Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1 Page 12

  On the second morning of his confinement, Husher put in a request to visit Sergeant Caine in sick bay, and was denied. So when a knock came that afternoon, and he opened the hatch to find her there with a two-marine escort, at first he didn’t know what to say.

  One of the marines spoke first. “She asked to see you, sir, and the old man okayed it. Do you need…?”

  “I can take it from here, Private. Thank you. Thank you, Lance Corporal.”

  Both nodded. “Captain said five minutes. We’ll wait outside to take her back to sick bay.”

  “All right. Please come in, Sergeant.”

  Caine did, and Husher closed the hatch behind her, turning to offer her the only chair. She sat, and he settled onto the edge of his bunk.

  “How are you?” he said. Her eyes were wider than he remembered them being. Is that just how she looks, now?

  “I’m okay, I guess. I heard you asked to visit me. And…”

  “Good. I’m glad you came. It’s good to see you. You’re looking well.” It wasn’t totally true, but some positive reinforcement couldn’t hurt.

  She looked at him with an expectant expression and said nothing.

  “Um…is there something—”

  “I just thought there must be a reason you asked to see me. That it must mean something.”

  Husher cleared his throat and stared at the floor near the hatch. “You mean, like, that I wanted to, uh, do things?”

  “No! Not like that. It’s just that you show up, and we go on a couple missions together, and then this happens to me…”

  Slowly, Husher shook his head. “What?”

  “I just thought you might have something you can tell me, to help figure this out. Something I can do, maybe, to escape from here…”

  “Escape from where? The Providence?”

  “Maybe. If that’s where we actually are right now. I just know I need to get out of whatever this is.”

  He drew in a long breath. “Wow. You’re still really out of it, aren’t you?”

  “Listen, I don’t even know what ‘out of it’ is anymore, okay? I’m starting to think the way I was before was ‘out of it.’ I’m picking up on things I hadn’t ever considered, like how everything lines up perfectly so you can never, ever get ahead, and the way everyone looks at you like you didn’t really earn what you do have, and…” Caine trailed off into tears, clutching her face with both hands and shaking with silent sobs.

  God. Husher got up and crossed the cabin in one stride, lowering himself awkwardly to wrap Caine into a hug. “Hey. Just…just try to keep it together, okay? We need you, Sergeant. We need you back.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Caine rasped. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not. I’m serious. Things almost got a little too real, fighting those pirates without you.”

  She shrugged him off and looked up at him, wiping tears away with her fingers.

  “I don’t have any tissues,” he said, returning to his spot on the bed. “I can offer you a shirt.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Sure.” He studied the floor for another couple seconds, then he met her gaze once more. “You’re nothing like this, Sergeant. That’s how I know you’re sick, because when I met you I thought you were the toughest person I’d ever met. I would have expected to see Keyes cry before I ever saw you do it. But you’re going to get better. You’ll come back to us. Okay?”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  I don’t think I’m very good at this.

  “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  He squinted at her. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Well, you just…the way you talk, and you have these strong opinions about everything. You’re commissioned and I’m enlisted, and I just wonder if maybe everyone around you seems a bit dumb from where you’re standing.”

  “God, no. I feel dumb, at the moment. I feel like I’m just babbling.”

  Caine laughed. “That’s how I feel.”

  “You’re the one who put on politics in the shuttle.”

  “True.”

  A sharp rap on the hatch. “Time’s up,” said a muffled voice.

  They both rose, and an awkward moment passed during which Husher had no clue what to do. Do I hug her again?

  Caine stuck out her hand, and they performed a handshake that lasted a fraction of a second. “Thank you for having me over, First Lieutenant.” She averted her eyes, color creeping into her cheeks.

  “Yes. Thank you for…hopefully, um, they’ll let me out of here soon, and then…I…”

  She nodded. “Have a nice day.”

  “You too.”

  Caine opened the hatch, joining the marines in the hallway. Weirdly, something inside Husher wanted her to glance back as they marched away. She didn’t.

  He closed the hatch and went to the alcove where a shallow basin projected from the wall underneath a mirror. Officers were expected to look neat and tidy at all times, and so their cabins came with this. No head, of course. Still had to share those with the crew.

  Husher ran the water until it warmed and splashed some onto his beard, which he’d been growing since the start of his confinement, out of spite. He slathered it with cream and began to scrape it off his face and into the sink.

  Chapter 38

  Captain Teth

  Keyes entered the CIC, still bleary-eyed from sleep, which had been interrupted by Arsenyev requesting his presence over the intercom. He tried not to trudge as he crossed to his chair.

  “Captain, we’ve arrived at the coordinates provided to us by the Kaithe.”

  “Thank you, Chief Warrant Officer Arsenyev,” he said, taking care to enunciate her new rank in full. He wanted the crew to get accustomed to her promotion quickly, so that he could promote her again. His plan involved grooming her to be his new XO as quickly as possible, but for now she was too junior, and Laudano currently served as Acting XO. “However, I believe our arrival was Lieutenant Laudano’s to report. Can you confirm the Chief Warrant Officer’s words, Lieutenant?” Arsenyev averted her eyes, blushing.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very good.” Arsenyev was his favorite to permanently replace the traitor Bronson, which meant he intended to lean heavily on her, turning her every mistake into a memorable learning opportunity. “What are we looking at, Ensign Werner?”

  “It’s just a small moon orbiting a gas giant, sir, with no relevant features that I can discern. There’s nothing here.”

  Keyes leaned toward the main viewscreen, even though it showed only system readouts. “Are active sensors engaged?”

  “Yes, sir. I—”

  He looked over to see what had caused the sensor operator to break off like that. Werner leaned over his console, clutching it with both hands, eyes wide.

  “What is it, Ensign?”

  “We have a new contact, sir. Cresting the moon’s horizon.”

  “What can you tell me about our new contact?”

  “It…” Werner swallowed. “It appears to be an Ixan warship, sir.”

  “The Ixa aren’t supposed to have warships.”

  The sensor operator looked at him helplessly. “This seems to be one, sir. It looks like an updated version of what they used during the First Galactic War.”

  “What’s our proximity to the Ixan contact?” He didn’t want to refer to them as the enemy—not yet. I’m reluctant to add another one of those to humanity’s current roster.

  “Only twenty-two thousand kilometers, sir. And closing.”

  “Tactical, ensure our point defense turrets are active.”

  “Yes, sir,” Arsenyev said.

  “Coms, try to establish contact with them.”

  To his surprise, the Ixan captain replied to the Providence’s request, and soon Keyes was looking at it on the splitscreen, the other half of the screen showing the Ixan warship growing ever larger. The Ixa liked to make their ships as black as space, so that until they drew close you could only see them by the absence of sta
rs. That didn’t make them any less visible to radar or lidar, of course.

  When he first saw the Ixan captain, he did a double take. A lot of the aliens look alike, but I’ll be damned if this one doesn’t look just like Ochrim.

  That almost certainly meant it had two Ixan parents. Many Ixa didn’t—they were the only ones in the galaxy capable of siring hybrids with other species.

  “Captain Keyes, I presume?” the Ixan said, its reptilian mouth curved in that creepy smile the Ixa always seemed to wear across their scaly snouts.

  “Correct. Who are you?”

  “I am Captain Teth of the Silencer.”

  “Captain Teth, you are currently in violation of the strictures placed on the Ixan military at the close of the First Galactic War. The very existence of an Ixan warship constitutes such a violation, let alone taking it out of your system without first seeking approval from the Galactic Amnesty Council.”

  “This ship was never in the Baxa System to begin with. As for your so-called Amnesty Council, I wish you could know how lax their monitors have been, Captain Keyes. They were assigned to our system to prevent us from doing things like purifying our species of half-breeds, and look how that turned out.” The Ixan captain’s smile grew wider, stretching its faded skin across its muzzle.

  The thing’s silky voice carried disturbing undertones. “What are you talking about?” Keyes said.

  “I’m talking about how we killed your monitors months ago and started falsifying their reports, so that we can pursue our manifest destiny, as laid out in the Prophecies.”

  “Captain,” Arsenyev said. “Can I volunteer an opinion?”

  “Mute the transmission. Go ahead, Chief.”

  “I think the Ixan’s stalling for time. They’re still closing the gap, which means we’ll have less time to react to anything they try.”

  “Fifteen thousand kilometers, Captain,” Werner said.

  We shouldn’t have to react to anything. Point defense turrets were active. That said, they had no idea what this new warship was capable of. “Noted. Unmute.”

  “Unmuted.”

  “Captain Teth, by the authority vested in me by the Galactic Amnesty Council, the United Human Fleet, and the Commonwealth, you are hereby ordered to surrender immediately.”

  “And what would that entail, Captain Keyes? Am I to tag along behind your scrap-metal ship, weapons inactive, until we reach human space and I can be properly arrested?” Teth’s deep-set eyes danced with a mixture of amusement and scorn. “Or would you rather assign someone to pilot my ship while I rot in your brig? I’m just dying to know your mind on this matter.”

  “We’ll start by boarding you.”

  “Give me some time to think on it, will you? You’ll have my answer momentarily.” Teth vanished, and the view of the Silencer expanded to fill the viewscreen. It had grown alarmingly large during their conversation, its dark contours just becoming visible to optical sensors.

  “Sir!” Arsenyev said. “They’ve launched a missile.”

  “Just one? Shoot it out of the sky and tell Lieutenant Hornwood to scramble Condors.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Keyes leaned back in his chair and pondered the sleek vessel, which showed no signs of slowing. For all their smallish size, nothing had matched the Ixa’s fleet of warships during the First Galactic War—not until Ochrim gave humanity dark tech. Normally they deployed in task forces, though, not alone as the Silencer was. Charging in by itself as it was…Keyes found the opposing ship more perplexing than threatening. Still, its mere presence was disturbing enough, and if Teth had told the truth about the monitors—

  “Captain, the enemy’s missile has exploded!”

  “What? Before we shot it?”

  The sensor operator nodded. “It—it’s still coming. It exploded into a cloud of kinetic impactors, and they’re still coming our way!”

  Keyes resisted the temptation to leap to his feet. “Tactical, engage secondary lasers immediately as well as point defense turrets the instant those impactors are in range. Shoot down as many as you can. Nav, hard to starboard and adjust attitude downward ten degrees. Now! Now!”

  With such a sudden course correction, even the Ocharium nanites distributed throughout their uniforms and bodies couldn’t simulate stable gravity. The maneuver pitched anyone not strapped down into the air, including Keyes, who found himself tumbling from his seat and onto the floor near the Tactical station. The Providence groaned and screeched in protest as its massive frame shouldered the immense pressures her engines were exerting.

  As he made his way back to his seat, shrugging off his undignified flight and ignoring the new pains flaring up across his backside, Keyes heard the sensor operator say, “Sir, almost half of the volley will still hit our fore port flank. Ten seconds to impact.”

  “Arsenyev, discharge those lasers,” Keyes barked. Luckily, the Tactical officer had been strapped in and was still busy executing his orders. “Everyone, brace for impact. Coms, patch me through to shipwide—”

  Too late. Countless speeding fragments hit his ship, sending violent tremors through her, followed by a prolonged, earthquake-like rumbling caused by a series of explosions. Gripping his chair’s armrests, Keyes managed to keep his seat this time.

  The color had fled from Arsenyev’s face. “Sir, I wasn’t able to fully discharge the capacitors in time.”

  Keyes’s heart hammered in his chest. “Werner, damage report.”

  “The explosions were seven port-side capacitors blowing, sir. Also, Decks Three through Five are open to space, between Sections Fifty-One and Fifty-Nine. Damage control teams have already been deployed, and inner hatches sealed off the affected areas immediately.”

  “Casualties?”

  “Four injured, two unaccounted for, and one confirmed dead, Captain.”

  Keyes inhaled sharply through his teeth. “And the enemy vessel?”

  “It…it’s disengaging, sir. The Silencer has adjusted its attitude upward thirty degrees and is on a course to depart the moon’s orbit.”

  “Should I plot a course to pursue?” the Nav officer asked.

  “Negative,” Keyes said. He glanced at Arsenyev, who still looked shaken. “This isn’t your fault, Chief Warrant Officer. No UHF ship has ever gone up against a weapon like that before, and you did the best you could. It could have been a lot worse—if you hadn’t acted so decisively, there would have been even more charge left in those capacitors. We might not be sitting here right now.”

  A hand pressed to her chest, Arsenyev gave him a grateful smile, which made him realize she’d probably been readying herself for a dressing-down. His temper was well-known to the crew, as was his love for the Providence. But Arsenyev wasn’t to blame for the damage she’d taken.

  I am. I should never have allowed Teth to get that close.

  Chapter 39

  Incoming Transmission

  “I owe each of you an apology,” Keyes said, standing at the head of the conference room table, locking eyes with each of the others in turn. “Fesky, I clearly should have taken your warning about the Ixa more seriously. That’s not to say I’m necessarily ready to treat their Prophecies as gospel, but I can see now that they deserve consideration. You’re reinstated.”

  The Winger clacked her beak. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Ek, I apologize for the slurs I addressed you with. Humans have suffered from prejudice since we rose from the muck, even prejudice toward each other, and I’m afraid our interactions with aliens have only revealed just how ugly that side of us is. I don’t offer that as an excuse—merely an explanation. I’m sorry.”

  Ek inclined her head.

  “First Lieutenant Husher, I apologize to you, too. Involuntary separation was too harsh a sentence for your transgressions, and considering your performance since you joined us on the Providence, we need you active. However, I do need you to respect my decisions as captain.”

  Husher’s lips tightened, and for a long moment his g
aze held little warmth. But finally, he nodded. “I’ll respect your decisions so long as they’re the right ones, sir.”

  Keyes returned the young officer’s stare in silence, and briefly he considered sending him back to his quarters to stew a little longer. “Noted,” he said at last. Settling into his chair, he tapped his com where it lay face-up on the table. “Chief Warrant Officer Arsenyev, please come in.”

  The conference room hatch opened, and Arsenyev took her seat.

  Keyes went on. “I don’t know what the existence of an Ixan warship means for interplanetary politics, but I have a good idea of what it means for warfare, especially given their use of a never-before-seen weapon. The Silencer launched a missile that burst into a cloud of kinetic-kill masses—far too many for our point defense turrets to neutralize. As I’m sure you’ve all surmised, the Providence suffered significant damage from the barrage. I want to hear your ideas for how we can revise our approach to future engagements with the Ixa, given their possession of such a weapon.”

  “Do we think Teth was waiting for us to arrive?” Husher said. “And if we do, does that mean Fesky was right about the Kaithe betraying us? They might have sent us to a meaningless location and then passed the coordinates on to the Ixa.”

  “It’s possible, and I think we’d do well to cultivate a healthy suspicion of the Kaithe going forward, despite their supposed neutrality. That said, if the entire galaxy is aligned against humanity, I don’t see how we can prevail, especially if dark tech continues malfunctioning. We need to adopt a line of action that assumes victory is possible—otherwise, we might as well sit on our hands until someone comes along to wipe us out. But that’s not the question I asked, First Lieutenant. How will we deal with this new weapon?”

  Arsenyev spoke up. “What if we use the primary laser to destroy their missiles far enough away to buy us time to maneuver out of the impactor cloud’s path? That would also mean not letting Ixan warships get too close.”

  “Excellent idea. Although, the main capacitor can only hold enough energy for one discharge of the primary. We may be forced to rely on our secondaries, to preserve our ability to take out subsequent missiles.”