. Stand by for maneuvering orders, Captain. We will depart on my orders.”

“As you command,” he confirmed, barely getting in the last word before the comm channel closed.

Aymes sighed, sitting back at his station but managing to keep his temper in check. He’d known that his mission’s failure would cost him, and his star in the Empire had never been particularly ascendant to begin with. Aymes had never completed any particularly impressive missions to bring himself to the attention of the higher ranks or Imperial nobility. He’d avoided failures until now, but that was merely enough to achieve the rank of captain.

Higher promotions were reserved for nobility or heroes of the Empire.

Aymes was neither, so he’d gone as far as he could expect, barring heroic action or public failure.

The second was the one that met him first.

He looked around, his crew’s eyes on him. “You heard the navarch. Make ready to maneuver.”

►►►

IBC
Shion Thon
, Flagship, Third Reconnaissance Squadron

► Third Recon was one of the Empire’s forward squadrons, loaded heavier than many dedicated combat units because the Third was expected to run into the unknown and unpredictable as a matter of course. Navarch Plotu had seen things in her career that had frozen even
her
blood, a task few of her peers would have thought possible.

Misrem had looked over the report from Aymes and, despite misgivings about his presence in her squadron, felt that there was a decent chance that he and the fleet lord were correct. Something was very strange about the ship he’d encountered, and those changes in design could be explained quite neatly if they assumed that the anomaly had somehow teamed up with the Oathers.

Analysts were in a state of disbelief. In order for the anomalous vessel to exist, the unknown species and the Oathers would have had to agree to a frankly preposterous level of technology sharing.

The only other possibility was that the Oathers had somehow been conquered in the short time that had passed since the last Imperial reconnaissance of their systems, and that was impossible from a tactical point of view. More likely, two entirely different species had somehow lost their abyss-emptied minds and handed highly secret military technology to one another.

The analysts didn’t think either was possible, but Misrem wasn’t so certain. There was one factor that they were all forgetting, a very large one that might lead to an act of desperation.

The Drasin.

She hadn’t been willing to voice that theory to the fleet lord or the senate representative when she was assigned this mission, and for similar reasons she had no intention of even
hinting
that she thought Aymes might be less than insane and incompetent. Without evidence, voicing her pet theory would be akin to criticizing the senate decision to deploy the Drasin in the first place.

She was a minor noble, and Misrem was under no delusions that her status could withstand the level of response
that
move would bring down on her head.

“Hirau . . .” She walked over to her flag captain. “Does the squadron stand ready?”

“Awaiting your command, My Lady.”

She nodded, having expected no less.

“Very good. Then bring us out.”

“Destination, My Lady?” Hirau asked, signaling his helm controller and subaltern to issue the preparatory orders.

“We’ll take Captain Aymes’ advice,” she said simply. “Put us on a track to approach the first Drasin target. We will repeat his original task vector.”

Hirau issued the orders before turning back. “Permission to query the navarch, My Lady . . .”

“You want to know if I believe them,” she said with a faint smile, “or if I’m giving the captain a charge or two in the hopes that he’ll shoot himself and rid me of his presence?”

“The thought had crossed my mind, My Lady . . . and . . . more along similar lines.”

“Mmmmmm,” she hummed, willing to let that statement lie without clarification. She’d likely have broken anyone else who even barely intimated what her flag captain was suggesting, but they’d been together for some time and she trusted him. “Let’s say, if that is what happens, I’ll shed no tears.”

Hirau nodded, but his eyes narrowed slightly. “If, My Lady? You believe his story?”

“I believe there’s more here than the analysts have seen,” she said without committing. “So we will determine just what they’ve missed, yes?”

“As you command, My Lady.”

“As I command, indeed,” Misrem said, with no room for any doubt in her tone.

CHAPTER 19

AEV
Odysseus
, Outer System, Kepler 452

► “Run passive scans,” Eric ordered as he fought the urge to puke all over his clean command from the aftereffects of transition.

They’d dropped into the outer limits of the system, so far out that technically the task force was still in interstellar space. The system primary, Kepler 452, was a G-class yellow dwarf barely visible from their position without the use of advanced instrumentation. He hoped they were far enough out not to be detected if there were an Imperial presence in the system, but at least he was certain they could make a run for it in a pinch.

“We’re deploying the squadron in a large array to maximize our scanner take,” Miram told him. “So far, there’s no sign of anything truly unusual.”

Eric kept his face even. He was honestly a little disappointed. He’d hoped to strike pay dirt with their first shot, of course, even if that was unlikely. The take from the
Auto
’s discovery of the gravity observation construct and heliobeam had narrowed their search, but Eric was well aware that it was still a big damned galaxy.

“Have we located 452b?” he asked, genuinely interested.

Kepler 452b was the designation of the likely Earth-type exoplanet discovered in the early twenty-first century. “Earth type” meaning that the world was likely rocky in nature and within a reasonable range of Earth’s size. In this case, the planet was supposedly 60 percent larger than Earth and within the liquid-water range from its star.

“Roger that,” Miram said. “Picked it out fast on the gravity scanners, confirmed with scopes.”

“We have any resolution on it yet?”

“Not yet, sir. Give us an hour,” Miram replied.

Eric nodded, knowing that the job was going to be a long one no matter how he cut it.

No matter what, at least we’ll learn something.

He checked the helio database from his station, looking for the location of the closest precursor point of interest to their coordinates. He quickly found an installation located on a planet about forty light-years from Kepler 452. Quite a distance, of course, but in galactic terms right next door. That would be their next destination, should they discover nothing at 452.

►►►

AEV
Bellerophon

► Captain Jason Roberts of the
Bellerophon
looked over the status displays arrayed around his station with a stony expression his crew had long since gotten used to. The former Army ranger had enjoyed something of a legendary reputation among the recruits he’d acquired both when the
Bell
was first launched and when they picked up new crew from Earth after the invasion had been dealt with.

The mix of Priminae and Terran crew had left him with some difficulties as he tried to establish his own command style. Adding Block specialists to the mix also hadn’t done him any favors.

That said, Jason liked to think that he’d done well. His
Bellerophon
was one of the Heroics, and he’d put his crew against any of their peers—even the flag itself.

“Imagery from 452b is coming in, sir,” his first officer, Commander Michael Shriver, said, gesturing toward the secondary display over the navigation station. “Not looking like much.”

“No, it isn’t,” Roberts agreed. “Our trip here was a long shot.”

“I know, but I figured with the Weston luck at play and all . . .” Shriver shrugged with an amused chuckle.

“Luck is purely chance in my experience. In the end, fortune will always balance out,” Roberts told him flatly. “So don’t count on good luck helping us.”

“No sir, I won’t,” Shriver said, eyes narrowing as he looked at the imagery again. “Huh. Well, I guess that seals that deal.”

“What is it?” Roberts asked, turning his focus back to the issue at hand.

“Hyperspectral data shows the world is dead.” Shriver pointed.

Roberts nodded as he read the data himself. Hyperspectral cameras read the spread of light as it passed through, or reflected off, an object—in this case, the planet’s atmosphere. By analyzing the frequencies of light absorbed in the process of transmission, the cameras could determine what chemicals were present in the atmosphere, because some elements naturally absorbed more of certain wavelengths than others.

452b had no complex organic chemicals to speak of and almost no oxygen.

Dead world.

“Well, this is a bust, but we have other leads,” Roberts said after a moment’s reflection.

“Yes sir,” Shriver agreed, but barely got the words out before an insistent alarm sounded from the computers. “Now what—well, look at that.”

Roberts glanced over his shoulder, then back at the large screen. “Is that pure titanium in orbit?”

“It is. Resolution isn’t high enough to pick it out visually yet, but I don’t think that’s natural.”

“Who puts . . . It’s not a station, is it?” he asked, trying to make heads or tails of the readings.

“No sir, certainly not. Too small. This looks like a debris field,” Shriver said. “I’m going to have to bump this to Commander Heath on the
Odysseus
, sir. It’s over my head.”

“Escalate the transmission,” Roberts ordered. “Something is going on in this system, even if it’s not what we wanted.”

“I think something
went
on in this system, Captain,” Shriver said, “but whatever it was, it happened a long time ago.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t the Drasin,” Roberts said with a carefully suppressed shudder. He
hated
those spider beasts.

“Small mercies, Captain.”

►►►

AEV
Odysseus

► “There was a species here, once,” Miram said thoughtfully as she examined the data.

Eric walked over, checking the display over her shoulder. “Native?”

“No way to tell now,” Miram admitted. “Lots of space junk around the second planet, though. Could be native, an example of a prespace culture making the transition, but the debris could also be the results of a mining operation or something else I have no frame of reference for.”

“How long ago?”

“That I can’t say either, but it’s been a while. A lot of the material is in pretty low orbit, obviously decaying. I’d say hundreds, if not thousands of years. Closer to thousands.”

“Not our concern then,” Eric said. “Mark the system for later study. I’m sure someone will love the job. Get the squadron ready to move out.”

“Aye Captain.”

Eric stepped back, looking over the stellar telemetry they were using for navigation and the data taken from the charts the
Autolycus
had recovered.

“Commander Michaels, make course for Kepler 571,” he said. “We’re going to check out the installation reported there and see if there’s any sign of Imperial habitation.”

“Yes sir,” Steph said from his station, most of his chemical burns healed and his voice almost back to normal. “Insertion point?”

“Well outside the stellar influence,” Eric declared.

“Interstellar space, aye Skipper.”

Steph put in the course calculations, then sent the new data out to the rest of the vessels in the force. With Eric’s orders countersigning them, observation duty was put aside in a few moments as the ships prepared to leave.

The task force wheeled as one, never even breaching the heliosphere of Kepler 452, and adjusted their trajectory as they prepared to transition.

Seven ships flickered for an interminable second, then vanished in a puff of reality, leaving the dead system far in their wake.

►►►

IBC
Shion Thon
, Flagship, Third Reconnaissance Squadron

► Navarch Plotu examined the feeds from the enhanced scans they’d done of the system, noting some aberrations but nothing exceptional. The most obvious, of course, was the world that had been destroyed by the Drasin much earlier. They’d give that a wide berth, even if they had to descend into the system—which they usually didn’t—just on general principle.

The odds of any drones having survived the breakup of the planet were slim, almost impossible really, but slim and almost didn’t cut it when dealing with those things.

She glanced to one side, where Captain Aymes was silently waiting for her attention on one of the command displays.

He’s smarter than I was led to believe,
Misrem noted. Given how he’d aggressively challenged both the senate and the analysts, she’d expected a foolish hothead who got lucky. Now she was wondering if he was perhaps considerably more dangerous than that. A man with patience who both knew when the situation called for taking a risk
and
had the guts to make his bets with everything on the line—that was someone to watch.

“I see no signs of your anomaly vessel, Captain,” she said coldly, casually tilting her head just enough so she could look at him without strain.

“They were never native to this system, I assure you, Navarch,” he told her in a neutral tone. “Our encounter was likely pure chance.”

That almost caused her to laugh at the man. He might be more than he seemed, she was willing to grant, but if he really believed that, he was still a child.

“Unlikely that, Captain Aymes,” Misrem told him. “They were either here to survey the damage done by the Drasin or, more likely, backtrack the path the Drasin took when the creatures invaded. They, my dear captain, were almost certainly
looking
for you, or us, I suppose. That would preclude the very idea that the meeting was in any way pure chance.”

Aymes considered her remarks, then tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Point conceded, Navarch.”

The question now became, where did they withdraw to?
Or were they foolish enough to push on without repairs?
Misrem had mixed feelings about that possibility.

If they had done that, well, it was a stupid move, and more importantly, it was the sort of stupidity that would make them easy to handle in the future. On the other hand, that would also mean that a fully armed cruiser capable of taking on the
Piar Cohn
and emerging with only minor damage was now quite possibly nearing the edges of Imperial space.

Not normally a big worry. Even if they weren’t Oathers, there was a limit to how much damage such a thing could do before the fleet came down on them. On the other hand, this wasn’t normal times. People who’d just been hit by the Drasin were unlikely to be in a pleasant mood. She could imagine many ways to turn even the weapons of a light cruiser to the destruction of entire star systems, and so the thought of a heavy cruiser flying around unchecked in Imperial territory was worrisome.

Still, by all the data she’d seen in the
Cohn
’s reports, these people didn’t appear either that aggressive or that stupid. The odds were very much in favor of them having withdrawn back to a repair station.

So,
Misrem mused as she looked over the recon data they had on the Oather systems,
where would I withdraw to if I needed minor repairs in a hurry and wanted to make a report?

The Oather capital system of Ranquil was a possibility, but it was too far away by her judgment. Certainly, it would have the best facilities
somewhere
—the failure of the recon forces to locate their chief shipyard facility was something that still greatly irked her—but the ship that had dealt with Aymes hadn’t needed such extensive facilities.

The hard part was crossing out all the known Drasin-devastated systems, since some of those had been struck after the observer units were forced to pull back due to increased Oather fleet movement.

“Here,” she said finally. “Make for the Oather system of Por-Que.”

“As you command, Navarch.”

Misrem settled in as the orders went out to the squadron. Getting all the ships moving in the same direction sometimes seemed to be the most difficult part of running such a group, but she’d learned a long time before that the secret to such a feat was simply finding people you trusted to do the hard work—but only a certain level of trust. No one trusted too easily if they were wise, as there were always up-and-coming officers looking for an open promotion slot.