The Orphan Alliance (The Black Ships Book 3) (28 page)

His blood
had turned to smoke in his veins when he saw the planet-killing ships
approaching his home. Beyond the obvious threat represented by those ships,
they also forced the defenders to attack piecemeal, hoping for lucky strikes
against the mass drivers before they could wipe out Dactar. He had aimed to
destroy those ships as his opening move, giving the defenders breathing room to
organize themselves.

What had
seemed to be a simple enough plan had failed utterly.

It was
almost as if the enemy knew that Reis’ force was on its way.

“From the
pre-jump data, I would estimate we’ve reduced the enemy’s combat power by
fifteen percent with our drop-wash,” the tactical officer declared.

Not a bad
tactical gain, but the officers and men of the Krypteia were trained to focus on
strategic and operational targets. A good Krypteian flota should be a force
multiplier, rather than a simple toe-to-toe face-masher. His force was a
quarter the size of the enemy. He could hurt them but not stop them. He could,
however, fight his way through to a target that would be worth the sacrifice of
his men and ships.

“We’re
committed,” Reis decided. “Signal all ships, we’ll cut our way through to the
drivers.” Any other course of action would fail to relieve the defenders. As
long as they saw a cohesive force attacking toward the asteroid accelerators,
there was the chance that a commander with presence of mind would bring some
order to the remaining defensive forces.

A howl ran
through the ship as the main and secondary batteries opened up. The first
salvo, with every rail gun firing in unison, always managed to overpower the
thrust compensators and Reis swayed with a  practiced ease, absorbing the
slight stall in their acceleration. Subsequent gunnery would continue at best
possible rate, making a simultaneous discharge very unlikely.

They easily
cut through the thin flank that had been guarding the mass drivers until
recently. Despite his disdain for the regular combat forces, he was not above
the thrill of a straight-up fight, especially one that was going his way.

Rus was
proving to be a capable second. Without prompting, he was issuing orders to
turn the fleet toward the path of least resistance between them and their
target. He had also formed the fleet into the standard point-forward-cone
formation, closed up so tightly that their shields could overlap. Power was
diverted from the emitters on the inner side and channeled to the outer planes,
greatly increasing their protection.

Give me
an officer who makes a poor decision over one who makes none at all and I’ll
thank you for your help,
Reis thought. It was his own personal mantra. No matter how bad the
situation is – decide and act. He’d had his moments of self-doubt in the fight
at Tauhento, but decisions had been made and actions taken. Because of those
decisions, his force was here, ready to make a difference.

They cut
their way deep into the enemy formation, smashing the ships that stood in their
way, savaging those that came in on their flanks. They were losing ships – Reis
was aware of the steady stream of casualty reports – but he also knew, with a
fierce certainty, that he would achieve his goal before he died.

The planet
killers were almost in his grasp.

“Krypteian
commander, this is Admiral John Towers. Do you read me?”

Reis
shuddered. It was like finding someone standing inside your bedchamber.
How
did that fornicating devil transmit directly to my implant?
His tail waved
in front of his chest.
Did one of my brother officers fall into their hands
and fail to activate his cranial charge?

“Krypteian
commander, Krypteian commander, this is Admiral John Towers of the Alliance.
Are you receiving this signal?”

Reis raised
his chin. “This is Flota Reis Mas of the Krypteia. I’m receiving your signal,
Admiral Towers.”

Half the
bridge crew was staring at him in shock.

“Flota Mas,
I am only giving you this one warning,” the Human said. “We have a clear firing
solution for Xo’Khov. If you do not break off your attack immediately, I will
be forced to open fire on your capital.”

An
intolerable situation. A Krypteian flota being asked to passively gaze at a
threat that could wipe out his home? “How do I know you won’t fire anyway?”

A chuckle.
“The only thing you
need
to know, Flota Mas, is that I
will
fire
if you don’t stop moving toward those mass drivers. The only course of action
that will save your world is to stand down. I have already ordered our vessels
to cease fire against your force.”

“Sir!” Rus
turned to Reis, a look of surprise on his face, his tail swaying uncertainly.
“The enemy has stopped firing at us…”

“Halt the
fleet,” Reis ordered, “and cease fire as well.”

An argument
tried to surface on Rus’ features, but he put it down like an illegal protest
march and turned to carry out his orders.

 “Why
would you bring those uncivilized devices all the way to Dactar and not use
them?” Reis demanded.

“We
captured those
uncivilized devices
on approach to Earth,” the Human
replied mildly. “They still carry the asteroids harvested by their original
Dactari crews – asteroids intended for the annihilation of all life on our
world. Perhaps you would like to re-phrase your question?”

“Impossible.”
Reis’ tail gave an impatient flick. “How could we bombard your world without
killing our own occupation troops? Your words ring false.” He suddenly
remembered the wild assertions of his former commissar.
How deep do the lies
run?

  
The Human chuckled. “Flota, your response is at the heart of our true
objective. We didn’t come here to destroy Dactar. We came to force a change.”

 
“S
o
,
what’s the next step?” Captain Hunter was studying the holo projection as he
shifted his weight from foot to foot. The sudden cessation of hostilities had
left him at loose ends with an excess of adrenaline.

“Well,”
Towers began, “We have to…”

“Enemy
defense forces are breaking off,” tactical announced. “They’re turning toward
the system’s sun.”

“What the
hell?” Hunter leaned in toward the moving icons.

“New
contact – approaching fast from the sun. It’s almost here already,” tactical
called. “Holy shit! Sorry, sir, but that’s the biggest damn thing I’ve ever
seen. It’s more than eighty times the size of the
Midway
. We could park
the whole damn fleet inside that thing.”

“Mass
drivers might take it down,” Hunter urged.

Towers
nodded.
The minute those drivers launch, the fight is back on, but we may
not get a second chance.
“Signal the…”

“Enemy are
firing on the new contact,” the tactical officer shouted.

Towers
grabbed Hunter by the shoulder. “Belay that. Let’s see how this plays out. If
it came from this system, I want to know why the Dactari are firing on it.” He
saw Hunter’s raised eyebrow and shrugged. “Enemy of my enemy…”

 “Something’s
in our systems!” operations called out. “Sir, we’re dead in the water.”

“Weapons
are down!” tactical announced. “We still have sensors.”

“Dammit!”
Towers pounded a fist on the trace table. His hand accidentally zooming the
holo  display above it.

Hunter
reached out to re-set the display and stopped in alarm. “Sir?” He looked around
the bridge, then ran to the corner of the trace table, peering down. He looked
up again in confusion. “Admiral Towers?”

The
Dark Defiance
,
Dactari Space

T
ommy
stood in one of the lounges
surrounding a large conference chamber on the two hundred fortieth floor. The
windows faced the long axis of the
Dark Defiance
, allowing for a
magnificent view out of the open stern of the vessel. The adjacent sides had
views that cut through the circular cross-section of the massive ship and
showed a distance hazed, curved carpet of buildings.

Five
kilometers from the stern, the five hull sections made a dramatic circular
frame for the fragile curve of Dactar.

“Who the
hell are you?” The voice interrupting him was calm, but held an edge.

Tommy
turned to see a man in his late middle age wearing blue camouflage. A strip of
cloth on his chest proclaimed his name. “Admiral John Towers?” He stepped
toward him, catching the slight nod of confirmation. “My name is Tommy Kennedy.”
He extended a hand, held it out for a few seconds, and then dropped it with a
shrug.
I might not be keen on shaking hands with my own kidnapper either,
come to think of it.

“Sir,
perhaps I should start with an apology. My first visit to this ship was also an
unsettling experience, to say the least.”

“You were
abducted from your ship?” Towers’ eyes bored into Tommy.

“From a
Kholan drop ship,” Tommy replied, “But we were looking for this ship when it
happened so, I have to admit, my own experience was probably less startling
than yours, though we had to contend with the
thrill ride
of dropping
into a gas giant.”

“Khola?”
The center of Towers’ eyebrows raised a fraction. “Only two ships have been
there from Earth and, unless you speak Mandarin, I’m betting you know the
captain of the other ship.”

Tommy
realized the admiral was testing the truth of his story. “Harry Young,” he
replied. “You know Harry?”

A wave out
the window. “He’s here, along with his…”

“Here?”
Tommy cut him off. “The
Völund
is here? My father and step-mother are
here?” He took an involuntary step toward the admiral. “Liam Kennedy? Dr. Jan
Kennedy?” He saw a blank look. “She was Jan Colbert, one of the first to
discover the Dactari presence on Mars.”

A sudden
dawning of comprehension softened Towers’ features. “That’s right,” he said to
himself. “I knew she was on the
Völund,
but I forgot she took a new
name.”

“Sir, is
she still there? Is my father there?”

“I know
she
is.” Towers frowned. “Sorry, son, but I don’t know your dad from a hole in the
ground.” He made a helpless wave of his hands but suddenly stopped. “If your
accent is anything to go by,” he said, grinning, “he might be there. Harry put
in a request for British security troops when we took the
Völund
 on
strength. I asked him what was wrong with American troops and he confessed that
he was just trying to keep booze legal on his ship.”

“Booze?”

“That’s
right. You limeys don’t run a dry force like we do. He admitted that his
security chief put him up to it. Said he’d have to lay in a stock of the good
stuff if he had a multinational crew.”

“That’s my
dad!” Tommy didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Then he remembered why
Towers had been brought here.
There’ll be time for a family reunion later,
assuming we can focus on the task at hand and resolve this. If we don’t…
He
forced his elation to the side for the moment.

“Sir, we
were looking at a ship under the Xo’Khov sea when this battle started. It was
one of Keeva’s sister ships.” Tommy held out a hand toward one of the lounge chairs
and they both sat. “Keeva’s the symbiote that runs this vessel
.

“We weren’t
sure if we should intervene, but then we heard you and Flota Reis arranging a
cease fire and decided to offer you a secure site for further talks.” He waved
a hand toward the conference area, visible through the glass walls. “The
Dark
Defiance
is able to keep both fleets on a neutral footing while you talk,
so you don’t have to worry about a sneak attack while you’re here.”

Towers
raised a hand. “Hold on, son. Let’s start with this ship. Is it Dactari?”

Tommy shook
his head. “This ship is more than a half million years old. It was built by a
species that mostly went extinct a long time ago.” They’d seeded humanoid life
on just about every habitable planet they could find, including Dactar
and
Earth. Tommy didn’t think it would be very helpful to drop an astonishing fact
like that on Towers at the moment. They needed to focus on making peace, not on
the origins of species.

“So it’s
neutral?”

“Yes.”
Tommy waved at the glass wall between them and the conference area. “We have
Gelna Tai, a former Dactari prisoner, with us. He’s in a lounge on the other
side with the senior Dactari officer, who happens to be the one you were
already talking to. Your drop-wash trick pretty much decapitated their
leadership.”

“Uh huh,”
Towers leaned forward. “This ship can keep us all on a neutral footing,” he
mused out loud. “What if I talk to this Flota Mas and decide to go on
fighting?”

“Then we’ll
go back to what we were doing and move on.” A shrug. “We’ve seen entire worlds
destroyed. We help if we can but, in the end, we move on if we’re not welcome.”

Towers
stood. “Let’s go meet my counterpart.”

Tommy
grinned.
Not much sense in trying to ‘handle’ this guy. He’s used to making
decisions and just doing it.
He stood as well. “This way, Admiral.”

They walked
out into the vast space of the penthouse conference facility. The glazing
soared above, coming to a point eighty feet above them. Despite the acute angle
of the glass ceiling, a hazy view could be had of the hull sections on the far
side of the ship, just over thirty kilometers away.

 Another
Human stood by the aft end of the room, gazing out at Dactar. He wore an empty
pistol holster on his right thigh.

“Sir,”
Tommy said, gesturing toward the man. “This is Kale Thompsen, a former JTF-2
operator.”

Kale turned
and gave Towers a friendly nod. “Welcome aboard, sir.”

“Mr.
Thompsen.” The admiral returned the nod. He turned so he could see both men.
“What exactly is it that you do with this ship? I doubt you fly around looking
for conflicts to mediate.”

“All due
respect, sir,” Kale responded, “but that’s gonna take more explaining than we
have time for right now. Not to mention how much distraction it would add to an
already tricky situation.”

“He’s
right, Admiral,” Tommy added. “We’ll explain what we’re doing, but perhaps we
should leave that until you’ve had a chance to talk to our other guest.” He
nodded toward the far side, where Gelna and Reis had just walked in from their
lounge.

R
eis
had hoped the oppressive atmosphere
of the lounge would be left behind, but he still felt the inexplicable,
overbearing presence as they stepped out into the conference area. He didn’t
dare admit it to Gelna – he had no way of knowing if he could trust the medical
officer’s motives. Gelna had been among the Humans for more than a decade. He
might have developed sympathies for them, and Reis couldn’t trust him with a
weakness like this. He had to acknowledge the odd feelings for what they were
and force himself to serve his people.

There is
only this moment.
He
took a deep breath, looking around to see three Humans standing by the main
window. He moved toward them with a purposeful stride.

“Admiral
John Towers,” he greeted his opponent, having no doubt as to which man was the
enemy commander. His bearing radiated the aura of one who holds the power of
life and death over thousands. He had an erect military bearing coupled with
the signs of constant psychological wear and tear. He had power, certainly, but
also the weight of ceaseless responsibility bearing down on his soul. 

“Flota
Mas,” the Human replied. “Your arrival was an unexpected kink in my plans.”

Was it?
“You managed to carry on, all the
same,” Reis countered. “We’ve achieved a stalemate, but you still have mass
drivers parked over Xo’Khov.” The thought filled his veins with smoke. His
sister was down there, with her two little ones.

The Human
waved a hand. “That should be enough to serve my purpose,” he said. “I needed
to get your undivided attention.” He glanced out at the planet below – the
delicate, fragile world.

“We need to
talk,” the  admiral said simply.