Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2)
Read Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2) Online
Authors: B. V. Larson
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Alien Invasion, #Colonization, #Exploration, #First Contact, #Galactic Empire, #Genetic Engineering, #Hard Science Fiction, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Space Opera, #Space Exploration
SF Books by B. V. Larson:
The Undying Mercenaries Series:
STAR FORCE SERIES:
Army of One
(Novella)
OTHER SF BOOKS:
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BVLarson.com
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Copyright © 2015 by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
-1-
Defiant
was a captured battle cruiser. She was the only ship of any real size in Star Guard. Shaped like the head of an axe and thickly armored, she dwarfed the rest of the vessels in the fleet. While dry-docked at Araminta Station she took up several berths, and special accommodations had been built just to house her.
I’d spent the last eleven months refitting the monstrous warship while she floated some two hundred and fifty kilometers above the Earth’s surface. A year after her capture, we were close to completing the task. We’d installed our own control systems, new weapons and improved quarters for our personnel.
It was early in the morning, just before breakfast, when disaster struck.
“We have a problem, sir,” Rumbold told me in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.
I wheeled away from the mirror in my quarters to stare at him. There were streaks of shaving cream on my face, but I ignored them.
“How did you get in here, Rumbold?” I asked.
“Perhaps you left the door unlocked…?” he suggested. His florid face attempted a flickering smile.
“No, I didn’t. But let’s forget about that. What are you talking about? What’s the problem?”
His puffy cheeks twitched. “I’m talking about the ship, sir.
Defiant
.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. I turned back to my mirror. All four corners of the reflective glass displayed shifting images and data. A ghosting effect allowed the surface to play back my own face at the same time it showed information streams from all over the ship.
I touched the upper left corner of the mirror, expanding the data feed coming from engineering. They were installing stabilizers down there. The ship’s rough ride was legendary, and we’d worked hard to make it more comfortable. While the Betas who’d designed and built this ship didn’t seem to be adversely affected, normal humans born on Earth were often driven to unconsciousness under heavy acceleration.
Positive data ran in ribbons along the edges of the display I’d activated, and the central graphic was depicted entirely in green. After a quick perusal, I determined there was no hint of a delay in the project.
Next, I tapped the upper right corner of the mirror. I was immediately provided with a live feed and watched as supplies were loaded into
Defiant
’s hold. Every conceivable foodstuff, tool and spare part had already been procured, emplaced and secured. Personal effects of crewmen and emergency equipment were up next. Again, there was no problem that I could detect.
Rumbold cleared his throat. “You know, sir, I think you’re the only man aboard who shaves with a razor and foam. Even I use a consumptive nanite gel. Much faster and cleaner, you know.”
“You know I’m a traditionalist, Rumbold. The feel of tiny robots crawling over my face is disturbing. The refreshing nature of water and soap—you should try it sometime.”
I touched the third corner. The mirror instantly displayed the ship’s command deck, which had been gutted and retooled. Dozens of new instruments hung from every surface. All seemed operational. While I perused the data, I tidied up my shave one-handed.
The fourth sub-screen displayed armament. Missiles choked the magazines. Heavy particle cannons were mounted all along the hull, connected like Christmas ornaments by strings of heavy cable.
I stopped and cocked my head askew. “I’m not seeing the problem, Rumbold,” I said.
“Right sir… uh, I mean… no sir.”
I turned to face him fully. He was an oldster, a veteran of Earth’s navy. His life had been extended to a hundred and sixty years. Despite this, he usually managed to be quick-witted and even cagey at times. I was tired of his hinting around.
“Well spit it out Chief, you’ve got us both looking foolish!”
He wrung his cap, which was in his sweating hands.
“It’s the bridge-drive,” he blurted. “The engineers say it’s inoperable.”
I could tell he hadn’t wanted to tell me, but I respected that he’d spoken a painful truth. Rumbold was a poor diplomat, at least when he was bringing bad news to me. The bearing of ill-tidings to a superior officer was clearly not on this man’s lengthy list of skills.
His statement, however, surprised me. If I’d been forced to guess, I would have thought he’d tell me the stabilizers wouldn’t interface with the navigational computer, or that the Earth-made missiles weren’t going to fire properly from the Beta-built tubes. We’d had several mishaps during testing of all these systems.
“Well,” I said, “we haven’t really tested the bridge-drive yet. Perhaps when we get out there—”
Rumbold was shaking his head. “No sir. That’s not going to happen. The engineers are certain. They say it has to do with the nav computer. The ship’s star map memory was wiped, remember? They say we can’t jump without a clear, valid destination loaded in. Without that data…”
“Ah-ha!” I boomed. “I see it all now, Rumbold. You don’t have to worry any further.”
“I don’t, sir?” he asked in confusion.
“Not at all. You see, the engineers have finally figured out that we’re going to have to make a blind jump into an unknown hyperspace when we engage the bridge-drive. That’s entirely as expected. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Really? They were quite insistent—”
I’d already placed a hand on his shoulder and begun steering him out the door he’d snuck into moments earlier.
“Fear not, Rumbold. They’ve got the shivers, nothing more. Engineers don’t like the unknown. Who does? Their worries are unfounded. We’ll fly this ship wherever we want to with Zye’s help. Go back and tell them that for me, will you?”
“Yes, Captain…”
I propelled him out the door and into the passage. He cranked his head around to look at me dubiously.
“And Rumbold,” I said sternly, “tell them not to talk you into bringing me their bad news the next time they think they have some. That sort of tactic is undignified and unprofessional.”
“I’ll tell them that, Captain.”
Rumbold hurried away down the long, curving passage, and I closed the door thoughtfully.
As I polished every detail of my kit until it shined, there came a timid tapping on the door.
I strode to it and caused it to dissolve.
A trio of engineering people stood there before me. The tallest was a young woman with tight, twisted lips. She was clearly their leader. The other two were squatty fellows who hung back in the passageway despite the fact there was nowhere to hide.
“Commander O’Donnell,” I said, nodding to the leader. “I trust you’re here with good news?”
“I’m afraid I’m not, Captain. We
can’t
fly this ship. At least, we can’t fly her out of this star system.”
“And can you tell me why not?” I boomed, raising my voice suddenly. Despite my volume, my tone was still controlled rather than angry.
She winced a little. “Because we don’t know where we’re going. You can’t engage the—”
“Wrong,” I interrupted. “I fully intend to engage the drive without setting all the variables. That’s how ships like this one explore the cosmos.”
“In
theory
, Captain,” she admitted, “but as a practical matter, the ship only has the ability to detect the existence of an ER bridge—not where that bridge goes. When we get to the end of the hyperspace tube, we might be sucked into a black hole, or irradiated to death by a massive blue star. The possibilities are limitless!”
I stared at her for a moment, then smiled.
“Look,” I said, “the admiralty has given me a mandate. I’m to take this ship to a new system and explore the place. I intend to carry out their orders. If you—”
“I’d like to transfer out, sir,” she said suddenly, stiffly. “I didn’t sign on for suicide.”
“You are, of course, free to do so.”
I shut the door in their faces by turning it into a solid. The air seemed to transform into a wall in less than a second.
The trio outside in the passage wasn’t happy, but I didn’t care. This ship had to fly.
Irritated, I allowed them an appropriate length of time to slink away. Using those moments, I considered the difference between the careful and the spineless, as well as their near equal association to number-jockeys.
Once I thought they must be gone, I burst into the passageway myself and headed up the empty passage toward the command deck.
Before I got there, my com implant began buzzing. Stopping in mid-step, I activated it, and a vid began to play on my retina.
An admiral was superimposed upon the passageway as if he stood in front of me.
“Admiral Halsey,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m very busy, sir, if you don’t mind—”
“Sparhawk, your entire engineering staff has just requested transfer! Did you know about this?”
“Commander O’Donnell did hint that she—”
“This is unacceptable,” Halsey complained. “I can’t reassign new people to
Defiant
. Not at this late date. You’re about to fly, man. You know that, don’t you?”
“That is my intention.”
“Without your top engineers?”
“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I approve of their transfer requests,” I said. “I don’t.”
“Ah,” Halsey said. “I get it. You sent your whiny babies on up the line to me, is that it? Well done. I’ll handle them.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
His image faded from my vision. Less than a minute later I took my seat in the central chair, which was located on a raised portion of the command deck. The three central seats used spinning gyroscopic systems to orient the occupants in whatever direction was required during maneuvers. I hoped we wouldn’t have to engage that feature anytime again soon as the results could be nauseating.
I spent the next half-hour going through checklists and testing every piece of equipment on the command deck. Much of it was new or had been upgraded. Many of the computer systems had been replaced with human-standard systems that were easier for my crew to operate.
This made everyone aboard happy except for a single individual.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Zye said, coming to loom over my chair.
I’d had the engineers reconstruct my seat so that it no longer dwarfed me. Unfortunately, Zye still did.
She was a woman—of a sort. Her people were known as Betas. They were a clone race, and they were all physically identical to one another. Designed to survive on a hostile high-gravity world, they were universally made up of large, powerful females. They were attractive with Asian features, but daunting to look upon due to the fact they stood nearly two meters tall. There were reportedly a few males living on their homeworld, but I’d never met one.
Beta minds, unlike their bodies, weren’t all the same. As I understood it, there were three primary types of Beta. Most were simple clones. They were unimaginative and made excellent soldiers. One in a thousand were known as Alphas, more intelligent and varied of talent.
But then… there were the Rogues.
Zye was a Rogue. In attempting to create a superior Alpha, the cloning vats had tried a mutation in the genes controlling her neurological structure. As was often the case, Zye’s mutation had been judged to be unproductive. She’d been scheduled for termination when we’d rescued her, and she’d since joined my crew.
“What is it, Zye?” I asked her.
“I don’t like the new control boards. My fingers are too large for them. My touch—I’m constantly tapping on the wrong thing.”
“Fortunately,” I said, “your original station has been preserved. From there, you can access all the operational systems you’ve been assigned to.”
She looked annoyed. “I would like full access to
every
system. Perhaps you could allow me to remotely log in to other stations from mine?”
She’d touched upon the problem. Zye was a hacker of some skill. She’d been instrumental in getting
Defiant
to obey us initially, but now those special talents weren’t necessary. She’d been corralled by the techs and given restrictions. Naturally, she found this upsetting.
“I’ll see what I can do about raising your priority level a notch,” I promised.
“You’ll see what you can do? Why not just order this thing done?”
“I’ll talk to Commander O’Donnell about it.”
Zye’s face tightened. She wasn’t a naturally expressive person, but when you got to know her, you could read her emotions. I knew immediately she didn’t like Commander O’Donnell.
“I hate that engineer, and she hates me,” she stated flatly. “I know that you’re too smart for this to be an accident. Therefore, I understand. You wish me to be diminished and castigated. I must accept your disapproval.”
“Zye—”
“No need to apologize, Captain!” she said quickly. “It would only further embarrass both of us.”
She wheeled and stalked off to her station. I looked after her, frowning.
The truth was Zye was right. Commander O’Donnell
had
been the one to initially propose implementing the new permission levels. O’Donnell had objected to Zye’s unprecedented access as a junior officer—especially since she was a colonist. The idea that a Beta had the power to get into all of the ship’s central systems seemed preposterous to the techs.