The remainder of humanity might just join the Exodus and flee outside the galaxy, but how long would they be safe there? The Killers could certainly follow them, or even stretch their gravity beams over to Andromeda or M33 or one of the other galaxies. The human race might encounter allies in another galaxy, or merely discover other Killer outposts… he shook his head, grimly. There was no evidence that the Killers had anything, even an outpost, outside the Milky Way galaxy.
But there’s no evidence against it either, he reminded himself, and turned back to the massive hologram mounted in the centre of the room. It showed a monstrous structure orbiting a star, a complete enclosure that hid the star from view and allowed the Killers to drain every last erg of power. It seemed an oddly poor choice of power source for a race that could tap into black holes and presumably build quantum taps as well, but perhaps the Killers had built their station before all of the early supermassive stars had been destroyed, using their gravity fields to reconfigure the star to keep it alive. No one knew just how old the Killers really were, but in a universe that was billions of years old, they seemed to be the only constant. Nothing else had emerged to threaten their superiority until humanity had barely escaped destruction.
“This is a Dyson Sphere,” Brent explained, dryly. Everyone in the room would know what they were looking at. “It encloses a star and drains its power off into these, we believe” — the hologram zoomed in on massive structures built on the surface of the sphere, each one larger than Earth itself — “and the power is tuned into massive gravity fields, working through a network of small black holes. They then use those gravity fields to focus in on the other stations, synchronise with the smaller black holes that serve as part of the Killer network and perhaps even generate more power without tapping into the Core Hole. We have run a handful of very stealthy recon missions through the system and we can confirm that there is one hell of a lot of power being generated there. If they succeed in mastering the Core Hole, they will be able to accomplish their objective. I don’t have to remind you, gentlemen and ladies, that if they do that, it is the end.”
There was a long pause, broken finally by someone at the back. “How did they build that big-ass Motherfucker anyway?”
Brent smiled, rather wanly. “We’re uncertain,” he admitted. “The Dyson Sphere is actually much larger than any concept humanity came up with; its surface is apparently at least ten AUs from the star, suggesting that the interior land surface is considerably greater than you might expect. There simply could not have been enough material in the system to build it, but the analysts believe that the Killers simply opened a few hundred wormholes and scooped up planets from the surrounding systems. The onrush of radiation from the Galactic Core will have left those worlds completely dead, so there would be no particular risk in using them as material. Alternatively, they might have simply pulled them from their home systems and brought them to their new home, although that would have taken years. They had the time.”
He looked up at the display as it zoomed out again. “There are at least seventy known Killer starships in the system and perhaps more inside the sphere,” he added. “The purpose of this mission is simple; take out those ships, break inside the sphere and launch a supernova bomb into the star inside. If we can get it to explode, the shockwave should melt the sphere’s exterior and take out the system; if it fails to melt the system, it should still be drained of power. We have amassed the greatest and most powerful human fleet in the history of mankind to meet this threat.”
Andrew looked around the room, feeling a lump in his throat. The Community Defence Force had assembled over a hundred thousand starships to fight their final battle. Even coordinating so many different attack wings, each of which might never have trained with its neighbour, would be a challenge. They had certainly never practiced working and fighting as a single force, yet they would be an overpowering force when they engaged the Killers. They might still have to henpeck the Killer starships to death, but they could do that. The other problem lay in the sphere itself. Who knew what kind of defences it possessed?
“We have added a new weapon to our arsenal,” Brent said. “We have produced and deployed a fleet of ramming ships, which will be deployed against the Killer starships and the sphere itself. We have not located any particular weak points on the sphere, but we believe that we can break through its material using implosion bolts — or by destabilising their black holes — and punch our way inside. Once inside, the priority remains to destroy their star and then escape. The rest of the mission will be handled elsewhere.”
Andrew hesitated, seeing that no one else intended to ask the obvious question, and raised his voice. “What happens if we fail to break open the sphere?”
“Then we’ll have to think of something else,” Brent said. There was a long pause. “Any other questions?”
No one spoke. “Return to your ships and prepare for the jump,” Brent said, finally. “Good luck to us all.”
Andrew smiled slightly as his mind was returned to the Lightning. He couldn’t fault Brent for refusing to remain behind when the entire Defence Force — apart from a handful of starships that couldn’t be spared — was sent into battle, even though it had the makings of a universe-class disaster. The fleet needed time to drill together and that had been refused, even though it was an obvious problem. There was just no time, he knew. If they failed to stop the Killers, they might as well kiss the Milky Way goodbye and join the Exodus.
“Good news, sir?” Gary asked. “Are we going in?”
Andrew looked down at the display showing the status of the other seventy-one ships in the attack wing. “Yes,” he said, slowly. He didn’t know half of his Captains as well as he should, not after the attack wing had been reconstituted three times since the war had suddenly exploded. “We’re going in.”
On the main display, the timer suddenly started to count down to zero.
“You’re taking every starship in the fleet,” Patti said, as Brent’s image appeared in her office. Tabitha Cunningham was already there, her image sipping a simulated martini. It was a picture of calm contemplation that Patti would have given anything to be able to duplicate herself. Had Tabitha ever made such decisions as part of her term as President? “The System Governments are screaming at me.”
“I know,” Brent said, grimly. ‘Screaming’ was an understatement. The Governments were threatening her with everything from legal lynching to secession from the Community and the Defence Force. “There’s no helping it, I’m afraid.”
He seemed remarkably unconcerned for someone who would be going up against the most powerful race in existence, wrapped only in a destroyer that would be blown apart with a single hit. Patti opened her mouth to fire a broadside and then decided against it. Brent had made up his mind and didn’t need the President trying to talk him out of it.
“I’ll try and keep them under control,” she said, finally. “But a hundred thousand starships…?”
“If we lose, if we fail in our attempt to hack into their system, we lose completely,” Brent said. “There’s no point in holding back any reserves, not now. If we can break through their defences and take out the station, we can rebuild the entire Defence Force if necessary. If not, we might as well quit the galaxy before the Killers shatter every rocky planet in existence and flee to M33.”