Battlespace (The Stars Aflame Book 1)

  BATTLESPACE

  Richard Tongue

  BATTLESPACE

  Copyright © 2018 by Richard Tongue, All Rights Reserved

  First Kindle Edition: October 2018

  Cover by Keith Draws

  With thanks to Ellen Clarke

  All characters and events portrayed within this eBook are fictitious; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Go, tell the Spartans, thou who passest by,

  That here obedient to their laws we lie.

  Stranger, go tell the men of Lacedaemon

  That we, who lie here, did as we were ordered.

  Stranger, bring the message to the Spartans that here

  We remain, obedient to their orders.

  Oh foreigner, tell the Lacedaemonians

  That here we lie, obeying their words.

  Go, tell the Spartans, passerby,

  that here by Spartan law we lie.

  Simonides of Ceos

  Prologue

  Lieutenant Jennifer Novak sprinted down the corridor, tugging her uniform jacket into place, almost colliding with a pair of maintenance technicians as she dived into the elevator, the doors slamming shut to send her hurtling to the bridge. Warning lights overhead flashed amber, her ship, Vanguard, hastening to alert status before their return to normal space.

  Everything about this mission had been rushed. Yesterday, they’d been on their way back from a routine patrol, a short shakedown cruise to test a series of systems updates, until a classified signal had been received by Captain Wallace. Now they were racing towards Ross 248, a lightly-settled system on the far frontiers of the Terrestrial Commonwealth, at the extreme end of the tangled wormhole network that connected the myriad systems of humanity.

  The doors slid open, and she stepped out onto the bridge. The impatient Wallace glared at her as she made her way to her station, before turning back to his Executive Officer, Commander Sanchez. Novak settled into her station, next to the Weapons officer, Lieutenant Ross, who threw her a quick smile before returning to his work.

  It might have been better if she wasn’t so new to the ship herself. Ten years in the Navy, and this was her first deep-space assignment, her first time away from Sol. She’d been lucky to remain in the fleet at all after the last round of personnel cuts, and looked down at the green flash on her uniform with a grimace. She’d been forced to transfer from Line to Staff, simply to remain in uniform, and her posting as Science Officer was almost the definition of a career dead-end. Fifteen years ago, when she was trying for a slot in the Academy, they’d been talking about a new series of long-range exploratory missions. None of them had materialized. Just the same patrols, endlessly looping around the frontier, only one brief conflict since the Consolidation Wars, forty years ago.

  Now, perhaps, things would be different. She looked across at Ross’s panel, her eyes widening as she saw that he was bringing the weapons on-line, preparing targeting solutions. Aside from test flights and exercises, no ship had fired its cannons in anger for more than a decade. Maybe something big was happening. Ross glanced across at her, his smile growing wider. It must have been frustrating to be a tactical specialist in peacetime.

  “Now hear this,” Sanchez said, holding a microphone in her head. “Now hear this. Stand by for the Captain. Stand by for the Captain.”

  “Captain speaking,” Wallace added. “I’m sorry we had to leave DX Cancri in such a hurry, and I’m sorrier that I wasn’t able to brief you on our mission until now. Two weeks ago, we lost contact with our outpost at Chi Draconis. A merchantman was already en route, and that vessel vanished four days later. No contact, no sign of trouble at last report. A task force under Admiral Singh was being assembled to investigate, the speculation suggesting instability in the local star.”

  “That theory was blown out of the water about thirty-six hours ago. We’ve now lost contact with Gagarin Station, out at Ross 248, and they managed to send a distress signal just before contact was broken. Vanguard is the closest ship, and as a result, the assignment has fallen to us. I don’t know what we’re going to find out there, but I do know that at last report, more than five thousand people lived and worked on that station, or on the planet below. They’re counting on you to do your best, and so am I. Remember your training, do your duty, and you will fulfill those expectations. That is all.”

  “Good God,” Cunningham, the young Ensign at the helm, said. “Five thousand people…”

  “Mind your station,” Sanchez said. “We don’t know what happened. Not yet. Let’s not waste time in idle speculation. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Lieutenant,” Wallace said, moving to the science station, “I’m going to be counting on you and your sensor crews to do the best job you can. I want a full report on the situation in this system, as soon as we emerge from the wormhole exit.” Looking up at the countdown clock, he added, “That’ll be in about two minutes.”

  “We’re ready, sir,” Novak said, forcing her voice to show confidence she didn’t feel.

  “I recommend going to battle stations, sir,” Ross suggested.

  “Not yet, Lieutenant. Not until we know what we’re facing. We’re thirty-six hours late, remember. It’s likely that whatever has happened is over and gone. Our job is to pick up the pieces and stop it from happening again.” Clapping his hand on the young officer’s shoulder, he added, “But stand by your guns, son, just in case.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ross said, shaking his head as Wallace walked away. He leaned over to Novak, and said, “That’s a mistake, Jen. If there’s someone waiting for us on the far side, we’ll be caught cold. It could take five, six minutes for us to get to action stations.”

  “The Captain knows what he’s doing,” Novak replied.

  “Does he? When was the last time he fought a war?”

  “Emergence in one minute,” Sanchez said. “All stations prepare for otherspace exit.”

  Novak turned back to her station, throwing controls and bringing the sensor network online, sending quick commands to her crews on the lower decks, assigning each an area of space to cover. She caught a quick glimpse of the strange otherspace surrounding the ship, then killed the panel, too late to stop herself suffering a sharp headache. Wormhole technology had been inherited, an adaptation of an artificial wormhole located at Triton during the early days of deep space exploration. More than a century later, and humanity still didn’t really know how it worked, or why. Just that they’d unlocked the universe, allowing the first starships to leap across the void.

  “Emergence,” the shaky voice of Cunningham reported, and the stars flickered into life on the screen, comfortable familiarity once again. Novak smiled, running her sensor checks, bringing the planet below into relief on her station. Her eyes widened as she worked controls, desperately hoping that there was some mistake, some error. Gagarin Station orbited a cold, icy world, with a strange biosphere that researchers had been studying for decades, seeking to unlock the secret of life.

  Vanguard had emerged over a nightmare, a world torn and rent, volcanic rifts hundreds of miles long torn across its surface, savage, jagged wounds that threatened to tear the planet apart. Outgassing was still taking place, fountains of lava hurling raw material into the sky, and a faint ring of debris was all that remained of Gagarin Station. A station that had formerly housed thousands of people, reduced to rubble. She started to focus her attention on the asteroid belt, a dense field that surrounded the planet, trying to get some confirmation that they’d arrived at the right world.

  “Captain,” she said, “I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Nice and clear, Lieutenant,” Wallace said.<
br />
  Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Boreas has been completely destroyed, sir. All trace of life is gone, and the world has damn near been reduced to rubble. I’m reading debris in orbit consistent with the mass of Gagarin Station.”

  “No signals from anywhere in the system,” Sanchez added. “Are you sure, Lieutenant?”

  “Double-checked, Commander. My sensors are working. I don’t quite know how to explain this. Even the greatest volcanic eruption ever recorded could not have caused this level of destruction.” Shaking her head, she added, “There’s nothing in the archives that even comes close to this.”

  “Running full diagnostic on the sensors,” Sanchez said, causing Novak to grimace in frustration. Her readings were correct. Impossible to comprehend, impossible to understand, but correct. Something terrible had happened here, and she couldn’t find any explanation why. She looked at the asteroids again, then spotted an anomaly. The system had been very well charted, every sizable rock tracked. Somehow, there seemed to be an extra one. At first, she ruled it out. Just debris from the surface.

  Then she focused the sensors on it, and her mouth dropped as the results streamed in. Power readings. Signs of a reactor hundreds, thousands of times larger than anything she’d ever seen before. It was impossible, but there it was. A starship, dozens of miles across, sitting silently in orbit.

  “Sir, artificial structure in orbit. Distance, thirty-two thousand miles.”

  “Size?”

  “Fifteen miles and change, sir.” Before he could reply, she said, “Captain, I know what it sounds like, but the structure is there, and it’s definitely artificial.” She looked over the image, then said, “I’m detecting dozens of protrusions from the surface, all of them with heat signatures consisted with power conduits. Huge ones. And what has to be some sort of engine complex.”

  “My God, she’s right,” Sanchez replied, her face pale. “That’s a ship. That’s a god-damned starship! And one with the power to tear an entire planet to pieces?”

  “Battle stations,” Wallace ordered. “Set Alert Condition One throughout the ship. Lieutenant Ross, I think we’re going to get to try out those guns of yours after all. We’re going to attack.”

  “Captain,” Sanchez said, “We’re talking about a starship as big as….”

  “Our maser cannons can generate a hell of a lot of energy, Commander, and we must have an advantage in terms of speed and acceleration. That thing out there has already destroyed two worlds. It must be responsible for what happened at Chi Draconis. There are a dozen more planets easily accessible from this part of the wormhole network, hundreds of thousands of lives at stake. I will not sit idly by while they are placed at hazard. Helm, intercept course, full speed, and plot evasive trajectory.”

  “Aye, sir,” Cunningham replied, tentatively working her controls. “Full acceleration, now.”

  “Captain, I must formally protest this decision,” Sanchez warned.

  “Noted, Commander. Noted. Novak, I want all the sensor data you can give me. Ross, let me know when you have a firing solution.”

  “Aye, sir,” Ross replied. Turning to Novak as his fingers danced across the controls, he added, “Just my luck. I get to fight my first battle in a system with my name on it. That’s going to confuse the hell out of the historians.”

  “Let’s just hope someone’s around to write about this,” she replied. “Transferring sensor feeds to your station, Phil. I can’t find any obvious weak spots, but I guess trying for the tendrils is the best idea. They’ve got to be some sort of weapons system. If we take them out, then we might just have a chance of pulling this off.”

  “Agreed,” he said. “Weapons locking on target.”

  “Watch your course, helm,” Wallace warned. “Take us right down their throats.”

  “Captain,” Novak warned, “I’m reading increased energy readings from the enemy ship. Rising rapidly. I’d say they’re powering up for an attack.” Reaching for a control to throw in greater magnification, she added, “And the ship’s turning towards us. Pretty quickly, as well.”

  “Good attitude control,” Wallace said, nodding in response. “Keep an eye on that, Ross. I don’t want to miss with a single shot. You got that? Not one shot.”

  “Don’t worry, skipper. It’s not exactly a small target.” Throwing a lever, he added, “Main battery has a firing solution, locked into the computers. Ready to fire on your command.”

  “Lieutenant, you may fire at will.”

  “Music to my ears, sir,” he replied, the smile spreading across his face.

  “Still no signals from the surface,” the communications technician reported. “Nothing at all, from anywhere in the system.”

  “Try and raise that ship out there,” Wallace ordered. “Standard First Contact protocols.”

  “No trace, sir. No contacts at all.”

  “Then we take them down,” Wallace said, moving to stand behind the helm. “Range?”

  “Ten thousand miles, sir, closing.”

  “Enemy ship is on the move,” Novak reported. “God, sir, she’s matching our acceleration and then some! I think she’s actually faster than we are!”

  “That’s impossible, Lieutenant. No ship of that size could move…”

  “I tell you it is, sir!”

  “Damn it, Bob, break off!” Sanchez said, her voice bordering on panic. “That ship is too damned big for us, and you’re just going to get us all killed!”

  “Firing in fifteen seconds, sir,” Ross replied. “Firing solution firm. I’m going for one of their protuberances. Stand by for a hell of an explosion.”

  “Energy spike!” Novak yelled, readings from the enemy ship leaping off the chart. She caught a brief glimpse of a bolt of crimson light, racing towards them, and the world briefly went dark, the ship lurching to the side, hull groaning under the force of the impact. Every warning alarm sounded at once, the air heavy with ozone, heralding electrical fires somewhere overhead. The emergency lights flickered on, then went dark once more.

  Before anyone could say a word, a second bolt hammered into them, this time sending the ship flying forward, throwing the bridge crew across the deck as the gravity compensators failed. She tumbled through the air, slamming into something soft, belatedly realizing that the body of Commander Sanchez had cushioned her fall. She heard a loud crack from her left, and looked to see Ross lying on the floor, his head bent back at an impossible angle, blood pooling under him. She staggered to her feet, the whine of strained deck plates filling the air, sparks shooting from the ceiling.

  “Anyone here?” she yelled.

  “Ma’am?” Cunningham said. “The Captain.”

  “Dead?”

  “He went head-first into the console, Lieutenant. He’s dead.”

  She looked around the bridge, the crew dead at their posts or scattered around the deck. Overhead, she heard an ear-piercing snap, and moved just in time to avoid the ceiling superstructure crashing onto her, the beam slamming into the floor just to one side. The sirens abruptly died, power to the warning systems failing, and all she could hear was a low whine, slowly growing.

  Air leak.

  She reached for a control, not knowing whether any of the systems were working, all of the telltales cold and dark, and said, “This is the Bridge. Abandon ship. Abandon ship. All hands to escape pods, on the double. On the double.” Looking at Cunningham, she added, “That includes us, Ensign.”

  “The others…”

  “There’s nothing we can do for them now, and our deaths won’t bring them back to life.” She moved to the exit, then said, “Move it, Ensign! That’s an order!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, following her to the hatch. She pulled it open, sliding down the short tunnel beyond, dropping into an escape pod. Crossing her fingers, she threw the control that she hoped would activate the systems, almost surprised when they snapped on without protest, a sea of green lights flickering into life as the computers booted up. From overhe
ad, back up the tunnel, she heard another loud whine, then the low boom of an explosion, somewhere aft.

  “Come on, Ensign!” she yelled. “We’re leaving!”

  Cunningham slid into the pod, his boots brushing against her shoulder, then reached up to close the hatch, slamming it shut and throwing the lever to lock it in position. She felt the force of acceleration kicking on her, pressing her to the bottom of the pod as it tumbled clear of the ship, floating free, the thrusters firing to stabilize the ship as it cleared Vanguard’s hull. Before the distress beacon could activate, she reached for an override, killing the onboard systems.

  “What are you doing, ma’am? Life support’s barely started, and…”

  “I’m too young to die, Ensign. That thing could wipe us out of space in a heartbeat if it wanted.”

  She turned to the small observation port, looking at the battered lines of Vanguard, the hull burned and pitted, fountains of air leaking from a hundred hull breaches, sending the ship rocking back and forth as though it was at anchor. A few more points of light emerged, other escape pods fleeing the destruction, but before any others could follow, a final, immense pulse of crimson light hammered into the ship, the resultant explosion tearing it apart, leaving only a cloud of debris where, seconds before, one of the Commonwealth’s proudest warships had been.

  “Now what?” Cunningham asked, his face a mask of horror.

  “We wait,” Novak replied. “We wait, and we pray.”

  Chapter 1

  Michael Scott, once Captain Michael Scott, looked up at his own face, the interview he’d recorded that afternoon playing over the near-empty bar, the sound muted. It didn’t matter. The words had hardly changed in five years. The same basic spiel, warning of the consequences of the ever-smaller appropriations for the Navy, the cutbacks that had ripped the heart out of a once-proud fleet.

  When he’d first been forced into resignation, he’d appeared on major channels, watched by millions of people. There’d even been talk of a Senate run, though he’d done his absolute best to persuade his would-be backers that he was the wrong choice for the job. He’d settled in as an all-purpose defence pundit, but gradually, the audiences had slipped away. Now it was public access broadcasting, smaller and smaller channels, fewer and fewer people watching, fewer still paying any attention to his words.