“I do not know,” Galyan admitted.
“Do you plan on freeing the professor or speaking with him?”
“Negative.”
“Will you head straight to Earth as I’ve ordered?”
“That is affirmative, Captain. I am under your command.”
“Just not if I attempt to put Ludendorff in stasis,” Maddox said.
“That is correct.”
Maddox eyed the holoimage, finally motioning Riker. The two of them walked away from Galyan.
“What do you make of that, sir?” Riker whispered.
“Dana guessed it. The professor did something underhanded while ridding the AI of the Swarm virus.” Maddox spoke louder. “Galyan, can you pinpoint the moment the professor instructed you to shift your star drive jump so we appeared where we first did in this system?”
“I do not understand the query,” Galyan said.
“How did we arrive by the magnetic storm when we did? It wasn’t a coincidence. Do you recall the professor making any adjustments to the flight path?”
“Negative.”
Maddox considered that. He whispered to Riker, “It appears Ludendorff can control Galyan in a way that’s beneath the AI’s perception.”
“What are we going to do about it, sir?”
Maddox considered the question. Once more, he raised his voice. “Galyan, will you keep Ludendorff and his people locked in their quarters for the remainder of the voyage?”
“Affirmative.”
Maddox leaned near Riker, whispering, “We’re going to get home to Earth as fast as possible to report on the victories in the Tannish and Markus Systems and also tell Intelligence about the ghostly vessel. Then, we’ll get ready for the next battle against the New Men.”
“What about the professor?” Riker whispered.
“He’s locked away from harm. I’ll let Star Watch decide his punishment.”
-6-
Over one hundred and fifty light years away from Maddox, Commander Kris Guderian of the Star Watch Frigate Osprey exited a Laumer-Point into the New Arabia System.
The bridge crew and the frigate’s computers were presently in the grip of Jump Lag.
The system had a G class star with five planets and millions of comets in the outer region. In the inner area were two Earthlike worlds in nearly identical orbits. The farther planet in relation to the star was named Al Salam, the closer world was Riyadh. They were the twin home worlds of the Wahhabi Caliphate.
Osprey was a Patrol vessel, part of the scouting arm of Star Watch. Normally, Patrol craft went into the Beyond, surveying new star systems. Her crew was composed of hardened explorers and scientists accustomed to spending years at a time away from port.
Commander Guderian had been with the Fifth Fleet under Admiral Fletcher. Almost nine months ago, she had first brought the admiral word of the approaching New Men. The attacking star cruisers had brought about the ill-fated Battle of Caria 323. Osprey had fled with the rest of the survivors into the void, heading for the Tannish System. Six months after the first battle, Guderian had witnessed the victory over the New Men with the ancient starship’s disruptor beam. After the second battle, Fletcher had given her the task of racing to Caliph Mohammad Saladin Bey the III in New Arabia. She was to inform the ruler of Star Watch’s victory over the enemy.
That meant Osprey and her crew hadn’t gotten to go home first, but headed as fast as they could to the heart of the Muslim star empire. That was one of the benefits of Patrol craft. They were fast.
As Kris recovered from Jump Lag, she raised her head at her station on the bridge. Kris doubled as her own communications and sensor officer so she began engaging the sensors and studied her comm-board as the effects of Jump Lag started wearing off.
Kris Guderian had short red hair and a splash of freckles across her nose. She had an Irish-German background and had to fend off more than her share of romantic invitations from the scientists aboard. The worst offender she had confined to quarters.
“That’s strange,” Kris said.
“What’s that, Commander?” her pilot asked
Lieutenant Artemis was a tall woman with shiny fingernails. She was currently the only other person on the bridge.
“No one in the system is hailing us,” Kris said.
“Oh,” Artemis said. “That is odd.”
The Wahhabis were known for having the strictest pre and post jump protocols of anyone in inhabited space. Why hadn’t someone hailed them? Guderian needed to find out.
Kris tapped her panel, scanning nearby space. A frozen Pluto-like planet orbited several hundred thousand kilometers away. The commander didn’t spy any signs of life there. The weirdest thing was that there should have been Wahhabi warships guarding the Laumer-Point. There was nothing here but empty space.
“Could the New Men have hit New Arabia?” Artemis asked.
“The indications we’ve seen during the journey don’t point to that,” Kris said. “Everything has been tense but peaceful among the Wahhabis. Every system was on full alert. You know how zealously each sheik-superior questioned us about the war in ‘C’ Quadrant.”
“Should I begin heading in-system?” Artemis asked.
“Yes.”
As the pilot went to work, the commander fixed her sensors on the nearby planet while looking up its stats on the database. The ice-rock was called Al Gaza and was supposed to have heavy-mount laser cannons and underground shelters.
A cold feeling squeezed Kris’s heart. Osprey’s sensors showed a hot, radioactive globe. That was a molten planet out there. But that didn’t make sense. Al Gaza was supposed to be a frozen iceoid.
Kris flicked on the frigate’s intercom. “This is the Commander speaking. We are on red alert. I repeat. We are on red alert.”
“I don’t see a thing anywhere, Commander,” Artemis said as she studied her flight screen.
Kris widened the sensor sweeps. “Let’s proceed cautiously,” she told Artemis. “Make it half cruising speed.”
The lonely Patrol vessel started in-system. Riyadh and Al Salam were both several billion kilometers away.
Osprey had a few weapons systems, but nothing to boast about. It relied on speed for ultimate protection, although they had a weak shield and paltry hull armor. The frigate’s strength lay in its sensors, in many ways better than a battleship’s.
Kris used those sensors. Her stomach tightened as she spotted several wrecks floating in the void five hundred million kilometers away.
The Wahhabi Caliphate had a strong political system. They also had good warships and hardy soldiers. Their Muslim beliefs strengthened their devotion to duty. Sometimes it made them inflexible, but that could also be a plus.
After fifteen minutes of silence, Artemis asked, “How does one of the busiest star systems in existence—”
Harsh static from Guderian’s board cut off the pilot. Kris tapped a panel, bringing an image to the forward screen.
“What is that?” Artemis asked.
A gigantic, lightening-lit spheroid of immense size—bigger than a planet—grew into existence on the screen.
“That’s in the inner system,” Kris said. “This is at high magnification.”
The spheroid sizzled with power, sending long bolts of purple energy into the void. The display increased with intensity.
“By the goddess,” Artemis said. “What is that?”
Kris spied a huge, teardrop-shaped vessel inside what the sensors showed was an ionic front magnetic storm. A few quick taps on her board gave the commander an idea of the vessel’s size. It had to be over fifty kilometers long, monstrous by starship standards. The commander didn’t know of any warship anywhere that was even one kilometer in length.