Homeworld (Odyssey One) (23 page)

Many of the crew, Sun included, had served on submarines in the past and the instinct had followed them, it seemed.

They had been sitting in space for three days now, just letting their light-speed limited sensors soak up the photons around them, slowly pushing their detection bubble back second by second. For three light-days around them, as best as they could tell, there was no enemy. Stealthed ships were possible, but he’d even gone active with a pair of nuclear-fused explosives as soon as they paused to look for anything like that.

In space, without atmosphere to absorb the energy and convert it to heat, most of a nuclear explosion was electromagnetic energy. Lethal, perhaps, against soft targets, but for
a military ship they weren’t much threat unless they were very close indeed.

They made excellent omnidirectional transmitters if one didn’t particularly care what sort of signal they were sending out. Say, for example, you wanted to send out a very powerful burst that would bounce back off nearly anything it encountered. Within one and a half light-days of their location, they’d found several asteroids, a great deal of smaller rocks, and even what appeared to be a rogue planet, but there was no sign of active pursuit or anything that matched any ship silhouette they had on file.

That’s as certain as can be then,
he decided, finally.

“Prepare a course for the homeworld,” Sun ordered firmly. “Not direct, but let us not waste any more time either.”

“Yes, Captain.”

He could hear the relief in the officer’s voice and see it in the crew. He didn’t have to try hard to understand it very hard. He felt it too. They’d been out in deep space too long in a ship that was now half crippled, and with the possibility of alien monsters hunting them across the stars.

The tensions were running high, and despite the discipline he maintained on board ship, Sun felt that if he didn’t break soon, it would be to the detriment of his crew. A few small scuffles had already broken out, children fighting over what would normally be nothing. Soon that would escalate.

No, now was the time.

They’d cleared their trail of pursuit and the
Weifang
was in desperate need of repairs that could only be achieved with the tools and facilities available at the Block station in Earth orbit. Fun and games were over. It was time to go home.

IMPERIAL DESTROYER
DEMIGOD

THESE ALIENS ARE more irritating than an entire system of the Priminae.

The alien vessel had been flying like it was piloted by an inebriated primate, tying up the better part of two entire divisions of drones plus two destroyers of the Imperial Fleet. He had his job and that was fine, but this was honestly beginning to ride on his nerves.

How long are we going to be following this fool around like some child’s pet, looking for any recognition?

Ivanth understood the need to investigate every unknown ship. The galaxy was riddled with pocket empires and minor powers that regularly caused the empire trouble. In this sector, aside from the expected, they’d already located one ship that barely registered on any scanner, which was capable of annihilating multiple drone ships and evading ships of the People at the same time.

Nothing out there should be able to do that.

Nothing.

“New course change!”

Again?
Ivanth grimaced but made his way over to the navigation section. “Where now?”

“Nowhere.”

Ivanth only wished that was the first time he heard that statement, but he had to ask anyway. “Explain.”

“There are no stars along the new course, nothing for many lights.”

Not unexpected. These people are either insane or paranoid in the extreme.

Though, to be honest, Ivanth couldn’t exactly blame them. He didn’t have to fear the drones descending on his world. They were under imperial control, but that didn’t mean that he
didn’t
fear them. He would be wary of leading them to his home, and in fact was concerned with the fact that the drones
did
know the location of his homeworld.

Unlike most of those in the upper echelons, Ivanth was far from convinced of the effectiveness of the recoding done on the drones’ originator. His opinion didn’t carry much weight, however, so he followed orders and did what had to be done.

For the moment, that meant tracking this ship back and identifying its homeworld.

“Continue pursuit course, same lag range,” he ordered. “Maintain full overwatch. We don’t take our eyes off that ship.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Ivanth stepped away from the station, walking to the back of the command deck. He paused by the Officer of the Watch. “I want to be informed the moment it seems they decide on a destination.”

“At your command.”

Ivanth nodded and walked off the deck.

The
Demigod
was an Imperial destroyer, one of the finest ships in known space. It was, however, built to survive and win in
the cold heat of battle. Running around from system to system as a glorified traffic controller was beneath the
Demigod’s
dignity.

He hadn’t counted on this when he joined the fleet. He envisioned patrolling Imperial space, enforcing the Pax, even taking on the occasional pirate or alien “armada.” Granted, historically alien armadas generally amounted to less than a hundred ships and usually couldn’t put a dent in a destroyer if they
rammed
it. Still, it was the image that counted, he supposed.

And there were exceptions.

Such as the Priminae.

Ivanth scowled unconsciously as he thought of the Priminae.
Pacifist fools
.

Ten thousand generations later, and their name was still cursed by many in the central worlds of the Imperial Systems. It took all of that time to track down where they had gone, where they had
fled
, and now they were once again in the hands of the Empire, whether they knew it or not.

And what was he doing? Tracking an alien pest that apparently couldn’t fly straight because another alien pest had turned out to be far more capable than anyone could ever have imagined. They had to locate the homeworld of the unknown ship, for it represented a threat that could not be ignored. Word had to be brought back if it were the first of a future fleet.

Well, that was what the drones were for.

The red band in their midst was like a fire beneath them, burning them up from the inside. The conflicting orders they were operating under made no sense, but for now there was nothing to be done. Two great ships of the red band flew amongst them and each of them could only eye them hungrily.

They knew the orders would make sense.

Eventually.

For now they would take out the frustrations where they could, as they could.

Soon, however, soon they would not be required to suffer the band in their midst any longer.

That was the way of the swarm.

“Commander. The alien ship has altered course.”

It was all Ivanth could do not to make a disgusted sound at the news that was hardly news at all. He forced himself to nod in acknowledgement and speak calmly.

“Any destination?”

“Possibly.”

Well, that was marginally more interesting he supposed, not only just. There had been several “possible” destinations listed already and they all turned out to be false positives. Still, it was better than a flat “no,” he supposed.

“Details, please.”

“The new course is arcing so as to pass by as many as three stars, depending on how long they maintain it. Any of those could be their true destination.”

“Or none of them,” Ivanth said flatly.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Alright. Record all three onto our records and continue pursuit.”

“On your order.”

On my order, indeed. Fly home you annoying pests, fly home so that I may return to my true duties.