Test of Mettle (A Captain's Crucible Book 2) (10 page)

With a resigned sigh she stepped inside.

She found herself in a broad, though low compartment: the overdeck was only a few inches above her head. The windowless bulkheads continued to glow with those blue filaments, providing light. She advanced into the lifeless living space, taking a wide detour past an area that had obviously served as a common latrine.

When she reached the far side of the compartment, she sat against the bulkhead and slumped. She removed her gloves and placed them on the deck beside her helmet.

She rested a hand on the belly region of her torso assembly. The depression was going to come soon, she knew. How could it not, given her current circumstances? She only hoped she could get through it on her own.

But she wasn’t alone, not really.

“It’s just you and me now, Eugene,” she said, fighting back the tears.

B
arrick was escorted deeper into the alien vessel by the darkness-enveloped figures. They eventually brought him to an airlock and shoved him inside.

The darkness nearest him transmitted a lattice of three dimensional points of light into his mind. The dots moved, becoming first a vaguely humanoid shape, then shrinking into a thin vertical line before expanding into a sweeping series of outward moving vectors. It was almost like watching the visual representation of a sound wave, except in three dimensions. Those mental projections were how the aliens communicated, of course. Barrick interpreted the changing point cloud to mean:
You will wait here.

The outer hatch closed behind him. The yellow fumes vacated and the inner hatch opened. He stepped into a compartment whose bulkheads were lit by the same glowing blue filaments that dominated the rest of the ship.

The place resembled a human sick bay: empty operating tables lined either side. Robotic tentacles dangled down above each station, ready to dissect whatever living samples were provided. Smaller robots on spiderlike limbs resided next to some of the tables. The telescoping appendages connected to their torsos reminded him of the surgical weaver robots humanity employed. 

Two giant, folded robotic arms lurked above. Connected to a rail system built into the overdeck, the arms were composed of black metal. As he advanced into the compartment, those arms shadowed his movements so that they remained directly above, ready to strap him to an operating table should he attempt something their programming did not allow.

According to the aReal built into his faceplate, the air was breathable, so he removed the helmet, electing to conserve his precious oxygen while he could.

Though he could not yet see him, the enemy of humanity was present, Barrick knew. Waiting, watching him even then.

“I was wondering when they would bring another,” a voice rang out from across the compartment.

Barrick paused. He had been dreading that moment. He wasn’t powerful enough to face the enemy, not yet. While he had learned to shield himself from the aliens, he was uncertain he could protect his mind from the current threat. And unfortunately he wouldn’t be able to destroy the creature, not with what was currently available to him.

“Hello.” A man stepped from the shadows. “I am
Zhidao Zhe
.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You are a telepath. How convenient.”

Barrick felt the wave of psychic attacks then, and dropped to his knees.

J
ONATHAN STARED AT the tactical display. The enemy fighters hadn’t moved from their position in high orbit, and kept the same relative distance from the task group. The main alien ship hadn’t budged from its geosynchronous orbit, either. A stalemate, then. The aliens were waiting to see what the captain’s next move would be.

At least the telemetry drone had determined there were indeed no other ships in orbit. That didn’t rule-out hidden ships planet-side, however.

He tapped in the chief weapons engineer.

“Tell me you have some good news, Lieutenant,” Jonathan said to the video image of the weapons engineer when he appeared.

“No good news here,” Harv said. “We’re still working on reverse engineering the alien fighter. I think we’re close to figuring out how it’s powered, but I’ve thought that several times before, only to be disappointed. You’d be well within your rights to pass the thing over to the scientists, along with all the data we’ve gleaned so far. In fact, my overworked team would probably be relieved.”

“No. I said I’d give you one last week to work on it. And you still have three days. Get to it. Oh, and you’ve noticed our current situation, presumably?”

“How could I miss it?” Harv said. “I know I know, you’re counting on us now more than anything.” The chief sighed. “Three days. We won’t let you down. Probably.”

In truth, even after the three days came and went, Jonathan planned to leave the alien fighter in the possession of the weapons engineers. They were the best people for the job. The deadline was merely part of the captain’s pep talk, a way to put fire to his heels.

Those three days happened to coincide with the date the alien reinforcements in Vega 951 were scheduled to reach the Vega-1 Slipstream and pass through into the current system. Since the Vega-2 endpoint had changed as well, as evidenced by the T3 prison ship, that meant the aliens didn’t know—otherwise they would have turned around and taken Vega-2 to arrive sooner. Unless they had other reasons for traveling via Vega-1.

When the chief weapons engineer disconnected, Jonathan stood. “Robert, come to my office, please.”

The commander followed him into the office and when they were both seated, facing each other opposite the captain’s desk, Jonathan spoke.

“We need to come up with a plan to save your wife,” Jonathan told the commander. “I want you to schedule a meeting with the MOTH Lieutenant Commander and Chief Galaal. Involve Miko. Come up with some rescue scenarios. We’re going to have to punch through those fighters to the ship. And hope it doesn’t flee on us before we get there.” The enemy ships could easily outrun the human ships.

“Should these scenarios be manned, or unmanned?” Robert asked.

Jonathan rested three splayed fingers around his mouth. “Come up with plans for both scenarios. Though I’d be more inclined to back a mission that was unmanned. We don’t know if the telepath is a prisoner, or helping the aliens. Though I suspect the latter, given his previous behavior. We have no idea what that mind link did to him.”

Robert stood. “All right. I’ll get on it.”

Before he left, Jonathan added: “And Robert. We’ll save her. You know we will.”

Robert pressed his lips together and blinked rapidly. “I know. Thank you for not leaving her behind, Captain.”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” Jonathan said.

“I just, I’m terrified about what the aliens are doing to her right now. You heard the stories Wolf and Lin shared. The dissection room. The—”

“Don’t go there,” Jonathan said. “They won’t dare touch her. She’s too valuable. She’s the only thing preventing us from blowing them out of the stars right now.”

Robert nodded. His lips quivered, and he seemed like he was about to cry.

Jonathan had seen several grown men openly weep in the course of his career, sometimes at his instigation. It came with the territory. He had never once teared up in return. Except right then.

Maybe it was because Robert had never cried before. Maybe it was because of the shared bond Jonathan felt with Bridgette. Whatever the case, he couldn’t help the rising tears.

Hold it together, Captain. Be the rock that weathers the storm.

With effort, Jonathan managed to restrain himself. He was very careful not to blink. That would only cause the tears to spill over. The liquid finally drained through the ducts to his nasal cavity after several moments.

Robert, meanwhile, had let go. Jonathan wasn’t going to tell him to hold it back. It was better that the commander cried there in the office than in front of the bridge crew.

Robert wiped the tears away and finally got it together. “I’m good now. I’m good.” He straightened, and smoothed his utilities. “Sorry sir.”

Robert turned around and left.

Jonathan wiped his nose and stared at the entry hatch when Robert was gone. The stress was getting to them all. There would be more tears shed in the coming days, of that Jonathan was sure.

Unbidden, one of the previous battles replayed in his mind.

Detecting another thermal build-up from the nose of the closer vessel!

Evacuate all crew from—

Sir, the
Dominion!

The destroyer floated across his vision, split cleanly in half down the middle.

Entering upper thermosphere. Hull temperature stabilizing at one thousand Kelvin.

Hold her steady...

Hull temperature has dropped to four hundred Kelvin. Approaching Kármán line.

Miko, do you have a firing solution? Tactical! Do you have a firing solution!

I think so.

Fire.

“Captain,” Maxwell intoned, snapping him out of the trance. “Are you all right?”

“What? I’m fine, Maxwell.”

“Your elevated heart rate, breathing, and perspiration levels would seem to indicate otherwise,” the AI told him.

He glanced at the standard time on his aReal. More than an hour had passed since Robert had left.
Missing time.

“How long have I been unresponsive?” Jonathan asked.

“Not long,” Maxwell said. “That was only my third attempt to address you. I had assumed you were deep in thought.”

“But you knew I was sweating.” Jonathan shifted his arms, and he felt the cold perspiration slide down his ribs.

“I only detected the previously mentioned physiological changes ten minutes ago,” the AI explained.

“I see.”

A call from Lazur flashed on his aReal. Jonathan accepted.

“Captain,” the comm officer said. “The alien ship is hailing us via the telemetry drone.”

Jonathan stood up urgently. “That’s a first.” He headed toward the bridge hatch. “Are we able to make any sense of the transmission?”

“It’s standard English.” The comm officer paused. “Sir, it’s Barrick.”

J
onathan set himself down at the Round Table.

“Tap Barrick in,” the captain said. “Let’s see what the traitor has to say. I’m authorizing the entire bridge crew to watch this.”

“The telemetry drone has flagged the communication as audio only,” Lazur told him.

“That’s fine.”

The comm officer nodded. A moment later Barrick’s voice came over the line.

“Hello Captain,” the telepath said.

“I want to talk to Bridgette,” Jonathan said.

“Always to the point,” Barrick sent. The lag was only about a second, given the distances involved, and the low bandwidth requirements of audio-only communication. “But she is currently indisposed.”

“I want her returned immediately.” He had to try, for Robert’s sake.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Barrick returned. “That won’t be possible.”

“You lied to me,” Jonathan said. “You said you would set her free.”

“And I will,” the telepath replied. “When the time is right.”

Jonathan sighed. “What do you want, then?”

“It’s not what I want,” Barrick transmitted. “But the
Raakarr
. You see, I am acting as their intermediary. A translator, if you will.”

“The Raakarr?”

“That’s what I’m calling them. It’s the word-form of the hissing sound they make when they respire. Onomatopoeia. Their actual name has no translation in any human tongue. In fact, it doesn’t even have a pronunciation. It’s a three dimensional point cloud transmitted into my mind, a series of dots vaguely reminiscent of their body shape. It’s how humanity will perhaps communicate ten thousand years from now.”

“All right, assuming you speak for them,” Jonathan said. “What do these Raakarr as you call them want?”

“They propose a temporary truce.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “A truce?”

“Yes. Our two races have found ourselves stranded in a galaxy far away from our own. We must work together to find a way back. Or at the very least, leave each other alone.”

Jonathan muted the connection and glanced at Robert. “That only confirms the aliens weren’t the ones who edited the two Slipstreams.”

“That begs the question,” Robert said. “If not them, then who did?”

Jonathan stared at the system map on his aReal and wondered what other malevolent intelligence lurked out there.

“A truce,” the captain mused. “They want a fragile truce. Whatever armistice we negotiate will likely end when their reinforcements arrive three days from now.”

“Assuming they actually arrive,” Miko commented.

“I’m sure they will. And if the Raakarr weren’t the ones who edited those Slipstreams, that means our alien friends here don’t even know that more of their ships are scheduled to enter the system in three days.”

“Do we tell them?”

“No,” Jonathan said. “I’d like to keep that knowledge from them, for now. Assuming the telepath hasn’t already revealed it.”

“I doubt the bastard even knows,” Robert said dismissively.

“Don’t underestimate him,” Jonathan warned.

“You’re right.” Robert lowered his gaze, his expression forlorn.

“Are you there, Captain Dallas?” Barrick asked over the comm.

Jonathan unmuted the connection. “You say the Raakarr are trapped? We know they have technology that allows their ships to pass through Slipstreams without the need of a Gate. Why haven’t they simply returned?”

“They have tried,” Barrick returned. “But the Slipstream endpoint on this side loops back to here, so that it’s like traveling through an ordinary point in space-time.”

Jonathan suddenly wondered if it had been a mistake to allow the bridge crew to listen, because if what Barrick was saying was true, that meant even if the task group built a return Gate, none of them were going home any time soon.

Their last hope, dashed.

“Before I accept any sort of truce,” Jonathan said. “There is something I want to know. Why did the Raakarr first attack in Vega 951? That was entirely unprovoked.”

“Not entirely. As you and your scientists correctly deduced, the Raakarr were using the system as a breeding ground. Vega 951 is on the outskirts of their claimed territory, and your intrusion was considered a trespass. At first they thought your ships belonged to a certain rogue faction among them, so when the
Selene
sent a team to investigate the ruins of the crashed Elder vessel, the Raakarr promptly attacked. Only after they had taken the crew of the
Selene
as prisoner did they realize they had encountered a new spacefaring race. Worried that you had come as aggressors in an attempt to seize the system, they attacked the rest of the task unit when you came searching for the
Selene
, and then radioed home for reinforcements.”

“It was still unprovoked,” Jonathan said.

“What would you do?” Barrick asked. “If you had a colony world full of newborns, and an alien vessel suddenly appeared out of nowhere and dispatched an away team to the structure that held your babies, would you be happy about it?”

“We certainly wouldn’t hide in the shadows, waiting for the best time to ambush them,” Jonathan said. “We’d show ourselves and attempt communication.”

“You might,” Barrick said. “And I’ll grant, that would be an appropriate human response. But you have to remember these are aliens, and they don’t think the same as humans. Not at all.”

“What about the third attack, then?” Jonathan said. “We weren’t anywhere near their breeding ground. We were trespassing across their space, I admit, but still...”

“They wanted the weapon,” Barrick sent. “Despite all the shielding, they could detect it. When the reinforcements arrived, they decided to capture it.”

“The weapon.” Jonathan thought for a moment. “You’re talking about the planet-killer.”

“I am. They have nothing like it in their arsenal. They wanted to study it.”

“Good thing we blew it up,” Jonathan muttered. “So you’re saying they don’t fuel their starships with geronium?”

“I actually have no idea about that,” Barrick replied. “But I doubt they’ll reveal their technological secrets to me any time soon.”

Jonathan felt his eyes narrow. “You haven’t revealed ours, I hope?”

“Captain,” Barrick chided. “Have you no faith in me? My first loyalty is to humanity.”

“Is it?” Jonathan said. “You tried to turn the
Callaway
against its own fleet in our last encounter with the aliens. I’d say you were trying to help them.”

“I had other reasons for doing that,” Barrick returned. “But you wouldn’t believe me if I told you them.”

“You’re definitely right on that point,” Jonathan said. “You say the aliens want a truce? Tell them I won’t negotiate anything until Bridgette is returned.”

“I told you, that won’t be possible,” Barrick transmitted. “They know how valuable she is. She won’t be harmed. They want her here as reassurance.”

“Reassurance?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes. That you won’t try to blow them out of the stars.”

Jonathan considered pressing for her release, but decided that if he was in their position and outnumbered by seven alien ships, he would probably hold onto his hostage, too.

“You said they wanted to work together to find a way back,” Jonathan said. “What exactly do they propose?”

“The Raakarr have been here for the past six months,” Barrick transmitted. “And they haven’t been idle during that time. They have explored and cataloged every planet. And yet they’ve found only one item of interest. Here, on this world.”

Jonathan leaned forward. “Go on.”

“They have detected an anomaly on this world. A small, hundred meter square area that is emitting gravimetric distortions. They want to investigate. With us.”

“With us,” Jonathan said flatly.

“Yes. They lost their shuttles and other exploratory vessels in the original attack, and since neither their fighters nor their main ship are capable of atmospheric flight, they had no way of dispatching a landing party. However, now that I have provided them with a Dragonfly, they do have that capability. They need me to fly it, of course. But they can only fit a few of their own crew members aboard. Not enough to deem the mission safe. So they propose a joint exploration operation.”

The captain glanced at Robert. “A joint operation...”

“Yes. What better way for our two species to demonstrate our good will in carrying out the truce? And to bond? It could be the beginning of a lifetime of friendship between our two races.”

“I’ll have to take this up with my advisors,” Jonathan said.

“Do so,” Barrick responded. “But don’t take too long. The Raakarr plan to dispatch the Dragonfly in the next two hours, with or without you.”

“Unless we decide to attack,” Jonathan sent. “Then there will be no Dragonfly left to dispatch.”

“Except you won’t,” Barrick returned. “Not with Bridgette aboard. I will contact you again in precisely twenty minutes. Barrick out.”

The connection terminated.

“Ops, can we confirm there’s actually a gravimetric anomaly on that planet?” Jonathan said.

“Negative,” Ensign Lewis answered. “Not from high orbit, at least. Our instruments aren’t sensitive enough. We’d have to send a few exploratory drones under the cloud cover. Even then it’s questionable we would detect anything unless the scouts flew close to the anomaly.”

“Do it anyway,” Jonathan said.

“Launching two atmosphere-capable drones,” Lewis said.

The captain raised the noise canceler to discuss the issue with Robert.

“It smells like an ambush,” Jonathan said. “He says their ships aren’t atmosphere capable. He could be lying. And they have one of our Dragonflies now. That’s enough to hold at least five or six aliens. Why would they need us?”

“Believe me, I don’t trust them either, Captain,” Robert told him. “But what really bothers me is a casual comment Barrick made. He said he was going to be flying the shuttle.”

Jonathan pursed his lips. “If we agree to do this, I’ll need Connie to fast-track her psi shielding project. I don’t need Barrick controlling our men down there.”

“Unless we send robots alone,” Robert said.

“That’s an option,” Jonathan agreed.

“Given this new development,” Robert continued. “What happens to the rescue scenario you wanted me to plan with the MOTHs and Miko?”

“Put it together,” Jonathan said. “It will be our contingency plan. But if we agree to this, we’ll have to put any actual rescue on hold, for now.”

Robert nodded slowly. “Understood.”

“Captain,” Lewis interrupted a few minutes later. “The alien fighters have moved to intercept our exploratory drones. They’ve fired warning shots across the bows.”

“Damn it,” Jonathan said. “Recall the drones. They don’t want us exploring the planet without them, apparently.”

Barrick tapped in via the telemetry drone. “So Captain, do I have your answer?”

“You won’t let us send telemetry drones down,” Jonathan said. “How do we know the Raakarr aren’t hiding more ships down there?”

“You have their word,” Barrick answered.

“I want the coordinates to the anomaly,” Jonathan said.

“The Raakarr will send the location only when a mutual expedition has been agreed upon, and the shuttles from each party have entered the cloud cover.”

“But that could add hours to the descent,” Jonathan said. “Better to approach the spot from a frictionless point in high orbit.”

“The Raakarr will transmit the coordinates of the general area thirty minutes before the scheduled drop,” Barrick replied. “With the final location five minutes prelaunch.”

Jonathan worked his jaw. The man wasn’t going to make it easy.

“Your answer, Captain Dallas?” Barrick pressed.

“We agree to a temporary truce,” Jonathan said finally.

“Excellent,” Barrick replied. “But what about the planet-side mission?”

“We’ll send a team down to the planet with you,” he said grudgingly. “But once everyone is on the surface, my team is in charge of the operation. Do I make myself clear?”

Barrick took some time to answer. Finally: “The Raakarr have agreed. See you on the surface.”