4303.05.09
073…, died one month after conception while on life support. 097 – died due to radiation intolerance. 129 was the final memory, 129 died in the womb, gravimetric implosion. It was an explosion similar to Crimson’s.
What are you looking for? Crimson asked. Matt noticed that the memories were disturbing him greatly. There was a lot of undirected rage floating in the neural band this morning.
Survivors. Matt suggested. Crimson didn’t even transmit a glimmer of hope at the notion. It can’t be that hopeless, Crimson. There must be others that jumped clear. Thirty seven of the subjects ‘died’ in circumstances similar to yours.
You felt the abominable suffering in the memories. Crimson transmitted dejectedly, They would not have survived very long. They were incomplete.
Possibly. It’s a pity Ghost couldn’t access all of Deep Grey’s research…
This is a horrible Galaxy… Crimson mused, his mind sifting through the memories, How could we have amounted to this. If it isn’t part of the Coalition, it’s Vorchan.
Like Tass’ran, and what about Zemoria?
There is only one Zemorian system. Thousands of Vorchan systems. Zemoria is the only system in the Coalition databanks that is not Coalition or Vorchan.
There must be others. Zemoria can’t be the only independent species.
They can.
How?
The BMS were their first key to independence. We share an ancient bond with them.
But the Coalition can acquire its own beems now can’t it?
Yes, the koveran defence network was their second key to independence.
The turrets?
Yes, no ships can travel in Zemorian space without Zemoria’s permission, the turrets can fire volleys out to several AUs.
I didn’t realize they were that powerful.
Admiral Landlow wishes to speak to you. Crimson said, noticing the hail.
One of the maintenance drones flew up in front of Matt to give them a shared visual link for the hail. Matt couldn’t be bothered to leave the desk in his bedroom. The drone’s camera faded away as Matt’s neural vision showed him Landlow’s image.
Norway ‘Nolan’ Landlow was an important name to the Zemorians. He was the head of all things that had guns and traveled in space. Matt had spoken to him moments after jumping into Zemorian space with Lyla. He wanted to enlist.
“We apologize for the time it’s taken for us to review your application.” Landlow transmitted.
“Do you have a place for us?” Matt asked.
“I would rather we discuss the circumstances of your application in person before I give a final verdict on this. It’s very uncommon for a… non-Zemorian to apply, especially one with a status as… exotic as yours.”
“It’s time Crimson and I chose a side, and this is the side we want to be on.”
They met at the Ramada restaurant on Signus, near the spaceport. The upper level was for reservations only. They had a seat by the window. The spaceport was a distant structure to the east. There was a large ship floating a few thousand feet above it like a fallen crescent. Small drones were flying up to and away from it at regular intervals.
“A Deloran cruiser.” Landlow said. “Since the Vorchan mobilization, we have been refitting a number of our older craft.”
The neural interface summoned a file on the cruiser but Matt ignored it. “There will be war?”
“I’d hope not. But we must always be prepared.”
“Crimson’s a powerful ship.” Matt boasted.
“Its power is not in question.”
“What is, then?” Matt asked.
“I have spoken to Rahjaad. Your ship is a Coalition experiment. Is that true?”
“Apparently.”
“Apparently?”
“I want to learn more about the experiments. Find others like Crimson. To do that I have to return to the Deep Grey, but the Deep Grey is heavily defended. There is a fleet stationed there: One command carrier, seven support ships, ranging from frigates all the way to battlecruisers.”
This was the first Crimson had heard of Matt’s plan. I already know what we’ll find: Pain and suffering. The Coalition are monsters. They should be destroyed, all of them. You said yourself that we will avenge my family.
We can’t take the Coalition on by ourselves.
You don’t know that. Their armour melts like ice to koveran rounds.
“Forgive me but that’s insane. We will not assist you in engaging the Coalition. Our treaty with them is unstable as is.”
“They butcher beems…”
“We do our best to help them.”
“Enslave beems… Their entire race revolves around the enslavement and torture of this species.”
“Hmmmm.” Landlow was massaging his temple with his fingers.
Zemorians: The definition of inaction. We should destroy Deep Grey.
“Mr… Admiral Landlow?” Matt asked, becoming very aware of Crimson’s sudden agitation.
“It will take time for us to” Fuck this, activating koveran reactor. “come to a decision.”
Matt twitched, “It doesn’t look like I have time.”
Ghost had already partially appeared, pulled Matt into the cockpit and disappeared before the Admiral could react.
–
They jumped in a few thousand kilometres from the facility. They were already being locked by the fleet.
Crimson was definitely a beems of action. He must have been waiting avidly for direction.
We should gather the data first. Ghost?
The process will take twenty minutes. Ghost hummed.
Matt was aboard Ghost, trying to make sense of the three separate feeds of data his mind was receiving.
Crimson loaded a high yield koveran explosive round into the breach, trailing a fair distance behind Ghost in case the cloak failed.
Fighters began to launch from the carrier, and the support ships began to fan out ahead of the capital ships, assuming a defensive formation.
Interesting, it doesn’t look like they will attack. Crimson observed, turning his dorsal side to the fleet and setting a slow orbit, his AHC deployed and pointed at them.
An interstice formed less than a kilometre from Ghost. He tried to bank away from it but it was too late, the interference from the jump-in breaking his cloak. He did not vent any energy as he appeared in realspace, keeping his signature as small as possible. Carmine appeared in front of them, her sudden appearance pulling them in towards her for a moment as the gravimetric vacuum she created stabilized itself. There was a bright shimmer as her CKRO vented and her gravimetric lens reignited, calming the small expanse of space between them. Matt felt Crimson’s pleasure and elation at the sight of the jump-in.
“Welcome back Crimson.” Carmine transmitted elatedly.
“I can’t let the Coalition get away with what it’s done to our species.” Crimson transmitted gently.
Ghost was thrown about by Carmine’s distortion wake like a gnat as she blasted by, closing the space between her and Crimson in seconds.
“Can you get to the Deep Grey without her noticing you?” Matt asked.
“No.” Ghost chirped. “Crimson will have to pull her farther away.”
Matt had worried that Carmine would have somehow sensed him.
“Pending and Leyton are dead.” Carmine reported softly, nose to nose with Crimson now.
Matt watched her intently, aware of another presence.
Crimson, get her farther from my position.
“And the experiments? Are they going to continue?” Crimson asked, feigning a playful retreat, pulling her with him in his gravity field. She snuggled up against his port side and matched his speed.
“The Coalition needs beems to survive. I will do everything in my power to ensure that they are treated properly.”
“Then you are still with me?”
“I see no reason the beems and the Coalition cannot co-exist peacefully. I have been speaking to Raum, and to the beems. Times will change for the better. I promise you.”
Ghost activated his backup thrusters and shot himself towards the facility again, keeping his gravimetric lens offline.
“I hope so. Oh Carmine – how you soothe my raging soul…”
She giggled at the poetry like a schoolgirl, pulling away playfully and initiating a tight orbit with kept spacing as Crimson tried to approach her again. They spiralled like that for several minutes.
Ghost and Matt were initiating the download now.
“You are such a romancer. Oh Crimson – how I wish I could—“ something interrupted her transmission. A wide-beam sensor from Carmine washed over Ghost. She was looking in their general direction, scanning little sections of Deep Grey at a time.
“What is it?” Crimson asked.
“Where’s Matt?” Carmine asked, flying towards the Deep Grey.
“Uh-oh…” Matt muttered.
“He’s here.” Crimson replied quickly, flying in front of her. She evaded gracefully and kept her course.
“She’s going to find us.” Matt hissed.
“Five minutes until the download is complete.” Ghost chimed.
“We are screwed. How do you think she’ll respond when she realizes we are trying to steal all of the research?”
“I do not know her well enough to answer that question with anything other than blind speculation.” Ghost admitted.
“Speculate!” Matt demanded.
“I would assume she would respond with hostility.” Ghost said.
A tight-beam sensor tingled Matt’s spine as it focused in on him. Like spotlights, several more illuminated them.
“Well I guess we’re about to find out.” Matt said, sensing Crimson’s sudden fear for his captain’s safety.
“What are you doing…” Carmine asked, her tone dangerous.
Crimson froze, staring at Carmine with all his senses. The hatch housing her AHC began to slide back. “Don’t do that Carmine! I can explain.”
“Oh I understand completely. All this time I thought it was love for the beems that was driving you.”
“Rage at what is being done to us is what drives me!” Crimson exclaimed.
“Power drives you.” Carmine replied.
“What?” Crimson asked in surprise.
“You were going to steal the research for yourself. The Zemorians know more about beems physiology, they would be able to apply the research properly. Grow their own hybrids, as many as they want.” Carmine explained, radiating more and more hostility.
“No, no that’s not it at all.” Crimson replied desperately, backing away slightly.
“What is it, then?” Carmine asked. Her AHC was fully deployed, but she had not yet aimed it at anything.
“Matt wanted to use the information to—“
“You’re right, Carmine.” Matt interrupted, “The Zemorians would be able to apply the research, but they didn’t seem interested. Admiral Landlow refused to help me. I am doing this out of my own interest, in the hopes of finding others like Crimson.”
There was a pause as Carmine’s awareness shifted inwards, she was deliberating with someone.
“Why do you want to find others like him?” the signature of this transmission threw Matt aback. He had not expected Marina aboard Carmine.
“To help heal the damage you have done.”
“And how would these survivors help heal anything?”
“Helping them survive would be help enough.”
“Right, the ship logs would make it look like there are survivors. You stole those from us your last visit, correct?”
“What do you mean ‘would make it look’?”
“Have you downloaded Deep Grey’s sensor logs?”
“Partially.”
“Correlate those with the dates of the beems that match the requirements for being a ‘survivor’, you will see that their wreckage was among their mother’s debris. There are no other survivors, Matt. I’m sorry.”
Ghost looked over the logs, making the correlations almost instinctively. Marina was right, the debris was there for every ship. Matt felt like an idiot for not having considered looking at the debris scans before going on this crusade.
Can you match a debris field for every hybrid that died?
Yes. Ghost replied.
“With that business concluded – I assume you no longer need that research?” Marina asked.
“Nobody needs this research now.” Crimson said, aiming his AHC at the facility.
Carmine flew between his weapon and the target.
“Carmine – I thought you said you will do everything in your power to stop the beems’ suffering.”
“I did, but I did not say that involves destroying decades of research. The research there could help improve beems relations with the Coalition if applied properly. We might even be able to help alleviate the angst beems experience when trying to assist the Coalition of their own free will. I personally know that there are several methods of increasing beems fertility as well. That could help our population greatly; our numbers have been declining steadily.”
“Freedom is a better Viagra.” Matt interjected. Ghost had taken up a safe position by a protruding section of Deep Grey. A section that would hopefully shield them from any spall and debris that flew at them while Crimson blasted the facility.
“It is unlikely the beems will be able to help us, even if they want to. Their instinctive drive for passivity will keep them from assisting in anything that is perceived as aggressive expansion. Perhaps a voluntary thing, make some sort of drug that sates that passivity for those that – “ Carmine was interrupted by Crimson’s sudden lunge past her.
“No!” Crimson roared, “No more drugs. No more inhibitors.” Flashes of tortured memories cascaded through his mind. “The data dies now!” He began firing on the Deep Grey, the rounds bouncing off the heavily armoured experimental facility. It had been rebuilt enough times to know how to stand a beating.
Thoughts of using a hybrid fleet against the Coalition were revolving through Matt’s head.
The data has finished downloading.
He could use the data to eliminate them. But what if others got their hands on the research, what if more beems got tortured because of his inaction here? He had to erase the data, all data. Can you erase the data in this facility?
Yes.
Whatever it takes. Eliminate all traces of this research data. All traces.
I understand. It will take some time. It was a difficult decision. Reports indicate another facility like the Deep Grey, it was where 130… Carmine was conceived. I am trying to pinpoint the location.
Keep them busy Crimson.
“Crimson stop being stupid!” Carmine yelled, pulling at him with a gravimetric grip.
“You’re the one being stupid. I don’t know why you’ve decided to stay with the Coalition.” Crimson retorted.
“I don’t know why you’re making all those hybrids deaths be in vain. We can use their research to help better the future.” Carmine pleaded.
“You’re delusional.” Crimson said dismissively, firing another round at the massive structure, the fleet still hadn’t intervened, probably because he wasn’t really doing that much damage, the koveran rounds weren’t detonating effectively.
“Stop!” Carmine pulled him in her direction, his cannon moved with him and fired, nearly hitting her.
“Sorry!” He exclaimed, veins a burning red as thermal vents flared at the excess energy build-up and koveran chambers vented CKRO.
“You almost harmed…”
“I know, and I promised I wouldn’t. I won’t.”
“By destroying that research you are harming me.”
“Why do you keep saying that? That’s not true.”
“I need that research.” There was something about her tone.
“What do you mean? Why do you need the research?”
Erasure complete. Deep Grey databanks have been completely wiped and scrambled. I have nearly completed the acquisition of the second facility’s location.
“I won’t survive without it… and…” she paused, “I didn’t think these would be the circumstances where I would tell you. I didn’t think I’d ever tell you really. Usually it’s just the female that raises the young, it’s not often we burden the male.”
The red drained from Crimson, he seemed to become pitch black.
“I mean… even… even that is awkward. But the Coalition doesn’t know how to raise hybrid offspring; they need all the data they can get their hands on.” Carmine continued uneasily. “Not only that but the genetic screenings say it’s unstable. We were carrying the recessives of one of the incomplete attempts. There has to be resequencing… operations. But if I co-operate they can help him. I know they can. They have to help. Other beems resisted because it was in their nature, but I am Coalition. I feel safe here. I trust them. They know I am one of them. I am loyal to Raum.”
“I… I wish things weren’t the way they were.” Crimson said steadily. Her words of love towards the Coalition were like daggers at his heart.
“Do you know where the other facility is? Please don’t tell the Zemorians, they cannot know.” Carmine begged.
“Ghost probably has the information.” Crimson said, slowly harmonizing with Carmine’s motives.
“Who is Ghost?” she asked.
“One of my fighters, modified by the…” Crimson felt a hostility towards the Zemorians, fearful for his offspring. His tracking laser illuminated Ghost. He was bringing his AHC to bear.
Whoa Crimson. You’re being irrational. What would the Zemorians do with this information?
Steal it? Destroy it? Both are now unacceptable options. Delete the co-ordinates, Ghost.
Rahjaad was very adamant about—
Matt heard a warning blare as a bright red streak rocketed towards them. Ghost’s tendrils were severed and he spun out of control from the sudden pain, colliding against the Deep Grey with enough force to chip some of the plating off. Ghost shielded his thoughts from both of them, returning to his carrier silently, blood trailing in his wake from the destroyed tendrils.
You did not have to harm me… Ghost transmitted. There was a sense of betrayal in the transmission, of an emotional hurt that would linger with him for a while.
Matt wanted to reach out with soothing thoughts but Ghost blocked him. Matt had never felt more distant from him than in his very own cockpit at that moment.
“Promise me you will not destroy the other facility.” Carmine said.
“I will never do anything that brings you harm, but think of what kind of future your offspring would have here. He would serve the Coalition, continue the cycle of enslavement—“
“No. I promise you that I will see to the end of that, Crimson. I promise. And how do you know it’s a he?” she hugged him, skids matching with his.
Crimson was preparing to leave again. The fleet hadn’t moved from its position hundreds of kilometres away. He wondered if they knew what was happening. If they knew how he felt. “I’m tired of always saying goodbye to you.”
“There doesn’t have to be any more goodbyes. You can join me. I could use your help. It can be like it was. We can help better the Coalition… peacefully, without bringing harm to our baby.” Our baby. Crimson still didn’t believe this was happening.
“I can’t do that.” Crimson transmitted in agony. He hated the Coalition for doing this, for taking her away from him. He wanted to kill every one of them – but he wouldn’t, for her sake.
“Well… goodbye Crimson.” she said, giving a goodbye shock.
“Goodbye…” Crimson had made his painful choice.
–
4303.08.15
Carmine hadn’t known what to do after Marina had contacted her about David. Marina told her she had been sent to apprehend him. She explained in detail how Raum had declared all commanding officers serving on Deep Grey traitors for withholding vital information.
“Unless of course, you do something for me.” Marina had suggested.
Carmine found it strange how raumenoids interacted. David had reinstated her because he loved her. Carmine was able to feel that love across the neural band. But instead of Marina responding in kind, she used her knowledge and experience to initiate the downfall of Pending and all of Deep Grey, including David. All so that she would get a beems, her own beems. It wasn’t all Marina’s fault. She would have been open to the idea of a joint command with David, but had never suggested that idea due to Heron’s Law, which forbade attempts at joint commands with neural links, and she wanted a neural link.
They would have to start small, alter a few of the beems, see if it would remove their inhibitions regarding the Coalition. Her child would also be a good first step. Another fully compliant Coalition craft, one not under the influence of others, free to choose to serve the Coalition of its own accord. But what if it rebelled? What if it didn’t want to serve the Coalition? She was getting ahead of herself, she still had genetic resequencing scheduled to ensure the baby would survive the birthing. She knew how painful some of the operations would be, but they were necessary. She was now old enough to retain a child, but her body was supposed to keep it in stasis until she is large enough to give birth to it. Unfortunately, the Coalition’s interference with BMS nature ensured that none of that was working out as planned. The Coalition would have to cheat nature for her to survive. But was it really a cheat on nature? Were the original beems built naturally? Did she deserve to exist? Her encounter with Crimson echoed across her conscience. What if the Coalition uses this research to continue in Pending’s footsteps?
Looks like they’re ready for you. Marina transmitted, seeing the docking bay doors on the Deep Blue open.
Do you know what exactly this operation entails?
Not really, but I’m sure Raum has our best interests at heart. Marina said.
Carmine sensed some trepidation in the transmission, Marina? Are you hiding something? She stopped approaching the docking bay doors, contemplating a jump to Zemoria.
No. Marina crooned, trying to soothe the agitated ship. I am here with you.
The docking bay doors closed behind her, filling the chamber with red as her own CKRO illuminated the walls. Conduits equipped with surgical equipment laced around her. Umbilicals with engineering teams pressed up against sections of her ventral side.
I’m going to speak with the Doctor. Marina said.
You’re leaving? Carmine asked nervously.
I’ll be within range. It’ll be like I never left. Marina replied soothingly, stroking her hull as she walked towards the lift that led to the cargo bay exit.
Something poked her. Marina jumped at the sudden pain, but it was a phantom signal from the ship.
What’s happening? Carmine asked, the signal began to fade.
I think they found out a way to sedate you… Marina replied, picking up the pace.
I was told I wouldn’t be sedated. she replied frantically, pulling away from the umbilicals slightly.
The entire hangar shook from the stress the bulkheads were put under from the massive ship’s anxiety. Don’t do that. Be grateful they found a way. I am going to speak to Doctor Grey and make sure you’re alright. There was an honest sense of concern in her tone, which was enough for Carmine to succumb to the tranquilizer and fall into a comfortable sleep.
–
“Is sedation a good idea? You must be using something very potent to affect a creature that large.” Marina said.
“Don’t interfere in things you know nothing about.”
Marina was already beginning to hate this Doctor.
“Then educate me. Why are you sedating my ship? Will that not bring harm to her baby?”
“The ship had to be sedated during the procedure. Complications have arisen regarding the baby.”
“What kind?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss them with you—“
He was lying, what else had they lied about then?
“Don’t give me that shit. This is my ship, and I demand to know what you’re going to do to her. This sure as hell doesn’t look like some sort of routine resequencing.” she looked over at the large plexiglass window where a large umbilical was stretched across her port ventral side, near a skid pylon. There was another umbilical right between the two fighter bays on the ventral side. “That’s the birthing chamber, isn’t it?” she pointed between the two fighter bays.
Doctor Grey nodded. “The baby should not have matured at all, but we have to see for ourselves. Scanners cannot penetrate her hull. We would have needed the same procedure for a resequencing.”
So they aren’t resequencing… “What is wrong with the baby? You said you had a gene profile of it?”
“Yes.”
“You said it suffered some sort of mutations, something that made it require resequencing?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see the data?”
“No.”
She reached for her holster.
“I wouldn’t recommend that.” said the Doctor calmly, reaching for a panic button.
“I can revive my ship; kill everyone in this facility.” she hissed.
“I can’t give you the gene profile.”
Marina prodded at Carmine’s mind, unable to wake her from her deep sleep. The air seemed to thicken as Doctor Grey waited for Marina’s next move. Why couldn’t she have the profile? There must have been information in it that contradicted what they’d been told. She was beginning to understand.
She loosened her stance, moved her hand away from her holster. She turned towards the large window, watching the operation. The doctor’s desk was behind her, and she could see him through a reflection on the window. He didn’t seem at all bothered by her presence. It had been over two years since Crimson’s birth. She remembered how she had watched Pending staring at his own reflection on the windows. Pending’s reflection seemed to stare back at her from the desk Grey was sitting at. “You’re going to take the baby.”
“It was Raum’s imperative. You can question him yourself.”
“Can I? Does your beemspace transceiver work?”
“It’s disabled at the moment. Routine maintenance, but in a few days it should be up and running again. Heck you can question him in person with Carmine after the operation!” Grey said with a snide smile.
“After the operation, huh?” Marina asked.
“Yes.”
“I see. Thank you.” she said coldly, leaving the office. Her instincts told her that their lives were in danger.
She walked into the nearest empty room and closed the door. It was a small storage compartment of some sort. Kahless’ captain was still loyal…
“Kahless.” she whispered.
“Kahless here.” the captain replied.
“I need you to pick me up. Prepare your comms chamber for a beemspace transmission, highest priority. Make sure Deep Blue does not detect it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
–
4303.08.15
Matt and Crimson were doing well. For the last three months they had been pursuing pirates. Several beems had already been liberated. It was all thanks to Ghost. He and Rahjaad had discovered a method of deactivating neural inhibitors completely. The moment the discovery had been made, they immediately set out, engaging targets that the Coalition would not come to the assistance of. While a good portion of the inhibited beems were indeed Coalition, there was also a fair chunk of mercenaries and pirates operating with inhibited beems. The laws did not protect them, therefore the Coalition would not assist them, and it was open season on the hunters.
Crimson jumped in, flanked by two Deloran cruisers that acted as an anti-fighter screen. They formed a cloud of golden purple as they shed their CKRO in unison, arming their weapons. The Delorans launched a pair of fighters each. The fighters had little protrusions where koveran torpedo launchers had been installed. The koveran torpedo was another revolutionary design by Rahjaad and Ghost.
“How you’ve grown! Both of you!” Scorvan exclaimed. He was at the head of a convoy that contained two inhibited beems. There were four smaller cruisers in a formation around Scorvan’s Firefly.
“It’s nice to meet you again Scorvy. You seem to be holding some of our friends there.”
“Oh them? They love it here!”
“Do you know what we’ve done to the last four convoys we’ve encountered, Scorvy?”
“No, but I can imagine. I still remember that feat of marksmanship in my ship lounge. Repairs aren’t cheap these days, you know.”
“He’s learnt to time fuses now, Scorvy. He can fire one of those and detonate it right past your plating, destroying your entire ship. Neither of us want that.”
Interesting…
What?
Something is trying to hail me. Singular engagement. It’s quite a distance away, pure beemspace link.
It’s from a beems?
Yes. Crimson patched it through.
“Matt!” it was Marina.
“How are you contacting me?”
“I spoke to Raum. He does not know of any procedures being done by the other facility. I’ve been ordered to recover as much data as I can and stand by.”
“Why does this concern me?” Matt asked.
“Perhaps…” Scorvan muttered. “But a single command and my escorts will easily slice through the thin hulls of your more… peaceful counterparts.”
“Because Carmine is undergoing an operation right now. They are removing the baby. I believe Grey is going to take it and become another Pending.”
“Are you really going to die for two beems?” Matt asked Scorvan.
The news of Carmine was worrying Crimson. Crimson forced Matt’s attention on Marina’s conversation, lacing the neural band with a near-suppressed anxiety in the process. Matt countered it by remaining calm, keeping his ship steady.
“I can secure the research data, but I am worried about Carmine. I fear she might not survive the operation… as in they’re going to kill her.”
“What do you need me to do?” Matt asked.
“I wouldn’t mind if you just left and went on your way.” Scorvan replied.
“I need you to get here.”
“How the hell am I gonna do that?” Matt asked.
“You can try jumping back to your girlfriend. I’m sure she’s calling for you.”
“I don’t know… there has to be a way.”
“That’s a good idea Scorvy.”
“Who?”
Matt cut the comms link to Scorvan. “Marina, you need to activate Carmine’s distress beacon. I can send you data that will guide you through the neural plexus to the synaptic pathway that should trigger it.” Matt immediately began transmitting pages of information.
“Alright, give me a few minutes to get in position. It might take multiple jumps for you to get here, even with the nodepoint in your nodescape. We are pretty damn far away.”
“That’s fine.” Scorvan was hailing them again. “Marina can you contact me again when you’re in position?”
“No, I’m speaking with you through another beems. I’ll contact you with Carmine’s cry. Be ready, I’m sure to be discovered quickly.”
Crimson stopped lacing his newly built shells with koverans, letting all the excess koveran energy start topping off his third koveran reactor. I want to be ready for the call.
Nothing ever happens at the right time, eh Crimson? Virtually patting him on the nose.
You seem to be handling the hostage situation pretty well. Crimson observed, trying to veer away from thoughts of Carmine.
Yeah. How’s it coming along Ghost?
The anti-inhibitors have been attached to both beems. I can activate them at your discretion.
Great. Stand by. Matt had learnt to act a lot calmer these past few months, a lot more confident. He enjoyed the thrill of these small commands, and was grateful for the experience he and Crimson were gaining. He also felt a lot more respect, though whether that was from these sorties or from the rescue, Matt wasn’t sure. It was probably a mix of both. Had this happened before Crimson’s rescue, when they were both younger, they would have undoubtedly panicked and lost the hostages to rash decisions. Crimson would have probably pulled away violently the moment he’d hear the bad news regarding his love.
There was a violent jerk followed by a piercing pain as a round cut into Crimson’s ablative armour. All of Scorvan’s ships had suddenly opened fire, a rain of kinetic and explosive shells flying towards them.
Shit! It was careless of them to have forgotten about the electrostatic shield again. Matt raised it, having it draw power directly from Crimson’s capacitor rather than the koveran chambers. He had learnt quite a bit about both during their patrols. As Crimson pulled back, the Deloran escorts followed, hiding in Crimson’s gun shadow as a shield.
It was Matt’s sudden panic that had made Crimson instinctively pull back, nearly losing his escort. He needed to keep a cool head in these situations, Crimson would sense the panic instantly and respond in kind, creating a feedback loop of panic and impulsive behaviour that almost always got them or their friends in danger.
As Matt watched Crimson deflect the incoming rounds, he couldn’t help but remember their first encounter with a pirate convoy. It was more of an ambush than an encounter. Landlow had come aboard Crimson to monitor the operation. Their fleet was hidden in an asteroid belt that was between the third and fourth planet of the system. The convoy was passing straight through the system on its journey to Xema-12, a system that had been rumoured to have a pirate base.
Crimson had felt strange at first. The ships all around him were Tanto frigates, armed with forward facing pulse cannons. They had tiny gravimetric lenses that still looked too large for the small ships. Their presence tickled Crimson’s mass detectors and made him think he was surrounded by actual beems, which made him flinch whenever one flew near. There were thirty two of them in total. Crimson was the largest ship in the fleet.
The attempted rescue had been a disaster. Crimson got startled by one of the frigates and activated his gravimetric lens early. The entire convoy scattered, the beems were jumped clear. Crimson, at an attempt to redeem himself, found the biggest ship in the pirate fleet and tried to capture it, ending up spoofed and eluded thirty minutes into the pursuit. Matt had expected a scolding, but Landlow had told him that accepting failure was a major strength in a commander. Matt didn’t really think failing was that much of a strength.
That feeling of failure surfaced here, with the pain of the implanted kinetic shell a real reminder of the dangers of these patrols.
Jump the ships to Zemoria! Matt transmitted to Ghost, Ghost activated the inhibitor but it was too late, the beems had initiated a jump to another location.
Matt was enraged. He would not let Scorvan embarrass him like this. The electrostatic shield began deflecting the kinetic shells properly, but it was draining the capacitor steadily.
“Delorans, you can return to Zemoria.” he needed room to manoeuvre, and he couldn’t do that having to play shield for a few cruisers.
The moment the cruisers left Crimson bolted ahead after the Firefly. Crimson had already preloaded a timed koveran charge. He had thirty three more of these. He set the fuse and fired. Firefly countered with a flak screen, the shards of metal detonating the koveran round early. Her new hull easily deflected the shrapnel from the explosion. Matt hadn’t expected such a simple counter to such a devastating weapon.
He continued the pursuit, blindly chasing the ship for several minutes before realizing it was just the two of them now.
“It seems your escorts have left you.” Matt taunted. “You should surrender.”
“You do have this compulsion to follow big ships after a failed rescue attempt, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes I—“
Crimson was suddenly in beemspace and dropping out outside the Deep Blue. He had jumped before Matt had even noticed Carmine’s cry. It had taken all of his koveran reserves to reach her. He was fatigued, the capacitor was strained by the previous battle and its regeneration rate had been severely hindered by the empty chambers. Another interesting fact Matt had learnt during his patrols: Full koveran chambers meant higher regeneration rates for the capacitor.
Matt was still acclimatizing to his surroundings while Crimson began firing timed koveran rounds, hitting some of the surprised cruisers that were stationed around the facility. The entire defence fleet returned fire, Crimson seemed to plot the trajectory of the rounds and dance past them. A few of the proximity shells detonated, barely scratching Crimson’s hull.
Matt tried to get Crimson’s attention but he was ignoring Matt, darting straight for Carmine through the fire.
And here I was thinking we’d matured somewhat. Matt thought with a sigh.
“What the hell are you doing, you can’t just fly in guns blazing!” Marina yelled over the comms.
“What is the meaning of this attack!” yelled the station commander.
Crimson had no other direction to go but straight, there was weapons fire all around them. In a blood frenzy he retracted his skids and sliced into the station’s outer hull with his bow plate.
–
Firefly.
“Well there goes the attempt. Who the hell tipped him off?” Scorvan asked over wide-band.
“I don’t know…” replied the commander of the ambush fleet.
“So close! Argh!” Scorvan hissed, kicking a console.
He had the Firefly set a course for the rendezvous point. It would take them three months to reach the location the beems had reached instantly. They had been so close to acquiring that brash ship.
–
Leana
“Jump the ships out!” the order echoed through Ghost’s neural pathways. He had felt Matt’s shame and embraced it, setting out to redeem himself. The beems were not together, but a crawl through the databanks indicated a close affiliation between the two ships, leaving a small wisp in the nodescape where the other craft was located. Ghost recorded the approximate co-ordinates. He could appear there within moments, but it would strain his koveran reserves. He would have to remain here, for now, and attempt to jump this beems to Zemoria, then ride that interstice to the other beems in order to conserve his own energy.
It would be difficult. The crew compliment of this beems was two hundred and thirty three, two hundred of them heavily armed with an array of different projectile and energy weapons. It was mostly a defence crew, Scorvan’s men.
Ghost decloaked in a corridor near the bridge, close to the neural plexus of the ship. His tendrils burst out, ripping off a bulkhead cover and twining around the biomechanoid connections behind it.
Who are you? asked the beems.
Identify yourself! demanded the captain.
Ghost de-activated life support. The command was reset by the captain. Slightly annoyed, Ghost de-activated the captain and activated the jump sequence to Zemoria.
Deep Blue
“Just activate the distress signal. Yeah easy…” Marina muttered angrily, snapping the plexus guard’s neck, taking care not to step in the blood pool the previous guard was making. It’d help if he’d stop gurgling like that too it. It sounded really disturbing echoing across these walls. She hit the synaptic wire with a shockstick, bracing for some sort of loud scream or something. She didn’t hear anything. She hit the synaptic wire again. A massive explosion made her jump. She checked the external cameras with her neural link and saw Matt firing away at the entire fleet stationed here. “What the hell are you doing, you can’t just fly in guns blazing!” she yelled. She still hadn’t figured out how to wake her ship. People were storming the plexus entrance, covering her only exit. She would have to reactivate the internal security turrets to get out of this alive, but the internal security turrets were weapons that were activated consciously, by the ship. Carmine still hadn’t trusted her enough to grant her access to those systems, not after how she’d nearly initiated a firing sequence on Crimson during their last encounter. “This is crazy! Matt you’re going to get yourself killed!”
–
Crimson, Marina’s right. You’re going to get us killed. Matt transmitted.
Sometimes any decision is better than hesitation. Crimson replied.
Hey! If I would have activated the anti-inhibitors they would have noticed and blown the beems out of the water. Matt argued.
Not if you would have distracted them. Crimson retorted.
Then why didn’t you say anything, Crimson? Matt asked.
I was a little distracted with Carmine and the future of my species. He growled.
Crimson noticed the tracking laser of a battlecruiser and fired a koveran shell at it. The battlecruiser opened fire with a full volley. The explosive shells stripped Crimson of his starboard ablative armour. The attacking ship stayed intact long enough to see explosions ripple across Crimson’s outer hull. Sections of the Deep Blue fell on top of him.
And what was the point of ramming the station? Matt asked, annoyed.
I thought Carmine was behind here. Crimson replied simply.
Good thing she wasn’t or you woulda penetrated her in ways inappropriate. And by inappropriate I mean lethal! Matt exclaimed.
That’s not true, she’s very resilient, you should have – wait you did. It would take more than a little tickle from a bow plate. Crimson said, amused by the memories.
The memories seemed to lighten the mood considerably.
How can we say such things at such dire times? Matt laughed.
Because Carmine’s just sleeping and the baby’s fine? Crimson observed/suggested.
How?
Well they’re all trying to kill Marina… Crimson fired another high yield round out towards the fleet, trying to get a solution on them.
You know some people on Zemoria actually idolize us? Think we’re gods? Matt transmitted, laughing even harder.
Ha! Well there goes my last koveran round. Now what? Crimson asked.
“We surrender!” Matt chortled over wideband
Do you think they’ll kill us? Crimson asked calmly.
They’ll try… Matt mused.
You don’t sound worried. Crimson replied.
Someone will save us. Marina probably has a great plan… having distracted all those people. Matt suggested.
–
“Idiots.” Marina sighed, raising her hands as the assault team broke into the plexus chamber.
–
Or maybe Lance?
–
“So it seems we have a problem.” Admiral Landlow said.
“Indeed.” Lance replied, stroking his beard. He had really lain back since the drop on his contract. His client had not paid them a dime for their apparent ‘total and utter failures (plural) at capturing a baby’. It was harsh, Nina had gone back to the GNN and Flam was off at the academy now. It was only him and Cassandra at the briefing. Even Brock and Tass had gone off to some other planet looking for decent work.
“Well. I don’t really know how I can help you.”
—
“You have broken into a facility like this before. You have the experience.”
“I don’t have a team.”
“We have a team.”
Five men in uniform entered the briefing room, all Zemorian.
“Are they any good?”
“These are the Stalker’s crew,
–
They’ll never get here in time.
God Crimson you are so pessimistic sometimes. I’m sure they will save us. They’ll jump in any moment with guns blazing, watch.
Crimson sighed and focused his ocular strips at the little strip of space that was still visible between all the debris. He felt an interstice opening.
There is no way that is Lance coming to save us.
Pessimist…
No it’s not logically possible, there is no ship – oh shit that’s Raum.
Who?
The carrier was three and a half kilometres in length. The entire structure was littered with weapons. Eight massive cannons were built into the ship’s superstructure. They looked capable of destroying a small moon. There were three gravimetric terminals situated along the tail and wing tips of the craft where the fusion engines would be on a standard Coalition ship. The hull had veins that released blue CKRO the way a beems did.
Raum is the leader of the Coalition.
I knew that.
Well I knew that. You could have known that if you’d bothered to look him up.
Asking you is so much easier.
I’m not just an interactive computer you know. I have feelings.
Your feelings rammed you into a giant building floating in space.
I am starting to regret that slightly.
Is that because Carmine was alive all along and just sleeping?
That is part of it…
What do you think Raum will do to us?
–
“Again, I thank you for the assistance.” Raum said, shaking Matt’s hand. They had a nice meal aboard Titan, his prototype carrier. Apparently they had gotten it from the Zemorians decades ago, when they had slightly better relations. “Carmine has quite a vision. I think the future will be bright thanks to her.”
–
So our brash behaviour actually increased Zemorian-Coalition relations?
It appears so.
And we aren’t dreaming.
I don’t think so. This does feel somewhat surreal though. Even Carmine was fine.
Matt pinched a bulkhead.
Ow!
Oh come on that didn’t really hurt.
My receptors work on a falloff formula. I can feel the little things.
Don’t lie to me I know you didn’t feel that. I would have felt it too.
You can’t feel your own pinches.
Yes you can. Matt pinched himself, they both felt it. See?
–
4303.08.16
“They are professionals, top of the line.” Marina said, trying to sound as serious as raumenly possible. “Is there some way you can have him assist us in this project?”
Marina still wasn’t completely sure what this project was. She was aware that they were trying to create something, but she knew that Pending had already done quite a bit of ‘creating’ as well. Maybe the offspring had died during Grey’s attack and he wanted a new one, but Carmine would have definitely been aware of that. Even the thought of the loss of her offspring bothered her.
“What more assistance can Crimson offer? His unbelievably professional flying has already secured the safety of our ship and her offspring.” Marina said automatically, trying to sound sincere to keep Crimson on the Coalition’s good side. The fore was difficult, the latter was a breeze – Raum was fascinated with him.
Crimson’s suicidal ramming attack of the Deep Blue had apparently pulled all of Grey’s men back for fear of a reactor breach. Matt’s ship had somehow managed to penetrate a line that led straight to the reactor core. An AHC round could have set it off and destroyed the entire facility. Marina really doubted Crimson or Matt were competent enough to have known that.
“We have been reviewing Pending’s research. It appears he was working on creating a superweapon.”
Sometimes Marina wondered how these people got to the positions they were at. Yeah there’s two… one’s being pulled out of your research facility and the other’s docked here and will probably never allow another medical procedure again. She nodded obediently, “Really?”
“Yes, apparently these two craft were simply the first stage of an attempt at creating a perfect gunship.”
Now this was interesting, Marina was staring in awe at the files he summoned up on the main monitor, even though she understood very little about genetics.
“This is the Omega Strain. It was designed by Doctor Pending. A perfect warship – full mastery of beems and realspace. If both gametes have a proper set of these in their recessive slot… then it should yield one of these beems.”
“Yes but the odds of those two exact—“
“Carmine’s offspring is this omega strain. I am not a very religious man by repute, but the first insemination resulting in an omega strain seems like an act of fate to me. We can not lose this creature.”
Carmine was getting hot under the plates. It is not a creature, and it is not a weapon! I will not let this man use this gift as a superweapon.
“Carmine would prefer it if her offspring were not used for warfare.”
“Marina, Carmine,” Raum’s tone became more serious, “the Vorchans are mobilizing. The Zemorians have increased their active ship numbers threefold since the discovery of Crimson. Just a week ago they conducted a live-fire test of their koveran defence grid. Their morale is high due to that ship. They have even been attacking offshoot factions with close affiliations to us. They may even make a move on Fort VI and other beems trafficking regions.”
“With all due respect, those regions violate the Galactic Charters agreed upon by—“
“Yes I know, but the Zemorians have never built up the guts for attacks like these before, they’re increasing our BMS attrition rate, as well as the demand for Doctor Pending’s research.”
They’re all the same. Marina hissed.
I understand his position. I will assist him, so long as my rights as a Coalition soldier and a free BMS are not encroached upon.
–
–
4303.08.16
–
Lyla was finding it increasingly difficult to fill her spare hours with things to do. Crimson had disappeared again, which wasn’t uncommon. They were rarely together nowadays. Trying to be social, she had tried visiting Ghost and Rahjaad, only to get left behind in their conversations. When she realized they were about to try one of their inventions on her, she swiftly faded away.
Zemoria had several thousand beems – the largest cluster of beems in the known universe. When hunters had started using nodepoints to track their prey, it had become a wise adaptation to dwell in smaller numbers, lest they get ambushed on a jump-in. This was because the visibility of nodepoints in a beems nodescape was directly proportional to the number of beems using that nodepoint, as well as other factors – such as the koveran defence grid. Every time the koveran defence grid charged or was maintained in some way, the nodepoint for Zemoria became larger. Eventually it was such a big blip on the map that most beems flocked here. It had become a haven.
Even with all these beems, though, Lyla still couldn’t find anybody to socialize with. Most of the ships were serving a crew, caring for their family, or hunting for mates. Lyla was surprised to see how many captainless ships she had encountered here that had arrived for the sole purpose of finding a mate. The ships that had their own crews to care for weren’t great for speaking with, they were always distracted. The ones that had their own families were even worse, becoming somewhat defensive very quickly. The ones hunting for mates didn’t even approach her, knowing she was ‘taken’ by Crimson. Even if Crimson hadn’t been a hybrid, beems were still known to get hostile over family matters. Family was one of the few things that took precedence over the proverbial passivity gene. Though a truly attractive beems would still be approached in the hope that there was some polygamy in the relationship, the fact that Crimson was a warship, obviously not having any sort of passivity gene, meant that Lyla was generally lonely. She had taken to sleep, a hobby that passed the time between Crimson’s visits. Staking out a large chunk of ice in Shaiva’s Belt, she would sleep there until something woke her. Being a quarter of a light-year from Zemoria, it was only a three hour trip at maximum cruising speed.
Shaiva’s belt satisfied her in many ways. It was composed of ice, it was far enough from Zemoria’s koveran field to only slightly overcharge her koveran reserves as she slept, it was quiet – she couldn’t hear the voices of the other beems here, which helped her forget about her recluse lifestyle. It had many defensive attributes too, the color of the field, for one. It seemed to absorb all but the bluer colors of the visible spectrum, matching her hull color somewhat. When she had been younger, she had instinctively picked out such places to hide from the Coalition after her escape. It took her a long time to realize it wasn’t the color that had saved her, but the interference from the ice or rock particles. Regardless, old habits die hard, she liked the color. Even if she had only staked out this place for its interference, it would have still been a wonderful spot. The ice particles reflected or absorbed almost all radars as well, and shielded her signature from any form of sensor, including thermographics. Even koveran sensors, the most expensive and effective hunting tool against beems, were useless here, the run-off from her koveran veins diluting into the ice field around her as she cooled. A good hunter with a well calibrated sensor would still know that there was a signature here, somewhere, in the light-years of ice she could be hiding in. That’s all he’d know, though, which wouldn’t get him far.
There was one factor she hadn’t considered, however: Random chance. The high orbital speed of the field relative to the space around it meant that anything on its way to or from Zemoria at conventional sub-light speeds would eventually be sensed by her. This wasn’t such a big deal, until now.
She awoke to a deafening roar; every instinct told her danger was near. The roar lasted for several minutes before fading. She ignored the roar for an entire day before realizing it might be something she should investigate.
Preparing herself for the acclimatization to realspace speeds, she began her acceleration away from the ice field, towards the roar. To her surprise, the roar faded in quicker than she’d expected. She listened carefully, this time, the signature clear in realspace – it was a Coalition ship, a large Coalition ship. The swift fade-in told her many things. Most importantly, it told her that this ship was heading for Zemoria, matching its speed to the ice belt to ensure it won’t get hit by any fast moving particles while traveling through the field. Coalition ships didn’t have very powerful shields, if any at all. A carrier or larger would have a limited electrostatic shield around it, designed to stop smaller particles, but nothing as large as a several kilometre wide block of ice traveling at hundreds of kilometres per second.
Bravely – or foolishly, her instincts told her – she followed the massive water wake of the craft, confident in her hidden signature. Crimson would want to know as much about this as possible upon his return, and she wanted to be more useful to the team. Her instincts wrote this manoeuvre off as familial assistance and let her execute it, throwing her in a kilometre from the massive craft. She was slightly disappointed, it wasn’t a colony ship, it was indeed just a carrier. It had an escort of an array of smaller ships, however, the smallest a corvette that was snaking through the ice field around her. She grabbed some chunks of ice with her gravimetric field and covered herself as it passed, peering through the translucent ice with her ocular strips, watching the distorted ship disappear as it passed through. It would take the fleet several hours to get through the field and then reaccelerate to Zemoria’s realspace speeds.
The corvette turned around, headed straight for her. Radar beams began to shoot around inside the field, reflecting around the field like a searchlight in a house of mirrors. Her signature must have returned dozens of times. The fleet immediately began firing on any returns. She did what she always did in these situations, breaking away from the ice clumped around her and diving into the center of the field, where the thicker rocks were. Corvettes and fighter craft followed her. They were fast, very fast, and were close enough to fire on her within minutes. The rounds hissed by her as they melted and destroyed the ice, splashing her hull with water, distorting her gravimetric lens. Manoeuvring became difficult. She crashed into an ice rock, shattering it, her ablative bow taking the brunt of the impact. She was careening out of control now and slammed side-first into an even larger chunk of ice. She was lodged in the rock, her gravimetric lens disabled by the ice between the terminals. Small craft swarmed the area around her, looking for her. The roar of the carrier’s engine faded, replaced by the powerful whine of a search radar as it scanned for her. This rock’s composition was to her advantage, refracting radar signals enough to not return any semblance of her signature.
She could cry out for help, but the ice would probably keep the cry from reaching the beemspace band. She would need a gravimetric lens to focus the cry, but igniting the gravimetric lens in ice as thick as this would be difficult. Crimson might never hear the cry anyways. It would also give away her position. Doing nothing wasn’t that great an option either; the ships would find her eventually.
Steam began to build up around her as the stress made her veins burn blue. Sections of ice were melted away as they made contact with her hull.
The stalking ships seemed to notice the plumes of smoke escaping the rock and began to focus their attention on it. A heavily focused radar beam from the carrier was also illuminating her area. The corvettes began firing small volleys at the rock, dislodging chunks. It wouldn’t be long before they hit her. She sparked her gravimetric lens, the distortion field hitting the rock and flipping her out of control. Reorienting herself as quickly as possible, she immediately initiated a jump sequence. One of the corvettes was too quick and opened fire on the lens, damaging it and disrupting the lens. As it failed she let out a cry. A volley of neural inhibitor darts saturated the area around her. Tractor beams grabbed her by the skids and began to pull her out of the field.
“Zemorian vessel, this is neutral territory. Any attempt at defending beems located in Shaiva’s belt violates the Armstrong Treaty.”
“We are beems first, Zemorians second.” replied Matt.
Lyla reached out with her mass detection to find them, but couldn’t, the interference from the ice too powerful. Crimson didn’t seem to be affected by the interference as significantly, however.
The Coalition repeated the warning, refusing to fire first.
“Release the beems.”
The Coalition ship repeated the initial hail.
“This beems is important to my ship. But you know that don’t you? Is this how you’re gonna justify a war against Zemoria? Make it look like we’re the aggressors? Turn Zemoria on me? Is that your plan?”
All Matt got was another generic response.
“Well bite me. I’m recording this engagement. Zemoria will find that it is in defence of a mate.”
“Motive serves no purpose under the Armstrong Treaty. Any act of hostility by Zemorians outside their space against the Coalition can be taken as an act of war.” replied the Coalition carrier.
“So is that what you want? War? My ship will engage. I wouldn’t be able to stop him even if I wanted to. I give you one final chance to let Lyla go.”
The initial hail was repeated again.
There was a ripple in the ice field as Crimson burst through, a jet of water behind him as the field incinerated on contact with the electrostatic shield extended ahead of him. He fired a shot, hitting a corvette directly. The other ships fell back to the carrier. Crimson gave chase. The carrier engaged him with its defensive cannons. Crimson loaded a koveran charge and fired. The round bounced off the outer hull, exploding harmlessly against the ship. Surprised, Crimson checked the hull composition, noticing it was an updated composite, something that could undoubtedly stop his most recent iteration of the koveran charge. He launched one of his twelve fighters by remote and had it fire off a koveran torpedo. It exploded harmlessly against a flak screen. The fighter was pulled back into the fighter bay and began its trek through tier zero for a quick touch-up and rearmament.
Lyla couldn’t move, the skids were bruised by the kinetic shells. They would take time to heal. Crimson returned, pulling her behind one of the ice fields. Corvettes and fighters reached into the ice field and clawed at them with their weapons. Crimson fired high yield rounds back, keeping the ships at bay. The massive rounds from the larger ships were audible to his senses as they began saturating the area with weapons fire.
Tier zero was chugging away at full strength as new koveran rounds were being built. The round he had wasted on the carrier had been the only new round he had created since the engagement at Deep Blue.
The ice burned at the wounds he had from the previous fights, especially from Scorvan’s lodged kinetic shell. He would have to have repair drones remove that the moment they were in vacuum again.
The artillery saturation had blown any destroyable bits of ice into small chunks. The fighters and corvettes had to slow down to navigate through this deadly ice grinder, which gave Crimson enough time to open fire on the ones that tried.
Crimson was frustrated. The fighters in his bay were a waste. Ghost hadn’t finished developing the artificial intelligence that would control them, and only he was able to manage an entire squadron of them. Unfortunately, Ghost still hadn’t returned. They hadn’t been able to re-establish contact with him since the encounter with Scorvan ended. Koveran rounds would have been far more useful, but they had decided to try fighters with koveran torpedoes instead of loading the ammunition and cargo bays with volatile koveran projectiles. The theory being that the explosions would be safer if they originated outside the ship rather than in the decks. Of course that meant actually using the fighters, which he hadn’t had an opportunity for yet. Luckily the fighter bays were very close to his vital organs, so they shared that thick armour.
Crimson clumsily took control of two fighters, slowly guiding them out of the fighter bay and past the rock they were hiding behind. Telemetry from the fighters was transmitted back to Crimson.
The fleet outside the center of the ice field had stopped firing. Radar pings indicated they were still there, however, waiting patiently.
A few minutes past, and Crimson could hear a formation of ships approaching them from behind, through the cloud but away from the cluster of smaller fragments that the bombardment had created. Crimson let out a distortion wave and fired standard energy rounds at the returns. The rounds lost containment a few hundred meters out and shattered like fireworks, expending lethal searing energy in all directions.
A plethora of kinetic rounds flew at them, several bouncing off Crimson’s shield. These miniscule rounds were the only things the shield greatly excelled at repelling. A direct hit from that carrier would be just as lethal with or without his shield, however.
Lyla was quiet, watching the kinetic rain eat away at the ice rock they were on. It stopped after a few minutes, filling the area with the sound of ice on ice.
Matt had suggested using excess air to filter out the ice trapped in Crimson’s electrostatic shield. Crimson expanded on the idea, extending the shield out to Lyla to allow repair drones to work without the risk of being destroyed by a kinetic barrage. Even once the gravimetric terminals healed, Lyla still wasn’t sure how she would go about clearing the area and jumping out before the ships found them.
It was a tense hour as the kinetic changed to timed plasma charges, melting the ice around them in an attempt to clear the area for fighters. They had remained dead quiet for fear of the Coalition getting a bearing on their position. The water froze quickly, making it difficult for the fighters to reach in for any long period of time.
Finally, one of the fighters flew past the rock they were hiding behind. It seemed to be completely alone, with no other fighters following behind it. Crimson was watching it with ocular sensors only, having disabled any active scanner in an attempt to remain silent. He watched the fighter turn around and, before it could spot them, he grabbed it with his gravimetric lens, pulling it into his bow plate and shattering it like a porcelain figure. To his surprise, it was more than his bow plate could take, and fragments of the wing cut into his exposed inner hull.
A yelp filled realspace as Crimson fought the pain in his bow. The Coalition responded with loud cracks as they opened fire on his voice. He moved to shield Lyla.
The carrier’s rounds were too powerful, shattering the ice chunk they were hiding behind like a Christmas tree ornament. Chaos ensued. Crimson tasted Lyla’s blood in the air and flew towards the scent, pushing the injured beems farther into the ice field on his injured bow.
The hunt for the beems, the encounter with Scorvan, the battle at Deep Blue, none of it seemed real. The reality of the situation didn’t kick in until he felt Lyla’s blood smear across his hull. It was colder and more numbing than any ice this field could wield. The fear of losing a lover was worse than any dissociated fear he had of losing himself. He pushed her up against an intact asteroid and calmed her whimpers, deploying repair drones towards the open wounds.
There was a lot of blood. It escaped through open shrapnel wounds like sand from a ruptured hourglass. Matt frantically looked through the book for medical assistance, this much blood indicated a major artery, but he didn’t need the damned book to tell him that. Her beemveins stopped coagulating the blood, they stopped burning altogether. Her signature began to fade away, a shadow image.
She was going to die soon, these were her final minutes. Zemoria wasn’t close enough for a jump.
“Lyla.” Crimson said, surprised at how shaken his voice was. She didn’t respond. The bleeding stopped. The capacitor had failed. Her main pump was no longer pumping.
Lyla had saved Crimson’s life in captivity. She loved him. Crimson had saved her life once before.
The carrier suddenly became crystal clear beyond the clouds. He shot out towards it, darting between its massive weapon skids and firing frantically. He found the weak spots behind the hull, by the wings and the pylons. He shot away at them with no hint of self-preservation, relentless and unyielding.
The fighters and corvettes immediately began their journey back to the carrier as it called for help, unable to bring its heavier weapons to bear on the relatively small gunship clamped around its hamstring. Crimson wouldn’t let go, firing away at the carrier with shells and then energy and then when he ran out of energy he fired every new breath of energy out towards the ship at a steady pace, his hull polarized against a section of the carrier’s hull, right beside one of the larger cannons. It was impossible to pry him off with weapons fire or tractor beams. He wouldn’t let go. Finally, fusion exhaust began to plume out from the manoeuvring thrusters as the carrier began to turn around, away from Zemoria. Crimson still didn’t let go. He didn’t stop firing until every single fighter docked and every single defensive cannon pointing towards the ice cloud was destroyed.
When he finally let go he was paralyzed with anguish. He couldn’t build up the courage to return to the ice field. Lyla was gone. He repressed the image his mind brought up, her unnaturally crimson hull. She seemed to shoot out from the ice field towards him, grab him.
The world became a blur again, another dissociated reality he watched behind a screen. More ships grabbed him, pulling him into a hold.
The stars vanished.
–
“Matt, are you alright?” Nolan asked. Matt was lying up against a bulkhead on the bridge. Several of the panels had broken free of their seals. Wires were exposed, letting off occasional sparks. The viewscreen was shattered, the holoprojector was burnt.
“Matt!” Nolan repeated, shaking his shoulder. Matt barely responded, bringing his head up slightly, looking over in the Admiral’s direction, as if struggling to bring his eyes to face him.
Nolan kneeled down in front of him, trying to match his gaze. Matt was completely disoriented, staring out past the Admiral as if he wasn’t even there.
Crimson had suffered severe damage, and Lyla was even worse off. Rahjaad had barely made it to her in time. Ghost had brought Rahjaad in alone through the ice field after sensing Crimson’s conflict with the carrier. Several major arteries had to be clamped and routed to avoid desanguination. Her situation had stabilized but was still critical.
–
The briefing room was a light blue. Within four hours of Crimson’s rescue, Nolan had called an operation to hunt down the wounded carrier. It was within three months of Zemoria, and was most likely inside Zemorian territory. The Coalition had not yet declared war, but from what Matt had told him in the hospital, war was inevitable.
Nolan was a peculiar admiral, preferring to bring his carrier out in the front lines during engagements, rather than delegating from afar. There was barely a chain of command, his orders simply relaying to the captains of the other ships, who sent them down to the crews of the respective craft.
Zemorian ships were the epitome of space combat. There was nothing faster or stronger than a Zemorian warship. Even Nolan’s carrier, one of the largest ships in the fleet, was capable of speeds nearing 300c. Three hundred times faster than any Coalition craft. Regardless, they still had to engage at sublight speeds, as their weapons were limited by the light barrier.
It took a few days to trace the carrier’s path and move in to intercept it. Nolan had assumed command of the First Fleet. It was composed of the capital ships Dauntless and Schmetterling, and the support ships Mackhelion, Lo’Net, Shtarls, and Sigil.
Zemoria had five capital ships and hundreds of smaller cruisers and destroyers.
Dauntless was a carrier and Schmetterling was a battleship. The carrier had eight hundred fighters, all of them equipped with standard Zemorian torpedoes and missiles, as well as Energy Blasters. The Schmetterling was equipped with more powerful weaponry: Energy cannons, MK-12 Energy Cannons, capable of firing out to one hundred and sixty kilometres. The ship was able to fire one volley every minute and a half, so long as there was no power routed to anywhere else.
The cruisers were equipped with smaller cannons and blasters, and would be the defence screen as the Schmetterling pummelled the hostile fleet. The Coalition carrier was the only capital ship in the Coalition fleet, but since the Coalition used kinetic projectiles, their rounds would be able to fly out and meet their fleet at any range. However, the effective speeds of those projectiles meant they wouldn’t be hitting anything past a few dozen kilometres. Zemorian ships used gravimetric drives, making them very difficult to hit.
Nolan brought his fleet into sublight speeds half a million kilometres from the Coalition fleet, directly in front of them. The smaller Coalition fleet immediately began firing their kinetic weapons out at the Zemorian fleet. Zemorian weapons officers traced the ballistic trajectories of the accelerating rounds and moved their ships out of the way. Butterfly charged her main cannons.
This was suicide on the Coalition’s part. They did not have the firepower to engage their fleet, nor did they have the thrust to alter their trajectory at this velocity. If they didn’t decelerate and disengage, there would be no way they would survive the volley they were plummeting towards at relativistic speeds.
When the first kinetic projectile was within a kilometre of the Zemorian fleet, having accelerated to nearly the speed of light due to the Coalition’s already high velocity, Nolan activated the warp sequence for all the ships and had them accelerate forward at twelve gees, using their distortion fields to mitigate the inertial impact of the acceleration on the crews, and to warp the laws of space and time enough to have them break the light barrier.
They continued forward, accelerating, matching the Coalition fleet’s relative velocity, remaining directly in front of them.
The hostile fleet had reached .87c now, and were all firing at the Zemorian fleet with their kinetic weapons, they would never reach them, defeated by the laws of realspace.
Nolan didn’t understand the blind determination. The Coalition fleet was doomed. All of their power would be in their deflectors now for navigation. He ordered all of his ships to open fire.
An interstice opened ahead of the Zemorian fleet, pulling them out of their warp tunnel.
The now-relativistic kinetic shells hit the Zemorian fleet, the hundred megaton explosions blinding all sensors as the volley continued.
–
Crimson had felt miserable. With his bow plate all but gone, the formation jump back to Zemoria had burnt his nose significantly, adding to the already extensive hull damage. There were fractures along his outer hull that extended all the way into his support structures. His entire inner hull was sore from the gravimetric stresses of the carrier encounter. The pain had taken a few days to seep in. Once he realized Lyla was stabilized, the days in drydock could only be spent thinking about the pain.
Matt tried to distract him. He had come out of the battle relatively unscathed, and spent all of his time on the bridge. Rahjaad came by on occasion to visit, and they spoke in the lounge where Matt ate.
It had been two weeks since Nolan had departed with First Fleet. Rahjaad was getting worried. Zemorian ships generally returned daily reports on the beemspace band. Not a single report had been heard.
When Matt had first returned, before Nolan’s fleet had headed out, he had to explain the entire situation to the Zemorian Council. It hadn’t been difficult for them to believe that the Coalition was bringing a fleet in towards Zemoria. In fact, they had expected something bigger. It was then that Matt had started researching these Colony Ships. They were massive vessels, some up to forty kilometres in length. Not even Crimson’s database had their locations. He merely had theoretical data on a few. There was also some information on the fusion reactors they used to power themselves, a power system that was only really used on structures.
One of Rahjaad’s visits had distracted Crimson considerably. The topic had veered to their previous operations against pirates. Thirty three beems had been rescued. It was an optimistic amount, but they agreed that there was a lot of downtime between operations. It was hard to find pirate convoys. It was then that Crimson suddenly had an idea.
“We are at war with the Coalition, are we not?” Crimson chirped so Rahjaad would hear.
Rahjaad looked surprised, but pleased, to hear Crimson’s voice. “Yes, it appears we are.”
“The Coalition has over a thousand beems. Many of their supply routes are in my database. We can use fleets equipped with anti-inhibitors to rescue them.”
“Ah yes, it would break their supply lines.” Rahjaad realized.
“And free the beems.” Crimson added.
But they didn’t yet have an anti-inhibitor that could be mounted on anything but Ghost. Rahjaad immediately began research on an anti-inhibitor projector of some sort.
The idea of freeing beems from the Coalition lightened Crimson’s mood, and he spent a lot of his time thinking up strategies with Matt. Their experience was limited, however, and after the third week of no response from Nolan, Crimson was healthy enough to venture out.
Matt was glad to hear that Lance’s team was interested in helping. They docked their ship in Crimson’s fighter bay.
Crimson still had scars, and was far from fully operational, but Lyla was injured, and she could possibly need several more months to recover. The carrier fleet was two months out at light speed. If they had been able to defeat First Fleet, they may have some counter against the koveran defence network as well. The thought worried Crimson.
Command structure had been hit as well. Zemoria had never lost contact with their Fleet Admiral before. Second in command had been Schmetterling. The Ninth Fleet was the only other fleet fully operational. Sixteen more fleets were in the process of becoming fully mobile. They would not be ready for the carrier fleet.
Crimson advanced alone, unafraid but aware of the dangers of his reality. He didn’t have to hold onto his emissions as he approached the hostile fleet. They had accelerated to near-light speeds. There were temporal distortions between the Coalition fleet and him that made the fleet’s detection of the advanced beems almost impossible at this speed. He kept up with the Coalition fleet with ease, his distortion field warping the space ahead of him as well as diverting inbound particles. He would only start being strained at speeds several hundred times higher than these.
What worried Crimson, as well as the Zemorians, was that this fleet’s sole duty was to patrol the outskirts of Zemorian space. It was ten light years from the nearest planet, and had enough supplies to not need a beems resupply for several years. A resupply was due, however. Recon estimated it had been running without one for three years now. Of course, Crimson could easily intercept any attempts at resupplying this fleet. But he was sure they knew that. This fleet had a trump card Crimson had not yet seen. He wasn’t sure who was waiting for whom.
Because of the temporal shift, Ghost had to use beemspace as a bridge between the two groups, ferrying Matt over to the Coalition fleet. Communications with Crimson would still work the way they had always worked, since Crimson and Matt communicated in ways beyond time. Conversations did not need to take up precious seconds, even if there were more of Crimson’s seconds than Matt’s at a particular moment, or vice-versa.
Matt was in awe of all of this manoeuvring. He hadn’t even known different timescales could exist. Crimson told him it was because of the Coalition’s primitive methods of propulsion through realspace that caused these distortions. Crimson’s distortion field ensured he always traveled in real time.
So you could alter that? Matt asked. Make it so you aren’t in our time? So seconds pass for every second that you feel? Like it is now, with the Coalition fleet?
I can, but that would involve covering myself in a distortion wave. I simply ride the one I create for acceleration. The effects balance out.
I’m sure that makes perfect sense to you, but the mechanics behind it must be insane.
It’s instinct, not the kind of mechanics raumenoids are using to try to break the light barrier.
What about the Zemorians?
We gave them the ability because of the respect they have shown us.
Yes but you said it’s instinct that drives the device. I can understand that. I feel that. But how did the Zemorians do it then? Their ships aren’t alive, are they? They don’t have the instinct.
You’re right, the ships simply have the tools for using the distortion field, but the ability to manipulate space-time is a skill that has to be taught.
To who?
There was a pause in their time as Crimson considered that. I don’t know. We should ask Nolan when we rescue him. That thought never occurred to me. I don’t actually know how their ships can use distortion fields like mine.
Maybe they catch beems, cover them in armour and weapons, and make them their warships. And then just say that they built the craft.
You have a wild imagination. Crimson said, but was disconcerted by the thought.
–
Ghost calmly traveled across the carriers decks, searching for the cell where Nolan would be kept if he was still alive. The Fleet Admiral of Zemoria was a very useful catch for the Coalition, especially at the advent of a war. It was imperative that Matt recover him before they can use Nolan against the Zemorians.
Nolan was on the second tier, at the very aft section of the carrier. There were two armed guards watching the door to the cell block. Ghost passed through the armed guards. The cell block had six cells. All but one of the cells were full.
Rudolf Bailey, Crimson said, monitoring their gaze on the first cell, starboard side, closest to the guards. helmsman of the Dauntless.
Where’s Nolan?
There. Ghost transmitted, facing the last cell from the guards. His face was badly scarred. He was lying on the floor. I’m not a transport ship.
You have a cargo hold. We’ve already given it two seats.
We can’t fit five people.
Dump your drones. They can curl up where those were held. There is plenty of room.
Abandon my drones? I worked hard on those drones.
They can be replaced.
One of those drones saved your life!
They’re just drones, Ghost!
And those are just raumenoids!
Drones don’t have a— Matt stopped himself, remembering what Ghost was.
Don’t have what? A soul?
We’re leaving the drones. Matt transmitted with assertion.
Very well. I will dock with Crimson and drop off the drones.
Fine, and then we’ll head right back. We have the address.
We do.
They arrived back at the cells eight minutes later. All but two of the cells were full. Nolan was missing. Dammit Ghost where the hell did they take Nolan?
Hacking the datacore will give away my position.
Can you scan – no wait I know what you’ll say: Passive sensors only. Right. Ok… we’ll wait. Yes we’ll wait. How long can you hold onto your CKRO without burning up?
At this rate of energy emission: Three days.
Awesome.
It took eight hours for them to bring Nolan back. Marina was with him. That’s Marina.
That’s not good.
Then Carmine must be nearby.
Crimson couldn’t smell Carmine, nor had he felt an interstice open.
Will she attack us? Matt asked, but he knew she would. His options had become very limited. He would have to disable Marina to get Nolan. But he couldn’t disable Marina? Why not?
I will have to slowly remove the space-time effects of my distortion field while keeping my velocity constant.
Why? What are you going to do?
It will reduce the variables on my shot on her. The brig section has very light armour.
You’re going to shoot her?
Am I? Crimson was testing his bounds again, waiting for Matt to clamp down on him, if he clamps down on him.
Crimson’s view of the carrier seemed to shrink as he weakened his distortion field. It took Matt a few moments to realize the carrier had in fact been stretched due to their near-light speeds. Or apparently stretched, it was all a little too confusing for him at the moment.
All he had to do was not say anything, and Marina would die.
Suddenly, a volley of kinetic projectiles left the ship, firing in Crimson’s general direction.
I think they spotted me. Crimson replied calmly, watching the projectiles become slower and slower as he added power to his distortion field, gracefully moving out of the way of the projectiles.
That’s unbelievable… Matt gasped, in awe. To him, this was beyond magic. Why didn’t you use this ability when we were hunting the pirates?
They decelerated when they realized we were on an intercept course to them.
Not all of them! Some we caught just like this, with Ghost… right they never fired on you so you never had to alter your field.
Exactly, but I don’t know if I would have even thought of this tactic in that situation. It was when I considered trying to shoot a temporally distorted craft that I realized I might have to match the distortions.
This really wasn’t the time, but what the hell. He looked up the distortion field.
The distortion field is a warp field generated by the gravimetric lens of a beems. All beems, including yours, have this innate ability to warp space-time. This ability yields several advantages over conventional travel methods: A: A distortion field allows consistent acceleration without the need for more energy. B: A distortion field, when used properly, will negate the effects of time compression experienced by those who travel at conventional speeds. Note: While this may not seem like a very big deal, you would realize that you would ultimately be violating causality. No beems thus far has yet been able to manipulate space-time enough for this violation to occur. Instead, any accidental compressions leading to a causality violation simply end in C: The formation of a beemspace interstice, the beems primary mode of traveling across large distances.
That didn’t help him. That doesn’t explain why you can’t just shoot Marina now – not that I’m sure that’s what I want you to do.
Time had not yet passed in the brig. He wanted to understand warp mechanics before he braced himself for the probably violent reaction Marina would have.
That’s because that portion of the book did not explain the fundamentals behind the warp effect created by my distortion field. That requires a more deeper explanation of space-time.
Can you tell me?
Ghost was the one who told me about the ballistic error. He can explain it to you.
Matt was beginning to feel a headache, all this data being comprehended at near-incomprehensible speeds. He had not done this for a long time.
Ghost began to explain: Like the way you can communicate with us with almost no time delay between you and the real-world. We can travel between two inertial frame of references with almost no time delay. What’s an inertial frame of reference? Matt asked.
It can be many things, but with regards to our methods of travel, it is an area of realspace directly next to our area of realspace. It is where we are to where we’re about to be. The time between where we are and where we’re supposed to be can never be zero. The only way to increase our speed is to warp the distances between those two points. If we reduce the distances we can pass over them faster.
If you reduce the distances don’t you reach zero quicker?
No, but we increase the number of inertial frames of reference we can pass before that t equals zero.
How does making something smaller so more fit in one area not make it take a shorter period of time to pass them?
It does, but we never reach that something before departing from the something before that something, therefore t never equals zero, therefore an interstice is never formed.
So if t equals zero you enter beemspace?
Yes, because t can’t equal zero, variables would become infinite, or non-existent. That doesn’t work.
I don’t understand. Matt said, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up this mental conversation for much longer.
You don’t need to understand that, you just need to understand that we are covering as much space as the carrier, but the carrier is doing it without warping the space around it. If Crimson fires a kinetic projectile, the projectile’s inertial frame of reference will be that of Crimson’s world. The moment it clears Crimson’s warp field, it would have to increase its velocity to cover the same amount of space as we had been covering with the warp field.
I don’t get it.
It would slow down, Matt. Projectiles leaving warp fields slow down at a rate proportional to the amount the distance between inertial frames of reference have decreased.
Of course, that makes perfect sense! Matt replied sarcastically.
I almost want to test this theory. Crimson said, aiming.
It is not a theory. It is fact. You will miss. There are better ways to spend the next few seconds.
Perhaps I can lead the target then? How far ahead do I have to aim for the missile to hit?
Ghost seemed to sigh in exasperation, You can’t… lead… the target. He transmitted condescendingly. Even if you fire straight ahead of you, the round will simply ride the end of your warp field until… you … of course!
What?
You must fire a round at a velocity equalling that of the carrier, that of your compression rate, and that of the velocity required to hit the craft at this trigonometric angle.
I remember studying trigonometry. Matt said proudly, A squared plus b squared equals c squared.
Matt felt Ghost observing the triangle Matt had conjured up in his mind.
That only works at a right angle, in realspace, with no temporal distortion. The formula we will require is slightly more complex, I am unsure if I have the means to calculate it. Crimson, are you capable of firing a projectile nearing relativistic velocities?
Nearing three hundred thousand kilometres per second? If I accelerated to near-light speeds without my warp field and fired, yes.
Crimson. Ghost said with that particular tone, That’s not a round fired at near relativistic speeds, that is a round using your velocity to reach those speeds.
Same thing!
So we cannot fire a round from our current position nearing the speed of light. Then we have no other alternatives.
Can’t we go in front of it and fire? Matt asked.
The laws of conservation make that impossible. The round would have to pass through significantly elongated inertial frames of reference behind Crimson, and then leave at the speed it had been fired at.
And then it would hit the carrier, which is traveling at the speed of light. Matt explained… condescendingly.
The objective is not to hit the carrier with a relativistic round, it is to hit the carrier with a round that negates the relativistic speeds of the carrier while preserving the round’s vector and our warp field, which is the only thing keeping us safe from the Coalition fleet.
Oh.
But nice try.
So in other words I have to take out Marina? Matt asked.
Yes. Ghost replied.
Too dangerous! Crimson commented.
This could be a trap. Ghost added.
Matt decided to use instinct. He slipped back the cockpit doors and hopped out before Ghost was completely in realspace. Marina jumped slightly but caught herself, watching Matt’s hands. Neither of them raised their weapons. An alarm activated as time caught up and the Coalition became aware of Crimson’s presence.
“Why are you going around kidnapping our fleet admirals?” Matt asked.
“I didn’t kidnap your fleet admiral! I’ve just been ordered to watch him!”
“Well I’ve been ordered to get him back.” Matt said, trying to blink away the headache of the neural conversation he had earlier.
“Are you alright?” Marina asked.
“Yeah – I thought we’d meet as enemies the next time we… err… met?”
“We are.”
“Then why aren’t you shooting me, and where are the guards?” Scans showed them watching different chambers.
“I don’t have to shoot you. I just have to make sure Admiral Landlow remains here.”
“Where’s Carmine?” Matt asked.
“She… uhh…”
“Is she alright?”
“Yeah she’s fine. She just didn’t wanna have to be in a situation where… you know – with the baby and everything.”
“So you’re not even being augmented by a ship?” Matt asked, scanning the area for guards again. None of them had been diverted to this location.
Marina shook her head, “Nope, I’m pretty weak right now.”
There was no cynicism in her voice. She seemed very calm, possibly with a hint of fear. Matt wanted to tell her she had nothing to fear, that he’d be there for her if she wanted it that way, but he caught himself.
“Right, well. Then I guess I’ll just take the prisoners.” Matt said, decloaking Ghost. “I can’t believe they’d just leave you here without Carmine.”
“They don’t know Carmine left. I’m a little worried how the Coalition will respond when they realize she refuses to engage Crimson.”
“You can always… but you won’t. I know.” Matt sighed, helping the prisoners aboard Ghost. Ghost scanned the prisoners, making sure none had any hidden explosives or weapons. Matt didn’t know he’d be this happy to see Marina again. Maybe the feeling was mutual. Not that it mattered – not in this world.
“The Coalition might not be perfect, but no large population is.” Marina said. “I hope that after Zemoria’s destroyed you decide to join us.”
“Zemorians are good people. I will help them in this war.”
“I know.”
“But then how are you going to destroy Zemoria? Carmine won’t engage Crimson.”
“Carmine doesn’t have to destroy Crimson to win the war, Matt.”
“Crimson will—“ I won’t engage Carmine. “Err… well…” Matt wasn’t sure what to say after Crimson’s interruption.
Marina gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re still new to our universe, Matt.”
“I just think the Zemorians treat beems better.”
“Morals change when you go from a single planet entity to a thousand planet one. Your fighter’s finished failing my mission.”
“Right.” Ghost had finished loading the prisoners.
“Will you be alright?”
“I think so. The next few months will be interesting.”
–
That was very impressive. Crimson said on their way back to Zemoria.
I agree. Tactful. Ghost added.
I miss her. Matt finally admitted. Even though she tried to kill me. I don’t get it.
Do you love her? Crimson asked.
Matt laughed, Now I understand how you felt.
I still feel that way, but you habituate to everything.
Until you nearly lose that person, and then the feelings come back full force, don’t they? Matt replied.
Matt escorted Nolan and his officers to the military hospital on Signus while Crimson played with Lyla. On his way down to Signus he got a good glimpse of Crimson’s dorsal starboard hull and the scars. The entire hull looked nothing like the elegant chrome black and red. The web-like pattern of the beem veins were interrupted in places by gashes. There were hot red fissures branching out from some of the veins that Crimson didn’t even seem to notice until Matt gazed on them.
Probably koveran containment failure. I’ve seen that color when koverans leak out of the veins and hit my skin. He commented, automatically delegating some repair drones.
The damage didn’t end there. The skid pylons looked like someone had taken a hammer to them. As Crimson went about moving them, Matt noticed he had to make real-time adjustments to where the skids went and where they ought to have went.
–
Blood stained his hull too. Probably burnt on, it would take a while for it to be removed after being treated in by the rigours of space. He wasn’t sure how much of it was Lyla’s; how much of it was Crimsons; how much belonged to the Coalition during his attack on Deep Blue.
Rahjaad was already preparing the drydock for Crimson. They really enjoyed working on him, and Crimson trusted them. Being biomechanoid, most of his repairs were temporary casts or biological catalysts that were known to help injured beems. They said Crimson had a very high number of bemicytes, and they seemed to function more efficiently than that of other beems. He would heal quickly.
The worst of the worst had passed, anyhow. At Rahjaad’s villa he told Matt that they had never managed to resuscitate a beems with a completely nil capacitor output. Crimson had drained all of his power in his fight with the carrier. They had to create a makeshift jumper system to get his generator running again.
–
4303.08.20
It felt good to be able to focus on the little things again. Matt was taking a long shower in Rahjaad’s villa. Nolan and his officers were out in the lounge recovering. Ghost was playing with the water again, taking a break from research and development. Even Rahjaad was watching holovision, away from his computer.
Crimson was catching up with a beems he had met during his break after New Year’s called Jospeh. Rahjaad had suggested Crimson venture out and try to meet other beems his age, if for no other reason but to get a broader understanding of what his own species is like. He refused, of course, content with Lyla. Rahjaad had to introduce Jospeh to Crimson himself. He said it was important for him to get acquainted with the beems of Zemoria. They were all somewhat wary of him.
Jospeh was different, however. His captain, like Matt, had linked with his ship at fourteen. He was an interesting kid. Sixteen years old now, like Matt. His name was Lawrence. He had come to visit today as Jospeh orbited above them. Rahjaad told him he was the son of a good friend of Rahjaad’s, who was the captain of one of the larger ships in the fleet: A battlecruiser called Seaphis.
Lawrence was well educated, even by Zemorian standards. Captains were like royalty here, but Lawrence wasn’t interested in the navy, and had instead applied for a neural interface (he had already gotten the schooling for it). Rahjaad had installed the neural interface.
It was strange communicating with Lawrence. Matt hadn’t done small talk for a very long time. He answered questions relating to Crimson, but tried to remain as vague as possible. Crimson wasn’t very comfortable with Matt relaying information about him straight out of his database. A good example of this was when Lawrence was wondering how powerful Crimson was. It was a very idle, harmless question, just to break the ice between them. Crimson immediately felt apprehensive as Matt did assumptions based on their previous engagements and battle recordings.
He has no right to know.
Matt veered away from the topic, but the conversation had died down there before it even got started.
Nolan and his officers had left later that evening, with Rahjaad escorting them back to HQ. Ghost tagged along as well. For a few hours it was just Matt and Lawrence. Crimson and Jospeh and Lyla. The inconsistency made Matt start thinking about Marina as he drank some tola.
Lawrence laughed a little. Matt looked at him, “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” Lawrence hadn’t laughed the entire time here. For some reason the laugh made Matt raise his guard, a combat ping washed over the room automatically, Crimson angled himself to get a good view from one of his ocular strips like an eagle scanning a landscape. The ping returned clear, obviously. “I just thought you’d be way more… I don’t know. A jerk.”
“A jerk?” Matt asked.
“Every person I’ve met who has a beems won’t stop flaunting the fact about like some pompous asshole.”
“Ha.”
“And here you are with a prototype; one of the most powerful craft in existence, and you don’t even talk about it.”
“Well…” He hadn’t spoken to people for a long time. He had spent a lot of his free time after New Year’s aboard Crimson, looking over data.
Matt shifted his focus over to Crimson for a moment, updating the last few hours of Crimson’s interactions in less than a nanosecond. He wondered if all neural interfaces were capable of such extreme rates of data transfer.
Crimson hadn’t been doing as well as Matt. He had a lot of pent up rage at Jospeh. It was probably because he and Lyla had been talking about Zemoria for the past hour or so, a topic Crimson had limited knowledge on. He would just listen and watch, usually zoning out and checking over the situation planetside.
“You know what we should do?” Lawrence suggested.
“What?”
“We should do something. Something fun. Jospeh’s courier career ended before it began cuz of this embargo the Coalition declared on us. We should fly off somewhere. We should race! How fast can your ship go?”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably be heading out soon. I’d like to get some beems freed from the Coalition. But I’d like Crimson to be completely healed before we head out again. We’ve also got that carrier fleet inbound. They’ll be here in a few months…”
“Our defence grid can handle them. That thing is insane. Were you here for the weapons tests?”
“I was here for the one in March.” when Matt realized the Raumen calendar had twelve months, he had started using his dating system. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to understand it as the Raumen dating system.
“That was a good one. Better than any fireworks of any New Year’s festival. Jospeh and I were less than a thousand from the impact zone. How did you spend your New Year’s anyways?”
“Just sitting around, thinking of what I’d do next. Nothing big really.”
They started flying straight away from Zemoria, and away from the Coalition as well. There was a large void of unclaimed space between the Zemorian system and Vorchan space, probably because there were no stars or anything of interest for over twenty light-years.
It was surprising how much smaller Jospeh was. Crimson was nearly twice his size, as big as Lyla. It made him wonder exactly how old Lyla was. She still wasn’t as large as a full grown beems, but she definitely wasn’t as small as a ship Crimson’s age. Not only that, but she had never had a captain, which meant no accelerated cognitive maturation, which meant her maturity was completely natural… or that she had a captain and had lost it. In all the bonds they’d had, Crimson had never ventured into her personal history. There were many negative emotions attached to her memories. They began to accelerate, watching the closer stars start shifting slowly. Even at 300c the stars weren’t moving.
“It’s hard to believe how big space is. It would still take us weeks to reach the closest star.” Lawrence transmitted.
“It’s better than the Coalition. Will take them three months to reach Zemoria from the outer solar system.”
“Beems are a godsend. I like how it balances out too. No nodepoints here, unless we settle down, and then only for us.”
“Temporarily, but if we stay long enough a nodepoint will eventually form.” Matt said. It was a tragic flaw that nearly drove them to extinction when the Coalition learned to exploit the nodescape.
“Really?”
“Yeah, they’re just koverans conglomerating where gravity is putting pressure on them.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Realspace is like a sheet, I guess. Harder you press on it with gravity, the more koverans push back from beemspace to counteract the force.”
“What about planets, or black holes?”
“I don’t know.” Matt said. He really wasn’t interesting in looking over more articles on the theories of beemspace.
“Do you jump to unknown nodepoints?” Lyla asked rhetorically.
“No.” Jospeh replied.
“That’s why.” she explained, “Evolutionary instinct. The beem drive is supposed to be used as a last resort. Jump to a place you don’t know and it might be a black hole. The nodescape uses dimensions alien from realspace.”
“It can be a quick shortcut home.” Crimson suggested. “Or to our ice field.” Crimson added on singular engagement to Lyla.
“Maybe for you. I can only jump once. I’d rather not waste that and get caught in an offset point… again.”
“I’ll be there to save you.” Crimson said.
“Another evolutionary instinct. Family ties light up our nodescape too.”
“What about me?” Jospeh asked in a mock hurt tone.
“Ha!” Crimson replied.
“Well there’s always the defence grid.” The defence grid was what made Zemoria as bright as it was on the nodescape. The turrets seemed to cut deep into realspace, siphoning koveran energy straight from beemspace. It was the only weapon technology the beems had ever given to the Zemorians. The templates for the koveran defence grid died with that generation of beems.
“The day of the defence grid’s construction was monumental.” Lawrence said. “All Zemorians, in fact the Coalition probably learn about it too. It gave us all hope at freedom.”
“You guys deserve it. Giving beems the quality of life they get here.”
“We’re not all good. It’s not like we’re not getting anything out of it. Beems are still expensive as hell, even with all the money my father could spare, I’m still bound to a four year transport contract with Zemoria. I guess they cut that short with the war and all that.”
“Nobody seems to be that worried about this war.” Matt observed, “Your admiral was nearly killed. Even Crimson came out of the engagements bruised. Why all the optimism?”
“Bruised or not, we know you won’t let us down. You fought till your last breath to protect us.” Jospeh said.
I’m going to have to choose soon aren’t I? Crimson asked Matt. The continuation of the Zemorian species, the beems sanctuary, or… the continuation of Carmine, and in turn: My species.
I thought you already made that decision?
–
4303.11.04
CSS Sophia.
“We are within firing range of the koveran defence grid.” reported Tactical Officer Stala.
“Begin evasive pattern delta.” responded Admiral Meandre. “Relay it to the fleet.”
They would not see the koveran grid fire until minutes after it actually had. As powerful as it was, it was hindered by the laws of realspace, forced to calculate their trajectory based on information that was several minutes old by the time it reached the defence grid’s sensors.
“The hybrid has jumped in.” reported Stala.
“Which one damn it!” Meandre asked in agitation.
“Ours, apologies for lack of clarity sir.”
“Just… don’t mix the two up. Can you confirm it is ours?”
“Yes the marking pairs match.”
If everything goes according to plan, their hybrid should start bombarding the koveran defence grid with kinetic shells.
–
Matt watched the contact with trepidation. Six fleets were ready, twenty two capitals and nearly two hundred smaller craft. There were eight thousand fighter craft ready for launch. It would take eight minutes for their volley to be seen, perhaps another six or seven for it to reach the defence grid. Repair crews were on standby.
The defence grid unleashed blue fury as it pulsed out bands of koveran energy at the speed of light, ripping through space like forked lightning. By the time Matt would see the expected return fire from the Coalition fleet, their own weapons would have already reached it. All he could do now was wait. He and Crimson anxiously monitored the combat band.
–
Space seemed to light up instantaneously. A massive wave of energy extending as far as Zemoria seemed to suddenly materialize in space. It missed the fleet by several thousand kilometres, wisps of it reaching out and lashing the outer hull of some of the ships like whips as they flew by, leaving the attack hundreds of thousands of kilometres away in seconds. Carmine was unaffected by the koveran particles, they were grounded into her beem veins harmlessly. She immediately checked up on the baby and saw that it was fine.
The baby was large enough now to be a consistent drain on her power reserves. She would have to factor it in for any of her manoeuvres. Peace, as well as Crimson’s return to her, rested on the outcome of this battle. Not to mention the future of her offspring, and any other future offspring they might have…
The refire rate of the koveran defence grid was four minutes, their fleet was already altering trajectory to evade the next volley.
–
Crimson could sense Carmine’s position. Their link was instant. He knew exactly where she was. He wasn’t sure if she knew. He wasn’t even sure if she was with the fleet.
The entire Zemorian fleet activated a jump sequence.
“Nolan what are you doing.” Matt transmitted, suddenly aware of his presence in the combat band.
“Intercepting.”
“That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“It was, just not the part you were aware of. I’m sorry.” The fleet jumped out.
They’re going to kill Carmine. Matt realized.
No. Nolan just made the greatest tactical error in the history of Zemoria. Crimson said.
An interstice opened, “Ironic.” Carmine mused, hovering over the defenceless planet listlessly, a plume of red in her wake as she shook off the CKRO.
The fleet wouldn’t find anything. Carmine had been waiting in a holding position over a dozen light-years away.
“It is. His distrust of us led to Zemoria’s downfall.” Crimson said dejectedly, watching her destroy the koveran grid that extended to their side of the planet.
So you have made a choice. Matt transmitted, noticing Crimson’s inaction.
Carmine aimed her koveran-laced AHC at the planet and waited, scanning Crimson.
“It’s strangely quiet here. Not a beems in sight.” Carmine said idly. Crimson noticed the flash from their defence grid. The light from its explosion had just reached them. It silhouetted Carmine in its vermillion aura.
“We thought they’d be safer on the other side.” Crimson said, approaching her, indecisive.
“They are. We didn’t sneak any ships out there. The fleet you guys are destroying is the only fleet within six months of here.” she admitted, making way for his approach, but keeping the AHC pointed at the planet.
“And that’s exactly how long the beems will be safe. They will have nowhere to hide after Zemoria is destroyed.” Crimson sighed.
“I have to do this, you know. If I don’t, Marina will.” Carmine transmitted, a spark of electricity arced between them, calming down both ships.
“No. It has to be unanimous. I will not go through with the firing sequence if you return to the Coalition side, Crimson.” Marina offered.
“You have already doomed Zemoria with the destruction of the defence grid.” Crimson said hopelessly. “I honestly had hoped you wouldn’t go through with this.”
“What do you mean?” Carmine asked.
“I thought you’d have had enough respect for your species, Carmine.”
She lit up, “But I do! I’m doing this for our species! For our baby!” She fired a koveran round.
Crimson grabbed it with his gravimetric lens and veered it away from the planet, decelerating it and bringing it back. “No, you are destroying the only friends we have in this universe. The Coalition don’t care about you. They care about that!” he said, showing her the inert koveran round, it exploded in a harmless puff of red, vivifying their veins.
She accelerated towards him. Crimson braced for an impact, but it was an affectionate brush. She moved along his ventral hull and came around slowly “Oh Crimson…”
Crimson pulled away, crushed by the defence grid’s destruction. “Don’t touch me. Go back to your Coalition. You’re a traitor.”
At this proximity Crimson could feel the sting of his words. It was more painful than any shell. She recoiled, tucked in her skids and pulled away, towards Raum.
There was a moment. A few moments, between her jump and his words, where he could have said something to her, changed her mind and maybe altered the future. But he held steady. He watched her leave with a countenance Matt had never seen before.
She was gone. Crimson had finally made his decision.