Basil muttered under his breath, but started to key in instructions to the starship’s computer core. It had amused Ron when he’d seen him for the first time; Basil was a starship Captain, with all that that implied, yet he couldn’t or wouldn’t control his starship directly. The starship AI was probably considerably smarter than its commanding officer. It could certainly handle the job of docking with the asteroid and assisting the Footsoldiers to move the children into safer hands. In fact…
His train of thought changed rapidly as the alarm sounded. Space was warping only a few thousand kilometres from their position. He knew what that meant even before the wormhole started to materialise in open space, revealing a very familiar starship design.
“They tracked us here,” Captain Basil said, sheer terror blanching his face. The Killer starship slid smoothly out of the wormhole, its mere presence sending gravity waves racing across the system. “God damn you; you led them here.”
“Quiet,” Ron said, although he was almost equally alarmed. There would be no fight against an equal opponent, only a slaughter. The Killers would probably swat the Family Farm without even noticing them. An AI — if they had AIs — would take the shot and blow the starship into atoms. “Power down the main sensors. I want us to be a rock in space.”
“No,” Captain Basil snapped. “Computer; power up the main drive and jump us out here on a random vector, now!”
“Unable to comply,” the AI said, its smoothly modulated voice somehow clashing with the growing panic of its commander. The AI’s personality overlays had been scaled back to the bare minimum. “The gravity distortion is preventing the formation of a stable Anderson Field.”
“Get us out of here,” Captain Basil repeated. “I want to be away from that thing!”
“Unable to comply,” the AI said. It showed no hint of awareness that they were about to die. “The alien starship is in a position to intercept us regardless of our exit trajectory.”
Ron reached out with one armoured hand and clutched Basil’s neck, lifting him up into the air with ease. “Power down the drive and float like a rock,” he ordered, hoping that the AI would pick up on his commands. The suit could probably hack into the AI, but that would take time, time they probably didn’t have. The Killer starship could hit them at any moment, even though it wasn’t firing or being fired upon. It was just… looming. Its daunting presence was dominating the entire system, mocking the human race by its very existence. “Do it, now!”
“Complying,” the AI said. The lights faded slightly as main power was taken offline. “Drive field disengaged; helm and other systems powered down. We are now on a ballistic course towards Patton Asteroid.”
Ron turned and stared out into space. The Killer starship was so large that he could see it even with the naked eye. It still wasn’t firing.
“Put me down,” Captain Basil protested. He was both pleading and cringing, desperate for reassurance and protection. Ron could offer neither. “What do we do now?”
“We wait,” Ron said. “There’s nothing else we can do.”
“All hands to battlestations,” the AI’s voice thundered. “All hands to battlestations! Condition Red; I repeat, Condition Red. This is not a drill. All hands to battlestations!”
“Belay that,” Admiral Brent Roeder snarled. Any human force could have been fought on even terms. The only way to take out the Killer starship would have been to blow up the star and accept mutual destruction. “Get the evacuation underway; I want everyone, but critical staff on the emergency starships and out of here before the shit hits the fan.”
He turned back to the main display and bared his teeth, studying the Killer starship dominating the Sparta System, the sight he had dreaded since he had assumed his position. The Defence Force was decentralised, but the loss of Sparta and the starships assigned to its defence — to say nothing of the cadre of trained personnel — would hurt, badly. The Killers, either by accident or design, had hit on one of the few vital systems in the Community.
“Evacuation underway,” Captain Waianae assured him. She was a dark-skinned young lady with rare promise as a tactical coordinator, although she hadn’t proven suited to shipboard life. She would never hold a field command, but Brent had come to depend on her and her fellows to assist him in coordinating the evacuation effort. There were thousands of starships, crammed with refugees out among the stars, all of which needed to be sent to safe harbour. Nowhere was safe these days. “Sir…”
Brent nodded. It would take nearly an hour to evacuate even one of the asteroids, an hour they probably wouldn’t have. The Killer starship wasn’t even out of range; if the live feed from the Lightning had been accurate, it could pick off his asteroids from where it was, without even coming closer to the Defence Force.
“The fleet’s requesting orders,” Lieutenant Windsor said. “They’re standing by to engage.”
Brent looked back at the Killer ship. “Order them to hold their fire,” he said, slowly. The Killer starship was just looking at them; somehow, he was sure that it was scanning the base, looking for… what? Only one thing came to mind, but there were no supernova bombs in the Sparta System. It was restricted space, but it was still too public… and, of course, human rules meant nothing to the Killers. “Can you tell if it’s scanning us?”
“Unknown,” the AI said, flatly. Its voice was cold and hard. “If the Killers are scanning us, they are not using any technology that we are capable of detecting. There are no emissions from the craft, as far as we can tell; it’s not even radiating the standard RF transmissions.”
“Repeat the command,” Brent said, staring at the Killer craft as if it were a personal enemy. “I want them to hold their firepower. Let them fire the first shot.”
The minutes ticked past slowly. Brent could feel trickles of sweat running down his back. The whole scene was inhumanly still. The Killer starship was just sitting there, watching them. It made no hostile move, but its baleful present loomed over the entire star system, holding the humans hypnotised by its sheer immensity. Brent was only vaguely aware of messages flooding in from elsewhere, starships offering to rally to the defence of Sparta, or even assisting in the evacuation program. The starship seemed to draw in all of his attention. It was impossible to look away.
“I’m picking up low-level power emissions from the enemy ship,” the AI said. There was a long pause. “I am unable to determine exactly what the Killers are trying to accomplish.”
“They’re trying to scare hell out of us,” Captain Waianae said, grimly. Her dark face was shining with sweat. Brent had a sudden mental image of how he must look flashing in front of his eyes and he almost smiled. “They’re succeeding.”
“Remain calm,” Brent said. The priority communications channel was lighting up, informing him that the President and the remainder of the War Council were watching the display, but he chose not to speak to them. What could he have said? “Let them make the first move?”
He felt his heartbeat racing frantically inside his chest, despite the best efforts of his augmentation. After the destroyed star… were the Killers trying to communicate?
“Analyse their emissions,” he ordered, slowly. “Are they capable of carrying communication signals?”
“Uncertain,” the AI reported. “They do not correspond with any known or theorised communications system.”