Into the Darkness: Crimson Worlds Refugees I (12 page)

*  *  *

“No energy readings, no sign of any activity. It’s the same as in X18, sir.”

Steiner looked over toward the tactical officer and nodded. “Massive cities on both worlds…nothing but dead ruins. Untouched for millennia. It’s an amazing thing to see…” His voice was distracted, thoughtful. He tended to think of the First Imperium as monsters, enemies bent on destroying all of mankind. And that was true, at least of the remnants of the ancient civilization, the machines it had left behind.

But what of those who lived in these cities? Were they like us? Did they live, love, feel happiness…and pain? Would they have been our enemies? Or would they have sought peace and friendship?

There was no way to know the answers, and Steiner pushed the thoughts aside. This wasn’t the time or the place. Still, he felt frustrated. He wanted to go down to the surface, to walk through those haunted ruins, to know more about the enigmatic race that had left so deadly a legacy. Back in human space, the fighting against the First Imperium had focused on robotic legions and computer-controlled warships. But now they were moving deeper into that ancient domain, and the planets they were passing had once been home to millions of living beings…and from the look of the ruins, they hadn’t been much different than humans.

But they were exploring the galaxy when men’s ancestors were hunting with sharp sticks. What have they left behind, other than their mechanical servants? What knowledge is on these worlds, what science and technology that could teach us?

“Bring us between planets two and three, and then plot a course for the outer system.” Steiner knew he didn’t have time to stop, and certainly not to follow his urge and land on one of these worlds—but he could take a closer look as his ships went by. “All scanners on full. Let’s get what data we can about these planets.”

“Scanners on full, sir. We should be…” The tactical officer’s voice changed, his cool, professional tone replaced immediately by cold dread. “Captain, we’re picking up something in orbit around planet three, just coming around.” There was a short pause, and then the officer turned toward Steiner, his face white as a sheet. “It’s a Colossus, sir.”

Steiner felt the words hit him like a sledgehammer. The Colossus was the newest enemy ship type, one that hadn’t been encountered before the battles in X2. It was an enormous vessel, fifty time the mass of any ship mankind had ever constructed.

“Red alert,” Steiner snapped. “Let’s get everyone into the tanks. We’ve got to make a run for it. One of us has to get back and warn the fleet about…” His words trailed off as he stared down at his screen, watching the scanning data flowing in. It was indeed a First Imperium Colossus, a monster almost nineteen kilometers long, bristling with weapons. But it was also dead. Unmoving, cold. No detectable energy readings at all.

“Cancel that red alert…bring us to condition yellow.” Steiner was staring down at the screen, as the data was confirmed. Whatever condition the enemy ship was in, it was completely shut down.

“Take us closer. Three gees thrust. I want a visual.
Tyr
and
Woden
are to pull back toward the warp gate. If this is some sort of trap, they are to get back to X18 and report in full.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Steiner listened as the tactical officer relayed his commands. A few seconds later he felt the force of acceleration slam into him.
Vanir
was about to get a close up look at the biggest First Imperium ship mankind had yet encountered. Steiner had taken the necessary precautions just in case, but he didn’t think it was a trap. The First Imperium forces didn’t think that way, at least they never had before. If this ship was active, it would already be firing at his tiny vessel.

“Bring us in slow,” Steiner said.

He had seen many wrecked enemy ships during the war, but the long distance scanning data didn’t suggest any significant damage. Other than the lack of energy output, the vessel seemed completely intact. He had a feeling his people had stumbled on something intriguing…but that was only intuition. And if he was wrong, if that monster came to life, it wouldn’t take more than one shot to blown
Vanir
to atoms.

*  *  *

“It’s working, sir! Everything is running perfectly, within 2% of optimum across the board.”

“So it appears, Lieutenant,” Davies replied. “Let’s stay sharp and make sure it stays that way.”

Davies was standing in the center of the platform, his magnetic boots giving him a better footing as the platform swayed with the atmospheric currents. He was just far enough back from the huge intake vents to avoid behind sucked in himself. The refinery wasn’t going to win any awards for elegance or style, but the haphazard-looking setup was doing just what it was designed to do. And that was enough for Jerrold Davies.

It was loud, almost painful, even with the heavy insulation of his helmet. He suspected an unsuited man on the platform would go deaf almost immediately, though that was the definition of an academic argument. Anyone caught out there without protection would be killed by half a dozen things even more quickly. Davies wasn’t sure what would do the job first—cold, low pressure, radiation, suffocation, atmospheric toxicity—but he was sure it would be unpleasant, and he’d ordered his people to check and doublecheck their survival gear every time they came back on shift.

He looked up at the large shuttle hovering alongside the platform. Its thrusters and positioning jets were firing, its pilot working to keep it stable next to the refinery as its onboard tanks filled with the condensed gases being pumped out of Davies’ creation. It was a rough system, one whose crudeness would slow the refueling process. But the fleet had no large tankers. The capital ships and cruisers couldn’t maneuver this deep into the atmosphere, and there wasn’t time to build a large conduit reaching into orbit. So there was nothing to do but ferry the precious fuel one shuttle full at a time.

We’ll be lucky if we don’t lose any ships
, Davies thought.
Or if one of these shuttles doesn’t crash into the refinery
. Navigating in the gas giant’s atmosphere, through the turbulent winds and unpredictable clouds of ammonia, took serious piloting skills, and a single mistake could easily prove fatal.

Still, despite the dangers and the deficiencies of the setup, it was working well, pumping out fresh tritium and helium-3 and slowly refilling the fleet’s dwindling supply. It had taken a week to build the refinery, and it had been an amazing feat under the circumstances. Admiral Compton himself had sent his heartfelt congratulations. But now it would take another two weeks at least to top off the ships of the fleet. And Davies knew he had to keep his people razor sharp that entire time. All it would take was one engineer or pilot to become careless, and people would die. And if the refinery was damaged and needed to shut down, the fleet would be stuck here even longer. He didn’t doubt they were being pursued, that the enemy was searching for them. And every extra day spent in X18 increased the chances they would be found…and destroyed.

The noise backed off suddenly, as the refinery ceased pumping. Davies could see the shuttle’s crew climbing out onto the hull, moving to unfasten the conduits. Another full tank, he thought as he looked up and saw a small glint of light in the distance, the next shuttle beginning its approach.

He hadn’t calculated how many shuttles were required to fuel the fleet, but he knew it would take twelve or fifteen at least to fill the tanks of one of the Alliance
Yorktowns
. They were the biggest ships in the fleet, but the other battleships would still need eight or ten. Then there were cruisers, destroyers, frigates, freighters, attack ships—it would take hundreds of round trips to fully replenish the tanks of the fleet.

And I will be right here, monitoring every single one of them
. Davies knew he’d be dangerously strung out on stims long before the job was done, but he also knew there was no option. He didn’t trust anyone else to be careful enough, to stand there and remain vigilant…and ensure his ramshackle creation held up and did the job.

*  *  *

The huge ship filled the viewscreen, blocking out the planet below and the stars in the distance. Steiner had known its exact dimensions. The fleet had encountered its like in X2, though the behemoths had not yet engaged when the Alliance fleet escaped. But seeing numbers on a screen and actually looking at something looming before you were different things. He tried to imagine the power of a race that could build such things, and he felt a wave of despair, of hopelessness.
How can we hope to defeat them? Or even survive their wrath?

He fought back against the dark thoughts, reminding himself that mankind hadn’t done too badly fighting the First Imperium. But he knew that wasn’t the whole truth. The encounter in X2 had proven that humanity’s victories had been won against a small tithe of the enemy’s true strength. Indeed, if the forces that had been arrayed in X2 ever reached human space, man’s extinction was assured. Still, he found pride in the earlier victories helped sustain his own courage. On one level he knew he was fooling himself, but it worked nevertheless. After a fashion.

“Still no energy readings?”

“No, sir. The ship reads consistent with the background heat levels.” A short pause then:  “Wait…we are getting something. It’s very faint. But whatever it is, it’s not heating the ship or powering any system we can detect.”

“Could it be a containment system?” Steiner wondered out loud.

For all the time this thing has probably been here, could it still have antimatter supplies inside it? Still have a containment system operating, keeping the volatile fuel from contacting regular matter and annihilating?

“Launch a probe. I want a complete scan done.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Steiner couldn’t take his eyes off the viewscreen. He’d been fighting the First Imperium for three years, but this was the first time he’d had such a close look at one of their ships, or taken the time to think about the magnificence of their technology. There was an awesomeness to the vessel that affected him strangely. He imagined a race, not unlike mankind, developing through centuries of progress, mastering the secrets of the universe in a way men had just begun to do. No doubt the beings who created the First Imperium had once wandered the hills and plains of their own home world, mastering tools, learning to build villages, then cities. Did they have societies like ancient Greece and Rome? Were they religious? Did they fight massive wars among themselves as mankind had done? Harness the power of the atom…reach out to the stars…

He felt an odd desire, a wish to see the ancient race that built this magnificent vessel, to learn about them. There was a strange feeling of kinship, even as he despised and fought against their robot creations. He wondered what they looked like, how their culture compared to those of the Earth powers. Had they had kings? Or was their society egalitarian? If they had embraced democracy, had they handled it better than men had? Had they taken responsibility for their votes, for those they placed in positions of power? Or had corrupt and deceitful leaders caused as much damage as they had on Earth?

He realized his thoughts were strange. He understood he knew almost nothing about the beings who had founded the First Imperium, that all the thoughts running through his head were his own creations, mere suppositions based on almost no real data. But he found the mysterious vessel—and the thoughts it provoked—compelling nevertheless.

He pulled his attention back to the present. Whatever fascination he felt, he had work to do. His three ships had to explore the whole system, make sure there were no active enemy units hiding anywhere. And he needed to map out the warp gates. Admiral Compton had been very clear—he wanted incredibly detailed data on the gates, power readings, orientations in space…everything.
But I have to get word back about this ship…now.

“As soon as we get the probe data, transmit to
Tyr
. Captain Schwerin is to transit back into X18 and to deliver all data to Captain Duke.”

“Yes, sir.”

“
Woden
is to set a course for the outer system…and as soon as we have transmitted the probe data, set a course to join her. We’ve got lots of work to do here.”

But he still couldn’t take his eyes off the giant ship.

Chapter Seven

From the Personal Log of Terrance Compton

I must go to the conference room in a few moments. I have put this meeting off as long as I could, pushed the status quo as far as it will go. But I could not refuse the admirals, not without begging them to conspire behind my back. I am in command of the fleet, but my appointment was through the Grand Pact, mankind’s alliance against the First Imperium. Our current status is, admittedly, uncertain. Are we still in active service to that body? Are our old oaths binding, or are we in a new reality, one in which prior allegiances have become irrelevant? Indeed, my own intent not to seek a way home pushes us away from our status as a fleet of the Grand Pact and undermines the legitimacy of my authority. Or does it? My intent is to increase the distance from human space, to almost guarantee we will never see home again, but I do it to protect mankind. What could be truer to those oaths? What clearer duty for humanity’s alliance against the alien enemy? Luring the First Imperium forces from human-inhabited worlds is the purest embodiment of our duty to the Pact.

I realize such philosophical musings have little value. Justifications are pointless, old agreements meaningless. Men will do what they do…and that will decide the future. If I am to ensure we do not risk leading the enemy back home, I must maintain command, by whatever means necessary. I will try to persuade, to explain…but I know that will only take me so far. In the end I must be prepared. I must be certain how far I am willing to go. Am I prepared to use force? To assassinate rivals? To round up and imprison those who would seek to lead us back to Earth? Will I rule as a dictator, an autocrat who tolerates no opposition?