The gods titan, p.2
The God's Titan, page 2
And those were just the known outcomes. Flint had been granted access to some of the other reports and while many of these teetered on the cusp of outright speculation, he didn’t much want to contemplate how many different ways his death might come.
Worst of all, he’d volunteered for this duty, though he didn’t regret the fact. Following his return to Basalt after the Kilvar attack, Flint had learned of Fleet Admiral Recker’s plans for the Firestorm. At that moment, Flint’s mouth had opened and he’d offered to come back to the warship on the basis that he knew it better than anyone. His crew had also volunteered and their readiness had not come as a shock. In hindsight, Flint realised it would have been more of a surprise if they’d remained silent.
The requirement for the Firestorm to remain battle ready had necessitated a backup crew, and those personnel would soon disembark at the midsection flank exit onto an incoming transport. New faces would replace them - Fleet Admiral Recker wanted to expose additional personnel to the warship’s technology, and Flint and his team were best placed to do the teaching.
“Fifty minutes and the transport should be here,” said Lieutenant Sophie Garrett. “It’s bringing us ten new crew members and we only have three spare seats on the bridge.”
“It’ll be tight,” Flint admitted. “But nobody said we have to show all of them the ropes at the same time.”
“There aren’t that many ropes to show them, sir,” said Lieutenant Stan Fredericks. “Anyone who can pilot a warship can pilot the Firestorm.”
“You know that’s not entirely accurate, Lieutenant. When we came out of the underground bay on Basalt, we had to learn fast,” said Flint. “If this warship is put into another combat situation, it’d be best if the crew had some real, hands-on experience with the hardware.”
“I’m not trying to argue, sir. I just think that if enemies show up, we—” he pointed around at the other crew members “—the same crew as did the fighting last time – will be ordered to take double shots of Frenziol-15 and to get our asses to the bridge, whether or not we’re on duty at the time.”
“Sounds about right,” said Commander Amy Maddox.
Flint believed it was an accurate summation as well, though he didn’t say so. “Are all systems stable, Lieutenant Fredericks?” he asked, more out of habit than anything else.
“Yes, sir, the same as they have been all these last ten days,” said Fredericks. “Just don’t push the engines too far.”
“Not much requirement for velocity,” said Maddox. “Not with a ten-thousand-klick leash holding us in place.”
Flint rose and stretched. His combat suit had become part of him now and his body was adapted to both the weight and the resistance it added when he flexed his legs, arms and shoulders. Directly in his line of sight, the sensor feeds on the bulkhead screen showed little more than darkness, and Basalt was a tiny speck way out in the distance.
Keeping outside of a five-million-kilometre perimeter, three other fleet warships kept watch over the Firestorm, accompanied by a dedicated rescue vessel. Flint didn’t have high expectations those nearby ships would be much assistance should the Kilvar return, except perhaps as a way to divide incoming enemy fire. Idly, he watched one of those warships – a heavy cruiser named World Breaker – perform a series of intricate and unnecessary manoeuvres which made him think the crew was bored.
“How long before high command decides what they’re going to do with us?” asked Lieutenant Rita Becerra.
Having witnessed Becerra’s excellent performance during the last engagement with the Kilvar, Flint no longer had doubts about her ability, regardless of how fresh she was out of training. “I haven’t been told anything, Lieutenant,” he said. “Like I promised you before, the moment I hear, that’s when you’ll hear as well.”
“They’re going to extract the exium and take it somewhere top secret,” said Lieutenant Wes Bolan.
“I think high command wants to figure out how to control the prototype without making it useless,” said Fredericks. “The Firestorm is the only warship in the fleet that can defeat a Kilvar ship. Even if the exium is damned dangerous, why would they remove the option, last ditch or not?”
“Something’s got to happen,” said Bolan weakly. “I guess I didn’t think my argument through.”
“Well you’re right to think we won’t be parked here forever,” said Flint. “What change will come or when, I don’t know.”
“What do you think will happen, sir?” asked Lieutenant Sophie Garrett.
With little else to do, it was a question to which Flint had devoted a great deal of thinking time. “Research Lead Moseley and his team survived,” he said. “And I’m sure we have a few of those ingar-ternium reactors already built within the alliance. Put the two together and we could produce more exium.”
“Which might bring the Kilvar back,” said Maddox.
“The Kilvar are returning anyway, Commander. They aren’t done with us.” Of this, Flint was as sure as he was of anything.
“Why bother waiting an entire ten days?” asked Bolan. “Why attack once and then disappear for so long?”
“We don’t know how those Kilvar discovered us, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “What if they just happened, through chance alone, to come within exium detection range and decided to stop by to check it out? It may be the other members of the enemy fleet are weeks away, even at a high multiple of lightspeed.”
“Those bastards aren’t only interested in exium,” said Fredericks. “We all saw what happened to Private Arnold. When that Kilvar hit him, it sucked the life clean out of him.”
Flint remembered it well. After killing Private Arnold, the enemy soldier had begun convulsing like it was in a state of unimaginable ecstasy. That hadn’t stopped Lieutenant Vance and his platoon from blowing it to pieces, but the incident had Flint worried. It was usually advantageous to know what an enemy wanted and the Kilvar definitely wanted that exium prototype. However, Flint was sure there was more to it than just that.
“So you think we’ll produce more exium modules and install them on other warships?” asked Garrett.
“I didn’t say exactly that,” Flint hedged. “Once we’ve learned how to control the exium’s effects on a ternium propulsion, that’s when we’ll see additional warships being equipped.”
“In which case, we might be here for a while,” said Bolan.
“Are you disappointed by that, Lieutenant?” asked Flint.
“Sure, I’m bored, sir, but that’s not why I’m upset about waiting.” Bolan shrugged. “It just seems like we’re going to sit back and let the enemy throw another punch our way, except this time they might knock us out before we can do a thing to stop it.”
“I understand what you mean, Lieutenant,” said Flint. He was reluctant to speculate, but since Fleet Admiral Recker wasn’t the waiting kind of man, it seemed likely that something would happen rather than nothing. “Maybe we’ll hear sooner than you think.”
“But you’ve definitely not been told anything,” said Maddox, staring at him intently.
“Nothing,” Flint confirmed.
Since he was standing, he headed between the sensor and engine stations and stopped in front of the replicator. He didn’t feel much like eating, so he ordered a cup of orange juice which he knew in advance would have a metallic, artificial edge. Drinking it down, he winced at the cold bitterness, and then discarded the cup.
Returning to his seat, Flint occupied two minutes checking the same instrumentation he’d spent the last few days staring at, and another twenty minutes running audits on the Firestorm’s destructive hardware which wouldn’t operate without the propulsion being in superstress. Most of the needles and gauges were in their expected positions, though others were totally out of kilter, as if their time providing crazy readings had ruined their calibration. Equally, much of the audit data was corrupted or meaningless, though doubtless teams of technicians on Basalt and elsewhere were eagerly poring over the output.
Soon after, the inbound transport dropped out of lightspeed, well inside the five-million-kilometre exclusion sphere surrounding the Firestorm.
“There it is,” said Lieutenant Becerra. “Not much to look at.”
The newly arrived vessel was more of a rescue craft than an out-and-out transport. It was two hundred metres in length, boxy and unremarkable, though with hull-mounted coupling apparatus that could form a vacuum-proof seal with almost any other vessel. Since the Firestorm hadn’t been built to accommodate a shuttle of its own, it required specialised equipment - like this transport - in order to board or disembark while it was out in space.
“Heading our way,” said Garrett. “I’d best let the old backup crew know their replacements have arrived.”
“I’ve got an inbound comm, sir,” said Becerra. “It’s Fleet Admiral Recker.”
Flint experienced a pulsing surge of adrenaline. “Put him on the open channel.”
“Captain Flint,” said Recker at once. “I’d like to apologise for making you wait so long.”
“You’ve reached a decision, sir?” asked Flint.
“Yes, I have. First, this needs to be a private channel.”
“Yes, sir.” Flint gave a hand signal and the comms were diverted to his earpiece. “Done,” he said.
“Good,” said Recker. “You’re not going like what I’m about to tell you and part of being a commanding officer is handling your crew effectively. What you hear is for you to convey.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll do that,” said Flint. “It sounds like you have a mission planned and I’m ready for something different. We all are.”
Recker gave a short laugh. “I guessed you might say that, though you’re going to get something you probably wouldn’t have wished for.”
The adrenaline pumped again and Flint wondered where this was leading. “I won’t know until you tell me what it is, sir.”
“Then listen up.” Recker paused, as if he were truly in two minds about whether to divulge an enormous secret, or as if he were about to sign the death warrants of everyone onboard the Firestorm. “Captain Flint, what do you know about the Ancidium?”
“Not much, sir – I don’t have authority to access those records.”
“Then you’ve tried?”
“I think we can learn from the past, sir. I didn’t do much fighting in the Lavorix wars, but I know how close we came to defeat.”
“You might think you know, Captain,” said Recker. “Few people really do. Tell me about the Ancidium.”
Flint opened his mouth and then realised that the scraps he’d pulled together amounted to not much. He considered making a couple of educated guesses and then decided against it. “All I have is hearsay, sir.”
“That’s good,” said Recker. “I don’t enjoy keeping secrets, but the Ancidium was something so far beyond not only our understanding, but our technological capabilities as well. It was the home to the Lavorix – a warship vastly greater in mass and dimensions than anything we’ve ever known. If the citizens of the alliance knew what our enemies had built, it would cause panic.” Recker made a sound of disquiet in his throat, like he’d never quite come to terms with the decision.
Flint didn’t know much about the Ancidium itself, but he knew a little more about the Laws of Ancidium. The Laws had once been six individual warships, each unique and each possessed of destructive capabilities magnitudes above those of anything in the alliance fleet. Flint had learned their names – Galactar, Aeklu, Verumol, Hexidine, Ixidar and Gorgadar – and just thinking of these colossal warships made him shiver at the dangers hiding in the universe.
Out of his crew, only Lieutenant Fredericks had any direct experience of these vessels. He’d fought against the Hexidine at Trinus-XN and was one of the few survivors from that engagement.
Five of the Laws of Ancidium were destroyed and only the Ixidar remained, its destroyer cannon barrels repaired, but its control systems offline and seemingly irrecoverable. Where the alliance had taken the hull was another secret to which Flint wasn’t party.
“I thought the Ancidium was destroyed, sir. I heard an explosion tore it to pieces,” he said.
“It might be destroyed,” said Recker cryptically. “In which case, the mission I’m about to give you will be for nothing.” He made a rumbling sound of anger. “Against the Kilvar, we can’t afford timidity, Captain Flint. I’m about to order you and your crew into action and I won’t lie about the risks. This is going to be tough.”
“My crew and I came through before, sir. I’m willing to do what it takes and I’m sure my crew feel the same.”
“That’s why I picked you. Now, listen carefully, and let me tell you the real history of the Ancidium. Then, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.”
Flint listened carefully, expecting this to be bad. What he got was many times worse.
Chapter Three
Five minutes after Fleet Admiral Recker had finished talking and closed out of the comms channel, the approaching transport requested permission to link with the Firestorm’s portside emergency hatch – a request which Flint granted. A few seconds of manoeuvring followed and then a green light on his console indicated a vacuum-proof seal was in place.
“Lieutenant Vance and his platoon are onboard, sir,” said Lieutenant Becerra in puzzlement. “We weren’t expecting troops.”
“Not until about ten minutes ago, we weren’t,” said Flint. He planned to divulge the details once the transport was on its return journey to the Amber base.
“Our current backup crew are departing and their replacements are staying on the transport,” continued Becerra.
“That’s correct,” said Flint. “Let it happen, Lieutenant. I’ll tell you what’s going on shortly.”
“So we’re the only crew?” said Maddox.
“For the moment, Commander.”
“We need to sleep at some point, sir.”
“These are the Fleet Admiral’s orders,” said Flint. His eyes went to the clock – this shift was less than two hours old and he was still fresh. The Firestorm would soon be at lightspeed and then there’d be time for sleep.
“Those new backup personnel must have already been loaded onto the transport when they heard the news,” said Fredericks. “This is the definition of last-minute planning.” He gave a gruff laugh. “That’s not a criticism, by the way - I know how it works.”
“Get me a channel to Lieutenant Vance,” said Flint.
“Channel opened, sir,” said Becerra a moment later.
“I’m pleased to have you with us, Lieutenant,” said Flint, once he saw the comms link light on his console turn green.
“Happy to be onboard, sir,” said Vance. He sounded almost like he was in a good mood. Almost.
“Have you been given the mission briefing, Lieutenant?”
“Probably only the outline, sir. I’ve been told you’ll provide me with whatever else I need as the mission progresses.”
“That’s right,” said Flint. “You’re aware this is a play it by ear kind of venture?”
Vance chuckled. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, make yourselves at home, Lieutenant. Just don’t expect it to be comfortable.”
Closing the channel, Flint leaned back in his seat. Lieutenant Vance didn’t seem especially concerned about what lay ahead. In fact, he sounded borderline keen to get started. Of course, this was just one more mission to add to his pile. Maybe, Flint thought, when he had another fifty engagements under his belt, he’d be laid back about it as well.
“We’ve received a bunch of new software updates over the comms, sir,” said Lieutenant Garrett. “They were only moved into beta status yesterday.” She made a hmph sound. “Signed off by Research Lead Moseley.”
“Save them into the propulsion control system, Lieutenant,” said Flint.
“Yes, sir,” said Garrett, doubt clear in her voice. “We shouldn’t be running beta software.”
“This is the Firestorm, Lieutenant,” Flint reminded her. “Almost everything in weapons control is beta. Hell, I’m sure some of the coding isn’t even in beta.”
“Yes, sir. Beta software saved into our propulsion control,” said Garrett. “Get ready to run for the exit.”
“I see a new menu on my console, sir,” said Fredericks. “It should appear on the command station as well.”
“It’s there,” Flint confirmed. He opened the menu, scanned the list of options and then closed it again.
“What’s all this about?” asked Fredericks. “This new software allows me to send commands to the exium module. I thought we were leaving it well alone.”
“Things have changed, Lieutenant,” said Flint. “We’re heading into lightspeed shortly. Once we’re away from the Reldus system. I have clearance to let you know what’s going on.”
“I’d like to say I’m excited by the mystery,” said Becerra.
“The transport is ready to de-couple,” said Garrett. “They’re leaving behind a deployment module on the hatch.”
“I’m curious to see how that works,” said Flint. “Give them clearance to depart.”
“Done.”
“Thank you,” said Flint.
One of the sensor feeds was locked on the shuttle and he watched it unclamp from the Firestorm’s hull. Slowly, it accelerated away, leaving behind a ten-metre cube of grey which remained attached to the heavy cruiser’s exit hatch. Gradually, the small vessel picked up speed.
“That’s a deployment vessel?” asked Becerra. “I guess it’s better than having no deployment vessel.”
“Who’s deploying and when?” asked Garrett.
“We’ll talk about it later,” said Flint.
“Whenever you’re ready, sir,” said Garrett. “The shuttle pilot tells me he’s going to stop at twenty thousand klicks and warm up his lightspeed drive.”
