Homeworld (Odyssey One) (57 page)

N.A.C.S.
ODYSSEY

THE BRIDGE OF the
Odyssey
was quiet, a skeleton crew being one of the reasons and the angry red rash that was showing on the displays being another. Those who came in glanced at the screen, maybe asked someone what it was showing, and then looked to where the captain was sitting and working in silence. That was usually the last thing they’d say. Eric wasn’t encouraging the quiet, but it suited both his needs and his mood, so he said nothing either way.

There was a time for talk and a time for action, but this was a time for planning.

He had the approach vector for the incoming ships, though there were so many of them that it almost didn’t seem to matter. It looked like they were just going to literally envelop the solar system, though he knew that was just stupid. The tachyons leading the fleet were spreading out, making it look like the source of the bowshock signal was as much as a light-year or more across. In reality, Eric guessed it was more on the order of a couple light-months, which was still pretty insane.

What the readings were also saying, though, was that the signal was tightening up. That meant that the ships were
beginning to form up as they approached, and he expected that they’d be in a much tighter pack once they got to the system.

I wonder if they’re flying so spread out because their drives interfere with each other at full power?

One thing that Eric knew, from experience, was that manipulations to space-time tended to be cumulative. It was one of the first things you learned when flying a CM-powered fighter in tight formation. You had to adjust for the warping of your wingman’s CM; otherwise you’d hop your own fighter right out of position. He’d never run into the problem in
space
, even when flying among the powerhouses of the Drasin and Priminae, but he’d also never tried flying in formation with as many starships.

His questioning had a major effect on his attempts to plan. He needed to know where they were going to come into the system and just how tightly packed the enemy ships were going to be. The sheer lack of detail on enemy capabilities was maddening, but it was a problem he was going to have to work around as best he could.

Even Captain Kian didn’t have any fast answers for him on the subject. No one in the Priminae civilization had ever tried flying that many ships in such relative close proximity before. There just wasn’t any experimental data available, and certainly nothing to draw any real guesses from. He’d thrown the problem down to his own engineering team as well as out into the wild via some contacts in the research and development division of the Confederacy, but any answers would probably come far too late to be of any value.

I suppose it’s a good thing that the Marines taught me to work with what I had instead of what I needed,
Eric thought dryly as he ran a few more calculations through the computer.
Otherwise this job would be frustrating and impossible instead of just impossible.

“Captain?”

Eric glanced up. “Yes, Commander?”

Roberts’s eyes flicked to one side, then the other, drawing Eric’s gaze with them. It didn’t take a genius to see what he was looking at, or why, so Eric just shrugged lightly.

“Rumors are starting to circulate, sir.”

“Only thing besides tachyons that are faster than light,” Eric said with a smile, forced though it might be.

“There’s truth there, sir.” Roberts returned the smile. “But it’s starting to affect morale.”

Eric nodded, idly noting that several people were leaning back in their chairs and straining to hear what was being said. He raised his voice just enough for it to carry in the acoustics of the bridge.

“You’ve seen the numbers as well as I have, Commander. The rumors, whatever they are, can’t possibly be as bad as the real deal,” Eric said, taking a certain perverse pleasure in the shock on Roberts’s face. It was clear that the Commander had expected him to downplay the odds, but Eric hoped none of his people were stupid enough to believe that.

This isn’t a time to treat them like children, Commander,
he thought idly.

“Uh, um, yes sir,” Roberts stammered slightly, clearly confused.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Commander. The crew knows to take this as the opportunity it is.”

“Opportunity, sir?”

Eric smiled, genuinely this time. “I don’t know about you, Commander, but I’ve always wanted a shot at planning the defense of the Alamo.”

Jason Roberts was initially taken aback by the tone and words, but slowly Eric saw a shift in the Commander’s expression. In a few seconds, he too was smiling, and it clearly wasn’t forced, as he nodded in agreement.

“Right you are, sir. I should have thought of that myself.”

Roberts settled back in his own station, expression both a little contemplative and a little feral. It was an odd mix, Eric thought, something you didn’t see very often on anyone’s face. If there was ever a time for that peculiar mixture of emotions, however, it was without a doubt here and now.

“Captain,” Winger said from the other side of the Bridge, “the
Weifang
, she’s warping space!”

“Really?” Eric said, nodding. “That’s good to know.”

“I’m intercepting comm chatter between them and the Block space control. They’re being ordered to stand down.
Weifang
is disregarding. Captain, they’re pulling out of orbit.”

“Not our concern,” Eric said. “Monitor and log all comm chatter to and from the
Weifang
in case we’re asked for it.”

“Yes sir.
Weifang
is now accelerating….” Winger’s eyes widened. “One hundred gravities and climbing. She’s heading out-system, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Eric said as he got up, glancing at the latest ETA for the fleet’s arrival.

T-minus thirty-six hours and counting.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Imperial Destroyer
Demigod
, the Hive Facility

“THE
IMMORTAL
IS breaking up, Commander.”

Ivanth could see that, but he didn’t say anything for fear of taking out his impotent frustrations on the man. His fists clenched and unclenched reflexively, his eyes locked on the screens that showed the Imperial destroyer as it was slowly picked apart from the inside out by renegade drones.

They’d picked off those they could from the hull, but it had already been too late. The drone soldiers were already inside the ship, and the crew of the
Immortal
had been unable to eliminate them in time. The ship underwent explosive decompression multiple times as the drones bored through one locked door after another.

The men and women on board never had a chance.

“Are there any survivors?” he asked finally, knowing the answer but having to ask anyway.

“No, Commander.”

Ivanth nodded and turned his back to the screen. “Warp space, reverse course. Take us out of the Hive. Maintain active scans until we’re sure that we are clear.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The
Demigod
backed slowly away from the dead ship, pivoting smoothly in space before reversing its warp and accelerating away from the scene at a steady rate of acceleration. Behind them, the former pride of the Imperial fleet continued to break up as small explosions tore through the ship and left it in scraps.

Those pieces too were soon grabbed by active drones, chewed up, and used to produce new generations of the beasts that slew the
Immortal
.

Ivanth still didn’t know what in the singular abyss happened to the Hive and the other ships, but it was clear that somehow they had lost control of the drones. It shouldn’t have been possible. He knew the core programming they’d implemented, and it was flawless. Under absolutely no circumstances should they have been able to turn on Imperial ships.

This all happened when we located that
alien
ship and one of their worlds. Was it something about them? Or did something happen here at the same time?

“Than Gia,” he called out softly, his voice pitched so the officer could just hear him.

“Yes, Commander?” Gia put down what she was doing and approached.

“Have the records from the incident recorder been loaded into the archives?”

“Yes, Commander. Shall I send you a direct?”

“No. Thank you, Than,” he said. “I will find it myself.”

The incident recorder was his last hope of learning what had happened or, more important, why it had happened. The Prohuer’s ship had been in the Hive, along with a complete battle group. If they’d all met the same fate, then the Imperial mission in this arm of the galaxy was
over
.

He
really
didn’t want to be the officer who returned to the Emperor and told them that an entire battleground had been lost to their own drones. Particularly not if he had to report that said drones were now loose and running wild across the galactic arm.

I hope that there is something in this mess that will provide answers.